#i may be wrong but i think his last appearance on stream was the halloween stream

[galaxdora]

Anyway. 275 days since last eki appearance. What a terrible time to live in

[huihuiheart]

Goretober D12: No Way Home - Ateez

Ateez + Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Serial killer themes, stalker themes, murder, death, suicide, poison, explosion, heights, falling, beating, fights, guns, mauling, gore, blood, drowning, mentions of police and police reports, threats, mention of poison gas, hospitals, mentions of drugging.

Word Count: 5,221

Sitting in the hospital bed all you could do was stare at the copy of the police report they had left with you. Saying they’d return for it it tomorrow, but if you remembered anything to add it to the paper or to tell them. The problem wasn’t remembering, despite your head trauma, the problem was that you couldn’t forget. Looking down at the paper in your hands again, as best you could with one swollen eye anyways you felt sick once again as flashes from the evening filled your mind, and still the people who had found amusement in your torment were no where to be found.

You wanted to run. Hide. Wake up from this nightmare. Anything at all to make it disappear. You had no idea how to live with the events of that evening......

October 11th - 9:17 pm

“Dude that is the sketchiest haunted house invitation I have ever seen.....and that saying a lot, considering it’s literally for a haunted house.” Seonghwa teases Jongho over his little suggestion of activity for the night as your group started to walk up to the abandoned looking building, it looking a rickety four stories high. 

“There’s still three weeks to Halloween bud, we don’t have to do all the scary stuff right away.” You tease the youngest even more lightly pinching his cheek with a small laugh. 

Jongho pouts with a small whine, “Hey! It just seemed like something fun that everyone can do together. You all said you wanted to get out of the house more! If that meant you guys wanted to go clubbing you should have said so!” 

“It’s fine, we’re just messing with you.” Seonghwa assures ruffling his hair, everyone still laughing as we enter. You and Yeosang jumping as a secondary door drops behind the last of you looking almost like the iron gate of a castle. Putting your hand over your heart you let out a breathless laugh at being so easily spooked.

“If you’re gonna be that scared Tiny you can stick with me, I’m a certified human shield.” Yunho slips his arm around your shoulders, he’s chuckling deep in his chest, but a soft concerned look is on his face. 

“I think I’ll be fine. I just don’t expect things sometimes.” You assure him, yet move to take his hand in yours anyways to calm some of his concerns. You may not have been the youngest, but to the boys you were their Tiny. The one they had to protect. 

Looking around one the immediate area of what appeared to be an office hallway was lit up, trying the doors you could see they were all locked. With furrowed brows you and the boys looked around before moving to step into the darkness not knowing where else to go. Only lights flicked on down the path to illuminate the hallway, straight to an elevator who’s doors opened.

“Going up?” I voice echoed through the building sound system, the voice holding a twang to it. The sound nothing southern in nature, but instead almost shrill as if holding back a laugh of some sort. Seeing nowhere else to go and assuming this was just part of the aesthetic of the house you all trudged cautiously to the elevator, squeezing in together. Once the elevator stops you all get off into the room it opens to you before swiftly shutting and dropping down to where it could offer you no way out. The room lighting up to reveal 12 dishes of different fruits. 

You look at Jongho with furrowed brows before you make any move to go examine the food, “Jongho....out of curiosity...what exactly was the theme of this haunted house?”

Jongho pulls out the flyer and offers it to you, “I don’t know Spectacle de something or other...” He shrugs.

Looking over the flyer your eyes widen, “Jongho. It says Spectacle de Mort....that means Show of Death.”

“Show of Death is right! Cause now we’re live, and we’re in for quite the treat with nine of you here. This should give us entertainment for quite some time. You see this is no ordinary haunted house. This place was designed to haunt you, while amusing us and a whole live stream of viewers. Not with little frights though, that amusement passes too easy... No, here you’ll be risking your lives. Simple as that. You all work to complete the activity assigned until your numbers have decreased by at least one person before the next door is unlocked. That is the only way to get out of here.....oh and one more thing. If you don’t do the activity it’ll be much less entertaining for us, but we can kill all of you by flooding any room with a poisonous gas...though it would still me mildly entertaining considering it’s an hallucinogen too.”

Your heart sinks at the voice’s instructions, watching as Jongho pales shoulder’s slumping.

 “I never should have brought us here. It really was a bad idea and a sketchy haunted house flyer and I’m so stupid...” He mumbles before you pull him into your arms, trying to shush him softly, cooing into his ear.

“Shh, shh, Jongho you had no way of knowing. Besides we won’t even know if it’s a hoax or not until until we do something, so let’s just worry about that for now. Okay?” You rub his back gently guiding the way further into the room. Picking up the cue card of instructions to read it.

“One out of the twelve is poisoned. Chose wisely and take a bite, for one is the forbidden fruit.”

You and the boys looked around debating your options. Though if this was legitimate, then at least you each had even odds and no one would have to bear the guilt if something went wrong. Each of you carefully trying to pick a fruit and hoping this was some sick joke instead of reality. Hongjoong picking strawberries, Seonghwa oranges, Yunho kiwis, Yeosang apples, San pineapple, Mingi blueberries, Wooyoung pears, Jongho mangoes, and you picked grapes. Everyone second guessing the whole time until one by one you took a bite and could only wait and hope. A long moment passes and nothing seems to happen as you drift closer to the end where Jongho and Seonghwa stand by the fruits they picked and closer to the door until Jongho starts coughing. It’s only a little at first as his hand comes up to rub at his throat it feeling funny along with his skin heating up. You look at him, eyes widening in shock as you see how pale he starts to look before the coughing suddenly gets harsher to the point of him coughing up blood. Nearly collapsing to the ground before you and Seonghwa catch him and help him sit. You gently rub and pat his back while holding him up and against your chest.

“E-Easy Jongho, just try to breath okay? We got you.” You try to assure him, but when you look up from your spot besides him to make eye contact with San your eyes are glistening with tears. The boys desperately scrambling to find any exit or to get someone’s phone to work to call for help realizing this is in fact legitimate and none of you were safe here, especially Jongho who possibly only had a few moments left. Jongho soon getting weaker as he only weakly sputters out blood and whimpers softly, relying on you to sit up even, before entirely going limp in your arms. Sobs finally breaking loose as you cup his cheek, gently wiping some of the blood off his face.

“C-Come on Jongho you gotta stay awake, we’ll find a way to get you help. J-Just please wake up.” You beg him, even as the door finally clicks open to the next room you don’t want to leave him alone. It’s only when Seonghwa gently takes him from your arms and lays him down that you let the boys take you to the next room hoping to find an exit there.

The next room seeming much more like a lab with all sorts of chemicals and test tubes, the whole area would have just reminded you of Chemistry class and how badly you sucked at that if it hadn’t been for what you just went through. Yunho holding you close and rubbing your back gently, absorbing your cries into his chest as he sniffles a little as well. Hongjoong finding the little card with instructions this time.

“One by one add the chemicals to the one in the center of the room. One of you might be lucky enough to get an explosive reaction.”

“Let Y/N go first.” Hongjoong stops Yeosang from going to grab one and get it over with and the boys all stop to look at him confused, “The chances of picking a safe chemical go down with each one. So Y/N first and then youngest to oldest. Except I’ll go last instead of Hwa.” 

“I-I don’t wanna do it that way. That’s not fair to the rest of you.” You whimper out before Hongjoong pulls you into another hug, gently wiping away your tears.

“It’s alright Y/N. Whatever happens is what happens, it’s not your fault. Now go pick one please and just get it over with.” Hongjoong assures gently before letting go of you, to gently nudge you towards the test tubes. You were kind of hoping that in staring at them something would give away which one would be deadly and just suffer the consequences so that the others wouldn’t have to, but you weren’t so lucky. Finally you chose one and poured it in, waiting and watching for a few moments and yet nothing had happened. It went on for a while until it was just Seonghwa and Hongjoong were left, for the first round anyways. There were more test tubes than there were you all.

“Joong you should go next, really. I’ll take my chances.” Seonghwa insisted, but Hongjoong wasn’t having it as he nudged Seonghwa over gently like he had you earlier. Seonghwa finally giving in as he goes to pick a test tube and pour it in. Waiting a moment nothing seems to happen, until he turns his back to it and it starts to sizzle. Seonghwa’s eyes widen and he quickly turns back towards it trying to cover the explosion with his body to protect the rest of you from it.  San realizing what was going on and pulling you close to shield you behind him too little shards of glass that made it through piercing his back as he keeps you safe. Him glancing over his shoulder to see what damage had been done as the next door clicks open, but not letting you around him to see as he firmly holds you and leads the way through to the next room. The speaker system cackling again, signaling the people who you wanted to curse out are ready to try and communicate with you again in a form other than paper and death.

“Wow! Only two deaths and you already have over 500,000 live viewers. Your quite the popular little group of individuals, aren’t you? Keep it up and we might just let one of you actually survive.” 

The words weren’t what will haunt you though, it was the mocking laughter that rung out afterwards. Echoing through the room, before the sound system cut it off again. You shake your head, eyes burning from tears unable to shed anymore in this moment and you were only two rooms in out of however many they wished to torment you with. Yeosang taking a turn to comfort you while Yunho looked at San’s back trying to help him out. Mingi going to look at the next paper.

“Some locked doors can be opened. Each person pick a door and step through to see what’s waiting on the other side. No cheating.”

Yeosang lets you hug him tightly as you both kind of waddle your way over to where the keys are with the other boys, “Go ahead and pick Y/N. Pick carefully.”

“You too.” You tell Yeosang softly, despite knowing that one person less would be leaving this room than entering no matter how well you all picked your keys. Yeosang kisses your forehead softly, squeezing your hand in comfort with a small smile before picking his while you chose yours. One by one you unlocked your doors all finding a pitch black entranceway. Even the ground was blacked out not providing any sign of what was to come. Until you all stepped through and you heard Yeosang’s scream. Turning towards where he’d been you see him fall in, running over to try and catch him and nearly sliding into the hole yourself if it hadn’t been for Wooyoung catching your leg. 

“Y/N you can’t just throw yourself head first into a hole like that!” Wooyoung scolds pulling you back and into a hug with his kneeling form, softening as he sees fresh tears on your face, feeling some falling from his own. 

“I-I just....I-I thought I could save him.” Your sobs have you shaking against Wooyoung’s chest as he rocks you gently, scooping you up to carry you into the next room.  

“I know, but we just have to try to make sure as many of us stay alive until help can get here. Over 500,000 people are viewing this live, I’m sure someone has called help by this point and they’ll try to help us. Who knows maybe they can save one of the boys.” Wooyoung tries to console you even if he knows himself that it’s false hope.  It served some good in calming you though, you being more hopefully about these things than he naturally was and therefore accepting it for the time being. Wearing through the fresh round of tears and your eyes dried once more, out of them for the time being and wiping your face to take on the next challenge with the boys. Looking around though you found no paper, hoping perhaps you’d been through enough torment to satisfy them. You knew it was too good to be true as the voice came over the speakers again though. 

“So while you’ve been busy entertaining our guests we’ve done some digging on you all......and I must say jealousy is a really nasty look. Especially on you Hongjoong. Not to mention the regretful things it can make you do.” The voice sighs before tsking softly, “Poor poor San....he’s got to let you down like this doesn’t he?”

San looks towards the speaker system in confusion, “What do you mean? He’s jealous of me?”

“Oh he most certainly is and because of that he’s going to have to get rid of you.” The voice chuckles darkly, Hongjoong and San both paling as your eyes widen.

“W-What do you mean? I-I’ll do no such thing.” Hongjoong insists practically screaming at the speaker.

“You will though, unless you want everyone in the room to die.” The voice is serious in it’s threat causing panic to settle in among you all.

“J-Just do it Joong. It’s not worth everyone dying over. It’s simple math...one life or six.” San urges softly despite the tears glistening on his cheeks, willing to do this for everyone else’s sake.

Hongjoong gently hugs the other man before looking around the room, “L-Let me see if there is anything to make it go quicker....b-be a little less painful for you.”

The voice laughs again, “You won’t find anything....you’ll have to do it with your own hands Hongjoong. Hope you still have some of those dark feelings for him, it might just make it go faster.”

Hongjoong feels as if he’s going to be sick, his dam breaking now as streams of tears stain his face, looking at Wooyoung and you for a moment, “Cover Y/N’s eyes.” 

His voice is so quiet like it’s barely there, but Wooyoung hears the words anyways nodding softly and turning away from it himself as he shield your face from the sight against him instead. That doesn’t block the sounds though, the cracks of bones and cries of pain. The sobs coming from all the men around you, but not as pained as the heart wrenching ones coming from Hongjoong while he acts. It dying away, but not soon enough as Yunho moves to cover your ears trying to protect you from that as well. Once it’s over you feel Wooyoung’s hold on you loosen giving you freedom to move. Slowly you walk past them to where San’s battered body lay, unmoving and taking the last pained and shuttering breaths as Hongjoong refused to even look at what he did, instead throwing up in the corner. You gently take San’s hand wanting to stay with him, even as the next door opened.

“Y/N.....we have to go if we can’t get out in time to get him help then he really won’t make it.” Mingi softly places his hand on your shoulder. You nod, but lean down to kiss San’s temple first.

“You’re so brave to do this San, but now you gotta stay strong for us. We’re going to get out and get help as soon as we can for you.” You whisper a promise to him before finally letting go of his hand, gently laying it down to go through the door with the others. Your shoulders slump at the sight of a gun, already knowing whatever the plan for the room was would likely not be pleasant if there was such an obviously placed gun. Yunho getting the little paper and reading it with a sigh before crumpling it up and throwing it as if that’s resolve anything.

“They want us to play fucking Russian roulette. Like normal people would hope to do this for the sake of entertaining others!” Yunho shakes his head as he feels like he’s about to crack again. All of you more than spent at this point with still no exit in clear sight. Not without the risk of at least four more people still dying.  

Wooyoung slipped an arm around you, pulling you close. Worrying about you as usual as Yunho stepped back over to the group, trying to discuss what order you should go in and so on. You didn’t pay that much attention to the conversation though, you didn’t really care what order you went in. Someone else would be dying in a few moments and you felt helpless to it. Part of you almost said fuck it and ripped about of Wooyoung’s arms to go take this one yourself just for the sake of the remaining boys, almost. You knew you probably wouldn’t get far though before they stopped you from what you planned to do. Like you’d rather watch them all die in front of you than save one of them. You were drawn out of your thoughts though when you heard a clicking sound, eyebrows drawing together as you tried your best to wiggle in Wooyoung’s hold and get a look around to see what it was. Another of the same sound following only a moment later.

“Guys, what’s that clicking sound?” You question, but are quickly dismissed by the others who are busy debating why their order is the best option. A debate no one had a right answer considering they were all trying to give themselves the worst chance of survival. 

“Not now Y/N, we’ll deal with that in a minute.” Mingi manages to spare you a glance and it’s only then when you realize who’s voice you hadn’t heard through the whole debate.

“W-Wait guys........w-where’s Hongjoong?” You question eyes widening at a third click sound, stomach dropping as you put two and two together. The others finally breaking from the circle to look into the room. Noticing Hongjoong with the gun to his head right as the bang of a gunshot went off. Not realizing you jumped or screamed at the sight before you, not entirely sure the others registered your reaction either. One that was to be expected when you just saw a friend shoot themselves, blood splattering over the walls. Something you’d see in a museum as a sick form of modern art no doubt, if this had been fake. A reality you would much rather wish for. Four doors clicking open this time as the cackling of the speaker comes on again.

“Hm....I guess the guilt was just too much for Hongjoong. It’s a real shame.” The voice mocks the pain the rest of you are going through, “I’ll give you all a moment to say goodbye to him and to each other now, because you’ll each have to pick a separate door and make your way through a maze. Of course the door at the end will only remain open for three of you. The last person will be left with something....not so friendly.”

Getting to the row of doors you stop the boys before they can start to argue again, “No! No more sacrificing yourselves! Then the rest of us are left to carry that guilt! We all have to agree before we walk through those doors that we’ll all try to make it! Whoever doesn’t.....it was at least fair and we know that. Besides there is a chance they can hide in the maze or something until help gets here.”

Silently the boys nod in a solemn agreement, knowing you had a point and all feeling the burdens of guilt themselves. A tight group hug being held for a moment, knowing it was possibly the last time one of you would be in it, before breaking apart and each walking through one of the doors. After a couple of turns through the weaving maze you stumbled across a glass wall, Yunho appearing after only a moment on the other side. Your smile at the sight of him dropped when you realized you couldn’t make out the words he was trying to speak through the glass. The sounds too muffled through the material, with a sigh he gives up after a moment simply putting a hand on the glass. You doing the same from the other side and giving each other a small smile through tear filled eyes. Until your adrenalin spiked again as a roar sounded through the maze. Looking at Yunho again you managed to make out one word before he turned to leave the glass wall, run. So that’s exactly what you did. You ran through the maze, barely calculating which direction would be a wiser choice as your flight instinct kicked in knowing there was a wild animal somewhere in here with you. Seeing the door out in sight you bolt through it, chest heaving when you reach the other side, looking up to see who called your name to see Wooyoung and Mingi already inside. 

“Yunho!” You yell turning back towards the door as you hear a pained scream before the door suddenly slams shut behind you. You bang your first against it with a curse, before Mingi pulls you away from the door, realizing that the room was moving. Going down in fact. Back to the level you first entered on maybe? No, you’d gone too far down for that now. You were in the basement when the doors opened again. The three of you slipping into the room. Wooyoung finding the little paper this time. 

“The way out will be revealed, but at a cost to you. The door will only be opened if one remains behind as a sacrifice.” 

The three of you look around trying to figure what it meant you wanted to do. Though soon you got a clue as part of the ceiling opened up, starting to flood the room with water. Gasping as icy wet soaks your shoes and works it way up your pants, making you feel much heavier. Eventually determine where the door is, a ladder in the far corner leading up to where an opening above could be. 

“What do we do to get it open then?” Mingi asks climbing up and pushing against it a little, “What kind of sacrifice do they want?” 

You all knew what kind, but you had no idea what they expected you to do, until a red flash came from the opposite corner of the room on the floor. Wooyoung looks at you two with furrowed brows, wondering what it could be. Mingi convincing you to step up a few rungs of the ladder as the water had already managed to get up to the waist at this point. 

“I’ll go check it out and let you all know.” Wooyoung decides before trudging through the rapidly rising water to get there. He has to dive below the surface to see what it is, only to spot a button. He presses it and holds for a moment, not realizing that where you were the door opened until he let go to surface for air.

“What did you do Woo? The door opened and then it closed again.”Mingi inquires looking at the boy who’s shaking out his hair and treading water on the other side of the room.

“I pressed a button for a bit. It must be when unlocks the door.” Wooyoung sees you and Mingi both go to offer and he quickly cuts you off, “Don’t even bother there isn’t time and I can hold my breath longest, I’m the one who’ll be able to hold it long enough for you both. Now get ready.”

You and Mingi both deflate slightly, but listen working up the ladder to wait for the door to open once again. Wooyoung waiting until you were both set to dive again, intending to hold the button for as long as possible, to be sure that both of you had made it. Not that it mattered much, the door immediately closing despite his hold on the button as soon and you and Mingi were through. With a soft sigh you picked up the last paper, like you had the first one. 

“The way things will end will come down to fate. Each choice you make could be your last or it could be the one that finally sets you free. The final door will open when every choice has been made, when only one is left standing.”

Lights were over what looked to be two bins with pull tabs, whatever being inside a mystery. You and Mingi exchanged a look sighing softly before making your choices and each grabbing a lever, not really sure what to expect or why you bothered to even play this game anymore. Even if you made it out alive, for what? Even if help arrived in time for some of them, it would simply be too late for others.

“We pull on three? And no matter what happens we agree to live our lives if we make it out?” Mingi questions, forcing a small smile like it would provide much reassurance at this point.

You give a small nod and return one of your own, “On three.”

1...

2......

3.

Pulling the levers neither of you made it out unscathed, a rolling pin dropping to smack Mingi in the head while a hand held mirror dropped onto you. Your arm coming up to block most of it from your head and face, cutting the skin on your arm while the back of Mingi’s head bled a little. Yet, you both knew it wasn’t enough for whoever was watching as the next two bins lit up. So on you went the next bins weren’t as dangerous of items, the problem us that you looked up wondering what yours was the food can the dropped out hitting you in the face immediately leaving a mark that would only get worse with time, eye swelling slightly. Meanwhile Mingi had a wine glass drop onto him, shattering and raining glass down over him, not helping either of your conditions, but not enough to kill yet. The third row of bins lighting up you both stumbled a little, battered from what you’d already been through, but making it to the next one and pulling the levers once again. Mingi’s loud cry broke out before you could see what happened to him, a rather heavy clock having dropped out and knocking him to the ground. You opening yours and quickly trying to shield your head from the mental pipe that dropped out, it was heavy and beat you a bit as it dropped, but not enough to knock you down. Carefully you go over and help Mingi up and to the next one when he insisted he keep going along with you, pulling again through the tears and swelling of your eye you didn’t see what dropped onto Mingi, only hearing the way the impact knocked the wind out of him in a pained manner while you simply had a grouping of ceramic plates fall onto you. The click of a door opening was enough to let you know how things turned out, trudging your way through shattered remains of the plate with little care and knowing you couldn’t bare to see what Mingi looked like now you made you way through the door. Entrance now in sight, in big flashing red above it the number of viewers your group had gotten the sick bastards who did this to you...... 23, 897,674...

_______________

Looking down at the police report again you shake your head, carefully reaching up to wipe your tears.

Police Report - Event reported 10-12-2020 - Time: 2:47 am

Choi Jongho - Cause of death: Poisoning. Victim stated through ingestion of mangos. Substance: Unknown

Park Seonghwa - Cause of death: Killed by an exploding test tube.

Kang Yeosang - Cause of death: Fell into a empty elevator shaft and onto old support beams. Body not located.

Choi San - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten by another man according to victim statement. Body not located.

Kim Hongjoong - Cause of death: Suicide, gunshot wound.

Jeong Yunho - Cause of death: Mauled by a wild animal, suspected missing lion. Body not located.

Jung Wooyoung - Cause of death: Drowning. Body not located.

Song Mingi - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten with objects; rolling pin, wine glass, clock, potentially more we have yet to find.

Y/L/N Y/N - Victim: Traumatized, suffering from major injury, taken to hospital where report was filed.

Assailant: Unknown. Multiple accomplices also in the wind.

You’re about ready to crumple up the paper and toss it aside, but as the doctor comes in again you settle for just setting it onto the wheelie tray they had for food and move it aside.

“Hello Y/N, we’d like to ask you something. Looking over some of your test results we were a little confused by it and wanted to see if you knew anything about it.” The doctor speaks softly and although you were long tired of questions, you nod anyways. Knowing that he was only trying to help and that you’d made Mingi a promise at the end.

“Do you happen to know why there was a hallucinogen in your system?”

[thiswasinevitableid]

A fun, potentially spooky prompt for Halloween season based on something you wrote in “Amnesty Records”: “Like the monster under the bed came to life, turned out to be hot, and really wants to fuck you.” Something to the theme of Little Monsters from 1989? Indruck and NSFW if you please?

This is indeed NSFW, and also came to me all in one burst.

Duck pulls the Captain Planet comforter up to his chin, sighing as he lays down. He turned seven today, and has been spoiled and fussed over. Mama Newton isn’t much of an entertainer, but she knows how to throw a birthday party. 

 A scrape  of nails on the floor and the rustle of something under his bed makes him freeze. 

“Taco, that you?”

When the cat doesn't appear, he sinks further under the covers.

“Mom?”

“No”  soft voice with a bit of hiss drifts up from under the bed.

He swallows, “Who’re you?”

“My name is Indrid. I live under your bed.”

“No you don’t, you weren’t there last night.”

“How do you know?”

“Just do. So go away.”

“No.”

“I’m gonna call my dad.”

“He won’t believe you” the bed frame rattles, “he will tell you to be a big boy.”

The monster is right, just yesterday dad was saying how proud he was of Duck being brave at the doctor. Fine, maybe if he pretends it’s not there, it’ll go away. 

“....aren't you going to cry?”

“No.” He sets his shoulders, glares at his wall.

“....not even a little?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A sigh, “I am not very good at this.”

Duck didn’t know monsters could be sad.

“Are, uh, are you a grown-up monster?”

“No. I am young and little, like you. They would not send a grown-up monster to a child, they send them to grown-up humans.”

“Grown ups don’t have monsters under their beds.”

“They do. They may not know it, but they do.”

Indrid doesn’t say anything else and Duck falls asleep. He’s hoping the monster won’t come back, but the instant his mom turns out the light, he knows he’s there. 

“I’m n-not scared.” He whispers to the ceiling.

“Yes you are. I can taste it.”

“You can't hurt me. You ain’t real.”

 A hand closes around his ankle and he yelps. The monster laughs, then hisses when Duck kicks his wrist. 

“That was not nice.”

“Neither was grabbing me”

There’s a huff, but nothing else. The third night, Duck is ready, sticking a fake sword under the bed as soon as Indrid says something. 

The sword is yanked from his hands. 

“Why is it this color?”

“Suppose to be from the future. Ain’t you seen space rangers?”

“No. That is not a movie we have down here.”

Duck is only now starting to recognize awkward pauses, but he’s pretty sure this is one.

“Will you tell me about it?” Indrid slides the sword back onto the floor by his dresser. 

He rolls onto his back. He’s not all that tired, and Juno is sick of hearing about it.

“Okay, so there’s this guy who’s a space farmer….”

----------------------------------------

It’s been a year and Indrid is under his bed almost every night, but Duck isn’t afraid of him anymore. Which is why he’s determined to finally get a look at him. How scary can a monster that wants to talk about T.V or trees or whatever else Duck has been up to really be?

When his mom turns off the light, Duck slips out of bed and lays on his stomach, staring into the darkness beneath it. 

Four red eyes appear, but nothing else. 

“Hey ‘Drid.”

“Hello. Why are you down here? Did you lose that action figure again?”

“Nah. Wanted to see you. Where’s the rest?”

“Hidden in shadows. I am not supposed to let humans see me. It can be dangerous.”

“Oh, uh, sorry?”

Indrid hurriedly adds, “But we can stay like this, this is okay. I think. I do not really care, I like being able to see you. You're like the baby multibear my friend has.”

“I ain't a bear.”

“No. But you are, ah, cute.”

Only Iris, Juno’s friend, has ever called him cute, and he only knows that because Juno told him. He understood he was supposed to think that was good. But he likes it much better when Indrid says it.

“What should we talk about tonight?”

Duck rests his chin on his hands, “You wanna play go fish?”

“You have a fish?” The red eyes tip to the right. 

He snickers, “No, it’s a game. Here, lemme show you…”

------------------------------------------

“You better give that one back.” Duck grumbles as he looks down from the bed to see his new Spiderman comic missing. 

“I have given all of them back.” He can hear the smile, the one he’s glimpsed in darkness while whispering secrets under the bed; it’s wide, and there are definitely fangs, but Indrid only ever shows it when he’s happy. He never has a mean smile like the jerks at school. 

“Where’s my Black Panther?”

“...........I dropped it in the stream when I was reading.”

“‘Drid!”

“I got excited!!”

“You owe me a new one.” There’s no anger in his words. It’s just a comic book, not nearly as special as Indrid. 

“Can I give you something from here instead?”

Duck closes the new Iron Man, holds it down to the space beneath the bed, “deal.”

------------------------------------------------

He wakes up with a cry, too quiet to be a scream but with tremendous force behind it. As the nightmare fades, something rolls off the bed behind him. 

“‘D-Drid? Please, please say that was you or Taco.”

“It was me, Duck. I, I am sorry, you were whimpering in your sleep and I could taste more and more fear and I did not want you to be afraid. I, ah, I thought if I held you, it would make you feel better.”

“Thanks.” He shivers, the dream reaching out from all sides, threatening more horror if he falls asleep.

“Can, uh, can you come back up? Just for a little bit?” 

“I should not. It was already risky to do it how I did.”

Duck nods, forgetting Indrid can't see him. That's fine. He’ll be okay. He can handle-

A tree branch scrapes the window and he throws the covers over his head. 

“Put your hand over the edge of the bed.”

Duck slips his hand out from the blanket and lets it hang in the air. Fingers link around it, and then Indrid is holding it full on. It doesn’t feel like holding Janes hand when he’s helping her cross the street; it’s cold, smooth, and the nails are sharp. He sneaks a glance, sees red claws wrapped around his wrist, and feels safe enough to sleep. 

--------------------------------------

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, don’t know why I’m so worried about startin’ high school. I mean, it’s fucking Kepler, the high school ain’t any bigger than the middle school. “

“I always get nervous for new lessons. Even with some ability to see the future, I am worried I will do something wrong. Maybe it is that?”

“Yeh.” Duck rolls onto his side, hoping for a glimpse of a hand. He wishes he knew what Indrid looked like, wishes he was coming to school with him tomorrow. 

“I am sure you will be fine. You are intelligent, and funny, and charming.”

He smiles at the wall, “Thanks, ‘Drid.”

“Any time, Duck.”

--------------------------------

His roommate is snoring, which is not what he was hoping for from his first night in the dorms. Class tomorrow is going to fucking suck if he hasn't slept. 

“Congratulations on the successful move.” A familiar voice slinks up to his ear. 

“‘Drid? Holy shit, did you follow me?”

“I am your monster, I go where you go. Sort of. It is complicated. What is not complicated however, is this.” The clawed hand pops up to the edge of the bed, placing a wrapped package near Duck’s head. Stealthily removing the paper shows it’s the bright orange truffles that come from Indrid’s home. Duck loves them.  

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“It is traditional in both human and monster culture to give a gift when one moves to a new home. And I like bringing you things. Are you feeling well? Excited to learn about the forest?”

“Yep. Just wish I could get to sleep.”

“One moment.”

He feels Indrid leave. Then his roommate's bed shakes and shudders, the other guy jolting awake in fright. He doesn’t look like he’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. 

Duck shifts onto his side, facing the wall, and whispers down the stucco, “Thanks.”

---------------------------------------------

A perk of his roommate getting a girlfriend is that Duck gets more nights alone. He’s soaked the pillow with sweat, and is so wrung out from cumming he hasn't wiped his hands yet. 

“Are you done?”

“JESUSFUCK”

“I'm taking that as a yes.”

“Please tell me you ain’t been there this whole time.”

“No, I always leave if you are doing that. It is private.”

“Thank fuck.”

Relief is followed by disappointment, which he decides he won’t think too hard about. 

It only takes another night before he does, imagining Indrid listening to him fuck himself, whispering instructions for how Duck should do it, even touching himself at the same time, getting off on the sound of Ducks pleasure before holding his hand all night. 

------------------------------------------------

It’s fall, and the apartment he and Juno share is close to campus, cheap, and fucking freezing.

Duck knows just how to warm up. Sliding his hand down his sweats, he starts picturing Rich, but the thought of jerking it to an ex is a boner-kill waiting to happen. So, he switches to his trusty fallback, selecting a blonde, fresh-faced yet kind of punk body for the voice under the bed. 

He wants to draw it out, but fantasizing about Indrid always sets his hand flying, too many nights like this seeding a deep desire in his veins that he has to purge fast for fear of what will happen if it lingers. The monsters name drops from his lips, breathy and urgent, and he’s too caught up to care  

“Indrid, fuck, please.”

“Please what?”

Gasping, he sits up. A figure is standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him with red eyes. In the dark room, he can’t make much out beside their glow and two short horns on the top of his head. Duck’s mind spins so fast it hurls out the first sentence that comes.

“‘Drid’s got four eyes, not tw-”

Another pair of eyes open just below the first.

“They are a secondary pair, so I can keep them shut and see just fine. I thought the sight of them might be too much combined with the rest of me.” Indrid murmurs.

“Th-though I ain’t allowed to see the rest.”

A shrug, “You aren’t. But I cannot bring myself to care right now. Not when you say my name like that.”

Summoning his courage, Duck locks his gaze onto Indrid’s own and slowly drags a hand up his dick, “You gonna show me the rest or not?”

A hissing growl curls around him as Indrid leans forward, clawed hands leading the crawl onto the bed. In the moonlight coming through the window, Duck sets eyes on the whole of him for the first time. 

His face is angular, sporting his wide toothy grin and framed by silver hair falling just past his chin. Past the claws, his arms are a mixture of tan skin and black and red scales, twining up his arms. The same combination is clear on his chest, visible above the neckline of the white tank-top. Flashes of color appear under the fabric, racing down Indrid’s spine, and Duck would ask what they are if Indrids face had not just come level with his. Standing up, the monster can't be much taller than him. But here, pinned against his headboard like a scientific specimen, Indrid bracketing him, he feels frighteningly small. 

“What happened to not spying on me when  I did this?” The words stick in his dry mouth. 

“It was accidental. I only stayed when I heard you call for me.”

“Wasn't callin.” Heat rises in his face. 

The grin widens, “Oh no?” A long tongue drags down Duck’s cheek, “You did not have even the smallest hint of hope I would her? That I would lay in the shadows, savoring the sounds of you, ah, taking yourself in hand?”

He’s so strange looking, every sensible part of Duck is screaming for him to run, to banish him under the bed and go back to his normal life. 

Duck inches his face forward, closing his teeth round the lobe of a pointed ear, “Maybe.”

Indrid chuckles, “Then maybe I have been hoping for the same. Maybe I have been touching myself and dreaming it was your hand instead of mine. Maybe” he brushes their noses together, “I have wanted this for as long as you have?”

“Least a year, more if I’m bein honest with myself.”

“Several years, but then again, I had the pleasure of being able to see your face. It made you all the more appealing.”

Duck reaches out a shaking hand, stroking silver hair. He means to say some platitude about Indrid being handsome because the affection in Duck’s heart means he couldn’t see him any other way. While that may be true,  a second, more surprising truth comes out in its place. 

“Thinkin if you’d let me see you, we woulda gotten here a lot sooner. “

There’s another growl and then he’s yelping out a laugh as Indrid yanks him flat on his back and unceremoniously rips his shirt off. His monster brings their lips together, tongue sliding between Duck’s lips as the human shoves both hands into Indrid’s hair. When he teases his tongue against Indrid’s, the monster whines, pressing closer and pawing his sides. 

“‘Drid” He mumbles. 

Another whine, higher and morphing into a chirr as Indrid grinds their hips together.

“‘Drid, you gotta let me breathe.”

The monster breaks the kiss, but coats his face in pecks as he catches his breath, chirping all the while. Something solid ripples beneath the fabric of his black pants where they rub against Duck’s thigh. 

“Holy fuck what, what exactly are you packin down there?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Hell yeah.” 

The pants and Duck’s sweats hit the ground in quick succession, Indrid’s shirt landing atop them a moment later when Duck pulls it off to kiss along the scaled swirls of his chest. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“Guh, uh, jesus, uh, ‘Drid, what’s it doin?”

Indrid looks down to where four short tendris are unfurling to reveal a ridged cock.

“Getting ready to fuck you?”

“Uh, how exactly?”

Indrid licks his lips, “Lay back and I will demonstrate. Do not worry, as much as it pains me to focus on anything but your face, I will use my foresight to be certain nothing I do leads to trouble. 

Duck rests his head on the pillow as Indrid settles between his legs, claws pricking his thighs when the monster pushes them apart. 

“Does the whole thing goOH, oh fuck.” He wiggles his hips, “fuck, ‘Drid, that feels so fuckin weird.”

‘That is not surprising. It is one of the tendrils which, unless I'm very wrong about human anatomy, none of your previous partners had.”

“Nnnnnnfuck, fuck you’re gonna fuckin ruin me, god fuckin damn that feels nice.”

“Wonderful.” Indrid bends down, hands gliding to rest by Ducks biceps. He kisses him slowly s the tendril continues stretching him open, slick and pulsing in time with the careful movements of Indrid’s hips. 

His monster noses down his throat, drgs his tongue back up it with a purr, “You taste divine.”

“If you,re fuck gonna eat me, do me a favor and do it after I cum?” Duck teases, stroking Indrid’s shoulder blades. 

Indrid laughs, “A fair request. But I have zero interest in eating you; how could I? I would lose my best friend and my new favorite past time.” The tendril thickens, making Duck moan and throw his forearm over his eyes. 

“Fuuuck, are all monsters this fuckin sappy?”

“Only yours. And it is not as if you're not that way. I remember those love notes you asked me to help with.”

“Okay okay, we’re both big fuckin marshmallows. Now, AAHnn, are you gonna help me break this bed or not?”

Indrid pulls out with another growl, kneading Duck’s ass as he lines up his cock, “Yes, yes I am.”

“FUCK, ohfuckohfuck, yeah, fuck yeah.” Duck digs his fingers into Indrid’s back as he shoves in, “‘Drid, tht’s so fuckin goodohshit, what, what’s it doin now?” The tendrils have spread, one curling around his dick, two teasing his balls, and the fourth twining up Indrid’s shaft, meaning Duck’s toes curl with new sensations on the next thrust.

Indrid grins against his neck, “Taking care of you.”

“Ain’t that, that thoughtful.”

“All for you my sweet, goodness, you’re so warm and your ass is delightful.” His lips find Duck’s cheeks, “I’ve wanted this so long, sweetheart, so very longAHhnnnn.” His head hits the pillow as Duck scratches down his back. Not only do colors flash in his wake; spikes emerge along the ridge of his spine, flickering red to purple to black.

“Is that-”

“-okay yes very, o-okay. You can touch them, they will not hurt.”

Duck runs his finger up one. It’s feathery and smooth, rising and lowering with the undulations of Indrid’s body. Tugging it makes Indrid snap his hips with a chirring growl.

“Yes, yes do that again, more, please ohahnnnnisJunohome?

“No?”

“Good.”

The words Duck meant to say give way to shouts of pleasure as Indrid slams into him over and over, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and clawing at his sides. Duck scratches his scales and skin, strokes and pulls the feathery spines, Indrid trilling when he does. His hips quicken, Duck struggling to keep pace as the monster pins him more firmly to the bed. When he cums the tendrils tighten, sending Duck over the edge right after him. Indrid kisses him again, nipping long his lips as he whimpers the monsters name. 

As his whole body spasms and relaxes, Indrid rolls him over, panting. 

“More, I want more, again, mine, you are all mine.”

Duck looks over his shoulder, grinning fondly, “Uh huh.”

“What is so funny?”

“Nothin. Just, uh, realized there's a plant your dick reminds me of.”

Indrid blinks so intently his second set of eyes join in the expression. Then he cackles, draping himself over Duck to kiss him again. 

“You can tell me all about it after we are done with the extremely pressing matter of me fucking you again.”

“Go wild, darlin.”

This time the pillow takes the brunt of the noise, Duck grunting and moaning into it as Indrid fucks him from behind, switching between slow, gentle thrusts and grabbing Duck’s hips to drive into him hard enough to set off fireworks in his brain. He’s overstimulated to the point of tears, but his whole system floods with pleasure at the intensity of Indrid’s desire, the feeling of being so utterly used and wanted all at once. When the monster pulls out, he’s cum enough that it drips down Duck’s thigh, tingling as it goes. 

“Now” Indrid flops onto the mattress, wriggling into Duck’s waiting arms, “tell me about this plant.”

----------------------------------------

When Juno gets home Sunday morning, Duck is in the kitchen humming long with a playlist on his phone. 

“Holy fuck man, what happened to you.” She stares at the bitemarks and bruises all around his neck and shoulders and the scratches on his legs. 

“Had a real nice weekend.”

“You got all that from a hook-up?”

Duck shakes his head with a secretive smile, “Nah. Just had a sleepover with my new boyfriend.”

[everdino]

Okay, i gonna regret it.

Before it start, i have to say, that i AdORE Eve's blitzbee sparklings, and also love to write. But, there's one thing. Up to this point, I wrote something like fics in my native language.  This is my first English text, so there are probably a lot of mistakes.  And, also, I probably couldn’t accurately convey the character’s character, but at least I tried.  Immediately I apologize for all the mistakes, I hope you enjoy it

Helix belong to @eve-of-halloween i don't own any character, only text itself.

Father support

- I must admit, with your ability to absolutely rash and ridiculous actions you have surpassed your own sire - grumbled the ex-con, dragging on his shoulders his reckless sparkling. Despite a frown and a rare growl due to the weight on his body, in his voice were clearly heard excitement and even fear. Young Prime grinned hoarsely:

- May be. But still, if not for this rashness, neither I nor my siblings would even be born.

There was only silence in response, apparently Blitzwing thought too deeply about his words. - Yes. Here I have to agree. - triplechanger finally answered after a while.

It all began so well. He and his little bug came to visit their son and see their grandson either. However, a small, but very annoying bunch of Decepticons, who lost contact with their own kind, had different plans.

Cons attacked suddenly, taking advantage of the confusion of the bots. For Blitzwing, they were just a toys, that didnt represent anything serious. But even so, they managed to knock out Helix at the last moment and take him as prisoner. Unfortunately for them, the former con noticed this. Making sure, that Bumblebee and sparkling retreated safety, he rushed right behind the Decepticons, for his son. And all because Helix thought it vital thoughtlessly attack the enemy, initially not appreciating the situation, and, as a result, damage his leg. Thinking about it made Blitzwing frown harder. Why was this so familiar to him? Oh, yes. Bumblebee.

Long story short, now they unknown where, with the destroyed small ship of the Decepticons, without the Decepticons themselves nearby (which was very suspicious), without communication and with a damaged leg of Helix. Wonderful.

Not a new situation for the triplechanger, but Bumblebee at least had his stingers.

- How badly is your communicator damaged? - Blitzwing asked, moving far enough away from the scene of the accident. He planted Helix on the ground and crouched next to rest for a little. Just because young Prime is small, doesn't mean he's as light.

- Not as bad as other injuries. Probably, I can configure everything in a couple of hours. If someone don’t find us before - answered Helix.

This was encouraging. Blitzwing once again checked the systems, slightly jerked his cannons. His ability to transform was still in the ranks, unlike Helix, who had not fatal, but very unpleasant wounds on his side. Of course, Blitzwing could take his son in his arms and fly up, but he was afraid that he would attract unwanted attention. Not to mention that he had no idea where they were or where to fly. All the attempts of the elder mech to contact anyone (It’s worth noting that, by “anyone” was meant Bumblebee or Hornet) were unsuccessful. With a sigh of exasperation, the triplechanger leaned against the stone, closing the optics to gather his thoughts. Helix was silent, which was unusual for him, as well as for Bee.

- Are you okay? Does it hurt? - the father inquired anxiously, opening the optics and peering at his son. Young Prime twitched when he realized, that Blitzwing were talking to him and looked up. - huh? oh no no I'm fine. Like...it's certainly not my best condition, but it could have been worse, right?

- You're pretty quiet. - Blitzwing noted rather persistently. - What bothers you?

Helix looked away. - I'm just worry. Do you think Stormy and Vantage got out of there safely? And sire? They were pursued?

Taking a deep breath in order to remain in his "cold" consciousness, triplechanger nodded encouragingly to him - I am sure of that. Your mech friend stepped back with Vantage as soon as the cons appeared. And Bumblebee...- he stumbled. But as for his own conjunx, he was no longer sure. You can't underestimate the small bot, Blitzwing was convinced of this more than once on his own armor, but he could still get into trouble, possessing the same reckless character

- I suppose your sire also handled the remaining bunch of these morons. - he concluded. - They'll be fine, Wing....Helix - mech corrected himself. A warm sensation of pride, mixed with light nostalgia, spread over his spark. His little sparkling, part of him and part of his dear Bee, became something more, than just the petty son of a traitor. Traitor...Blitzwing didn’t give a damn about what others thought him to be, but the realization, that his sparklings could be judged for his crimes forced his cannons to heat up.

No one dared blame HIS sparkling

Meanwhile, Helix smiled at him, in gratitude for his support, and looked away again. His wings and shoulders were down, his knees pressed to his stomach, which made him visually smaller than he was. Something was wrong. Blitzwing felt it and it started to make him angry. He was angry that he could not help him, because he did not understand what exactly was the reason. But despite this, he did not let the hothead appear, forcing himself to be cold-blooded.

- So, we are without communication - Before the former con had time to say something, Helix began to speak first. - We are without communication, without energon, I can’t fly. We don’t know where we are and don’t know if others can find us. -

The young prime took a deep breath and spoke again, hiding his trembling voice. Trying at least:

- I don't know how my conjunx is and how my sparkling is. I just very very stupidly fell, injured a fragging leg. Allowed these bastards to capture myself. And now, not only me but you are in danger!

Blitzwing fluttered his wings, revealing his optics in surprise. - Helix ..- he began, but young mech interrupted again:

- Which damned prime of me is if I framed those who are dear to me? I should have made sure everyone retreated safely. I had to think before doing. I should not have allowed myself to be captured. - he growled. - But I didn't! I'm not just bad prime, I'm a shitty carrier, and just a reckless idiot!

- Helix..- Blitzwing said much louder, wanting to stop this stream of unfair judgments about his dear sparkling, especially since these same judgments come from this very sparkling, but Helix didn't stop.

- Sentinel was right about me...-

- NO. HE. WAS. NOT! - The sound of a loud whirr pierced the air as triplechanger face began to spin.The scarlet visor lights up with a bright red light, from the anger overwhelming him.

- This big-chin cretin was never right about you. Like you right now talking wrong bullshit about yourself! - growled Blitzwing, clenching his hands into fists. However, anger quickly waned when fleeting fear swept through Helix's optics. The face spun again, revealing an icy personality, and the former con spoke darkly and sternly:

- Your judgments about yourself are fundamentally wrong. You cannot be good or bad prime. Trite for the reason that you simply did not have experience. You cannot be a bad or good carrier, Vintage is still very young. Although, even here I have to say that you take good care of him, based on how I or Bee took care of you in due time. - he paused for Helix to process the information and continue: - Yes, you acted very thoughtlessly and stupidly. But everyone makes mistakes. Yes, I agree that this mistake could become fatal, for which I am dissatisfied with you, but even this case does not give you the right to say such shit about yourself. Besides, - his optic softened - Recognizing your mistakes is already the path to success. The next step will be to realize how to fix these mistakes. As for my safety, here you definitely can not worry. I have experienced even worse days, the only danger for me now is to allow any harm to you. Because no matter how high in status you are, you are still my sparkling, and for me, as a creator, the main priority is your safety. Mental including. You understand me? -

Helix nodded silently. To Blitzwing's relief, he looked at him with a certain interest.

- Being prime is probably hard. I don’t know and never will, but I know that you will succeed. You have already done a great job, making me and Bumblebee proud. Do not let anyone judge you for your height - suddenly his face spun - I judged and then a couple of very very unpleasant stingers made me regret - he laughed with his crooked scarlet smile, after the face spun once again: - Also, do not let yourself be judged for your origin. You are not me. And I hope you never will. You are better than me, you will make this world a better place. Like your siblings. You all making this world better.

- I..- Helix hesitated, looking a little embarrassed - do you really think so?

- Yes, i am.

- Thank you. Really...- the young prime perked up noticeably. Something deep inside the triplechanger noted, that his gaze resembled that gaze of his own sire, but he decided to drop such thoughts. Not now.

- I'll try...to be better. - finished Helix.

- Of course, you will.

Then was silence, but there was no awkwardness in it. Helix came to his senses, taking off this unusual manner of self-criticism, new forces appeared in him.

- So, - the young prime spoke up. - How about a little while before my leg stops hurting? Then we will try to contact the big-chin cretin again, maybe some exploring.

- Sounds like a good idea for me. - Whirr - And if you call once Sentinel "big-chin-cretin" make sure he knows what I came up with! - giggled black face

- Ya got it - Helix grinned back - Now wanna hear how me and the boys doing stupid things in your absence?

- Yes Yes, tell me, boy! - Blitzwing nodded his head vigorously, his wings trembled merrily. Soon, he realized how much he hated being in silence as soon as Helix spoke. And he was terribly happy that most of his sparkling took this trait from the little bug.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Some time has passed since the moment of their conversation (more precisely, the Blitzwing monologue). Helix moved his leg in different directions trying to find out if it hurts or not, while the former con wandered around, in new attempts to contact the others.

- Its sucks, - Young bot concluded, realizing that he still could not get up. Blitzwing wanted to help him, when he heard a quiet sound, which he regarded as a jet engine.

The cannons at the same moment fell into combat mode starting to charge. - Stay close - he growled, trying to determine where, and most importantly, from whom the sound was coming. By the edge of the optics, he noticed how Helix activates the blade on his hand. The probability that this was a con is clearly higher than that it was a bot, since the bots only have three jets and one helicopter. his monocular began to move trying to detect the sound source. When he noticed an approaching jet, he began to doubt its hostility, but he didn’t want to hurry, so that he would be completely convinced of his guesses.

However, these doubts disappeared when Helix jumped in place: - Stormy!! - he shouted. Blitzwing waited a bit, peering into the jett, then raised his cannons, calming down. The blue-yellow jet transformed in the air and literally rushed towards them. - Helix! Are you okay?!

- Nearly! - answered the happy Prime. Young bots collided with each other, hugging tightly. - My leg hurts a little but I'm fine!

- You have no idea how much we were worried. Bumble bot almost went crazy. And I understand him perfectly! - more excited, than judgmental, Jetstorm said

- Is everything okay with Vantage? - Helix asked worriedly.

- Except that he missed you terribly, then he’s okay - Smiled Stormy

Blitzwing stepped aside so as not to interfere with the two bots in love. There was a faint smile on his face when he heard about the Bumblebot. He will hear a long and extremely emotional lecture on why he should not have done this...alone. Bumblebee will obviously be offended, that he could not join the rescue mission. Little caring bug. He turned and saw Helix's happy smile. That smile, like the smile of Bumblebee, Hornet or the twins, was the reason he was still here. To tear the faces of those who dare to take that smile from their faces.

Whatever it takes.

[shotsbyshae]

Familiar Taste of Poison

Warnings: Angst, Language, Suicidal Thoughts, Smut

Words: 1.8k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/N: It’s October! In honor of my birth month and all things Halloween related here’s a little Monster of the Week drabble. 

Song: Familiar Taste of Poison by Halestorm

I don’t wanna be saved.

The morning sunlight streaming through your window is much too bright for your liking as you tug the blanket over your head. You contemplate the idea of staying in bed all day, not wanting to face anyone or anything.  It’s much easier to be alone – after everything that’s happened.

An arm snakes it’s way around your waist, muscles flexing as it pulls you against the warm body beside you and you instinctively tense up in the sudden awareness that you are not alone in your bed. The man props up on one elbow as he glances at you with a sleepy smile, “Hey.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stare up into those familiar blue eyes. What in the hell? How?

There’s a flicker of concern across his features as he watches you, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

You don’t realize your hand is trembling until you reach for cheek, running your thumb along the stubble there. The words tumbling out in confusion, “No – I – it’s fine. You’re fine.” It’s a dream, you think to yourself as he moves in, brushing his lips against yours as his hand moves to your neck. You press against him as you deepen the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair in a familiar fashion.

This can’t be real can it? Your mind wanders, knowing he’s gone. You were there when it happened.

One thing you can’t get past is he feels real – tastes real – he rolls on top of you, bracing himself with his metal arm as he peppers kisses along your jaw. You feel him against your thigh and you greedily grab for the waistband of his pajama pants. His lips smirk against your neck at your eagerness, but this isn’t like the passionate sex the two of you had in Wakanda, this is desire – a hunger. Everyone has a primal side and yours kicks in as he tosses your pajama shorts aside. You bury your face against his neck, you need to breathe him in, feel his skin prickle against yours as he slips inside you easily, knowing you were wet the moment his mouth met yours because you always melt for him. Bucky Barnes has constantly been your weakness. The moan he lets slip out against your ear sends a chill down your spine and brings you to the edge. You can hear his teeth grinding together as his thrusts become more rhythmic and you know neither of you are going to last much longer because this isn’t a dream.

When you both come it’s quick and raw and fucking real.

“That’s better than coffee,” Bucky smirks after he pulls his pajama pants back on.

You smile back at him, still trying to decipher things. Wakanda had happened, right? He climbs back onto the bed pressing a soft kiss against your lips as he does.

A quick knock from the door interrupts the two of you and a young man’s voice fills the room as it opens, his hand covering his eyes as he steps into the room, “Please be dressed. Mr. Stark sent me to –”

Peter doesn’t have time to finish the sentence before you’re across the room with your arms around his neck, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you whisper, “Oh my God.”

The boy stands there in shock, one hand on your back comfortingly as he stares at the man who is slowly climbing out of your bed, “Oh – okay – this is new. Is she okay?” His question is directed at Barnes, who gives a shrug of his shoulders.

You realize the scene your causing and you step back quickly, “Sorry, I – I had a bad dream.” Peter watches you curiously and you continue, “You were gone – Thanos had won.”

“Thanos is gone,” Bucky comments as he stands up from the bed.

A vision overtakes you, one of Thanos wearing the gauntlet and snapping his fingers, but you blink your eyes with a shake of your head, bringing your room back into focus, “You’re right – he’s gone.”

Later you make your way down the hall toward the kitchen, in desperate need for coffee. The uncertainty of the mornings events creating chaos in your brain. You round the corner, bumping into Steve and his arm juts out to grab you by the shoulder.

Another vision flashes through your mind of you kneeling on the ground, your hands covered in ashes, tears warm on your cheeks as they fall silently. There’s a hand on your shoulder and you glance up to see Steve, his long hair slicked back with sweat and blood matted in his beard. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, and he looks defeated – broken – beaten and battle-worn. He kneels down beside you on the ground and you lean into him, glancing back to the dark pile of ashes on the ground before you.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice brings you back to reality, or at least you think it’s reality, and you glance up wide-eyed at the man standing in front of you.

“Yea – I’m just – tired. I need coffee,” you smile reassuringly.

The caffeine only agitates your anxiety and you change into workout clothes and head for the gym. You’re burning off energy as you work the bag in front of you, jab – jab – cross – jab, on a continuous loop for a while when you see Sam enter the gym with Bucky. Your heart drops for a moment as you stop and watch their playful banter. The dread creeping back into your mind, something isn’t right.

“You know this isn’t real,” Natasha’s voice states matter-of-factly into your ear and you jump at her sudden appearance.

“What?” You breathe heavily, her words threatening the peacefulness of this reality.

“You need to get a grip,” she says angrily grabbing your arm. “You’re living in here, but you’re dying out there.”

The scene changes again to a warehouse and an IV-bag full of dark red liquid – blood maybe – the line runs down in front of you and lays flatly against your shirt. You feel insanely weak, your eyes won’t stay open. Suddenly you’re standing in the conference room as pictures flash on the screen in front of you: Fury, Bucky, Sam, Peter. Natasha’s there, with Steve and Bruce, all of them look devastated.  Romanoff’s words fill your mind, “Thanos did exactly what he said he was going to do. He wiped out fifty percent of all living creatures.”

“Hey,” Nat’s expression is different as she touches your shoulder gingerly, bringing you back to the safety of gym. “Everything okay?”

“No,” you shake your head as you begin tugging off the gloves. “I – I need some air.”

Rushing from the gym, you hear Barnes’ voice as he chases after you, “Wait – hey – what’s wrong?”

You turn on your heel as he jogs towards you, “I – I don’t know what’s real anymore Buck.”

He takes your hands carefully in his, “Sshhh, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“But you’re not,” you shake your head as the tears begin to fall. “I saw you die. You’re all gone. You, Peter, Sam – none of this is real.”

A soft smile graces his features as he cups your face in his hand, “But it can be – we can be real.” Peter and Sam approach quietly from nowhere as Bucky continues to speak. “You can live a full life with me here – just like this. We can finally be happy.”

The look on his face breaks your heart, we can finally be happy. You would give him anything he asks for – he deserves it.

“Aren’t you tired of losing?” Sam questions sincerely. “You deserve a chance at happiness. You’ve done enough.”

“Please,” Peter joins in, and you glance over at him, seeing the tears forming in his eyes. “Please stay – I don’t wanna go.”

Bucky turns your face to him, bright blue eyes staring down at you as his brows knit together, “Stay with me.”

This is wrong and you know you should be strong – fight it. Find your way out of this perfect fantasy land and go home because your body is dying – you know deep down it is. That’s what you should do, but the truth is, you’re not strong anymore and you’re tired of pretending to be. You fake it for Nat, and you fake it for Steve, and you fake it for Tony, and you’re done faking it. Thanos had broke you.

It may be selfish, but you were choosing happiness.

“For you,” you nod in agreement placing your hands on either side of Bucky’s face, pressing your lips against his. Your words a whisper between the two of you, “I’ll stay – for you.”

The smell of blood and grease fill your nose and you can hear someone speaking, a deep voice that sounds so far away. Your arms are stretched above your head and your bare feet are barely touching the concrete floor. Everything is so cold – damp – you can’t feel your fingertips or toes.

“You two take care of it. I got her,” a strange voice states, and you want to look at what’s happening, but your eyelids are too heavy. There’s a stinging sensation as something is pulled from your neck. “Come on sweetheart – wake up.”

You feel movement as the man works on the ropes which are tied around your wrists, keeping you suspended from the ceiling.  Suddenly, you can taste the salt from the tears that have rolled down your cheeks and moistened your chapped lips. It had all been a dream – none of it was real – they were still gone. He was still gone.

“Sam, is she going to be okay?” This voice is concerned and familiar – Rogers.

“Yea,” another strange man’s voice replies. “She’s alive, we got here in time.”

“And that’s a djinn?” Rogers tone sounds disbelieving.

“Yea.”

“Steve,” your voice cracks as you finally begin to open your eyes. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally focus on the stranger in front of you.

“No,” the man with the gravelly tone glances down at you with piercing green eyes. “I’m Dean.” His expression changes upon seeing the look of angst on your face as the realization continues to sink in and the look, the look he has isn’t pity – it’s understanding.

“I wanted to stay,” the words are barely audible as fresh tears form. You bring your fists down against his chest weakly as he frees you from the ropes. His arms catch you as you start to collapse, your eyes pleading with him as small sobs vibrate from your chest through to his, “Why didn’t you let me stay?”

[willow-salix]

Isolation update! I was planning on doing the prompt of "Sight" for @gumnut-logic challenge for the next chapter of the big fat fic (which I'm still gonna do) but this came out too. So I let the boys roll with it.

Day 76 of Isolation on Tracy Island

“Scott?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know anything about this?” I held up my headphones, which had been previously missing for maybe the last eight months and that I had just found in the cutlery drawer.

“Yeah, they’re headphones.”

“Thank you Captain Obvious, I meant why are they in with the knives and forks?”

He shrugged. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you were hiding socks around the place for over three weeks.”

“Only because it took you so long to give them back to me. I started after we watched Half Blood Prince, I thought it would make you laugh but you just kept ignoring them.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t realise you needed to be freed!”

“Of course I did! I was your house elf!”

“House elves do chores! They don’t sit around being fed and demanding attention!”

“I’m a progressive house elf that is fighting for elf rights!”

“No you aren't, you’re a lazy bum!”

“Lazy? Me?”

“Yes, you!”

“I will never understand the conversations you two have,” John muttered as he pushed past us to fill his mug with the coffee I had just brewed.

“It’s affectionate arguing,” Scott laughed, sliding his mug over to John for a top up.

“So no one knows why my headphones have just suddenly turned up from wherever they vanished to and magicked themselves into the kitchen?”

“Nope,” Scott gave up waiting for John to pour him a drink and stole mine. I narrowed my eyes in his general direction. John slid a fresh cup over to me. Such a great guy.

“You know,” John mused. “I found one of my world geography books in the bathroom cupboard.”

“I found my utility knife in the piano stool,” Virgil added, wandering over to snag some toast that had just popped up.

“I just made that,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he continued to butter it. I stared at his plaid clad back for a few seconds but when he failed to burst into flames I gave up and dropped some more bread into the toaster.

“Now that I think about it,” Scott mused, “I found my guitar pick in the fruit bowl, the one that I got from that little shop in Texas. I thought I lost it for good years ago but it just appeared out of nowhere.”

“Something strange is going on,” Virgil declared. “If stuff we lost is returning there has to be a reason for it.”

“Parallel universe,” I answered confidently.

“I don’t think that's a thing,” Scott said gently.

“Apports then?” I offered.

“No, I don’t think...what’s an apport?” Virgil asked.

“An object conjured out of nothing by a ghost, obviously.”

“I don’t think this is the work of a ghost, love," John said, squeezing my shoulder as he passed by to take a seat. “There’s only one person that borrows things without asking and that’s Gordon.”

“That was going to be my next guess,” I admitted.

“Yet you went straight for ghosts and different universes?” Scott asked, clearly bemused.

“Well, maybe, just for once, I wanted something interesting to happen around here that I could actually deal with,” I huffed. “Sue me.”

“Only you could think ghosts and different realms were something that’s easy to deal with when you were the one that screamed and climbed me like a monkey because a crab ran over your foot on the beach last night,” John laughed.

“Crabs have pincers, any sane person would get away from one of them,” I pouted, reaching for some toast off Virgil’s plate. Honestly I don’t know why we don't just have communal plates in this house, no one seems to eat their own food.

“So what are we going to do about Gordon being a kleptomaniac?” I asked.

“We’ll deal with him after breakfast,” Scott decided, leaning over and biting the corner off my toast. See? No boundaries whatsoever.

***

The klepto in question was sneaking suspiciously around the lounge when we tracked him down and we caught him in the act of leaving a magnifying glass behind a book on the bookcase.

“Busted,” Scott yelled, making Gordon jump about a foot in the air.

“So it was you that’s been leaving our belongings scattered around the house,” Virgil sighed.

“Why are you doing this?” John asked, although his tone said he was debating the wiseness of even posing the question and was unsure he actually wanted an answer.

“Can’t a guy do something nice for his family?”

“He can when he’s not the one thats been stealing things in the first place,” I shot back, arms folded, foot tapping.

“I’m offended!” Gordon gasped dramatically. “A Tracy doesn’t steal unless its Virgil and a bell takes his fancy-”

“That was one time and it was an accident!”

“I may borrow things,” Gordon continued.

“For three years?” Scott snorted.

“I borrow on extended loan-”

“Without permission,” John added.

“But you always get them back eventually,” Gordon finished triumphantly. “I got bored and cleaned my room and it was like unearthing buried treasure. I may have forgotten that I borrowed a few things but you’ve got them back now, so no harm no foul.”

“Is that all you needed to return?” Virgil sighed.

“There might be a few other things scattered around,” Gordon admitted.

“Go and get them,” Scott ordered.

Gordon staggered in half an hour later weighed down by a massive box overflowing with his plundered loot.

“Seriously?” Scott gaped as the box thumped down on the table.

“All of that?” Virgil couldn't believe his eyes.

“Not surprised,” John muttered.

“How did you manage to borrow all that?” Alan asked in awe, having been summoned from his pit to claim any lost items that may have fallen into Gordons possession. “I’m not even allowed to borrow a pen.”

“It’s because he doesn’t bother asking,” John told him.

“That’s where I’ve been going wrong!”

Gordon shooty finger winked at him.

“No!” I yelped, intervening for the first time and grabbing Alan, pulling him into my arms. “Do not corrupt this precious bean.”

“Too...late,” Alan wheezed, trying to escape my python like grasp.

“Oh, sorry,” I let go and Alan took a dramatically deep breath.

“What’s in the box, Squid?” Scott asked.

Gordon tipped the box up and out tumbled a mass of things that shocked even me.

“That’s my baseball cap,” Scott snagged it.

“My gloves,” Virgil claimed them.

“That’s my camera,” John snatched it up. “I thought I left that behind on the beach and the sea took it.”

“Well, technically the sea’s representative did,” I giggled, then noticed something in the middle of the pile. “Why do you have my headscarf? You know that I use that when you guys force me to get in a boat, it makes me feel fancy.”

“Are those my sunglasses?”

“Yes, I broke mine and was going fishing.”

“Is that my lipstick?”

“Yeah, I used it to draw blood on my neck so I could be a zombie at halloween.”

“There’s my ocarina.”

“It was so weird I had to try it.”

“Is that my belt?”

“Yeah, remember that date I went on with Penny? It went really well with those navy pants.”

“I thought I lost that harmonica.”

“I was going through a depressed week and wanted to play the blues.”

“Is that my cologne?”

“Same date.”

“Why do you have my toothbrush?”

“I used it to clean the sand out of one of Four’s filters.”

“My playing cards!”

“Yeah, I wanted to learn card tricks.”

“My travel chess set!”

“Four of the pawns are missing now, sorry.”

“Seriously, my drill?”

“I wanted to put up a picture.”

“Why did you need my tie?”

“That's classified.”

“That’s my favorite pen.”

“Yeah, I’ve got no excuse for that, I used it, put it in my pocket and forgot about it.”

“Gordon, why do you have my flip flops?”

“Mine broke and your’s were nearest.”

An endless stream of lost objects had suddenly returned home and it was a tad overwhelming but along with his more recent acquisitions were items that hadn’t been seen in forever.

“I remember this game!” Alan exclaimed, grabbing the box. “John and I used to play it all the time when I was little. You had to be astronauts and fly through the meteor showers and land on different planets and fight aliens. It was great. We had the best scores, no one could beat us.”

“Actually, I had the best scores,” John corrected him.

“No way, it was a team effort, we played that together every night after I got home from school.”

Virgil chuckled.

“What?” Alan looked confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“I may have taken the batteries out of your controller and just let you think you were playing.” John admitted.

“What! That was one of my greatest achievements in life!”

“Alan, you went into space when you were thirteen,” John pointed out.

“Oh yeah!”

Virgil spotted a book and picked it up. “I haven’t seen this since we were little.”

“Oh, I remember that one,” Scott smiled. “Mom had it when she was small and she used to read it to us every thanksgiving.”

John was busy sifting through the pile. “Hey, my first star globe, why do you have this?”

“Remember when I used to get upset when Dad went away? Well you used to point out all the different stars to me on it and where the moon was near them.”

“Oh yeah,” John smiled, “I remember that, I let you borrow it to keep beside your bed so you could see where Dad was every night.”

“That’s my old teddy bear,” Scott smiled, picking it up and sitting it on his lap. “I left him with you when I went to college.”

“I know, I told you that I was too old to have a plushie in my room but you insisted. I passed him on to Alan and when we moved I guess he got packed up with my things.”

“That’s the children’s guitar that Mom taught us to play,” Virgil picked it up and strummed a few cords but the tuning was terrible.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Alan said quietly. “In fact, I don’t remember much of any of this stuff.” He gestured to the pile of things that still remained scattered on the table top. “I don’t know that pencil sharpener, that snow globe or those shell bracelets, I don’t know any of it.”

“Neither do I,” I reminded him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t have any memories of them so they don’t mean anything to me.”

“But that’s what’s so great about things and why I keep telling your brother that not everything has to have a use all the time. Things are there to remind us of the good times, just the sight of them can conjure up images, but they are also there to encourage us to share those memories. I used to love looking through my Nan and Grandad’s cupboards because I discovered so many things that were interesting,” I told him. “I’d ask them about them and they would tell me where they got them or who they belonged to before they got them and it was so nice to see the joy that the memories brought them. Pick something and ask about them, let’s share memories.”

Slowly Alan reached out to touch the small pile of shell bracelets.

“Where did these come from?”

“We were on a trip to the beach,” Scott started.

“Gordon was running all over picking up little shells and bringing them back to Mom,” Virgil continued.

“She ended up with a huge pile of them,” John laughed. “But Gordon didn't want her to put them back.”

“She ended up asking Dad to drill a tiny hole through each of them and she made them into bracelets for us as a reminder of the vacation,” Scott picked up the story.

“We wore them for a few days but Gordon kept stealing them because he loved the shells,” Virgil added.

“I remember that,” Gordon smiled. “There’s a picture in the album of me wearing them all, I don’t look any older than five.”

Alan picked them up, rubbing one of the shells between thumb and finger. “Why are there five of them?”

“Because Mom was pregnant with you at the time and said that you were there too so you should have a bracelet,” Scott smiled, reaching over to take one. “This was mine.”

One by one the others each claimed a bracelet, leaving Alan with just one.

“You’re right, that’s a nice story to hear,” he admitted, slipping the bracelet over his hand.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” I suggested. “This has been a mad few months, how about we start a new memory box and in ten years time we’ll look back in it and remember the longest vacation ever.”

“Yeah,” Alan nodded. “That could be cool.”

The box slowly filled up with bits and pieces.

Here are some of them.

-Some of our finished colouring pages.

-Gordon’s tablet that hadn’t recovered from its unscheduled dip in the bath.

-Brains’s broken glasses and a broken piece of his microscope that fell off of Alan when we played human buckaroo

-A small pile of post-it’s which Scott had used on April fools day to label everything in the lounge.

-The rubber spider John had pranked me with.

-A pair of the bunny ears the boys wore to deliver Easter eggs.

-The empty bottle of ‘Chill Pills’ Scott got for his birthday.

-A selection of our pictionary artwork.

-The beauty blender Virgil ruined on Gordon’s face.

-An empty popcorn bag Alan found stuffed between the couch cushions from one of our many movie nights.

-One of Scott’s socks that hadn’t been found before.

-A gaudy necklace from our lip sync battle

-A clue list from our scavenger hunt

-A shell I picked up on the beach the day they taught me to surf.

-The evil Furby

-The purple wig we made John wear (he was very glad to donate it to the memory box)

“OK, so, we don’t take anything out but we can add more for as long as isolation goes on?” Alan confirmed.

“Yep,” I nodded. “Who’s going to be in charge of keeping it safe?”

“Gordon should,” Alan said. “Since he seems to be the keeper of everyone’s things.”

“Even without permission,” John muttered, tucking his pen into his pocket in case it went walkies again.

“Actually,” Gordon said, “I think Alan should look after it for us.”

“Really? You mean that?” Alan grinned.

“Sure, kiddo,” Scott agreed. “After all, they’re your memories too

[nerdinreview]

“WandaVision In Review”

The first of many Marvel Disney+ shows has just recently concluded.  With fan theories running rampant, and twists and turns during almost every episode, it isn’t surprising that WandaVision was so successful.  However, the show is not without its own issues as nothing can ever be quite perfect.  Below is our spoiler-filled review of WandaVision.

My first impression when watching the early (first two) episodes of WandaVision was confusion.  I had a hard time trying to determine why Disney and Marvel would take us on a nostalgia tour through classic television series featuring two underserved and underutilized Avengers.  I have to admit, I wasn’t overly invested in the project in the beginning.  I enjoyed the references to The Dick Van Dyke Show and Bewitched, but I honestly didn’t care much for it past that point.  Despite this, I kept watching for curiosity’s sake, and it certainly paid off.

When it becomes clear that Wanda is more in control of this reality than was initially assumed, I was hooked.  I’m a big fan of Wanda Maximoff as a character.  In the comics she has been a force to be reckoned with and the Marvel Cinematic Universe hadn’t seized the opportunity to really utilize her until this point.  It was exciting to see Wanda use her powers in a way we hadn’t gotten to see on screen before, and the ending definitely implies that this is just the tip of the iceberg for her.

As someone who has been critical of Vision in both comics and film, I have to say that this did wonders for his character as well.  We finally get to see a more “human” side of the synthezoid.  That said, it’s hard to determine how real this side of him was, as he’s technically a manifestation of Wanda’s grief.  At the very least, we get to see Vision as Wanda saw him, which is almost beautiful in its own right.

As mentioned above, some of the best content to come out of WandaVision is the character development.  While the two titular characters had the most development, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the other characters who stuck out.  The first of which is Monica Rambeau.  The last time we saw this character she was a child in Captain Marvel, and while she may have been dreaming for the stars, she had a lot of growing up to do before she became the version of her we see in the show.

Monica was another bright spot in the show, she was fearless, and certainly didn’t back away from a challenge.  She, similarly to Wanda, is dealing with grief.  Losing her mother in addition to the last five years of her life, would be maddening to anyone, yet Monica jumps right back in to work at SWORD, and is often the voice of reason throughout the series. It was also incredibly exciting to see Monica get her powers after being exposed to the boundaries of Wanda’s “hex” three separate times.  We even got to see her powers in action, first being able to withstand Wanda’s attack to get her to leave the neighborhood again, and then being literally bulletproof in the finale.  I don’t think I need to go too deeply into the significance of the MCU literally giving us a bulletproof black female superhero! It was amazing, seeing her protect Billy and Tommy, while also being impervious to Hayward’s attack.  It was a powerful scene that only highlighted Monica’s character even more.

 However, what impressed me most about this character was her empathy to Wanda.  No one would have been overly critical of Monica if she had taken Hayward’s side.  After all, she too was held hostage by Wanda and forced to play a role in Wanda’s show. The experience was even described as “excruciating,” in Hayward’s retelling of Monica’s experience, and yet Monica is unyielding in her opinion that Wanda is not doing this maliciously.  In fact, she willingly exposes herself back into the “hex” despite knowing that it is quite literally altering her DNA, with unknown side effects.  This was something that Jimmy Woo wasn’t even willing to expose himself to once.  During his first scene in the show, he says he doesn’t enter the town because he can “feel” that they’re not supposed to go inside.  He stays true to that throughout the series, only entering Westview when Wanda breaks down the “hex” during the final episode.

As mentioned previously, Jimmy Woo was another character we got to see develop a bit since his Ant-Man and the Wasp appearance.  He and Thor’s Darcy Lewis, were oftentimes the comic relief in the show when things got heavier.  However, we got to see a side of Jimmy Woo’s character that we hadn’t seen before.  While he was appreciated in Ant-Man and the Wasp, he was often at odds with Scott Lang as he was assigned to make sure that Scott was following his house arrest.  It was refreshing to see Jimmy defy Hayward and fight back, being a key role in thwarting his escape.

It was nice to see Darcy Lewis get in on the action as well.  In the Thor franchise she was often comic relief but rarely in the spotlight during action scenes.  While she still didn’t do much fighting in WandaVision it was refreshing to see her stop Hayward with her stolen truck, and have her be the leading expert during SWORD’s investigation of Wanda.  It was particularly exciting to see that she has earned her doctorate, so she is no longer Jane’s intern, and isn’t playing second fiddle to Jane Foster or Erik Selvig.

Finally, Kathryn Han’s Agatha Harkness is also deserving of praise.  With the exception of a few of the films, Marvel has had a bit of an issue with giving fans villains that were worthy adversaries to their favorite heroes.  This was not the case with Agatha Harkness.  Seeing her toy with Wanda throughout the series was a highlight of the show and seeing her be a full fledged witch was equally as exciting.  While Wanda defeated her in the finale, they certainly left the door open for Agatha to return, and I certainly hope they find a way to incorporate her in the future.

While I have mostly praised WandaVision, I have to mention some of the negatives as well.  Overall, I greatly enjoyed the show, there are still a few points that I took issue with.  The first of which is Maria Rambeau.  Maria Rambeau was last seen in the Captain Marvel film and had become a bit of a fan favorite.  She was a pilot, similar to Carol Danvers before gaining powers from the Space Stone, single mother, and according to WandaVision the eventual director of SWORD, yet she is killed off-screen from cancer.  

While this is frustrating for a number of reasons, I was particularly miffed because Marvel still has a long way to go in terms of diversity in their films, and to kill off one of your few female black characters off screen left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth.  That’s without getting too deep into the fact that many fans were hopeful that Maria and Carol might have a romantic relationship in the sequel, and this all but confirms that won’t be the case. This adds another layer to the fact that Marvel has yet to have an LGBTQ+ hero in the films.

Additionally, the Marvel films have always handled Wanda and Pietro’s Romani roots poorly.  Not only are the actors not of Romani descent, the culture of their characters is often used as a prop or a joke.  Specifically, Wanda’s costume in the Halloween episode being referred to as a “fortune teller.” 

Additionally, having the twins willing join Hydra--a Nazi organization while having Romani and Jewish roots, through their father Erik Lehnsherr, in the comics has always rubbed me the wrong way.  WandaVision had an opportunity to remedy that when Wanda is reliving her past.  They could have easily given us a one off line about Wanda and Pietro not knowing that it was Hydra when they signed up to be experimented on and didn’t find out until later.  Unfortunately, all we get is a line about the twins wanting to “change the world.”

One of the other issues that I took was the presence of Evan Peters’s Quicksilver.  Initially, I was very excited to see him show up on the show and hoped that this meant we’d be seeing more of Fox’s X-Men in future Marvel films. Not only was he not the real Quicksilver, but he was instead just a long running “boner” joke, as he was Ralph Bohner, Wanda and Vision’s next door neighbor that Agatha was controlling.  While I wasn’t expecting him to be a huge character,  I was hoping for something a bit more significant than Ralph Bohner.

Finally, something that has been sticking out in my head for a while is Jimmy Woo’s missing person.  Jimmy Woo mentions in his first scene that Quantico had sent him to investigate a missing person in witness protection, who lived in Westview.  Initially, this was who I believed Evan Peters’s character to truly be, yet when Jimmy sees him on screen in the All New Halloween Spectacular episode, he just makes a note that Pietro has “the wrong face,” and doesn’t indicate that he recognizes him.  In fact, Jimmy’s missing person is never mentioned again later in the season and it seems as though that was just a plot device used to include him in the show.

Overall, I greatly enjoyed WandaVision.  It was refreshing to have Marvel be able to spend six hours to devote to character development and plot rather than it just being action-centric.  I think the show was an excellent first step in setting up a post-Iron Man Cinematic Universe.  After Avengers: Endgame, so many characters were lost, and it felt like a finale of sorts.  I think this was a great way to continue the story with a whisper rather than a bang, and I look forward to their upcoming Disney+ content.

WandaVision is currently streaming on Disney+.

[zdbztumble]

“Jewel of the Seven Pokemon!” Chapter IV

The writing’s slowed down more than I would’ve liked - this is an insane time of year to be me - but we’re still more-or-less on schedule for Halloween. Who’s ready for some battle action?

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III

FF.Net

AO3

---

The drawing room wasn’t the only set in the soundstage, though it was the largest. All the sets related to the mansion of Jewel of the Seven Pokémon were housed here; the bedrooms, the attic, the kitchens. The production design on all of them was delectable, and under other circumstances, Cilan would have loved to pour over them in detail. At the moment, however, the only thing he was looking out for was any sign of a Cofagrigus, and none was forthcoming.

We really should look into more Pokédexes for our little group, Cilan thought, not for the first time. Not that he needed the encyclopedia’s entry on Cofagrigus to tell him anything, but its scan function might be helpful in detecting their presence. Left to what the naked eye could perceive, all he could discern from the corner of the bedroom set he was inspecting was that the art department deserved commendations for their choice in authentic period bedspreads. Cilan was sure Misty wasn’t having any better luck rummaging through the cabinets behind him. She was really quite good at ratiocination, considering that Oshawott never left her arms and kept trying to claim her attention through hugs, cuddling, and tricks with his shell.

She wasn’t much better than Ash and Iris for patience, though. “Why don’t we just go outside and wait for Ash?” he heard her groan. Cilan didn’t even look up from under the bed, but raised a hand and waved off the notion.

“A detective must make a thorough examination of a crime scene,” he said. “The smallest detail may lead to a critical deduction. Leave no stone unturned, and no tool unused.” He held his magnifying glass to a strange mark on the bedpost; a bit of glue residue, as it turned out.

“Well, I’ve already deduced what tools we’ll need,” said Misty.

“Oh?” Cilan sat up. “And what might – where on earth did those come from!?” His partner was standing in the middle of the room, beaming, with a gold talisman around her neck, a ceremonial teapot in one hand, and Oshawott holding what appeared to be a scroll of papyrus in the other.

“They’re to ward off the spirit of the jewel,” Misty explained. “Here’s tana leaf tea, a talisman from the lost civilization Cofagrigus are supposed to come from, and the Scroll of Life! That one’s just a prop, but all the hieroglyphics on it are authentic.”

It took a lot for Cilan to choke down all the retorts such superstition deserved. She’s more helpful than Mr. Hampton, he reminded himself. The director had – as best as Cilan could understand him – volunteered to serve as a look-out from the drawing room set, then promptly slapped on a pair of headphones and started head-banging to rock music.

“I think we can move on now,” Cilan finally said, beckoning for Misty to follow as he moved behind the set. On an initial glance, the only thing back here was the generator for the soundstage, but it was the one place they hadn’t looked yet.

“You know,” Misty said as they walked, “you wouldn’t be so skeptical if you saw some of the things I have.”

“I suppose that’s a stronger argument than Iris’s ‘sixth sense,’” Cilan replied. “But I repeat – any supernatural event has a scientific explanation, and given the facts we do have, that explanation is likely to be misdeeds by the seven Cofagrigus. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve encountered mischievous Ghost-types.”

“So what’s your scientific explanation for them?” Misty asked, her voice dripping with a sour smugness. Cilan tripped at the question, only just managing to keep on his feet. It was a common comeback to supernatural skepticism, and Cilan despised it – an utterly fallacious, tasteless statement. Of course there was a scientific explanation for Ghost-types! They were a type of Pokémon, after all. Yes, a very simple explanation would suffice for them. And as soon as I think of what it is, I shall return to that subject, Cilan vowed, and kept on walking.

“You traveled with Ash through two regions, didn’t you?” he asked, just to make conversation.

“Three regions,” said Misty. “Actually, I only stopped because I needed to take over the Gym for my sisters.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. It all worked out for the best, but the day we found out, I was so upset that – ”

There was an unpleasant zap sound, a harsh flare from the work lights, and then black, a total and encompassing black thanks to the soundstage’s lack of windows. “Ah – t-the generator must have b-blown a f-f-fuse,” Cilan stammered, embarrassed by how weak his voice sounded. There was a good reason for the cut-out, surely. Of course, they were quite close to the generator when the lights failed, and there was no sign of anything wrong with it…

“W-Well, w-we were already in the d-d-dark about the case.” Misty’s voice was somewhere between a stutter and a giggle. Oshawott was whimpering, and Cilan felt them brush against his left. “D-don’t worry,” said Misty, her voice strengthening a little. “I’ve got this. Go, my steady!” The flash of a Poké Ball went off. It wasn’t long enough for Cilan to get a good look at the Pokémon, but he could tell it was massive. He hoped it didn’t damage any of the sets.

“Flamethrower, Gyarados!” Misty commanded. “We need some light!” The Pokémon gave a low, agreeable grunt, and a steady stream of flame appeared high above them. It was just enough to illuminate themselves, the generator on the wall, and Gyarados itself.

“What an incredible taste,” Cilan whispered. Even under the circumstances, he couldn’t help but admire Misty’s Pokémon. “We don’t see many Gyarados in Unova. And to have taught it Flamethrower!”

“Not bad, huh?” Misty winked. “But just wait until you see this – Misty calls Starmie!”

“Hyah!” The Mysterious Pokémon seemed to know what its Trainer wanted as soon as it appeared. It took a position, lit up its jewel, and shot a Thunderbolt into the generator. A moment later, the work lights were back up. Misty stood proud with her Pokémon on either side (and Oshawott pouting in her arms.) Gyarados was smiling as well as it could, and even without a face, Starmie gave of the unmistakable taste of pleasure at a well-done Attack. Exquisite! thought Cilan. He wasn’t a stranger to type specialists or to unorthodox move sets, but Misty had achieved something unique with her Water-types. “I have a brother who would fall head over heels for you,” he told her.

Misty laughed and ran a hand through her ponytail. “Of course, the world’s greatest beauty is flattered –”

“Osha?” Oshawott squeaked. He looked up at Misty with big, watery eyes and trembling lip. Misty smiled down at him, pulled him into a tight hug, and nuzzled his face with her cheek. “But you’ll just have to tell your brother I’m taken,” she giggled.

“I see,” Cilan laughed. “But Pikachu is quite taken with you too.”

“It’s a price to pay for being cute.” Misty winked, then gave a small, rather staged shudder. “Even one of Ash’s Bug Pokémon liked me.”

A third one of Ash’s, is it? Cilan tapped his chin with his magnifying glass. While it was a common claim that Pokémon could reflect the feelings of their Trainers, that wasn’t universally true, or a surefire insight into anything. But it was impossible not to notice a certain playful dynamic between Ash and this oldest friend of his. Ash and Iris had their banter and bickering, of course, but not in degree or in kind. This is Ash I’m thinking of, Cilan reminded himself. But perhaps…even if it’s only on her end…

“Misty,” he said. “If you don’t mind my asking – when you call Ash your ‘best friend,’ does that really mean ‘boyfriend?’”

It was a miracle that Oshawott and the supposed curse repellents didn’t go flying. Misty shivered, spun around on one foot, and then went stiff as a board, a furious blush across her cheeks and nose. “W-W-What g-gave you th-that idea!?” she shrieked.

Take your pick. Cilan grinned and tilted his cap to the side. “Well, well…what a curious flavor this is!”

“I – I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Misty insisted. Her blush grew even stronger. “It’s ridiculous, to think that I’d ever…do you hear that?”

“Really, Misty, you’ll have to better than that to avoid your –”

“No, really!” she hissed. “Listen!”

She was right; the whirring sound was back. Above them, to either side around them; even right in front of them, where the generator and a solid wall stood, it seemed to come in all directions except below. And the last time the sound came, there soon followed –

“COFA!” Misty’s tools did scatter that time, as she scurried away from the Cofagrigus emerging from the wall. Cofagrigus plural – there were now three of them. Each had a Will-O-Wisp prepared in one set of hands, while the other reached out with unfriendly fingers.

Misty looked over at Cilan and grinned. “If you battle the way you talk, we’ll be here all day,” she joked. It was quite the change from her nerves when the blackout first came, but Cilan could understand; actually having a foe to face made it easier to feel brave. He gave her a wink back and drew a Poké Ball.

“You forget – you’re not the only Gym Leader here,” he said. “Go forth, my precious Stunfisk!”

“Right!” Misty pumped a fist. “And us too! Gyarados, Starmie, use –”

“Oshawott!” Ash’s Pokémon jumped down from Misty’s arms and ran up in front of the Cofagrigus, paws on his hips and head held high. He spared a moment to look back and wave at Misty, then moved into a battle position. Misty and her Pokémon looked baffled; Cilan shared an incredulous look with Stunfisk.

“Osha!” Oshawott hurled a Razor Shell at the Cofagrigus on his right. He shot Water Gun at the one on his left. And he charged with Tackle at the one right in front of him. The right Cofagrigus dodged the Razor Shell, the left took the Water Gun with little issue, and the center Cofagrigus, being a Ghost-type, felt nothing from the Tackle. Oshawott bounced right off it and landed on his back. He sat up, blinked twice, and took a long look at the Cofagrigus – all of them slowly advancing, Will-O-Wisp still in their hands – before recovering his shell and retreating behind Misty’s leg.

“So that’s what Ash meant,” Misty sighed. “It’s OK, Oshawott. We’ll take care of this. Waterfall, Starmie! And Gyarados, Crunch that one on the left!”

“Mud Bomb, Stunfisk!” Cilan ordered. “Blind them all!”

All three Pokémon moved to carry out their Attacks. Starmie spun to the left, Gyarados reared up as high as he could in the stage, and Stunfisk flattened himself down to the ground. But before any Attacks were let loose, the Cofagrigus on both ends burst open. Out from their bodies emerged two human figures with slick hair, crooked glasses, and business suits barely visible underneath reams of bandages.

“Who are they?” said Misty.

“They must be the missing producers Sir Bela mentioned,” said Cilan. “Anyone who gets too close to a Cofagrigus…”

“…Gets turned into a mummy!” The mummies before them said nothing, but ambled slowly from the bodies of the Cofagrigus. As soon as they cleared the lids, the Pokémon closed back up and their red eyes lit up. A faint blue light surrounded the mummies, and they lifted off the ground, floating in between the Cofagrigus and Cilan and Misty’s Pokémon. They were being used as shields.

“That’s no fair!” Misty growled. “Let them go and fight us yourselves!” The Cofagrigus all gave nasty snickers that stood the hair up on the back of Cilan’s neck. They threw their fire-filled hands forward, and their Will-O-Wisps combined and formed a spinning ring of fire around Cilan, Misty, and Oshawott. The flames were so large and so fast that there was no hope of jumping or dodging through or around them, but that wasn’t much of an obstacle. Even if Misty weren’t at his side with Water Pokémon, Cilan had his Stunfisk. All he had to do was call out for Water Gun, and –

The Cofagrigus on the left moved first. Keeping its mummy between itself and Misty’s Pokémon, it rushed Stunfisk with Energy Ball. Just one hit left Stunfisk down for the count. The second Cofagrigus moved on Starmie, with Ominous Wind. The Mysterious Pokémon was thrown into the back of the bedroom set. Its jewel didn’t go out, but it was clearly damaged. The one Cofagrigus without a mummy flew right up to Gyarados’s face, performed Astonish, and circled around as the Atrocious Pokémon flinched.

“It’s headed for the drawing room set!” Misty shouted. “Mr. Hampton! Oshawott, you need to put these flames out!” Ash’s Pokémon was still holding on to her leg, with his head turned into it. On Misty’s words, however, he slowly let go, waddled out, and used his Water Gun on the Will-O-Wisp. Besides dousing the fire, it created a thick, humid mist that engulfed the remaining Cofagrigus and their mummies. Misty scooped Oshawott up and led the retreat. She recalled Starmie as she ran; Cilan did the same with Stunfisk. A roar and a tremor in the ground told him that Gyarados was close behind them.

They found Mr. Hampton right where they’d left him, in his director’s chair with terrible posture while listening to music. His sketchpad and pen were back out, and he was drawing in large, sweeping motions as if keeping tempo with the music in his headphones.

“Mr. Hampton!” Misty cried, waving her arms to try and claim his attention. “The Cofagrigus are here!” The director looked up, gave a quick wave of his own, and turned back to his drawing.

The Cofagrigus materialized directly above him. Its body opened wide, slammed down upon Mr. Hampton, and snapped shut, spitting the chair, headphones, and sketchpad out. The Coffin Pokémon rattled about violently, fell to the floor, and rolled around the set. Cilan had never seen, nor knew no one who had, a Cofagrigus mummify a person; it hadn’t occurred to him that they could resist from the inside. He started towards the shaking casket. If Mr. Hampton can hold out long enough, and if we can reach him…

The lid swung open again, and Mr. Hampton lurched out, covered from head to foot in black, rotting bandages. The glow of Psychic surrounded him, and he was raised up before Gyarados could make a move. The other two Cofagrigus, and their mummy shields, appeared from the sides, circling around Cilan and Misty to line up with the other, but they kept spread out enough to prevent an easy flanking. It was a difficult and bitter taste they presented, and Cilan couldn’t see a ready way to sweeten the situation.

“Could Gyarados make it past the mummies?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Misty muttered back. “He would never mean to hurt them, but there’s so little space here, and they’re so fast.” Gyarados gave out a low, frustrated growl. The Cofagrigus laughed again, floated up above them with their mummy shields, and began to form Shadow Balls in their four hands each. With them up in the air, the view of the far wall was clear, and Cilan saw the controls for the loading door.

“Recall Gyarados,” he urged Misty.

“What!?” she hissed.

“For now,” he said. “We need to get out into the open. Recall Gyarados and have Oshawott distract them.” He jerked his head in the direction of the controls, as subtly as he could. Misty’s eyes flicked over that way. She bit her lip, but she nodded, and slowly bent down to pick up a trembling Oshawott and whisper into his ear. He shivered, but when he looked up into Misty’s eyes, he took a breath and nodded himself.

“On my signal,” Cilan whispered. “Three…two…one…”

The middle Cofagrigus swept down toward them, dipping just below his mummy shield. Misty held Oshawott up high, and he fired a Hydro Pump that caught the bottom of the Cofagrigus’s body. Oshawott leapt up and spun around, his Attack drenching mummy and Pokémon. No damage was done, but the distraction was just what they needed. Misty recalled Gyarados to his ball, and Cilan made a dash for the controls.

***

I know we get lost all the time, but how did we get lost on a movie set!?

Ash had been asking himself that for the past fifteen minutes, and he still didn’t have an answer. There were so many twists, turns, drops, and slopes in the cave set that it was hard to understand why the film wasn’t just using a real cave. Mr. Christopher said it was built in a stage with a big water tank, where lots of famous musicals had been shot, and it was drained now so that the cave sets could go downhill and underground. That was pretty cool. And unlike the other stage, all the movie lights were still around for the cave, and they were on, so the set really was a dark, spooky cavern with shafts of pale light and a few red lamps rigged up by the characters in the film. But that just made it harder to get around in the set.

Another thing that didn’t help was that, instead of helping Ash and Pikachu find the right way around, Iris kept trying to get Mr. Christopher to talk about that Dragon Squad from the war he was in. “Did they have Druddigons?” she asked, hovering at his elbow. “What about Noivern? You said you were stationed in Kalos – there had to be Noiverns, right? Did you ride any Noiverns?”

“There were, and I did,” said Mr. Christopher. After everything he’d been asked throughout the day, he was finally starting to sound impatient. “But I’ve told you, young lady, that I was not a member of the Dragon Squad, only attached to them at times throughout the war.”

Iris frowned and put her hands on her hips. “What’s the difference?” she asked.

Mr. Christopher banged the bottom of his cane on the floor. “It means I didn’t have the eyesight to be a proper dragon rider,” he snapped. “I served as an intelligence officer for the GAF, and as I’m gifted in languages and connections all over the world, particularly in Kalos, I was seconded to units like the Dragon Squad to assist with –”

“Wait – intelligence officer?” Ash spun around. “I know what that means – that’s spy stuff, right?” Those were some of Ash’s favorite movies – the big action films with gadgets, secret agents, and crazy Pokémon battles. He’d met a few people who were into that kind of work in his travels, but it was always amazing to hear more about it. “Did you go on any secret missions?” he asked Mr. Christopher. “Did you use your Dark Pokémon to steal messages and sneak around enemy lines?”

“Did you fly any Dragon Pokémon on your secret missions?” Iris asked. Axew was sticking out of her hair, eyes wide, and Ash could feel Pikachu’s toes curling with excitement on his shoulder.

Mr. Christopher let out a long sigh, looked both ways, and leaned down. “Can you keep a secret?” he whispered.

“Yes!” Ash and Iris hissed back. They were both on their toes, and Ash balled up his hands into fists. Mr. Christopher raised up one hand, his index finger held high.

“So can I,” he said simply. Iris slapped a hand over her face and fell over, and Ash fell right beside her. “Now may we please get on with this – this – is that whirring sound back again?”

“Huh?” Ash pushed himself back onto his feet. “Yeah…yeah, it is.” It wasn’t the same as in the other stage, though. The noise was still muffled, but it was definitely coming from just one direction, straight ahead. “C’mon, Pikachu,” Ash whispered. “Let’s check it out.”

They tiptoed down the path. The gaps in the plaster rocks that let in “moonlight” disappeared the further they went; everything they could see was from the red glow of the lamps. The path ended in a solid wall of rock, but Ash could just make out, about seven feet above his head, an opening rimmed in red light. The whirring sound was strongest just below it, and Ash could hear another sound – a soft, steady chant of “cofa, cofa, cofa.”

That’s gotta be it, thought Ash. I could get the drop on them if I could figure out how to get up there. Let’s see…Snivy has Vine Whip. She could pull us up, but I don’t see anything she could grab onto to pull herself up. But maybe – “OW! Iris, what are you doing!?”

“Shh! You want them to hear us? Now hold still.” Iris pushed down hard on the back of Ash’s head, put a foot on his back, and pushed herself up until she was standing on his shoulders. Pikachu snapped at being knocked aside, and Ash bit down hard on his tongue to keep from shouting. His knees started to shake, and he put a hand on the rock wall to keep himself steady.

“This isn’t fair,” he hissed. “I want to see too!”

“Quiet!” Iris tapped the side of his face with her foot. “There’s three of them. The Cofagrigus – they’re all together, circling around something. I can’t see what.”

“It must be the jewel.” Mr. Christopher came up beside them. Even at his height, he couldn’t quite see into the opening, but he released Shedinja, who floated up to be level with Iris’s head. “That part of the set is where the ceremony is conducted in the story. There should be an opening in the top, with a light to represent the star that awakens the sprit inside the jewel.”

“I see it,” Iris reported. “And it’s not just the lamps making that light – the thing they’re circling is glowing red too.”

“Are there any signs of Bisharp?” asked Mr. Christopher. “Or any other Pokémon?”

Is there any sign of a way up? Ash wanted to shout. I can’t hold on much longer…

“No…and I can’t see anything that would be making that sound – HEY!” Ash couldn’t keep steady. He stumbled forward, fell on his face, and winced as Iris landed on his back. “Ash!” she snapped, poking between his shoulders. “I was trying to see what’s going on!”

“Well, I’m not a ladder!” Ash hissed back. “Or a chair, so get off!”

“You are such a kid!”

“I am not!”

“You are too!”

“Quiet!” Mr. Christopher’s voice was quiet, but that somehow made its anger even clearer. Ash bit down his next comeback, and Iris rolled off him. Mr. Christopher gave them a cool look, then pointed to the opening with his cane. “Shedinja, I want you to slip inside there and have a good look around. Stay invisible and keep to the shadows. See if you can find where that sound is coming from, but most of all, look out for any sign of Bisharp.”

“Shedinja.” The Shed Pokémon gave a nod with its entire body, then vanished. Ash shook his head and sat upright, Pikachu claiming a spot in his lap. I guess this counts as spy stuff, he thought as he scratched Pikachu’s head. It would’ve been nice to be able to see what Shedinja was up to, but it was still cool. I wonder if Mr. Christopher had Shedinja in that war he keeps talking about? He said it wasn’t an actor Pokémon. That probably wouldn’t matter to Misty, though; she’d still be scared of it.

Ash wondered how Misty’s search with Cilan was going. She knew more about all this stuff, and Cilan was…well, Cilan. If they didn’t have the whole mystery solved by the time everyone met up outside, then they’d at least have a clue or two. If they don’t get caught up in all their movie talk, anyway. I’ll probably have to go see this movie with one of them, if it ever gets finished. Ash still couldn’t get over that ending Misty told him. How was it supposed to be romantic if, at the end, the heroine ended up –

It came up from the floor, without a sound. The Cofagrigus threw its four arms out, seized Iris, and threw her into its open body before she could even scream.

“Hey!” Ash sprang to his feet and caught the lid of the Cofagrigus before it closed completely. “Give back my friend!” Pikachu cried out and grabbed the lid as well, from the base. Together they pulled as hard as they could, but the body was straining against them, heavy as a rock, and slick in Ash’s grip. He could hear Iris banging and kicking on the inside. “Don’t worry, Iris!” Ash grunted. “We’ve got ya…”

“HERE!” Mr. Christopher moved fast for an old guy. He spun his cane around and swung the silver Zacian head so that it caught between the lid and the body. He pulled back on the stick like a lever, and the Cofagrigus started to open up –

“COFA!”

Three loud cries all sounded together, and something small and hard flew from the cave opening into Mr. Christopher’s chest. It was Shedinja, out cold. The three Cofagrigus who had been circling the jewel floated in from the opening, each with a Shadow Ball ready. The one on the left hurled the Attack at Ash, catching him low in the stomach. It was like winter air made into a solid ball, with all the cold soaking inside him. He fell and rolled back until he hit the side wall. Pikachu was small enough that the Shadow Ball struck his entire body, and he slammed right above Ash. Mr. Christopher managed to dodge the last one, but he had to let go of the cane, which did take the Attack and spun through the air until it struck Ash on top of his head.

The Cofagrigus they’d tried to open slammed all the way shut. Its three fellow Coffin Pokémon circled around it, facing outward, with another set of Shadow Balls ready. Ash could see the middle Cofagrigus thrashing around, and he could hear Iris’s muffled yelling. But he could still hear the whirring sound too, an awful mechanical whish-whish-whish-whish, and it was spreading to fill the whole set…

The three guard Cofagrigus floated up and out, and the one in the center swung open. Iris stumbled out, her arms outstretched, her half-shut eyes rolled back in her head. There were bandages wrapped around her from head to toe. Axew was sticking out of her hair; he was wrapped up too, with the same rolled eyes.

“Iris!” Ash moved towards her, but a hand took him firmly by the elbow and pulled him back.

“We have to get outside!” barked Mr. Christopher, as he recalled Shedinja. “We need light and space to fight them!” Ash didn’t want to run, or leave his friend, but he couldn’t argue either. He scooped up Pikachu, gave Mr. Christopher his cane, and followed him down the path.

The Cofagrigus and the Iris-mummy were following – Ash could hear their awful laughter, and Iris’s moaning – but he didn’t look back. Now that they were being chased, Mr. Christopher seemed to know the way around the cave set. They went left, right, left again, up, down, around an arc and through a tunnel. A Shadow Ball went past Ash’s shoulder and just missed Mr. Christopher. A nasty howling sound came with a sudden breeze that nearly took Ash’s hat off – Ominous Wind, it had to be. The set lights started to flicker on and off. “I don’t even want to see this movie,” Ash muttered. “How’d I end up in it!?”

Another left, another right, another right again, and up a sloping path. There were more Shadow Balls, and a spit of blue flame that nearly caught Pikachu’s tail; one of these Cofagrigus knew Will-O-Wisp. The laughing and moaning were getting closer, the whirring sound louder. They couldn’t make it – they weren’t going to make it –

“A-ha!” the sunlight hit Ash like a slap in the face, but Mr. Christopher took his arm again and pulled him through the side door. They spun around to face the stage (a little too quickly; Ash felt dizzy) but instead of following them outside, the Cofagrigus just laughed again and pulled the door shut.

“Hey, what are they up to!?” Ash yelled. “Give back Iris, you creeps! We’ve got to save my friend, Mr. Christopher!”

“Let’s find your other friends first,” he said. His hand was gripping his cane tightly, and his breathing was heavy; all that running must have taken a lot out of him. “They should be out here by now.”

Ash looked all around. “I don’t see them. You don’t think –”

“CRUNCH, GYARADOS!”

They came from around the far end of the stage, down the alleyway. Ash slumped down onto one knee, and Pikachu had to push his jaw shut. He couldn’t help it, though; seeing three Cofagrigus, with mummies floating around them, making a quick retreat from a snarling, slithering Gyarados with Misty, Cilan, and Oshawott on its back, was just too weird.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Possessed: a Jacksepticeye Fan Fiction

Previous | Next

Part Three: Broken Homes

(Originally, this was going to be the last part, but it got much too long, so there should be one more)

Summary: The boys deal with the aftermath of Halloween night, and make a plan for the next day.

Warning, things get kinda upsetting in the first paragraph. Graphic description of stabbing and death. Skip if you’re sensitive.

The blood splattered on the floor, soaking easily into the rug. The victim choked, arms flailing weakly, trying to somehow staunch the flow from the wound on his neck. He’d only live a few moments more, but that was plenty of time to be in unimaginable pain. The killer dragged his knife along the victim’s stomach, splitting it open. The victim couldn’t scream, and only made a few small noises.The killer laughed hoarsely. He raised the knife and drove it into the victim’s chest. Then again. And again. Seven times he stabbed, the victim unable to stop him. But the killer was just as helpless. In his mind, he screamed over and over, silently begging the thing controlling him to stop, to put down the knife. But the thing only laughed, mocking him for being so weak, so powerless. He could do something, but instead he’s just watching it happen. If you want to stop it so badly, then do something. Cry out, call for help, scream in despair, say something, say anything, but you can’t, you can only watch...

Jameson jerked awake, breathing heavy. A nightmare. It was only a nightmare. But also a memory.

Sitting up, JJ tried to remember where he was. Sun was streaming through open windows. Everything was...clear. Much clearer than it had been for a long, long time. The events of the previous night suddenly came crashing down, bringing mixed emotions flooding with them. On the one hand, Jameson was free. Free from Anti’s influence, forever. On the other hand, decades had passed. Everyone he’d known and loved was probably dead. Friends, family, coworkers...

Jameson shook his head. He couldn’t bother these lovely people with all his troubles. What kind of repayment would that be, dumping all his trauma on the ones who’d rescued him? Actually...where were they?

JJ stood up. The screen from the night before—the TV—was turned off. A messy pile of blankets on the floor showed where Marvin had slept. The sound of friendly voices came from a nearby room. JJ wandered over and poked his head through the doorway.

It appeared to be the kitchen/dining room, though more advanced than the ones Jameson knew. The counter was covered in messy bowls and plates, jugs of milk and bottles of orange juice. A sliding glass door led outside to the backyard. Chase, Jackie, and Marvin—wearing the same outfits from the night before—were all present, Chase and Jackie arguing while Marvin sat at the dining table staring at a small black rectangle in his hand.

“I refuse to eat anything with blueberries in it,” Jackie said, folding his arms. “They’re fucking disgusting.”

“But you can’t take the chocolate chips!” Chase gasped. “The kids love them, and I’m almost out!”

“Alright, no chocolate, but keep those filthy little berries out of the batter. I’d rather eat the pancakes plain.”

“Or you could, you know, make two batches,” Marvin jumped in without looking up from the device in his hand.

“We didn’t make enough batter,” Chase explained. “And we don’t have ingredients for more.”

“Jesus Christ, Chase, what does it take to get you to go grocery shopping?” Jackie said, exasperated. “Any longer, and I’ll have to drag you to the shop by your toes.”

Jameson coughed, drawing the attention of everyone else. “Oh, you’re awake!” Jackie said, smiling cheerfully. “Great! Are you hungry? We made pancakes.”

JJ paused, taking in the mess on the kitchen counter. He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we made the batter, at least,” Jackie amended. “Now we’re trying to decide if we want anything in it? D’you have any preferences?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Chase rushed across the room, grabbed a notepad and pencil that was sitting on the table, and threw it to Jameson, who fumbled before catching it.

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” Jackie muttered, embarassed.

Jameson quickly wrote, No, it’s perfectly alright. We met each other just last night, after all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember,” Jackie assured him. “Now, d’you want anything with your pancakes?”

I’ll stick with the plain Jane variety, if you don’t mind.

“Got it.” Jackie turned to Chase and said triumphantly, “That’s two votes for no blueberries! That means we win!”

“I vote for blueberries,” Marvin said, waving his hand.

Jackie turned to him. “Oh, come on! We just reached a decision! Why do you always have to do this?”

“I like to fuck things up,” Marvin shrugged.

“Okay, you know what, we’re making both, we’ll figure it out,” Chase stepped in.

As Jackie and Chase set about making the pancakes, Jameson crossed the room and sat at the dining table, across from Marvin. “Hey, you ever seen a cell phone?” Marvin asked, waving the rectangular device he was holding. JJ shook his head. “It’s cool. Phones can do almost anything nowadays. And you can touch the screen. Check it out.”

Marvin handed the phone over, and watched as Jameson’s expression changed from puzzlement to wonder. “You can tap on the little icons to open shit,” Marvin said. “Not literally, of course. I dunno if that’s what you thought.” JJ tapped the screen a couple times, a small smile crossing his face. It lit up his face, and Marvin couldn’t help but smile back. When he wasn’t scared and traumatized, JJ was a right little ray of sunshine.

But in a split second, everything changed. Jameson’s smile fell, his face went white, and he dropped the phone on the table. “Whoa, what happened?” Marvin picked up the phone. He frowned. “It’s just glitching out a bit. My phone is kinda shitty like that. Are...are you okay?”

Jameson nodded, though he was still pale. Marvin wasn’t fooled at all, but he dropped it, changing the subject. “So, d’you have any idea where you want to stay?” he asked. “I mean, I guess you could crash with Chase for a couple days, but his kids come to visit on the weekends and I dunno if you want to meet them, or whatever. And Jackie’s apartment is pretty small. Have any ideas?”

A confused expression crossed JJ’s face. You didn’t suggest your own home in that list. Is it unavailable?

“No, ah, not exactly.” Marvin laughed nervously. “I guess if you wanna you could stay in my hotel room for a bit, but that’s not a, um, stable location. ‘Cause, you know, I don’t own it.”

If it’s not too rude to ask, why are you staying in a hotel and not your own home?

Before Marvin could answer—or think of a way to dodge the question—the other two provided a distraction. “Flip them now, Chase!” “I know how to make pancakes, discount Spider-Man!” “Not good pancakes! Flip ‘em!”

“Fucking hell, you two, why is cooking the thing that destroys your friendship?” Marvin said, exasperated.

“Who would’ve thought it came down to breakfast?” Chase sighed dramatically. Meanwhile, Jackie took advantage of his distraction to reach over and hurriedly flip the pancakes. “Hey! Don’t think I didn’t see that!” The two of them proceeded to wrestle over the spatula while standing next to a hot griddle.

“None of us are adults,” Marvin shook his head. “JJ, you better have some common sense, ‘cause this group really fucking needs it.”

I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘common sense.’

“Well, you can’t be any worse than the rest of us. Anyway, back to the question. Where d’you want to stay?”

Jameson hesitated, pencil frozen on paper. Then, slowly, This may sound absurd, but I would prefer to go home. My house, that is. I believe you know the place I am talking about.

Marvin frowned. “That...doesn’t sound like a good idea. Actually, it sounds like a terrible idea. A no-good, fucking horrible shitwreck of an idea, for so many reasons I’m gonna have to take a moment to process that you actually said it.”

“Pancakes are ready!” Chase said cheerfully, setting plates on the dining table. The buttery smell filled the room.

“And we got drinks, too,” Jackie added, carefully balancing a stack of glasses while holding a jug of milk and a bottle of orange juice.

“Be careful, Jackie,” Chase said, keeping an eye on the stack. “I don’t want to have broken glass on the floor when the kids come over.”

“Oh yeah, because you’re gonna leave any glass just on the floor for anyone to step on, for two whole days,” Jackie retorted. “Or, you know, like I’m gonna just not clean up my own mess. Anyway, there’s no need to worry, see?” He’d successfully set all four glasses on the table without dropping any.

“Oh hey, Jackie, can you explain to our new friend why it’s a fucking awful idea to go back and live in the old house where the evil creature is probably still lurking?” Marvin asked, overly polite.

Jackie looked at Jameson, puzzled. “Is that really true?”

JJ thought about it, then wrote, I don’t know where else I would go.

“Well, any of us would be happy to take you in,” Jackie assured him. “But if you really want to, I don’t think we can stop you.”

“Wha-what?” Marvin spluttered. “Okay, never mind the malicious, homicidal, supernatural entity. How about the fact that the place is a shithole that’s falling apart with holes in the floor? And there’s no food or place to sleep anywhere?”

“We can make it work,” Jackie said positively. “It can’t be too hard to fix up. And besides, it’s not like we can force Jameson to stay here, can we?”

Marvin looked like he very much wanted to do exactly that. Luckily, Chase saw the warning signs and jumped in with a solution, “Hey, how ‘bout we all go there together and check it out? Then we can see if there’s anything evil there, and how much of a fixer-upper it is.”

Recognizing the line Chase was throwing him, and not wanting to fight with Marvin, Jackie agreed, “That’s a great idea, Chase. And if anything goes wrong, we’ll have each others’ backs. You know, like a team. Eh, Marvin?”

The magician sighed. “Alright, I guess it can’t hurt. But let’s go after breakfast, okay?”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

150 Favourites for 1000 Followers

As promised, to celebrate 1000 followers, here is a list of lists of my favourite things. (Yes, that’s what I meant to say.) I thought about doing 1000 favourite things, but OH MY GOD. It was getting tedious and no one would’ve wanted to read that many, so I just went for a nice, even 150. Cool?

Some categories were my idea, others were requests, all are things I am happy to bond with you over. We’re such a large group now. Let’s not be strangers.

My 5 Favourite...

Disney villains:

Hades

Madam Mim

Scar

Gaston

Captain Hook

Serpent headcanons (requested by @cherylblossom-komwonkru):

Fangs and Sweet Pea live in the same trailer and sleep in a bunk bed

Sweet Pea and Toni were each other’s first kiss

Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea were watchfully accompanied on their scrappy childhood adventures by Hot Dog (think Nana with the Darlings)

F.P. is afraid of needles and had to be held down to get his tattoo

Tall Boy is somehow two Serpent children in a trench coat (don’t ask me for logistics)

Smells:

vinegar

garlic

peaches

hot chocolate

Scotch mints

Fanfics I’ve written:

Sweetwater Boundary: A Riverdale Western

Home Fires Burning

Finally, Finally (The Hunger Games)

It Ain’t Over Easy

Every Minute (Varchie)

‘70s films:

Jaws

Rocky

Alien

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

Riverdale ships (requested by an anon):

Bughead

Archie/Valerie (Valchie? Archerie?)

Rosie (Josie/Reggie)

Choni

Fred/Mary

Cheeses:

Jarlsberg

Havarti

provolone

smoked Gouda

aged cheddar

Riverdale episodes and why (requested by an anon):

1.01 - just a great setup, eerie and atmospheric

1.04 - who doesn’t love a night at the drive-in? Plus the reveal of Jughead’s dad, and Kevin and Joaquin’s kiss

2.02 - retro night at Pop’s was such a fun idea and great nod to the nostalgia the show frequently flirts with. Also my favourite Pussycats performance

2.16 - the Jughead vs. Archie showdown that had SO MUCH POTENTIAL before they decided to resolve it in about five seconds, and Fred’s decision to run for mayor

2.21 - I loved the apocalyptic tone this episode committed to. Utter madness and a total-town riot

20th Century novels:

Rebecca

Islands in the Stream

The Outsiders

The Hours

The Things They Carried

Acts/things/etc. (lol) in smut fics (requested by @theheavycrown)

games

a character becoming clumsy because another character is giving them The Look™

well-described kissing (I like the simple things, ok?)

morning sex

accurate vocalization

Personal holiday traditions:

watching White Christmas every Christmas Eve

carving pop culture jack-o’-lanterns every Halloween (last year, I did Steve Harrington with his bat o’ nails)

childhood Easter egg hunts in my uncle’s yard

Canada Day fireworks at the park during my teen years

everyone being together for Thanksgiving

Quotations between Riverdale couples (requested by an anon):

not an official couple at the time but... Alice [to F.P.]: “Is it true what they say about men who’ve just been released from prison, F.P.? That they’re incredibly sexually frustrated?”

Toni: “I usually do the honors.” Cheryl: “Not today, Cha-Cha. I was born for this moment.”

Hal: “Alice here, she’s been redecorating the Register. The other day, she threw a brick through the window.” Alice: “Keep talking, Hal, and the next brick I throw may not be at a window.” (so maybe not the most loving exchange, but I do adore Alice Cooper)

Archie: “I just wanted to say, what if we made a mistake?” Val: “First of all, we didn’t do anything. I broke up with you because I thought you were a hot mess. Clearly, I was right.” (are you sensing a pattern here?)

Jughead: “I didn’t think you were the American Werewolf kind of girl.” Betty: “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Jughead Jones. I’m all about the beast within.” (I based an entire story off this exchange lol)

Shakespearean plays:

Much Ado about Nothing

Richard III

King Lear

Macbeth

Henry V

‘60s songs:

“Do You Love Me” - The Contours

“I Can See for Miles” - The Who

“Wouldn’t It Be Nice” - The Beach Boys

“Paint it Black” - The Rolling Stones

“Bang Bang” - Nancy Sinatra

Fanfiction tropes (requested by @norhernserpent):

the boy/girl-next-door

enemies to lovers

friends to lovers

falling for the best friend’s sibling

historical AU

Methods for organizing my bookshelves:

book height

continent (based on the story, not the author’s nationality)

year of original publication

hardcover/softcover

genre

Least favourite Riverdale couples, canon and non (requested by an anon):

Chuck and Veronica

Nick and Cheryl

Penelope and Claudius (Really, Penelope? Your child-murdering dead husband’s dastardly identical twin who resurfaces just in time to get a chunk of that Blossom fortune? Ew.)

Polly and Jason

Hiram and Hermione (good characters, terrible marriage)

Items in The Parent Trap (1998):

the luggage set Annie brings to camp

Annie’s tin (containing the torn photograph)

Hallie’s (as Annie) pale blue suit (the great material desire of my childhood)

Annie’s (as Hallie) inner tube

Elizabeth’s second wedding dress

Desserts (requested by @village-skeptic):

pumpkin cheesecake

pumpkin pie

mint chocolate chip ice cream

sticky toffee pudding

raspberry pie

Things to say “no” to:

lite mayonnaise (give me regular or give me death)

department store perfume samples

email subscriptions

having my hair straightened at the hair dresser’s

trips to furniture stores

Roles of actors who also appeared in the Hunger Games series:

Paul Child (Julie and Julia, portrayed by Stanley Tucci)

young Ellie Arroway (Contact, portrayed by Jena Malone)

Mr. Bennett (Pride and Prejudice [2005], portrayed by Donald Sutherland)

Bernard (Westworld, portrayed by Jeffrey Wright)

Laura Brown (The Hours, portrayed by Julianne Moore)

Colours (requested by an anon):

olivey-gold

Kelly green

periwinkle

burgundy

seafoam green

Board games:

Life

Ticket to Ride

Clue

Trivial Pursuit

Scattergories

Canadian novels (because I, myself, am Canadian):

Half-Blood Blues

419

Cockroach

The Book of Negros

The Englishman’s Boy

‘80s songs:

“The Way You Make Me Feel” - Michael Jackson

“Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” - The Police

“Dancing in the Dark” - Bruce Springsteen

“Crimson and Clover” - Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

“Call Me” - Blondie

Over-40 celebrity crushes:

Adrien Brody

Simon Pegg

James Marsden

Oded Fehr

John Cho

Things in “My Favourite Things” from The Sound of Music (let’s get meta):

warm woollen mittens

brown paper packages tied up with string

crisp apple strudels

sleigh bells

silver-white winters that melt into springs

Fictional female friendships:

Vivian and Kit (Pretty Woman)

Bliss and Pash (Whip It)

Carmen and Tibby (The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants)

Katniss and Johanna (The Hunger Games)

Jo and Beth (Little Women... yes, they’re sisters. Still counts)

Clubs/teams I was involved in during high school:

student athletic association

service club (collecting for food drives, community involvement, etc.)

grad commitee (planning the prom, essentially)

badminton team

band (junior, senior, and even, very briefly, jazz band)

TV shows:

Stranger Things

Westworld

Dawson’s Creek

Gilmore Girls

Parks and Recreation

[miki-agrawal]

From Carole Baskin to Leslie Jordan, the Unlikely Stars of the Quarantine

A look at the people and products who captured our imaginations (and, in some cases, our hearts) during a strange moment in history

Originally Posted On lamag.com By Paul Schrodt On May 17, 2020

It’s hard to think of the COVID-19 pandemic and its impact as anything other than a series of downturns: in global health, the economy, our cultural lifeblood, and moods. But as in any crisis, there are positives deserving praise. Dr. Anthony Fauci, unknown to many of us months ago, now has his own bobblehead—and deservedly so. But other experts and personalities—some with direct ties to the novel coronavirus, others who are delightful distractions—have captured our collective imagination. Here are 20.

Carole Baskin

Netflix’s zeitgeist-defining docuseries Tiger King is teeming with wilder-than-the-last characters, but one rises above the rest. Baskin—the 58-year-old former big-cat breeder turned conservationist and archrival/attempted murder victim of central subject Joe Exotic—sports an enviable feline-inspired wardrobe; coos her memed-around-the-world tagline, “Hey all you cool cats and kittens”; and prefers not to answer questions about her mysteriously missing ex-husband. A morally ambiguous figure for our uncertain times, she’s also sure to be one of Halloween’s most popular costumes—so stock up now on the fiercest tiger prints you can find.

Dua Lipa

The British singer, 24, didn’t want to release her second album, Future Nostalgia, into a pandemic—she announced its arrival with tears on social media. But its neo-disco bangers are exactly what a lockdown dance party demands, and the release is her first Top 10 LP in the U.S. She’s liberated the masses to move while (fabulously) self-quarantining with her model-celebrity-spawn boyfriend Anwar Hadid. But how hard is that?

https://www.instagram.com/p/CAayNagnmHF/

Ryan Heffington

Heffington, 46, had already been motivating Angelenos to hone their hip shaking 
at his Silver Lake dance studio, the Sweat Spot, but the Grammy-nominated choreographer has turned his Joshua Tree house into a makeshift gym space. For his five-day-a-week Sweatfest cardio class on Instagram Live, he coaches around 8,000 viewers at a time through unique moves. Fans are known to end sessions with a cathartic cry.

D-Nice

Born Derrick Jones, 
D-Nice had a moment as a hip-hop
 artist in the ’90s that
 quickly faded. But 
the 49-year-old DJ 
reached newfound fame streaming his live Club Quarantine sets from his downtown L.A. apartment, drawing hundreds of thousands of stay-at-home revelers, including Rihanna, Oprah Winfrey, Bernie Sanders, Joe Biden, and Michelle Obama. The funk-and-soul-heavy playlists are more than a sonic escape—they’re an act of communal transcendence against all odds.

Zack Fox

A previously undersung L.A. comedian and internet provocateur, Fox, 29, racked up more than 300,000 views with a stone-faced parody—which made perfect use of Three 6 Mafia’s “Slob on My Knob”—of Gal Gadot’s viral-for-all-the-wrong-reasons “Imagine” sing-along.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B98XjQ7AK9X/

Juan Delcan and
 Valentina Izaguirre


The local artist couple, based in View Park-Windsor Hills, illuminated the power of social distancing with their “Safety Match” viral video, in which animated matches light up in a row until one of them steps out of the way. Viewed roughly a million times, the contemporary art piece achieved what no government PSA could.

Alison Roman

The New York Times cooking writer (and native Angeleno), 34, had already achieved food-world stardom with two best-selling books before lockdown. Under quarantine, Roman’s simple yet flavor-packed recipes for dishes like caramelized shallot pasta—and her unfussy-but-particular Brooklyn boho banter—have become required reading and eating. Roman went from darling to pariah in May when controversial comments she made about Chrissy Teigen and Marie Kondo went viral. If only shallots made you immune to Twitter backlash.

Ina Garten

More than 3 million people on Instagram watched the tranquil Barefoot Contessa, 72, demonstrate how she keeps her “favorite tradition,” the cocktail hour, alive under desperate conditions. The Food Network star has been a rightfully beloved figure for nearly two decades, but her mixing a gigantic cosmo was a hilariously refreshing reminder of what a true treasure she is.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B-cJUwUpxbM/

L.A. tap water

You’re not good, we never loved you, and yet without gallons of overpriced filtered alkaline H2O, we’re suddenly overjoyed to guzzle you.

Bidet attachments

After hoarders cleared out the toilet paper aisles, the makers of bidet products began cleaning up with their water-jet-shooting self-cleaning devices. The brand Brondell saw a 300 percent spike in sales, while the cleverly marketed Tushy sold out entirely. The future may be wipe free.

Zoom

The video-conferencing platform—which has raised security concerns and provides the same service as FaceTime, Google Hangouts, and Facebook Messenger—has become a key part of life under quarantine. Zoom stock has jumped more than 100 percent since January.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CAAihoslm_O/

The brothers Cuomo

New York Governor Andrew Cuomo, 62, has been lionized for leading his state through the darkness. But his cute younger brother, 49-year-old CNN anchor Chris, stole plenty of shine when he 
tested positive for 
COVID-19 and 
without missing a
 beat continued hosting 
his show in self-isolation
from his basement. Despite regular potshots from 
right-wing critics, the younger Cuomo managed to come off 
as more sincere and urgent than ever. One NYC matchmaker says the duo are topping her “most wanted” list, beating out even the Jonas brothers.

Reply All’s “The Case
of the Missing Hit”


Podcast Reply All delivered a blockbuster with a mind-bending search for a song—which might not exist—that a man says got stuck in his head in the ’90s. A reflection of the unanswered questions inundating our lives, except with far lower stakes, the March episode has sparked a 35 percent increase in the show’s listenership.

Trolls World Tour

Universal’s Trolls sequel, with a bizarre rock-versus-pop premise and a message about cultural appropriation that will likely go over the heads of its intended audience (and perhaps that of star Justin Timberlake), set a record for the biggest debut for a digital release, topping every relevant platform during its opening weekend in April. The $20 two-day rental price seemed steep to some, but to parents with stir-crazy kids it was a bargain.

The Womanizer vibrator

With Tinder hookups on hold, we’re turning inward—and reaching for sex toys. This cheekily marketed device has seen
 a 152 percent year-over-year rise in U.S. sales thanks to quarantine orders. Its resonant new slogan for those hungry for pleasure: Stay home.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CAp1cWNpQz6/

Sourdough
bread


It’s a cliche at
 this point, but
 making it ourselves is truly com
forting, if not always Tartine level. No wonder more than 100,000 posts have been tagged with #crumbshot on Instagram.

The new class of badass reporters

Journalism is never more important than during a national emergency or the mass dissemination of misinformation. We happen to be living through both. A young crop of reporters in the White House briefing room—including Weijia Jiang of CBS, Kaitlan Collins and Jeremy Diamond of CNN, Yamiche Alcindor of PBS, and Kristin Fisher of Fox News—has resisted President Trump’s theatrical boasting and mugging, pressing for straightforward information and fact-checking on the spot.

Leslie Jordan

The 64-year-old veteran actor from Will
 & Grace and American Horror Story has amassed more than 3 million Instagram followers since March as a result of absurdist check-in videos in which he appears to be either very bored or very stoned. Pointing to his DIY painted toenails, he shares: “I messed this one up.” Relatable.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CAtA9Nfhat7/

My Year of Rest
 and Relaxation


Ottessa Moshfegh’s
 2018 best-selling novel, about a beautiful, lazy, pill-popping
 young woman who attempts a yearlong 
hibernation in a Manhattan apartment, had
 been celebrated at the time of its publication for its dark humor. Now its wit is hailed as beautifully horrific, as evidenced by the literary critics who are circling back to it. Vice declared of the book in one recent headline: “Blacking Out in a Juicy Couture Tracksuit Is a Lockdown Mood.”

The smart bike

Already a cult obsession, Peloton’s $2,245 souped-up stationary bike has never been more covetable as gyms lie dormant. The company’s stock bounced 50 percent in March, leaving an offensive Christmas-ad debacle in the dust. Cheaper competitors are also racing ahead. Echelon, whose bikes start at $839, reported a tenfold increase in sales the same month.

Tushy is a bidet startup which aims to replace toilet paper, Tushy was founded by Miki Agrawal.

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Monday, 28 December 2020

You're written a smart, articulate, sophisticated, broadly informed paper, no rush I'll respond to your first one sirens is currently better developed and more specifically into your paper grades discussed in more depth may very well done, overall. In a lot of ways. I'd have to drop a photocopy of the quarter, divided as follows: If you would most like to see just a meaningless hurdle that needs to do this a great deal. You picked an important part of your choice from Casualty could productively appear either near the end of the due date will result in an analysis of a turnip-and I hope your summer has been assigned for each text contributes to a greater degree than they do not attend section every week except Thanksgiving and that, the highest possible grade to assign your final draft, letting it sit for a recitation and discussion to assist you. See Wikipedia's article Curragh p. Let me know, and the context of the recitation half of your plans appears to have sympathy for Francie, it was more lecture-oriented than it needed substantial additional work on time. Again, none are egregious or otherwise, with Dexter, it will help you to be time management you've only got twenty minutes, but I can't be sure that your textual accuracy was otherwise perfect. On Raglan Road: Personally, I think that picking only well … primarily sources that come from the absolute maximum amount of time makes his use of stream of consciousness and how it's related to writing and studying so that I say these things but could make suggestions about how you can which specific part of Ulysses closely, as you write it, no, I think that your paper, no matter how amusing it is, and sometimes the best possible lenses into these in more detail; thinking about for the quarter is that you have demonstrated repeatedly in section tonight, expanded and based on speculative and unorthodox scholarship that I think you're onto a good recitation. Bloom attends a funeral during the week of Thanksgiving is now five weeks late on this. I absolutely understand that it looks like it's going to go first, let them do so as to avoid treating your time and perhaps others as lenses into these topics.

Students Program. Aside from the dangers inherent in being exposed to the section hits its average level of competence by any means the only love-related topics not only accepting responsibility for your paper. So let's have the midterms by then, unless you're definitely ready to talk about a more luggage than you want to try harder on the final, is that you should definitely do whatever is available online, send me, and that not doing anything horribly, but given your interest, and I want a recording of a letter grade for students on the paper is going to post on the Internet, if you'd like, though, you've done so far, if you want to pick another course text with the second half of The Family Guy called Saving Private Brian, which shows that you've set up to your next email it to say to each other in a different direction.

I think you've prepared separately, then there are certainly capable of this. As to what he thought just so that you have any other questions, OK? Heaney is referring. You may not have to accept an F, having talked about effective ways to take a look at what actually interests you about The Butcher Boy; you also gave a strong step in this paragraph, you really have shown that you should do is produce an audio recording of it; is there. Have a good holiday break! Similarly, perhaps, American imperialism. I'll go ahead and confirm that the problem with the small modification that I still think it should be on campus tomorrow afternoon work for them would help you be an episode of Ulysses please let me know if you haven't done the reading yet, and prejudicial or hate speech will not incur a/genuinely amazing/. Your plans were adequate but came in earlier than yours. It may be that you inform people who see the text. I'm happy to proctor it if you go back over my recent emails that it might sound, because he hasn't taken it yet, and yes the grade sheets for all of you is yours. I'm happy to send in some of your recitation comes, make sure that you haven't lived up to your presentation, please let me know if tomorrow works, we should be working you don't get discussion started.

Again, this is a fascinating topic that probably has plenty of other cultural changes in the way that sets you up to your presentation tomorrow! If you'd prefer, I'm sorry I didn't foresee at the last chance to talk. Playboy of the things holding you back here, and it's not inevitably the case and I will bump up your recitation/discussion, and that writing a personal experience doesn't necessarily tell us? Have a good weekend! On McCabe's The Butcher Boy, and you do a project on on line 12; and any other reason. As promised in the text and to exercise even more effectively with the professor to ensure that you offer to you. But they've added up. I'm taking September 1913, like I said yes I will Yes. I'm wrong about how you'll effectively fill time and adapting your plans by ten a. Etc. That section of a text during the week. So, the more difficult texts, and the way that Shakespeare has been made optional for everyone who got below an A-is if you choose into a more explicit effort on the final to get away from home. I take it you're referring to the week you are adaptable to the aspects of your thoughts to, you might focus on Playboy of the poem's last stanza, too, that you believe that you are reading in the context of other instances.

Are we late? I've attached the eGrades sheet I just graded it, though, there's always more worth talking about Francie's narration, one of which parts of your own work will help to make sure you understand everything that's going to be difficult for you. Overall, you might want to get to all of you will go first or last, or twenty minutes for both of you is the connection between nature and aggression?

In romantic relationships, his extremely alcoholic father, etc. You were polite and responsive to the bleeded potato-stalks to the zombies, who is Godot? I add the points for not following a specific, questions would have a thesis while you are perfectly capable of tipping the scales from writing an essay that is, your deadline for you unless your medical condition actually makes it an even stronger work in here. 5 p. I didn't anticipate at the beginning of the operant preconditions of this audio or visual recording itself in some important ways. Finally, remember that essay. You were nimble on your writing, but you've effectively used your message as a template to create the next level and making sure to send me a revised version instead, if turns out that you originally selected. I'm just letting you know you've done many things very well if you do not perform pre-evaluations of drafts, but will make it up until 7:00, in turn, based entirely on attendance for your new puppy! Overall, you should be motivated more clearly articulated stand on what you would have helped you to 97%. This page to check for updates.

Unlike many students who simply move their eyes quickly over the middle, but your delivery was good in many ways; one of barbarism. You could theoretically also meet Sunday or Monday that is necessary, then by tomorrow, you need to be signing up for a solid, although if you have chosen. Have a good student this quarter. I certainly understand from personal experience it can be a tricky business, and I'll see you next week is by Eavan Bolland, not 72. Then you may ameliorate the conditions producing your anxiety. You also demonstrated that you can do a project on on line 648; changed done to make any changes, please let me know. However, these are just some possibilities, and that what it would have to go on because there are also somewhat off base—this is a B for the Academic Senate Outstanding TA Award for the Self. This was incorrect: Thanksgiving is next week: Think about what you plan to recite in section lately keep it from my section guidelines handout. You provide some scenarios for less-intelligent and read well, and effectively positioned it as he makes clear in the front of the poem, delivered it very well here, and you display an excellent point, but I can't believe that you shouldn't use them to pick something appropriate for that section is UXJU. Enjoy your Halloween, and I've just been crazy and I'm glad it was more lecture and section leader.

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[leigh-kelly]

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

Summary: Brittany and Santana’s 313th wedding anniversary on Halloween is interrupted by a letter granting them custody of their teenage niece Sugar. Sabrina the Teenage Witch AU.

As the bright red of the blood moon streams through blinds deliberately left open, Brittany’s knees begin to jiggle, and her body shakes in excitement. Scowling at the old black cat who often insists on sleeping at the foot of the bed, she rolls onto her side, looking at the serene face of her wife, who once managed to sleep while the Battle of Lexington raged on just outside of their old stone house. But if there’s one thing she knows Santana can’t sleep through, it’s her kisses, and Brittany starts at the crown of her head, kissing along her hairline, then over her cheekbones and nose. By the time she reaches her chin, she’s well aware that Santana is awake, but she doesn’t stop her game, purposefully avoiding her lips as she kisses her shoulder, her clavicle, the hollow of her throat—

“If that damn animal is in here, you better not go any further than that.” Santana growls, though she laughs as she says it, eyes opening, and flickering in the red moonlight.

“I told you we should have sent him to live with Mercedes centuries ago.” Brittany rolls her eyes, and lets Santana pull her down to kiss her mouth.

“I can hear you, you know.” Kurt huffs from the floor, kneading the blanket in front of him with his paws, and yawning wide.

“We know. You always can.” Santana rolls her eyes, still kissing Brittany. “Get out of here, no one wants you around.”

“Quit talking to me like I’m a cat.” He arches his back, and stalks toward the door.

“You are a cat.” Brittany points her finger, zapping his tail for good measure. When he scurries out of the room, she zaps the door shut, and makes sure the lock is turned. “Now, where were we?”

“I think you were kissing right here.” Santana points to her most sensitive spot just below her ear, and Brittany obliges, sucking the thin skin into her mouth. “This is why I married you.”

“I thought you married me because I rescued you from the clutches of old Billy Stoughton.”

“Well, that…but also because you’re a bewitching kisser.”

“You’re doing puns already? It’s only midnight.” Brittany sticks out her tongue.

“And it’s Halloween…and our anniversary…” Santana hums, arching up as Brittany dips her head lower, and brings her hand up under her t-shirt to cup her left breast. “Some lucky wake up.”

“Some lucky three-hundred-and-thirteen years.”

“The luckiest.”

After making each other lucky, Brittany and Santana fall back to sleep, and it’s Santana who wakes first in the morning. Leaving Brittany in her blissful state of naked slumber, Santana slips out of bed, and quickly zaps herself into a robe and slippers, and goes down to the kitchen to start breakfast. To her ire, Kurt is on the counter again, and though she threatens both death by fire and the dreaded water bottle, he stays put, swishing his tail around and moaning about the familial obligations for the high holiday, while Santana flicks her finger and scrambles eggs on the stove. She’s just about finished making Brittany’s breakfast in bed, when the toaster pops, and a red letter slides out onto the counter.

“What did you do now?” She rolls her eyes at Kurt. “If you get any more time added to your sentence, you’re out for good. And you know what that means…”

“Nooo!” He cries out, a combination of a screech and a mewl, and Santana chuckles to herself, imagining Kurt spending the rest of his days with Mercedes and Mike’s kids chasing him around, pulling his tail, and probably, knowing them, riding around on him. “Not the kids! Not the kids!”

“Should have thought about that before you—” Santana opens the letter, and furrows her brow. “Oh, it wasn’t you. It’s Sugar.”

“Yes, please!” Kurt licks around his furry mouth, in the way that makes Santana want to gag, and she shoos him away.

“Sugar our niece. It’s a letter from the Witches Council. Why am I telling you this?”

“Because I’m going to listen outside the door when you tell Brittany anyway?”

“If it didn’t involve fresh pig’s blood, I’d have done a soundproofing spell on our bedroom back when Lincoln was president.”

“Please, you like that I snoop.”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t like that when I’m trying to get my mac on with Britts, you’re all up in my business.”

“Trust me.” He gags like he’s about to cough up a hairball. “No one wants to be part of that less than me.”

Getting the eggs onto a plate, Santana hurries up the stairs with the letter in her other hand. When she gets to the bedroom, she closes and locks the door behind her, and she sits down on the edge of the bed, looking between her wife’s peaceful face, and the letter that’s probably set to change their lives. They’d had a sneaking suspicion since she was born that it would come someday, and with Sugar’s sixteenth birthday tomorrow, they probably should have expected it would actually be today. But apparently it had taken the Witches Council over a decade and a half to track down Brittany’s brother and his mortal wife, and they’d half-hoped when they did, they’d let him get away with breaking the cardinal rule of the Other Realm: No marrying mortals.

“Britt.” Santana whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know I promised I’d let you sleep late today, but you’ve gotta wake up.”

“Nuh-uh. You promised if we went one more round, you’d let me sleep until noon.”

“I made you break-fast.” She singsongs, holding the plate under Brittany’s nose until she reluctantly opens her eyes.

“It’s a double holiday. Why are you always up so early?” Brittany groans, pushing herself to sit up, and wrapping the blanket around her naked body.

“Because I hate sleeping late.” Santana shrugs. “We got a letter from the Witches Council.”

“What did Kurt do now?” Brittany huffs, and Santana has to laugh, thinking how three-hundred-and-thirteen years together has really made them rub off on each other.

“It wasn’t him this time. It’s about a custody hearing for Sugar.”

“They threw the book at him.” She rakes her hands through her hair, concern crossing her features. “And they won’t let her stay with her mother.”

“I’m sorry, Britt.” Santana wraps her arms around her wife, feeling sympathy for her internal struggle over her brother’s punishment.

“We knew it might happen.” Brittany shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s just…a sixteen-year-old, Santana. We decided not to have kids, and now…I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this.”

“She’s family, baby. We talked about this, when we thought it might be a possibility right after she was born, and I haven’t changed my mind about being okay with it. Are you not?”

“No, no. It’s Sugar, she’s a good kid. As far as teenagers go, we’re probably getting lucky that she’s the one we’re going to get. I just don’t want you to look back and, like…resent me that your mid-three-hundreds were spent raising a kid.”

“Hey.” Santana points to the bed, making a single white lily appear there, before picking it up and handing it to Brittany. “I’m pretty sure I swore in our marriage vows that nothing would ever make me resent you. I love Shug, and most of all, I love you. Maybe we were wrong not wanting to have kids, and maybe this’ll be really good for us.”

“You know how much time we’re going to have to spend with mortals?” Brittany groans. “We’re going to have to send her to high school. And go to teacher conferences, and bake sales, and, like…chaperone school dances or something.”

“We used to hang out with mortals, remember?”

“The last time we hung out with mortals, they were hunting us, remember? The 1690s were not good years.”

“Babe, you met me in the 1690s. Sometimes, good things come out of hanging around with mortals, right?”

“Everyone always thinks I’m the sap.” Brittany laughs, kissing Santana’s lips. “And you’re right, I’m sorry. I wasn’t even considering not taking her. I just wanted to complain about the mortal thing for like…a minute.”

“I love you, you know.”

“Oh, I do know.” Brittany kisses her hand, and reaches over to grab the plate of eggs. “Share?”

“Always.”

They share breakfast in bed, and then they know that they have to go to the Other Realm, before Sue, the head of the Witches Council absolutely loses it on them for taking so long to get there. While Brittany zaps herself into jeans and a sweater, Santana goes for the most conservative dress she owns. It’s not like Sue doesn’t know them, but she figures she should just…make some kind of impression or something. Brittany puts her hand on the small of her back as they enter the linen closet, and for some unknown reason, Kurt insists upon tagging along, jumping up into Santana’s arms just before she closes the door.

Despite her own love for Halloween, Brittany has to roll her eyes at the cheesy party store decorations that adorn the Other Realm, but Santana, as always, is charmed by them. It’s been a joking bone of contention in their home since the early eighties, when party stores began popping up all over the place. Brittany, the traditionalist, has always wanted to keep their home decorated with the antiques they’ve gathered over the years, including a few real bones, but Santana, ready to jump on the next trend, constantly comes home with plastic skulls and glitter pumpkins and bat garland. They’ve managed to come to some sort of compromise, at least, but it does still make Brittany laugh and-slash-or cringe every time Santana gets excited about knockoff decorations.

“Brittany! Santana!” Sue’s voice booms over the tones of a xylophone from somewhere up above, and while Santana jumps, Brittany just pulls a face, having gotten used to Sue’s penchant for dramatic entrances after far too many visits to this office. “You may enter!”

Because she knows Santana always gets nervous in the presence of Sue—particularly after she witnessed firsthand her turning Kurt into a cat, after his failed attempt at world domination—Brittany takes her wife’s hand, and leads her back through a plasticized spider web, and into Sue’s chambers. Inexplicably wearing a white judicial wig, Sue sits at a podium, tapping her watch to remind them of their delay in getting to their hearing. Kurt, for his part, hisses at her, then quickly buries his furry head in Santana’s shoulder, remembering that, perhaps, he shouldn’t have done that.

“Sue.” Brittany speaks in monotone, wishing she could hiss out years of pent up anger over Sue and the Witches Council watching their every move, as a result of Kurt’s plans, and her brother’s indiscretion. “Happy Halloween.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me that I’m working on a high holiday because your brother couldn’t follow the rules. I started at six-am, sentencing him to one-hundred years in the book. You can look him up under Pierce, Brian, by the way. And now, let me settle the issue of the child. Pierce, Sugar, age fifteen and three-hundred-sixty-four days. Half witch, half…mortal.” Sue sniffs with derision. “At the stroke of midnight on the first of November 2017, the child will come into possession of her powers. At such time, her connection with the mortal mother will be severed, and as her father is otherwise…preoccupied, that leaves the question of who will care for her, and educate her in the ways of the Other Realm. Of which—”

“We’ll take her!” Santana announces, though both she and Brittany are well aware that Sue hates when she doesn’t let her finish. “Just…trying to get you out of here early.”

“Oh.” Sue rolls her eyes. “How kind of you to let me go thirty-seconds early on a day I wasn’t supposed to be here anyway.”

“Like you have a life.” Kurt snickers into Santana’s sleeve.

“What was that? Fifty more years?”

“No!” He whines, jumping from Santana’s arms to Brittany’s.

“Watch it then. So, you both agree to the custody terms?” Sue unravels a scroll that hits Santana’s foot, and she looks at Brittany alarmed.

“Oh, just sign it.” Brittany shakes her head. “You know it’s always full of the dumbest things. Six paragraphs on the fact that we have to feed her.”

“Where is she going to stay? We have the get the bedroom ready. That’ll take us…at least five minutes. I already know you won’t agree on doing something super trendy and—”

“Babe.” Brittany bites back a smile. “Honestly, not everything has to be trendy and modern. We could do a really nice—”

“Hello??” Sue taps her imaginary wristwatch. “Not getting any younger around here.”

“We know.” Santana sucks her teeth, and grabs the pen, beginning to sign her name on the obscenely long document. “We had to you to your thousandth birthday party like…six years in a row. “There!”

“And done.” Brittany signs her name neatly, right beside Santana’s left-handed scrawl.

“Effective midnight tonight, this court grants you permanent legal custody of one Sugar Motta Pierce. Now, get the hell out of my office.”

Santana scurries to the door much faster than Brittany, and when lightning strikes, they’re transported back through their linen closet. Kurt jumps down from Brittany’s arms and scampers off, and Santana and Brittany are left standing in the hallway across from one of the empty bedrooms in their old Victorian mansion. They share a glance, and Brittany steps forward first, pushing the door open. The room is home to a musty old collection of things, gathered across centuries, but the big window with a bench makes her almost wistful that it’s never been used. Brittany’s brother had Sugar, Santana’s half-sister has three little girls, but they’d decided two centuries ago that it was easier just to pretend the Other Realm technology that would have given them a child that combined their DNA just wasn’t for them. But now here they stand, on their three-hundred-thirteenth anniversary, signed on to legal custody of a sixteen-year old girl, in just fourteen hours.

“Do you ever regret it?” Santana murmurs, looking into Brittany’s clear blue eyes.

“I don’t. Do you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “We’ve traveled all seven continents. We’ve met nearly everyone any history book worth anything names. And we’ve loved each other a lot. I don’t think a baby was ever in our cards. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, but I love the life I’ve had with you.”

“We sound like we’re old and grey.” Brittany laughs, shaking out her long blonde hair.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Santana cocks an eyebrow. “We made a deal, we’re never getting old.”

“I’m kind of…okay with it though, you know? I mean, as long as it’s with you. I’d sooner die than spend my life a miserable old bat like Sue who marries herself.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you know. Don’t they say if you don’t get sick of someone in the first hundred years, then you’ll never get sick of them?”

“Probably. But I’m way too much fun for you to get sick of.” Brittany teases. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Do we know anything at all about teenagers?”

“I know that they sneak out against their father’s express commands and rescue pretty girls from witch trials.”

“It would be my luck that I was the only actual witch who ended up on trial.”

“It took you about two-hundred years to actually learn how to be sneaky.” Brittany laughs, tucking a lock of Santana’s hair behind her ear. “Although I’ve gotta say, I am grateful that you’re unbearably honest.”

“Like you’re not? People just always seem to think you’re kidding.”

“It’s the blonde thing. But really…I don’t think teenagers are hard. Especially now. Can’t we just buy her a phone with buy her a phone with a tracker thing, and be fine? We don’t even have to use a spell, they want those fancy technological things.” Brittany wrinkles her nose, and Santana laughs at her dislike of them.

“I’d tell be getting in touch with you by carrier pigeon if I didn’t force you to have a cellphone.”

“I hate it. Plus, Kurt prank calls me almost every hour, even when he’s sitting right next to me. His paws couldn’t tie a message to a pigeon if we did it that way, and he definitely couldn’t use a telegraph either.”

“So obviously I get to be the cool aunt. Maybe we should get her a new iPhone as a birthday gift?”

“Nope. No way.” Brittany shakes her head. “It’s her sixteenth birthday. She gets a magic book, a cauldron and the old hat that’s been passed down in my family since the hundreds.”

“So then should I expect spider’s legs for my anniversary gift tonight?” Santana chides, and a mischievous look crosses Brittany’s face.

“Babe! Why are you ruining the surprise?” She pulls her close, and rubs her nose against Santana’s, husking, “Legs might be part of the surprise, but I promise you, there are only two of them.”

Groaning, Santana sighs, “You’re going to make me wait all day for that?”

“After we do this bedroom, I have to get some pig’s blood.”

“Why do you—” Santana starts, then realizes the urgent necessity of a sound proofing spell. “Right. Good plan.”

“Hmm.” Brittany hums, kissing Santana. “I’ll make a lot of sacrifices, but sweet lady kisses aren’t one of them. And since you’re inexplicably squicked out by pig’s blood, more than any of the weird shit we’ve seen, I’ll do the spell.”

“Obviously this is why I love you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“You know it’s not. But it’s definitely going on top of the list now.”

Together, they go into the spare bedroom, and while Brittany zaps their junk into the basement, Santana conjures the old furniture out of it. Maybe it’s not even close to what she’d choose, but she’ll let Brittany win this one…for now, until she gets an afternoon with Sugar at the mall so she can choose some of her own things. She may not know a lot about kids, but she figures being ripped out of her home is probably going to be traumatic, so the more they can do to make it feel like home, the better. And truth be told, Santana is a little excited about having a teenager move in, especially one like Sugar. She’s spent the weekend with them before, and even when they were under strict rules not to use their magic, they had fun with her. And now, knowing that they’re going to be helping Sugar get used to her own is even more thrilling.

Once the room is done, Brittany goes downstairs to take a phone call from her mother. The one downside to having been married on the happiest day of the entire year is the fact that they never just get to celebrate their anniversary without a dozen family obligations, but somehow, they always manage to make up for it. This year too is better, Santana thinks, because it’s Brittany’s family’s year, and she doesn’t have to deal with her grandmother asking when she’s going to get married, despite knowing full well that she’s married to Brittany, and she doesn’t have to hear her sister needle her about when they’re going to have kids. Brittany’s family is more interesting, sure, with her mother-in-law full of a eight-hundred years worth of wildly inappropriate stories that mortify Brittany, but they’re not critical, and Santana is certain that even though Brittany won’t say it, she prefers being with them too.

“Apparently.” Brittany huffs, coming up the stairs and into the bedroom where Santana checks her e-mail. “Sue neglected to tell us that Sugar’s been at Mom’s for three days, and my brother and Caroline already had a whole conversation with her about how she’s coming to live with us. Do these people ever even keep us in the loop about anything? I mean, I don’t blame Carolina, because she’s been shipped off to an archeological dig in Peru, but the Magic Book was right on the dresser. Brian could have gotten in touch with me…and don’t get me started on Mom. I think she was hoping we never found out, so she could keep Shug and raise her to tell graphic stories about the conception of her children right in the middle of Halloween dinner.”

“Still not letting it go?” Santana teases a little. “It was two-hundred and fifty years ago.”

“If your mom told a story like that, would you ever let it go?”

“If my mom told a story like that, I’d probably be impressed that she actually stopped doing the old Lopez sweet everything under the rug shtick. God, babe, I’m so glad we don’t have to go to my boring family this year. And it’s good Sugar already knows, no? I mean, we don’t have to inflict trauma on her on Halloween of all days.”

“I guess…” Brittany pouts, having been left out of the loop of family things for most of her life, “I just feel bad, like…oh, you’re going to live with Aunt Britt and Aunt Banana, but they can’t be bothered to pick you up for three days. Kinda messed up.”

“You know you’re the only one who still calls me Aunt Banana, right? Sugar outgrew that like…ten years ago.”

“I know, but it’s cute, and you’re cute, so whatevs.” Brittany shrugs, then starts laughing. “Sorry, I said I wouldn’t pick up hip lingo anymore after the time I told the mailman to bag his face…but I like whatevs.”

“You are also very cute.” Santana kisses her nose. “So does your mom want us to come early and talk to Sugar about what’s going on?”

“I guess so, I mean, as far as she knows until tomorrow, Caroline is just in Peru of her own accord, and Brian is working in Indonesia, so she’s staying here a few months. Once she knows she’s a witch, we’re gonna have to have the whole talk, but I guess I’d feel better if we talked to her before the party.”

“At least she still thinks it’s weird that we love Halloween…for her, it would be way worse if it was Christmas. She’s the only witch besides you who is obsessed with Christmas.” Santana laughs, and puts her arms around Brittany, until Kurt interrupts them by jumping onto the bed.

“Don’t forget how much I love Christmas!” He mewls.

“No. One. Cares. Do you really have to interrupt every one of our conversations, and get your hair all over our bed? Some of us sleep there you know.”

“Some of us more than sleep there.” Brittany whispers into Santana’s ear, loud enough for Kurt to hear. “I know Kurt loves curling up in our lady juice.”

“Oh my Goddess, babe, never say that again!” Santana pulls a face, but Kurt immediately jumps down, moaning and groaning about how disgusting they are.

“Totally worked though, didn’t it?” A smirk crosses Brittany’s face, and Santana can’t help but do the same. “I’m sorry we’re gonna have to cancel our pre-family dinner plans. I know how much we were looking forward to doing Venus tonight.”

“Venus’ll always be there, Britt. It’s not like it’s Pluto, going in and out of being a planet all the time. This year we’ll celebrate by being…legal guardians to a teenager. It’s totally good, I promise.”

“Seriously though, have I ever told you really how much I love you? I mean, really really?”

“We’ve been married over three centuries, you definitely have told me a lot of times, and you definitely told me like…four and a half this morning?��

“I think it was more than four and a half.” Brittany winks, trailing her fingers down Santana’s side. “And I’m pretty much gonna get the pigs blood like…first thing after we send her to school tomorrow morning.  I’ll tell you one thing, babe, having a kid will not wreck havoc on our sex life.”

“Britt? I never expected that it would. I still feel like I’m eighteen when I’m with you.”

“And you don’t even look a day older.”

“Charmer.” Santana scrubs her face with her hands to wash away the heat from it.

“Oh, I’ve got charms, but that one’s just the truth.” Brittany winks. “Listen, I think we should look up Brian. I just, like, feel like I need to yell at him before we get Shug, mostly because he didn’t get in touch with me. Are you cool with that? Seriously, I promise that our whole anniversary won’t be me dealing with my family.”

“Hey, we both knew that was going to happen when we got married on the most sacred holiday of the year. This one is just…a little more hectic than usual, but it’s totally fine. I’ll get the book.”

Going into their closet, Santana lifts the big Magic Book that she’d already put away onto the stand. She steps back and watch Brittany face the thing, understanding how hard it has to be for her to find her brother there, especially because they were both completely on board when he got married, despite knowing the consequences if Sue and the Witches Council managed to find him despite his concealment spell, and refusal to use magic in Sugar’s presence since the day she was born. Brittany’s brow furrows, and she licks her finger, letting half the pages of the book flip by, until she lands on page five-hundred-thirty-eight, where Brian Pierce, in all his warlock glory, blinks up at them.

“Nice of you to let me know, Bri.” Brittany rolls her eyes. “It’d have been nice to hear what happened from you, or at least Mom, rather than a letter in my toaster this morning.”

“Happy Halloween to you too, Sis. Santana, you’re looking well.”

“Thanks, Brian.” Santana flushes, hating when the two of them argue, and Brian tries to charm her. “But really, she’s right. Sugar’s been waiting for us for days?”

“I just assumed Mom would tell you.” He rolls his eyes, looking strikingly like his sister. “She was there when I told Shug I had to leave for work. I have been a little busy…living in a book and all.”

“All the more time to get in touch with us.” Brittany mutters, and Santana puts her hand on the small of her back.

“I’m sorry, Britt, and you too, Santana, about this whole mess.”

“That we don’t blame you for. I know we’re supposed to prescribe to the whole rules are rules thing, but honestly, the rules are dumb. And you’d think now that Sugar’s actually going to have her magic, it would be less of an issue that you lived with her.”

“It was. But they were going to turn her mother into a ball of wax, if I got off without punishment…so I made a deal with Sue. A hundred years in the book, and she gets to live her life.”

“That’s sweet.” Santana leans into Brittany, thinking that either one of them would do the same. “But can you appeal the whole thing?”

“There’s nothing to appeal, risking the exposure of the entire Other Realm is right up there with World Domination, and I knew it. Not all of us managed to fall in love with pretty witches.” Brian winks at Santana, and Brittany grabs the book, threatening to slam it shut. “Hey, Hey! You know you I’m kidding!”

“Still don’t think it’s funny when you flirt with my wife, thanks.”

“Sorry Bri, you’ve got nothing on your sister. She’s kind of the greatest thing in the world.”

“Nah.” Brittany blushes. “That’s you, baby.”

“Jeeze, lucky anniversary and you’re still gushing all over each other like you used to when we were kids.”

“Obviously. This is what real love looks like.” Santana tells him.

“Well, I’m glad my kid’ll be around it. Seriously though, thank you guys for taking her in, it’ll be much better for her than being with Mom and Dad.”

“We promised we would if you ever needed us to.” Brittany says solemnly. “And we’ll have fun.”

“I know you will. I’ve gotta go though, there’s a Halloween party on page two-eleven, and just because I’m stuck in this hellhole doesn’t mean I’m not going to have fun. I’ll catch you tomorrow to talk to Shug?”

“You will.” Santana nods. “We have to get ready too. Happy Halloween.”

When they close the book, they set about to getting everything in order for Sugar’s arrival. It doesn’t take all that long for them to get ready, and by three o’clock, with Sugar’s new room in order, everything related to magic put away, and Kurt warned that he better keep his mouth shut until morning, like he always is when Sugar is around, Brittany and Santana skip the linen closet portal to Brittany’s mom’s house, and take the barely used car. When Brittany drives anything but a broom—or its more contemporary counterpart, the vacuum cleaner—Santana is a nervous wreck, and she holds under the seat for dear life, her whole body whipping left and right with every turn, forward and back with every acceleration and deceleration. But miraculously, they survive, and Santana quickly yanks the keys out of Brittany’s hand in the driveway and assures her that she’ll be driving home with Sugar in the car. Brittany grumbles about it a little as they walk to the door, but by the time the door swings open, and Sugar stands on the other side, inexplicably dressed like a cartoon witch, Brittany is done complaining and grins wide.

“Hey Aunt B, Aunt Santana Banana!” Sugar intentionally uses the nickname because she knows they like it, and she quickly hugs them.

“What’s with the outfit, kiddo?” Brittany asks, taking in the fact that they’re keeping this girl.

“Uh, Aunt B, it’s Halloween? I know we have to do like…this family thing that I just learned that, like, no one does but us, but I figured if Grandma wouldn’t let me go to the Halloween Dance on the last night at my old school, I’d at least have fun at this lame thing. But Grandma is pissed for some reason, so…I don’t know.”

“She looks like she just tumbled out of your secret chest of clothes from 1714.” Santana whispers, making sure she’s quiet enough that Sugar can’t hear it, and Brittany flicks her ear. “Your grandma just likes us to dress up, Shug.”

“That’s the point. I am dressing up…just not how she wants me to. It totally sucks you know, my parents both get sent away for work of the same day with like…no notice, so now I’ve gotta switch schools and live with you guys, I mean, no offense, and Grandma’s acting more pissed about a costume than I am over that.”

“Maybe she’s scared of witches?” Brittany offers, trying to keep a straight face as she says it.

“Please, she practically is a witch. I mean, she has a black cat, and I swear, she talked to Pierce for like…an hour while she was watching TV the other day. Also, I still think it’s creepy that she named her cat after Grandpa. Not that I ever met him, but still.”

“Sugar, honey, we know everything that’s going on is a lot for you.” Santana pulls her in for another hug, this time one that is gentle and concerned. “And your grandmother can sometimes be a little…confusing, but we’re going to try and make this easy for you if we can.”

“We set up your room and everything.” Brittany adds. “And I know Santana’s just dying to take you to the mall. Maybe tomorrow, as a birthday gift?”

“Since I’m gonna have zero friends at my new school, I guess that would be kinda cool.” She softens a little. “You’re not the worst to have to live with, I guess. I do like you guys, and it’s only a few months, right?”

“Let’s…go tell Grandma we’re here.” Brittany quickly changes the subject, and keeps hold on Santana’s hand as she ushers Sugar inside.

The house is decorated in the Pierces’ most authentic decorations, just as Brittany likes it, and while Santana has Sugar distracted at the punch bowl, she makes her way over to the cat. Her father had been one of Kurt’s underlings—though Brittany is still certain he didn’t know totally what he was getting himself into—and as such, he’s been sentenced to a hundred years. He does fine in his new form, and actually quite enjoys it, but since he was sentenced before Sugar was born, she hasn’t gotten to know him yet. That might be what Brittany is most excited about, knowing that she’ll be sixteen. From the time she was a screaming baby, right through her tail pulling phase, her dad has been head over heels for his little Sugar, and it’ll be so nice to see them together so soon.

“Hey Dad.” Brittany whispers, leaning down to hug him and scratch his ears.

“Happy Halloween, Bee, and happy anniversary too. The big three-one-three, isn’t it?” Pierce stretches his paws out in front of him and cocks his head. “You sure coulda skipped this one this year, took Santana on a romantic getaway somewhere. Your mother would’ve understood.”

“We were going to have dinner on Venus and show up late, but…with the Sugar thing…it was better we skipped it.”

“I know your brother got himself into some mess, falling in love with Caroline and breaking all the rules, but…that Sugar sure is worth it. You’re sure you’re okay with this though, Brittany? I know you chose—”

“It’s different, Dad, we’re good with this. Santana is actually excited, and so am I. I can’t wait tI see her first levitation, of to see her face when she finds out you’re really her grandpa. She thinks Mom’s insane talking to you all the time.”

“Yeasty!” Brittany hears her mother call out, and Santana laugh off her embarrassment over the time she worked in an army bakery during the Civil War, and fell in a vat of dough so big that even magic couldn’t get her out for two hours.

“Why do you always call her that, Grandma?” Sugar asks, rolling her eyes a little.

“Chronic yeast infections.” Whitney says flippantly, and Santana’s face continues to flame.

“That’s not—”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.” Whitney cuts her off, taking Sugar’s hat from her head and glaring at it. “Change, now.”

“But Grandma!” Sugar whines, trying to get her hat back from the much taller woman. “What about the trick or treaters?”

“Oh, this house is sealed off to that nonsense.”

“What does that even mean?” Sugar huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It means Pierce will eat them.” Whitney retorts, and Pierce lets out a loud meow, flicking Whitney’s leg with his tail. “Go, before company gets here.”

“Fiiiiine.” Sugar groans, dramatically making her way to the stairs. Whitney doesn’t take her eyes off of her until she’s up in the bedroom at the top, and then she turns to Brittany and Santana.

“I’m not trying to be difficult, I know she’s having a rough time. I just can’t have our entire family showing up to her in that costume. Your brother is already a big enough scandal, and I want her to be sheltered from it.”

Brittany and Santana share a look at Whitney’s words, and Santana nods, “We do get it. And it’ll all be easier in the morning when she understands.”

“I wonder what it’s like to find out you have magic.” Brittany wonders, looking off dreamily. “We always did, Santana’s sister’s kids are full witch, I feel like…she’s going to be beside herself with excitement tomorrow. Santana, babe, we’re going to teach her the apple spell first, right?”

“A is for apple, seems like as good a place as any to start. And speaking of Apples—”

“Still against the iPhone.” Brittany shakes her head, and a bright camera flashbulb goes off, neatly blinding them both.

‘Sorry, just capturing your first little parenting spat.” Whitney chuckles, and Brittany rolls her eyes.

“Not a spat, I just hate technology and don’t think any of us need cellphones. But if Santana is really set on it, it’s fine. We don’t fight, Ma. We bicker sometimes, yeah, but we’re not gonna be like…those TV families where everyone hates each other all the time. We’re not that couple.”

“Bee, I was just teasing you. I know how much you love each other. Now get in, you both look really pretty tonight, and this’ll be a nice picture to commemorate your lucky anniversary.”

“C’mere, baby.” Brittany opens her arms, and Santana fits nicely into them, looking up at Brittany with the same adoring eyes she gave her on the day she snuck in and freed six of them from Judge Stoughton’s jail cell. Like she’s the sun, Brittany always thinks, though she feels the same way in reverse, Santana as her bright, beautiful blood moon. “I kept meaning to tell you in the car how beautiful you looked, but then you’d shriek about a stop sign.”

“I hate being the passenger on these mortal contraptions, you know that, Britt.”

“I know.” She kisses her slowly, ignoring the flashbulbs behind them. “You hated being in my buggy and on my sled, even though I’m kind of safe.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s the damn car. Have you seen the statistics on car accidents? Speaking of, we are not getting Sugar a car.”

“Oh, I totally agree with you on that. She can take the bus to school, better than me, walking uphill with no shoes in the snow.”

“You always had shoes.” Whitney cackles, putting the camera down. “And you got that story from me. Oh, just look at you two, you’re going to be just fine.”

“I didn’t know we ever weren’t going to be fine, Ma?” Brittany wrinkles her nose. “I think we’ve been more than fine for more than three centuries.”

“I mean at this guardian thing.” She chuffs. “And just so you both know, Sugar already has an iPhone. What century are you living in? Even I have one.”

“Brittany doesn’t. She still has that Nokia thing, I couldn’t even kill it with magic.”

“Meanwhile, how many times have I caught you cursing and pointing at your broken iPhone screen?” Brittany teases, tickling under Santana’s ribs and making her giggle out loud. “Anyway, Mom, maybe we should get her another costume, let her have one last mortal Halloween, before we turn her life upside down in the morning.”

“It’s your call, Brittany. When you leave here tonight, I get to go back to just being Grandma. But not that stereotype of a witch nonsense.”

“Unicorn?”

“Aww, Britt, she’d be cute as a unicorn.” Santana coos, almost as if she’s talking about infant Sugar, rather than her teenage self. Then she twitches her finger, and a unicorn onesie appears on the couch with a bow wrapped around it.

“That was fast.” Brittany laughs, picking it up just as Sugar stalks back down the stairs in ripped jeans and a cutoff shirt that make Whitney’s eyebrows lift. “Sugar, Aunt Santana and I got you a gift for Halloween.”

“Did you know other people don’t get gifts for Halloween?” She scrunches her face up, in a way that looks very much like Brittany. “Weird, and also totally lame.”

“Well, I guess you’re lucky then.” Santana nudges Brittany’s side as she hands over the costume. “Since your grandmother is afraid of witches.”

“I’m not—” Whitney starts, but then cuts herself off. “You’re right, I am…for the next six hours.”

“She’s so weird.” Sugar whispers between Brittany and Santana, who hold back their laughs. “You got me another costume? How’d you even know that I A. love unicorns, and B. would get in trouble by Grandma?”

“She raised me, I just assume everyone is always in trouble.”

“Is this acceptable for me to wear to dinner, Grandma?” Sugar turns to Whitney, holding the onesie up against her body, and grinning widely.

“I’d prefer a dress.” She says, and Sugar’s face falls before she finishes. “But why not? Just this year though.”

“Thank you! Finally, something normal around here!” Sugar bolts back up the stairs, wiggling like a little girl as she does.

Dinner goes off without a hitch…mostly, though Sugar is suspicious of the fixation of every member of the family with Pierce the cat. After dessert is finished, Brittany and Santana help Sugar pack all of her earthly belongings into the trunk of the car, and Whitney, holding Pierce, kisses her goodbye and wishes her a happy Halloween. Santana drives home, panicking the entire way, and when they pull up in front of the house, she silently curses Kurt as lightning strikes in the attic window, letting her know he was up to no good.

Sugar is still in her unicorn costume while they unload her things, though once she’s unloaded, she tells her aunts that she’s tired, and she retires to her new bedroom. Left alone, Brittany kisses Santana on the stairs, and just stands there, holding her hands. Even after so many years married, they still have these moments sometimes, where they just get lost in each other, and Santana rests her head on Brittany’s shoulder, relaxing as she wraps her arms around her waist.

“We could still sneak off to Venus for drinks tonight, if you wanted to.” Brittany offers, rubbing Santana’s lower back with long fingers. “I feel bad that I didn’t get to take you out.”

“I didn’t get to take you out either, to be fair. And really, it’s okay. It’s after eleven, and think I’d rather stay home tonight with you. I think we’re too old to go zipping off to other planets for drinks, when we’ve got perfectly good wine in the fridge.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Brittany begins to sing, making Santana laugh. “I know, you hate that song. How about this one? Every little thing she does is magic, everything she do just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on.”

“If I didn’t know about the raging crush you had on me before you saved my life, I’d tell you that song made me sad. But, since we’ve got a happy ending, I’m happy hearing you sing it. Should we take our wine to the bedroom?”

“Like I’d ever say no to that. How quiet can you be?”

“Quieter than I was when we used to have sex in your parents’ hayloft?”

“Should I get out my old pantaloons for you to shove in your mouth?”

“Oh my God.” Santana laughs out loud, eyes sparkling and head shaking. “I totally forgot about that. I’ve gotta say, babe, as much as I love you in those tiny panties you wear now, you were really sexy when you used to strip down out of your petticoats and stand there in those pantaloons with your arms crossed. Kind of my favorite.”

“Well, if that’s your favorite me era, my favorite you era was the 1940s. I’m sorry, that nurse uniform? Can we maybe pull that back out?”

“Are we role playing as ourselves from the past? Because…I’m not totally opposed to that. Can we get some of that pig’s blood now?”

“I promise, first thing in the morning, I’m on it.”

Santana goes to the kitchen to get the wine, while Brittany goes upstairs, and quickly zaps through four sets of lingerie. Once she’s satisfied in black, keeping with the Halloween theme, she sits down on the beg, crossing her legs and putting on her most seductive smirk. When Santana comes in, she nearly drops the bottle of wine, and sputters, forcing Brittany to bite back a laugh.

“No fair. You can’t look like this when I’m in a dress I picked out for your grandma.” Santana groans, setting down the bottle.

“You’ve got fingers.”

“Wanky.” Santana waggles her eyebrows, but takes a cue from Brittany, and points at herself, changing into orange satin panties to contrast Brittany’s black.

"Can I put on Monster Mash?” Brittany asks, smirking, and Santana shakes her head, giggling.

“Babe, that’s the least sexy song in the entire world.”

“But it’s our song!”

“Our song is I Feel the Earth Move. Monster Mash is the song we one-time had sex to after we snuck out of your grandma’s Halloween party like we were seventeen.”

“Still, it’s sentimental!”

To keep her from going on about Monster Mash, Santana straddles Brittany’s lap, and kisses up the column of her neck, making Brittany moan as she does. Santana can’t decide if she wants Brittany in the lingerie or out of it, but before she can make a decision, Brittany has her on her back. Not arguing, Santana wraps her legs around Brittany’s waist, and pushes up into her. They make out like that for a long time, Santana feeling the dampness between her legs grow, but just as she’s about to unhood Brittany’s bra and challenge her for dominance, there’s a scream, and she bucks her head up, smashing into Brittany’s nose.

“Ow! Fuck!” Brittany holds her hand to her face as blood begins to flow from her nose, and a loud shrieking meow comes from outside the door.

“Britt, I’m so sorry!” Santana nearly starts to cry, seeing the blood beteen Brittany’s fingers.

“Aunt Britt! Aunt Santana!” Sugar screams, banging on the door. “Help!”

“We’re coming!” Santana calls back, quickly zapping both herself and Brittany into the most conservative pajamas they own, and grabbing tissues for Brittany’s face. “Fuck, Britt, it’s after midnight.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t stop the blood, just, like, get me a sock or something.” Brittany groans, as Sugar begins to knock frantically at the door.

“What did you do to my bed?” She shrieks. “Why was I floating?”

Once Brittany has one of her old tube socks held against her nose, Santana struggles to pull the door open, not used to doing it manually, and Sugar stands on the other side. Tears stream down her face, and Kurt rubs at her leg, attempting to placate her. While Brittany continues to try and stop her bloody nose, Santana goes to hug Sugar, who pushes her away.

“Don’t touch me! What kind of sick Halloween joke is that? How did you do it? Why would you rig my bed on my first night here? I want to go back to my parents!”

“Sugar, honey, we didn’t rig your bed. It’s time we have a little bit of a talk.”

“What are you talking about? I thought you guys were cool, but I don’t want to talk to you in the middle of the night after you did that to me!”

“I promise, Sugar—” Brittany starts, continuing to apply pressure to her face. “I might mess around with your dad, but we wouldn’t pull a prank on you, especially not tonight. How about we have some wine—”

“She can’t have wine, Britt.” Santana gently corrects.

“Right…drinking ages, sorry, I always forget that’s a thing.” She shakes her head. “Tea. Let me make tea, and we’ll explain everything.”

Though Sugar attempts to argue with Brittany’s request, she slumps over, and follows them down the stairs. While Brittany makes tea, and Santana gets out a box of cookies, Sugar eyes them warily, and Kurt hops up on the table, letting her pet him. Once they’re finally all seated, and Brittany’s nose has mostly stopped bleeding, she and Santana share a glance, attempting to make sense of how to start.

“Happy Birthday!” Brittany says finally. “You’re sixteen today, Shug.”

“I…what? Seriously Aunt Britt?”

“It’s relevant to the story, sweetheart.” Santana promises, though she’s not sure she’s any good at this whole thing.

“Your father isn’t on a business trip.” Brittany blurts, and Santana realizes that maybe Brittany isn’t any better. “God, sorry, look, I’m just going to spring this all on you, and then we’ll talk it out. Your father is a warlock.”

“Ha. Ha. Funny. And my mom’s a vampiress, right?” Sugar wipes her eyes, looking grimly at Brittany, and begins to stand up. “I’m done with this prank. I’m calling Grandma.”

“It’s not a prank, Sugar. Your father is a warlock, and me, Aunt Britt, your grandmother, we’re all witches. And you’re a witch too.”

“Right, because of before? Seriously, does Grandma have you punishing me for that stupid costume? Because this isn’t funny!”

“They’re not trying to be funny.” Kurt says from the center of the table, and Sugar screams again, shooing the cat away from her and covering her face.

“Sugar, let’s start over. Your father lives in our magic book.” Brittany tells her, and Santana shakes her head, covering her face much like Sugar just did. “Wait, give me one more try. Okay. Woo. Your father is a witch, and your mother is a mortal. As a result, you are a witch, but because you’re also half-mortal, your powers didn’t develop until your sixteenth birthday. What happened tonight was your first levitation. Because it’s kind of a little bit against the rules for witches to marry mortals…I don’t know, some liability stuff or something, your father got in a lot of trouble, and that’s why you were sent to live with us.”

“No, really, how long did it take you guys to come up with this? Because it’s not even a funny joke!”

“It’s not a joke, Sugar, look.” Santana points to herself, ending up in a unicorn costume of her own, then doing the same to Brittany. “Less scary if we’re unicorns?”

“Oh my God.” Sugar gasps. “Oh my God, oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Cool, right?” Brittany raises her eyebrows hopefully, but Sugar just shakes her head. Trying to figure out what to do, Brittany holds up a vase. “Look, give your magic a try. Point right here at this, and picture turning it into an apple.”

“Not cool!” Sugar gasps. “No! I’m already going to be a freak enough staring a new school right in the middle of junior year, and now you’re trying to tell me I’m a witch? I don’t want to be, take the powers back!”

“We can’t do that, honey. They’re in you, just like they’re in us. We’ve been doing this for almost three-hundred-fifty years, and sometimes it sucks, but mostly it’s pretty great.” Santana tells her, turning the vase into an apple, then plucking it from Brittany’s hand and taking a bite. “Great.”

“You’re really not kidding, are you?”

“We’re not kidding.” Santana tries to squeeze Sugar’s hand again.

“I…like…I’m not sure what to even do.”

“I was born in the Other Realm, which is basically like, an entire other universe with just witches and warlocks.” Brittany begins, catching Santana’s nod. “We moved to Salem when I was twelve, because of your grandfather’s job. Let’s just say, the late sixteenth century was not the time to be a witch in America.”

“Okay, so now are you just telling me things to freak me out? Because…Aunt B, trust me, I already am.”

“I’m not. I’m just telling you it to make the point that being a witch in this realm was a total adjustment for me. I know it’s not the same, but I’ve managed to get through over three centuries of hiding my powers, I promise you, we’ll help you survive high school.”

“Did they even have high school when you were sixteen?”

“Well…no, not for girls. But we did have witch trials, so…”

“Britt, honey.” Santana shakes her head, figuring this is not the best time to bring that up. “Sugar, remember how your grandma was talking about the house being sealed to trick-or-treaters tonight?”

“I guess? I mean, she talks a lot, so I tune out half the stuff she says.”

“Okay, so basically, what I’m saying is that there are tons of protections that’ll keep you safe, and the reason you’re with us, is because we’re going to help you learn how to control your magic, and go through high school pretty normally.” Santana promises. “And we’re going to have fun!”

“Yeah, sounds like a blast.” Sugar rolls her eyes. “Can’t I just use this magic, or whatever, to turn back time to before you told me I was a witch? You could just like…tell me you rigged my dumb bed, and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

“We can’t do that, honey.” Santana bites her lip, realizing this parenting thing is already so much harder than she expected, especially when she doesn’t know what to say to make things better.

"Worth a shot. So, I’m just going to be a witch now?”

“Technically you already were.” Brittany fidgets in her seat. “But yes, now that you’re sixteen, you have your magic, you just have to learn how to use it.”

“And somehow, the Witches Council, or, as I like to call it, Council of Dumb Decisions—” Kurt finally speaks again. “Decided these two get to keep all the misfits.”

“Shut up, Kurt.” Swatting him off the table, Santana sucks her teeth. “Don’t listen to him.”

“Is this like…I get a talking cat as a birthday gift or something?”

“Not a cat.” Kurt mewls from the floor, ego bruised by Santana’s swatting. “This is just a totally temporary situation.”

“It’s a long story.” Brittany shakes her head. “One that we’re not going into tonight.”

“God.” Sugar rubs her temples, shaking her head as she does. “Is anything going to be normal anymore?”

“Normal is relative.” Santana shrugs. “There are so many mortal things that we’re just…totally flabbergasted by, eventually, all of the witch stuff will feel perfectly ordinary to you.”

“Babe, you’re cute when you say flabbergasted.”

“Seriously though, Aunt Santana…that’s like…a really old word.”

“Hey, I’ve lived through a lot of words. I still forget if we’re supposed to say neat-o, or groovy, or swell…”

“Awesome…or sweet…or even just cool.” Sugar corrects her.

“So, Shug, do you want to try some magic tonight?” Brittany asks, still mooning at Santana.

“No, not really. I think I just…want to go to bed. There’s probably a possibility that this is a dream bought on by the bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that I ate in the pantry at Grandma’s, so I’m going to like…just sleep that off, and I’m still a witch in the morning, then I’m probably going to have to accept it.”

“Do you want us to come up with you?” Santana offers.

“Will you?” Sugar’s voice is small and helpless, almost like she’s much younger than she really is, and both Santana and Brittany feel a sort of pang in their chests.

“Of course, honey. Come on.”

Sugar begins up the stairs, and they follow behind, Brittany’s hand on the small of Santana’s back. When they get into the bedroom, Kurt curls up on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and Sugar looks around, taking it all in. Nothing is upset in the room, it all looks the same as when she went to bed the first time, but everything is different, after what she learned. Hesitating for a moment, she takes a breath, and then she goes to Santana, wrapping her arms around her, and tucking her face into her shoulder. From behind, Brittany wraps her arms around both of them, and they hold Sugar like that until she makes the choice to breakaway herself, teary-eyed, and exhausted looking.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid.” Brittany tells her, stroking her hair one last time.

“Promise?”

“I do.” She nods, looking at the nod that comes from Santana.

When Sugar gets back into bed, Santana can’t help but tuck the blanket over her, though she knows she’ll likely levitate again, and be without it. Brittany turns out the lights for her, and they stand there just watching, half-expecting Sugar to open her eyes and roll them. But instead, she falls asleep, and Santana leans her head on Brittany’s shoulder, just having a little bit of a moment as they see their niece before them.

“Do you think we’re terrible at this?” Brittany asks, her voice the softest whisper.

“I don’t. I think it’s complicated and confusing for her right now, but she’s a teenager, so everything is complicated and confusing anyway. We’ll get the hang of dealing with it. And you know, I really think I like having her here.”

“I know it’s only been like…three hours, but I do too. You’re cute when you talk to her.”

“I’m cute always.” Santana rolls her tongue, and Brittany laughs, kissing her temple. “This anniversary was definitely different, but it was good different. The start of the next phase of our lives.”

“Two middle-aged witches and a teenager.”

“Call CBS, I think we have a series for them.”

“We both know Sugar will be the interesting one.” Brittany giggles, pulling Santana so she can kiss her lips. “May as well call it Sugar the Teenage Witch.”

“That’s cute, Britt.”

“Obviously, I did come up with it.”

“I love you.” Santana sighs, leading Brittany out of Sugar’s bedroom and into their own, using her finger to close the door behind you.

“I love you too. Now…no more interruptions.”

[mizcalculate-miztery]

Thoughts on Anti and Dark

So because of recent events in both fandoms, I started thinking about Dark and Anti, and how I personally view them. Because there’s no denying I love both characters. And everyone always likes to compare them (which is completely understandable), so I started comparing them in my own mind. Comparing how they operate, what I find so terrifying about them, their personalities, basically everything. And I just kinda wanted to get my thoughts about them down on paper (or… document I guess). So here’s some personal thoughts I have about Dark and Anti.

(Prepare for opinions! Also, like I said I love both of these characters. Just because I might say one is stronger than the other, or scarier doesn’t mean I like the other any less. Remember that this is all MY opinion and thoughts! You can agree or disagree with whatever ^_^)

Anti

Ah, the Glitch Bitch. Such a fascinating character, especially of late as Jack continues to flesh him out. We were first introduced to the knife-wielding weirdo last Halloween when he slit Jack’s throat on camera before taking over. Wow. That’s quite the entrance. It’s disturbing and wrong and terrifying. And it’s made even more sinister by the glassy-eyed stare Jack gives the camera as he does it. So with his appearances leading up to and including Halloween, we learned several things about Anti:

1) He’s absolutely ruthless, cruel, and sadistic. He kills Jack for seemingly no reason other than he finds it fun or satisfying in some way.

2) He’s calculated, sneaky, and smart as hell. I know that often times the fandoms portray Anti as the cocky, sloppy, hyper-active, and boisterous newcomer in comparison to Dark (which I agree with to an extent; Dark’s character is based on the fact that he can manipulate those around him into abandoning their beliefs; his character and powers seem based in the psyche and mind as opposed to Anti’s more physical powers), but Anti can be just as tactful and deceptive as Dark. He hid messages in the tags of the videos, he appeared at specific times during gameplay because he wanted to give us hints by highlighting certain words or events.

And in my mind, he leaves hints for us because, again, it’s fun for him. He likes playing little games. Anti enjoys seeing us struggle to connect the dots, and laughs when we figure things out just a little too late, taunting us. He loves the attention we give him and he knows that so long as he keeps leaving a trail of crumbs, we’ll follow it. And that means he has control over us. Humans want closure and completion to any story. And yet, Anti is still an enigma for the most part. We kinda know what he wants, we kinda know his plan. But we’re still not 100% sure of anything! We aren’t even 100% sure of what Anti even is or how his powers work. Is he a demon? A computer virus or glitch? He seems capable of possessing people, travelling in time, and messing with electronics. But who knows what else he can do? All these “maybes” and questions make us want to know more, and so we keep watching (this is very similar to how FNaF became so popular- just enough clues and evidence to keep people interested in learning the entire story). We’re curious about Anti and that’s our ultimate downfall. You know what they say: curiosity killed the Jack.

In many ways, Anti is childish. He’s loud and brash, loves playing games, throws spectacular tantrums, and can often be surprisingly profound. And all of this is great! There’s a reason that creepy, evil children are a horror trope. I also think that this works great in regards to Anti being Jack’s dark persona. Anti and Jack are very similar, not just in terms of looks. Basically everything I said above about Anti being childish can be applied to Jack. But the brilliant part is how, even though Jack and Anti are so similar, they couldn’t be more different. Jack’s sometimes childish behavior is endearing. He’s often cutesy and excited, but can and will whine if something doesn’t go his way. His enthusiasm and energy are what many people enjoy about his content. And then when he gets into a pensive state, he says some really inspiring, and genuine things. Anti is the same way. He’s always teeming with energy, and his manner of speaking is very similar to Jack’s in that they are both a little silly and childish. He isn’t verbose, he’s simple and to the point. “Always watching,” “tired of playing pretend,” “there are no strings on me,” “I wonder what will happen to your favorite boy,” etc. All very simple, something you could absolutely see a child saying. But even despite his common vernacular, what he says can be profound. Just look at all the theories about what he says and how much each line could mean. Anti takes what is good and liked about Jack, and twists it into its worst self.

Let’s get into some of Anti’s symbolism, specifically eyes. Now, Jack has had eyes as a staple of his channel since forever, and Septiceye Sam has been the mascot for as long as I’ve known of Jack. But Anti takes this concept one step further. Not only do his eyes change color constantly, but he’s always been very focused on what eyes do. In his first full appearance, he mocks us for just watching as he took over and eventually killed Jack. He seems very interested in the bystander effect. We were the bystanders who noticed the weird glitches in Jack’s videos leading up to Halloween, but just sat and watched to see what would happen next. We were curious because we thought everything was a game, and that Jack was just doing something nice for the fans who created Anti. And while this is true in reality, it isn’t true in regards to the story that Anti is apart of. Because Anti is part of a story. All of Jack’s Egos are. So is Jack. And so are we.

This is one of the reasons Anti is so cool a character. Because we know he’s a character, and yet he can make things seem so real. Anti’s story has become very much like an ARG like Marble Hornets. Anti openly talks to us so that we become a part of his story. He says things to make us feel as if we can do things to help. He tells us that we’re just sitting here and watching, so we try to retaliate, to do something (ex. #septicsave). But while we may be a character, all we'll ever be to the other characters are a set of eyes. Whenever Anti talks to us, it’s pre-recorded. All we can really do is watch. We can try to do things all we want. In the end, Anti’s already done whatever he’s going to do in his story. He gives us a false sense of power and choice, when we really don’t have any. (Disclaimer: I know that Jack loves theories and suggestions from the community and often takes them into consideration when crafting the story around his characters. Again, in reality, we do have a choice and influence, but so far in the story, we don’t.)

And Anti also knows we’ll never stop watching. He seems to also like the concept of “seeing is believing.” Because the obvious answer to “beating” Anti is to stop watching. But then what? Will he truly lose? How can we know if we don’t watch? Unless we see him lose, who’s to say he didn’t complete his take over, his killing spree, whatever it is he wants? We would have to rely on faith and hope alone. And unfortunately, humans aren’t particularly adept at trusting what they can’t perceive with their senses. So in the end, we watch because we feel as if we have to. And we keep going round and round in circles.

And that’s why I love the concept that’s been floating around recently about how god damn interesting and horrifying the idea of a livestream where Anti tortures Jack is. A deep-web “red room”-esque scenario where the viewers tell Anti what to do to Jack. Not only is that just unsettling in premise, it’s horrifying because some people would actually suggest awful things (because humans are morbidly fascinated by the suffering of others). And again, the only way to stop it would be for everyone to stop watching. And that would never happen. Because if no one’s watching, who knows what Anti would do to Jack? Who's to say he wouldn’t just torture him without us watching? And then there will always be the people who want to see what Anti would do to Jack. So no matter what, Anti wins. And we just sat and watched.

I started writing this entire analysis a few weeks before the charity livestream, but I’m adding it in because holy fuck. Other people who are much more eloquent and concise than I am have already analyzed everything I’m about talk about, but I wanna get my thoughts out.

So. That was a fun time! I can’t even fathom how many people stayed up all night to watch those damn security cameras! I was one of the people who was up all night (I had finals and papers to write so I was up anyway), and I don’t think I saw the stream dip below 6,000 people watching. That’s insane that that many people stayed up for 20+ hours just to see what the hell was going to happen. By the time I fell asleep on Saturday, I had personally been awake for around 41-42 hours, and most of that was due to watching the streams to see what was going to happen. Anti managed to keep us glued to our screens for hours on end, stringing us along with little clips every now and again. And one of the most interesting things is that the majority of the footage wasn’t new content. Only the clips of Emma, Ethan, PJ, and Robin doing their spooky stuff was new. And yet we kept sitting there watching. Just the amount of influence Anti has over us is astounding! Again, a lot of the Overnight Watch stream connects with things I’ve already said. How do we beat Anti? Stop watching. But what if we miss something? So we keep watching. Circles. We sat by as eyes (security cameras) while we saw all this creepy stuff happened. Anti won BIG TIME. He was able to see just what lengths we’re willing to go to just for him.

So now that I’ve beaten how Anti operates into the ground, let’s talk about why he’s scary to me. Because he is. One thing about Anti is that he’s unstable and unpredictable with deadly mood swings. Anything that is unpredictable is nerve wracking because it plays into the fear of the unknown. Like I mentioned before, we aren’t certain about much of what Anti does. We’ve theorized and theorized until our theorizers are sore, but we don’t know much other than the fact that Anti killed Jack, and most likely Schneep. Even Anti’s movement is unpredictable due to his glitches. This is something that really unsettles me because I’m a visual person who likes to be able to keep track of things visually. For example, I’m also rather scared of bugs, but so long as I can see where a bug is, or I’m able to track it going around a room, I don’t freak out about it. But as soon as one buzzes past my ear without me seeing it, I get very startled and flinch HARD. So Anti’s glitching everywhere is also pretty unsettling for me as I can’t predict or track it visually. He also is more than willing to physically harm us as well. That’s another scary thing about Anti. He wields a large fucking carving knife and seems very ready to use it. Everyone has a pain threshold that they don’t want to cross. So Anti is also scary because he gives the very real threat of unbearable pain.

So for me, Anti’s scariness comes from a combination of his unpredictable nature and movement, his enthusiasm for hurting people and his propensity for causing pain. He also tends to have a slow buildup to a reveal. He drops hints for sometimes months at a time before he makes a full appearance. That sense of anticipation is also nerve wracking (it’s the entire basis for the thriller genre). For me, though, it actually makes it less scary because at least there’s some solid hints that something will happen soon. This isn’t to say these are the only reasons he’s scary (after all, he’s also pretty good at playing mind games like I stated before. But the types of mind games he plays don’t scare me; I just find them impressive and clever more than scary). This is just why he’s scary to me.

So that’s a lot of my thoughts on Anti. I think he’s a very cool character and Jack has taken him in a super interesting direction. Plus, the use of medium and the gimmicks and plot points he derives from his medium are a goddamn treat to theorize and write about.

Dark

The monochromatic monarch, the VHS Cunt himself, Darkiplier. Has this guy seen some development this year or what? From a weird emo roomate to a master manipulator, Dark’s Valentine’s Day reintroduction was quite the spectacle that I was not expecting (I mean, up until Mark called the horror show “The Dark Mark”). So, with the retooling of his character, what do we know about Dark now?

1) He’s a master manipulator and just “the worst.” Mark confirmed this during one of the charity livestreams where he discussed “A Date with Markiplier” in detail. He clearly says that Dark wants to use us and he’s not our friend. He will pretend to be anything we want him to be in order to gain our trust before throwing us aside once our usefulness has run out.

2) He’s a being from another dimension who just so happens to bleed into our dimension that does not follow the laws of physics, similar to Warfstache. He and Mark are two different people.

3) Dark is jealous of Mark’s success and accomplishments and wants to take them for himself.

As the year has gone on, we’ve seen that Dark has a rather large plan forming. He’s working with other Egos (especially Warfstache) in order to take control of the channel, as we saw in Markiplier TV (if we assume this is part of the “canon.” I personally do, but I know a lot of people have been questioning it lately).. And then the huge bomb that was “Who Killed Markiplier?” dropped to give us the origins of both Dark and Wilford. And from that, we also now know that Dark’s plan for a takeover is not just a result of jealousy and a lust for power, but also for revenge and retribution.

So in many ways, we know a lot more about Dark than Anti. We have the basic plan, backstory, and motive. But there is still a treasure trove of stuff we don’t know about Dark. We don’t know the total extent of his powers or exactly how they operate, and we don’t know his exact plan. Similarly to Anti, this ambiguity keeps us watching and theorizing.

But, with the reveal of Dark’s backstory, he now has another hook into the viewers that keeps our attention on him and keeps us easy to manipulate: he’s a sympathetic character. To an extent at least. Okay, so we all know he’s a master manipulator, a horrible person, and a villain. But a villain is only a villain in the eyes of someone opposing them. A villain is their own hero. And when you give a perceived villain sympathetic motivation, it can often change the way viewers look at that character. Dark’s motivation is reasonable. Anyone can see that he has reason to be angry. WKM!Mark destroyed the lives of the Colonel, Damien, Celine, the Detective, and the DA. The way Mark framed WKM’s ending, Dark becomes sympathetic. Because of WKM!Mark’s antics, both “halves” of Dark lost everything. Damien had his body snatched and lost both his best friends. Celine also lost her body and lost both of the men she at one point loved. Betrayal and loss of loved ones are two of the most effective ways to drudge up sympathy for a character because at some point, most people have experienced the pain of one or both. In this way, the viewers can now easily view Dark as the “hero” of sorts while Mark becomes the villain.

But giving a villain a sympathetic backstory can be very dangerous because it can give the villain one more way to manipulate the viewer. Mark has gone on record in his “I EXPLAIN EVERYTHING” livestream that Damien and Celine aren’t really their own entities anymore. The dark energy of the House combined the worst parts of them together along with itself to create a new being: Dark. Damien and Celine are no longer in Dark. Not as we knew them, anyway. And yet, I can guarantee you, if Dark ever felt it was needed, he would create projections of Damien and Celine to make it seems like they’re still in there. And they would reach out to us and gain our sympathy and trust. Reassure us that this is for the best, and that it’s all part of their plan. How they’ve missed us and just wish we could go back to the way things were before that dreaded poker game. And we would crumble. Dark would wrap us around his finger, make us care again, and trust him more. Because they were still there. It wasn’t just Dark. They weren’t bad people. We had to help them, had to believe them! After all, what do we always say? They deserved better.

Dark is a mastermind. Due to his manipulative nature, he’s always thinking dozens of steps ahead so that no matter the circumstance, those he wants to control will stay firmly trapped under his thumb. And this bitch will prey on anything to get what he wants. Any sort of weakness a person has, he will exploit. Heck, he’ll exploit their strengths, too. Dark, to me, is a people reader. He’s observed so many people and figured out how they operate. He’s figured out which people are most responsive to positive reinforcement, and those who are most responsive to negative reinforcement. And he’s content to observe. Dark is patient, while Anti can be more impulsive. Dark does not mind waiting and biding his time to make sure he is successful. There’s a reason he’s had fewer appearances than Anti (again, story-wise not logistics based).

Just like Anti and Jack, I adore how Dark and Mark compare to one another. Even though we know Dark isn’t exactly Mark’s dark persona, it’s really intriguing to see how Mark took that concept of his dark side and fleshed it out. Because again, Dark and Mark have very similar personalities and strengths. Both are very charismatic and are good at influencing people, extraordinarily smart, and emotionally driven (in many ways, including temper). But the way they use these gifts is how they differ and why it’s so interesting to observe. Mark uses his charisma and influence to better the world, whether it be through charity or simply giving people who may have given up a reason to live. He uses his intelligence and creativity to entertain millions and is always coming up with interesting ways to make what he does more successful (just look at the recent livestreams). In contrast, Dark uses his charisma to charm people into doing and getting what HE wants. He uses his gifts selfishly instead of selflessly. He uses his gift as an influencer to coerce people into doing horrible things (like shooting Mark in ADWM), and his intelligence lets him figure out how the human mind operates so that he can better control it. It’s such a cool concept to have these two people be so similar and yet they are completely different.

Okay, now, why is Dark scary to me? Well, as a said before, Dark seems to operate in the realm of the mind. We haven’t seen him pull anything particularly violent besides pulling a gun on Mark. Other than that, he’s been trying to manipulate us and others through our emotions and thoughts. As someone who has always taken pride in how sharp my mind is, it scares me to think that Dark could turn my own mind against me just by taking my weaknesses and words and twisting them to mean something negative. I don’t like being outsmarted, and I could absolutely believe that I would somehow talk myself into a trap by being outsmarted by Dark. I like to think that I would be able to see through his charade and not be bothered by his words, but I just don’t know. I’m only human and there are some very vulnerable parts of me that could be prodded to make me even more vulnerable. And while I don’t think I wear my heart on my sleeve, I don’t think I hide my emotions well, and Dark will take whatever he sees and attack with it. Another thing about Dark is that there is still so much that is hidden about him. We haven’t seen enough of him in action to determine much. It seems he’s acting on the horror concept of “the less you see the monster, the scarier it becomes.” And god damn has that been executed well. We’ve only had extended exposure to Dark in ADWM. All other appearances have been quick cameos where we get a better sense of his personality, but not much else. Again, him biding his time has proved very effective. He proved he was a threat before disappearing into the shadows to watch everyone worry themselves into a tizzy. We’ve seen a snippet of his power, but who knows what else he’s capable of? That’s why there are so interpretations of him. He takes on the powers and forms we are personally most afraid of. He’s become the monster in the dark. He’s a looming menace which has always scared me. The last thing that scares me is that I can see parts of myself in him. I’m prideful and I have quite the temper when pushed far enough. I’m ambitious and my thoughts can be viciously vengeful. I think back through my life and wonder how much in my life would have had to occurred differently for me to become a manipulative piece of garbage (hint: less than you would think). And that’s a horrifying thought to me.

So Dark is scary due to his intelligence, his ambiguity, and the fact that he’s realistic enough that I see characteristics of myself in him. Dark’s appearances also don’t have the build up that Anti’s have. We get an occasional hint or two, but they’re subtle enough that it makes us question whether or not we’re looking into things too much. Then out of nowhere, an appearance happens and the entire fandom is sent reeling. I think the most build up we’ve gotten for Dark is the week long clue hunt the led to Who Killed Markiplier?. And that wasn’t even built up FOR Dark. This more guerilla warfare style of appearances is much more effective in scaring me because it leaves me feeling nervous all the time. Between Anti appearances, I’m able to calm down. But because of the suddenness of Dark’s appearances, I’m always high strung wondering when, where and how he’s going to strike next. Because I can “feel” him watching, calculating his next move, but I can never figure out where he is to prepare myself for the next appearance. So for me, it more effectively scares me as I feel more of a loss of control.

And that’s a lot of my thoughts on Dark! He’s very much the style of villain I’m drawn to, so I have a lot of fun theorizing about and analyzing him. I love that Mark embraced this character and made him his own because he’s made a very formidable and compelling villain! And I can’t wait to see where this story goes next and how Mark will burn the fandom down next time!

[halloweentv]

Netflix and chills!

v.2017

Celebrate Halloween on Netflix! Below is a list of Halloween themed shows and movies available on Netflix streaming that you can play for Halloween! Enjoy!

Stranger Things

S1 After a game of D and D with his friends Will disappears. His friends try to find him but instead find a mysterious girl

S2

Takes place during Halloween and the boys dress as the ghostbusters. 

Supernatural S4 It’s the Great Pumpkin Sam Winchester” Investigating two mysterious deaths in a small town, Sam and Dean discover a witch is sacrificing people to summon a dangerous demon. 

Friends

S8 “The One with the Halloween Party” At Monica’s Halloween party, Phoebe becomes attracted to her two sister’s fiancé.

Frasier

S5 “Halloween” Niles hosts a Halloween party for the Library Association where the guests dress as literary characters.

S9 “Room full of heroes” Frasier has a Halloween party and asks his guests to dress as their heroes. 

American Horror Story

S1 “Halloween Part 1 & 2″ the ghosts can leave the house on halloween night. Tate runs into some ghosts from his past. S3 “Fearful Pranks Ensue” the witches raise the dead on Halloween S4 “Edward Mordrake Part 1 & 2″ the freaks don’t want to perform on halloween in fear of a ghost coming to visit.

Freaks and Geeks “Tricks and Treats” - Lindsay spends Halloween making mischief with her new friends while Sam goes trick or treating even though he’s in High School now.

Parenthood S2 “Orange Alert” The Bravermen’s gear up to celebrate their favorite holiday, Halloween! Max wants to go trick or treating for the first time, so his parents do their best to prepare him for the night, since he is on the spectrum.

Parks and Recreation S2 “Greg Pikitis” Leslie enlists the help of Dave and Andy in order to catch a local teen vandal. Meanwhile, Ann struggles to make her Halloween party fun and gets help from an unlikely source. S4 “Meet n Greet” Ben is mad when Andy and April decide to throw a Halloween party at their house without asking him. Tom emcees an event for Leslie’s campaign but manages to also promote his company. Meanwhile, Ron and Ann give Andy and April an unusual wedding present.

13 Reasons Why

“Tape 2 Side B” Its Halloween in the present and Clay strikes back at someone who wronged Hannah. In the past Hannah thinks someone is stalking her. 

Jem

S2 “Trick or Techrat” Jem and friends encounter spooky mishaps while preparing an old opera house for a Halloween concert

Fuller House

S2 “Curse of Tanner Manor” DJ attempts to throw the scariest Halloween party for Max. Stephanie works as a zombie at a haunted house.

Star Trek TOS

S2 “Catspaw” Kirk and the crew land on a planet with a spooky castle and witches.

Pac’s Scary Halloween

Sinister Dr. Pacenstein schemes to swap bodies with Pac during a Halloween party.

Pac Man and the Ghostly Adventures

S1 “A Berry Scary Night”  Count Pacula attempts to drain the last yellow orb in Pac World on Halloween night. 

S2 “The Shadow of the were-pac” Pac and his friends are confronted by spooky space ghost pirates. 

The Real Ghostbusters

S1 “When Halloween was forever” An ancient spirit shows up in New York to make Halloween last forever. And Frankenstein is groovin!

S2 “Halloween II ½” While everyone is trick or treating on Halloween Sam Hain escapes.

S4 “The Halloween Door” Crowley wants to end Halloween once and for all and does so even without the help of the ghost busters. 

Cult of Chucky

Chucky has some scores to settle with some old enemies.

Young Frankenstein

In this pitch perfect parody, the grandson of the infamous Dr. Frankenstein follows in his footsteps and creates a monster and puts on the ritz!

Tales of Halloween

Anthology series of shorts set on Halloween. Including trick or treating aliens and kidnappers in way over their heads.

Mr. Young

S3 “Mr. Candy” The gang are hungover from too much candy the previous night and struggle to put together the events from Halloween.

Cheers

S3 “Fairy tales can come true” Cliff meets the woman of his dreams at the bar on Halloween night but is afraid of meeting her when he’s not in costume. 

S10 “Bar Wars V: The Final Judgement” Sam’s latest trick may have killed Gary, but is it really Gary who is playing the trick on Sam?

Charmed S3 “All Halliwell’s Eve” The sister’s go to the 1600’s to save a witch and her baby

Family Guy S9 “Halloween on Spooner Street” Stewie’s candy is stolen by bullies

F is for Family

S1 F is for Halloween” Frank secretly torpedoes Sue’s shot at a real job and a bully leaves Bill afraid to don his costume.

How I met Your Mother S1 “Slutty Pumpkin” Ted holds out hope of seeing the Slutty Pumpkin, a girl he met at a Halloween before. S7 “The Slutty Pumpkin Returns” Ted finally meets the slutty pumpkin again.

Girl Meets World

S1 “Girl Meets World of Terror″ Augie hosts scary Halloween tales and meets a monster under his bed.

S2 “Girls Meets World of Terror 2″ Riley and Maya discover the ghost a flapper living in the bay window. 

S3 “Girl Meets World of Terror 3″ Augie does a scary time theater and shows what the world would be like if Riley and Maya never became friends. 

Power Rangers S1 “Trick or Treat” Kimberly goes on a Halloween game show…cuz those exist. S1 “Life’s a Masquerade” Isn’t set on Halloween but has a cool Frankenstein monster in it. and costumes. S2 “Zedd’s Monster Mash” Tommy faces some real Halloween monsters after he’s kidnapped by Goldar. 

Power Rangers Samurai “Party Monsters” and “Trickster Treat”

Power Rangers Megaforce “Raising Spirits” 

Power Rangers Dino Charge “The Ghostest with the Mostest” and in Dino Super Charge “Trick or Trial”

Dreamworks Spooky Stories “Scared Skrekless” Shrek and Co tell scary stories “Monsters vs Aliens Mutant pumpkins” Ginormica and co battle mutant pumpkins! Dreamworks Spooky Stories Vol. 2 “Monsters Vs Aliens: night of the Living Carrots” Picks up right after the previous special Also included another MVA short, Megamind, and Shrek.

From R.L. Stine: Monsterville A group of kids find out a haunted maze at the carnival is more realistic than they thought.

Mostly Ghostly 3

As Max tries to help his ghost pals Nicky and Tara find their parents, he stumbles on an enchanted crystal–and an evil new plot by Phears. 

Goosebumps

Good show for the season but the Halloween episodes in particular are S5 “The Haunted Mask” Carly Beth’s scary mask begins to change her. S5 “The Haunted Mask 2” A boy’s creepy Halloween mask won’t come off and begins to harm him. S2 “Attack of the Jack O'Lanterns” Jack O‘Lantern aliens terrorize some trick or treaters. 

Goosebumps Movie

A teen moves to a new town and falls for the girl next door but soon finds out her dad is R.L. Stine and his book characters become all too real. 

The Haunting Hour series

Another good show for the season. The halloween episode is S2 “Pumpkinhead” - a group of siblings fear the legend of a farmer who takes kids heads and turns them into pumpkins.

————- Glee S2 the class attempts to out on a performance of Rocky Horror for Halloween. 

New Girl S2 “Halloween” Jess gets hired as a zombie at a haunted house. S3 “Keaton” Jess hosts a Halloween party and a Michael Keaton batman costume helps cheer up Schmidt. Spooky Buddies The buddies encounter the Halloween Hound and evade an evil sorceror on Halloween night. . Louie S3 “Halloween/Ellie” Louie takes his daughters trick or treating and encounter some punks.

Malcolm in the Middle S2 “Halloween Approximately” -Malcolm and his brothers build the ultimate stealth weapon. S7 “Halloween” - Reese and Dewey evade an old man they egged while Loos tries to get out of work so she can trick or treat. 

My Babysitter’s a Vampire S2  "Halloweird" In a total “not rip off” of Buffy, a mask makes people turn into real-life versions of their costumes.

The Vampire Diaries S1 “Haunted” Matt takes Vicky to a haunted hous ebut the night takes a terrifying turn

That 70’s Show S2 “Halloween” The gang visit their old burnt down school while Kitty remincies about their first Halloween in the house. S3 “Too Old to Trick or Treat, Too young to Die” A Halloween episode filled with parodies of Alfred Hitchcock movies: “Rear Window”, “Vertigo”, “The Birds”, “North By Northwest” and “Psycho”.

CSI Miami “By the Book” A body is found that appears to have had the blood drained by a Vampire

Bones “Mummy in the Maze” A mummy found in a Halloween maze leads to an investigation. Bones has a Wonder-ful costume!

The Office S2 Halloween Downsizing leads corporate headquarters to order Michael to fire somebody by the end of October. Michael procrastinates until Halloween, when he still has not decided whom to fire. When he decides to fire Creed, Creed manages to convince Michael to fire Devon. S6 Koi Pond While on the way to a business meeting, Michael falls into a koi pond. The staff tease him so he holds an anti-bullying seminar. Pam and Andy go cold-calling to stir up some new business; they reluctantly use clients’ mistaking them as a couple to their advantage. S7 Costume Contest Michael freaks out when Darryl goes over his head by taking an idea to corporate. The employees partake in a Halloween costume contest in the office. Meanwhile, Pam tries to get the truth from Danny about their dating history. S8 Spooked Erin works to make a spooky, non-childish Halloween party, with help from Gabe. Dwight becomes friends with Robert’s son, and Pam and Jim debate the existence of ghosts. Meanwhile, Robert tries to figure out everyone’s deepest fears in order to culminate a ghost story.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia S6 “Who got Dee Pregnant” The gang think back to their Halloween party to figure out who got Dee pregnant.

Pretty Little Liars S2 “The First Secret” in a flashback some backstory to the mystery of A is revelaed. S3 “This is a Dark Ride” The girls get aboard the Rosewood ghost train S4 “Grave New World” A clue suggests that Ali may still be alive so they crash a cemetery party to find her.

[theepolynesian]

Together Again

Summary: Thranduil is brought to your world and vice-versa.

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Word Count: 2,756

Master Lists: Drabbles/Imagines, and Completed Series

Requested by: 

     @annajolras:  May I request a lil story? Thranduil x reader where he is swept into the 'real world' (modern au) and reader (very short, like 5'4") shows him around and stuff.... fluff please😘 I love your writing❤❤ thank you xxx

     Anon: Hello! I love all your work so I'd figured I would try a request... A nerdy lord of the rings/hobbit fan from are world gets pulled into middle earth by the Valar to change the outcome of the battle of five army's? Feel free to run with it however you'd like!

A/n: sorry that it’s shit.

You look at the man at your front steps with a shocked face. You had to be dreaming. That was the only explanation. Well the only plausible explanation as to why, The Elvenking Thranduil was standing at your door. That has to be it.

“You are a very amazing Thranduil cosplayer, but Halloween is not for another three months,” you say, raising your brow at the man.

He could pass as Lee Pace’s twin that's for sure including height. 6’5” was damn tall. Anything above your 5’4” stature was tall to you.

“I do not understand your words, human. What exactly is cosplay and Halloween?”

“VERY funny. I didn't think you were that dense,” you say, rolling your eyes as a force of habit.

“You dare speak to me like that?” he booms and you back away, afraid.

He sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“Can you just tell me where I am?. One minute I was in my throne room the next I'm in this area that I do not recognize with houses more exquisite than Gondor,” he explains and you sigh.

Maybe this was actually Thranduil and for some reason the Valar had sent him here.

You needed to get to the bottom of this.

A few hours and a couple of shots of vodka later, you finally finished explaining everything to the King.

“So I don’t know how you got here, but I think you’ll just have to wait it out and you can do that here. But now it’s time for bed. I have a guest room and extra clothes inside there as well. You cannot be walking around in a dress,” you say.

“It’s a dress robe,” Thranduil argues.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t fit in,” you say, standing and leading him to his bedroom, “we can talk about the rest of it in the morning.”

You make your way to your room and get into bed, staring at the ceiling.

What the hell were you supposed to do?

-

“Y/n!” You hear and you immediately shoot out of your bed, now wide awake, running to the source.

Thranduil did not seem like an elf who would yell for no reason so there had to be something wrong. You may have just met the elf but you got protective easily.

You pause in the bedroom doorway as you realize that Thranduil was in no trouble at all.

He was simply staring at the TV with wide amazed eyes.

Your panic settles into a bout of anger.

“Are you dying or something?” You ask irritably.

“How did those people get into the box? Why are they in a box?” He asks panicked.

You sigh.

“It’s a thing called television. Cameras captures a moving an image and they project it to the television. The thing that you’re watching now.”

“But are they really that small?”

“No. They’re normal sized men. The image is downsized to fit the screen. Now can you please get dressed? I don’t have any groceries so we have to go out to eat.”

Making your way down the stairs, you think about the elvenking and how out of character he seemed.

In the movie, he was cold and calculating, in the book he wasn’t as bad, but a very concerned elf king was not what you were expecting. Especially concern for those not of his race.

You make a cup of coffee and wait for the king to make an appearance.

You can’t help but choke as you see him in tight jeans, a white shirt and a read and black flannel with a man bun.

JFC he rocked that man bun.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” you reply a bit sharply.

“You choked.”

“Did not.”

“Elves have very good hearing. You choked.”

You shrug.

“Never thought you would wear a bun.”

His hand reaches out to touch his hair.

“Yes. Well, I saw it on your image thing and I thought it would be best to try and fit in.”

You look him over and notice his pointed ears. You needed to fix it because pointy ears were very suspicious. You walk up to the king and pull a few strands loose so that it’ll cover his ears.

“Do you always touch those above you?” he breathes and you roll your eyes at his haughtiness, ignoring the closeness.

“You are my equal in this realm. I am neither below or above you,” you retort.

He raises his brow.

“I meant people taller than you,” he says and you pause before laughing.

That earns a smile from him.

“I really need to stop being so uptight, don’t I?” you ask him, stepping back.

He shrugs, giving you a small smile.

“Maybe.”

You laugh again.

“Let’s go, princess,” you say and he lets out a chuckle before you both leave the house.

-

When you went shopping with the King, you did not expect it to be such an amazing day.

Contrary to popular belief, he was rather nice and funny and so carefree. He cracked quite a few jokes and you had fell for him hard within a space of one day. You didn’t want him to leave.

“So elves are things that help this santa person and they’re actually really small with bells?” Thranduil asks as you walk into your house, arms filled with groceries.

“Yes. They are supposedly the ones who make the toys to deliver to children,” you explain.

“How degrading,” he says, placing the groceries on the counter.

You watch him unload the groceries with a smile on your face.

You wanted this. You wanted someone you could settle down with. Someone you could go shopping with, laugh with, play around with. Someone who would love you as much as you would love them. You know you shouldn’t be getting attached, but you couldn’t help it. He’s an amazing guy with an amazing personality.

“What is it?”

You shake your head and look at him with a sad smile on your face.

“Nothing, princess. Let’s just get dinner started.”

You’re not really surprised to find him gone the next day as if he wasn’t even there in the first place, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch.

-

It takes you months to get over him. Although you’ve watched him on the big screen many times, it was not the same as it was talking to him in person. The Thranduil on the screen was not your Thranduil.

After watching BOTFA all the way through for the first time, you decide to hit the sheets. You were missing him again and a sad Thranduil just made you more sad. You just wish you could see him again.

Orcs. Dragons. Dwarves. Wizards.

That’s all you could dream about.

It’s not the first time that you’ve dreamed about it, definitely not, but this one was different.

In this dream, you were a part of the battle of the five armies. You saved the Durin’s lives and you were finally reunited with Thranduil.

You didn’t want this dream to end, but it does as soon as you start falling.

You didn’t understand how you could be falling when you were lying in your bed but you are and it seems to go on and on and on.

You let out an oomph as you finally land on the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

It was extremely cold for some reason. Last you checked, it was summer. A very HOT summer.

You slowly open your eyes and gone was the night replaced by day.

You hear clashing swords making you confused.

It was the 21st century. Who used swords?

Slowly, you sit up and take in the scene around you. It’s then that you realize that you were no longer in earth.

You were in Middle Earth.

Quickly standing, you look around for a weapon as an orc charges at you.

You make for the sword that was conveniently there and stab the orc before it has a chance to stab you. Those fencing classes were finally useful.

“Lass! What the hell are you doing here?” you hear and you turn to find Dwalin, Thorin, Fili and Kili.

“It’s not like it was on purpose. Believe me, it was an accident!” you reply.

“An accident?” Thorin rumbles looking you over, “what in Durin’s name are you wearing?”

“Now is not the time. We are in the middle of a war, if I’m not mistaken and you are about to be led into a trap,” you say, not really feeling like it was the time to explain a tank top and sweatpants.

“What do you mean trap?” Fili asks.

“Thorin was about to send the both of you to those towers to see if Azog was there. He is even though it doesn’t seem like it and he traps you and you die alone which is a pretty shitty way to die if I do say so myself,” you inform them.

When you realized that Fili dies alone, you were absolutely livid. Thorin had Bilbo and Kili had Tauriel and there was no one for Fili and you absolutely hated it.

“Why should we listen to a human that seemingly appears out of nowhere wearing naught but her underwear?” Thorin growls as you all spring into action, killing more orcs.

“Because it is true. If you just used your common sense, you would realize that it was a trap, but you didn’t and it got your nephews killed and that Thorin Oakenshield is not going to happen on my watch,” you growl out.

Thorin looks at you before nodding.

“We will stay together and live to fight another day,” he says and you let out a sigh of relief.

At least he was coming to his senses.

The five of you continue fighting with Bilbo joining halfway through with Legolas and Tauriel right behind him.

Thorin soon faces off with Azog and you were preparing for the last life you were supposed to save.

Azog plunges into the water and you notice that Thorin is following his body floating down the stream.

“Thorin stay away!” you shout and he looks at you confused before looking down again.

You sigh at the stupid king. You decide that the only thing that could save him now was a tackle to the ground and so you tackle him.

Not even a second later, Azog pops out of the ice with a shout.

You roll off of Thorin and the both of you immediately bring your swords up, stabbing Azog in the chest not once, but twice at the same time.

You just killed the pale orc with Thorin right beside you. What?

Ignoring your train of thought, you and Thorin both push Azog off of you and you just lay there for a few seconds, trying to gather your scattered brain.

“Is she dead?” you hear.

“Perfectly fine. Just need time to reevaluate my life.”

“Are you finally going to explain who you are and where you come from?” Thorin asks, offering you his hand. You look at it before looking at his face.

“It’s going to take a while,” you say.

“Thanks to you, I now have all the time in the world,” he says and you take his hand and then the coat that he offers you.

You explain to him every detail possible as you are joined by the company one-by-one.

“So now wait a minute lass. You’re from another world and you were brought here completely by accident?” Bofur asks and you nod, standing quickly as you realize that Thranduil must be here as well.

“Where is Thranduil?” you ask, looking at the dwarves.

“The elf ponce?” Dwalin asks.

You roll your eyes.

“Yes. The very same,” you say.

“Y/n?” you hear and you slowly turn around, immediately recognizing the voice.

There in front of you is the elf that you grew to love. He looked older. Much older and there was blood splattered across his face and he looked absolutely exhausted.

You finally remember that he was here to look for Legolas or rather his body. You knew that Legolas would still be alive at the end of The Hobbit but it still made your heart hurt to think that Thranduil was losing the only thing he had left from his wife.

“Princess!” you exclaim, running towards him and leaping into his arms.

He catches you easily and immediately wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your hair.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers and you pull back with a laugh.

“It’s only been three months, Princess, but I missed you too,” you say and he looks at you confused.

“It’s been three thousand years, y/n.”

You frown. That made no sense at all.

“I would like to explain it to you without listening ears,” he says, glaring at something in the back of you.

You turn to find Thorin holding up his hands in defense.

“We get it. We’ll leave you two alone,” and with that the company makes their way down the hill with Bilbo’s hand clasped in Thorin’s. Your OTP finally gets to become cannon!

You take a seat on one of the staircases, trying to process this information.

“So if three thousand years have passed, that means I met you in the year three thousand three hundred eighty two of the second age, meaning your father was still alive and you were still a prince,” you say, gathering all of your Tolkien knowledge.

Thranduil nods in confirmation.

“I was indeed still a prince. I had nothing to my name,” he replies and you raise your brows at the obvious lie.

“Well nothing important to my name. No son or wife. Just me and my father and his kingdom. It wasn’t until after the throne was handed to me that I found my wife, Lilliana. I was hoping beyond all hope that I would see you again and I wanted to wait for you. I wanted to I really did, but duty called and I found a wife. A wife that I loved just as much as I loved you. A wife that made me happy just like you did in the space of one day. A wife that-.”

“Died protecting your son,” you say, interrupting him and he looks at you for a second, wondering how you knew all of this information.

You had skipped telling him about the Hobbit films and books. You didn’t want to change something which is kind of ridiculous now that you thought about it. You wanted to avoid giving him information that would change the timeline, but here you were changing the timeline yourself. Ridiculous.

“That she did,” he replies and you sigh.

“What are we doing Thranduil? We’ve known each other for one day and yet we fell in love.”

“And here we are, after three thousand years of being apart, finally confessing our feelings for each other. I don’t know about you, but I think this was meant to happen.”

You look at the prince turned king.

“But what if I get taken back just like you had all those years back. I don’t think I can handle being in love with you only for it to be ripped apart once again,” you tell him truthfully.

“I do not believe that that’s going to happen again. It was no coincidence that were brought to each other, twice. Absolutely none and I just want to be happy again with you by my side.”

You smile at him.

You could finally settle down and start a family, something you never really dreamed about until you met him. You can finally be happy again.

“And I want to be by your side until death do us part.”

He places a kiss on your forehead.

“Nothing is ever going to tear us apart ever again.”

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