#i was like oh shit. i have to make sure i'm not doomed here before i start

[lyctorism]

ok so. i did this thing today where I kind of have a crush on this guy who works in the receiving department at the grocery store I work at and he works in grocery also. i was going to ask the older lady he works with that loves me and she's great i love her too but!!!!!!! she wasn't there :( so i had to ask the grocery manager who i'm also friends with (he's great i like him too)!! but i asked him. if he knew him, which he does, and i was like. so. does he have a girlfriend. and he was like!! no i don't think so. no. like definitively he was like he doesn't. and i was like great awesome. and he was like "oh why do you want me to tell him to come visit you [in your department]" and i was like nooooo............. haha..............

but basically i asked if the guy i like has a girlfriend and the consensus is no!!! and i think he might. might! like me so we might be somewhere. which hallelujah because i'll be able to leave whatever attachment i have to the last guy, who treats me like i don't exist, in hell where it belongs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[myhamartiaishubris]

Ben Hargreeves is the worst written best character and I can prove it

This is a poorly organized meta/essay about my baby boy who got massacred. Originally posted in the discord server so some of y'all have seen it already.

Let me be clear: this is a love letter to my favourite Hargreeves boy. I could write him better. I could fix him (narratively).

Here's why Ben is a great character who, paradoxically, was very badly written.

Umbrella Ben

Listen. Listen to me. Ben Hargreeves was, from the moment I saw him, my absolute favourite character. He's already dead? Doomed by the narrative before the narrative even begins? Also, an East Asian character in the year of our Lord 2018?? I was on board. And Brelly Ben gets a lot of good moments! You know that scene where Klaus is in the motel closet, tied up, and Ben says something like, "How does it feel being helpless? This is how I feel, watching my brother piss his life away." Um, hello?? That's such a delicious line.

Because up until this point Ben's been kind of quiet, in that dead broody way, or we saw his young self being soft and reluctant. But suddenly we realize, oh, Ben isn't nice. In fact, he's kind of nasty to his addict brother, and you get this kernel of a glimpse into his character. This is a character who might have been soft-spoken in life, but death and the years since have shredded him down to all his razor edges. He's still that bookish little Ben, except he's not little and he's frustrated, angry, traumatized, and in pain.

And season 2 builds on this! He's willing to violate Klaus's personal boundaries just for a taste of life again. Holy shit that's so delicious. My problem is that, especially in season 2, this isn't explored nearly as much as it could be. Ben's possession shenanigans are mostly played for comedy, when in fact we could be delving into the implications of Ben's character and his relationship with Klaus. You have this character who's kind, who (from what we know so far) represented the "good" of the academy, who loves his brother so so hard and it hurts him so bad to see Klaus hit rock bottom every time. The little "I missed you guys" in season 2? Devastating. And yet despite his goodness he is capable of being a bad person, and he repeatedly hurts those around him (namely Klaus).

So surely this is part of his arc, right? This is going to be explored and resolved. Right?

The Season 2 Ending

So the thing is, I didn't immediately hate the way they had Ben move on / die to save Viktor. I was sad to see my favourite character go, but also excited to see where the writers would take that storyline. Because, obviously, it wasn't over. Right? Obviously Ben's arc isn't finished, he hasn't resolved his frustrations, his complicated relationship with Klaus is never fully untangled, plus the rest of the family never get a moment of real closure with him (except maybe Diego). So clearly, it wasn't over. Right?

Well, in light of season 4, I can confidently come back and say that killing Brelly Ben off here was a stupidass decision.

And here's why: you've effectively splintered his arc in half. Starting from season 3, Ben is an entirely different character, with an entirely different arc that needs to be built from the ground up. While everyone else gets 4 seasons of development, Ben only gets 2, both times. And I'm so not over the fact that his arc isn't over. We saw Ben do some reprehensible shit to Klaus, especially in season 2 with all that possession shit! And we just. Never hear from him again? That's bullshit.

But anyway, since we're here, let's make peace with being here. Hey, Justin H Min is still playing a version of Ben, and he seems interesting, if way different! Surely this will have some interesting implications.

Sparrow Ben

Oh god, Sparrow Ben. In terms of Ben's character writing, season 3 is... fine. Like I said, it suffers from effectively fracturing his arc in half and having to start over, and this isn't the complicated, kind but frustrated and prickly ghost Ben I originally fell in love with. But ok, I do like Justin, and EA rep is still a win to me, so let's go with the flow.

For the most part, season 3 does a solid job. We get some solid beats relating to Ben's ambition and inferiority complex being Number 2. There's a bit of overacting on Justin's part, but hey, that's camp. (I think. I have no idea if I'm using that word right. Am I hip with the kids?)

I really, really loved Ben's moment with Sloane as she's getting married, because it highlights the core of this Ben's character: someone who desperately yearns for family but has forced himself to be all hard shell and soldier. In a way, he's the other end of Brelly Ben's spectrum. (Like forsterite and fayalite - all Mg on one end, Fe on the other.) How much of this Ben is family softness, how much of it is defense mechanism and lashing out?

And then of course - the thing I've been craving so badly - the in-universe comparison to Brelly Ben. This was done... underwhelmingly, if I'm honest. I liked that Ben had a moment of crisis where he couldn't live up to the Umbrellas' dead version of himself, and his moment with Klaus was nice, but in light of season 4 it becomes clear that we could have had more. I wanted him to have an entire arc about it - after all, it's a pretty significant aspect of your character to be "the worse version of yourself from another timeline." (Refer to @vyther16's Gongye Jiwu fic.) I feel like there's a lot of meta you could pull from that, about how your siblings who aren't your siblings look at you and see someone different. Someone you won't be. Someone you can't be, even if you tried, so why bother trying? And they really don't dig through that at all, which is disappointing.

The tentacle samurai fight is badass, though.

Season 4

Oh buddy oh boy. There's so much dumpster fire here, but I'll start with the season 3 loose ends and then move on to season 4's own problems.

1) Sloane. Luther picks Ben up from prison, so I thought they might have an interesting bonding moment over Sloane - after all, they're the two people who cared most about her. But actually no, apparently Ben doesn't give a shit about the one real sister he actually had left at the end of s3.

2) The subway thing. Wasn't he in Korea? My grasping-at-straws ass truly thought that might have been Brelly Ben in the reset timeline, and we'd get a Ben-Ben confrontation or a battle in the minds thing. But I guess that doesn't matter.

3) The Jennifer Incident. So we all know that everyone forgetting about an incident they explicitly reference is stupid, right? Especially because the name Jennifer only exists because they reference it in s3. Ben obsessively draws Jennifer, and then he doesn't recognize or know her? Kill me.

The continuation of his arc is also just sloppy, if it even exists. No more identity crisis about being the worse Ben, no more secret yearning for family or inferiority complex about being a good soldier. Suddenly his arc amounts to, uh, being an asshole and getting hit with sex pollen so powerful it ends the world.

And look, there is a world where Sparrow Ben spiking everyone with marigold could parallel with Brelly Ben's consent problems with Klaus. There is a world where Sparrow Ben dying because of Jennifer could echo Brelly Ben's death in a haunting, tragic, destined kind of way.

But, uh, none of that happens. Here we are, finally getting a Ben-centric season, and it's this. Being relegated to a plot device in your own season. Looking back and realizing that you were always the plot device, even in season 2. Carrying all that tragedy in your little ghost body and being treated like Chekov's waterlogged gun.

And I can't help but look back at season 1, Klaus trying so desperately to prove Ben's existence, and contrast it with the literal next season where a single throwaway line from Klaus sidelines Ben for a whole season. And then he dies. And he dies again.

Fucking hell.

It feels like I'm being made a fool of. Oh, you cared about this East Asian character? You wanted him to have narrative weight and character presence instead of being a plot device for the benefit of his White brothers? Idiot.

Because you'll still be here anyway, right? You'll grasp onto your crumbs for a cool EA character, you'll let us run a character through a trash compactor and keep pretending he's a good character because you latched onto this one East Asian protagonist and you don't want to admit that maybe you should have let go years before.

[partycatty]

older!johnny cage > overheard

you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss

notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]

[ masterlist ]

• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.

• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"

• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."

• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.

• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."

• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.

• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."

• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."

• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."

• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."

• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.

• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"

• your friend falls silent.

• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"

• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.

• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."

• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."

• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."

• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"

• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.

• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.

• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.

• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.

• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Been a hot minute, my friends, and I'm sorry for that.

This is something that has been sitting in my drafts for a bit and with how long it's been taking me to get other work out, I figured why not even if I'm not fully pleased with it.

I hope you enjoy regardless 💛

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 910

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced relationship, Murder (mentioned)

Please be nice, I don't write for this man often

“May I ask you something?”

It was a simple question, but one you regretted the moment it left your lips because of how it silenced the room.

Gone was the soft scratching of pen against paper as Chrollo looked toward your seated position, his expression thankfully that of neutrality mixed with a hint of slight intrigue.

You swallowed and looked down at your lap. Better than annoyance, you supposed.

“I just… I can’t stop thinking about it, and I have to ask...” Your fingers picked at the frayed ends of the couch while your graze returned to his. “Why me?”

He arched a brow, amusement creeping into his eyes. “Why you?”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Yes.” You replied with a little more conviction in your own tone this time. “Surely keeping one person alive when the rest were doomed to die is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Are you saying that you would’ve preferred to have shared the same fate as the rest of your fellow party go-ers?”

Your cringe followed by a beat of silence was more than enough of an answer, but you felt obligated to continue since you were the one who started this conversation in the first place.

“...No.” Your teeth found your bottom lip while you tried to gather your thoughts in a way you hoped would make sense, all while pushing the memory of the fundraiser-turned-bloodbath out of your mind. “I’m saying I don’t understand.”

Chrollo leaned back in his own seat, still looking directly at you. “You’re here to keep the police from doing anything foolish.”

“I know that!” The frustration in your chest made itself known. “But you could have taken anybody. One of the sponsors of the damn thing, or even some other random woman, yet you kept me alive. I want to know your reasoning for it.”

He didn’t seem upset by your outburst, if anything it just served to increase his growing interest in the conversation.

Likely because these were the most words you had ever spoken to him at a given time.

Bastard.

“I liked you.”

Such a simple answer, and one you did not expect from someone who typically played their cards so close to the chest. It threw you off whatever balance you mentally had, and you recovered with a scoff.

“You liked me?”

“Yes.”

A twitch went through your eye when he didn’t expand on that - the sound of pen on paper filling up the room once more. You refused to let the conversation die there.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was a lie, but one you were willing to risk if it meant bringing the topic back to life, and boy did it work.

Not only did he stop writing, he set the pen down on the desk in front of him and turned his whole body to face you. “Oh?”

Shit.

“I mean, I don’t know how you could decide using something like that in a situation that was such a spur of the moment.”

“What makes you think any of what I do is ‘spur of the moment’?”

That made you pause. He had a point there. In the short time that you knew him, he had proved himself to be anything but impulsive…

Your temples throbbed with a quickly encroaching headache.

“If it wasn’t, then what? Your choice was made before the bloodshed started?”

The words were spoken sarcastically, but you had no idea just how right you were until you saw his expression change from amused neutrality to one of…

Come to think of it, you had no idea what to call the look on his face. Admiration came closest to mind, but that didn’t feel right.

“You catch on fast, well done.”

You made a face, not a fan of the condescending tone. “So, what? If I’m not sacrificed to the cops in a hail of bullets, you’re going to keep me as some kind of pet?”

Amusement crept back onto his face. “Is that what you think?”

“If it is, I hope you know I’ll fight that with every fiber in my being.”

He hummed lowly, your promise of violence completely brushed to the side. “As intriguing as the notion is, I have no intention of doing such a thing to you.”

“Then what do you intend to do?”

A small smile appeared on his face, but he didn’t answer, allowing you a moment to draw your own conclusions.

When you did, you frowned.

“Not a chance.”

“Why?”

You gave him an indignant look. “You can’t seriously expect me to willingly be with you after everything that has happened.”

“I don’t, hence your current circumstances.”

Silence filled the air again after that. A nice reminder that whatever outcome you could’ve hoped for during this exchange, you were doomed to lose regardless.

All you could do was shake your head in malcontent and pick at the frayed ends of the couch again, unable to come up with anything further to say.

More amusement flickered across his face. “You do not wish to be my pet, nor to be my lover.” He sat back ever so slightly in his chair. “Tell me then, what do you wish to be?”

“Free.” You replied without a sliver of hesitation, locking eyes again with him once more. “But we both know that will never happen, will it?”

Chrollo threatened to genuinely smile at your answer and he shook his head once.

“No. It won’t.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.  

[6sleft]

oh boy,,, so a nutcracker oc, huh 🥲 more below!

based off the past drawing of the scooped beast! (the masked one is unrelated btw) i've made a bit of plot for this lil guy, it's name is octo! it's a nutcracker specimen that somehow grew up in the wild (factory, maybe on assurance?) unlike a lab and was rescued by a crew and grew attached to them

so, they start saving scrap to give it new shells as it grows (which is quite quick for how big it gets to fit in a nutcracker animatronic). they feed it meats of snare fleas and loot bugs if they come across any, though it stays at the ship so it's not in any danger. all is good with the crew, they witness the baby grow and even teach it some tricks and words!

..until the last day of quota, when they, just like every other crew working for The Company, fail to get enough scrap to sell. they know they're doomed, so on their last day before they're fired they leave octo on one of the later moons (probably dine) and say goodbye, giving it a chance at life, though it doesn't fully understand why they left it behind :[

after that, i'm not sure on the rest of the details if it grows to somehow attain a nutcracker vessel or continue to live as a scurrying lil creature, hiding behind scrap and avoiding most monsters. maybe it'll have a mentor who takes it under its wing and teaches it how to survive? like a jester or another nutcracker, though i'm not sure how they'd react to such a vulnerable thing.

when i think of the nutcracker fleshy creatures i can't help but think of octopi cause of the tendrils, hence the name octo xp i like to think the nutcrackers are quite intelligent like irl octopi though, and flexible, so for a wild nutcracker creature it's probably more prone to hide than hunt, akin to a hermit crab, whereas other nutcrackers are raised to hunt due to human influence. (coughwildwarandapocalypselorecough)

anyways, if you read this far then thanks! i'm not particularly good at making fleshed out and detailed ocs like a lot of talented people here are but god looking at them all made me want to adopt my own <3

oh and here's a variant for shits and giggles based on a friends drawing hdjg

[hannahbisssssss]

Dinner and Diatribes (Nandor the Relentless x fem!Reader)

Author's Note: When asked to write this piece, I wanted to make it special for those waiting so long for its arrival. This will be split into two parts. I currently have part one (the majority of the work) done. However, chapter two is strictly NSFW and I'm separating both parts in case that doesn't interest you. I should be done with part two by tonight, so keep an eye out for it.

Warnings: Overprotective brother Guillermo, horny Nandor (duh), and an innocent reader. Take that as you will. Blood and violence (also duh)

Word count: 11,000+

Requested by @binks1004

This will also be posted on AO3 by tonight!

I sigh softly as I finish putting the last touches on my homework. Another assignment done. I look at the clock that resides next to my desk. 12:30 in the morning: shit… I should have been out of the dorms ages ago. I promised Guillermo that I would go to sleep earlier tonight because I wanted to make my way over to his house in the morning. Well, it’s not like I haven’t gotten less sleep before and still survived. 

Suddenly, my phone rings, and I jump in surprise. I check the caller ID… Guillermo. Shit. I hesitantly pick up the phone after letting it ring a couple times.

“Hello?” My tentative voice rings out.

“You should be asleep.” Guillermo’s voice sounds disappointed but not surprised. I almost hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Why would you call me if you didn’t know I was asleep or not? Who knows, maybe you just woke me up.” There’s a hint of snarkiness in my voice. As Guillermo’s younger sister, I felt occasionally obligated to annoy him.

“You were last active on Instagram 15 minutes ago.” Guillermo’s ‘I gotcha’ voice is laid on thick.

“…Whoops?” He laughs on the other line.

“Whoops is right. You need to go to bed, Y/N.” I feel the exasperation start to rise within me.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I had homework to get done before winter break. Is that so wrong of me to want to spend my full time and attention with you when I’m there at your house?” I decide to guilt trip him. I hear Guillermo sigh before I hear heavy footsteps on the line.

“Guillermo? Who are you speaking to?” The voice is distant, but I can swear I hear the essence of a Middle Eastern accent. The phone is clearly covered by one of Guillermo’s sweaters, as I can’t hear much of the conversation after that. I think I pick up the words ‘master,’ ‘sister,’ and ‘visiting.’ By the time Guillermo uncovers the phone, he responds almost sheepishly.

“Sorry. My roommate.” I am hit with the remembrance that Guillermo has four other housemates that he lives with.

“Oh, right… who was that?” My curiosity is piqued now.

“Nandor.” Guillermo says curtly.

“Nandor.” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue. “Is he nice?” Guillermo sighs.

“Sometimes.” I laugh. 

“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine, then.” I try to assure him. 

“Sure. Y/N, please go to sleep before you end up driving over here like an exhausted zombie.” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll go to sleep, but don’t be shocked when you see I’m active on Instagram for the next 15 minutes: I have a routine, you know?” I hear Guillermo stifle a chuckle.

“Yeah, okay.”

“You know you love me.” I tease.

“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean you can’t be insufferable.” He teases back.

“That’s the fun of having a sibling, I think.” Guillermo doesn’t hide his laughter this time.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” I can hear the chiding in his voice.

“Goodnight, Guillermo.” I hang up the phone and make my way over to my bed. I’m a lot more tired than I previously thought, as I plug in my phone within five minutes of my nightly doom scroll routine. 

The drive over to Guillermo’s house is nothing special. It’s cold, with some snow falling, but nothing I can’t handle. As I made my way over the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, I feel myself getting a little nervous. What if Guillermo’s roommates don’t like me? What if I end up biting off more than I can chew with this trip? I mean, I’m staying for an entire month. Certainly his roommates would get annoyed with me after staying with them for so long. 

Before I can panic myself any longer, I realize that I’m already at his doorstep. I raise my hand to knock on the door, but Guillermo is already there. 

“Y/N.” He says fondly. I smile and let my hand drop.

“Hi, Guillermo.” We smile and hug and get all the niceties out of the way. 

“Did you end up sleeping well?”

“After scrolling on Instagram for approximately five minutes, yeah.”

“I noticed you weren’t active super long. I was hoping that meant you were asleep and not on that one website I don’t know about.”

“Character.AI?” I say with a laugh. He laughs too. 

“Yeah, that one. Who’s your current fictional character of choice?”

“I’m embarrassed to say…” I fidget with my hands for a moment. 

“Now you have to tell me.” 

“I most certainly do not.”

As I walk in the house, I am met with an ornately-decorated foyer. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling looks quite beautiful, and I can’t help but stare in awe.

“Like it?” Guillermo looks at me taking in the scenery. 

“Holy crap, you must spend a fortune living here.” He laughs at this response. 

“If only you knew…” I give him an odd look but decide to drop it. 

“Well, it’s 9:30 in the morning… What would you like to do?” I ask him with a pleasant smile.

“Did you eat breakfast?” I shake my head.

“Let’s do that first, that way you’ll be prepared for any activities I have set up for you today.” Guillermo says with a smile.

“Ooh, what kind of activities are we talking?”

“I’ll show you around Staten Island, and that’ll give me time to debrief you on each of my roommates.”

“Yeah, where are they? You’d think they’d be up by now.” Guillermo suddenly starts to fidget with his hands.

“They’re kind of nocturnal.” I look bewildered at this statement. “They work at the railroad, so they have weird hours.”

“But I thought… I thought you also worked at the railroad.” Guillermo looks stunned and a little frightened by my statement. “I-I do…” Guillermo looks down at his hands.

“Guillermo. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re telling a lie. Did you get fired or something?” He perks up at my statement. 

“Fired, yup! I’m just trying to look for new work, so I’ve been keeping busy with the upkeep of this house. Please, don’t tell mom.” I nod in solidarity.

“Of course I won’t. Your secret’s safe with me.” Guillermo smiles and visibly relaxes. Suddenly, another figure walks in the room. He’s bald, wearing a vest, and carrying a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Who’s this?” I perk up as he makes his way out of the kitchen. Guillermo shoots him a warning look. For what reason, I can’t be too sure.

“That’s Colin Robinson.” Colin raises his cup as a friendly gesture.

“Hello… You must be Y/N. Guillermo told us you were coming. You’re in for a lot of fun.” I smile at Colin, as he seems friendly enough. 

“Yes! I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. I sure hope I don’t become a nuisance too quickly.” He smirks at my statement. 

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.” Guillermo shoots Colin another warning glare and for a moment, I could swear that Colin’s eyes brightened. Guillermo quickly takes my hand and leads me out of the house. 

“We’ll be back later, Colin.” I look at Guillermo, confused.

“What about breakfast?” He tugs at my arm again. 

“I’ll buy you breakfast, okay?” Guillermo closes and locks the door behind him, rolling his eyes at the thought of Colin. 

“He seemed nice.” I try to give him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, well ‘seeming’ isn’t everything. Colin Robinson is one of the most annoying creatures on this planet.” I laugh a little at this statement.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Breakfast?” Guillermo smiles back at me.

“Breakfast.”

The two of us take Guillermo’s car throughout Staten Island. A diner, a mall, a work building, everything that sees me throughout the day sees a smile on my face. The minutes turned to hours and I suddenly feel the sisterly urge to connect with Guillermo. 

“I’ve missed seeing you.” I break the silence with my voice, knowing the words would ring true. Guillermo nearly trips in the shoe store we’re currently walking through.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Is his simple reply.

“I just don’t think you’d be able to understand the depth of my statement. I really fucked things up.” Guillermo stops this time, looking at me as I speak, as if seeing me for the first time in his life.

I don’t come from a functional family. I grew up Catholic, fatherless, and forced to grow up fast. The weight I bear is not something easily shaken. My mother loved me dearly, but was always worried about Guillermo. He was 7 years older than me. He didn’t have many friends growing up on account of his rather odd hobbies. By association, when I finally reached the age he was when he first started getting bullied, I was left friendless and alone. 

Life as an emotionally-mature person in an emotionally-immature body often led to grief beyond the imaginable. I knew as I grew up that there were things I would never experience. Teenage romance, of course, was the least-established of my facilities. The days boys would hit on me were over… Nobody wanted to be friends with the girl whose brother believed in vampires. What if it runs in the family? 

“I really messed up. I should have been reaching out more. College fucked me up and I think I was still holding a–” The words spill forth before I can even think. I only recently got in touch with Guillermo a few months back.

“You were never supposed to be taking care of me. I was supposed to be doing that for you. I should have listened to your feelings; spoken about your hurt.” Guillermo’s words nearly tear at my heart. There are moments like these with one’s family members that help one realize just how connected blood really makes us. Seconds turn to minutes turn to us sitting on the floor and crying together while a Shoe Carnival employee checks in on us. 

The day passes a lot more calmly than earlier. I’m not sure exactly how many times I am warned about each of his roommates. 

“It really sounds like you don’t enjoy living with them.” Guillermo grimaces at my words as if struck.

“I do enjoy living with them, but they are a particular bunch. I know you can be, too. I just don’t want anyone butting heads with you; they’d do that even if I were to specifically ask.” My face softens at my brother’s words. 

“It’s only one month. It’ll be alright.”

When we make our way back to Guillermo’s house, the lights are on and I can see shadow figures moving around inside, albeit with some paper in the way.

“Guillermo?” I ask quietly.

“Yes?” He follows my gaze before going silent.

“What’s the paper for?”

“They’re very private people. Who would I be to judge?” Guillermo nearly chokes on his answer.

“Do you think it was a good idea to invite me to spend my winter break with you?” I feel Guillermo’s warm hands clasp around my freezing left one.

“I would do anything to ensure your comfortability here. They’ll behave, I promise.” He shuts the car off and makes his way out of the vehicle, motioning for me to do the same. We make our way to the porch and Guillermo takes the jingling keys out of his pocket. As he opens the door, I peek into the foyer. Nothing. Nobody. 

“Where did they go?” My voice asks softly. Guillermo gives me a smile that could be perceived as tentative. 

“Probably the fancy room. The curtain is shut.” I immediately shrink into myself at his words. 

“They know I’m here. I should leave–” I begin frantically.

“No, Y/N, please stay. We can go and introduce you.”

“Memo, please. I know you’ve lived with them longer than since we lost contact with one another. I don’t want them to think to ask you why we stopped speaking.” There’s a rustling heard behind the curtain as it’s pulled aside. Standing on the other side of the curtain is a black-haired woman with green highlights. She is dressed in Victorian garb and looks superb. 

“I take it you are Y/N.” She says in her Greecian lilt. I give her a bright smile; years of acting makes switching from emotions a thing to do with ease.

“Yes, I am. Hi! Are you Nadja?” She smiles at me and I immediately take notice of her sharp canine teeth. Odd.

“The one and only. Come, come, you must meet the others since Gizmo won’t be introducing you himself.” Guillermo rolls his eyes and makes his way to the fancy room with a huff. Inside the room are two men. One sits on the couch with a pipe in his mouth, occasionally blowing out puffs of smoke. He shoots me a suave smile and I recognize his sharpened canines as well. I mentally take note of that as I look at him.

“My darling, who did you bring for us to meet?” His voice is strained and clearly fake. He knows exactly who I am. “This is Y/N, Gizmo’s beautiful sister who he never speaks of.” My face flushes a deep red and I feel Guillermo preen behind me. There is a throat clearing heard from the corner of the room. Out steps a figure that dwarfs the others. He is tall and imposing and every bit of the name I know him to have: Nandor. 

“Be nice to Guillermo, Nadja. You do not want to scare off his sister.” He steps closer and I feel his steps, both graceful and lumbering, get closer and closer. He is wearing a furred cape with some other cultural garb that does not seem from the United States in the slightest. He makes his way over to me with his broad chest leading the rest of his body. I almost pass out as I look up at him, feeling the air in my throat constrict. 

“Nandor.” He says in his baritone, holding a hand out for me. “Nandor the Relentless.” My mouth opens and closes like a fish before I spit out my own name.

“Relentless? Why’s that.” He doesn’t need to answer, as I’m sure I’d believe any answer he gives me. 

“Y/N. You have a very lovely name, as well as a lovely curiosity about you.” He replies. 

“Thank you, that’s quite kind of you.�� I recognize now that I still haven’t taken his hand and I do, trying to shake it frantically before realizing how immovable he is. His steady hand lifts my hand to his lips as he keeps eye-contact with me. Normally, I’d explode from the attention, but I immediately clock his fangs.

“Is something wrong?” Guillermo’s voice chimes in and I realize I must have been staring. I blink a couple of times and come back to reality, noticing Nandor’s lips are still on my hand. Guillermo takes notice as well and swats at my arm. I pull it back in surprise and Nandor’s deep voice chuckles behind me. 

“Careful with this one. She’s fragile.” Nandor’s voice is both teasing and deadly serious, as if sending a warning to his roommates. Guillermo tugs my arm and leads me out of the room. I wave at Nandor and he gives me a smirk I can only describe as fond yet… hungry. After Guillermo drags me out of the room, I immediately round on him.

“You live with a bunch of cosplayers?” Guillermo shrinks from my anger. 

“They’re quite eccentric people when they’re not working at the railroad.”

“Speaking of, why the fuck are they here playing dress-up when they should be at work?”

“It’s a Saturday evening.” I deflate with Guillermo’s response. He’s right, of course.

“Okay. I’m off to bed.” Guillermo gives me an apologetic smile and as I turn away, I realize I have absolutely no idea where I’m going.

“Upstairs to the right.”

“Thank you.” I respond curtly before making my way up the stairs. When I make it to the top of the stairs and take the first right, I close the door behind me and take a deep breath. After my brain runs silent for a few moments, I decide to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. Of course, that meant exiting my bedroom, and I did not want to do that just yet. I wanted to take everything in. I look at my bed frame, an ornate metal one with a stained glass lamp on the nightstand next to it. Jesus, they took this whole cosplaying thing very seriously.

Guillermo’s POV

“Are you fucking kidding me? I asked you guys to do one thing: act normal! How hard is that? You were humans once, too!” Guillermo’s whisper shouting is quieted by Nandor, who places his hand on Guillermo’s shoulder.

“Laszlo, Nadja, leave us.” Nandor waves a dismissive hand at them.

“Fuck off.” Nadja’s voice is the first to pipe in. Laszlo is quick to recover as he stands and grabs his wife’s shoulders.

“Nadja, how about you and I go to our room and… discuss this new development in the house.” Both Guillermo and Nandor bristle at his statement for the very same reason. Laszlo drags Nadja out of the room before either of them could chide the married couple. When they finally leave, Nandor looks down at Guillermo.

“I would like to court her.” He says blatantly. Guillermo feels as if he had just been electrocuted. 

“Fuck no.” Guillermo is quick to recover from his immediate shock.

“Guillermo, she is a beautiful, unwed woman of childbearing age. Would you enjoy watching your sister turn into a spinster?” 

“Not any more than I’d enjoy watching her turn into your concubine.” Nandor looks as if he could snap his bodyguard’s neck. “You will not be courting my sister, and I’m so fucking serious. She’s a Van Helsing as well – she could kill you without a second thought.” Nandor perks up at this statement.

“I do enjoy a challenge.” Nandor’s voice is smug and steady. Guillermo storms out of the room, making his way to his room under the stairs. 

Y/N's POV

The house is cold and quiet. The fire in the living room does not create enough heat to reach where I am. Guillermo set up the room nicely, with a few extra blankets that will not go unused. I smile to myself as I make my way out of the room to head to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I smack into the chest of the person waiting outside my door. Nandor. He gives me a smirk, one of the fangs popping out of his lip.

“Hello, little Y/N.” I nearly shiver at his voice, but maintain my composure. 

“Hi Nandor. Sorry, I should have been paying more attention.” He gives me a friendly smile.

“You are quite alright. Do not feel bad. I was standing right outside your door, so I should be the one apologizing.” Nandor’s hands are clasped behind his back, making him look quite serious and almost otherworldly. 

“Yes. What were you doing outside my door anyway?” I look skeptical of him. 

“I wanted to apologize for causing any strife between your brother and you.” Now that was an answer I was not expecting. I swallow and try my best to not look phased. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Nandor chuckles at my words, a deep and smooth sound. 

“Guillermo clearly cares deeply for you. I wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression.” Nandor’s voice is genuine, without a hint of any of the confident bravado he carried earlier. 

“I know he cares for me. Sorry, I’m incredibly tired and have to get ready for bed.” I gently scoot him out of the way and make it to the bathroom without looking back. I lock the door behind me, standing before the mirror in front of me. It is a humbling sight: I look as though the exhaustion I’ve felt since I was 12 was surfacing all at once. Realizing my face was getting red with that discovery, I covered my face to cry. 

What I could not see beyond the door was a stunned Nandor, able to hear my soft cries. He did nothing, and yet here I am, angrier than ever. I stayed in the bathroom for a long while, knowing I could not go out and face him again.

Nandor’s POV

As he stares at the bathroom door, all he can feel is completely helpless about the situation. Had he said something wrong? What did he do? All he said was that your brother cared about you. Was that so wrong? Nandor awkwardly shuffles to his bedroom, closing the door to drown out your cries. He could hear them slow and eventually stop, listening to your feet shuffle back to the room across his. He wants to try again, to reach out and tap your door; to ask you what’s wrong. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He tries to ignore the feelings your emotions stirred within him as he listens to your breathing even out as you fall asleep.

Next Morning - Y/N’s POV

I wake up the next morning feeling completely out of it. As I opened my eyes, I felt all the emotions slam into me as they did last night. Fuck. Had I really gotten that emotional around Nandor? I knew that my emotions had gotten the better of me, and I wanted to apologize to him. He couldn’t have known that my and Guillermo’s relationship was a sore spot. Of course he wouldn’t have known that: Guillermo has always liked to keep his shame hidden. I sit up in my bed and groan, trying to catch my bearings. His door is right across from mine… Maybe I could sneak over and speak with him. 

Why I felt so drawn to Nandor, I couldn’t explain. Maybe it’s because he’s incredibly handsome, or maybe it’s due to the fact that he has no clue about me. A clean slate. That’s certainly what I felt I deserved at this moment.

I stand and make my way over to my door, opening it and running into someone for the second time in under 12 hours. I’m surprised to see that it’s Guillermo. 

“I’m so sorry,” are the first words that leave his mouth. I look at him skeptically. “Nandor told me you were upset last night. I should have known.” My face heats up in embarrassment. 

“It’s no big deal, really. I was just upset–”

“Stop. Please stop lying on my behalf. I’m your older brother, and I fucked up. I haven’t told you the whole truth.” That stops me dead in my tracks.

“What are you talking about?” Guillermo takes my hand and looks at me with an emotion on his face I can’t quite read. 

“I know I’ve been obsessed with vampires since I was a kid, and I hoped above hope that they were real. So real that I went looking to find them. I found a job application when I was 19 that seemed suspicious enough, so I showed up here: to this house,” I shake my head in confusion as Guillermo continues. “I was met by Nandor at the front door, who took me in for an interview. The job detailed the upkeep of the house and what being a servant–a familiar would be like.”

“A familiar? What the hell are you talking about?” Guillermo takes my hand and continues.

“I haven’t been working at the railroad for all of these years… I’ve been working for Nandor, Nadja, Laszlo, and Colin Robinson. I’m a familiar. They’re vampires.” My face turns blank for the first few seconds after he said the words I desperately did not want to hear. 

“Are you serious?” I can see Guillermo’s face fall. “After all these years, you still don’t care about how your actions affect other people. Do you know what it was like? Taking care of mom when all she wanted to do was see her son. Getting bullied at school for being your sister?” I wrench my hand from Guillermo’s grasp. “I get that us getting back on speaking terms is new and exciting because I’ve missed you, but don’t fuck with me about this,” Guillermo quickly grabs my hand again and drags me to Nandor’s room.

“I can prove it. Look,” Guillermo opens the door to Nandor’s room and there, laying in the middle of the room, is a large coffin made from some of the finest wood I’d ever seen. 

“What the actual hell,” my voice is quiet but certainly not calm. “What is this?”

“This is where Nandor sleeps. He sleeps during the day because he’s a vampire, not because he works night shifts. If he touches the sunlight, it hurts him. And if he steps fully into the sun, it will kill him. That’s why the windows are boarded up; that’s why this house looks so haunted: because it is. It’s haunted by the vampires who have lived in it for over 100 years,” I cover my face again and pull my hand from Guillermo’s grasp. 

“You’ve actually been galavanting around with vampires for over a decade?” I am dangerously calm. 

“I don’t know if ‘galavanting’ is the right word, but–”

“Well, what would you call it? Leaving your family behind to live with vampires. Some fantastical fucking dream you got to have,” I turn away from Nandor’s coffin, feeling scorned. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I can’t take back those years that I left you and mamá, but I want to make up for it.”

“You left us! For years, you left us! And what am I supposed to do? Be fine that you were gone for so long, only to be living your dream,” I sit against the wall, sliding to the floor. “While I was stuck taking care of mamá, who wanted nothing more than to have her son back. Do you know what that’s like?” Guillermo takes a step closer to me, slowly sitting next to me. 

“No. I don’t. But I want to. It’s not fair that I was gone, but I want to have you back in my life–”

“Did you tell mamá?” Guillermo looks ashamed and it’s all the answer I need. “Why would you ever trust me with this secret?” 

“Because I can’t try to satisfy you with lies. I’ve done that for long enough,” Guillermo looks at me with such sincerity it almost hurts. I sigh, feeling a headache coming on.

“Is there anything else I should know?” I look at him from between my fingers.

“...We are descendants of the Van Helsing family,” I immediately groan and put my head back in my hands. 

“What does that entail?” Guillermo takes a breath as he prepares to explain.

“It means that you’re probably unnaturally good at spotting vampires. I noticed you noticing their teeth last night,” I look up at Guillermo again.

“You did?” Guillermo laughs at my question. 

“Maybe it’s why I was so good and seeking vampires out in the first place,” a small smile appears on my face at his statement. 

“Guillermo De La Cruz: always alone, traversing between two worlds,” I give him a smile as I take my hands off my face.

“Not alone anymore,” he replies with an openness I had not yet seen from him. 

“Not anymore, no,” Guillermo wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him.

“Yes, yes, that’s nice. Now Guillermo, please flee from my room with your sister so I may slumber,” comes a voice from the coffin. I almost forgot we were in Nandor’s room. I laugh at his words. 

“Shit, sorry Nandor,” Guillermo says as he stands, pulling me to my feet. 

“Yeah, we’ll go,” I say as I start to leave the room. Guillermo closes the door behind him and looks at me a moment before we both start laughing. 

“Whoops,” Guillermo says first. 

“I guess I didn’t think vampires could be light sleepers,” I reply. 

“They most certainly can. Breakfast?” Guillermo asks. 

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes to do my morning routine. I need to brush the heart-to-heart out of my teeth,” Guillermo laughs and makes his way down the stairs. 

“See you in a few!”

After taking the time to do my morning routine, I make my way down the staircase to the kitchen. Before I can get there, I’m intercepted by Colin Robinson, who is, once again, holding a cup of coffee and wearing another vest. I shuffle nervously on my feet, now come to the realization that I am surrounded by vampires.

“What makes you so different?” I blurt before I can stop myself. Colin looks bewildered. “Good morning to you, too,” he mutters. 

“I’m sorry. Good morning. What I meant was, if you’re a vampire like everyone else, why can you be awake in the daytime?” Colin takes a sip of his coffee. 

“Your first assumption was incorrect: I am not like everyone else. I’m an energy vampire: a daywalker,” I nod at his explanation, though I’m still confused. “I feed off of people’s negative energy. Energy vampires are the most common of vampires, and I’m sure you’ve met some before meeting me.”

“Are you draining me right now?” I ask cautiously. Colin seems to find this amusing.

“No, no. I do it when you least expect it.” His words hang in the air for a moment before Guillermo peaks out of the kitchen. 

“Leave her alone, Colin,” Colin’s eyes glow blue at Guillermo’s words. So his eyes were glowing yesterday. 

“Go and enjoy breakfast. I sure have enjoyed mine,” Colin smirks before walking away. I make my way to the kitchen and prepare for the rest of the day. 

The rest of the day is rather mundane. Guillermo told me I should start getting used to taking naps in the daytime if I wanted to spend time with the vampires. When asking him if he was going to take a nap, he merely laughed. 

“The job of a vampire’s bodyguard is never-ending,” he responded.

“I thought you were a familiar,” I eye him.

“I was, until the vampires got attacked by other vampires,” Guillermo responds as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I guess, for him, it has been his normal.

“Should I be worried?”

“Not with that Van Helsing blood in you,” Guillermo nudged me. “Now get some rest.” So I did. The day was spent in a mostly-dreamless slumber as I tried to preserve my energy for the nighttime. Being a college student, changing my sleep schedule was certainly not hard. I woke up to my alarm and checked the time, seven o’clock. I rub my eyes and sit up, seeing the sun had already set below the sky. Being wintertime, it gets dark a lot earlier than I’d like. Maybe vampires enjoyed the winter more for that same reason. 

While pondering existential questions about vampirism, I peek out my door to make sure I won’t run into anyone else. As I look across the hallway, I see Nandor’s door is already open. I make my way over to his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, as if sneaking into somewhere I shouldn’t be.

I look inside his door and see his coffin opened. As I survey the rest of the room, I do not find him anywhere. 

“It is rude to try and sneak up on a vampire such as myself,” I jump in surprise and turn around. Nandor stares at me, a smirk playing at his lips. 

“I wasn’t–I didn’t–” He chuckles in that same deep baritone. 

“You’re not too sneaky for a Van Helsing,” I stand a little taller and cross my arms.

“Van Helsing or not, I’m still a De La Cruz,” Nandor raises an eyebrow at me. 

“I can see the resemblance between your brother and you. Come, would you like to sit?” Nandor gestures to a couple of chairs in his room. “The others are probably out hunting for the night,” I feel my blood go cold at his words. Nandor chuckles again before speaking, “Don’t worry – I ate yesterday in preparation for your arrival,” I feel his eyes on me as I sit in the chair. He moves to sit next to me. 

“Do you… kill people?”

“Yes,” his response is quick and almost cold.

“Do you enjoy it?” Nandor sighs.

“Only sometimes. Those are boring questions. I hear them too often. Let’s talk about something more interesting,” Nandor feigns a yawn which elicits a smile from me. 

“How old are you?” Nandor peers down at me from the corner of his eye, smiling. 

“I am over seven hundred years old. How old are you?” I suddenly feel much more shy and self-conscious. “Oh, come now, don’t tell me you don’t want to answer any of my questions.”

“I’m 23,” I respond quickly, as if challenging his words. 

“But a sprout amongst the trees,” Nandor’s words flow from him. “Y/N, I like your name.”

“Thank you… It’s a family name. Where does ‘Nandor’ originate?” Nandor smiles proudly. 

“From Hungary. It’s a version of ‘Ferdinand,’” Nandor says the name with a hint of distaste. 

“You’re Hungarian?” Nandor immediately shakes his head.

“No. I’m from Al Quolnidar. It used to be part of the Ottoman Empire, but now would be southern Iran.”

“I feel like I’m getting a history lesson,” I say with a laugh.

“Do you enjoy learning?” Nandor asks, blinking slowly at me. I pause for a moment, wondering how to respond.

“Yes, I think I do,” Nandor’s chest seems to puff up proudly, like a bird showing off his feathers. 

“Then I shall give you history lessons whenever you please.”

And he does. Days pass in the house and I always await Nandor’s rising in the night. I spend some of my time getting to know everyone in the house, but Nandor, of course, steals my attention most of the time. We spend long evenings and nights getting to know one another. Yet, it feels as though my life is not as exciting as his. No matter how many times I state this fear, Nandor is quick to respond.

“Just because I’m ancient doesn’t mean I’m more interesting.” We agree to disagree on this front. During the nights we are not speaking to one another, Guillermo catches us stealing glances at one another in the kitchen or the library. He, of course, knows we both have feelings for one another, but tries to inform me of how stupid and dangerous that is. I hush him up every time, telling him to let me have my fun, as there’s no possible way Nandor feels the same way about me. Guillermo shuts up every time, going back to whatever he’s doing. During one of our nightly talks, Nandor begins to open up a bit more about his love life.

“I had 37 husbands and wives,” I nearly spit out my drink at the number. 

“Shit, I realize this is probably insensitive, but how did you keep up with all of them?” Nandor laughs and waves off my question.

“I loved 35 of them, so it was relatively easy. The other two were political marriages: women meant to bear my children to carry on my name,” I try not to blush at the thought. 

“That must have been nice–having so many partners to spend time with,” I try to spin the situation.

“Oh no, I spent most of my time with my concubines when I was on the battlefield,” I, once again, try not to choke on my drink. 

“Did you ever think it was enough?” The words fall from my lips before I can reign them in. Nandor looks at me, surprised by my question.

“No… I suppose I didn’t,” I frown at his response.

“Do you ever think about settling down?” The dam has opened. 

“I’m a vampire. All I ever think about is settling down for eternity. I lived enough lives by being a conqueror as a human,” Nandor looks at his glass, half-empty with AB+ blood.

“Seven hundred years is a long time to be alive. I feel like I’ve lived through enough as a 23-year-old,” Nandor gives me a look.

“You’re still young,” he says as a matter-of-fact statement. “Let the world open up to you.”

“I think I have had enough of the world opening up to me,” I begin to swirl the wine in my glass. 

“What do you mean?” Nandor’s curiosity is piqued.

“Helping out a single mom since you were 12 is not exactly a job for sheltered individuals,” I say with a sigh. “My mom needed someone to help out around the house after Guillermo left. I was that someone. It wasn’t all that bad, but it was hard.”

Nandor is suddenly hit with the crushing realization that he inadvertently did this to you. He took away Guillermo, he made it nearly impossible for Guillermo to reach out and speak to his family. Nandor takes a sip from his glass. If his face could blush, it would certainly be burning from his shame right now. 

“I’m sorry,” is his only reply. I give him a smile, one that he recognizes as a friendly but tired look.

“Don’t be. It shaped me into who I am. I like me,” I say simply.

“I hope you don’t mind if I were to ask you about your father?” Nandor immediately wishes he could take back his words once he watches my face fall. 

“I don’t remember much. He was a piece of crap who bullied our mother for a living. When he finally decided to get lost, I couldn’t help but feel abandoned. My mom loved me as best as she could, but that doesn’t mean it was what I needed,” I say before taking another sip of my wine. “Blood is thick, though. I am forever appreciative that I got this opportunity to reunite with Guillermo, even if that means having my worldview shattered,” I say with a laugh. 

“How do you do it?” Nandor asks as he studies my face.

“How do I do what?”

“How do you speak about such things with a smile on your face? You should be crying.”

“I weep when I’m alone,” I tell him as I look into my glass again. “It’s not very becoming of me to cry in front of people I don’t know that well, now is it?” Nandor also looks into his glass before looking back up at me.

“I would like to know you,” Nandor says those words simply, as if it wasn’t a declaration.

“I don’t think you would. I’m broken–” I start.

“I don’t know why you’ve convinced yourself you’re not worth knowing. You’re allowed to be angry with me, you know? I took your brother away for years, causing you to have to raise yourself. I would understand completely if you chose to hate me,” Nandor’s words spill forth like a waterfall. 

“I don’t hate you,” my face is burning.

“Why?” Nandor’s question is exasperated. 

“I’m not sure, but I don’t. You’ve given me every chance in the world to speak freely, but I don’t feel like hating you. It does not change the past, nor does it heal the future. I think just being in your presence now is a comfort. One I should not take for granted,” Nandor is stunned into silence. 

“Can I kiss you?” I am stunned by this question. I stand abruptly before getting ready to leave. 

“I should get going,” I close the door before he has the chance to respond.

Nandor’s POV

By the end of the night, Nandor’s room looks as if a tornado blew through it. Once he heard you leave the house, he began to destroy everything within it. He threw his glass of blood at the wall, watching it shatter with a cruel satisfaction. Of course you would not reciprocate. You’re too full of life, too wonderful, too good for him. Nandor roars in anger at each of these thoughts, destroying some of the furniture in his room. All that remains untouched are his coffin and the paintings of himself on the wall: all a cruel reminder of the warlord he was. The violent, cruel, evil dictator who took lives without care. Of course you felt the need to run away for the night. He made you uncomfortable, and he couldn’t blame you for feeling that way.

At some point in the night, there is a knock at his door. Nandor rounds on Guillermo, hissing as he stares at his bodyguard. 

“Leave me,” Nandor’s words are cold and angry. But Guillermo does not leave.

“What happened?” His question brings forth a thousand more thoughts in Nandor’s head, who clutches it as if it is going to explode.

“She left. I scared her away,” Nandor’s voice cracks from emotion, and he curses himself for it, finding a book on his nightstand and ripping it apart.

“What? How?” Nandor storms over to Guillermo, towering above him intimidatingly. 

“Leave. Me.”

“This is my sister we’re talking about. My sister, who is alone in the streets of Staten Island because of you. Now, tell me what happened,” Guillermo’s temper almost matches Nandor’s. Nandor lets out a frustrated huff before explaining what happened. 

“She was never angry with me. Never angry at me, the monster who kept her brother away from her for 14 years. She held no bitterness towards me about it,” Nandor turns around to hide his shame. “None, until of course, when I ruined it by asking to kiss her,” Guillermo falls silent with these words. 

“We have to go find her. She couldn’t have gotten far–” Guillermo begins, trying to ignore the feelings stirring within him.

“We don’t have to do anything. You will go and find her. I have done enough for tonight,” Nandor hisses, throwing a glare at Guillermo over his shoulder. There’s a pause between them before Guillermo glares back at Nandor. 

“Fine. Next time, stay away from my sister,” the door slams behind him and Nandor jumps, quickly returning to destroying his room. 

Guillermo’s POV

She couldn’t have gotten far. That’s the only thing he can think as he goes out to look for you. You couldn’t have gone too far. Guillermo, met with constant lefts and rights, decides to follow a path he had taken you on during one of your many daily adventures through Staten Island. Left, left, right, straight for a few miles… You couldn’t have gone far. He tries to think of all the possible places you could have gone. 

You took your car, of course. You left in your car to do whatever you wanted, and he had no chance to stop it. Suddenly, he remembers the pang of disappointment he felt in his stomach when you said you enjoyed going to bars. He took you to a bar a couple days ago. It had food, greasy food, but it also had drinks. That’s probably where you went. He tries to stuff down the thought of you drunk driving. You wouldn’t. 

Guillermo feels an immense sense of relief when he sees your car outside the bar. He opens the doors, a sense of peace washing over him. That is, until he realizes you aren’t there. Guillermo’s panic rises within him again as he looks around. He asks the bartender if he saw you – he hadn’t. You were sending him on a wild goose chase. Guillermo clutches his head in frustration, trying to think of where else you could be. That is, of course, until he hears you scream.

Y/N’s POV

I wanted to go to the bar for the shitty food. I knew it would make me feel much better after running away from Nandor. I had been mentally kicking myself the entire night over Nandor’s question. Why did I leave? I cover my face as I sit at the front sidewalk of the bar.

Commitment issues. It was always commitment issues. I felt so embarrassed for leaving Nandor hanging, but I was terrified when he asked to kiss me. I wanted to, of course, but I had never… I mean, what would come next? Marriage? Sex? The last thought sends a shiver through me. He’s a vampire. I’m just a blip in his long existence: an impermanent thing. I cover my face and groan to get myself free of those thoughts. Standing up to go into the bar, I reach the front door before I feel my arm grabbed by some stranger, dragging me away with a hand over my mouth.

I’m dragged into an alley, a knife pressed against my back. Yeah, this would happen to me.

“Don’t scream,” the voice is scarily calm. “I’m just robbing you. This will go as easily as you want it to,” he speaks the words as if they’re molasses stuck in his teeth. As he removes his hand from my mouth, I take a deep breath. 

“I don’t have a lot of money on me,” I responded brokenly. 

“Well, it seems we have a problem, don’t we?”

“Please. Let me go. I’ll give you the keys to my car,” I am pleading now.

“You think I want some busted car from a college student?” The knife begins to dig into my skin. I gasp and the man shushes me before whispering in my ear.

“I told you this would go as easily as you wanted it to. It seems you don’t care too much,” I shake my head and try to reason with him. 

“Please, I won’t tell anyone about this. I’ll go quietly. I’ll give you everything I have, it’s just not much,” the man removes the knife from my back and brings it to my cheek. He slowly drags it down the side of my face, certainly drawing blood. I cry out, beginning to scream for help. After a brief moment, I feel the weight lifted from behind me as the man is dragged off of me. 

“Don’t touch her,” I hear a familiar voice hiss behind me. I scoot away from Nandor and the man he is now holding off the ground. His eyes are a deep red; red as blood. With that thought, I raise a hand to my cheek, feeling the warm liquid running down my face. I catch Nandor watching me touch the blood on my cheek. He hisses at the man, and it’s a deep and menacing sound. “Look away,” his voice is deep and commanding. 

I tuck my head and cover my face. The moment I do, I hear a disgusting squelching sound, followed by a gasp from the man. I’m sure he would have screamed if he could, but I would guess Nandor went for the throat.

“Y/N, we have to go,” I uncover my face to find Guillermo staring at me, frantically trying to pull me to my feet. In a split-second decision, I turn to look at Nandor, who is crouched on the ground like a predator, face deep into the man’s skin. His eyes are on mine the moment I look upon him, and I can feel his relief as he looks at me. Guillermo drags me out of the alley, holding my hand the entire way. 

“Stop looking!” Guillermo commands as he pulls me out of Nandor’s view.

“He’s not going to hurt me–” 

“You’re bleeding,” Guillermo interrupts me. “I don’t want to tempt an apex predator, thank you very much.” He opens the passenger door and helps me sit down before going to the driver’s side. Guillermo speeds off in his car, headed back in the direction of the house. When I looked behind the car, all I could see was Nandor standing in the middle of the road, blood covering his face.

We got back home after driving for a few minutes in silence. When Guillermo parks the car, he looks over at me.

“Are you okay?” I cover my face and look away.

“Yes,” I responded curtly.

“No you’re not,” Guillermo puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me, rubbing it softly. “It’s okay to not feel okay after something like that. I remember the first time I saw a human die at the hands of vampires. It’s scary. You shouldn’t have had to see that,” he speaks so gently.

“I’m okay, really. I mean, yes it was scary… I guess I’m just glad Nandor got there in time.” Guillermo nods.

“Me too. You can thank him when he’s not all bloodlusted,” Guillermo almost reads my mind. 

“I’ll just clean up and it’ll be alright–” I begin.

“No. He’s already got the scent of your blood. He’s going to be touchy for the rest of the night. We need to get you patched up and to bed,” Guillermo cuts me off. “That is a talk that can happen another day.” I finally relent, nodding in agreement.

“Okay… Can I go get cleaned up now?” Guillermo turns the car off and walks beside me the entire way, keeping an eye out for Nandor. “I’ll be fine, you know?” He scoffs at my words.

“You’re as stubborn as him – I’ll give you that,” he mutters under his breath. When we make it in the house, Guillermo helps clean me up. Luckily, the other vampires were nowhere to be seen, though Guillermo was sure they could smell my blood. “I’m going to put a cross on your door tonight. Give you a couple stakes…” 

“Would that really be necessary?” Guillermo shoots me a look. 

“I’m not taking any risks. He’s dangerous and I will not have my sister getting bitten by a vampire,” he continued to dab a washcloth on the wound on my cheek. 

“It’s going to be a huge, ugly scar, isn’t it?” There’s a hint of despair in my voice. Guillermo sighs.

“I don’t know… Probably… But not ugly! Let’s… not worry about that right now,” he tries to filter his words, but it’s really no use. He begins to use alcohol prep pads on my skin, causing me to hiss through my teeth. 

“Ow, that really hurts,” Guillermo’s face turns sympathetic.

“You’re very strong. I don’t think it needs stitches: it wasn’t that deep. Can I put gauze on your cheek?” I nod.

“Here we go. It’ll be okay. You will be staying in your room tonight,” Guillermo’s words leave no room for argument. I groan at him, rolling my eyes.

“Fine,” Guillermo nods as he finishes disinfecting my face and putting gauze over it. 

“You’ll bounce back quickly. Something tells me you always do,” he gives me a wink and helps me stand before pushing me into my room. Guillermo places a stake on my bedside table, then goes to hang a cross on the front of the door. 

“Is all of this really necessary?” My question is exasperated. Guillermo shoots me a glare. 

“Is keeping you safe from a deadly vampire necessary? Oh geez, let’s think about that,” I roll my eyes again at his words. 

“Okay, thank you. Good night, Guillermo,” I sigh and place the hand over my gauze. Guillermo’s eyes soften and he makes his way to sit on my bed next to me. 

“You’ll be okay, I promise. I just want to be careful, you know?” I nod along to Guillermo’s words. 

“Thanks. I know you’re just looking out for me. I appreciate it,” I say to him sincerely. 

“Just rest. The morning will be here before you know it,” he leans over and gives me a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too… Good night,” I say to him. Guillermo smiles and makes his way to my door, closing it behind him. 

I wish I could say that I tried falling asleep, but I did not. I stayed awake for what felt like hours, tossing and turning in my bed. All I could think about was Nandor standing in the middle of the road, watching me drive away with Guillermo. There’s a level of guilt that falls on my shoulders as I think about that look he gave me. I hold my cheek, beginning to cry softly at the thought of my face being marred for the rest of my life. 

After crying for a long enough time to feel dehydrated afterwards, I hear the loud flapping of wings and a squeak outside my door. There’s a poof sound, followed shortly by a hissing as Nandor approaches my door. 

“Fucking guy,” Nandor hissed at the cross on my door. I stand, tiptoeing over to the door before cracking it open. Before me was Nandor, cleaned up and in the same outfit I saw him in earlier. His face immediately softened once he saw me. “Y/N… Are you okay?” He reaches a hand out and I flinch, a little afraid from what I saw earlier. 

“I’m alright, I promise. You… shouldn’t be here,” Nandor scoffs at my words.

“What did your brother tell you?” He spits the words. 

“He said you would be… touchy. I don’t want to irritate you,” I whisper, trying to make sure Guillermo wouldn’t hear us. Nandor’s face widens into a smirk.

“Oh no, my dear, wrong touchy,” I blush in surprise and he takes this as an opportunity to push past me, closing the door swiftly behind him as he carries me towards my bed. 

“Nandor! Please,” I protest as he lays me down on my bed, quickly following to curl up behind me.

“Please what, darling? Use your words,” he nuzzles against my face, nose rubbing against the gauze on my cheek. 

“I don’t– I can’t…” The words are lost on my lips and Nandor shushes me. 

“I know, darling. I can smell it on you,” he nuzzles against my cheek again, pressing a kiss to the gauze on my face. “A virgin, are we? I smelled it in your blood,” Nandor whispers as he puts an arm around me. I blush deeply in surprise that he was able to guess so easily. 

“I grew up very Catholic,” are the only words that leave my mouth. Nandor chuckles darkly.

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter why, it matters that you are,” he kisses my cheek again. I shake my head again, trying in futility to deny.

“I ran away after you asked to kiss me,” Nandor stops suddenly, his grip loosening. 

“I will leave you if you wish it,” he continues to pull away. 

“No! I mean… you don’t have to,” I try to cover the desperation in my voice. Nandor chuckles again and leans in against me.

“You smell amazing,” Nandor continues to nuzzle against my cheek. 

“I shouldn’t have run away. I’m sorry,” I feel the remorse surge within me.

“Don’t be. I got a free meal of it,” he teases gently before nosing against the pulse point on my neck. 

“But I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should have told you that I’m afraid to get close to people, that it was never your fault–” Nandor nips my neck gently, causing the words to die in my throat.

“Hush, Y/N. Stop apologizing. I don’t want you wasting your breath on something I already understand,” he leans down and kisses my head. I flip to my other side, facing Nandor and getting a good look at him for the first time since the attack. His eyes are still a faint red, pupils blown wide with some primal feeling deep within him. I reach a hand up and push a strand of his hair behind his ear. I hear a low groan rise from his throat.

“What does it feel like?” I ask suddenly. Nandor pulls away to look at me.

“What does what feel like?”

“Drinking blood. Is it… I don’t know… enjoyable?” Nandor smirks as he looks at me. 

“I wouldn’t be able to explain it. Drinking blood is like nothing I ever did when I was a human. It feels so powerful, like something out of a movie,” Nandor gets lost in thought, staring out of the paper-covered window.

“What does it feel like for a human?” Nandor looks at me a moment, before answering.

“When I was turned, it was not a pleasant experience. I’m assuming that was due to the violence of the one turning me, but I’ve heard some humans find it to be a pleasant experience. Why?” Nandor asks the question he already knows the answer to.

“I… would you drink from me?” I look up at him shyly. Nandor’s breath hitches as he looks at me. 

“You would want that?” I nod, the words dying in my chest.

“Would you remember me?” Nandor looks perplexed by the question.

“I would know you through the rain and the snow, through every storm that appears in the night. Just because your blood calls to me doesn’t mean I will answer in violence,” Nandor leans down and presses a kiss to my undamaged cheek. 

“You make it sound so easy,” I whisper to him.

“For some, it really is.”

“Is it for you?” Nandor hesitates.

“No, but I will not forget you,” I lean forward and hug Nandor against me. 

“You saved my life once. I owe you, at the very least,” Nandor leans forward and captures my lips in a kiss. It is a deep and passionate kiss that conveys the days of yearning between us. I could imagine myself getting lost in that kind of yearning forever. The kind of yearning that leaves one seeking answers from the beginning of the first interaction. 

Nandor’s tongue presses against my lips, licking off any balm I put on there a few hours before. I open my mouth to him, breath getting stolen as he takes a greedy gulp of my air. 

“The second you view this as a transactionary agreement,” he starts as he pulls away from my lips, “you’ll forget how much I want to get to know you. I don’t want you to forget that,” he says as he presses a kiss to my nose. He pushes my head to the side gently, sniffing my pulse point and taking a moment to just sit there. 

“You’re so sweet,” I whisper to him.

“Sweet. That’s not a word that’s been used to address me before,” He laughs and presses a kiss to my neck. I giggle softly as he continues to press kisses to my neck. “I like those noises. You sound happy. I only want to hear you happy,” Nandor mutters against my neck.

“I hope that not always being happy is not a let-down,” Nandor chuckles again, nipping my neck softly. 

“Don’t speak as if you’re some consolation prize. I don’t care. I like you,” he mumbles against my skin. 

“Are you going to bite me now?” I ask, trying to deflect some of the attention he was putting towards me. Nandor nuzzles against my neck again, dragging his teeth along my neck. 

“The second you say it back, I will. I like you,” Nandor says, pulling away to look me in my eyes. I blush deeply, trying to maintain eye-contact with him.

“I like you, too,” I say as Nandor leans down and captures my lips in another kiss.

“That’s more like it,” he says, bending down and pressing a kiss to my jaw. He leans down and kisses against my neck, growling against my skin. “So warm, so soft, so sweet,” he sinks his fangs into my skin. It feels like a short needle prick and I jump a little in surprise. As I jump, Nandor’s hold on me tightens to keep me in place. I whimper a little as I feel him begin to take pulls of my blood. 

“That… feels really nice,” I mutter to myself, feeling as if I had entered a trance. Nandor groans as he continues to drink deeply from my neck. The sounds are lewd and wanton as my body curls into him. It feels as though a thousand hands are holding me against him, making me feel safe and protected in his arms.

He takes a couple more pulls of my blood before pulling away, licking the puncture wounds on my neck. He kisses the marks gently, groaning from deep in the back of his throat. 

“You taste divine,” he breathes the words as if they are keeping him alive. 

“That felt really nice,” I mutter, still in a daze. Nandor chuckles and holds my face in his hand.

“I’m sure it did. I made sure to be gentle with you,” he says as he kisses the spot where he bit again. There are moments like these that help one realize just how connected blood really makes us. It feels as if we are bonded in some way, and I can tell Nandor is feeling it, too. “I’m sure you can feel how intense things are right now. Just take a deep breath, okay?” He holds eye-contact with me and takes a deep breath, trying to get me to follow suit. When I do, he smiles and kisses my cheek. “Good girl,” he whispers. My eyebrows knit together with his nickname.

“Oh, you liked that, did you, darling?” He kisses my lips quickly before saying, “my good girl,” once again.

4am - Nandor’s POV

Nandor woke up with you in his arms, feeling the weight and security you offered him. However, after a moment of peace, he feels something pressed against his back. 

“Get up,” Guillermo’s voice is a deep warning. 

“Guillermo–” Nandor tries to speak.

“Get up. I will not ask again,” he hisses again, holding the stake against Nandor’s back. Nandor looks over as you begin to stir. 

“You wouldn’t want to wake her up, would you?” Nandor’s voice is a deep purr. 

“Did you bite her?” Guillermo already knows the answer.

“Only because she asked,” Nandor nearly taunts Guillermo, who grabs Nandor and pulls him out of the bed. 

“I told you to leave my sister alone,” Guillermo growls at Nandor, who holds his hands up in defense. 

“She invited me in,” Guillermo frowns at Nandor’s words. When you stir, they both look over in surprise.

“Did anyone think about asking me what I wanted?” You stare at the two of them, glaring at Guillermo. “Yes, I invited him in. Yes, I realize that may sound dumb to you. No, I do not regret it,” Guillermo bristles at your words.

“I’m just making sure you’re safe,” his voice is a strangled mix of frustrated and calm. 

“Unhand Nandor, dude,” you say to your brother, who begrudgingly lets him go. Guillermo storms out of the room, causing you to want to go after him. 

“Don’t. He needs a minute alone,” Nandor starts.

“You don’t know what he needs. I need to apologize to him.” You get up and make your way out of the room, heading down the stairs to find Guillermo fuming in the kitchen. 

Guillermo’s POV

“I’m sorry,” are all the words you can muster. He hears you from behind him and he turns around, glaring.

“I told you to leave it alone for the night, and what did you do? Not that. Certainly not what your brother asks you to do,” you frown.

“It’s fine, he was fine! Nothing happened,” at your words, Guillermo’s eyes flicker to the puncture wounds on your neck. She flushes in embarrassment and quickly covers up the marks. “Nothing beyond that.”

“I don’t care what happened between the two of you, I want Nandor to be good to my sister. I don’t want him to lose interest the second you lose your novelty to him.”

“I don’t think I’m some novelty to him. I think he likes me–” Guillermo holds a hand up to quiet his sister. 

“I need to speak with Nandor,” he says with a biting edge to his tone. 

“Not with that stake, you don’t,” Y/N says with a glare thrown his way. Guillermo huffs, standing up from the table and walking out of the kitchen without his stake. As he stomps his way up the stairs, he sees Nandor peer from out of his room. 

“You, me, talk. Now,” Nandor opens the door for him, allowing him entry. 

“Guillermo!” Nandor says with a friendly lilt in his voice, trying to appeal to Guillermo’s normally good-natured attitude. “What is cracking, friend? How has your day been going?” Guillermo looks at Nandor’s room, still in complete disarray from the night before. He turns at Nandor and looks up at him. 

“When you said you wanted to court my sister, I could have killed you. When I saw you holding my sister this morning, I almost killed you,” Nandor shrinks from Guillermo’s words. But, he sighs. “Be good to her. That’s not a lot to ask for, is it?” Nandor immediately shakes his head. 

“I will be the best to her. Only the best she deserves,” Guillermo nods, thinking over Nandor’s words. He huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If you so much as break her heart, I’ll put a stake through yours,” Guillermo threatens. Nandor crosses his fingers over his heart.

“Scout’s honor,” he bares his teeth in a little smile at his bodyguard. Nandor nearly jumps for joy as he makes his way out of the room to find you. When he sees you at the bottom of the stairs, Nandor grabs you around your waist and spins you around, kissing your bandaged cheek again. 

Y/N's POV

“Well, that went well…” I say with a laugh as Nandor brings me closer to kiss my cheek. 

“It did. Better than I could have ever imagined, my morning star,” I blush at his nickname, which elicits a satisfied noise from Nandor. “You like my little nicknames?” Nandor leans in and kisses my lips once again with a surprising amount of gentle energy. He dips me once my feet touch the floor, breaking apart only to look at me with the same reverence as yesterday. 

“Yes, I could get used to the nicknames,” Nandor smiles brightly, his fangs bared. 

“Anything for you, little one,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss me again.

[thewertsearch]

GC: 1T F1NDS W4YS TO 4NN1H1L4T3 TH3 P4THS WH1CH DO NOT CONTR1BUT3 CONSTRUCT1V3LY TO 1TS OWN PROP4G4T1ON

I think this is partially true, but it can't be entirely true.

If all timelines that don't propagate reality were annihilated, then failed sessions would be completely impossible. The kids' unwinnable session would have started out as a doomed timeline.

Well... I suppose reality could occasionally permit a failed session, if that session's failure contributed to universal propagation in some other way. I've talked before about how this might actually be what's happening - how Sburb might be maneuvering these kids into a position where they can stop Lord English from destroying the universes it's trying to create.

Still, situations like this would presumably be very rare. The vast majority of sessions would contribute to propagation by directly creating a universe, so if Terezi's hypothesis was true, the vast majority of sessions should be successful.

Karkat certainly seems to think that plenty of sessions end in failure - but where's he getting his information? This might just be another case of his worldview bleeding into his understanding of the game.

For now, the average win rate of a Sburb session remains a mystery. Hopefully it won't remain one forever.

GC: 4ND 1T 1S 3QU4LLY M3RC1L3SS TO THOS3 WHO 1NH4B1T TH3M, 4ND 1N P4RT1CUL4R, THOS3 WHO C4US3 TH3M

And this is even more dubious.

Like, Sburb gave them these powers. Dave has his time machines because of Sburb. Why is he getting punished for using them as intended? If the game really abhors doomed timelines, why is it giving portable timeline-doomers to its players?

I suppose it's possible that Paradox Space is actually being managed by some force external to Sburb, so it's not actually Sburb that hates doomed timelines, but reality itself. But that just raises further questions, such as: why do universes spawn from a game that breaks the laws of the universe?

On the other hand, I'm pretty sure Terezi's just guessing, here...

GC: 1T 4PP34RS TO H4V3 4 S3NS3 OF JUST1C3, DONT YOU TH1NK?

...and they've very Terezi-flavored guesses, too.

She's been primed her whole life to think about everything in terms of justice and punishment, so she's biased towards doing so, even when it doesn't quite fit.

TG: i dunno none of this is making for a very persuasive argument that i should kill doomed me GC: BUT H3 1S GO1NG TO D13 4NYW4Y! GC: WHY NOT JUST B3 TH3 ON3 TO PUT H1M DOWN? GC: 4T TH3 V3RY L34ST, YOU COULD M4K3 SUR3 1T 1S 4 PL34S4NT D3M1S3 1NST34D OF SOM3TH1NG N4ST13R >:]

Oh, she's having fun with this, isn't she?

Like Dave said, Terezi's already seen the future, so she knows what he's going to choose. To her, his final choice doesn't really matter - the fun lies in watching him squirm.

TG: this shit youre doing now TG: this is the morbid shit i was talking about TG: its not anywhere near as endearing as you probably think […] TG: this whole thing was a ruse TG: and not even the funny kind that qualify as distactions TG: i think you got my whole timeline there in front of you and you know damn well i have no intention of killing this guy ever

Dave likes Terezi, but he's clearly getting sick of being jerked around here. He wants to know if there's a point to this - and I think he's going to be disappointed with the answer.

[snekwritesstuff]

Take A Break (pt. 2 of ?)

Part 1 Here! Pairing: Doomed Polycule? I think? Word Count: 948 Warnings: Bill is once again a little shit, don't assume this is healthy yet. Otherwise, none!

hi hello we're back with this again. i have some ideas for this still but im not sure how to implement them all. anywho...enjoy!

Fiddleford was ready to wake up. As he clung to the wall behind him, he swallowed thickly at the sight of Bill in the flesh. Or at least in the…whatever he was made of. The demon's eye pierced his own, sending a bolt of anxiety through the engineer.

“Specs! Good to finally meet you, eh?” Bill said, holding out his hand and closing his eye in a smile.

Fidds could only nod, sliding down the cabin wall. 

“I hear you wanna talk! Name's Bill, though you seem to already know that.” When Fidds didn't shake his hand, he brought it back with a shrug. “And you're Fiddlesticks! Gotta say, for a hick, you seem to have a pretty nice mindscape in here. But maybe that's because you've used the old memory gun a few too many times.”

“You know about the gun?” Fidds asked, voice cracking.

“Of course I know about the gun!” Bill laughed, suddenly approaching Fidds’ face. “And I know about your wife, and about your desperation for my Fordsy.”

“My–”

“Oh, don't play dumb with me, Specs, you gave him googly eyes before you left the basement. And it's almost like, and I'm spitballing here, I'm in your head.”

Fidds’ face flushed red as he turned away. “This isn’t fair, Bill. I’m tryin’ to have a civil conversation.”

Bill blinked, taken aback for a moment. “Civil? Where Fordsy is concerned? Never.”

“So you two are…Not important. Not…yeah.” Fidds sighed, bringing a hand to his face. “Look, you’re a little intimidatin’, but if you’re makin’ him happy, then I can’t complain. Just try to be mindful of ‘im. And, well, I think you and I should at least try to play nice since we both clearly care for ‘im.”

“Hm, asking something of me without giving me something in return…Not my style, Specs.” The demon tapped a finger to where his mouth would have been if he had one. Did…he have one? “Though, I do love a good deal. How ‘bout we make one?”

Fidds shook his head vigorously. “Mama raised a godly boy, and while that may be different now, I know better than to meddle in devilish voodoo.” He shuddered with a grimace. “This dream's plenty proof for me that you exist.”

Bill twirled his cane, a hand behind his head. “Fordsy likes you too, y'know.”

“Not my business. He's got his love life, I've got mine. No need to–What?” 

With a laugh the demon swam in front of the engineer, his chin resting on folded hands and legs kicking behind him. “I couldn't give less of a damn if you like him, Fiddlesticks. I care because he always gets so prickly when his little hillbilly's involved. You're a smart one, but nothing like my Sixer.” His large eye inched ever closer towards Fidds. “Which makes me curious. Why does the greatest mind across every dimension care about someone as mediocre as you, when he has a god that cares about him and can boost his potential?” 

“I couldn’t tell you.” The sting of those words hurt more than Fidds wanted to admit. “But I know a gamble when I see one, and I'm starin’ one head on. What is he gettin’ out of this?” 

“Power beyond any mortal mind's comprehension, an expanding kingdom to rule and study as he sees fit, a life with his Muse…” The demon tapped his fingers in a counting motion. “What else could my Fordsy want? Certainly nothing you could provide.”

“Ford's not interested in power,” Fidds spat. 

“Oh-ho, boy are you wrong!” Bill laughed. “All humans want power!”

“I don't–”

“Hold on, hold on, get your suspenders out of that knot! Power manifests in different ways, Fiddlesticks.” The demon jabbed a finger towards the man's glasses. “But we're getting off topic…Here's the deal. I can't physically enter your realm unless that portal's finished.”

“Good,” the engineer growled. “I don't want you anywhere near this place.”

“I mean no harm, of course, and even if I did, Ford's willing to help me. My offer to you is if you let me drive this bad boy around every once in a while, I can make sure we both get a piece of our favorite scientist.”

Fidds’ face twisted in disgust, shaking his head again. “Ford would never. And you’ve got another thing comin’ if you think I’d let you use me to keep twistin’ his brain every which way.”

Bill shrugged. “Your loss, Fiddlesticks, but the offer’s always on the table! Anywho, time for me to go! Nothing matters, buy gold, bye–”

“Now hold your horses!” At Bill’s slow blink, Fidds continued. “That’s all? You come into my head, ruin my night, and-and you’re just gonna leave? I haven’t gotten a single word in! What do you really want with Ford?”

“I just told you, Specs, keep up!”

Fidds finally stood, shoving a finger in the demon’s face. “I ain’t stupid, Billy, you know exactly what I’m askin’ you!”

“And I ain’t tellin’ you!” Bill’s accent was a mockery, fueling Fidds’ bubbling rage. 

“Fine then! But if you hurt him, there ain’t nothin’ in any dimension that can stop me from tearing those stupid little limbs off your stupid yellow body and feeding them to you one by one.”

“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time, Fiddlesticks!” Bill patted Fidds’ head condescendingly. “You’re fun! I’ll be here more often, I think. Bye!”

As the demon disappeared, Fidds woke up with a start. He slammed a fist against his mattress and stood. Pacing the floor, he muttered to himself before sitting at his desk and drawing up blueprints for an inter-dimensional death ray that aimed only at yellow triangles.

[tobiasdrake]

Dragon Ball Daima, episode 5. Time to meet the new girl for realsies.

For like forty years.

Goku's leaving out information that's extremely relevant to the new girl's question. The reason he has the skills of a middle-aged martial arts master is because that is literally what he is.

We're still going to the castle? I thought we turned around to go chase the Dragon Ball instead. Maybe I misunderstood.

Gloom n' Doom was trying to leave her behind but we all know who the real star is, and he accepts bribes in exchange for friendship.

He also accepts friendship without bribes. He's just nice. But he's not gonna turn down some onigiri if you're offering.

We have a name! Between Glorio and Panzy, it seems the denizens of Daimakai have flowers for their name pun theme.

(Goku, you named your son after rice. You have no room to talk.)

Not sure if the exchange over whose name is weirder is meant to be a parallel to Goku's first meeting with Bulma. Very rarely do the punny names get called out as funny in-universe.

They're going the "Everyone has their own unique superpower" route for the Majin, I see. And Panzy's is....

Telekinesis.

We've seen telekinesis a few times. Chiaotzu and Guldo are the most prolific telekinetic characters. But they're also...

Like. They both kinda fall into the category of "Characters who got exactly one fight and then fucked off or died." We've never had a character who was important to the plot and had abilities centered around psychic powers.

I hope that's about to change but Dragon Ball is notoriously terrible with its female characters so I'm not taking anything for granted.

Panzy is completely ruining Glorio's vibe as our solemn guide to the demonic lands and he can die mad about it. XD

Weird thing to have a character say before cutting to a montage of everyone pleasantly sightseeing with no trouble whatsoever while happy fun-time music plays in the background.

The front gate is HUNGRY OM NOM NOM NOM

Is....

...is the plan to raise Baby Dende like an ordinary child over the course of many years so that he imprints on Gomah and comes to see this castle and its occupants as his home and family?

Is that what we're doing here?

(Wouldn't he still have his memories? Goku and the others do.)

Oh, she is definitely like the king's daughter or something. There's a reason she happens to know the most convenient way to and from the castle. Glorio needs to learn how to read a room.

You know, I really thought they were gonna tease that out a bit longer.

She's got her own distinct style to her but she's definitely a bootleg copy of Bulma. Child genius female super-mechanic who attaches herself to Goku after seeing how powerful he is and happens to be the daughter of the most rich and powerful family in the region. There's visibly a lot of Bulma in her character DNA.

Even her logo on the front of her shirt often looks like a C because of the stuff covering it.

Which is kinda making me start to wonder if Glorio is a bootleg copy of Future Trunks. Grim and serious demeanor, showing up out of nowhere in a magical fantasy vehicle, leaning on a weapon but also being able to fight without it, that jacket... Huh.

HAHAHA NO

Goku, sure, but Kaioshin is one whole Fuck No in the realm of fighting Majin Buu. It is thoroughly established that he'd be up shit creek without a paddle in a straight fight with Buu.

...

In fact, so is Goku. The only form of Buu that Goku has ever been a match for is Fat Buu. And that is strictly hypothetical, based on Goku's impression of Buu versus how strong Super Saiyan 3 is supposed to be..

Strictly hypothetically, his Super Saiyan 3 could waste Pure Buu too. We all saw how well that worked out.

"Wait but wasn't Goku holding back so Vegeta could have a turn?"

Common misconception but no. Vegeta accuses Goku of that, but Goku was sincerely giving Buu his all and getting wrecked. Super Saiyan 3 is the only form Goku has that can match Buu on paper, but Super Saiyan 3's drawbacks prevent it from being able to match Buu in practice.

So. Uh. No. There is not a single person in this room that can cash the check that Glorio's stupid mouth has written. Not counting sequel series that haven't taken place yet at this point in the timeline, the only time Goku has ever been on Buu's level was when he had Vegeta to fuse with.

Seems legit. I like the cut of his jib. We should definitely make him king.

He commodifies women as bargaining chips to be bought and sold by their fathers. I don't like the cut of his job. We should not make him king.

Goku proving himself by fighting all the royal guards at once is a fun fight, well animated, and nicely paced. But I particularly enjoyed this moment.

Goku transforming to Super Saiyan not to actually go Super Saiyan but just to use the burst of ki that comes from it as a radial attack to blow the goons away. Weaponizing the power-up itself.

Some real "Shazam hits his opponent with the transformation lightning bolt" energy going on here.

...

I legit thought this guy was going to, like, reveal some sort of power that lets him teleport directly to Earth and then bring back Vegeta, Bulma, and Piccolo in a snap.

I'm looking forward to having Panzy on the team. Especially when Bulma gets here. I can't wait for Bulma to meet Discount Bulma.

[storydays]

Hello Rosie! P1

(3rd POV)

Angel held (Y/N) close after their love making session, listening to the demon purr softly in his sleep. He'd told the spider what happened in Heaven, and who'd he'd seen. (Y/N) shared his fear of holding Angel back from being redeemed because they were engaged, and tried to break it off. 

The Italian stopped that shit in it's tracks. He dragged the prince to the full body mirror in their bathroom and hugged (Y/N) close. "Look in the mirror, bambino. We fit perfectly. You are my other half, and I am never leaving you if I can help it." "You are my other half, and I can't wait to call you my husband."  They stayed in each other's embrace, knowing that they were truly stuck together. 

*Downstairs*

"So like, where are your wings?" Niffty asked Vaggie, where everyone but Charlie were lounging around staring at Vaggie with a varying of emotions. 

"Niffty, I don't have--" "Didja ever think maybe she's sensitive about her lack of wings.." Angel spoke up before smirking, "Just like her lack of tits?" He pointed at his own chest fluff, mimicking tits.

"Yeah, where are your tits?" Niffty asked innocently, looking into Vaggie's shirt, making (Y/N) snort softly from where he was standing behind the spider.

"Any other questions?"  Vaggie sighed, pushing the cyclops away from her. "I got one," Husk spoke up, "How come every time Charlie talks to Heaven, we get in deeper and deeper shit?" 

"It's not her fault. Angels are just--" 

"Liars?" Angel supplied. 

"Manipulative greedy bastards?" (Y/N) spoke up, before looking down at his Hellphone, waiting for a certain owl prince to text him back. 

"Difficult. But Charlie's trying her best." 

"Yeah, well, her best is turning out real well so far." Husk rolled his eyes, walking away. "And where is Miss Fearless Leader anyway? Isn't about time for another 'doomed to fail' plan?" Angel asked, yelping when (Y/N) flicked him in his forehead. "Watch it." He warned playfully. 

"She's upstairs. Coming up with something I'm sure, in our room. Alone."

"Hmm..." Alastor hummed before disappearing. 

*Upstairs with Charlie*

Charlie was curled under the blanket, sobbing as Razzle and Dazzle watched her with worry. 

"Oh, Charlie, you look an absolute mess." Alastor cooed, smirking as Charlie shot him a dirty look. 

"Ugh, go away, Alastor."

"Now, now, is that anyway to act after picking a fight with all of Heaven and dooming everyone you love?" The deer mocked. "I have enough on my mind without hearing your sadistic idea of a joke, asshole." Charlie turned away from him when suddenly the Radio Demon appeared next to her with a wide grin. 

"Who's joking?" He asked curiously.

"Aaagh!" she yelped. 

"You have a captive audience downstairs waiting to hear what kind of inspiring performance you have planned next." 

Alastor laid on his belly, kicking his legs like a highschool girl. 

"Ugh, I can't.  How can I face them after failing them all so hard? They came here to be saved and all I gave them was more pain. I'm just as bad as the crulest Overlord in Hell. At least they don't go around giving false hope. " Charlie hugged herself. 

"Well, I never expected to see such a miserable display of self  loathing from you." 

"Oh fuck you, Alastor. All you do is stand there, smiling while you watch us struggle and fail. I don't know how you can enjoy all this suffering so much." Charlie rolled her eyes. 

Alastor chuckled darkly, appearing behind the princess. "Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear." The deer took Charlie's face and spread her cheeks to make her smile, before turning away. 

"It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control."

"But I'm not. I'm the farthest thing from in control. The second person I trust most has been lying to me for years. Heaven refuses to listen. Even if they did, I can't prove it works. Adam had an invincible exorcist Army pointed right at my door step and there's nothing I can do about any of it! (Y/N) killed angels himself years ago, but he doesn't even know how he did it. So if the Shadow Prince of Hell himself can't help, how can I, the Princess of Hell, do anything?" Charlie asked, slamming her fist into her window. 

Alastor grinned sharply. 

"~I know something you don't knowwwww~" He sang, catching her attention. "Huh?" "Those big scary angels aren't as indestrutible as you might thing. You said it yourself, your dear big brother killed Angels himself. "

"What are you talking about?" Charlie questioned. 

"Just that you and your little band of misfits might stand more of a chance than you think." Alastor toyed with a plant in the room before walking away. 

"How? I'll do anything." Charlie begged desperately. 

"AnYtHiNg? Then let's make a deal." 

"You...you want my soul?" 

"Your soul?" Alastor asked sisterly, before brightening up. "Heavens no! All I need from you is one itty bitty favor. What's a favor between friends?" 

"I won't hurt anyone for you." Charlie said firmly.

"Who's asking! One favor at a time of my choosing where you harm no one. In return, I tell you what I know. Do we have a deal?" 

Razzle and Dazzle growled warningly before Charlie put her hand out, showing her horns and changing her eye color briefly. "Deal."

They shook hands, a green light glowing brightly enough where the hotel members could see it downstairs. 

"No, no!" Vaggie cried running upstairs, (Y/N) flying up the stairs, the wind from his wings opening the door.

"Right on cue!" Alastor called, as Vaggie arrived. "What did you do? Let her go!" The ex angel cried, charging at the deer. "Vaggie, stop!" Charlie cried. 

"What? No Charlie, please tell me you didn't--"

"No. She still owns her soul; I put a spell on Charlie when she was younger that prevented her from selling her soul." (Y/N) said, lowering himself to the ground, calculating gaze searching the two demons. 

"I made a deal with Alastor. He gave me info that can save the hotel, but we're going to need help. The angels can be defeated and Carmilla is the key." Charlie explained as she walked over to get her jacket. 

"What? Carmilla Carmine? She killed an exorcist in the last extermination. She knows how they can be harmed." 

"I---I didn't even know that was possible." Vaggie whispered in awe.

"If you did, would you have told me?" Charlie said coldly. 

"Charlie, I-"

"I need you to go to her, convince her to teach us. If she can, we might have a chance." 

"With just the seven of us?" Vaggie asked. 

"No, we're--ugh we're going to need numbers too."

"And I know just who can help. As long as Charlie can be her normal, charming self."

"What's that you said about smiles?" Charlie smiled as Alastor pat her head. "Good girl."

"Charlie, can we talk about this--" Vaggie asked quietly.

"We can talk later. Right now, we have a job to do. You with us?" She asked, eyes cold as she looked at Vaggie. 

"Yes." (Y/N) and Vaggie looked at each other with worry before following Charlie and Alastor downstairs. 

"So, uh, Alastor and Charlie just left like they were runnin' away from their responsibilities. Should we be alarmed?" Angel asked. 

"No, tesoro." (Y/N) chuckled, easing his love's worries. 

"We have a plan. But it includes defending ourselves against the angels." 

"Uh! Are you fucking high?" Husk asked. 

"They can be killed." Vaggie started as the Egg Bois ran by. 

"Yeah. That knife lady Camaro Carfight, killed one." Frank called, as Vaggie kneeled to his level. 

"Wait, you knew about this?" "Oh, yeah, I told Boss about it months ago."

"He what?"

"What? They say insane shit all the time. How was I supposed to know this one was true?" Pentious demanded. 

"Bank accounts are a scam created by the shadow government." Frank said cheerfully. 

"See!" Hissed the snake demon.

"What's important now is that we're gonna have a fight on our hands." (Y/N) spoke up, taking his role as Prince up seriously.

Vaggie nodded as she walked towards the door. "I'm going to learn how we can fight back. But when I come home, I'll understand if none of you are here." She left with that final thought. 

"Look, this hotel's about to become the most dangerous place in Hell, and we--I can't guarantee your safety anymore. I still believe in Charlie's dream, I know it can work. But none of you signed up for this," (Y/N) spoke up, "I am still your Prince, and I won't willingly let any of you get hurt, so if you want to leave, please get somewhere safe." 

Silence filled the air before Angel smacked (Y/N) on the back, mindful of his wings. "Babe, we ain't leavin' you. We've been here since the beginning, we'll be here 'til the end." Husk, Niffty and Pentious nodded their heads, smiling determinedly at their prince. 

" 'Sides, we have a wedding to plan, and we can't do that without our family." Angel cupped (Y/N)'s cheek, making the blond press a kiss to his hand. "Thank you, amore. Now, let's get to training." The prince smirked darkly, summoning his shadows' and multiple weapons. "We've got a lot of work to do."

*End.*

A/N: sorry for the short chapter lol. I'm gonna cut it into three parts, and I hopefully should have the next two up at some point today.*

[aziraphales-library]

After season 2 I'm Dying for a fix it fic! Does anyone have a one shot or finished fix it fic yet?

We now have #good omens s2 and #fix-it tags which I am sure are going to get full up in no time. Here are more fix-it fics for you...

symptoms of demonpox (otherwise known as heartbreak) by jilliancares (G)

Maybe that was Aziraphale’s first action as the new archangel in charge: I hereby declare that demons can now contract demonpox. Symptoms include wet and burning eyes, shortness of breath, an uncomfortable tightness in the chest, and an all-encompassing sense of impending doom. That would certainly explain it. Or: Crowley wonders if he'll ever be happy again. (He will.) (They're both idiots.) Immediately following the events of Season 2, Episode 6.

The Nature of Sorry by Verayne (T)

"Oh, Crowley." The angel takes a step further into the bookshop, words tumbling out in an unpractised rush. "I didn't even make it halfway up the lift before I realised what a terrible mistake I was making." Crowley can feel Aziraphale's eyes on him. If he looks they'll be big and shiny and pleading, exquisitely beseeching in his regret. So he doesn't look. He's heard the words before, near enough. Seen the expression before, too. Fool him once, and all that.

The Trinity by spacemutineer (T)

After leaving Earth (and Crowley) behind, Aziraphale finds Heaven cold but Jesus Christ remarkably warm and kind. Jesus needs a miracle to help humanity, but he needs Crowley and Aziraphale together again to do it.

Where The Furniture Used To Be by Magpie_BKK (T)

The Bentley has mysteriously brought Crowley back to central London, just as an old friend turns up at the bookshop. But not everything is as it appears, and Crowley finds himself on the run with an amnesiac angel, trying to unlock his memories along the way.

From Eden by blondecoffeecup (T)

“Besides,” Aziraphale added, his voice softening considerably, “I’ll take care of you.” Crowley grimaced, averting his gaze as if in shame. “It’s rotten work.” “Not to me,” Aziraphale breathed out, his heart twisting in his chest until he could barely find the room to breathe. He moved Crowley towards him to press their foreheads together, holding him close, pressing the gentlest of kisses to the bridge of the demon’s nose. “Not if it’s you.” Aziraphale returns to London after realizing the corruption in Heaven cannot be fixed, and seeks out Crowley in an attempt at reconciliation. Crowley doesn't believe him, thinking he's only there to trick him and then leave again, and Aziraphale finds himself expressing his apology in a less-than-conventional way - and really, how does a demon say no to his angel when said angel is on his knees, pleading for forgiveness in the way that a sinner would do to their God? (ft. Nina yelling at Aziraphale, a shit ton of Biblical symbolism, and, of course, the obligatory Hozier lyric title)

Something smells …….. evil by Angelica_Tree (G)

Left behind on Earth, Crowley dives straight for the nearest bottle, but a week later he finds himself sobering up. Something was very wrong the last time he saw Aziraphale. The angel hadn’t acted like he usually would, and the flashes of love he usually sent Crowley’s way were gone as well. Crowley needs allies to get to the bottom of it, and one of the allies is found in the unlikeliest place.

- Mod D

[clfixationstation]

ships that make me go absolutely insane

Ranked from most insane to least

EREMIN (AoT: Eren x Armin)

the entire time I'm watching them my brain is "they're just like me fr" they make me feel as if I'm tearing apart. Oh the shared dream, the ruin, the raw honesty cutting through layers of deception, the way they end - it's too much. I saw myself so much in their dynamic something about queer childhood friends to lovers. something about living in that in-between...also aspec Eren real. You have NO IDEA how much analysis I've written about them. The slow corruption of their shared dream, the way Armin knew Eren best, the way Eren looks at Armin :( "And in the corner of your eye / I saw a dream that never died" - Aurora

Catradora (SPoP: Catra x Adora)

First canon queer ship I watched <3 both healing and painful at the same time, it tapped into something deep I had forgotten long ago. The sort of relationship where you're really close but there's a gap you both feel and won't address for fear of your own feelings and about losing each other (both eremin & catradora) but then they're able to actually close it!! To see each other as they are! Do you understand how much hope that offers?! To be seen and be told your fate is not tragic? I have also written so much analysis about them. "You're the only friend I need / Sharing beds like little kids / And laughing 'til our ribs get tough / But that will never be enough" - Lorde

Cassunzel (TTS: Cass x Rapunzel)

*gasp* a ship that isn't queer childhood besties to lovers? But bro the YEARNING. Oh it hurts so bad. Also the aesthetic is simply divine. I'm ranking it here because it was very impactful for me some years ago, though I'm not into it enough right now to deliver a thorough explanation. Also I'm pretty sure Cass is a canon lesbian? Massive W. idk, something about shipping noncanon queer ships that gets me. "I'm sick of the sun / Can't trust anyone" - Poppy

Nuts n Dolts (RWBY: Penny x Ruby)

Idk they just cared for each other so tenderly and then Penny died twice and Ruby couldn't save her either time. Ow ow ow. THE doomed yuri. I love to hc both of them as aspec, & both are very neurodivergent-coded (because that is what I am). I'm drawn to the comfort, security, warmth, and the angst. There's also just something very bright in their relationship that draws me in, similarly to eremin. seeing each other in such a golden light while resenting themselves perhaps? the way they look at each other & hold each other so dear? "A chance to share the world / To be a girl who finally felt alive" - Friend, RWBY

Bumbleby (RWBY: Blake x Yang)

Holy shit the yearning! Blake abandoning Yang AND THEN COMING BACK AND STAYING. Protecting each other :') Healing together. It's just so sweet and powerful I can't help but adore it. I remember watching the first 2 seasons when I was little before I knew gay people existed, and shipping them even then. ngl I really want to go rewatch earlier seasons through a sapphic angst/yearning lens. "I made a vow, I'm not alone / Not dying now, we're protecting our own" - Nevermore, RWBY

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Tale of Love, Death and Maggots, part 17-G

Parts 1-15, 16-G

“Are you looking at this place? You said it yourself: we're in Hell. The one with the capital H. We're fucking doomed, Doc.” She gesticulated to the walls around us. “Do you really want to scrape out a life eating out of rusty old cans and drinking stale water?”

“If I get to be with you? Yes. I'd endure all the torment in the world to be by your side,” I said. And somehow, I meant it.

It took her aback. We stared at each other, silent save for the steady drip of the leaky pipe. Finally, in a soft, wavery voice, she said, “oh.”

“I mean it, alright? You bring the light back into this world. I love you, Mrin. You've made an old heart come back to li-”

She hushed me. There was a glimmer of light over her eye, the sheen of tears she refused to let fall. “You’d really do that for me? Endure that much?”

I nodded. “Like I've said, I'm no romantic. But what better reason is there to live than for love?”

“I- I suppose so.” The light was coming back into her, something firm, strong and unyielding as steel. Something like the Mrin I knew. “Okay, then. I guess there's a change of plans.”

“Here's the thing, Doc. I know how to stop that thing.” She paused, as though for dramatic effect.

“And?”

“It's gonna kill me.”

God-fucking-damnit. “Of course it is. Because this entire place just wants us dead, doesn't it?! Well, screw that, if that was your original plan. If we have to, we continue running from it until the end of time.” Or until we died, but I didn't want to think of that then.

“Yes, yes.” Mrin swatted away the thought. “We just agreed on that. I promise you, Doc, as long as I love you and you love me, I won't abandon you.”

The pronouncement made my heart warm. “But then… What are we gonna do?”

She scrunched her face up. “I don't know. Not for sure, anyway. You don't drive away such a powerful possession without great sacrifice. But- And bear with me here, this is absolutely ridiculous, but we have the power of love on our side.”

It was ridiculous to hear the words out of her mouth. What were we, children? This wasn't some silly little fairy tale. We weren't a bunch of sanitised little heroes to go against the big baddie. We were doomed, in hell, fools all of us.

Weren't we?

I swallowed my refutations and said, “Okay? And what does that mean?”

“Love, in and of itself, is a sacrifice, Doc. It's giving a piece of your heart away, letting yourself risk getting hurt, allowing hope to sink its insidious claws into you. To love truly and without reservation is a sacrifice that might just drive away a beast of pure desire like The One That Lurks.”

“This is stupid,” I said, before I could catch my tongue. “What are we doing, Mrin? We've both considered giving up. How the hell is the power of our love and hope going to make anything work? We can barely keep ourselves together! Bloody hell, in the past day we've lost just about everything and everyone.”

“I want to believe, Mrin, I really do. I want this all to work out perfectly. I want to wake up and discover I'm back in the fields near my childhood home. I want to wake up every day and feel the sun on my face. I want Athena and Brett to suddenly come back to life and live happily ever after.”

“When I said that I was gonna try my best, that I was gonna stop surrendering to my fate, that I was done being a coward, I didn't mean that somehow everything was gonna turn out alright. That just… doesn't happen. Not to people like us.”

Her expression remained eerily faithful. “But what if it could, doc? What if it could?”

“If it could, then you'd have done it by now, no?” Shit, I could feel the worm of hope gnawing its way through the applecore of my soul again. It was a foul feeling, but I resisted crushing it.

“I alone could never have done it. Love isn't something a person can do on their own. But I love you, and you love me, and together, maybe, just maybe, we have the power to stop this. To revert Athena to her old self and put the scraps of Brett back together.” She took my hands in hers. “After all, don't we have to try?”

Oh, god, this was stupid. But I'd promised, hadn't I? “Yeah,” I said. “We have to try.”

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

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@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man ch.63-66

Last time... uh, wow. Holy shit.

Okay, so all these assassins were coming after Denji, but the only three who matter are Germany's Santa Claus and his army of humans-converted-into-doll-monsters, Quanxi and her fiend minions, and Tolka and his master. While everyone else was fighting, Tolka managed to kill Denji using the power of the Curse Devil, and now his master has appeared to congratulate him. He wants to collect Denji's corpse and withdraw to complete their mission, but she tells him there's no need. Then she explains to him that he's become part of the family and talks about all the steps to creating a perfect doll.

I'm not sure I get the exact idea here, but Tolka's master touches him and he starts robotically walking around in the department store the battle is in. And then Germany's Santa Clause steps inside the store, while Tolka's Master stands outside.

Clearly, these three are all on the same team, and I guess Tolka's master is the granddaughter of Santa? Or maybe she just thinks she is? My guess is that she's another one of his dolls, but more sophisticated than the others we've seen. And Tolka is a doll she made just to carry out this task. But to what end?

Well, Santa stabs himself and calls out to a devil, offering his own heart and children in exchange for something, but what?

Turns out he's talking to the "Hell Devil", which... okay, nice flex. And he's asking for the Hell Devil to take everyone in the department store to hell. Also, here's those four kids he got as payment for this job.

Look, they're eating spaghetti! And... OH NO!

Ohhhhhh no...

So I got to this part and the art just completely blew me away. This is the best part of the whole series so far. It's kind of thin on story, but the visuals are just amazing. All the characters we've seen fighting lately are now in this weird landscape with fingers crawling around like worms. Or maybe they're just laying there. I prefer the idea that Hell has severed fingers crawling around the ground. The sky is covered in doors.

All the fiends are freaking the fuck out, and Denji is alive-ish? But not quite. The Angel Devil recognizes the scent of hell, and that's really the only clue they get as to what just happened to all of them. Quanxi asks one of her fiends how they can get out of here, and she freaks the fuck out.

Okay, so as Angel Devil explained before, the devils in this story can't truly be killed. If you destroy one on Earth, it gets reincarnated in hell, and when it's killed in hell, it eventually reappears on Earth. So it's this endless cycle of death and rebirth. However, there are devils who represent primordial fears, transcendent devils who have never left hell, because they have never been killed, even once. And that's what makes this place so terrifying. Whatserbutt would rather kill herself than face these kinds of horrors, and as soon as they draw the attention of any of them, they'll be doomed.

And then here comes the Darkness Devil.

This rules. I don't understand the astronaut thing, but it's awesome.

This guy just sort of walks up to these idiots and their arms all fly off their bodies. They're completely helpless.

The only one who seems to know what's going on is Tolka, if this even is Tolka. He kneels before the Darkness Devil, and maybe he summoned the guy here? I dunno. Anyway, he identifies himself as the Doll Devil, so maybe that's who he was all along, or Santa created him to serve as a vessel for the Doll Devil. Anyway, Doll Devil had a contract with the Darkness Devil. In exchange for Chainsaw Man's heart, he asks for the power to kill Makima.

Wait, what?

So, remember last time, when Master Kishibe tried to form an alliance with Quanxi, and he used written messages to communicate, because apparently Makima could hear him? Well, the Germans who contacted Germany's Santa Claus did the same thing. While that guy was talking to the old man about how many kids he would take as payment for killing Denji, they were actually discussing a plot to kill Makima. Apparently Denji was just a means to an end. Trade his heart for a piece of the Darkness Devil's flesh, and feed it to Tolka's Master, who is apparently Santa's new body. Or maybe she was always Santa's original body, and the old man was a puppet. Or... whatever.

So what about all the guys stuck in hell? What about them? Darkness Devil decapitates Tolka/Doll Devil, and I don't even know why. Whatsisbutt tries to use his power to turn things to stone, but....

Darkness just grabs the Stone Devil who made that power possible in the first place. Looks like he destroys Stone and the guy contracted to him.

Beam tries to pull Chainsaw Man's rip cord, but Darkness dismembers him. I'm not sure this would have made any difference, since Chainsaw Man can't seem to transform all the way. But Beam greatly admires Chainsaw, so it's no surprise that he'd try this.

Darkness Devil takes out a few more of these guys and I'm not even sure how. At least he pointed at Beam. What makes this so eerie is how quiet this is. I mean, there's sound effects, but still. Something about this feels like it's happening in a profound silence.

Then the Violence Fiend tries to attack. We met him earlier in the story, and his deal is that the Violence Devil was insanely powerful, and normally when Devils become fiends that weakens them, but Violence Fiend is still incredibly powerful anyway. He wears this mask which I think is supposed to regulate his power, and so in this situation he asked Kobeni to remove it and run away. So this is Violence Fiend Unleashed, but it still doesn't accomplish anything. Dakrness Devil makes some.... sound... and....

I dunno, chunks of him are just gone now. As he falls, someone hops off his back to fight in his place...

I'm not sure what to make of this. Maybe Denji's Chainsaw power is enough to upset the Darkness Devil? This looks like a reaction of some sort. I can't really interpret it, but this is more than the other characters got when they tried to fight.

It still doesn't work, though. Darkness Devil does some sort of thing and Denji's arms and legs twist in all sorts of bone-crunching directions.

To his credit, Violence tries again, and a big-ass sword appears over Darkness Devil's head, and Violence Fiend gets impaled on it. A bell jingles, and he explodes.

Oh, and while this is going on, Aki is losing it, because he recently gained the power to see into the future. So I think that means he's getting to experience this horror in stereo. All this death reminds him of Himeno's death, and he's losing teammates again, and he can do nothing to stop it.

Angel drops dead next, and then Aki. Oh shit, I hadn't even noticed the hands coming out to get him. That's pretty spooky.

Suddenly the Spider-Fiend shows up! Oh, right. Makima ordeered her to stick close and pull Denji out of danger if things got bad. So she must have been in the department store too when this happened. But her ambush is no more successful than the others.

I really like the "ribbit" here. What makes Darkness Devil so effective is that he's so profound. He's not a bad guy dressed in black, or hidden in the shadows. He's the personification of darkness itself. Some caveman got lost at night and heard frogs croaking and it was absolutely fucking terrifying because he had no idea what those were or what was going to happen next. There's no rational explanation for anything Darkness Devil has done. Why does it care about Chainsaw Man's heart? Why is it even bothering to attack the others? Why is it using different powers on some of them? There's no way to know. We're in the dark.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Makima is somehow aware of what's going on, and she's in contact with the Spider Fiend. She asks her to summon Makima to Hell, and Spider-Fiend obliges.

Oh come on! Makima can beat this thing too? This is insane?

I guess they kind of both hurt each other? It's not clear what Makima even did here, but okay.

This gives Makima time to... do something to the Doll Devil, which causes Tolka's body to offer itself to the Hell Devil, and thus send them all back to Earth.

The Darkness Devil impales Makima with her sword, which I suppose means that she could defeat Makima given enough time, but Makima was prepared for this and now that the Hell Devil is taking them all back, they can return to Earth back to the way they were before they left.

Meanwhile, Santa uses her newfound Darkness Devil power to assemble her dolls into a new doll body.

Makima returns close to where Santa Claus is, and she pulls the cord to reactivate Chainsaw Man. Apparently he's okay now that he's out of hell. She asks him to rescue her from Santa Claus and he replies "woof".

So yeah, this was a trip.

[002yb]

Oh, but Jason saying "I'm going home", them he walks to Dick's house, they're not living together yet but Jason noticing he spend so much time there it feels like home

This is the worst day of his life, hands down. He doesn’t say that lightly, either. Dying doesn’t even begin to compare. Hell, it would be a mercy in comparison to this: turning up on Dick’s doorstep after explicitly telling him that Jason was going home. Just. Fuck him. It doesn’t get worse than this.

As if to mock him, a gale force of wind rushes past when Jason turns on his heel to leave. It’s strong enough that Jason feels the building sway. Unsurprising given Dick chooses to live in a place with zero structural integrity. A calculated risk for the sole purpose of staying central to areas around the city that have had spikes in criminal activity in the past years. It’s an argument curated to appease Jason’s irritability over the dangers and he knows it, but he can’t argue without being called a hypocrite because Jason has done the same damn thing.

Fucking Dick. The noble and manipulative bastard.

There had been a high wind advisory earlier to preface an oncoming storm. He’s about to say that he could make the trek to his actual home before the rain starts, but again the universe taunts him - sending down sheets of rain that get blown around in diagonal sheets and there in the distance, a flash. Followed by a loud, cracking boom that rattles Dick’s unsound apartment building and Jason’s very bones.

With a heaved sigh, Jason crouches and leans back against Dick’s door. He doesn’t dare knock though because the embarrassment might just kill him.

It’s not like they’re a thing, after all. Or, they are. They fool around. More often than not Jason stays after. He had breakfast there just that morning. It’s casual though. So, so casual. Just some fucking, some post coital cuddles; maybe some pillow talk and noncommittal companionship before or after. Because they’re casual.

Jason groans quietly under his breath, head thunking softly against the door behind him. Showing up at the place of the guy he accepts booty calls from because Jason mistook it for home, fuck.

That’s a far off dream and Jason is dramatic, sure, but escalating the good thing they have going to some sort of relationship? Pass. It would be doomed. Jason isn’t going to risk it. They’ve got a good thing going without Jason spooking Dick with commitment.

As one last ‘fuck you,’ the universe spits on him one last time by having the door behind him suddenly open. Capable and coordinated as Jason is, he tumbles backwards with a curse, thrown off kilter.

When he opens his eyes, Dick is looking down at him. Surprised; pleasantly so. The smile that pulls at his lips is crooked and boyish and clearly charmed despite his confusion. The combination of being found out and being the center of Dick’s attention and charm makes Jason grimace though, cheeks flushing warm with a blush.

“Hey,” Dick says, head tilting slightly to better meet Jason’s gaze. “Thought you were headed home?”

“Yeah, I uh.” Jason starts. Stops. Flusters. Shit. For as capable as he is in vigilantism and all the work that comes with it, not a single lie or excuse comes to his mind. All he needs to say is that he changed his mind, that he wanted some dick after all. What comes out instead is, “I ended up here.”

There’s a breath of laughter from above him, but Jason can’t see it - already hidden behind his hands because this really is the worst day of his life. It can’t get any worse than - oh.

Jason peeks up at Dick from between his fingers so that he can get a visual on what sort of damage he’s just wrought, only Dick is smiling at him. Brilliant in a way that chases away Jason’s embarrassment and leaves him feeling both dumbfounded and invincible.

He’s entirely unprepared for what comes next. The building trembles as it gets battered by wind and rain, but the elements have nothing on the force of nature that is Dick Grayson.

“Welcome home then, huh?”

As easy as that.

Pleased as Dick is at this turn of events, at Jason unwittingly exposing just how comfortable he is with Dick and Dick's space and being in said space, Jason still hides himself behind his hands. It's not enough cover though so he throws his arms over his face, instead. Hiding red stained cheeks as Dick laughs and bodily drags Jason the rest of the way into his home. Jason is loathe to help him the mortification cuts so deep. He should have braved the storm; it's nothing compared to Dick and all the menace he can be.

"Oh, come on. It's cute." Dick says, soothing even as he taunts. Although Jason remains resolutely hidden, he can hear how fond Dick is. The door shuts and while Dick locks it, Jason doesn't doubt that the strong wind will throw it back open at some point. There's nothing homey about this collapsing shoebox of an apartment; it's a death trap. The only thing that feels like home is -

"I'm here too often." Jason complains, propping himself up off the ground and glowering at Dick as if he's the one to blame for that. Which he is. Fifty percent of the time. Forty. Maybe even thirty but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of their booty call arrangement.

And Dick, despite the blame and Jason's panic - he smiles. So warm and affectionate that Jason's heart might trip over itself as it skips a beat. He's just crouched there, elbow on his knee and chin propped on his hand - looking at Jason like he's something sweet; like he likes that Jason thought of home and came to him.

"Stay more." Dick tells him. "I'll give you a key."

This bastard - so fucking smooth. The definition of casual, only there's nothing casual about what Dick just laid out there. Even still, there's no denying that the offer makes Jason happy even though he flusters, dumbfounded and awestruck, timid and still stupidly giddy. From booty call to malewife, just like that? Maybe today isn't the worst day. It never really is with Dick though.

=====

This is such a sweet concept, anon!! Thank you for sharing. <3

[girldragongizzard]

Epilogue 7: Egg

The burden of being a person is that you can look around at the situation of the world at large, your own circumstances, and the instincts and drives that push you toward certain reactions to that situation, and you know that as a person you have the willpower and agency to make a choice. So you feel the responsibility of trying to figure out the right choice and to push yourself through to do it, even if it's against those instincts and drives. And then you watch yourself follow those instincts and drives anyway.

It's how humanity got here.

I was born in 1974. I was conscious and building memories before Reagan was elected, and I remember one of his debates with Carter. I don't remember it well, but I remember it was important to people. And after that, things got dark and scary.

I was raised during the end of the Cold War, during a time when no one who took it seriously thought it could or would end in any way but nuclear holocaust. And on top of that, I was educated by my teachers and parents about just how imminent and deadly global warming would be.

And then I watched as seemingly everyone forgot about all of that.

But, there are still way too many nuclear weapons on the planet, and way too many close calls with them. And, oh, look, there's that climate change. And the predicted conflicts and genocides as a result of that climate stress have been ramping up for the past several decades, becoming a backdrop a lot of us take for granted. The world's forests burn while militaries bomb the shit out of civilians and cut off their routes of escape.

And, lo and behold, the sixth global mass extinction has begun, and we dragons are, according to the Artists I've spoken to, the final confirmation of it. Never mind that seventy or so species of life form go extinct every day. Gone. No more. Something weird and alarming has happened as a result of the chaos and now the world has us dragons.

Except that we might turn it all around.

When I look back on my life, before dracomorphosis, I don't remember ever thinking that I would have children. I figured I'd die single and unmated. And that if I ever did find a partner, I'd never be able to support a child. I couldn't support myself. And, I had this weird unfounded suspicion I was sterile or something, which I think was an emotion rooted in fatalism and self loathing, really. But, you know, it's hard to have any sort of hope or sense of self worth when you're raised in a world that's obviously been doomed from before the start of your own life and nothing you ever do measures up.

I also certainly didn't see bringing a child into this world as any sort of ethical thing. I resented being alive, myself, and I saw all birth as a profound cruelty.

Though I mostly kept that to myself, because I didn't want to make anyone else feel more miserable for any reason.

I think that when I was freed from my prison of a previous body, my personality did change pretty fundamentally, though. I'm way more aggressive and fearless than I have ever been in my life. Impulsive beyond my own belief. And despite having fewer words, I talk to way more people way more often. I'm outgoing, and I'm enjoying life, and I recognize myself.

And now I'm proud to be having a child.

I feel like I'm making the world a better place by doing it. And I don't believe my child is going to suffer. I think they are going to thoroughly enjoy whatever life they have, in a way I don't think other lifeforms can ever be sure of.

It isn't fair at all. But, it's what I'm doing.

And I may not have even had a choice in the matter, except to eat my own egg after laying it, effectively aborting it. That is an option that did briefly occur to me and repulse me. But, if I hadn't bred with anyone, I'd very likely have produced a parthenogenic clone. Which would have been sort of a disappointment, but I'd still have been so proud and protective of her.

Instead, I got to experience a whole variety of sex this Spring, and then lay this precious, wonderful egg.

An egg with a surprise in it!

And laying that egg was a trip and a half.

It's about the size of my head, and almost oblong. It's nearly cylindrical, with straight but tapered sides, capped with rounded ends. Clearly shaped to roll in a circle, and to have as much interior space as possible while still being able to pass out of my cloaca without tearing anything.

I woke up in the middle of the night to contractions that felt an awful lot like an urgent shit, and I knew I couldn't make it to the outdoors fast enough. It felt like shapeshifting would have just squeezed it out faster. But, then, what started coming out wasn't soft feeling in any way, so I knew exactly what it was.

I stood up and arched my back, lowering my haunches to the ground and looking back between my legs with my head upside-down. And I got to watch it come out!

And seeing my own cloaca stretch like that was weird. Humans who give live birth can sometimes see that kind of thing when viewing it in video afterward. Or, their partners get to watch sometimes. But seeing your own body do that in real time feels like it's extra alarming. The egg came out big end first, and it is quite a bit bigger than a human baby's head. So, there was this red and yellow smeared mottled green surface in the middle of my stretching vent, and it just kept getting wider and wider, and I had no idea how wide it would have to get.

But, what you have to understand is that my haunches are much, much wider than any human's hips now, and my body is bizarrely, magically malleable.

It didn't hurt much.

It felt, at most, like being badly constipated with explosive diarrhea behind it. My gut was cramping and burbling and roiling, and I realized I also hadn't really had the sense of being pregnant before this. I'd just thought the mass was all part of my growth, and was worried I didn't even have an egg to lay. But now that it was moving, I had a sense of where it was and what it had been displacing.

Arching my back like I was doing then felt like it was helping to keep the rotated egg from pressing against my stomach and diaphragm. Which, I'm not sure makes sense compared to other vertebrates, but that's how it felt. And resting my head against the floor made it feel like I had something to push against during a contraction.

And then my cloaca got as wide as it needed to be and slipped around the bulkiest curve of the egg, and my butt went up in the air as the rest of it fell out and rolled to the floor in less than a second.

What followed was that feeling of needing to push more of something out of my gut very urgently, but having nothing there for the muscles to work on. And I felt so much lighter.

And then I really wanted that little sucker and my own ass to be as clean as possible, and I made that happen.

No need to tell you how. Though, it settled my gut to do it.

And now the egg sits on the least used cushioned chair in our living room. Green against green, at least to my eyes.

I put it there, carrying it slowly and carefully in foreclaws, before shrinking myself down enough to go wake Rhoda up and tell her what happened, to drag her out and show her our greatest prize.

That was about a month ago.

I'm not a mother quite yet, but I sure do feel like one.

—

It's a summer evening. I'm digesting three seagulls with the help of some rocks while I watch Joel snooze in the middle of his park. A family is eating takeout dinner at a picnic table near him and the kids keep trying to get up to go over and bother him, but their parents keep telling them to finish their food first. I can't hear them, of course, but their body language says everything.

I'm wondering if Joel would let our child play on him, too.

I also idly wonder if Astraia will teach them how to play D2R and other computer games.

And will Anurak go flying with them and teach them about the spawning habits of salmon?

I have this weird mix of draconic and human child rearing ideals in my head, and I don't know which ones are relevant. And, in part, that's because so much of it gets to be cultural, apparently. The dragons in the Southern hemisphere are each having their own experiences, and it's different by region as well as culture. And really, truly different dragon by dragon.

The draconologists who've started compiling the data have identified a few trends, similar to with human children. Like I said before, dragon whelps mature faster in some ways. But whether they stay with their parents or strike out for their own territories, or mingle with humans or other dragons really varies a lot.

I just don't know what my own whelp will be like until they hatch, so all I can do is daydream and make contingency plans.

And the way that Joel tolerates strange human children really makes me hope he'll do the same for a little dragon.

I know I would. But the more dragons that can socialize with my child, the better for everyone, I think.

And then I hear a familiar voice. One I haven't heard for several years, accompanied by the sound of a couple of children, and two other, deeper sounding familiar voices.

Familial voices.

They're right below me, where car doors are now slamming.

My body shudders and rumbles. And I pull myself closer to the edge of the building, so that I can hang my head over it and look down. My claws sink into the stone trim.

I can't clearly identify my emotions.

I'm maybe startled, excited, scared, anxious, and eager. I feel like when I'm hungry and I see a particularly doofy and vulnerable seagull below me.

But what I see is my sister, her husband, their two kids, and our parents walking toward my coffee shop from their cars.

For a very silly moment, I imagine bullseye targets on the tops of their heads, like that Farside comic with the caption, "How bird's view the world." And my rumbling stutters like a laugh.

I feel a sudden growing affection and a hope that I don't trust is well placed. But they're here!

Why are they here?

Do they even know who and what I am, now? I haven't messaged any of them. I've been too scared.

I can't go down there and appear to them as I used to be. It's the one shape I absolutely cannot bring myself to take. It's not even that I can't stand the dysphoria of it. I just can't do it.

But I know that shouldn't actually matter.

People who know me will always recognize me. It's like a little weakness. A flaw that sometimes comes in handy. Bewildering and strange, but reassuring.

I've gotta go down there.

They're here for me. They have to be. There's no other reason they'd come all the way up to Fairport and my coffee shop. And they look happy, and I need to see them, even if it goes badly.

I push myself away from the edge and pull myself up into princess form to quickly message Rhoda, "My family are here! At the shop! You can meet them!"

Then I message Chapman, too, realizing sie might like to see them as well.

And then I slip into my smaller natural self and leap off the building.

—

Sometimes, as a person, you've got to grapple with your instincts and drives, even as you watch yourself following them, and steer them in a new direction.

Like, making the decision between hunting a living scavenger or eating grass fed beef.

And sometimes, you can call a halt to them. Like, after a long, lovely dinner with the Artist of Being A Dragon where nothing went wrong, you might still be able to decide, "Nope. My child is going to have only the people I love to draw their traits from."

And sometimes when you've made a choice like that, it helps you face the harder things.

Like telling your seventy-six year old parents that you still think of them, even though you haven't said anything to them for years.

You hold the pride of having stuck to your principals in your gizzard, and you digest it along with your seagulls, and it nourishes you as you do the hardest thing you've done since October.

—

As I cross the street toward the shop from where I landed, I can see my family clustered around two of the big rectangular tables pushed together in the dining area. There's six of them, and maybe they're expecting me, so that makes sense. The audacity of them to rearrange the furniture pricks my secondhand embarrassment a little, but I ignore it. Nobody's bothering them about it.

The shop isn't terribly crowded, either.

Nathan is working alone, but I see Bri and Miriam hanging out doing the books on another table near my family and talking to my Dad and Mom.

It's my nibling, Rika, who sees me first, pulling on my sister's sleeve to point me out to her. Emelie lights up and smiles.

Everyone else looks and I get a mix of half viewed expressions through the windows from them, and feel myself under scrutiny. It's too much for me to tell how each person seems to be feeling, and I've never been great at that anyway. But I definitely feel put on the spot in a way I haven't felt since my first interview with the Mayor.

I feel my body stiffen up and start to strut, and I try to make it stop. I want to be relaxed, like this is normal.

I can't really manage it directly, and I feel like various parts of my body are the wrong size or misshapen or something. But I'm not shapeshifting, thankfully. I do almost balloon out to my full size, but I manage to focus on the door handle as my goal well enough to calm down and get there without doing so.

But just before I press the door latch with my nose to open it, I remember something.

I haven't even come out to any of my family as trans.

My hatching and transition was just all so sudden, and then followed by so much stress, I never messaged any of them. At least, I don't recall doing so.

I've daydreamt about doing so. I've made lots of different tentative plans that I've never followed through on.

And I know that, because of Rika, they're probably cool with trans people. Apparently. Now, at least.

But, I didn't communicate. And I should have.

And if they're looking at me now, because of the way the dracomorphosis worked, the way it resonates in the minds of the people who know us, they can already see.

That might explain some of the expressions.

I push down on the latch. And then I push against the door with the top of my head. And I walk inside.

And before I look up, I can already see that my Mom is coming into the lobby, arms out for a hug, looking sideways and the other way to figure out how to do so, and saying something about hoping to see her new grandchild.

I'll need to get my tablet out to tell her that it's too early for that, but that they can all see my egg if Rhoda invites them up.

I do briefly wonder how she knows that much.

—

It turns out that I've been memed.

There've been a few news sites, some of them garbage AI clickbate sites, that have run copycat articles on me, taking words from the Weekly's and Daily's articles. And screenshots of those have gotten around the social media sights I don't frequent. But that Rika does.

One of those articles deadnamed me, because the police did, and a bunch of trans people jumped on that to write corrections, and that got spread around. And that all happened nearly overnight, so it was one of those little corrective memes that Rika first saw. And it still had my deadname on it, so they knew it was me. Then, when they dug a little further, they found a photo of me that the Weekly's photographer had taken and that clinched it for them, and they got excited.

The first thing they told my sister was, "Your sister is trans!"

Not that I'm a dragon, but that I'm trans.

It turns out that being near a billionaire when he gets swallowed by a nightmare, and being the last person seen flying around the sky with him, kind of makes you an icon, apparently.

Weirdly, my Tumblr blog has not yet received the fallout from that. No one's found it yet, except the handful of followers I already had. So I didn't know.

I think, maybe, Rhoda's no bullshit field is still at work, since I also have yet to experience any legal trouble from any of this, either.

Is that also having an effect on the mood of my parents?

I don't know.

Possibly.

They are being way more understanding than I feared they'd be.

—

The hallway in front of our apartment is really crowded with us, and soon, the apartment will obviously be too small. I've been subtly shrinking myself to fit better.

At first, I was deluged with so many questions that I couldn't answer them even if I had taken princess form for the thumbs. Dragon's blood boon of universal language would have helped, but I still don't want it. And I don't want to shapeshift in front of my family yet. I want them to get used to me being truly me, even if I'm now smaller than I was when I first walked in the door of the coffee shop.

Shapeshifting would spur so many more questions, too. So many more.

Nathan had had to intervene, with his strong voice, and remind everyone that I use AAC to talk, and to slow down for me.

Then Rhoda showed up, and then Chapman, and it got a little easier, because both of them could talk for me.

But they both inspired even more questions.

I settled a lot of them by finally remembering this blog, and pulling it up and shoving it in front of Rika, who smirked because they've already been reading it. Natty leaned in to get an eager look, too. And then when everyone else saw my pinned post with the table of contents they realized just how much I'd already written.

And shortly after that, it was decided and agreed upon by everyone, including Rhoda, that they needed to see the egg.

So here we are.

I like to visualize the egg sitting in that quiet, empty apartment in silence just before the flood of humanity about to hit starts filtering in through the opening front door.

As Rhoda unlocks and opens it, the noise of a couple of excited children and their equally excited but hushed parents washes over the space and finds the egg. And maybe the fetus that's inside is already complex enough to recognize a few words. Maybe it knows, somehow, instinctively, that it's about to be surrounded by family.

And then Rhoda pushes the door wide, walks inside just far enough that there's room, and Rika and Natty jostle their way around her and start rushing to the living room. But Emelie calls out to slow them down, reminding them that this is Rhoda's apartment, not theirs. Justin, her husband, apologizes, and Rhoda dismisses it.

"I am so glad to be in the presence of children," she says. "With my cane, I'm not as unstable as I look. And I don't get enough of it. Please, come in."

"It should be safe to touch the egg, if you don't jostle it," Chapman says. "If Meghan and Rhoda are OK with that."

"Yes," I say, feeling apprehensive but wanting that contact to happen anyway.

"I'm OK with it, since Meghan is," Rhoda says.

That quiets the kids down significantly, as they start whispering instructions to each other while crouching down to look at and touch the egg before the rest of us can even see it.

I'm taking up the rear, because I've already seen the hell out of that egg. I shoved it out of my ass. I know what it looks, smells, tastes, and feels like.

And, also, being at the door allows me to guard the entrance, to make sure no rival dragons are coming through it to eat my egg. Not that that would happen here, or in that way. My brain just insists this is a reason, so I let it think it's a good one.

Rhoda stays in the kitchen as she watches my family file by, one eye on the too small tea kettle.

"Don't worry about it," Chapman says to Rhoda. "We've all had drinks downstairs anyway."

"I know," she replies.

And, I make it into the apartment and turn to close the door by the time my parents make it into the living room to see the egg.

There's a pause of quiet. It makes me wonder what they're all thinking. I listen carefully to see if I can catch anyone whispering or something.

I feel a little tense.

Then my Mom exclaims, "It's so small!"

And I turn to face the wall and bonk it with my head. Maybe a little too loud for the neighbors.