#he's just a silly little guy that loves murdering and causing chaos

[starryeyeddreamer21]

I think Alastor would ALWAYS have a problem with the people his friends are dating

I bet he often flaunted how close he was with Rosie to every single one of her husbands and Rosie thought it was hilarious. Those two are scheming or gossiping 24/7 which means when they talk they are standing very close and whispering so no one would hear what they say. Every single one of her husbands hated it and it was step one of their downfall EVERY SINGLE TIME

He's absolutely killed/helped kill Niffty and Mimzy's exes and men that wouldn't leave them alone in general (this is literally canon with Mimzy)

He constantly says Charlie is too good for Vaggie even when him and Vaggie become more civil but it's fine because he's joking... Mostly

And when him and Vox were still close??? Omg he was convinced Vox had the worst taste in men EVER and him ending up with Valentino honestly just proved his point

It takes a little bit of a turn with Husk and Angel because he's just equally unimpressed with both of them like he'll look at Angel and be like "Really? The drunk?" And then he'll turn to Husk like "Really? The whore?" And then decide that neither of them can do better in the most derogatory and secretly caring way possible

[screamingcryingandthrowinguprn]

Jealous (Wally Clark x Reader)

A little Wally Clark blurb, because I love him.

Warnings: A little angst, but fluffy comfort! Tried to keep it gender-neutral, and did not use (Y/N)!

Hope y'all like it, and other people will start writing for Wally too!

xXx

You loved you boyfriend exactly as he is, an outgoing and very likeable guy, extremely welcoming. This extended to everyone he met, with the new girl, Maddie, being no exception. You were sympathetic to her situation. It was not easy finding out you died, especially considering she was murdered with no recollection of her death.

It seems like Wally made it his life mission to cheer her up or at least make her feel a little less miserable. While you loved that he wanted to spread his cheer, you felt a little left behind as he shifted his focus to her.

So, when Field Day came, you saw it as a way to not only trash the school on retaliation for your imprisonment, you could also blow off a bit of your anger at the Wally-Maddie situation. As soon as you made it to the field, you picked up a metal bat and began swinging on a wooden pole nearby you. When you heard a vehicle pulling up, you perked your head up, hearing the laughs of Wally and Maddie. You watched as he guided her swings against the vending machines, then whipping off his shirt as he runs around cheering.

As stupid as it was, you could feel angry tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You quietly slipped away from the group, heading back to the school. You had almost made it back without being noticed, until you heard Mr. Martin softly call your name. You stopped, wiping your eyes, and turned towards him.

"Where are you going? Field day is out here," he asks, motioning towards the group of ghosts causing unseen chaos a few yards away.

"I think I'm done for the day. Just need to go take a walk inside, Mr. Martin. A little break from the crazy," you explained, trying to come off as nonchalant. You could tell Mr. Martin did not fully believe you, but he let you go without any further questioning, letting you know you could talk to him later if you needed to. You nodded and slipped back inside.

You roamed the halls of the school, allowing memories of your time whilst alive swirl through your head, some from after your death as well. Anger and sadness swelled in your chest, and paired with your slight jealousy of Maddie, as ridiculous as you knew it was, sent you over the edge. Hot tears blurred your vision, leaking down your cheeks as your forehead met with the cool metal of the lockers. Your fists slammed against the red, the sound echoing down the halls as a soft sob left you.

You were angry at yourself for getting this upset. You knew Wally loved you, that he would never intentionally hurt you. And you were sure Maddie was not looking for anything more than friendship, if she was even looking for that among her investigation.

Your loud thoughts and sobs left you deaf to the boy calling out to you from down the hall. you weren't made aware of his presence until his hand made gentle contact with your shoulder. You whipped around, startled, until your eyes met the rich brown eyes that you love so much. His eyebrows furrowed together as he glanced at the wet marks running down your face.

"Hey, what's wrong," he asked, concern laced in his voice.

"It's nothing, Wally. I'm just being silly," you replied, moving your arm to wipe your face.

"It's not silly if its making you this upset." His hands moved to your face, cupping your cheeks and tenderly wiping the wetness from under your eyes. You groaned, wanting to hide your face from him as you realized he wasn't planning on letting you go without an answer.

"Okay, okay, I have been feeling a little off lately," You started, only continuing once he nodded at you to. "I feel like I should be used to being dead by now, and I am pretty accepting of it, but days like this just remind me that I AM dead. Then I start thinking about my life, which sucks. But also… I haven't seen much of you recently."

He urged you to continue, bringing his face closer to yours.

"You've been a bit busy lately… With Maddie. Don't get me wrong, I love that you are trying to make her afterlife a bit better, and there is no one who can do it better than you. I am just feeling a little left behind."

Wally's eyes widened as a panicked look shot onto his face, dropping his hands from your cheeks, opting for wrapping his arms around your shoulders, crushing your body against his.

"No, no, no. That's not even close to what is happening, I swear. I just want to be friends with Maddie, nothing else," sincerety was apparent in his tone. You let out a quiet chuckle, wrapping your arms around his midsection and holding him as close as you could, burying your face in his chest.

"I know, I know. Call it paranoia. You would never hurt me," you mumbled against him. He pulled back, cupping your face again, staring into your eyes.

"Never ever. You're it for me. All I want and more."

"I don't regret meeting you. You are my everything, Wally Clark."

Your lips met in a sweet, firm kiss, trying to convey all the love you held to each other.

[beth-purcell]

Another Finding Frankie fic

A silly little drabble with the Lucky Contestant as he tries to make conversation with the other human post adventure and is left with more questions than answers.

“Why do you call me Lucky?” The IT person looked at him and shrugged.

“That’s what the bosses call you.” Was the retort. “And it’s not like we’ve had a lot of time to talk since you’ve survived.” 

“Ok, fair, but don’t you think that’s a bit misleading?”

“Well, ‘Dumbass who managed to survive a rigged murder game show when they weren’t supposed to and managed to get the Sentient Cartoon to say a variety of new swear words that people didn’t realize exist’ doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.” 

“Seriously?”

“Ok, fine, what do you want me to call you then?”

“Hey, I’m not saying I don’t like the nickname, I was just curious.” If looks could kill, he would be dead before the IT Guy rolled her eyes and turned to the tablet to continue to type. “So, uh, what are you doing?”

“I have to install the new POS system manually on the registers.” 

“A POS system?”

“Yeap, we are open during the off season, and the expectation is that we’ll be at max capacity given your performance.”

“Even with the police raid?”

“Apparently.”

“And the bodies?”

“You see any around?” Lucky stopped and looked around, noting that the amount of blood stains and dead bodies were significantly lower than when he raced. “You were out for at least a week.”

“I doubt moms will be cool with their kids dying because they suck at parkour and that monster grabs them.”

“Technically, the obstacles are being reworked for a younger audience.” Lucky’s expression was priceless. “The boss absolutely hates it too, but he was giving the ultimatum that he does this or else the In-Person Frankie gets to be the one calling the shots next season.”

“Huh…didn’t think he reported to anyone, but good to know…” A shrug. “So what am I doing?”

“What?”

“During this off season or whatever….I’m not working retail.”

“You wouldn’t join a murder game show if you did.” The tech sighed as she pressed a few buttons. “I don’t think you’ll be running registers, if they are having you work; I think you’ll probably be acting as a meet and greet; You are the “Lucky Contestant” after all,”

“I don’t do well with crowds.”

“Then just call the big guy. Loves an excuse to cause chaos.”

“Call…the big guy?” A nod. “I don’t think he’d forgive me for the whole Hexagon Havoc and murdering him thing.”

“Well, the place won’t open for another few weeks, so you two can work on bonding.” Was the simple response, as the tech began to walk to another side of the floor, to the other registers. “He likes the pink cake pops by the way, and don’t even think about the carrot cake ones; those aren’t very throwable!” The contestant blinked slowly as they were soon left by themselves at the registers.

“...What?”

[centrally-unplanned]

I have begun watching House of the Dragon btw - it is fun! I like it just fine. I think the core cast is very good - Emmy D'Arcy & Olivia Cooke imbue a ton of pathos into their roles while keeping everything grounded, and Matt Smith, I mean he is Matt Smith I don't think anyone alive holds a candle to him when it comes to bringing aggressively compensating levels of caustic superiority to a character. They work these scripts really well.

I think the core of the changes are right. The Dance of Dragons, in the books, is a Madness of War story; everyone is an asshole. Rhaenyra is a murderous autocrat, Alicent is a scheming backstabber, both sides are run by awful people. Those awful people sometimes do glorious things, but their glory or loves are in service of foolish ends that destroy the Targaryen dynasty and ruin the country for the common man. It is told as a history book after the fact, and I really like it - I know some don't, but I think as a match to the medium it works well.

That was never gonna work on TV. There is the idea of doing the "everyman" approach, where the main characters are commonfolk soldiers trying to survive or the like. Not saying no one could make that work, but it is a problem of adaptation; the source material gives you nothing to work with there. It is a story of queens and battles, it would tonally be a mismatch to the previous Game of Thrones show as a brand, as an audience expectation, but (unlike say the Hobbit) a mismatch with the source material as well. And doing like a high concept "historian's tale" ehhhh again someone could do it but that is a risky bet. Telling a period drama is what the market can bear, and the story's details are amazing for a period drama; it just needs protagonists.

So you change up the characters. Rhaenyra is now motivated by justice and a desire to rule well alongside ambition, Alicent believes Viserys changed his mind at the last minute, miscommunications and the chaos of war cause the most heinous early actions as opposed to pure malice. I think this works well because the core darker elements are also preserved; the fear that Rhaenyra must kill Alicent's sons to preserve her rule motivates Alicent to roll the dice, her character doesn't matter so much for that dynamic, and so on for other changes. The story's core is still there, but now it has more depth to it, more realistic political dilemmas causing the level of tragedy.

I do think they are going a bit too far on a few of these tracks though? The latest episode (S02E03) screams of modern morality mucking things up as Rhaenyra, despite the fact that she murdered the King's son and the opposing faction is openly mobilizing armies to attack, is not only saying "let's give peace a chance" (that is fine) but refusing to do anything proactive to prep for the alternative. Her counselors propose flying around via dragon to make houses join her cause, and she is like "no, we can't use them, it's too violent"...then don't use them. Just threaten to use them, fucking bluff, get people on your side. Burn just one little household, as a treat. Be trying to make deals with Lord Paramounts, be gathering sellswords, show us something active so you don't look incompetent.

I feel the same way about Viserys deathbed statements to Alicent that trick her into thinking he changed his mind - why do you need this? You already did all that work showing me that Alicent felt she had to put her sons in power to protect them, that most of the council was already planning to do it, and all that season of buildup. Just let that good, justified stuff happen without a silly name mixup from a dying guy. Let Alicent be a little evil.

There is more than one whiff of "boys rush to war while women in their wisdom counsel restraint" in this show, and it is a bad look. For one it is a little sexist, and for two by mixing it with modern sensibilities, they look like rubes in their non-modern war. God forbid a woman do a single coup, that is my gender equality.

Hopefully they get this out their system as the war ramps up - I do think they will.

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread] Night 66: Holy Palace's Aladdin

It almost feels weird to return to Aladdin right now

Weird thingies

Idk, just that giant head is kinda silly

Also, damn, Aladdin's wobbly legs

Nvm, they aren't Schehe's clones. But it still confuses me a little, cuz I feel like it's sort of implied later on that they are? But I might be misremembering thing - I'll comment on it when I get to the Magnostadt Arc. For now it's just a bit ?? Like, it's a real possibility Ohtaka didn't plan that far ahead yet.

You look really sad about it for a guy who nearly murdered him in blind rage

Ok, to be fair, I can imagine him feeling bad about it after calming down. Still, weird choice to want to explain Alma Torran to Judar instead of, idk, Yunan for example. I feel like it would have made the whole dying-and-coming-back-over-and-over-again a little more bearable. To actually know the point of that. Bc when Aladdin and Yunan talk, Yunan admits that Ugo'd never explained anything, and in that form (the blob, probably) form he couldn't ask. So. That fucking sucked.

Anyway. Giving Solomon's Wisdom to Judar? Really? I think you're putting too much faith in that guy.

F

I... forgot that's what happened. I remembered they were the same guy, but that magic turning into one? Tbh, cool.

Pretty!

Hello there, characters nobody cares about, least of all Ohtaka

Don't worry, grls, I've got u.

Look at this annoyed Alibaba, lmao

F A T E

I mean, I jest, but it's pretty cool. Fate is one of Magi's main themes, that for sure, and to have it explained the way it is, I think it really works.

Black Sun

Honestly, I just love it being explained like that. Things becoming inverted, distorted.

Idk man, there's not much I think I can say about it. The explanation is solid on its own, and it's pretty damn cool.

Tho later Ohtaka will come and try to convince us that maybe falling isn't so bad after, yeah, sure, all these brainwashed people are a good proof of that...

That's... yeah. I was thinking about it lately, cuz I was thinking about the Kou Empire Arc.

Maybe that entire becoming more powerful god than the other guy then that guy becoming more powerful than you and then you becoming more powerful than him... etc didn't come out of nowhere here, bc Hakuryuu's falling feels kind of like that. Abra is fallen, so she works against fate, so she fucked up the fate for Hakuryuu, who then proceeded to, idk, +2 to that by also falling, and, since he's not returning things to the actual fate's course, he just makes even bigger of a mess... Which is ironic as fuck. He tried to destroy Al-Thamen by literally doing what they wanted to - sowing more chaos and disasters all around, which at worst could have led the world to an end (given Judar could cause Il Illah to descend, apparently). Idk man, put some make up on to the clown music, you fucking moron.

Like, don't get me wrong, I like Hakuryuu for the most part, but Jesus Fuck he's an idiot. This is why he's constantly painted as immature. Because he fucking is immature. He never thinks things through, has no patience to speak of once he snaps, and ends up just making everything worse for everybody and himself, and wakes up with a hand in the pot, because turns out he has no idea how to handle the aftermath of his stupidass choices, because he was too busy fucking up people's minds to consider what happens after the war.

Ok rant over.

Foreshadowing

(soon) RIP Alibaba

Honestly, that's such a cool moment.

It kind of looks cute

Idk man, awesome moment all around. The fact that all of these blobs are helping him up is really cute, too

That crying Aladdin : (

Also, not gonna lie, this feels like the theme of this arc, among other things. And I'll definitely talk about it more. It's about losing the people you love, but at the same time meeting new ones, too. Of course they won't replace them, but the point is simply you're not alone.

;;;

Honestly, it just looks aweosme

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group E Round 2

[image ID: the first image is of No Significant Harassment, a shadowy figure standing behind a sleeping pink-red, fox-like creature. their green hands seem to be holding up the floating creature. the second image is of Libby Day, a white woman with short blond hair, wearing a green cap and a gray leather jacket. end ID]

No Significant Harassment

They're just a silly little guy. A jokester. Significant harassment if you will. Anyway, a more in depth run down: They're a city sized supercomputer built by a Buddhist adjacent society to figure out how to transcend the 'Great Cycle' (semi-metaphorical cycle of death and rebirth) in a safer way than the previous method (submerging oneself in the 'void sea' which is a mysterious golden liquid that dissolves whatever it touches). Despite being built for this express purpose NSH never really shows a pressing interest in ascension, even cracking jokes about those who are still looking for a solution. Whether this is due to indifference, dislike of, or humor to cope with being unable to ascend is not clear and really up to interpretation. Example: NSH: I wish them super good luck in that endeavor. How is it going to happen? Have the overseers gnaw through bedrock until their entire can crashes down in the void sea? BSM: Please be respectful when speaking of the Void Sea. Grey Wind, where did you hear this? CW: I really shouldn't say. He's going to attempt some sort of breeding program. Thought you might want to know. NSH: Haha with the slimers, lizards and etceteras? Surely the answer was in a lizard skull all along! He's very flippant, but does care very intensely for those close to him. NSH: Moon? It's me again. NSH: I do not know if you are receiving these. Please signal in any way you can. NSH: I need to talk to you. I need to know you're okay. NSH: … NSH: Its difficult for us to assist you over this distance. NSH: Even more difficult for us to do anything in the midst of these tantrums. NSH: Were going to try everything that we can. NSH: Just hold on a little longer. (Context for previous convo: They genetically engineered a super organism of a slugcat (the species you play as in Rain World) to help reset his coworker/sibling after her collapse and restart her systems. He was so desperate to fix her that he accidentally messed up the slugcat's (Hunter) genetic code and as a result it became riddle with the Rot (relatively similar to aggressive cancer) :( which parallels his other coworker/siblings condition who also has the rot. ) He canonically uses he/they pronouns too! Nonbinary swag! NSH has major internet troll vibes. He has sent a data pearl of "something distasteful" to his neighbors on several(?) occasions and causes chaos. If he had access to the wider internet he'd probably be an influencer So…yeah! Vote NSH this website likes the allure of heavy machinery and stuff like that so… there you go. Kind of a blorbo. End post.

Libby Day

She's the sole survivor of a mass murder for which her brother was blamed, and she uses her fame to get money to put meals on the table, until one such money-seeking job gets her to start thinking about the truth of what really happened all those years ago. Literally the bitterest bitch, she's so mean and spiteful, I love her so much <3. I feel like Libby's the least known of the Gillian Flynn main character girlies because the movie adaptation was neither popular nor all that good (compared to Sharp Objects and Gone Girl), so I'm really hopeful that one day people will appreciate her :) [additional propaganda 1]

[shadedsecrets]

Recently I have been thinking about the phenomena of 'forgetting or minimizing the terrible things a character you like does and treating/writing them like an innocent lil guy even though they have done some SHIT.' I am personally dubbing this 'Rose-Tinted Blorbo' until such a time as something snappier comes along. It's something I have noticed myself doing without realizing it, and then I got to thinking about why.

Not going to write a post telling anybody HOW they have to enjoy a character, because that's... silly, and really none of my business. Enjoy what you enjoy, interoperate your favorites the way that makes you happiest, anyone telling you to stop is a cop. People can consume other fan content, the ORIGINAL content... and make their own to better cater to their tastes, no one can stop anyone else from doing this. But examining WHY this is a thing feels worth-while, so hey, why not.

I am not and expert, but I can think about why I have done it and offer some thoughts...

For me, at least... I am a terrible sucker for the general theme of 'Needing and FINALLY GETTING help'. So when I see a character that I like.... who has been through it and has definitely not finished processing it... Well, my little heart focuses right in on that aspect of their character. Like, for a recent example..... Astarian from Baldur's Gate III.

The man is a murderer. Not even remorseful about it, he has killed people and killing whatever is theoretically threatening him is the first reaction he has. It is clear that this is coming from a very dark place for him if you pay attention... But the man is still a murderer with no real plans to stop. In my brain, however... well, it knows the parts that really got it interested in the character, the aspects that it wants to play with, so this gets, on occasion..... sidelined. This also showed in my early fics with other characters I liked, where their need for support would be prioritized over all other characterizations... to their and the fic's detriment.

Does taking Astarian's volatile and extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms elevate the trauma and how intimate and scary it would be to work through it? Definitely! Is facing the consequences of a smarmy bastard's own behavior really great to watch? For sure! Does my brain still sometimes focus in on how hurt a character is instead of what they have done with that hurt and the sheer cruelty they used their pain as an excuse for? ....Some moments, yeah.

Some days I just want this person I like to see feel a little less hurt. Sometimes I want the glimmer of good inside them to be bigger and brighter than it really is. Sometimes I want them to have made different choices and see just how different they would be because of that. And sometimes, I want them to be horrible gremlins gleefully causing chaos on purpose and living for it, or complicated and tragic and screaming for blood the whole way down.

And I don't think that's a bad thing, necessarily, as long as you can stop and notice when you do put blinders on. Characters have multiple dimensions, and they feed into each other and strengthen each other when they are written well! Realizing that someone is a product of a really fucked up situation and holding them responsible for what they CHOSE to do are not mutually exclusive concepts.... but they are nuanced and complicated and there are some days where I don't want to think that hard.

That's okay. But it is so much more fun when you can look at a character from every angle and see both someone in need and deserving of love... and someone who is causing problems on purpose and needs to be stopped for everyone else's sake.

[leitmotif]

[Image ID: Tags reading #won't let me view artfight without making an account the homophobia of it all 😑 #but ahhh yeah please elaborate on zero but also water dragon lady that sounds sick as fuck #arranging a playdate for my ocs and ur ocs btw. if you even care #mine are a fantasy adventuring party so always imagining them going on sidequests for my mutuals' ocs. End Image ID.]

I HONESTLY FORGOT ABOUT THAT IM SO SORRY LOL. i will highlight my other fav oc from my artfight here since you couldnt see them hehe but i love all my ocs ofc

Zero (it/he) [image link] is my silly little sonic wolf oc [but also exists outside of the sonic universe bc he breached containment]. its Thing is that he is a robot but also not he's alive but also he's a ghost 😁formerly he was a cat named maeve with a special interest in the chaos emeralds who was studying ways to make fakes that worked just like the originals, so that they could be used to better society by powering things and such :] and he had prototypes that worked well but was never able to finish his work because he died in a lab explosion [he was murdered] 😁 but as he died his soul got sucked into one of the fake emeralds [a red one/power emerald] and was eventually found among the rubble and used to power a robot which is ZERO!! and so he has the robot body robot brain etc etc but with a mobian soul that gives it more autonomy than simply being an AI which is what the people who made it think he is [just an AI]. it doesn't have any of his memories though and in getting sucked into the power emerald he was kind of "corrupted" and is now like. campy gay villain brand of evil [that is to say. nothing truly abysmally evil like people are capable of in real life] but a little more fucked up because he does not remember ever being good! he's my silly little guy i love him it likes to cause problems on purpose and is now continuing its work on the fake emeralds but for world domination reasons ^_^ it has a scythe made of his chaos energy. very emotive when he's being real and usually smiles in the face of danger/enemies in a way that suggests he doesn't take it seriously, but usually puts up a front of smiley polite organic-non-robotic guy who isn't fucked up and evil at all. it does think its better than regular mobians for being a robot. trying to describe this in a way that's not like "this is my edgy oc he's EVIL and he KILLS PEOPLE" but. here you go HAHAHA this is just the spark notes version in favor of keeping this post from being 10 miles long [i know i wrote more for Aylin but trust. trust. if i wrote as much as i wanted to about it this would be MUCHHHH longer]

coughs. erm. moving on. Aylin (she/they/any) is my water dragon lady oc!! they were originally made for an ancient greece-themed D&D campaign but even though i'm not in it anymore they are still my babygirl. they are a water dragon who is able to shapeshift, and when underwater they are usually in their more mermaid-like form as they live among their mermaid friends. they are the main protector and overseer of the smaller sea that they live in. [it is so fucking loud here at work please excuse me if anything seems incoherent i am doing the impossible task of trying to think amidst a bunch of theatre kids (i love you theatre kid mutuals it is jsut SOOOO LOUD) <-techie voice] how their story goes is that in their world, mermaids are highly coveted by humans on land to be kidnapped and kept as wives or used to farm their coral antlers for jewelry. well one day a group of sailors comes by and attacks their little mermaid family, which she had been intentionally drawn away from by people working with the sailors causing a disruption in a part of the sea. they had expected their family to be able to protect themselves, but with advances in human technology, the sailors were able to overpower them and capture them, and those that they didn't capture they killed and took for their coral. when she returns to find the aftermath she doesn't know if any of her family/friends are still alive, just that they are gone and she knows the culprit- human beings -but doesn't know which ones in particular. so she makes it her mission to hunt down these people and rain hellfire [hell...water?] down upon them, and to find her missing family if she can. but in losing everything she has become a being basically made of grief and anger, thinly veiled under an expressionless face and mask. she now lives on the surface (with a human medic girl who lives by the sea, who she fell in love with but that's another story) disguised as a human trying to find the people who took her family from her and overthrow the establishment that allowed it to happen in the first place along with other non-humans hidden within the city who hate it just as much as them.

aaaaand honorable mention: Olly/Hollyhock (they/it) another silly robot oc but this time they don't know that they're a robot because they were raised in isolation. rapunzel kinnie 9000. they live out in the salt flats/desert with their "mother," living in an abandoned boat that fell out of use once all the water in the region dried up [very much based on the boats stuck out in the salt flats left by the receding aral sea in uzbekistan]. they are an artificer who makes things out of scraps that they find in and on other boats, plus materials that their mother occasionally brings back for them. these inventions often explode HAHA but that doesn't stop them, and thankfully since they live out in the middle of nowhere no one notices. they have a little hamster who likes to stay in their pocket named dustball and a puppy named rusty [they cannot die or age because i said so 😁 magic]. they are very naive and inexperienced with the real world, but long for connection with others and to leave their little isolated boat home. they have no idea that they're not a regular human being like their mother because she isn't around much, and when she is there's nothing that really tips them off that they're any different, because they look like a human in terms of appearance [underneath, their porcelain robot body has designs on it resembling uzbek ceramics] due to a magic core within them that gives them the look, feel, and sound of a regular human being. one day though their mother leaves and doesn't return. they wait, and wait, and wait, for a loooooooooong long time (their sense of "a long time" is a lot different (longer) obv being. a robot who lives out in the desert). when she still doesn't return and their boredom and loneliness becomes more than they can bear, they venture out for the first time :] so yeah. rapunzel kinnie

AND YEAH thank you for reading this if you got all the way through ^_^ peace and love and light etc etc

accidentally unfollowed you trying to send an ask i'm sorry :(( but i'd like to hear some stuff about ur ocs if you want! 👉👈

YOU'RE ALL GOOD i thought that was what happened when i saw the notif HAHA i've done that myself soooo many times

AND OMG..... [COMBUSTS] i have so many ocs its hard to choose just one to talk about... the one i* am the most mentally ill about is zero i'm spinning him around in my brain microwave i'm squeezing him like a squeaky toy i'm dropping him into a test tube to study im putting him in a centrifuge at maximum speed i'm sending him down a path of self-destruction i love him 😁

i also have several other ocs though most of the active ones you can see on my artfight [this is where i store my ocs sorry i could not figure out toyhouse even if my life depended on it i tried :pensive: zero and a couple others are not on there bc we're redoing their profiles.] some of the ref sheets are outdated (ex: aylin i need to update them OTL they are now a water dragon lady ^_^) but YEAH if u wanna ask about any of them.... smiles so nicely

[farcry5seedfamily]

Radio Calls|| John Seed Part 3

||The deputy finished helping Fall's End in killing the peggies and reopening the bar so that the resistance can drink and enjoy in peace, she met Mary May Fairgrave and to see Pastor Jerome again, thanking the deputy for bringing peace, in the night she left the bar to get some fresh air until she hears John's voice on her radio||

John: brothers and sisters someone out there is not playing by the rules, someone is taking from us. stealing what rightfully belongs to the Father. They are a murderer and a coward but God sees them and God will guide us to them, they will be found and they will be punished this is the will of the Father.

Deputy: Are you mad that I'm winning and you're losing? John, why are you hurting these people? *she says selfishly, looking around*

John: because they must join the will of the Father, that's why we do this, I want them to confess all the sins, and they must atone, remember that you owe me a confession in my bunker, deputy *he reasoned with the agent* If you want me to release Deputy Hudson, you must do what I ask of you. I don't like the idea of hurting Hudson if you don't do what I want.

Deputy: Give me a break, will you? Look. . .I know you're obsessed with me, I understand you, just like Jacob. . .you both want to have me, but the problem is that I won't give up so easily. *she looks at the "Yes" sign from a distance on the mountain* What I said in your bunker, it's true, I never lied to you, if I lied, do you think you'd let Hudson go free? of course not, john. . .I ask you for mercy, do you want to have me? send your people, and I surrender to them on my knees. I won't do anything wrong unless they shoot me with the bliss bullet.

John: I just want you to answer me truthfully. . . Why do you want to give up so easily to rescue your friend?.

Deputy: I may have a deep feeling, that I don't know if it will ever go away. *she is sincere with her soft voice* You and Jacob. . .Both of you are driving me crazy, I would like to get away from you, get away from this war, I don't know how it will end, I don't want to hurt you John, I never want to have that consciousness in my head in case. . .I make that mistake.

John: you are afraid, afraid that you don't want to hurt me, afraid of losing me, afraid of losing jacob, but you are very afraid that your people will turn their backs on you, and you won't know what to do with your life from now on? *he says calmly, listening to the agent about her problems.* come home Deputy, come with me where I can protect you from those demons that you have inside.

Deputy: I can't John, I don't want to abandon these people from so much destruction that you and your brothers do, I'm tired, tired of doing this, but I had no other choice, I should never have come here, I shouldn't have arrested your brother and caused this chaos. *she lets out a frustrated sigh, biting her lip.* I don't know why I'm talking to you, it's silly to have confessed my attraction to you.

John: Deputy. . . Please, we need to talk. *he says pleading looking for the solution to talk to the Deputy face to face.*

Deputy: There's nothing to talk about, I'll continue with what I'm doing, I'll kill you and your whole family, don't provoke me John, you don't know what I'm capable of, you don't know me perfectly. . .stay alert John, because very soon your reign will fall. . . *she turns off her radio so as not to hear John anymore, then looks at the "Yes" sign and thinks whether to continue fighting or to leave the resistance.* This is going to kill me to my grave. . .

What do you guys think? I love the Seed Brothers but would you like me to do a special scene between John, Jacob and the Deputy with angst,drama and a little bit more fluff.

and I will also do supernatural scenes with the Deputy who is a vampire or werewolf with the Seed family where they will soon discover the secret of their little lamb.

but that will be very soon. . . have a nice day everyone.

[theminecraftbee]

yoooooooooo a friend recced Ill Omen to me and I enjoyed it a lot please tell me more about your vex scar headcanons / post-fic events / I'd absolutely love it if you turned it into a full chaptered story, lots of potential for a longform here ccc:

oh, i'm glad you liked it! (and the idea that people are already apparently reccing it is wild to me, lol.) sure, i can tell you a little more about the headcanons attached to it! as for a fully chaptered story... some of my short oneshots have odds of getting made into longer things, but to be honest, ill omen is one of those times that it's like. i had a high concept. i did not have a... plot. and like, sometimes my silly concept ficlets DO develop a plot, just look at the boatem road trip! but right now i have nothing in mind for ill omen.

(that being said if anyone else wants to write continuations of ill omen, feel free! this one by silverskye13 may interest you!)

anyway so a few specific headcanons that go with this thing:

there was, at one point, a point in time when scar and cub had a summoner. they do not anymore. they, uh. dealt with that problem. with prejudice. yeah that guy is so beyond dead that it's not even funny. like, so extremely super dead. holy shit.

understandably scar does not want to do this to grian, but also thanks to being rather high on the magic and trusting grian more than he should anyway, is not at ALL invested in finding out if there's another solution for the summoner thing. at all. even the logical, rational part of his mind is like "its not that bad honestly, better than it could be".

...cub will most likely disagree with scar's assessment because cubfan is both more practical than scar and not high on magic at the moment.

grian, for the record, knew he was probably doing a LITTLE wrong by using scar's true name in any capacity but had not processed that it mattered in any meaningful sense. also he didn't know that "summon" would mean more than "inconveniently teleport scar, a thing that will definitely be funny". oh boy oh boy does he get to learn!

despite the fact that grian is normally a pain in the ass to everyone he is extremely disconcerted by all of this and Wants It To Stop Why Do His Actions Have Consequences

speaking of consequences, boy does grian get reactions like he's actually an evoker from other mobs on instinct now! sure hope that doesn't mean anything important.

vexes are little deadly fey things that typically can only exist on this plane of existence if they're summoned into it, which is part of the whole 'instinctively likes having an evoker' thing. scar and cub... dealt with this. (as previously mentioned, with large amounts of murder.) they like causing chaos a lot. hermitcraft is great for this!

wherever people go with this from that oneshot things definitely get weird from there though

and that is basically all i have for that oneshot! most of this was implied in the fic itself too i think so i don't know how much new is here... i'm glad you liked it!

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏)

Tag: @seacottons

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐷𝑎𝑑! 𝐴𝑈.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2𝐾

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎��𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟.......𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑗𝑜𝑦.

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~December 5th~

Y/N hurried towards her friends who were already settled at the very top of the mountain, their snowboards and skiis all lined up in a perfect row.

"Last one down pays for dinner." One of them suggested to which they all unanimously agreed to.

"3, 2, Go!"

The racers all started sloping down the snowy mountain, some going to different directions, but ultimately they were all headed south. Y/N shifted her weight to keep balance on her snowboard. Usually she'd show off and do a trick, but right now she was focused on getting down as fast as possible.

"Pick up the pace Y/N!" Her friend teased as they swooped right past her.

Y/N let out a snort as she leaned forward to get more speed and traction. She also decided to move more to the right, where she knew a shortcut that none of the others knew about. She let out a small chuckle at the thought of their faces when they saw her all the way down there.

Her smile faded fast when she saw someone step out right in front of her, a dark haired male that seemed preoccupied with taking a picture he didn't notice she was coming.

"Look out!" She shouted, finally getting his attention.

The boy froze and seemed unable to move. Y/N swerved to the left, a little too fast and ended up falling off her board, tumbling down a few feet before landing on a bed of snow. She groomed softly as she lifted her head, already feeling the aching of her muscles.

"Are you ok?!" The same man who had inadvertently caused her accident ran over and helped her sit up.

"I...think so?" She asked rather than answered.

She quickly stood up, taking off her googles and winter hat to try and inspect what damage had been done not only to her body but to her board. She dusted some of the snow off her and looked up to find the mystery man looking at her intently.

"What? Am I bleeding?" She touched her face and forehead, not a stranger to bleeding due to some of the accidents she'd been through.

"No! Not at all!! Just......"

He smiled shyly, dimples clearly shown on his cheeks as his eyes formed small crescents.

"You're really pretty..." He confessed awkwardly, leaving her baffled and speechless.

"Th-thank you....you're pretty handsome yourself..." She tucked some hair behind her ear.

"I'm San." He introduced himself, holding out a hand for her to take, which she promptly did.

"I'm Y/N."

You were sad that you had to pay for your friend's dinner because you lost, but you weren't to sad because San asked you out for a date the next day.

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~January 12, One Year Later~

"Brrr. It's freezing out there."

San shook the snow off him, placing his boots on the corner.

"I told you it was going to snow, but you don't listen." She rolled her eyes at him.

Adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate, she picked them up and set them down on the table in front of the fireplace, then proceeded to wrap one of the blankets around herself. San wasted no time in cuddling up next to her and taking one of the mugs in his hand, sipping slowly so as to not burn himself. Smiling sweetly at her, he scooted closer to her, his head resting on her shoulder.

"Remember when we met last year?" He suddenly spoke.

Y/N nearly spat her chocolate back into the mug.

"Ahhh yes. You mean when I nearly killed you?"

San laughed softly at that.

"Never in my life did I think I'd actually end up dating my almost murderer."

She rolled her eyes at that.

"You were the idiot that wasn't paying attention." She reminded him.

"I was trying to take a picture of a bunny that was nearby thank you. Which you scared off by the way."

They began reminiscing about their times after a year of dating, laughing about their first fight, their first kiss and the times they met each other's respective parents.

"You looked terrified of my dad."

"How was I supposed to be calm? Especially after he said he wanted to talk to me in private?" San defended himself.

Y/N hummed softly.

"What did he talk to you about anyway?"

San shrugged softly.

"The usual...like...if I broke your heart, he was going to break my balls."

Y/N actually slapped her knee at that one, knowing fully well her father would really be the type to say such things.

San scratched the back of his head as he wondered if he should say the next part.

"He.....also asked....... if I loved you...."

Y/N felt her heart drop at that word. Even though they had been dating for a year, they had never said the L word. She wanted to change the subject, afraid of his answer, but curiosity got the better of her and she had to ask.

"What....what did you tell him?" She fidgeted with the ends of her hoodie.

San shifted so he sat in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he confessed:

"I told him I loved you with all my heart and that.....I hoped you felt the same way..."

He looked at her with hopeful eyes, gulping slightly, afraid that his feelings weren't reciprocated. When Y/N didn't respond for a minute, he let out a defeated sigh.

"All right. I understand." He made move to get up, but Y/N made him stay in place.

"No silly. I was just shocked you actually told my father that." She explained.

"Well I wasn't going to lie. I do love you Y/N, truly I do." His voice sounded desperate at this point.

Y/N teared up and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Oh Sannie.....I love you too."

San widened his eyes at her words, he felt himself tearing up as well, but he was filled with warmth at the thought that she felt the same, it was not a one sided love. He couldn't help himself as he cupped her face and began pecking her lips repeatedly.

"I love you. I love you with all my heart."

He giggled as he intensified his kisses, turning them from small pecks into more heated and passionate lip locks that had her craving for more. San ended up pushing her onto the floor, his hands placed on either side of her face. They both looked at each other, both wanting to ask the same question but too shy to actually speak out about having their first time right then.

"Y/N.....if you don't want to, we can-"

She silenced him by pulling him on top of her and resuming their makeout session.

"I want to. Go ahead." She assured him.

San kissed her forehead.

"I love you so much."

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~December 25, 3 years later~

All of the boys gathered around the tree, already ecstatic at the thought of opening their presents.

"I'm really looking forward to Yeosang's gift for me." Mingi bounced in his seat.

"I told you. I got you socks." Yeosang repeated for the thousandth time, making everybody burst out laughing.

"You know you're just joking Sangie." Wooyoung pinched his cheek, much to Yeosang's dismay.

The clock struck midnight, signaling that it was now time to open presents. There was a lot of noises, squealing and rustling of paper heard, the latter all discarded near the floor, soon picked up by Seonghwa, who hated seeing litter scattered about.

"Perfect for you Hwa. I actually got you a broom and dustpan set." Hongjoong snickered as he held out the cleaning supplies from the house to his friend.

"Shut up." Seonghwa groaned, not at all amused by the joke.

"Calm down. I actually got you something else." Hongjoong held out the actual gift, which turned out to be Toothless slippers and bathrobe set. It made Seonghwa burst out laughing, donning his infamous awkward smile.

"Yah! What is this Kang Yeosang?!" Mingi held out a box full of assorted socks.

Yeosang merely shrugged.

"What? You all laughed and joked that I wasn't serious. Jokes on you bitches. I was dead serious." Yeosang sipped his tea as he stared Mingi down, who merely pouted.

"Look on the bright side Mingi. Yunho might stop complaining about you stealing his socks." Seonghwa patted his shoulder.

"It's not me!" Mingi retorted.

"No one else's feet but yours fit in them!" Yunho accused him.

Y/N and San just laughed and decided to just enjoy the presents they got for each other. Y/N was happy that San liked his presents, but she was saving the best for last, knowing he was going to go wild about it.

Pulling him outside, she closed the door behind them both, ignoring the chaos going on inside.

"If it's another mistletoe trick, I won't mind." San was already puckering his lips.

"No silly....there's another present I wanted to give you."

"Oh?" San tilted his head.

She pulled out a small and thin white box that had a purple ribbon wrapped around it. San shook it near his ear, trying to guess what was in it, but had no clue. He carefully unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box. He had to do a double take as he peered into the contents. He looked at his lover with wide eyes.

"Is this....?" He asked for confirmation.

She nodded and chuckled happily. San's face lit up and he picked her up, spinning her around as he kissed the side of her head.

"Oh my God! This is the best Christmas present ever my love! Thank you!"

Tears of joy started streaming down his face as he embraced the love of his life for a long time. He wasted no time in speeding back inside the house and wave the object around for everyone to see.

"Guys! We're having a baby! You're all gonna be uncles!"

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~December 5, Present Day~

San and Y/N made sure the carrier was covered fully by the long and thick blanket. After making sure it was sunny, San opened the door and allowed his sweetheart to walk out. Y/N carefully walked down the steps of the cabin they always stayed in since the day they met. San followed after her, one step behind her, ready to help if she needed anything.

They both looked at each other and smiled. Y/N put the carrier gently down on the blanket of snow as San took out his camera.

"Ready." San gave her the ok sign.

Y/N peeled back the blanket covering the carrier, revealing their tiny 4 month old baby daughter, who was now wide awake and observing her surroundings.

"Smile snowflake." San took a picture of her.

Light snow started to fall around them and the tiny baby reached her hand out to touch this new object that was foreign to her. A tiny snowflake fell on her nose and she sneezed softly when it made contact with her skin.

Her parents couldn't help but coo at how lovely and adorable she was. Picking her up along with several blankets, Y/N showed off the view to her.

"Look darling. This is the exact spot daddy and I met years ago."

San chuckled as he kept taking photos of his two most precious treasures in his life. After getting his fill, he walked up next to Y/N, poking his daughter's cheek.

"Even though you were born in summer, I'm sure you'll learn to love the winter just as much as we do."

The baby continued to be fascinated by the falling snow around her, her arms flailing into the air, trying to catch it, only to fall in confusion every time it melted in her tiny hand.

"I say she already loves it." Y/N noticed her reactions.

"I'm glad she does. I can't wait to bring her here every year to watch the first snow fall every time." San kissed her tiny head before looking back at his wife and repeating the action on her forehead.

"I love you. And I love our precious snowflake too."

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[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: You Can Run

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, fighting verbally, sadness

-Words: 3.4k

Chapter 14: You Can Run

Words: 3.4K

When Tom was mad, it was hot. His anger sometimes made you weak at the knees but now, he was fuming. There was nothing remotely sexy about Tom abandoning Parker, his only son.

Parker had been working with Angus Wilson, a sworn enemy of the Hollands, in an attempt to hurt Tom. Parker had been taking out Tom’s men, one by one by the order of Wilson. From the beginning there had been an unspoken rivalry between Wilson’s mob and the Hollands.

Wilson always trying to weasel his way into the inner workings of the mob and cause chaos. Nobody never knew he’d take as far as killing someone innocent just to get to Tom.

Tom’s feelings were divided straight down the middle. He was seething with anger from Parker’s reveal but he had never been so fearful in his entire life. For the past fews months, everything only escalated.

Starting with a somewhat threatening note to the death of Charlotte. In the end she was just collateral damage on a one-sided war.

To the planned murders of Tom’s soldiers. People he had chosen to protect him and his family. People he was close to.

To the death of a close friend. Jazz meant a lot to Tom, her being one of his first friends after joining the mob. They came up together among the ranks. Learning the rules one by one.

To orchestrated murder attempts on you and Tom. You multiple times. Seeing you half-dead lying in his arms, changed him. Only thinking about, coming home and having to tell Parker and Rosie you didn’t make it. He wouldn’t allow himself to be put in the position, he couldn’t.

Tom was selfish the day of the helicopter accident. Vowing to follow you, to be with you, if you died and leave everyone else behind. But his mind couldn’t just allow him to forget about Parker and Rosie though. He didn’t want to leave them, but he felt as though he didn’t have a choice.

At the moment he was granted the liberty to be selfish. Being free of the guilt of choosing to leave his kids. As you slowly lost the life inside you, his mind flooded with what if’s. What if he decided to die alongside you? Leaving Parker, Rosie, his family, and even Harrison and Henry distraught. But Tom had never known happiness where you weren’t in his life. You brought light and laughter into his dark and gloomy existence. You were someone he couldn’t live without.

Tom vowed to only to protect you, Parker and Rosie from now on. Torn by all the thoughts that roamed through his head, if Parker deserved any of this. Parker’s very soul has been tainted with blood and death. Exposing him to the mob might have been a mistake, one you will have to live with.

Tom didn’t see an outcome where someone didn’t end up shattered. Broken down by betrayal or loss. Parker had already broken his heart once today and he wouldn’t let him be the reason you or Rosie had lost their lives. Tom was now looking out for himself, you and Rosie. Parker was nothing more than a traitor.

“You can’t kick him out Tom,” you yelled, trying to calm Tom down.

“The hell I can’t,” Tom shouted, greater in volume.

“He is my son and I won’t allow it,” you said, holding your ground.

“Y/N, he has been working against me this entire time. Against us.”

“He stays.”

“He killed half my men. He killed Jazz.”

“So that’s what you’re really upset about your dead mistress.”

“I never slept with her and you know that. Parker can’t stay here, I can’t even at look at him.”

“I say he can. What are you gonna do? Hurt me? Because you didn’t get your way,” you quipped. You knew Tom would never lay a hand on you.

“No, love. I could never. But know this, from this moment on he is no longer my son,” Tom explained. It was up to you to mend the bridge Parker burned.

You walked out of the office, suddenly craving a drink. Something strong and potent to drown yourself in.

In some way, you understood where Tom was coming from. The mob lessons only started about 2 months ago and you realized that Parker was no longer your sweet loving boy.

Parker, as a child, was always carefree. Never desired the mob life. Scared to hurt even the most delicate butterfly. But now, you had lost sight of who your son was. Lying, sneaking out, back stabbing, all these things were something you and Tom never instilled in Parker.

When Parker first turned down the offer to take on the mantle, you were relieved, ecstatic actually. You knew it would crush Tom’s soul but your son would get to live a rather normal life. Tom definitely wouldn’t stand for it and banish Parker the moment he turned on him but at least Parker would be happy living a life on his own. Not living in the shadows, scared of what lurks behind every dark corner. He could find love and happiness, somewhere far away from here.

Hearing about all the horrible acts Parker has committed broke your heart. That night a few months ago, corrupted him. Inviting him to be a part of a table that he was never ready to play at.

“Mom, is dad in his office?” Parker asked timidly.

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s such a good idea you go in there,” you said, trying to comfort Parker.

“He has to talk to me eventually.”

“He will, he just needs time.”

“How long?” Parker asked. Tom refusing to acknowledge killed him.

“I don’t know —“ you said, but was cut off by Tom slamming his office door shut, hard enough to shake the paintings that adorned the walls.

“Dad, I’m sorry. Everything started when Charlotte died.” Parker stammered, trying to explain himself as quickly as possible as Tom came out his office for a brief second to freshen up glass of scotch.

“Not now Parker, I just ran out of scotch,” Tom said, brushing him off. “Dad please. Talk to me. Let me explain,” Parker begged.

“Parker, you put all our lives in danger. Your mom’s, Rosie’s and mine. I think you understand I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Dad, can we just talk?”

“No.” Tom said retiring back into his office. You didn’t see him for the rest of the night, until he finally stumbled his way up the stairs to your guys bedroom.

Having drunk himself silly though the hours. Finishing every bottle found in his office bar cart. Mixing various liquors such as, whiskey, scotch, bourbon, vodka. If it was in the Holland household he drank it dry.

The next day, he repeated the same process. His men would funnel throughout his office, mainly Haz. And Tom would only leave to freshen up his drink or retrieve the meal you had cooked for him. One time when Tom came back, he found Parker waiting for him in his office.

“Parker what are you doing in here?” Tom asked, annoyed to the last person he wanted to see.

“I need to talk to you,” Parker pleaded.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what? Ignoring me,” Parker quipped.

“No. I’M FIXING THE MESS YOU FUCKING CREATED!” Tom screamed, letting all his frustrations out.

“Good.”

“What?”

“Yell at me. At least you’re acknowledging me. I’m here. Yell at me,” Parker encouraged.

“You’re only here because your mother insisted you be. If it were up to me you’d be long gone. Parker, I’m not ready to talk about this. Please leave,” Tom begged.

He couldn’t face Parker yet. Not until he had a plan to deal with Wilson. Parker had conveniently left out the part of Wilson being dead.

Parker’s standing with Tom only grew worse. Coming from a normal father and son dynamic, morphing into a mentor and student to now pure chaos. Parker had no clue as to where he stood with his dad.

So he came to the person who knew Tom better than he knew himself, you. Parker knocked on your cracked door, finding you laying in bed invested in a book.

“Mom?” Parker murmured with teary eyes, hiding in the shadow of the doorframe. Shielded from the light.

“Parker? Oh baby come here,” you said, as you saw your son fighting back tears. How matter how old he gets he will always be your baby.

“He hates me,” Parker whispered, crying into your shoulder.

“No, your dad loves you,” you reassured.

“No, he doesn’t. He wishes I was dead,” Parker cried.

“Did he say that?” You questioned, a little agitated with Tom.

“No, but I know. Everything that has happened is my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Mom, it was Wilson who caused the helicopter crash. You almost died. How do you not hate me also?” Parker exclaimed. He knew he really screwed up and didn’t know how to fix it.

“Like this. I love you. I’m your mom and I will always love you. I know you didn’t know Wilson was using you. You made a mistake,” you told him.

“Thank you mom, I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I wish dad believed that.”

“I’ll talk to him and you’ll never lose me.” You held Parker in your arms a little longer. Cherishing the moment. It didn’t matter if he old he grew, you were still able to comfort him.

You made your way downstairs to confront your husband. Parker was more of an adult than Tom at that moment. Tom pouted like his toys had been taking away.

“Tom, we need to talk,” you said, coming into the office.

“Now’s not a good time,” Tom asserted, barely acknowledging you.

“When is it ever? You need to talk to Parker.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t be in the same room with him let alone look at him. What makes you think I can talk to him?” Tom explained. “Tom, he’s your son. Please just talk to him, for me. He thinks you hate him.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand why you aren’t mad. He almost got us killed!” Tom shouted, annoyed that you didn’t feel the same way. It was you who fought for your life the most in the helicopter accident.

“Tom, you can’t blame him for that. Wilson would’ve done it with or without him,” you exclaimed.

“I thought you were fucking dead. And that entire time we sat waiting for someone to come. All I could think about was how I encouraged you to go on the business trip. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room with me but, I made you get on that helicopter,” Tom cried, finally allowing the guilt to get to him.

When you came home, he was only focused on getting your memory back. And if he needed to be everyone’s shoulder to cry on, then he would. Not allowing himself to break. “Tom, you didn’t know—“ you tried to say but were cut off.

“You asked for a separate room at the hotel and refused to eat dinner with me. I thought we could make up on the flight back. Because you’d be confined to a space with me. That’s why I switched it to a helicopter ride instead the jet. Cause the view would be pretty. Give you one last nice memory together before you divorce me.” “I would have never, Tom.”

“I thought I was the reason, I almost lost you. The kids almost lost you. I blamed myself.” Tom cried, a few tears falling. “Tommy, I’m here now. I’m okay,” you whispered.

“Yes you are, but are son is actually the reason. And I can’t look at him without knowing he almost took away the most important thing to me. I’m sorry.”

“Tom, he was just a kid, still is. He needs you to tell you love him and forgive him. If I can forgive him, for almost costing me my life, twice. Can you?”

“Yes, darling. If you need me to, I can. Can you just come here for a second first?” Tom questioned, just wanting to forget everything and have you comfort him for a second.

“Yes.” “I just want to hold you,” Tom said, grabbing a hold of you. You always felt sane in Tom’s arms. Finding solace in the darkest of places. The warm embrace last a while as Tom would shift to get a better hold of you. Nuzzling his head in the crook of you neck as you fiddling with his hair and rubbed soothing circles into his back.

You were the only person Tom could be a hundred percent vulnerable with, besides himself. He complete broke in your arms. A few tears fell down his face as he moved to press soft kisses to your forehead.

“Tom, I love you and we will get through this,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his. “I love you too, darling. I never knew love until I met you,” Tom soothed.

Rosie tried to avoid the family drama as much as possible. She was off in her own little world. Going on supervised dates with Henry around the city of London. Tom required men to be with them at all times. Henry refused it be his dad and Tom needed Haz at the mansion twenty-four seven.

Rosie would try to ditch her security as much as possible. Running from them and tell them she was going to the bathroom when she was going to the alley to make out with Henry.

As she and Henry were coming out a movie. They asked to take the back exit, pretending they were being followed.

“Excuse me miss, but do you mind if we take the employee exit? We think we are being followed by those men over there. Do you see them?” Rosie asked the concessions lady at the theater.

“Not at all. Yes, I see them. Want me to call the police?” She responded.

“No it’s ok. We just need to get home, our car is outside.”

“We lost them. Slow pokes,” Rosie chuckled as they exited to the alley.

“No I don’t feel guilty kissing you in front of them,” Henry muttered breaking away from the kiss.

A black SUV slowly pulled up next to them. It came to screeching halt in front of them and out came two tall, muscular men dressed in all black and one young man, dressed rather dashingly.

“Rosie Holland?” Barked the handsome mystery man.

“Umm… Who’s asking?” Rosie quipped “Someone who really needs to talk to your brother.” “My brother. What did he do know?” Rosie snapped annoyingly. “Oh believe me, something heinous…. Grab her.” Both the men, snuck up behind Rosie and Henry. Knocking them out with a swift knock to the head by the butt of their guns. They stashed Rosie in the backseat and left Henry alone in the alley.

Back at the manor, Tom swallowed his pride and finally approached Parker.

“Hey, Parker. Can I talk to you?” Tom asked. He’d been shutting Parker out this entire time, what would want to make him talk to him.

“Dad, I’m really not in the mood to be yelled at right now. I have made my peace with you, hating me,” Parker explained. “I’m trying to apologize.”

“Oh, sorry. You can continue,” Parker faltered.“I was over reacting, we’ve all

done things we aren’t proud of. I was just mad when I found out you were behind the murders of my men and the helicopter crash. But I realized you couldn’t have known about the crash. You never intended to hurt you mother and I. It’s my fault you went to Wilson,” Tom began. “Actually, I was trying to hurt you,” Parker interjected.

“Well, mission accomplished. Let’s just move on from this,” Tom assured

“Done and done,” Parker said with a tight lipped smile.

“I need a cigar,” Tom said, opening his humidor, pulling out a crisp cuban ,and lightning the end. “Mom, doesn’t like it when you smoke in the house. I specifically remember her saying Tom if you smoke in the house one more god damm time, I’m going to—” Parker mimicked you but was cut off. “Hey. Don’t talk about her like that. We owe our lives to your mother. Okay? What she doesn’t know won’t kill her. Want one?” Tom offered. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’ve kind of always wanted to share your first cigar with you. First time smoking anything.” “Well it’s not my first,” Parker mumbled, hiding his face. “Don’t ruin the moment.” Tom blurted.

“TOOOOMMMMM!!” You called out, busting into his office.

“Y/N? Honey, what’s wrong?” “They can’t find Rosie. Or Henry. Jared lost them. He just called the house to tell me,” you hyperventilated, talking so fast Tom and Parker could barely understand you.

“Woah baby, slow down. Take a few breaths. In and out, ]” Tom whispered trying to calm you down. Rubbing you back to soothe you. “Now, tell me. What happened?”

“Rosie is missing. Jared can’t find her. She and Henry went to the movies and then they got lost for a little and now they can’t find either of them.” You explained, tears prickling at your eyes.

“What? Haz, get in here!” Tom whisper-yelled, trying not to blast out you ear drums. As he was still holding you.

“What’s up? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Haz questioned.

“Rosie and Henry are missing. I’m sorry Haz, but I need you to take the car and go around London looking for them. Take Parker with you. I’m going to stay here with Y/N.”

“Ok,” Haz couldn’t barely manage to speak two words. His son’s life was on the line. “Tom, we have find him. I can’t lose him. He’s all I have left.”

“Haz, we will. I promise,” Tom concluded as Haz left without saying another word.

Haz and Parker immediately got in the car and went to the movie theater, the place Rosie and Henry were last seen.

“Rosie? Henry? Enough games, come out!” Haz screamed, growing more worried by the second.

“I’m going to check behind the theater.” Parker informed Haz. He walked through the emergency exit, the same one Rosie and Henry did 30 minutes ago. He opened the door to find Henry unconscious, lying on the cold concrete.

“Oh my god. Hey, hey, hey. Henry get up. Come on Henry. UNCLE HAZ!” Parker yelled. Henry was knocked out cold. Haz and Parker drove him home but Rosie was still nowhere to be found.

Tom was sitting in the living room, still comforting you. You knew Rosie’s disappearance wasn’t a good sign. Rosie missing was exactly like your kidnapping years before. Mobsters only used you as leverage to get to Tom. They never intended on letting you go, their only agenda being to kill you but Tom had other plans.

You and Tom received a video chat message from an unknown number and decided to answer it. In hopes that it would lead you to Rosie.

“Who the hell are you?” Tom spoke first, alerting the mystery man.

“Oh, how rude. Let me introduce myself. I’m Carter Wilson. As in the son of your dearly departed foe, Angus Wilson.” Carter, Angus Wilson’s son, informed Tom of his demands.

“He’s dead?… What do you want?” Tom barked, trying to dwell on the important parts.

“Someone in your family has done something unspeakable and I’m here to return the favor. Tom Holland, give up your son or face the consequences.”

“He’s not going anywhere.”

“Fine, I see you need a little convincing. Oh, Rosie,” Carter said, snapping his fingers to have one of his goons bring over a battered and bruised Rosie. She had duck taped across her face and red puffy eyes most likely from tears.

“You monster. Let her go. What do you want? Money?” Tom pleaded. The very sight of his daughter in such agony made his heart clench.

“You know what I want, more specifically who. The clock is ticking,” Carter concluded, ending the video without a word more.

“This ain’t a fucking rivalry anymore. This is a war,” Tom muttered, he sure as hell wouldn’t let his daughter’s blood be added to the lives lost.

A/n: Sorry, this is definitely a filler chapter. Even my brother said it was his least favorite chapter.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @dummiesshort @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy @quaksonhehe

[anythingbutmar]

My fucking idiot

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: Five definitely fucked up somehow, thanks to that you were alone for a long time until you found Diego again, and now you had to go save his ass.

A/N: This was so fun to write! I genuinely loved this concept so so much so thanks anon!

Warnings: cursing, mentions of stalking, slight spiciness towards the end.

“What a fucking idiot.” You laughed as your coworker read a newspaper story about some guy that ended up in a mental hospital and had tried to break out several times. “So why did they take him in anyways?”

“Oh, he was rambling to everyone on the street about the president getting killed or something.” You instantly lifted your head from the cereal boxes you were holding. Could it be? You had landed alone and you didn’t know where the others were, but the only ones who knew JFK would die were those who came from the future, meaning Diego, his siblings, and you.

A wave of excitement came over your body as you thought about seeing a familiar face. “Can I see that?” He handed the newspaper and you almost dropped it. There he was, his hair and beard way longer than what you remembered but it was still him, the love of your life was staring back at you with that murderous look of his, and you knew exactly where to find him.

You took your apron off and ran out of the store. “Y/N what’s wrong?!” Your coworker screamed at you.

“That’s my fucking idiot!” You yelled back with tears streaming down your face.

You hadn’t expected to see him any time soon, in fact you thought you would never see him again but how could you not know the moment you heard that? Who else would try to stop the president from getting killed? Certainly not Klaus or Vanya.

You smiled to yourself at the thought of finding everyone, you missed them all, but the first stop was your boyfriend.

You had met Diego during one of his vigilante nights. You worked as a waitress at a bar which was pretty cool actually, you often had to endure catcalls but the payment was enough for your needs.

There was a problem though, your neighborhood was terribly dangerous, especially at the end of your shift, so that one night you were headed for your apartment, bag clutched under your arm when you noticed someone was following you. You started walking faster until you thought you lost them, but when you looked back there was a man pinned to the wall with some knives and another one punching him in the face. He ended up walking you home, and started doing so every night until one time he asked you out and you couldn’t say no, you fell for him the moment you saw him standing there with his funny looking suit and his angry eyes.

And of course, his ability with knives was quite... appealing, to say the least.

And so, after living together for a while he asked you to come with him to his dad’s funeral, which ended on you trying to stop the apocalypse with no special gifts or powers, which in turn ended up with you landing on an alley in 1962, completely alone.

As you stood by the doors of the asylum you thought of how much you’d love to have Allison’s rumor sometimes, at least with that you wouldn’t have to convince any guards of letting you in.

Or maybe you could use a different strategy...

You smiled mischievously as a young nervous nurse passed by your side, a rookie. “Perfect” you thought to yourself.

“Hey could you help me? I think I’m lost.” You gave her your most innocent look right before punching her on the jaw, just like Diego had taught you to.

You dragged her to an empty alley and stared at her angelic face, poor naïve little thing. You stripped, switching clothes with her and hiding her behind an old mattress before walking towards the hospital again, this time with a lot more confidence and an ID on your hand.

Doris it read. “Wish me luck, Doris.” You whispered to it as you were about to reach the gate. You might not have been Allison but you were a great liar, you just hoped that was enough to get you to your boyfriend.

Except, no one was there, there were no guards around and a loud siren started sounding along with gunshots. Gunshots? Shit. You started climbing the gates with the useless, uncomfortable nurse uniform, ripping the skirt and staining it with rust from the aged cold metal you were climbing.

You sighed when you reached the top worriedly looking at the silhouettes of some men with big ass shotguns. “No!” You screamed as you fell from the scare of more gunshots. Thankfully, you fell on top of mud, which stained you whole but prevented you from breaking your spine. You stood quickly and started running to where you saw the men in the windows because you just fucking knew if you found trouble, you would find Diego.

And you were right.

You had no idea of where you were, you had just ran underground behind some armed guards, but when you were finally able to catch up with them, they were gone, and instead you found him.

“Diego?” He turned around instantly at the sound of your voice, and ran towards you with tears in his eyes as soon as he saw you. You jumped on him and hugged him like never before, not giving three fucks about your makeup staining his white shirt or your skirt lifting over your butt.

“What are you doing here?” He exclaimed, not letting go of your form.

“I’m saving you, you dumbass!” You laughed as he set you down and placed his hands on your cheeks, as if he wanted to check if you were real.

“I hate to ruin this but we still have to run if we wish to live.” Said a girl with a british accent that you hadn’t noticed before.

“Who are you?” You asked as you took Diego’s hand and started following her.

“I’m Lila, and I believe you’re famous Y/N.” She gave you a wide smile that scared you a bit, you’d ask Diego about the fact that you were seemingly breaking out a crazy lady from the sanatory when you were alone.

After running for quite a while, Lila stole a car for you which finally gave you some space to talk things through.

“So how’d you find me?” He asked with genuine curiosity, the poor thing had no idea.

“Your face is on every newspaper baby, they’re calling you a cuban exile with hallucinations.”

“Cuban?” He seemed more offended by the nationality change than the other accusations, which you found a bit silly, if you were being honest.

“How long were you in there?” You worriedly ran your hands through his now shoulder length hair.

“A month or so, he caused quite some chaos, you know? That’s a wild one you got there girl.” Lila answered for him making you laugh, you were starting to take a liking to the strange woman.

“You look so damn hot on that uniform.” He mouthed to you so Lila wouldn’t notice his dirty talk.

“Wait till you see what’s underneath.” You mouthed back winking at him and smiling as he raised his eyebrows.

You took his hand and rubbed circles on it, knowing everything would be fine now that you were together.

[jonspurpleskirt]

An Unlikely Befriending

Summary: Jon gets kidnapped. Jon gets bored. And Jon makes very unlikely friends because of it. Aka: Pen and Paper saves the day (world) and Jon finally gets to have a band. A/N: This is pure fluff, no warnings apply I think. ___

The worst thing about being kidnapped by a crazy mannequin murder clown monstrousity and sitting in a cold, room with creepy wax works, tied to a chair was not the ever present terror. True the fear of Nikola finally deeming his skin good enough and skinning him alive was quite potent, but it wasn't as bad as boredom.

Jon had never taken well to waiting. His mind needed to be occupied 24/7, needed something to latch onto, to obsess about. It's why he became a researcher in the first place. Having most of his freedom taken from him made occupying himself very hard.

At least they still let him eat and drink here and there. Nikola always visited personally, her overly cheery voice bubbling forth as she chattered away while slathering him with lotion or shoving bits of take out food in his mouth. His diet those last two weeks had been very varied and healthy and he had never drank so much water before.

He still probably looked a mess, what with no access to a shower and barely being able to sleep at all. And the constant terror. Oh yeah and the boredom.

Oh the boredom.

Jon was currently sitting in his chair as he was wont to do. Thankfully not nailed down despite all the nagging from Sarah Baldwin. The coffin was singing or moaning with a slight melody behind it, depending on who you asked. And somehow Jon found himself humming along, trying to find a good melody to go with the haunting tune. It wasn't like he had anything better to do and if he didn't start doing something creative his mind would start eating itself soon.

So he hummed, experimenting with the notes, twisting them into something that was reminiscent of circus music and airships. And then he kept humming the melody over and over, forming words in his mind to go with the tune. Once the spark was lit a fire started to burn, the story branching out and out into a twirling mass of chaos and fire.

He had gotten lost in his imagination, hadn't noticed how loud he had become, hadn't heard Nikola approach. Jon screeched when she leant down over him and grinned at him upside down, nose nearly touching his.

Nikola had the gall to laugh at him, no breath fanning over his face as she did so.

"Awww Archivist! I didn't know you had such a nice voice!"

"Hrmph."

"Yes your singing was also quite good!" She straightened herself, back cracking in several places. Striding around his chair she towered over him, tattered, bloody ringmaster uniform filling his field of vision.

"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to sing, of course! And the broken repeat is lovely."

"Hm."

"Anyway water time!"

With gleeful cackling she ripped the tape from his mouth, amused enough to not immediately shove the bottle between his teeth.

"There are words to it, too." Jon rushed to say, not exactly sure why. What was he offering her here? A solo performance?

"Oh?" she at least didn't tape his mouth shut again. For now.

After waiting several beats where both stared at each other and nothing else happened Jon dared to speak up again.

"I ah... well I wrote it myself? Not wrote, of course. My hands are tied at the moment-" He was rambling. Nikola had given him the freedom of speech and he was off like a shot, telling her everything about what he had been thinking about before she had interrupted his impromptu jamming session, terror completely terminating his brain to mouth filter.

Nikola, for her part, took it all in stride. She even settled on the floor in front of him, blinking every now and then to indicate that she was still present.

"It's such a shame." she finally spoke, holding the water bottle to his mouth, letting him drink of his own volution for once. "You would have made a perfect piece for the choir. Hm maybe what will be left of you will do."

"I could sing for you now." Jon offered as soon as his mouth was free again.

Nikola startled at the offer and Jon just shrugged as much as he was able to. He'd rather sing to a creepy murder doll than spend one minute longer alone and bored out of his mind. And if he could delay the Unknowing (and the violent removal of his skin) by keeping Nikola entertained than even better.

That sounded like he almost had a plan. Which was untrue. He only had a very strong desire for entertainment.

"No sneaky questions." Nikola warned.

"Promise. I can't guarantee good quality rhymes, though. I'm still workshopping."

Singing out loud what had been in his head was always an awkward affair. He had wanted to start a band with Georgie in uni. But it was exactly because of this that he had never bothered.

"That was fun!" Nikola screamed after he was finished nontheless. Clapping her hands in delight, which created a horrible cracking noise.

"I'm glad? I also DM."

She tilted her head at him. "What's that?"

Jon explained the concept of pen and paper games to her while she rubbed lotion into his skin and had her hooked immediately.

Later that day (or maybe the next day, really Jon had no concept of time anymore) Jon was for the first time allowed out of his chair, carefully rubbing circulation back into his hands. Nikola had only briefly left him alone after watering and lotioning him. They had hashed out what kind of world and system they wanted to use (a horror setting, of course) and then Nikola was off and dragging Breekon and Hope back into the room so they had enough people to play.

Either Breekon or Hope sat down behind Jon, large hands lightly clasping his arms, squeezing every once in a while to remind him that should he try and escape he would only end up in pain.

Jon shifted awkwardly in the grip, unused to gentleness even if it was supposed to be threatening.

"Alright. First, character creation. Who do you guys want to play?"

It became a daily thing. The three beings in his group quickly became addicted to his story telling and to the characters they were allowed to play. Nikola tore through characters, trying on different personalities like pieces of clothing. She had a beautiful eery singing voice, Jon was surprised to find out when she had decided to play a member of a steampunk band.

Breekon and Hope were less manic, too attached to their twins to play anyone else. They changed voices and accents every session, though. Jon deigned to ignore their shenanigans, scared to make them angry. He hadn't had this much fun in ages, he didn't want to loose that.

The two delivery men took turns holding him down while they played, Hope holding onto his arms and Breekon using him like a child would a Teddy bear.

Eventually the three lingered after their sessions had ended, the ropes that tied him to his chair less tight. Jon tried to keep the conversations casual, to not ask all the questions that burned at the tip of his tongue. He found that he didn't need to. Tongue loose from goofing around Nikola was often chatty, Breekon and Hope throwing in their two cents every once in a while.

Eventually the topic about Tims younger brother came up.

"Danny Stoker? Grimauldi skinned him? Hm..." Nikolas head nearly dislodged as she stared at the ceiling in thought. "Noooo." She giggled. "We didn't skin anyone that night, silly! We were scoping out locations for the dance! Danny's little group stumbled into us and got a little confused~"

"But Tim saw Grimauldi rip Dannys skin off of a puppet."

Nikola shrugged. "An illusion. We're good at making you people see things that aren't really there. Yet."

"So Danny is alive?"

"I believe so!~ If he didn't die in a ditch somewhere."

Jon was very careful to keep his voice as soft as possible with the next question. "Could you find him again and bring him to the Institute? To Tim and... I don't know... maybe that's a stupid idea given that he can't be sure it's really him..."

"If I track him down do I get inspiration for my character next session?"

"That's cheating." Breekon complained under his breath behind Jon.

"I... yes?"

Nikola grinned. "Wonderful! I see what I can do!"

Days went by like that, Nikola or Breekon or Hope updating him on Dannys search, which had turned out to be harder than they had thought. Well at least Jon was keeping them busy.

They were in the middle of racing a burning train into the central bank of London when a door creaked behind Jon, bathing the room in technicolour and spiral shapes.

"That is not what I thought I'd find here." A voice that wavered between confused and gleeful mused.

Jon twisted in the grip Breekon had on him. "Hello Michael."

"Hello Archivist. You've found yourself in an interesting situation." The grin Michael shot him was a knife glinting in the light before striking.

"Yes. Why are you here?"

Nikola had let him practice after Jon had explained his lack of training, much more lax with her hostage now that he fed her fascinating stories of blood and gore. So there was no trace of compulsion in his voice when he asked the question.

Michael answered truthfully anyway. "I came to kill you of course!"

"I have dips on that!" Nikola said, voice pleasant and grin feral.

"I'm sorry about that. Would you like to join the game instead?"

Michael stared at him as though he had grown mad. Impressed, curious and lightly terrified. Then it laughed that horrible, headache inducing laugh.

"There's a lot of lies and delusion." Jon coaxed, heart beating out of his chest with nerves.

"He's a good storyteller." Hope added, Nikola and Breekon nodding along.

"Hm alright. I guess I can play for a bit."

It didn't stay just for a bit. Michael stayed through the finale of the story and then demanded to start another, their little ragtag group of definitely not heroes causing more chaos than any other player group Jon had ever DMed before. And that was saying something. Hours upon hours passed, Michael disappearing and reappearing to get Jon coffee and tea to keep his voice from giving out.

In the middle of it all Michael began twitching and twisting, glitching in and out of sight before slumping to the ground with a groan, form for once near comprehensible. Another door opened and out walked Helen looking down at the Distortion in disappointment.

"Oh that didn't destroy you. Shame."

"Helen?"

"Hello Jon! I was coming to rescue you given that Michael got a little distracted. Do you want to come to the archives with me?"

Honestly Jon should have been shocked, probably angry. He was definitely sad. And yet the most he felt was just an overwhelming sense of whelp.

Jon vaguely gestured towards Nikola, as much as Breekons hold allowed him to. "Ask her."

"We're not done yet."

"Later then?"

Nikola considered Jon for a long moment, both staring unblinking at each other. "Give us an hour."

To Jons great surprise Helen just nodded and delicately sat on the chair Jon usually frequented in his "freetime" all prim and proper except for the long sharp fingers curling at the edges like corkscrews.

"Now where were we?"

Michael groaned from the floor for once not smiling. Jon felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

"Are you alright?"

"Been better. Been worse. Let's burn this village down!"

There was no end to the tale they had been playing, not with just one session of playtime. Jon felt a bit bad about that, especially because he had left it at a cliffhanger. No one seemed to be angry at him for it, though. Michael had recovered fast and was again his usual ominous cheery, albeit lightly aggressive self. He poked and prodded at Helen like a curious cat while Nikola massaged lotion into Jons skin for the last time and handed him several expensive looking bottles, rattling down a step by step skin care routine he was to follow to the t or else she would break into his house and do it herself.

Hope patted him on the head. "See you around, Archivist."

"You're really letting me go? Just like that?" Jon still couldn't believe it.

Nikola shrugged. "I found another option. And I'd like to keep doing this after the Unknowing."

"Will that be even possible?"

The grin he got from was not at all reassuring. "I don't know~"

Well that was probably the best he would get from her. Jon gave a hesitant tiny wave and, flanked by both Michael and Helen stepped through their door.

Back at the archive no one had even questioned his disappearance. A fact that made Michael and Helen laugh, even though they both refused to leave as Tim, Melanie and Basira questioned him about his whereabouts.

Martin was the only one who took Jons forced vacation in stride. Maybe he even was a little too happy about a group of mannequins harassing him to take better care of himself.

"You're not compromised now, are you?" Basira asked when Jon had settled back into his office after a long shower.

"No? Because I still don't want the world to end?"

"Good."

Somehow Jon knew that she would still keep an eye on him from now on.

~~~

When the day came to blow up the ritual site Jon hadn't slept a wink in three nights and was overcome by guilt. Despite how aweful his initial time at the circus had been and despite him knowing what horrible things Nikola and her kin did in their freetime, Jon still felt bad about probably killing her.

He tried to rationalize his feelings away, connecting his rising anxiety with the fact that Danny still hadn't been found. It was a flimsy denial.

Tim stayed by his side the whole time, resolute in his burning desire for vengeance. Jon was scared that he would loose him to this, too. Had confessed as much to Michael and Helen, who had taken to keeping at least one door manifested somewhere in the tunnels at all times. The two had started to get along well after some initial disagreement. The Spiral, split as it was between the two of them, was weaker in its influence now, leaving more of Michael Shelley and Helen Richardson to make decisions.

They weren't here now. Daisy, Basira and Tim were, setting up explosives and arguing about rescuing people that were already long dead.

And then Nikola appeared and the dance started and nothing made sense anymore.

Jon woke up six months later, Georgie calling him a monster and Basira giving him a statement to "eat" catching him up on everything he had missed. Tim had miraculously survived, having been dragged through a door by either Helen or Michael. Daisy and Basira had encountered Breekon and Hope, who had argued about what they should do with "Jons feral friends" and in the end had led them savely out of the building before it could go boom, muttering about possible inspiration points.

The only one who hadn't been saved was Jon. He tried not to feel too hurt about that.

Coming back to work was as anti climatic as it had been after the kidnapping. The only one who seemed happy to see him was Martin. He had apologized profusely for the hug and promptly stopped doing so when Jon dashed forward and back into Martins warm embrace, finally breaking down.

He had been too caught up in his crying to make a note of the little kiss Martin pressed into his hair.

They all were a little lost after averting the apocalypse, normal everyday life eluding them. Elias might have been out of the picture for the moment, but Peter Lukas had taken over and fighting against the isolation was taking its toll on everyone.

They were all huddled in the breakroom, faces grim and stewing in silence so as to not break into an arguement when they got their delivery.

Breekon and Hope stepped into the small space with their usual nonchalance dragging a scared young man between them, who had a lot of resemblance to Tim.

"Delivery for Jonathan Sims. Nikola says hi."

Tim was the first one up. "No... No no nononononono that can't be. He's dead. Jon. Jon tell me is that really him?!"

Jon looked at the scared man, who had his gaze locked on Tim, recognition slowly dawning on his face. He Looked and he Knew.

"Yes. No one was killed the night Danny disappeared. His group encountered Nikola and her troupe during a rehearsal, got confused and then lost. And was lost ever since. Nikola told me of this. She promised to find him for me, for you."

That was all Tim needed to rush forward, catching his brother in his arms and hugging him close. "Danny!"

Danny clung back just as tightly, awareness barely back. Still obviously shaken and confused.

Jon smiled at the two delivery men. "Thank you. Will he... will he be alright."

Hope shrugged. "Dunno. Nikola said to make him remember bit by bit. Been not Danny for a long time. Might need to get used to it again."

"We'll take it slow." Tim promised, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Good luck. Hey Archivist, do we get inspiration, too?"

Jon laughed, incredulous. The others in the room watched the exchange with varying degress of exasperation and outrage.

"You know what? Yes. Yes you have. And I'll give you all advantage on your rolls next session. Only that one session, though! Same for Nikola. How is she, by the way?"

Breekon made a so-so sign. "Restless. We've waited over six months to find out what happens after  that cliffhanger you gave us."

"Right." He still couldn't believe it. "Tonight 8 o'clock, my flat?"

Twin grins, the most excited he had ever seen them. "See you then, Archivist."

Tim was still gently hushing his brother, rocking back and forth on his feet to try and calm him down a little. And he still had tears streaming down his face, looking like an absolute wreck. But he still managed to join the unimpressed stares that were thrown his way by everyone but Martin, who at this point had just started to roll with the punches.

"You really befriended the clown club and made them rescue literally all of us?" Basira asked in a deadpan voice.

"I kind of feel cheap now." Daisy muttered. "As though those clowns let us win."

"Look, what can I say? Pen and Paper games are fun. I can't blame them. And Nikola did want to start a band."

"Oh my god." Melanie groaned, her head thunking onto the table. "I can't believe it."

"A band?" Basira asked, suddenly much more alert. They really had gotten quite desensitized to the whole monster thing, hadn't they? "What, you can sing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But really. Shouldn't we... I mean shouldn't we focus on Danny? There's a cot-"

"I know." Tim interrupted. "We all know there's a cot. I'll take him home, you keep talking about your weird band plans. Monster boss? We talk later, but... thank you."

Silence reigned long enough to follow Tim out of the Institute before Martin piped up, cheeks reddening before he had even opened his mouth. "Could we... Could we have a taste?"

"A taste? Of what? My voice?"

"Hold up, if Sims is going to sing I'll have to record it." Melanie tapped on her phone and held it into the room as one would do a microphone. "Alright go."

Jon sighed, what he didn't do to keep up the group morale.

"Aww shit." Was Basiras conclusion when he was done. "What kind of music were you thinking of playing?"

"Steampunk."

"Count me in."

~~~

Today had been weird, Jon thought, mind reeling from the whiplash of... kindness? That had happened after the delivery of one Danny Stoker. Granted the last month, no

year

had been weird. But this had topped it all. At least it had been a nice weird.

Jon had nearly forgotten about his appointment with a certain group of Strangers when he got back to his flat, overworked, hungry and still processing. So he should be forgiven for the scream he let out when he saw three large figures huddling on his too small couch.

"You haven't been taking care of your skin at all!"

There was no time to duck away from the cold, hard hands that fluttered all over his body. Nikola squished his cheeks like a proper grandmother, clearly unhappy about their elasticity.

"I was in a coma for six months."

"And awake for a few weeks now." A cheerful male voice said from behind him, bringing the smell of pizza with it.

"We were there he didn't take care of himself at all!" Helen added, putting down several cans of soda and what looked to be instant coffee.

"You're horrible!" Nikola wailed, manhandling him until he was squished between Breekon and Hope. "All my beautiful work! Ruined!"

"Uh... sorry?"

"You can make it up to us with weekly sessions." Michael suggested with a grin.

"Both on Saturday and Sunday!" Helen added.

"I actually planned for Sunday to be band day." Jon lied. "Basira wants to join, by the way."

They were all settled around the small coffee table now, food and drink on the floor so they had enough place to roll their dice.

"Wonderful! What did you think we'd name it?"

Jon tilted his head given the illusion of thinking it over even though he had known what to name his band since highschool.

"The Mechanisms."

[thefanficmonster]

Kick Some Ghost Ass

”Until Dawn Gang x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Sex jokes (excuse my bad humor)

Genre: CRACK, Humor

Summary: It’s one thing when trouble finds this gang, but why don’t we take a look at what happens when they go actively looking for trouble. Needless to say, chaos ensues and no one is spared. Some are more affected than others, and some are dead-ass traumatized, but isn’t that just how life is in general?

Requested by my dearest ever - Until Dawn Anon. Hi lovely! I’ve missed writing your requests and I’m really happy to be back, creating another chaotic fic! I’m sorry it has taken me so long to post it but here it finally is - crazy as ever! I hope you enjoy it! Love you to Blackwood Pines and back baby ❤❤❤

I don’t know how I’ve found myself in this situation but I’m not complaining. If I get to do dumb crazy shenanigans with my crew, I’m ready for just about anything. Not to mention I’m no stranger to ghost hunting. I’m that kid that made DIY Ouija boards and took them to cemeteries with their terrified friends. You should’ve seen us leaving after capturing no ghostly activity - my friends relieved as fuck, and me pissed as fuck.

But today, I’m not expecting nor will I be accepting any disappointment. Especially not with Jess swearing on her Chanel purse that she wasn’t making things up when she said she had a haunted house she wanted us to visit. I must say, I appreciate this group’s enthusiasm when it comes to the paranormal. Never have I had someone who catches my vibe on the subject so well, let alone an entire gang all sharing the same opinion as me - that ghosts, demons and poltergeists are so fucking cool. Sure, Emily took a bit of convincing and Jess is not one to give a shit about the other world creatures invisible to the human eye, but something allegedly happened that changed her mind.

Her a-hundred-and-something-year-old great-grandmother passed away recently and though the death itself didn’t shake Jess up as much as it probably should’ve, the events that followed led to this moment right now - the eleven of us pooling out of two minivans that have pulled up to a terrifying looking house in a wooded are of the suburbs. Jess literally gathered us all on an ‘emergency meeting’ in the courtyard of our college just so she could explain the situation in detail - she doesn’t do well with explaining things in general, let alone when she’s hysterical - so we only understood what she was trying to say when she mentioned the word ‘ghost’. That’s when we all started listening more closely, with the exception of Emily, Beth and Sam but the latter two were intrigued despite trying yo hide it. You can only imagine how excited Josh, Chris and I were, Mike and Matt following a close second behind. Ash was a tiny bit more hesitant but Chris convinced her to give in. And just like that, a week later, here we are.

“I gotta ask, did your great-gran own a VHS player? Or a chest in the attic? Bonus points if there’s a creepy, child-sized doll in there.“ Josh asks as he yanks all the equipment he insisted we bring out of the trunk of the minivan.

“Quit fucking around, Josh! This is serious!“ Jess complains from the spot she’s standing in, shivering in the cold autumn breeze.

“Yeah, Josh! VHS players, creepy dolls, that’s all child’s play.“ I scold him as I pull on my jacket, wrapping it around me more tightly, “Shit gets serious when there’s a secret basement.“

“Y/N!“ Jess shrieks in exasperation. Honesty, how am I supposed to NOT bother her when doing the opposite is so much easier and brings more amusement? “You’re not helping!“

“Wasn’t trying to.“ I wink at her, driving her into a new level of fury that almost leads her to chuck her phone at me. If it weren’t such a prized possession of hers, I’m pretty sure she would’ve chucked it with the intention of knocking me dead. I’m lucky she has the aim of a drunk toddler that spun around fifteen times.

“Hey, quit pissing my girlfriend off, will ya?!“ Mike, who is basically halfway inside the trunk of the other van calls out to us.

I roll my eyes but choose to let it slide. However, someone else doesn’t. Emily does a dramatic turn on her heel, turning to face Mike, or at least the only part of him which is visible. You can imagine how hard it is arguing with an ass like THAT. I don’t know how Emily does it but oh well, I guess I do it too, in a way.

“So it’s girlfriend now, huh? No space between the words?“ Oh that smile she’s flashing him, it could make the Devil himself shiver. I find it kinda hot though - it means shit’s about to go down or hit the fan, either way, the rest of us will be entertained.

Mikey boy straightens up, gracing the rest of us by-standers with his dazzling features. Nah, I’m capping. I honestly think Mike is as attractive as I am patient - very little, almost not at all. It’s surprising how him and Jess are now apparently together since I always pegged her to be the superficial type.

“Got a problem with that, Em?“ He asks, eyebrow raising, head tilting to the side. Oh yeah, it’s on now. But, as someone who’s been quite excited to do some ghost hunting, and also as a representative of the peanut gallery formed of the rest of us who find it amusing and annoying, I feel the need to cut it short before it goes where it shouldn’t. I came to see some exorcist shit, not Keeping Up With The Bitter Exs.

“Jess, I sure hope your grandma is a blood-thirsty ghost cause I can think of at least two people I’d serve to her on a silver platter.“ I snatch the keys the blond has been jingling nervously between her fingers and jog up the stairs to the front door.

Ok I maybe overexaggerated the eeriness of the house. It sure wouldn’t sit right with you if you saw it around sunset or at night, especially not if it’s foggy, but a horror movie house it is most certainly isn’t. It’s pristine and well kept, not a single crack in the walls, the only reason it’s unsettling is because: 1) We’ve all seen a few too many horror movies; 2) There’s been reports of ‘ghostly activity’ - as far as Jess is to be trusted.

While I’m surfing through all the keys, checking each and every single one of them on the door because the real key is unmarked, I can’t help but overhear the conversation going on behind me on the porch.

“Can you believe we got all this in a single day and for a discount on top of all?! Whoever says Craigslist sucks isn’t doing it right.“ Chris’ enthusiasm over the deal him and Josh got on the ghost hunting equipment has been what’s keeping a wide grin on his face this whole time. Though I’m proud of my boys for not getting murdered by the Craigslist seller, I must say I hate that I lost the bet we had - I had to pay them each ten bucks if they didn’t get scammed/kidnapped/murdered and I’m now twenty bucks poorer. I’m not saying I value those twenty bucks more than my friends, though my broke ass needs all the bucks it has and all the dollar bills it could get, but Lord knows I hate losing.

“Yeah, and the guy was only mildly sketchy.“ Josh adds just as excitedly and proudly, “To be honest, Cochise and I were probably the scary looking ones in that parking lot.“

A look over my shoulder shows the twins, Sam, Matt and Ash giving the duo skeptical and somewhat disappointing looks and shakes of their heads. I’ll admit, the equipment is in very good condition and it’s the complete set for ghost-hunting, according to BuzzFeed at least. I’m impressed with the purchase - probably had something to do with how scary Chris and Josh actually look. The all-nighters we’ve all been pulling lately have taken a toll on them worst with the dark circles and bags under their hollow eyes, pale faces and brains turned to mush. I know I’d give them a discount to avoid them pulling out meat cleavers on me.

“That’s all fine and dandy guys, but do you know how to work any of this?“ Sam asks, hesitantly lifting the EMF reader and turning it in her hand, analyzing it with a curious gaze. 

Josh and Chris exchange a look before the former replies, “Just the cameras and voice recorder, the rest falls on them.” He points a finger at me and laughs, “Though they aren’t able to work something as simple as keys, they are more than qualified to be a ghostbuster.”

“You know, Josh, jokes on you, I can work keys! Jess, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be able to work well with organizing things, hence my problem with these keys.“ I hurl the bunch of keys connected my a scarlet keychain at Josh, “Lemme demonstrate my true skills.“ I hop down the flight of stone stairs and approach the pile of equipment the guys have created smack-dab in the middle of the house’s driveway. 

“Oh, I gotta see this!” Mr. Ex-Class-President all but runs over, frowning when we all turn to look at him just as I pick up the spirit box to show off how it works, “Oh that’s what you meant. So you aren’t taking your clothes off?“

Jess and I are alike in one thing - the need we feel to chuck objects at people who piss us off. “You’re girlfriend is, like, right behind you, Munroe. Have some decency!”

“I was gonna enjoy a show as well, but I’m guessing we won’t be getting one.“ The girlfriend in question replies, looking at me quizzically as though that’s gonna convince me into discarding my outfit.

“No, unless you’re a ghost.“ I point the device I’m holding at Mike, “But if your boyfriend here keeps acting up I might turn him into one.“

“That sounds kinda kinky.“ Beth’s comment surprises me. The wink she sends me even more so. “And I kinda like it.“

Ok, ok, ok, hold on. 

Flirting with Munroe is one thing, but Beth is a completely different story. I can be threatening Mike with a knife one moment and cracking sex jokes with him over cold beer the next. While Beth actually has the ability to get me flustered and blushing, and my close relationship with her brother doesn’t help. Mother fucker can just whack me upside the head every time he catches me fussing over my silly crush on his sister.

“Ew, you too! Keep it in your pants or at least get a room.“ Emily doesn’t miss a beat when it comes to being herself. She’s truly a garbage bin full of treasure.

“We’d do the latter if SOMEONE could get the door open.” I glare daggers at Josh who is making hopeless attempts at what I was doing earlier - unlocking that damn door.

“I’d be more than happy to come through for you ladies.“ Mike says, getting in a stance of a runner before a race, his body directly opposite the door.

Oh I can’t wait to see where this is going. I SHOULD RECORD IT.

“Mike, it’s still breaking and entering and it’s still against the law even if the person’s dead.“ Sam points out, entering her mother-like mode, ruining the fun and causing me to pout at her. She gives me a look of disappointment - one worse than I’ve ever seen on my parents - so I just shut my trap before she can also express said disappointment through words and have me feeling guilty for the rest of the day.

A loud crash suddenly echoes causing us to turn our heads to look for the source of the terrifyingly startling sound. One glance is all it takes to put our minds at ease and a second one is enough to provoke different reactions in all of us - the broken window telling the story of where Josh has disappeared.

“What did I just say about breaking and entering?!“ Sam shouts after him while the vast majority of us are cracking up like hyaenas. Jess is just gaping at the broken window next to the front door in disbelief. She obviously can’t decide whether to join in on the fun or serve as back-up to Sam. Josh did technically damage private property that’s partially hers, but if you ask me it serves her right for not marking her keys.

“Sorry, I was too busy breaking the window to hear that part of the conversation!“ Josh’s apologetic smile appears on the other side of glassless frame. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely sorry or holding back laughter but either way, he looks innocent enough for Sam to let him off the hook as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble - in which case: tough luck. Chris, Josh and I are nothing if not troublemakers, especially when we’re together. Chris tones it down when Ash’s around, and the same goes for Josh with Sam while I’m simply problematic regardless of who’s watching. My chaos is untamable, it’s a blessing and a curse and I love it, even though it’s landed me in hot water more than once. It’s nice to be around people on the same wavelength - chaos resides within this group and not a single one of us can hide it.

“At least we have a way in now.“ Ash offers Josh a helping hand in this argument after she recovers from the overwhelming fit of laughter. “I hope the broken window doesn’t anger your gran, Jess.“

The blond snaps out of her trance briefly, “No, she was a very sweet lady, but damn is Josh creative!” She hurries to correct herself, “Destructively creative.”

I hurry to correct her once again, “Chaotically creative.”

“Guys, do you mind coming in? It’s very creepy standing here alone!“ Josh calls out to us, looking over his shoulder at the interior of the house, “I’m expecting to be snatched and dragged to that secret basement we mentioned.“

“Mention it one more time and I swear to God-!“ Jess screams, fists tightened.

Before her angry wrath could crash atop us, we all make our way into the house through the broken window, carefully avoiding the shards of glass strewn about. One step inside and we’re met with the upmost of horror clichés - a drop in temperature. We’re all wearing thick hoodies because the weather outside is chilly in and of itself, but said hoodies aren’t as efficient at holding the house’s cold at bay and away from out skin.

Chris and Matt make their way in last, carrying the equipment consisting of three cameras, flashlights for everyone, an EMF reader, a spirit voice box, a voice recorder and a motion detector. I help them hand a light to each group member as well as a ghost-hunting device before we venture onward.

“If I were your grandma’s ghost, I’d be ten times more pissed about that window. It looks to me like that lady payed a lot of attention to keeping things in order.“ Matt comments while he examines the expensive looking painting hanging in the hallway.

I hear Emily scoff, “Unlike some.” but the remark is said so quickly and quietly I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who heard it.

Jess laughs, “She did like things in order, but she was never as strict as you might think. As I said, she was very sweet.“

“So do you just not take after her at all or were you adopted?“ Emily’s remarks are no longer a mumbled jumble of words, “No, nevermind, of course you’re not adopted. Your parents are smart people, they wouldn’t have chosen you if they had the chance.“

Jess laughs again, much more menacingly this time, causing me to exchange a look with Hannah who’s walking beside me. “Twenty bucks says one of them isn’t making it out of here.” It’s just a matter of time, to be honest. If not the lodge, or any party we’ve ever attended as a group, this haunted house is the perfect opportunity for a murder. We could even argue it was a ghost.

Luckily, the two cats clawing at each other’s throats don’t overhear, “No, my parents aren’t stupid, but your boyfriend clearly is. He chooses to date you! Or are you holding him captive or something.“

Ok that’s enough. I can tolerate a lot of things, but people calling one of my best friends stupid is not something I’m about to put up with, “How dare you call one of my hoes stupid?” I sneer at Jess, eyes narrowing.

“I thought I was your hoe too!“ She fights back, looking almost offended.

“Even more reason you shouldn’t have called him that! I don’t tolerate my hoes not respecting each other.“ 

I don’t get to see where this argument goes because Ashley’s shriek echoes throughout the hallway, stealing mine as well as the attention of everyone else. 

“There’s a ghost in here!“ Making it to the doorway of the room she’s in first, I peak my head inside and see the EMF reader she’s holding going nuts as if it’s detected something.

“Don’t worry, Ash, there’s a dead cactus here. That’s not the ghost we’re looking for, is it?“ Chris, my amazingly bright friend says, quirking an eyebrow suggesting that remark was nothing short of dead-ass serious.

“Chris, darling, that’s not how it works. Cactuses are plants.“ I point out as sweetly as I can as to mask my laughter.

“Don’t the same ghostly rules apply?“ The genuine look of confusion he gives me almost makes me lose it.

“Ok children, leave the room, we need to set up a motion detector to be sure.“ Beth says with a tone that suggests she’s more than over our insanity. Jeez, count on her and Sam to start parenting us through our chaos. They are of high authority, must admit - one genuinely feels bad if they don’t comply to whatever these two girls demand.

We all pile out in the hallway while the twins set up this interesting motion detector with green dots. I don’t know what Jess’ granny looked like, but I bet that even the most unattractive of people would look hella good with this lighting. Thankfully the room is dark enough with the shutters closed and the curtains drawn, allowing the dots to be perfectly visible.

We stare at the minimalistic room littered with fluorescent green dots on every surface for maybe a minute or two but not much happens to the disappointment to some and relief to others. However, as if not wanting to let us down, the ghost makes a shy appearance if the shift of the green dots is anything to go by.

“Oh shit, is that a ghost?“ Chris whispers, sounding as amazed as I feel in this moment.

“It better be.“ I mutter in response, refusing to blink and risk missing anything important.

The sudden presence of the obnoxious noise of the spirit voice box makes us all jump. As I turn my head to glare at whoever’s using it, Josh speaks up. “Are you an attractive ghost?”

“Josh, that’s my great-grandmother, you ass!“ Jess barks with disgust in her voice.

In the meantime, I catch glimpse of Mike rolling up his sleeves. Oh shit, this ain’t good.

“I’ve been waiting for this!“ He shouts victoriously, cracking his knuckles.

Knowing this won’t end well, the first thing I do is snatch the camera from Chris’ hands and turn it on.

“Um, Mike, what do you mean?“ Sam’s back to being concerned, turning to the rest of us when Mike doesn’t give her a response, “What’s he gonna do?“

“Fight it.“ I answer as though it’s the most normal thing to ever have been done, “Or, ash he calls it - kick some ghost ass.“

“A freaking ghost?! He’s gonna try to tussle with something he can’t see?“ I can’t tell if Matt’s tone is disbelief, amusement or disappointment, but I believe he isn’t about to try and stop or dear ex-president in his pursuit and that’s all that matters. I ain’t about to let someone stop whatever’s about to go down from going down.

“That’s still my great-grandmother, you dumbass!“ Jess shrieks with something alike terror.

“Don’t worry Jess, I’m sure she’ll go easy on him.“ I say in an attempt to reassure her but I can’t even be bothered really, I’m too laser-focused on the circus that’s about to take place in front of me.

Mike, as if encouraged by my words, charges into the room. Much to his dismay, before he could even reach the ghost, he’s met with a much more vigorous enemy - the carpet. The rascal trips him up and Mr. Munroe falls flat on his face.

The group stays silent, looking at the glorious aftermath of the glorious fall. Told ya these lights could make everything fabulous. Must say, it’s truly an honor for me to have been able to catch all that on tape.

“10/10, would ghost-hunt with Mikey Munroe again.“

[looniecartooni]

DGM Theory: Could Komui Lee be on the Autism Spectrum?

Warning: Spoilers and clunky theory (I haven’t done something like this in a long time and it is nearly midnight). I am not an expert on Autism nor do I know if the author is either. The only credentials I have is I have friends and have known people on the spectrum and I was given a hasty diagnosis at age 7 of a “slight case of Asperger syndrome” (a “milder” form) and have some relatable qualities with Komui. I do not intend or mean to offend anyone on the spectrum nor do I mean to insult the character. I’ve just seen a couple people do a thing like this with characters like Lilo from Lilo and Stitch and Santana from JoJo’s Bizzare Adventure and even a couple Steven Universe characters. I’m just a little copy cat who thought they could throw another character in the mix that maybe people can relate to instead of the generic Sheldon Cooper/ Good Doctor kind of representative. And who knows... maybe I’m wrong and he has ADHD or something. But of course... in the end it won’t matter because in the end, Komui will just be Komui. No labels attached. This theory will not change that in any way. Komui is Komui and we love him- so let’s dive in!

(Also- sorry. No pictures this time. Its too late at night to find any)

For those who are unfamiliar with the Great Komui Lee, he is the branch chief at the European Black Order. He however spends a lot of time in the Science Department, helping out with research and making sometimes very weird and crazy inventions that tend to annoy the whole order in some way. But he has 99% of the scientists’ respect. The other 1% is murderous rage...

People think he’s weird and crazy, sometimes even fear him. But they still respect him because under all that goofy hyjinx and over the top personality is a caring Branch Cheif who has done his best to make sure the order is a lot safer and nicer than it was for its residence and staff (including his sister who he went there for).

One characteristic of Komui that I personally think is a sign of Autism (or at least something I relate to) is what appears to be special interests.

Those familiar with D Gray Man know Komui isn’t very fond of doing his job. So much so he had to get an assistant to make sure he did his job. Before that, the Science Division had to make special handcuffs to make sure he didn’t run away a super long distance.

What Komui would rather do is make robots based in his image to “help” members of the science division (usually becoming the cause of much chaos with at least one exception when another one of his other inventions got into the wrong hands and the robot kind of helped out). He thinks very dearly of these robots and hates seeing them get destroyed, even if they hurt his beloved sister.

*side note: There are sometimes misconceptions that Autistic people can be seen as self centered. While this may not have been the author’s purpose in creating the character- she probably just wanted to make Komui more fun and silly with making his creations based off his own image as joke, it kind of ties into this theory. It has been displayed quite a few times that Komui isn’t self centered which I shall get into later.

Speaking of his sister, Lenalee Lee, could also technically be seen as something (or rather someone) he prioritizes care on. The reason Komui ever joined the order was because the order took his sister away from him and performed horrible experiments on in order to make her an Exorcist (soldier of the order who fights Akuma for those unfamiliar). While that in itself may not be an Autistic trait, the degree he goes to express his care for her could be.

Many times Autistics are misinterpreted as stoic and lacking emotion (even putting it as a symptom on some websites). But as Autistic Youtuber Princess Aspian puts it, Autistics can be sometimes more emotional or overly emotional (okay- those aren’t her exact words, but you get the gist). Komui will burst into tears and hug his sister at the very mention of her ever getting married (a common anime trope for dads and older brothers of girls, but as mentioned before he gets emotional with his robots too).

Relating back to this, he goes above and beyond to keep his sister safe. You can’t ever breathe a word that you may have an interest in Lenalee or else yo may receive a good whacking from one of his robots. Bak Chang (another branch chief who has a bit of a creepy obsession with Lenalee) was faced with numerous traps when simply trying to give her flowers. Who took the time to put up all those traps? Komui. Who joined a corrupt organization, changed it up, and works hard despite hating the work at said job because he knows his sister is a chosen Exorcist and therefore wants to make her feel safe and happy? Komui.

Another thing that makes Komui seem like he could be on the spectrum was the fact he did start off as anti social. Naturally, having your last living family member who was only four taken away from you by a mysterious church organization would make you very bitter. According to an off panel “ask the characters questions” kind of thing (called “Komui’s Discussion Room” that he never shows up for) Komui wasn’t always the friendly, emotional, unintentionally-havoc-reeking goofball we all know and love. I don’t have all the details (and neither does the author- she’s setting up something- I know it!) but it took a very friendly and active cook named Jery to help break him out of his shell. And according to another off panel, he and that chef are best friends.

One thing personally I’ve seen and relate to is sometimes the fact that while someone on the spectrum may seem anti social, they either just don’t want to be bothered as their focused on something else, or they just need a friend to relate to or help break them out of their shell. (*side note- please ask your friends or potential friends if they’d like to talk to you before trying to break their shells. Give them the option before forcing yourselves upon them. They probably would like to talk, but they also might be focused on something else. They are humans after all). Komui had a lot of years of guilt and anger built up in him and probably kept it to himself so the Order wouldn’t know why he joined. To have someone open up and be nice to him probably made him not only be able to be the Komui he is now but also really brighten up the Order. What’s more, he’s supposedly very attached to this friend as well, going as far as occasionally helping in the kitchen. I guess we can thank Jery for Komui being friendly and kind (Jery needs more respect guys!!!)

(Holy cow this is getting long! I’mma need to make more parts...)

I wasn’t sure at first I could have a lot to go on, but now thinking about it more and more, I think I have a lot more to go on. Now I’ve mostly related this part to myself and stuff I’ve heard in comparison to Komui’s demeanor. I’m going to nrrd to do more research, but I’d love to hear what you guys think. Do you think Komui is on the Autistic spectrum? Could it just be trauma? Is he the Autistic idle we all need represented in our media?

Share your thoughts and research and I’ll try to make a part 2!