#idk i think it could mean something much more sinister much more serious like this might be world ending stuff i don’t know

[merevide]

chica fnaf was in my dreams i think it was like an omen. for something i have not yet figured out

[bittenbyyou]

Inferior Flames (1)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, lil cute moments

description: Your father wants you to knock Peter down a peg. OR Peter is bitter because you’re an Avenger and he’s not.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: Tony Stark being your father is already a warning as to how ridiculous he could be lol, mentions of Spider-Man: Homecoming, references from Captain America: Civil War, idk where this would fit in the MCU timeline per se b/c I’ve only recently started watching all the Marvel movies. 

a/n: maybe it’ll be a series? idk, if you like it, lemme know!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Firefly, I need a favor.” Your father plopped onto the couch next to you, so you paused your show with the TV remote.

“What is it?” you asked, turning your body to give him your undivided attention.

“You know Spiderling, Spider-Boy?”

“Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Yes. How do you still not know his name?”

“My names are better.”

“Uh huh. Wait, he’s the one that rejected your proposal to become an Avenger.” You nudged him with your elbow, flashing a smirk.

“No, no. I don’t do rejection.”

“But he did turn you down.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his frustration. “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, the kid wants to be an Avenger now. Been texting Happy nonstop about when’s the next mission and he’s wanting to see me tomorrow.”

You blinked twice and stayed quiet, a blank stare on your face as to why this was an issue. When he didn’t say anything, you gestured for him to elaborate.

“I don’t think he’s ready,” he added, crossing one arm over the other.

“You’re serious? Dad, you’ve never shut up about him ever since you gave him the suit. Even when I was abroad, I’ve seen what he can do. He’s amazing. You wanted him to be an Avenger.”

“I’m aware. But he said no and now… the ball is in my court.” The shit-eating grin on his face was soon replaced with a chuckle that sounded almost sinister.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, he turned me down and now he wants me back. God, I’m making him sound like an ex-girlfriend.” He shivered in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I get to turn him down now. It’s great.”

“So you’re turning him down because he turned you down first. Petty much?”

“Hey, that is not what’s going on here.” He turned his attention to the paused TV screen instead of meeting your judgmental gaze.

“Dad, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re really letting your pride stop you from recruiting someone as amazing as Spider-Man? Let Peter join.”

“What, are you in love with him or something? You think he’s so amazing?” he asked while doing jazz hands at the word “amazing.”

You wouldn’t call it love; it was more along the lines of admiration. During your time abroad, your father filled you in on all his adventures and antics so if anything, it was his fault as to why you were somewhat enamored with Spider-Man. Deep down, you knew your father adored Peter, so it was only natural you did too.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“You can’t date anyone until you’re 21.”

“I’m telling Mom you’re being ridiculous.”

“I already told your mom and we’ve already established that I’m ridiculous,” he said proudly, as if it was a badge of honor.

“You told me you were proud of his decision to lay low.”

“I am. I was. But now the tables have turned and what kind of person would I be if I let him in so easily? The others think I’m crazy recruiting a 15 year old.”

“16 now actually,” you corrected.

“God, this is like deja-vu.”

You giggled. “I’m the same age as him and you’ve been wanting me to join too.”

“Don’t remind me. You were the first person to ever turn me down and I’m still recovering. I’m waiting for you to crawl back and beg me, saying ‘Dad, please! Let me be an Avenger!’ Like the kid is doing now,” he said, using a high-pitched voice when he was imitating you.

“Good luck with that. I have no interest in being an Avenger.”

“See,” he said, pointing his index finger at you, “that right there is why I need your help.”

You crossed your arms in the same way he did, skeptical of where he was going with this. “Go on.”

“I want you to pretend to be another recruit who wants to be an Avenger. I’ll tell him there’s only one position and make him work for it.”

“Dad…” you said sternly.

“What? He doesn’t know you’re my daughter. And I’m trying to protect him too. The kid’s been going off doing things on his own and not thinking clearly. He can wait on becoming an Avenger.”

“He stopped Vulture. He kept looking for those weapons when no one else would.”

“He’s reckless.”

“You’re using me to make him jealous.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also looking out for him.”

“Uh huh.”

“He’s coming here tomorrow and I want you to battle him. If he beats you, he’ll get to join.”

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s genius, really.”

“You’re making a kid fight for something that you already want to give him.”

“No. Not yet.”

“You know he can’t beat me.”

Your father leaned in and pecked you on the forehead. “Exactly. Him losing will help him work harder to be better. This’ll give him that push he really needs. So will you help me?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to fight Peter Parker and make sure he loses just so he doesn’t get to become an Avenger even though deep down, you want him to be one?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s the stupidest idea ever. And it’ll hurt his feelings.”

“No, it’ll build character. He needs to understand it’s not that simple. You can’t ask to become an Avenger and get it.”

“... But he can… because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”

“He turned me down so it’s only fair that he proves to me how much he wants it. Like a test. I’m testing him.”

“No. Dad, I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll enroll you in school right now instead of waiting for the following year.”

You sighed, contemplating his ridiculous proposition. He had adopted you when you were 10 on one of his missions overseas and has kept you a secret from the public. As much as it pained him, he could not bring you home right away because you required guidance on using your powers responsibly. You had to remain abroad for a while longer until the adoption forms went through and your mentors felt you were ready to leave the tiny village where you resided.

However, he and his wife Pepper, kept in touch and always checked in. He showed up every birthday and made it his mission to be a part of your life. Now that you were in high school and your powers were restored, he flew you into New York City right away.

It’s been a few months since your transition and you absolutely loved it. The Avengers who resided in the compound were very welcoming and so far, they were the only ones who knew of your existence along with your mom. Your father had yet to announce your identity to the world because he didn’t want the spotlight to overwhelm you. Originally he planned on having you relax a bit and then enroll you in public school next year, but going earlier was enticing to you.

“... Which school?”

“Spider-Man’s.”

“... Fine.”

“You do have a crush on him.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

The next day…

Upon entering the foyer of the Avengers Compound, Happy led Peter to where Stark was. The man stood in the middle of the main entrance hall, sporting a classy suit and sunglasses. Peter clenched his fists in determination, carefully reciting the words he wanted to say in his head since the car ride over.

“Hey kid. What do you want?”

“Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. He shut his eyes in humiliation, clearing his throat and lowering his voice a bit to sound more confident. Once his eyes fluttered open, he puffed out his chest and said, “I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind,” Stark deadpanned.

“Yes. I want to be an Avenger.”

“You understand why I’m skeptical.”

“Um… yes, but—”

“Look, you turned me down last time and am I used to rejection?” Peter opened his mouth to answer but was immediately cut off. “The answer’s no, but I respected your decision. All that talk about looking out of the little guy—great—so what changed?”

“I’m ready for more than that now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America,” Peter argued.

“Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would’ve.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the realization that he got off easy, questioning his entire existence.

Stark pressed his palms together and pointed at him. “You really want to be an Avenger?”

The boy nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. “See, here’s the thing: there’s someone else.”

Peter’s face fell, heartbroken at the thought of being replaced. “What—What do you mean there’s someone else?”

“Well, after you turned me down, I recruited someone else. If you really want to be an Avenger, prove to me you’re better than her.”

“Wait, her?”

“Yeah. You think you got what it takes?”

“Well it’s rude to attack a lady—”

“No. Gender equality’s a thing, right? You beat her up, she beats you up. You both end up in casts—”

“Casts?!”

“Suit up and let’s go.”

With no other choice, Peter obeyed and did what he was told. His thoughts were racing at the thought of battling someone to prove his worth. But this was his dream and he had to get out of his own head. After he finished suiting up, Happy led Tony and him to the outdoor training area that featured a wide-opened space with reinforced surfaces.

It had strategically placed obstacles to encourage agility and tactical thinking during battles. Additionally, the area incorporated holographic projectors to create any virtual landscapes to simulate specific scenarios for the Avengers to train in.

And that was where Peter’s eyes landed on a figure in the distance. You, who was practicing your combat skills with a large kung fu spear. The way you moved was calculated, graceful, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. You performed many high kicks and flips, mesmerizing Peter as your hands maneuvered the spear so flawlessly around your body. Your father and Happy watched you, proud smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“That’s who you’ll be battling today,” Stark said, clapping his hands together once to catch your attention. You stopped what you were doing and landed in a perfect split with the spear parallel to your body, noticing your father and Happy’s presence. You got up and rushed over, your eyes quickly finding its way to the boy in the iconic red and blue costume.

“Hi D-... Mr. Stark. Happy.” You turned to Peter, loving the fact that he didn’t have his mask on yet so you could finally meet him as him. He was far cuter in person, you weren’t going to deny that. “I’m [Y/N].”

Your dad wanted this “test” to be authentic, so you couldn't tell Peter you were, in fact, a Stark. Plus you didn’t look like a Stark anyway, with you being adopted and all. It’d be a cinch.

“P-Parker, Peter. Parker Peter—I mean, Peter Parker,” Peter said softly, shaking your hand. God, you were so pretty that it made him a fumbling mess. He wondered if you two were the same age.

“Great. Now that both you kiddos are here, you both know what you have to do, right?”

You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged awkward smiles. “Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable battling a… um…”

“Girl?” you finished. “I’d be more worried about yourself, darling.”

The way the word “darling” rolled off your tongue caused Peter’s face to redden like a cherry.

“I’m not saying girls can’t battle, I’m just saying I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you going to hold back if the enemy is a woman?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but to no avail.

“You said you wanted to be an Avenger. There’s only one position available, so we’re going to be testing you both. Happy will launch the simulation sequence and then you two will be fighting one-on-one,” your father explained.

“Good luck,” Happy said, trying hard not to laugh. The two men walked a safe distance away where they could observe you both.

“What’s the simulation sequence?” Peter called out before putting on his mask.

“We’re going to be launching drones at you,” Stark called back from afar with cupped hands.

“Drones?!”

“Yeah, we want to see how much you’ve improved!”

“In 3, 2, 1!” Happy shouted as he pushed some buttons on his phone.

You and Peter both stared up at the sky as a swarm of drones lined up in a similar fashion as the game Space Invaders.

“May the best Avenger win,” you said, sending him a wink. He laughed nervously as you immediately launched yourself in the sky. Peter gasped in awe.

“She can fly?!”

Hovering in front of the drones, you closed your eyes and pressed your index and middle fingers together, forming a "V" shape. Bringing the fingers perpendicular to your forehead, it felt as if you were beckoning an unseen force. With unwavering focus, you opened your eyes, and the spear you held multiplied tenfold, floating effortlessly beside you. Extending your arm forward, you pointed confidently at the drones, issuing a resolute command for the spears to launch their attack. Explosions scattered throughout the sky as you managed to wipe out half the drones with one attack.

“And she can multiply things. Great,” Peter huffed, launching a web at one of the drones to join you.

“She’s going to destroy him,” your father said, chuckling to himself.

“Kid, come back. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

Peter shook his head while removing his mask, muttering self-deprecating thoughts to himself at his performance. You watched as he walked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Did I go overboard?” you asked, a tinge of guilt eating away at your conscience. Your father chuckled and waved off your concern with a flick of the wrist.

“No, you did great. He’ll be fine.” He went after Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. “Hey. You put up a good fight.”

Peter spun around, exasperated and using his hands to express his frustration. “I lost. There was no way I was going to win. She can fly, she can multiply things, she can use telekinesis, she can breathe fire—is she part dragon? How was I supposed to compete with that?!”

You saw him pointing at you from afar, giving him a small smile but was only reciprocated with a frown.

Tony put on a contemplating face. “Is she part dragon…?” he mumbled. “Anyway, I told you that I had to find someone else after you said no. And she’s earned her place. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but you lost fair and square.”

“But—”

“No buts. You aren’t ready. So lay low, be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and work your way up. Go to school, focus on classes, and finish that homework you’ve been putting off.”

“I don’t need to go to school.”

“Yes. You do. Even she goes to school,” Stark said, pointing over in your direction.

You went over to where Happy was, your eyes still glued on your father and Peter. “Happy, he looks so heartbroken.”

“I know. But it’s for the best. Kid’s too eager and knocking him down a peg might do him some good.”

“I feel bad.”

He patted your back and gave you a reassuring smile. “He will be okay. Your father appreciates your help.”

You immediately straightened your posture when you saw Peter come over with your father.

“Anything you want to say to [Y/N]?” your father asked, giving Peter a gentle nudge from behind.

“Congratulations,” Peter said, mustering up as much strength as he could to give you a smile. Because he really was happy for you, but it hurt for him. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and the pitiful gaze in yours wasn’t helping.

“Thanks. You did really well.”

“Yeah, but I have all the bruises,” he joked, pointing at his face in a circular motion. You took a step forward and placed your palm out in front of his face.

“May I?”

His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded anyway. An ember glow emitted from your hand and all his bruises healed in a matter of seconds.

“You can heal people too? What on earth can’t you do?” Peter was both fascinated but also very annoyed at your perfection.

“I can only heal minor bruises,” you said quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered.

“Happy, take him home for me.”

“Got it. Come on, Peter.”

“Bye Peter,” you said, giving him a shy wave. He only gave you another meek smile before walking away. You glared at your father, who only let out a sigh of relief.

“Great job, kiddo.”

The next day at school Ned practically crashed into Peter, who was at his locker minding his own business.

“Dude, dude, dude!”

“Whoa, what is it, Ned?!” Peter said, a hand on his chest from the sudden heart attack that was his best friend.

“There’s a new girl and she’s so cute. Have you seen her yet?”

Peter closed his locker shut, wracking his brain for a moment when he saw an unfamiliar face today. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?”

“Uh… I can’t remember. Was it [wrong name]? Or maybe [another wrong name]?”

Peter looked down the hall and somehow amongst a cluster of students, he spotted you walking towards him. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes somehow went straight to you and only you. Irritation overcame him as he remembered the battle from yesterday. How you beat him so effortlessly, so ridiculously cool and being all perfect. And now you’re at his school? What, were you mocking him?

“Ned,” Peter said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Is that her?” He pointed at you and nodded his head in your direction.

Ned looked over in your direction and snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s her.”

“Dude, that’s the girl,” Peter muttered.

“Huh? What girl?”

He thought about how he sulked on the apartment balcony, venting to Ned about you. “The… girl… remember what I told you over the phone yesterday?”

It took a few seconds, but Ned’s brain finally clicked. “She’s the one that beat you? Her? Oh my god, you didn’t mention how cute she was!”

“Will you keep your voice down? She’s coming this way!” Peter opened his locker again and hid his face behind it. Ned shook his head in disapproval.

“Are you embarrassed? Come on. Challenge her again.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“No, dude, stop. You aren’t supposed to know about her. Mr. Stark will kill me.”

“But she goes to our school.”

Peter hid his face in his locker until you finally passed. He let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. That was, until Ned shouted out, “Hey! New girl!”

You stopped at the familiar label people were referring to you as. Once you turned around, you saw Ned’s huge smile while Peter still cowered in his locker. The boy you were walking with scoffed at Ned’s boldness.

“You don’t need to engage with them. They’re nobodies.”

“That’s not very nice, Flash,” you said, frowning at his poor choice of words.

“If we’re nobodies, why is she friends with Peter then, huh?” Ned exclaimed loudly. If a black hole could open up and swallow Peter whole, now would be the time.

“What, you know Penis Parker?” Flash asked you, incredulous at the new information. Peter carefully pulled his head out of his locker enough to take a tiny peek at you. He wondered what you were going to say.

“Yeah. I know Peter, Flaccid Flash,” you replied, bumping into his shoulder deliberately as you made your way over to Peter and Ned. The entire hallway filled with laughter at your stinging remark.

“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”

Peter looked at your extended hand as if it was a foreign object, standing still as a statue. When his brain finally registered what you said, Ned had beat him to it, shaking your hand so fast like he was in the presence of royalty. “We would love to start over. I’m Ned. Peter’s best friend.”

You let out a laugh. “Hi Ned. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Without thinking, Peter grabbed your other hand. “Come with me.”

You didn’t have time to react and he led you to the nearest empty classroom, thankful class hadn’t started yet.

“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, letting go of your hand. You leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other.

“I go to school here now?”

“But why here?”

“Because… it’s a nice school?”

Peter placed a hand on his forehead, his jaw clenched as he thought of what to say next without sounding like an ass. “Look, you beat me and you’re an Avenger fair and square. I’m happy for you, really.” His words became soft and broken towards the end. “But seeing you reminds me that Mr. Stark will never be impressed with me. So can you give me space?”

His voice was frail but sincere. You got off the wall and gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.”

Before Peter could leave, you asked him one last question. “Sorry, but could you tell me where gym class is? I have it first period.”

It took everything in Peter not to curse out loud. He had to fight back his bitterness and said through gritted teeth. “Yeah. I have it first period too.”

You smiled to yourself, trailing closely behind him as he led you both to your first class. Together.

Reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! Thank you!

Update: I might be in the middle of writing a part 2. :) Your support means a lot!

[intermundia]

Sorry to bother you but I'm curious to know your thoughts on this.

I know it's not technically canon but the novelization does at point depict anakin wanting to leave the order to raise his kids and padme encouraging him to stay. I know he's his own person and all but having his wife pushing him to keep up the lies and secrets is kind a factor in his decisions I would say. Having someone you care for so deeply tell you to keep living a lie is definitely something that would mess with your brain and influence your perspective on things.

Idk. Just something that I feel is overlooked sometimes in the discussion of Anakin’s decision in not leaving. I would really love to know your thoughts on this.

“Anakin, not here. It’s too risky.” “No, here! Exactly here.” He drew her against him again, effortlessly overpowering her halfhearted resistance. “I’m tired of the deception. Of the sneaking and the lying. We have nothing to be ashamed of! We love each other, and we are married. Just like trillions of beings across the galaxy. This is something we should shout, not whisper—” “No, Anakin. Not like all those others. They are not Jedi. We can’t let our love force you out of the Order—” “Force me out of the Order?” He smiled down at her fondly. “Was that a pun?” “Anakin—” He could still make her angry without even trying. “Listen to me. We have a duty to the Republic. Both of us—but yours is now so much more important. You are the face of the Jedi, Anakin. Even after these years of war, many people still love the Jedi, and it’s mostly because they love you, do you understand that? They love the story of you. You’re like something out of a bedtime tale, the secret prince, hidden among the peasants, growing up without ever a clue of his special destiny—except for you it’s all true. Sometimes I think that the only reason the people of the Republic still believe we can win the war is because you’re fighting it for them—” “And it always comes back to politics for you,” Anakin said. His smile had gone now. “I’m barely even home, and you’re already trying to talk me into going back to the war—”

yeah so i think that padmé's encouragement to live the lie is deeply unhelpful. if i recall correctly, there are two key times anakin thinks about leaving the order, both of which are in her presence, and yet she is the one who offers pressure back toward staying. the above passage is taken from right after they are reunited, and it is so telling to me. padmé loves him as her husband, yes, but she also sees him as larger than life, and says things that absolutely feed his ego. she encourages him to think the rules don't apply to him, because he is so important and special.

she doesn't take his commitment to the order seriously with respect to what it means to be a jedi, but she wants him to stay there anyway. i think that this kind of encouragement is rather similar to palpatine's manipulations, though she definitely has less sinister motives, the result is the same. her permission to break rules exacerbates the potential weaknesses in his character that lead to his fall. it compounds with sidious's maneuvering. her pressure makes him feel like not only a tool of the jedi but also the democratic opposition, unable to have what he wants because of politics and duty that he doesn't personally care about. all he cares about is getting what he wants.

i honestly don't know if he was ever genuinely serious about leaving the order. he clearly does not take his commitment seriously, but he also craves the power that having high status in the order brings, both in terms of access to force training and the glory of being the youngest council member. he thinks of leaving only when he's directly looking at padmé, not otherwise. so basically it's unclear to me whether or not he actually meant to leave, but what is not unclear is that padmé absolutely pressured him and flattered him, manipulating him and trying to use him (not with bad intentions! with the best of intentions!), and it encourages him to the edge of darkness. his perspective is absolutely shaped by her words.

i just believe that they make each other worse. that is the tragedy of their relationship imho. they love each other, and it harms them both.

[punkrogue]

I always feel so frustrated with how unimaginative Marvel is with Remy, the only interesting things he's had is New Sun and X-Factor. Idk if this is true, but I read there was some rumor that Remy was gonna be an alter ego of Sinister, which would've given the writers more to work with imo. I think why some writers like Rogue and Erik more since they're much easier to work with outside of shipping. Same with Kurt, whom I sometimes think Remy is a pale imitation of (Catholic, martial artist, looks demonic, ladies man, even his powers suit a thief more than Remy's). If Kurt and Rogue weren't siblings, I'd sooner ship Rogue with him than Remy. Also, since Remy can only charge non-living things, it just makes him look weak and limited compared to other characters. I don't say all this shit to be mean, but I do get frustrated with how little material he's given, and can understand why his character is constantly put on the back burner in various media compared to other X-Men characters.

Yeah I remember reading somewhere they'd thought about doing something like that with Remy and Sinister and I think instead went with New Sun? Something like that. Also considered having him be ANOTHER Secret Summers Brother and I'm glad we didn't go this route lol we need to stop the Summers-Grey family tree from taking over the whole X-verse while we can.

I'll say that I don't feel that Remy is a pale imitation of Kurt mainly because I feel Remy deals with a lotta things that Kurt really doesn't on a personal level (true parental abandonment like no margali in SIGHT kinda shit, street life, crime, child soldier gangland shit, the greys and blacks of morality etc). You see more of those things in his solos which can even get a bit of a noir vibe to them which is nice but people just rarely wanna put in the time and effort with Remy. They rarely get him so they knock him down into say, the TAS 90s Gambit mold and call it a day. Which is just ....... no one wants that. Not Gambit Haters, not Gambit Stans.

And I get what you're saying about his powers but I think if he could charge living matter constantly like he can as New Sun homie would be so comically OP. I think the real issue here is just again, fuckers don't know how to write him so they go for whatever's easiest. So it's all lame, dumb and boring. If they let him get funky with his powers a bit more it'd could be super cool.

The pro of Rogue and Magneto when made scene partners is that they do have much more solid pre-existing characterizations, vibes and "story packs". As a writer you can walk in and already there's a couple of things you can do which are kinda like Rogue or Magneto Classics. Remy not so much so he ends up being like, Rogue's loser sidekick which sucks.

I feel you tho on the shitshow that is comic Rogue-Kurt dynamics. I too can see the appeal and charm of them as a romantic ship just as much as I can see them working wonderfully as a sibling pair. My beef around them has been for years that we get this Big Reveal that Mystique is Kurt's Bio-Mom but after he has his initial freak out for a couple issues in Excalibur or Uncanny or w/e he was in at the time I forget I just remember Amanda is there this whole thing-- IT NEVER REALLY COMES UP AGAIN BETWEEN HIM AND ROGUE AND THEY JUST ACT LIKE NORMAL AND OCCASIONALLY MENTION THEY'RE SORT-OF RELATED IN A WAY THAT'S MORE OF A REMINDER TO THE AUDIENCE????? LIKE IT'S FUN TRIVIA INSTEAD OF A PLOT POINT OR IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP????

their first serious non-combat interaction was basically Kurt telling her to drop dead when she comes to Xavier for help when she's 17 and he's 21. He finally cuts her some slack after she ALMOST DIES IN A SUICIDE BY VILLAIN ATTEMPT to save Wolverine's fiance which makes Wolverine go "yeah okay fine your not total dogshit ig" so NOW Kurt'll stop being a raging asshole to the mentally ill teen lol (I'm shit talking Kurt rn but this is genuinely part of why I love him). Then there's MAYBE a couple of scenes that are outside of Action Stuff before the X-Men "die" in the late 80s and we get Excalibur where the two of them interact, the biggest of them is him FLIRTING WITH HER.

Uncanny X-Men (1963) #192

Now-- it's Kurt so this isn't anything really all that crazy. He jokingly flirts with like 90% of the X-Men. It's just the kinda silly funny quirky guy he is. But when I'm trying to think of say, Rogue-Kurt moments POST the Mystique Reveal that really feel like People Connecting or them Actually Being Siblings I draw a blank. This flirting scene is more iconic and stand out than basically all of their 00s and on interactions because it feels like a natural and very emotional conflict they WOULD have. He goofs around like he always does, her feelings get hurt, he realizes what he's done and feels like an ass and wants to fix it. EMOTIONS HAPPENED HERE, CHARACTERIZATION AND CONFLICTED OCCURRED. THIS CONFLICT AND LATER RECONCILIATION WILL LEAD TO A BETTER FRIENDSHIP AS WE GO! THANKS CLAREMONT!

Even at her wedding he's basically just like "well I AM her brother (remember? did you see that watchmojo listicle? have you read my wiki recently) and I AM blue so I should ALSO be in the wedding."

There's really not a lot of content of them like, hanging out, post 2004 or so. Some of that is just them being in different books but a lot of it just no one putting in the time or effort. X-Treme X-Men (2001) was all about Rogue looking into shit related to Destiny's writings and grappling with some Family and Personal Grief at the start there. Kurt shoulda been around for at least the first arc. Not thunderbird that absolutely nothing of a dude. It was the perfect setting to work on this issue that the 6 degrees of Mystique™ has made. One of the only other encounters between them I can think of that's post-90s is this:

Rogue (2001) #4

And this interaction is set like VERY SOON after she joined the X-Men!!!! So it's not even a truly modern scene of them just vibing!!!!

To me, they're NOT siblings. Not in the way Kurt is with Amanda who's his ACTUAL adoptive sister or even in the way that Rogue is with Bobby, Sam or Scott who she just has Massive Broship Energies with and it's entirely because their 6 Degrees of Mystique™ is tenuous at best for how much it would really matter to them. Kurt HAS a family! He HAS siblings! Mystique abandoned/lost him and never looked for him or intended to tell him about their connection until forced to. He was raised by Margali and sees HER FAMILY as HIS family and they think the same! Like that's a standard ass adoptive family vibe.

Rogue is found by Mystique and Irene and raised by them in near isolation ON ANOTHER CONTINENT and is never informed about Kurt even in a past "i had a baby and lost him" tense kinda way or Graydon either. To her knowledge growing up she HAS NO SIBLINGS OF ANY KIND. She meets and fights against and then beside Kurt with no idea there's literally anything connecting them but that they're both mutants and x-men for like, YEARS even IN canon. Their whole relationship is rocky as shit for a WHILE there and then she gets YEETED SECRETLY TO AUSTRALIA AND HE THINKS SHE DIED. And let's be clear-- sure he's upset about her "death" too but he is MUCH more upset over the "deaths" of Logan, Ororo and Peter who he ACTUALLY NAMES WHILE TALKING ABOUT THIS GRIEF. Because you know... THESE RELATIONSHIPS ACTUALLY HAD FUCKING SCREENTIME.

Excalibur (1988) #1

He's not a monster, he does give a shit about her, but realistically over the years VERY little time has been put into building ANY relationship between Rogue and Kurt of ANY kind and it's frustrating when they really wanna act like they've got one. They don't. And it pisses me off because realistically Rogue/Kurt is less fucked up than Amanda/Kurt and guess which one is canon. Because of the 6 Degrees of Mystique™ people don't really ship them even tho there's an even more Yikes Kurt ship that's canon and Does Not Seem To Fucking Die, there's been no real development of ANY kind of relationship between him and Rogue, they've lived their ENTIRE lives not knowing each other or not really being more than coworkers and Kurt has NO INTEREST in truly claiming Mystique as his mother which is valid-- she fucking sucks.

I think Rogue/Kurt has legs and it's aggravating to me because I also really like Rogue & Kurt siblingship! I grew up watching Evolution! The sibling vibes and friendship that grow naturally up between them even BEFORE the Mystique Reveal in that show are just CHEF'S KISS. But in comics they IMPLY a familial connection that really.... doesn't mean much... and then they don't show these two deciding it to make it mean something or organically falling into a good sibling relationship... so they cut off the dynamic at the knees. You'll be shit on if you try to go off script and explore a more romantic angle because "ew they're rElAtEd" (ignoring all the previously stated flaws in that argument), there's nothing in canon that helps you figure out how friendly they even truly are so good luck building something canon compliant and they just generally don't seem to even give a shit about this dynamic at all so without dipping into other adaptations/AUs it can be hard to find something to even SAY about them.

Like I'd love to see Rogue and Kurt engage like, finding out what the Mystique Reveal means to them and how they see each other. I'd love to see them becoming friends and then family. I'd love to see them making that CHOICE. Because really in this context it's a CHOICE. She's not his adoptive sister, Amanda is. She's not his bio sister either in 616, that idea got shot down early on. She's a girl his bio mom who is a stranger to him raised an ocean away while he was raised in a loving home with siblings he adores. They met when she was a villain, he vehemently disliked her until she almost died saving someone's life then he tried to at least be civil and friendly. He finds out Mystique is his bio mother and asks Rogue about her but at the end of the day feels no real connection to Mystique or her life. His mother is Margali. The circus was his family. He cares about Mystique, Irene and Rogue because he's a decent human being but like, not in the same amount or extent as his adoptive family.

You can't have a scene of him flirting, even jokingly, with her in the 80s then think a 1993 mom reveal some how totally erases that vibe. Especially when you then put like no effort into exploring that GOLDMINE OF A PLOT THREAD. They've got so few non-combat just hanging out and engaging in character development interactions in 616 canon I can count them on my hands. At this point you could spin a wheel and decide to give them any relationship dynamic and it could genuinely work because there's no real content of them in comics to use contest it.

Like at her wedding they bring up that he's her brother again. That shouldn't be something we have a "turn to the camera and remind the audience" moment about. That should be as "well duh" to me as Bobby being her best man or Scott and Alex being brothers. It's not. It's just not. Their connection is just a factoid at this point and I hate it. You can't close off all these other potential dynamics for them (romantic/enemies/rivals/shitty roommates/etc whatever) by making them connected via Mystique, having an line every like, 10 years that reminds us they're "siblings" (are they tho? are they really? is that how this works?) and kinda vaguely imply they don't hate each other which is really just riding on the fact that pretty much ALL the X-Men like Kurt and we the audience like both of them and then GIVE US NOTHING WITH THAT STATED DYNAMIC!

MORE TIME AND EFFORT WAS PUT INTO MAKING NATE GREY SEE MADYLENE PRYOR AS HIS MOTHER OVER JEAN THAN HAS EVER BEEN PUT INTO MAKING ROGUE AND KURT FEEL LIKE THEY'RE EVEN FRIENDS LET ALONE SIBLINGS AND I'M VERY MAD ABOUT IT!!!! EITHER GIVE ME WHAT I WANT OR CUT THE REINS AT LET ME DO WHATEVER!!!

fsdkjghksdl so i just get VERY heated about this it's a pet peeve of mine.

[rosaaeles]

hellooo! new follower here! I was wondering if you could tell us what your stances on the The Hunger Games movies are? and thoughts on the new TBOSAS movie announcement? very curious!

hey anon!

my stances on the movies are..... HMMMMM

on one hand, i adore the cinematography of THG and CF. in terms of what is physically happening on screen, the first movie in particular is beautiful and poignant and there are so many scenes i love (e.g the opening scene with seneca and caesar, the cornucopia scene, katniss putting flowers around rue's body, her tracker jacker hallucinations). imo the cinematography is one of the strongest qualities the first two movies have going for them. the last two are generally a disaster and i think thats due to a bigger budget and the fact that they feel like blockbusters - they lack the intimacy of movie 1 so i generally find them more boring visually etc etc.

i also think some of the casting was good! namely josh hutcherson as peeta and elizabeth banks and effie. sam claflin was good as finnick and donald sutherland was a fab snow too imo. (stanley tucci as caesar as well! he nailed the balance between the flamboyancy of the capitol and it's more sinister side.)

movie 1 means a lot to me, and it always will so i watch it often BUT that is not to say it's not without fault.i have a lot of problems with the franchise and so it's hard for me to love the movies as much as i think i could.

i don't like the casting of jlaw, liam hemsworth or woody harrelson. and it's nothing against their acting, tbh. it's more about the fact that i have a serious problem with lionsgate saying that only white ppl could audition for the roles of katniss, gale, and haymitch (and greasy sue too which??? weird). i've said this before but by preventing non-white actors for those roles in particular, the filmmakers depoliticised the story to an extent and missed out on a chance to address the idea of "seam" being a race alongside it being a class (i'm just brushing over this topic rn bc whilst it's something im deeply passionate about, i don't want this to become another essay about THG and race bc lord knows i've bored so many people with my ramblings rip :')

beyond that, i'm not too keen on how many of the book's themes were ignored or glossed over. finnick's SA and the fact that he was forced into prostitution by snow, the capitol's hoarding of resources, the nuances of being a career, the careers in the 74th games planning to torture katniss etc etc. these are just some of the examples that im reeling off the top of my mind, and they're topics that are barely shown in the movies.

what i'm trying to say is that there was an opportunity to make such a beautiful franchise that accurately reflected the books and didn't shy away from the heavier themes or the symbolism in the books, but instead we got movies/marketing that focused on "team gale/team peeta" and "what district would you be in?". it frustrates me immensely bc an opportunity was missed!

okay phew let me catch my breath.

in terms of TBOSAS, i don't trust lionsgate to not fuck it up so i'm just very cautious about it all honestly. i want to believe they'll learn from the mistakes the last movies made and improve on them but we'll just have to wait and see! i'd love for lucy baird and sejanus to be played by non-white actors, i'd love to see a return to visuals reminiscent of the first movie and i'd love for the filmmakers not to shy away from heavier themes! but idk how likely any of these things are so i'm just keeping my fingers crossed!

sorry this got so long, anon! i hope it answered all your questions!

[aarcanechaoss]

Yamizakura “Flowers at Dusk”

Wait okay so I fucking hope I’m not like the last person to have thought about this but I was writing notes for a little what if I had planned for Higuchi (half to prove I don’t hate her half because the idea has stuck with me for nearly a month)

But I think I’m onto something

Linkylink 2 and Linkylink 2

Ichiyo Higuchi, real name Natsuko Higuchi has a story called Yamizakura aka Flowers at Dusk within it is a story of unrequited love between a young woman named Chiyo and a young man named wait for it Ryōnosuke

Um yes hello do I want Higuchi to fully be able to blast flowers at people - yes yes I do. I mean just imagine her going oh look a yamazakura, boom whomping Sakura tree. But it also gives Hanahaki vibes :( ->

Okay okay jokes aside though big sads if I’m the last one to think of this but like.., I was just gonna pick Yamizakura cuz I really liked the title and it just spoke to me and for SO FUCKING LONG have I imagined Ichiyo ripping off the bandaid and letting Natsuko (let’s say they are very different idk) have at the world.

Idk man sometimes I think about that scene in the bathroom with the Black Lizard where they pretty much were like “hey we don’t really respect you so make the right decision and we won’t kill you ourselves” and I feel sad for her like we know she has BAMF energy like imagine she harnesses that raw beautiful energy of hers and idk seduces her prey and just imagine right like imagine this as an example of what she could do- like I’m imagining she could do some serious damage but also just I can see something like this happening ->

-> -> -> -> a little steamy so be warned <- <- <- <-

It was so simple really, allowing a little skin to show really does wonders for the pea sized brain men like this have. Ichiyo- no.. Natsuko- felt his hand slide up her dress, the high slit making it easier for him to grab and grope at whatever he wished. His other hand tangled in her freshly dyed locks (it certainly was nice to have dark hair again) her wine coloured eyes watched their surroundings, watching for the team she didn’t expect to pay attention.

It wasn’t until his lips met hers did she reciprocate any actions, acting drunk certainly was a bore. She hoped- in the dark crevices of her mind- that the Akutagawa’s, Tachihara and Hirotsu were paying attention, however unlikely it is as her tongue grazed the inside of her targets mouth. It took a moment of course, with her hands gripping his face tighter, keeping him in place nails almost digging into the skin, for her ability could be torturously slow some days.

He was struggling to breathe now. Good. She pulled away, a slight trail of blood falling from the corner of her mouth, wine eyes glowing in an almost sinister way. She could hear the way he tried to breathe, tried to beg as he began to cough, the blood splattered petals coming out of his mouth. He dropped to the ground, he couldn’t think, he was dizzy, couldn’t even attempt to attack the woman he was convinced was stupid to have given him the time of day- what a mistake that was. Even more so when she pressed a finger to her ear and spoke, voice low and vicious.

“He’s out. I’m with him around the side if you want to bring the car clos- what did I do?” She paused, a smile unlike any she’d ever dared show as Ichiyo stretched across her pretty features. “I gave him a terrible terrible cough.”

BRUISES MASTERLIST

[constellaj]

16

Please talk more about your reboot!

16: If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

okay so how i would re-do CANON is completely different from how i would talk abt a reboot so im gonna touch on a couple things in both contexts! the reason for the difference is canon rewrites imply i can go back in time and introduce dp fresh and new, before anyone knows what it is; but for a reboot, id be working with an audience that has a better understanding of the source material, so i dont need to spend as much time explaining, but i also need to keep everything recognizable

Valerie

REWRITE: i would def make it more danny's fault that her dad lost his job, like danny was intentionally being reckless and shattered some security stuff, and he has a whole mini lesson about learning to not just run in guns blazing. i would probably remove the dating stuff with her and danny (and tuckers crush) too, I think them wanting to be good friends is good enough for freshman year

REBOOT: the fandom already knows valerie exists, so i would actually skip the whole shades-of-gray introductory episode and have her be present as the huntress from day 1-- probably even before danny got his powers. cujo is also HER dog, and her backstory-- we'd find out in like, season 1, that a natural ghost portal (maybe one wulf opened) ripped open on her dog and killed him, and since then shes had a vendetta against ghosts cause of how reckless they are and their disregard for life-- of course, cujo isnt actually dead. cujo is a halfa. a puby halfa. anyway instead of a hoverboard she actually rides cujo around cause he can fly and its big and epic. valerie has BEEN amity parks ghost-eradicating superhero for at least a year (tho shes been in the shadows abt it) and her hatred towards danny actually just becomes really petty, like them flying next to each other chasing skulker just going "I got this. no I got this. no I got this" and they just get in each others' way and its a mutual grudge.

BOTH: i am NOT keeping in vlad giving her the suit to watch danny under any circumstances. it was only utilized half assedly in canon (when vlad couldve just had an invisible duplicate watching him instead) anyway, and I dont have any reason to keep it in a reboot either. instead i want her tech to be a combination of half-stolen and half-gerryrigged stuff and she slowly slowly learns how to build her own.

I also dont want anyone knowing her secret identity, except maybe her dad, and sam or tucker. i think it works better if danny isnt privy to this magic info

Freakshow

REWRITE: i would honestly just remove him. the episodes hes in arent particularly interesting, theyre just generic "we need a plot about x" filler and he's not compelling enough a character (at least in writing) to carry a better plot that another antagonist couldnt. i'm serious

REBOOT: unfortunately in a reboot he's gonna have to pop up somewhere or else ppl will be like "where IS HE" so I'm going to stick with running some kind of ghost circus, maybe a few occult things, but cut out a lot of the spooky magical knowledge and mcguffin stuff. maybe i could make him like, someone from vlad/jack/maddies college who always felt pushed around by them and so he has a vendetta? and theyd be the only reason he even learned abt ghosts in the first place. idk in either way I want to force him into being irredeemable but also include LYDIA (the tattoo girl ghost) way more-- I want to give her an arc that ends in her tossing freakshow aside and running off to be a ghost vigilante.

BOTH: dear god the infinity gauntlet is stupid that needs to GO AWAY. especially for the reboot cause it would exist in a post-mcu world and way too many people would complain about it

Vlad

REWRITE: amp him up to a far more sinister and villainous character. the crushing on maddie isnt enough, I want to show him on-screen performing experiments on ghosts and himself, dismissing everyone else cause he thinks hes smarter than them. i want him to be actively sabotaging the fentons at every turn. i would also clarify that he doesnt actually want danny as a son, but as a trophy-- a line where danny says something along the lines of "you don't want a son. you want a slave". i want to make him a character who wants to destroy the entire planet and put it in the ghost zone so he can be the true ghost king and i want to make this all evident from day one. if i'm writing a series villain you can bet i'm going to write a GOOD one. less petty drama here and more actual stakes.

REBOOT: it seems silly but sense with reboot we have the benefit of hindsight and recognizing that vlad wasn't a big series villain, theres no way i'd actually go back and write him to be such. for starters, of course, theres the fact that anything he does would really be an exaggerated part of the original, and it would bore an audience to see the same story again-- theres also the fact that it doesnt seem right to take a character who was treated as a joke half the time and suddenly make them big and important. no, instead for my reboot i want to lean into the petty gay uncle vibe. he had a crush on jack and now just casually insults him. he moves mansions every now and again by just haunting the family who lives in the one he wants, and taking over-- i mean, who is gonna believe that an actual ghost haunted you. he dislikes danny not because he has some concept of 'evil' and 'good' but bc danny is just too damn active. of course he actually does care about danny and his safety deep down, it's just on the surface they have very conflicting motivations-- not to mention that danny has been raised on legends from his parents of the villainous Wisconsin Ghost, who has to be stopped at all costs.

BOTH: i want jack and maddie to KNOW he's a half ghost and to actively be hunting him down for it, maybe bc they think hes possessed, or been a ghost tricking them this whole time, or the victim of a tragic lab accident who needs to be put to rest, etc. whatever the case it will give vlad actual tangible reason to despise them and genuinely suspect they dont have dannys best interests at heart. i think it would be neat if vlad was cynical and every time danny hit him with the "I'll expose us both. at least theyll still love ME" vlad could be like in the back of his head "oh god theyre going to kill this child"

Dani

REWRITE: cut her out. we don't need her character at all. maybe replace her with a more ominous shadow duplicate / clone that actually looks like danny himself and doesnt really have a name? you could probably combine her and dark dans characters for their arcs

REBOOT: instead of a clone from vlad, she's a guys in white creation using some of dannys dna after he was captured (and vlad broke him out bc he was like "ugh i guess i have to save this child")

BOTH: vlad actually cares abt her (duh), shes nonbinary (double duh), she gets the funny dissolve into goo powers

i had more i thought i was gonna write but this post is already very long and also im running out of coherency for this LUL

[sugako]

Can i request doing the clothes swap trend with Kenma Bokuto Ushijima Oikawa and Kageyama(idk your character limit. It wasnt in your rules) i hope this isnt too much for you. Have a good day

i lowkey did not know what this trend even was 😳 but this is cute (also i don’t really have a chara limit currently within reason)

sum: clothing swap trend w/ gn!reader x kenma, bokuto, ushi, oikawa, and kags

cw: clothing switches (no sizing indicators really), mostly fluff, kinda slightly suggestive content (for bokuto), timeskip spoilers!

kenma

does not get it or why you would want to

you already wear his hoodies/sweatpants all the time so that’s the same thing he thinks

but he does it anyone because it’s going to make you happy

you get into it teasing him abt habits he has while he streams/in meetings

he doesn’t act super different but still imitates you a little

secretly loves having your soft sweater on because it smells like you

“you’re wearing my clothes right now.” he says bluntly, motioning to the old, too loose hoodie and fresh pair of boxers of his you have on.

“you know what i mean. i know you watch tiktoks even you pretend you don’t. you gotta wear my clothes.” you say, already reaching behind you to grab the set you pulled out for him.

for just another moment longer he hesitates before he finally snatches them from your hand. you close your eyes, waiting for him to change, and when he’s done he taps your shoulder.

“c’mon, my followers will like it.” he sighs.

bokuto

he suggests it as soon as he sees one video of people doing it

drags you away from whatever you’re doing to ask

already loves seeing you in his jerseys and t-shirts

idc if you have big tiddies so does he and his shirts would fit anyone

he would love to squeeze into your shorts or skirts with his massive ass and thighs

you just hope he doesn’t pull any seams, but even if he does it’s just funny and cute

“hey, baby...?” he draws out the word, pulling you away from your laptop screen. you shut it, already sensing that he wants to do something.

“what’s up?” you ask, pulling him into your arms, running your fingers through his hair.

“wanna do the couples outfit swap thing with me?”

“of course!” as you agree, he’s dragging you to your shared bedroom when he tosses his clean MSBY uniform at you, helping to drag the clothes you’re wearing off.

he shimmies on your clothes and sets his phone up to record. you hold back a wheeze as he awkwardly steps in front of the screen as the music starts up, gently mocking some of your habits. nearly in tears, you step out when it’s your turn holding onto a volleyball and trying to imitate his chest receive, but laughing so hard it barely bounces across the room to him.

“hey!” he comes stumbling back into view of the camera, laughing as he picks up the ball.

“you do that a lot, you’re very good at it with these.” you say, cupping his chest. on reflex, he tightens his muscles under your hold, firming up the soft flesh. the music fades off and the phone finishes recording.

“they’re good for a lot more than that,” he purrs, leaning in as though to kiss you, but bouncing the ball between your chests at the last second.

ushijima

another one that just doesn’t get it

doesn’t have tiktok so he doesn’t know what you mean at first

agrees immediately because you seem excited

he’s worried about fitting in your clothes though no matter your size

doesn’t know what to do so he just stands there (askjlsfj i’m sorry i just think he would)

“so, this is all.” he asks, looking down at himself before his eyes refocus on you.

“yep.” you answer plainly, buttoning the last button of his crisp, white dress shirt he pulled for you. while he didn’t totally get it, the way your eyes lit up when he was in your clothes and you in his made his heart warm and he couldn’t say no.

“i don’t do anything or...?”

“you can act like me if you want. promise i won’t be offended.” you joke, clicking the phone on and nodding at him. he’s a little stiff, but he does his best.

when it’s your turn, you hop up to him with your arms stretched over your head, spiking a mini foam volleyball that was sitting on your bedside table with a straight expression.

with his phone you snatched minutes ago you pretend to scroll through it with an oddly intense look that he gets when he concentrates. to anyone else, he might look angry, but you know he’s just focusing.

“do i really look that mad all the time?” his eyebrow just barely quirks up, and you can hear the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice.

“aww, you’re just a big, kind of sometimes serious guy with the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen.” you cup his face in your hands, bringing it close so you can peck the tip of his nose. “but, uhh yes, a little bit.”

oikawa

another one that suggests it to you

has you in a plain shirt and athletic shorts in seconds

peruses all of your clothes to find the ones he thinks will suit him best

finally finds something that’s his favorite shade of blue and gets it on

he gets very much into it, overexaggerating your mannerisms, etc.

“i do not do that!” you call, holding back a crooked smile. finally, you push him out from in front of the phone.

before he can stop you, you start making flirty faces at the camera, pretending to take selfies with your tongue stuck out and eyebrows furrowed.

“excuse me?” he chuckles, coming back into frame. “i don’t do that.”

“oh, should i be poutykawa then?” you counter, crossing your arms and sticking out your bottom lip with a sullen look on your face. “i miss my bestie in japan and shoyo so much, but at least i’ll see them when i crush them at the olympics.” you taunt, throwing your head back.

“hey,” he whines, “did iwa tell you to call me those awful names? you know i just want you to call me tooru.”

you giggle as he lets out a long, dramatic sigh.

“i’m y/n and i’m so in love with tooru oikawa, san juan setter and his pretty hair and hands even though i pretend i’m all tough.” he throws back at you, grabbing your wrists and playfully started to wrestle with you. at onces, you’re glad he proposed this silly idea even as you’re about to be strong-armed onto the ground.

kageyama

another clueless king like ushi

but also does it because you seem excited

...and he likes seeing you in his clothes

if you give him something complicated (like that laces up, skirt, dress, etc.) he needs your help

looks very good in whatever clothes you put him in

even if you’re the same height/barely shorter than him, he’s gonna make fun of you for being short

you gotta hold back your laughing tears even before you start up

you let him go first, and he stiffly mocks some things you do, in step with the music. when you have to go, you’re already on the edge of losing it, you think you’re joke is too good.

first, you take a deep breath, and use your hands to part you hair, just like you’ve seen hinata do during his kageyama impressions. you barely get out the words “...power curry...” before you feel him roll his eyes and you let out a shuddering laugh.

“is that supposed to be me?” he asks as you pretend to quickly stuff you mouth with nothing.

“what?” you chuckle, “there’s nothing wrong with being a big eater, you’re a big guy.” you say, voice raising up a couple octaves.

“uh-huh, and the power curry commercial?” he questions.

“was a, uh, very important thing that you did and now some people know you from it.” you coughed out, acutely aware of the sinister smirk growing on his features.

suddenly, he drops down to both his knees. “hmm, is this how you see things?” he says flatly, looking around the room.

“tobio, i’m not even-”

“nuh-uh, i think this is a much better impression than i did earlier.” he stops you, still looking around. “i could see below a volleyball net from here, that’s pretty amazing.”

“yeah, well you’re a big, tall...big guy.” you weakly try to counter. his flat face drops for a just a second as a smile breaks through and he nods.

“i’m actually 188cm so i think you need to get on a chair or two.”

[lazyliars]

I FINISHED DELTARUNE CHAPTER 2

Very fun. I was genuinely struggling with the last boss, played it up to 1 AM last night, was about to give up and go to bed, and then...

I don't know what happened, but something clicked in my brain? Suddenly I was perfectly dodging attacks and had the pattern LOCKED down?? I was having such a miserable time right until then. Then out of nowhere I started seeing the freaking code and owned it.

Spoiler-laden thoughts under the cut.

THAT ENDING.

So Kris opened a dark fountain in their house, right? That's what happened?

Setting aside the obvious "What the hell does it mean for a fountain to exist in the Light world" question, does that imply that they're the Knight? Probably not, right, because the King and The Queen would have recognized them...

I'm still on my crack theory that Papyrus is the knight. Think about it! He just arrived to town, and this business with the dark fountains only started recently iirc? And in UT, Papyrus wants to join the royal guard... in other words, a knight.

And considering the Lightners that have entered the Dark World so far seem to be ones facing serious emotional issues (Susie feeling like she'll always be "the bad guy", Noelle's difficulties speaking up for herself and dealing with her family life crumbling, Berdly's superiority/inferiority stemming from skewed self-perception, the myriad things going on with Kris...)

Papyrus just moved to a new place, and doesn't seem to want to leave the house. It's not hard to imagine a person struggling with the loneliness that comes from a situation like that.

The allure of being a powerful, influential figure in the Dark World would make sense.

That ties Sans into this weirdness, which in turn gets us a little bit closer to whatever the hell Gaster has to do with everything.

...or maybe not.

Theories aside, I really loved the cyber-city as a setting. I was skeptical at first because I usually dislike "electric" themed worlds, just, aesthetics wise, but they knocked it out of the park. I especially liked the glitchy garbage heap part.

The enemies were cool and adorable, the Werewires as a standout were creepy and awesome. Also liked the mechanics of the Butlers.

For characters? I liked the Susie and Noelle-budding romance, it was cute. The ferris wheel was such a good sequence.

I liked Noelle in general. Not too many specifics, I just liked the way they handled her.

AND BERDLY. Goddamn it. As soon as I saw him in the dark world, I fucking KNEW he would be my favorite by the end of the chapter because Toby Fox does not do things half-assed and I'm a sucker for character development. But Yeah no, I really, really liked Berdly's arc.

This wasn't as much of a Susie-heavy chapter as the last, but the developments she did have were nice. Her excitement at seeing Lancer was so sweet! And at the ending, I took her to the bunker, where two other kids were there, and one off-handedly said something mean about Kris and she stepped in and scared them off and then checked on Kris like... 🥺

And Ralsei. Ralsei... Gonna be honest, I was super sus of him at the start of the chapter, and still kinda am, but in a different way now. He DEFINITELY knows more than he's letting on, but whereas at the start of the chapter I was getting almost... idk, smug vibes? Now I feel pretty confident that he's more in the vein of "doing what he thinks is best" type beat. Still sus, and I still wonder what he talks to Kris about when the player's perspective shifts to Susie in both chapters... but I don't think he's a villain-in-disguise. At least, not intentionally.

There's still a lot of mysteries surrounding him that might point to something more sinister, but... yeah, idk. I think part of my initial hesitance was because I was still adjusting to his goat-face after having replayed ch. 1 with the covered bird-ish face.

Also the Swan-boat scene was soooooooooooo cute.

The big plot still remains obscured, but what with "the roaring" being name-dropped, we have some sort of endgame we could potentially ascribe to the Knight, but no motivations to couple with it yet...

I really hope in chapter 3 we get to see them. Maybe not like, ACTUALLY see them, but hear them speak, get a feel for their voice and what they're like...

ANYWAYS. tldr, Deltarune ch. 2 was very good, just as good as ch. 1 in my opinion. Now, the waiting game begins for chapter 3.

OH. Also, I am absolutely OBSESSED with the Snowgrave route. Hooooooly shit. Just... wow. I need to watch a full playthrough before I make any judgements about what it says for the story, but what I've seen so far...

It seems like a deadly reminder that the events of the Dark World DO have consequences for the Light World. It may feel like fantasy, but it can easily twist out into reality, in drastic and horrifying ways.

[lots-o-stuff]

heyyy! how r u? i just discovered your blog and I really love your writing 😭😭 soo i was wondering if I can request a hc for oikawa, um so his s/o begins to receive messages from the oikawa fangirls telling them that they doesn't deserve him and insulting her body and things like that and oikawa finds out and he comforts her;; idk if that makes sense sorry but that idea was in my head all week 😿😿 (also sorry for my bad english and ily🥺🥺💕)

Oikawa’s Fangirls Bullying his S/o

I was really nervous for how this would turn out because this was requested as a fic instead of headcanons! anyway i hope i did it justice! Sorry that it took so long as well

*****************************************************************************************************

Dating Oikawa Tooru was something else, he was the perfect person -in your eyes-, he was gorgeous, had an amazing personality and well somehow, in an amazing turn of luck? He was your, this perfect, amazing man was yo-

"Baby? hello? are you in there"

You turn your face to the side and see you oikawa giggling at you and looking adorable. You were both currently laying on your bed and relaxing.

"Im here Tooru, just thinking,"  you smile at him, " thinking about how lucky i am to be with you."

Oikawa absolutely adored and loved you, and everyone knew it. You, Iwa-chan, The team, hell even his parents… but for some reason his personal fanclub decided that they’d ignore that because THEY wanted him and you didn’t deserve him. You never could understand the people that obsessed over someone to that point.

Oikawa gushes at you ,"Awww Baby! you think of me? thats so adorable!," he cups your face in his hands, "i think about you all the time as well!"

You could find some reasoning when people obsess over a famous person or celebrity, i mean you had your fair share of celebrity crushes but over a teen boy who is just being passionate about his favourite sport? It didn’t sit right with you, especially when that teen boy is your boyfriend it’s even worse.

"So….. what exactly were you thinking about me? all good stuff i hope?"

you grab his hands in yours, "Just things Tooru nothing important."

You didn’t hate the people in his 'club' honestly you were just annoyed by them, Tooru would always come to you and complain about not having any alone time at school. This turned into him coming over to yours after school to study, you enjoyed it because he would help when you were stuck and you’d stop him from overworking yourself.

Your face scrunched up at the thought of his club.

"Ok something is up" Oikawa says as he pulls you to sit up on the bed with him, "What’s wrong?"

When you to got together Tooru had warned you that some people might bother you, something about his 'loving and loyal' fans and how they’d be disappointed. You didn’t think much of it because people aren’t gonna stoop low enough to try break you guys up…. right?

"Its fine tooru i’m just a bit stressed" it wasn’t necessarily a lie but it wasn’t the truth either.

It started off simple, you were walking down the hall to go to and find Oikawa only to find two or three girls hanging off him with him looking very panicked, honestly you just brushed it off, absolutely trusting your boyfriend. So his fans upped the anté.

"Its obviously more than that doll," he looks at you softly "Please talk to me?"

You started to hear rumors around the school about Oikawa cheating on you with some different girl everyday, you tried to ignore it and brush it off as just a rumor but when it involved the girl that you hated and who hated you? Thats when you confronted him. He immediately denied everything and both him and Iwaizumi (who was with him) were confused because they hadn't heard anyone say that.

"Tooru like i said its nothing serious," you turn away from him and lie back down.

You two had been dating for about 3 months and all the fans plans of breaking the two of you up had failed and this is where it got serious. You were checking your locker one morning when a note fell out. It was a death threat. For you to stay away from oikawa. They started off once a day before increasing after a week.

"Bullshit," he peers down at you, "whatever this is, its hurting you and i wont stand for anything OR anyone hurting you!"

About a week ago they somehow found your phone number, they had been texting you death threats and insults and it was really starting to wear down on you. To the point you DID start to slowly avoid Oikawa. He noticed straight away, he is very observant after all and that leads to where you are now. The both of you sitting on his bed talking.

"Tooru i’m serious its noth-" a soft ding resounds around the room as your phone gets a notification, you turn to grab your phone but he grabs it before you.

You can’t see the screen but from the sound of the notification you knew immediately who it was. You watched as His face read the message, he tapped the screen and opened up your phone. He scrolled up to the first message and read all the way back down, his face scrunched up before turning almost sinister.

"why didn’t you tell me?"

"tooru i-"

"do you not trust me?" He looks at you with sad, pleading eyes.

A heavy silence falls between you, sitting up you turn away from him and try to hold in your sobs. You didn’t want him to know about this situation, you didn’t want to have him stand up for you and prove what the girls said as true, even though they are.

Everything they said was true, you were weak, you were ugly and not worth his time or effort or any-

"Stop it, look at me," he gets up and kneels in front of you holding your hands, "You are amazing! honestly! i don't know who the hell this person is but they don’t know shit about you or me or us!"

He lets go of your hands and cups you face.

"You are my everything Baby, i don’t need anyone or anything else as long as I have you ok?"

"Ok.."

*****************************************************************************************************

This turned out way better than I thought! anyway I hope you enjoy and I’ve got more requests and posts im working on!

[spooky-luvur]

Is it possible for you to do a fic with Dutch with a male s/o who's deeply in love with him but has a shitty, very homophobic and abusive family?

Anything is possible, dearie.

Also, idk how to put in a ‘read more’ on mobile, so until someone helps me do that, you’re stuck with a big block of text sorry.

I really enjoyed writing this. I hope it’s okay. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

-

(Warnings: abuse, mentions of rape, language)

(Sorry for any spelling mistakes)

-

Ranching had been your family’s life since the day your great-great grandpappy had built the entire thing with his own two hands. It was for his wife, Amy Rose. She had come down with a serious illness one day, and she told her husband that before she died she wanted to own a ranch. And he loved her enough to let her have her wish. And so Amy Rose Ranch was born.

You lived and worked here with your parents and two older brothers. Although you wouldn’t exactly say they worked here too. Your family wasn’t...the nicest folk. At least, when it came to you. They thought you were no good, so they left you with the dirty work around the ranch. Which was pretty much...everything.

Shoveling shit, for one. It had to be your least favorite. You also had to do it quickeri than a man could pull a gun on his enemy during a duel. If you took too long, your brothers would come in and force you to clean it all up with your hands, saying the shovel was the reasons you was taking so long.

Ma handled the fancy stuff that didn’t require no shit shoveling or cow milking. She busied herself with the money and who owed them what. Money was a big thing to Ma. She always had to have as much as possible so Pa could buy her that new jewelry set or a fancy mirror. Buyin’ herself all the new clothes and looking more like a queen than a ranch owner.

Pa wasn’t no good neither, but don’t let him catch you sayin’ that. He’s as good as a saint around other folk, but around you, he was as mean and nasty as the devil himself. He’d beat you when he was mad, or when somethin’ around the ranch went wrong, or, on real nasty days, he’d lock you up in the cellar, yelling at you that is was your fault they was losin’ so much money. You never thought too much of it. Honest. It’d been the same for so many years that you’d begun to think it was only normal. That maybe you were the cause of all their problems.

But not this one.

—————

Loud laughter from outside the barn made you pause from laying out hay for the pregnant cow in there. You recognized your pa’s very loud and very fake laugh he saved for folk with lots of money. Shaking your head in sympathy for whatever man stupid enough to fall right into your fathers greedy hands, you turn back to the hay. Before you can finish, though, you flinch at what Pa says next.

“My youngest boy, (M/n), is the one that handles the horses. (M/n)!”

You force back a loud sigh and set down the rest of the hay, pushing open the barn doors to stand next to Pa.

“Yes sir.”

“Take these fine gentlemen to pick out a few horses.”

Your gaze skins over the rough-looking men before you nod.

“Yes sir.”

Before you can turn to lead them to the stables, your father roughly but discreetly grabs your arm and hisses in your ear.

“Don’t screw this up. They have big money.”

You incline your head in a nod, and he lets go, allowing you to lead the men away.

“Dutch Van der Linde.” The nicest dressed man beside you holding out his hands, metal rings gleaming in the harsh sun. You hesitate. Pa had always told to never interact with anyone more than you needed to. For the sake of the other person, of course. Finally getting a good look at the mans face, your breath catches in your throat awkwardly.

By god, he was lovely.

Warm brown eyes look at you curiously. You remember his hand and hurriedly shake it, eyes never leaving his face.

“Uh- I’m- (M/n), I’m (M/n)...”

“Well it’s good to meet you, Mr. (M/n).”

-

“This is Colt. Four years, Thoroughbred. Good if you wanna be fast. Ezra, five years, Paint.”

Dutch nods along as you list off fair horses. The other two men were off somewhere else in the stables after he’d nodded for them to trot off and check out the other horses.

It was all going well, with Dutch asking a question ever now and again, until you were in the middle of explaining how you bred one horse. The sound of a gun cocking makes your entire body freeze up at the unfamiliar sound. You put your hands up by your head like Pa had taught you to.

Dutch’s warm breath fans over your neck, making you shiver. His voice comes close to your ear.

“Now, Mr. (M/n), we’re going to take a few horses, and you’re going to tell your Pa we’ll be back in a day or two to pay. You think you can do that?”

A sinister laugh from the side makes you flinch.

“Aw, Dutch, don’t make the kid piss himself! He’s shakin’ in his boots!” The mean voice taunts, making Dutch chuckle. The cold barrel of the gun leaves your back, making you relax slightly, hands lowering. He turns you around, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“You gonna answer me?”

“Yes sir, I- I can do that.”

He pats your shoulder. “Good.”

-

“What?!”

“Th-they said they was gonna be back Pa, I didn’t-“

He backhands you, making you fall back with a pained noise you cut off in your throat.

“They better. They better come back, and they better pay, or it’s you I’m putting a bullet through next! Understand me, boy?!”

“Yes sir...”

-

A few days later, the men do return. They don’t return on the horses they took, which confuses you a bit, but you don’t have the time to think about it once Pa offers them to have some fancy whiskey in the drinking room.

They laugh like they did when the men was first here. This time, both Ma and Pa were laughing with them. Pa yells for you to come pour some more drinks. You go and do so, handing them out. Once you offer Dutch his, he grabs your arm instead of the glass, making you let out a small startled noise. His eyes meet yours before they move down to your uncovered arm, tracing the bruises left by the many harsh grabs from your Pa and brothers. He lets go after a few moments and grabs his glass, taking a sip as if he didn’t do a thing. You blink, straightening up and taking your place beside Pa’s chair.

“What do you and your men do for a living, Mr. Van der Linde?”

Ma’s honey eyes trail over the mans strong arms, down to his several expensive-looking rings. She flutters her eyelashes, giving him an attractive grin.

“We’re merely men, Mrs. O’Malley. Men that needed horses.”

She gives him a fluttery laugh, trailing her fingertips along her exposed collarbone. To your relief and amazement, he doesn’t even give her a second glance. She doesn’t seem to notice his attention is no longer on her.

“So, Mr. Van der Linde, our money?”

“Of course, sir. We have your money. But first, how about another drink?”

Pa never refuses another drink.

“Of course! You can even pick it out. (M/n)!”

“Yes sir.”

“Show Mr. Van der Linde our selection. Help him choose well.”

“Yes sir.”

The entire way to the room, you can feel Dutch’s eyes burning holes into the back of your head. Neither of you say a word, though. You were still wary of the man that held a loaded gun to your back.

You open the door to the room filled with various kinds of alcohol, bowing your head once Dutch passes.

His eyes skim over the room before he turns to you, making you straighten up, keeping your head down. You clench you’re first to stop them from shaking.

You hear the well-dressed man slowly walk closer and closer, until you can see his polished shoes. Nearly jumping at his fingers curling under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. His...kind...eyes.

“Your daddy ain’t very good to you.”

It’s not a question.

“I...Pa’s just...he works hard-“

“A daddy should work hard and respect his son.”

Dutch grabs your arm with his other hand, turning it over to look at all the scars and bruises. “This, this is *not* respecting your son.”

Your eyes start to water. “Please...Mr. Van der Linde-“

You look back up, into his eyes, and your face falls completely. That look...a look of pure concern...you’ve never seen a look like that directed to you. Ever. But...they’re not good men. You can tell. Pa can tell. Something’s off. But even with that, you can’t help but feel a pull toward the man before you, as if you need him. Need him to care about you.

But before anything else can happen, the door swings open, making you jump back. Dutch, however, doesn’t move, staying perfectly calm.

Your brother stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He looks between the two of you, putting the pieces together.

Then, his mouth curls into the most sinister and evil grin you’d ever seen.

That’s when you knew, you were fucked.

Pa didn’t say a word to you the rest of the night. You didn’t know if your brother, Alan, had told him what he’d seen. You were tense, waiting for someone to jump up and strike you so hard you’d die.

But nothing happens.

By the end of the night, Pa and Ma are as drunk as a crook. They laugh heartily as they show the men out, completely forgetting all about the thousand or so dollars they still owe them. It was a trick, you realize. You don’t think the men have the money. And Mr. Van der Linde, you realize as the man meets your eye, knows that.

Pa beats you that night.

-

Two days later, the men return. But things are different. Pa is impatient, and is also starting to wonder if they actually have any money, or if they’re the drunk crooks. They take their seat in the sitting room, but Dutch is the only man from his side to sit as well. The other two men remain standing. Tense. Like a guard waiting for a moment to strike.

No drinks are poured.

For the first several moments, no words are exchanged.

Then, Pa asks the question.

“Where is my money Dutch Van der Linde.”

Dutch intertwines his ringed fingers. The corners of his mouth twitch. He looks amused.

“There is no money.”

Faster than anyone else can move, Pa lets out an angry cry and whips up out of his seat, taking the bottle of expensive scotch on the table and smashing it over your head. Foul smelling liquid and tint shards of glass rain down on your face, that and the pain making you cry out, stumbling to the floor. The alcohol stings your eyes and blurs your vision.

Dutch, to the others astonishment, springs to his feet, clenching his jaw as he takes in your crouched form.

“My money! Give me my money!”

Ma gasps as the other two men whip our their guns, both of them pointed at Pa. The man seethes, deciding to turn his anger to you. He kicks you in the chest, making you let out a pained wheeze.

“Faggot! You goddamn faggot! This is all your fault!”

“Settle down, Mr. O’Malley. Your son did nothing-“

“Nothing?! Why are you so concerned for him?! Did he suck your cock?! Did you fuck him?! That’s all he’s good for!”

The air in the room itself seems to pause. All three of the men freeze and look at Pa with wide eyes. He wouldn’t...

“Fine! If you want him so much then take him!”

He pulls you up by your hair, throwing you at Dutch who catches you in his arms. You push yourself into his chest, tears and blood running down your face.

Someone’s gun goes off. Something falls to the floor. Ma’s scream is cut off by another shot. Something else falls, and then it’s silent.

That night, you stand outside the house with Dutch.

“I am...sorry...you had to live like that, (M/n).” He pulls out a nice stack of bills from his pocket, putting them into your hand. “But you don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

You frown.

“You can go into town, take the train somewhere and-“

“No!”

Dutch raises his brow. “No?”

“I...” you shift, embarrassed. “I want to come with you. Please.”

He shakes his head. “My life isn’t-“

“I don’t care!” You force the money back into his hands.

“If it isn’t with you then I don’t want it. I’ll...I’ll never be safe!”

Dutch studies you for a long moment. Finally, he grins.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

[lake-arrius-caverns]

Nerevarine Rising

Chapter 9: Outlander Avenger

this took too long to post heehoo ive noticed that sometimes italics don’t save when im posting on tumblr? might have been a glitch idk but in that case it’s better to read on AO3 where the formatting is actually proper lol 

summary On their arrival to Vivec City, the twins part ways and Fahjoth finds himself drawn into the investigation of a very serious crime. 

content warnings violence, blood, minor character death

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

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“Ey, Ribyna, have you ever heard of Ashlanders?”

“Yeah, why?”

Fahjoth paused, pulling a disgruntled pout. The sun had well and truly set now; the last vestiges of warmth had evaporated entirely, replaced by a nipping chill and creeping shadows that submerged their surroundings in deep blue blankets. Vivec City loomed in the distance, unlike anything Fahjoth had ever seen before. Instead of individual houses like he had seen in every other town he’d been to so far, the city was populated by rows of colossal cantons, square and blocky yet towering over them with a kind of intimidating grandeur. Walkways bridged the gaps between the cantons, stretching over the rolling waters of the Ascadian Isles’ open bay, and several flags and tapestries fluttered from the sides of the cantons, embroidered with differing patterns and art that Fahjoth couldn’t make out from a distance. 

Turning his gaze back to Ribyna as they crossed the bridge towards the first canton, Fahjoth gave an exasperated huff, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. “Oh, so it’s just me, then?” he questioned. “Being an idiot as per usual. D’you know, I made a right tit of myself to Cosades earlier. Told him I didn’t know what Ashlanders were, then he gave me a bollocking for being a dipshit. I mean, how was I supposed to know? Nobody’s told me!” 

Ribyna’s response was surprisingly terse. “Well, maybe if you kept your mouth shut more often instead of chatting a load of shit, you’d listen and actually learn something for once.”

Fahjoth blinked, taken aback by this harsh rebuttal. He was used to Ribyna’s blunt manner of speaking of course, but this was something else entirely. He had noticed her demeanour getting more subdued and her posture stiffening the closer they got to Vivec City, and chalked it up to weariness after their long walk. Now, however, he was not so sure. Was that a hint of nervousness he detected in her voice?

“Are you alright?” he asked, then frowned sympathetically. “Bit nervous about being in the big city?”

“What?” Ribyna turned back to Fahjoth and flashed him a scathing look. “No, of course not. Don’t be stupid.” 

“Then what is it?” He received no response, as Ribyna stopped walking and examined their surroundings, occasionally dropping her gaze down and squinting at the map she held. 

“Right, I’ve got some shit to do,” she announced, as if she hadn’t even heard Fahjoth’s concerns. Fahjoth was certain that this wasn’t the case. “I’ll see you later.”

“Whoah, hang on a second!” Fahjoth protested, disconcerted by Ribyna’s unexpected change of plans. “I didn’t realise we’d be splitting up. What are you doing, anyway?” 

“Just... stuff,” Ribyna replied vaguely. Fahjoth grimaced; perhaps it was best that he didn’t know the details after all, if she was here on business with the Thieves Guild. 

“Alright, fine,” Fahjoth said, relenting. “But where should I meet you?” 

“Uh...” Ribyna gestured aimlessly at the immediate canton, the details on its banners now impossible to make out in the dark. “The map says this is the Foreign Quarter. Just find a cornerclub or something in here and get a room sorted for us. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.” 

“Right,” Fahjoth replied mutedly. Admittedly, he was disappointed; he had been assuming that he and Ribyna would explore Vivec City together, but now, he was resigning himself to being Billy-No-Mates for the next few hours, or however long Ribyna would take to do her mysterious errand. “See you later then.” 

Fahjoth thought Ribyna may have flashed him an apologetic glance before she turned away, but then she stalked away along the path flanking the canton and rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Heaving a sigh that materialised in the air as a faint puff of steam, Fahjoth turned and headed up the sloping path towards the canton’s upper door, slipping inside and into the warmth. 

The inside of the canton was well-lit with torches and rather cheerfully decorated, an array of potted plants sitting in the corners while colourful tapestries and banners hung from the walls. Fahjoth could see a variety of people going about their business, not just Dunmer but Imperials, Bretons, and Redguards, among others, and in that moment he felt a strange sense of almost belonging. Initially he was surprised, until he realised that he was in the Foreign Quarter, and he was left with a deep feeling of despondency instead. 

This grim reminder that he truly was an outlander was accentuated by the unrelenting glares he received from the Ordinators who patrolled the corridors, striking an intimidating presence with their gleaming gold armour and helmets, fashioned into the shape of a sharp elven face with a crest of hair atop their heads. 

“We’ll have no trouble here,” one of the Ordinators said in a low, rasping voice as he walked by. “Move along.”

Suppressing a shudder, Fahjoth began to wander around the upper floor of the canton, trying to look as if he knew where he was going as opposed to being totally lost. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long before he found himself at a door with a sign overhead reading The Black Shalk Cornerclub. Figuring that he was not going to find anywhere more ideal than this, he pushed the door open and stepped in with caution. 

The cornerclub was quiet, with only a few punters sitting around tables or standing in the corners of the room, deep in conversation. A Dunmer stood organising a collection of bottles behind the counter, while an Argonian sat at the bar nursing a drink of his own. Fahjoth approached, plonked himself onto a stool near to the Argonian, and offered him a smile of greeting. The Argonian, who had seemed quite tense as Fahjoth sat down, suddenly relaxed and gave Fahjoth a polite smile in return. 

“Can I have a mazte, please?” he asked the barman, reaching into his pocket for his coin purse. “Oh, and how much would a room be for the night for two people?”

“That’ll be twenty drakes for the room, sera,” the barman replied, pushing a bottle of mazte towards Fahjoth. “And ten for the mazte.”

“Oh, alright, cheers! I’ll take it then,” Fahjoth replied, handing over the coins with relief. He caught the Argonian’s eye and chuckled, a wry grin curling the corner of his mouth. “Ribyna reckoned it’d be more expensive than that.”

“Ribyna?” the Argonian questioned. 

“Ah, that’s my twin! She’s off doing... something,” Fahjoth answered, his voice trailing off thoughtfully as a mild frown settled on his face. “I’m not sure what. She wouldn’t say.” 

“I see. That sounds rather sinister.” The Argonian smirked. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Fahjoth couldn’t hold back an awkward giggle. “You’re right, sorry. My name’s Fahjoth,” he said, holding his hand out, which the Argonian shook after a brief pause. 

“Huleeya,” he introduced himself, withdrawing his hand and taking a sip of his drink. “Well, I can’t blame your twin for being secretive. Not with this recent spate of attacks on outlanders.” 

Fahjoth’s smile slipped from his face. “Attacks?”

“Oh, yes.” Huleeya nodded gravely. “Not just attacks, but murders. Five outlanders have been found dead this week. Not only that, but two Ordinators have been found dead too. Killed in the same way — that is, with their throats slit.” 

“Gods alive... Do they know who’s doing it?”

“If they knew, they would have been caught already,” Huleeya replied. “The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer, from what I’ve heard.” 

Fahjoth paused. Though this had given him a lot to think about, there was something else he wanted to ask. “Is that why you looked a bit...” — he gestured vaguely with a wave of his hand — “on edge when I came over?”

“Hm? Ah, no. It’s not that,” Huleeya said. “It just wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had trouble from the local Dunmer, that’s all.”

“What do you—?”

“Excuse me, outlander. I should get going.” Huleeya finished the remainder of his drink and stood up. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fahjoth. You and your twin should be careful if you’re out wandering alone at night.”

“Ah... we will. Thanks, mate,” Fahjoth answered, watching as Huleeya said his farewells to the barkeep and took his leave. Once again, Fahjoth was left alone with his thoughts, and he began to get some very dangerous thoughts indeed. 

The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer...

He bit his lip as he nursed his mazte, quietly wrestling with his own brain. To think that he would be able to go up against a serial killer who had slain two highly trained Ordinators was madness, and yet...

By the time he had drained the last of his mazte from the bottle, he had made his decision. Fahjoth stood up, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of foreboding, dropped off his supplies in his rented room and headed outside into the fresh night air once more. 

                              ——————————————

The Office of the Watch was much further away than Fahjoth had anticipated, and by the time he arrived, his legs — which had been trembling with nerves — were heavy and aching from weariness, which didn’t bode well for what he had to do. It had been a very long day already, and more than anything Fahjoth was craving a nice warm bed to fall into, but he’d come all this way. There was no going back now. 

After navigating the Hall of Justice — with some difficulty, assuaged only slightly by the directions given to him from irate Ordinators on patrol — Fahjoth eventually found himself at the doors of the Office of the Watch, which he knocked gently and waited to be given permission to enter. 

Peering around the door, Fahjoth was faced with a rather small and cluttered office inhabited by three Dunmer in the usual golden cuirass and boots, who were sitting at messy desks and perusing sheaves of parchment. One of them, a dark-haired Mer with a moustache and goatee, eyed Fahjoth as he crossed the threshold, the heavy bags under his eyes indicative of his tiredness.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “We’re very busy, as you can see.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Fahjoth apologised, “but I’m looking for an Elam Andas?”

“Yes, that’s me. I am Elam Andas, chief of Vivec's Order of the Watch. Are you here looking for work?”

Fahjoth bit his lip, knowing full well that this was his last chance to back out of his foolish and potentially suicidal mission, but he ploughed on anyway. “I heard you were looking for help solving these recent murders.”

The effect his words had on the office was startling. The officers stopped what they were doing, each of them fixing their red eyes on Fahjoth with dubious expressions. Fahjoth remained silent until Andas spoke again. 

“We cannot officially hire you as only Ordinators can serve the watch,” he explained. “But if you can find this killer and bring them to justice, we’ll see to it that you’re rewarded for your efforts.”

Bring them to justice? Now that was something Fahjoth was sure was well above his pay grade. He had been hoping to do a bit of investigation, to help the Watch with their search, but to be tasked with bringing down a serial killer himself? That wasn’t something he was at all confident he could handle. 

“Oh, I—” he started in alarm, but Andas cut him off. 

“I require no commitment from you,” Andas informed him. “In fact, I can’t even officially accept one. But if you’re serious about helping, I can tell you what we know so far about the killer and the victims.”  

After a moment of hesitation, Fahjoth nodded, and Andas gestured to the seat across his desk. Fahjoth obeyed, sitting and listening in silence. 

“There have been seven victims so far, five outlanders and two Ordinators, and all with their throats slit. Three of the victims were found in the Foreign Quarter, one near the Arena and one in the Hlaalu Compound. None of the outlanders had been on Vvardenfell for more than a week.

“Our Ordinators were found near the body in the Hlaalu Compound, and we think they interrupted the killer at work. Despite the fact that they were armed and on duty, their weapons were still in their sheaths when their bodies were found, which is unsettling. We’re likely looking at someone incredibly stealthy, or adept at illusion magic.”

It was times like this that Fahjoth dearly wished he could read and write. At least then he would have been able to make notes. 

“Finally... there is the matter of witnesses. We’ve had no official witnesses come forward, but one outlander reported being threatened by a Dunmer woman with a dagger in the Hlaalu Compound, around the time of the other murders. He couldn’t give us a very clear description as he teleported himself away to safety, but he told us she was wearing a skirt and netch leather armour.”

Fahjoth nodded, frowning as he tried to absorb all of this information, all the while his heartbeat had quickened uncomfortably with apprehension. Without further ado, he stood and excused himself from the office, heading back outside and into the late night’s chilly grip. 

Hearing about the victims, as well as Huleeya’s dire warning, had strengthened Fahjoth’s resolve. Someone was lurking in the shadows of Vivec City, slaughtering innocent people seemingly purely because of their foreign origins. People just like him.

His years spent away from Morrowind had left him as good as an outlander in the eyes of the native Dunmer, and if someone considered that fact alone a trait punishable by death, then they couldn’t be allowed to continue to walk free. Someone needed to deal with them, and if the city’s Ordinators couldn’t — or wouldn’t — then perhaps it would be up to him. 

Although... it would probably be a good idea to find Ribyna first, Fahjoth figured as he set off towards the city’s northernmost cantons, before he went blundering headfirst to his potential death. Again. 

The path ahead was dark and unsettling, and Fahjoth found himself throwing anxious glances over his shoulder every few minutes, flinching at the slightest unexpected sound and eyeing every shadow with mistrust lest he be ambushed by a dagger-wielding, skirt-donning Dunmer intent on ending his life. It was with relief that he made it to the first of his destinations and, incidentally, the last place he had seen Ribyna heading towards — the Arena. 

                             ——————————————

Unfortunately for Fahjoth, Ribyna was nowhere to be seen, so he lingered around the Arena for long enough to do some investigating, inquiring with a few inhabitants and Ordinators but turning up no new leads. Eventually he was forced to resign himself to the fact that he would be a lone worker in this case — a thought that inspired a well of dread in his gut — and moved on. 

The same was to be said with the Hlaalu Compound, where Fahjoth had checked in the hope that someone would have seen something about the attempted attack, but he had no luck there either. He then moved on to the Foreign Quarter where, to his surprise, an Orc was happy to assist. 

“I recall someone — maybe one of the sewer cleaners — saying something about seeing a Dunmer woman down in the Underworks. Wouldn’t be that odd, but... in the Underworks? That’s odd. Nothing down there but rats and sewers.”

Which led Fahjoth to his next point of investigation — the Underworks. 

                             ——————————————

The moment he stepped foot in the Underworks, the smell hit him like a brick to the face. Almost choking on the pungent stench of sewage water, Fahjoth lingered for just long enough to feel just a little more regret before he set off, trying to forget the misgivings he felt. He yanked his scarf up to cover his nose and mouth and navigated the Underworks as carefully as he could, every footstep deliberately placed to be as quiet as possible. He was well aware that the killer could be lurking around any corner, and the deeper he tread into the sewers the more he felt his legs begin to tremble.  

It was almost silent down here, the only sounds being that of the murky water sloshing against the smooth stone sewer walls and the occasional drip of moisture from the damp-ridden ceiling. Every so often he would hear a rat scuttling around in the darkness and his heart would jolt, requiring him to take a moment to stop and let his adrenaline levels fall after an unpleasant spike that set his pulse racing. 

As he progressed, however, more unpleasant thoughts began to surface in his mind. One possibility kept presenting itself to him, and as hard as he tried to reject it, he found that he couldn’t wholeheartedly dismiss it. 

“What are you doing, anyway?” 

“Just... stuff.”

He remembered that strange look on Ribyna’s face when he mentioned going to Vivec City. He could tell easily when his twin was apprehensive, and as brief as it was, it had been only too clear to see on her face back in Balmora. Was she nervous about returning to the scene of the crime?

But that was ridiculous! His twin wasn’t a murderer! 

What reason would she have to kill outlanders, anyway? The more Fahjoth thought about it, the more illogical it seemed. Least of all because he had never even seen Ribyna wear a skirt for as long as he could remember. So why couldn’t he simply disregard it? The fact that he even had doubts in the first place said enough, and he was even more nervous as he crept through the tunnels, dreading the possibility of seeing his twin around the next bend. 

So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts that as Fahjoth rounded a corner and exited a smaller tunnel into a larger section of the sewers, he didn’t even notice the figure standing at the end of the tunnel until he was looking straight at them. With a choked gasp, he flung himself back around the corner from which he had just emerged and pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach tied up in knots. After pausing to listen for any sign of the stranger’s approach, he deemed it safe enough to peer around the wall again and get a better look at the figure ahead. 

Even in the low light, he could tell that it was a Dunmer, and they were indeed wearing a skirt with what seemed to be a leather cuirass. This particular corner of the sewer almost looked like a base, with a scruffy bedroll laying on the ground near evidence of where a makeshift fireplace had been lit in the form of a charred mound of wood scraps. A pile of dilapidated crates and debris were strewn haphazardly around the alcove, in some cases holding — or failing to hold — contents like food and bottles of alcohol. Evidently, this was someone who had stocked up for some time. 

Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed Fahjoth yet. She sat atop one of the crates, perusing some sort of book or journal and occasionally making notes. A dagger — stained an ominous rusty hue — sat by her side, and Fahjoth’s suspicions were all but confirmed. 

How was he going to do this?

He could call it a day, back out quietly the way he came and return to the Office of the Watch with what he knew of the killer’s whereabouts. But even then, would anything get done? Would the Ordinators get here in time before the killer made another move, and claimed another victim?

Perhaps if he could sneak up behind her, he could get the advantage. He knew better than anyone that he was no master of stealth, but she looked fairly preoccupied. Perhaps if he was quiet and quick, then— 

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did he become aware of a weight suddenly pulling vigorously on his foot. As he looked down, he silently squirmed and grimaced at the sight of a large rat digging its teeth into the chitin, shaking its head as if determined to pull his boot clean off. It made no noise other than a soft, squeaky growl, but the splashing of the water beneath its paws was unsettlingly loud and echoed due to the circular tunnel’s acoustics. If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before the killer would notice him. 

“Get off!” Fahjoth hissed, frantically shaking his foot. “Get off! Get off, you little c—!”

Unfortunately, the rat refused to budge. It was dragged along in the wake of Fahjoth’s mild kicks, which gradually grew more and more vigorous as he fought to free his foot of the rat’s vice-like grip. Leaning on the wall for balance, he raised his foot up off the ground, now aggressively kicking at the air when all prior attempts at gently shaking the rat off failed. The situation would have been comical had Fahjoth not been so painfully conscious of the murderer sitting barely 20 yards away from where he stood. 

At last, after what felt like hours, the rat let go. However, the momentum given to it by Fahjoth’s kicking motion caused it to gracefully soar away as it was flung off his foot and land with a tremendous splash in the deep sewer water in front of him. 

Instantly, Fahjoth froze. He pressed himself back against the wall, his breathing fast and laboured as he strained his ears for any sign of movement. Apart from the splashing of the rat as it swam away, apparently done with terrorising Fahjoth for the time being, all was silent. Then, as he dared to peek around the corner to evaluate the situation, a pair of red eyes stared into his own as he made direct eye contact with the Dunmer. 

Her reaction was instant. She leapt up from her seat, dagger in hand, and stormed the length of the tunnel towards him, already screaming abuse and profanities in his direction. Kicking hard off the ground, Fahjoth threw himself into motion, and with the Dunmer hurtling closer his options for where to go were limited. A brown and grey blur in his peripheral as he passed indicated that the Dunmer was giving chase, but with the advantage of having longer legs, Fahjoth half-sprinted and half-leapt over a nearby bridge spanning the sewer water before pelting down to the tunnel’s end. Whirling around once he came to a stop, the Dunmer was mere seconds behind him, so Fahjoth drew his sword and stood fast. 

Wielding a dagger which seemed to emanate a sickly red glow, his opponent lunged, landing a glancing blow against Fahjoth’s armour as he leapt back. But she was much faster than he had anticipated. He stumbled back and threw himself from side to side to avoid the Dunmer’s aggressive strategy of repeated jabs and slashes, breaking into a sweat and feeling his flanks ache with every shallow pant. One thrust of the dagger slid between the gap in the chitin protecting his arm, slicing through the sleeve and nicking the skin beneath. 

With a gasp, Fahjoth flung himself backwards. There was a dull thud as his heel collided with something on the ground and his balance was completely thrown off. 

His stomach lurched as he began a sharp descent, hitting the ground with a painful bump. The scraping and groans of the crates he fell against rang in his ears as the Dunmer was suddenly filling his vision, dagger poised ready to plunge into his throat. 

With his sword arm raised in a vague attempt to defend himself, Fahjoth reached to the side, grasping at nothingness in a frantic search for something, anything, that could— 

The cold sliminess of damp wood brushed against his fingertips. He fastened his grip, braced himself and flung the broken chunk at his assailant with as much force as he could muster. 

The jagged lump of wood, a deadly weapon in its own right in the right circumstances, struck the Dunmer square in the face. She staggered back with a howl of pain, clutching her eye while blood seeped from a fresh injury above her brow. With adrenaline coursing through him, Fahjoth sprung to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword with fingers now damp from his own blood. 

The Dunmer lifted her gaze to Fahjoth again, her uninjured eye blazing with a chilling hatred, but before she could make another move Fahjoth had sprung. He rushed forward and thrust his sword into the Dunmer’s midriff, the tip of the blade piercing the thin, aged leather of her armour with surprising ease. Then he continued pushing forward, until his sword had been buried up to its hilt into her stomach and protruded out from her navel. 

The Dunmer froze, paralysed by the deadly blow, and Fahjoth relinquished his weapon and backed off, unable to do anything else but stare as she staggered to the side and fell. A sharp clang announced her collision to the ground as the sword’s blade hit the ground first, but once her momentum stopped and she lay still, total silence fell upon them. 

Silence, apart from the sound of Fahjoth’s ragged breathing. 

As he stared down at the lifeless Dunmer on the ground before him, Fahjoth only became conscious of how badly his legs were shaking when he tried to take a step forward and his knees almost buckled beneath his weight. Only one thought circled in his mind, over and over, as he silently watched the blood starting to ooze out from beneath her body. 

He had done this.

Someone was dead because of him. 

The more logical part of his brain insisted that if he hadn’t, it would have been him lying there in a pool of his own blood instead. But that didn’t make him feel much better about the fact that he had just taken someone’s life. 

There was a part of him that didn’t even want to approach the body to retrieve his shortsword, but at the end of the day, he had paid good money for that. And it wasn’t as if he had a backup. So with a trembling hand he grasped the hilt, slowly prising the sword out of the Dunmer’s body and wincing at the sickening sound of the blade gliding against flesh, squelching and wet. He cleaned the metal as best he could using linen from the makeshift bed, then sheathed his weapon and reluctantly searched the camp for evidence to present to Elam Andas. 

He didn’t find much of any substance. The journal the Dunmer had been reading was, of course, impossible for him to read. Quite apart from not finding any sense in the words, it was damp and smudged terribly to the point where it was barely legible. Still, perhaps the Office of the Watch would have better luck; he took it, along with an old rusty key and the Dunmer’s dagger, which left him feeling oddly nauseous and drained after his fingertips came into direct contact with it.

The damp stickiness of blood on his arm and staining his sleeve was impossible to ignore, as was the injury beneath it, so Fahjoth took a moment to attempt to heal it on his own. With the spell he had acquired from the Mages Guild in mind, Fahjoth closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in concentration; he racked every corner of his brain, searching for any spark that could ignite the spell that he could feel hesitating at his fingertips. But in his already worn-out state, the attempts only ended up draining yet more of his energy and left him with a considerable headache. In the end he conceded and admitted defeat, recognising a lost cause when he saw one. 

Then Fahjoth embarked on the long walk back to the Hall of Justice, craving fresh air and a warm bed above all else. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he had successfully taken on a serial killer and lived to tell the tale, but there was an odd light-heartedness in his chest as he traipsed back along the paths through Vivec City’s shadowy cantons, feeling somehow more confident than before.

                             ——————————————  

Fahjoth’s triumphant — albeit exhausted and bloodied — return to the Office of the Watch was met with disbelief at first, followed by amazement once he broke the news that the killer had been dealt with. Elam Andas was thrilled and accepted the dagger and journal as evidence without question, perhaps a sign of how desperate he was to believe that this Dunmer was no longer a threat. After expressing his gratitude he sent Fahjoth on his way, with a promise that Ordinators would be sent to clean up the mess and the reward of an enchanted belt to protect him on his travels, which Fahjoth accepted eagerly. Although he was pleased with the response to his daring deed, he was now more than ever looking forward to collapsing into bed after a very, very long day. 

With thoughts of only soft pillows and warm sheets on his mind as he entered the familiarity of the Foreign Quarter, it wasn’t until he came face-to-face with someone approaching the hallway to the cornerclub from the opposite way that he realised he had forgotten something — or rather, someone.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth exclaimed, recognising his sibling even from a distance. But something was wrong. There was no wave or call of greeting from Ribyna, who walked silently over to him with a pronounced limp in her step.

“Ribyna?”

In the light of the torch that hung from the nearby wall, Fahjoth could see that Ribyna was in a dreadful state. Her armour was scuffed and damaged in places and her hair was a mess, but most worryingly was the copious amount of bloodstains that spattered and smeared her almost from head to foot.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth gasped, rushing over to meet her and instantly beginning to fuss. “What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Ribyna grunted, making a half-hearted attempt to push Fahjoth away.

“You’re covered in blood!”

“It’s fine. It’s not my blood.” Ribyna paused to wince, doubling over slightly and gritting her teeth. “Most of it...” 

Before Fahjoth could question her further, they were interrupted by the rapid approach of an Ordinator, his sword drawn and raised at Ribyna threateningly. 

“Halt!” he barked. “Murderous scum! You violated the law, outlander. Surrender and come with me immediately.”

Fahjoth's mouth fell open with horror. Murderous? Surely there had to be some kind of mistake...

However, Ribyna's silence was not encouraging. Instead of protesting her innocence, she reached into a pocket and tugged out a somewhat bloodstained roll of parchment, which she passed over to the guard without a word. To Fahjoth's astonishment, once he had finished reading it, he nodded and tucked the note away in his own armour.

“All of your papers seem to be in order,” he said, dipping his head to Ribyna. “You are free to go.”

And then he walked away, leaving Fahjoth utterly bemused as he stared at his still very quiet twin. 

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell just happened?” he questioned, and Ribyna huffed. 

"In a sec. Let's get inside first," she muttered, slipping away into the cornerclub without waiting for a response. Fahjoth, left with little choice, followed her in and then led the way to their room. The moment he opened the door, Ribyna pushed past him and dropped down onto the bed with a groan — much to Fahjoth's displeasure, as he had been hoping to do this exact thing first. 

“Well?” he prompted, lowering himself into a nearby chair and slouching back, relishing the chance to take the weight off his sore feet for a while. “What was that guard on about, calling you ‘murderous scum’?” 

It was a moment or two before Ribyna dragged herself upright again and turned her gaze to Fahjoth. 

“I joined the Morag Tong.”

Fahjoth, who had been in the process of removing his boots, froze motionless as he felt his blood run cold. “You what?!” he hissed, once he found his voice again. “You’ve— what?!”

“Yeah.” Ribyna’s tone was level as she stared back at Fahjoth, looking more tired than defensive. “Don’t start, alright? I’m knackered.”

“Don’t st—?!” Fahjoth bolted upright, keeping his voice hushed as best he could but fighting to quash the outrage that burned in his chest. “You’ve gone and joined a murder cult and you’re telling me to not start?!”

“It’s not a murder cult!” Ribyna protested. “It’s perfectly legal!”

“Just because it’s legal, doesn’t mean it’s not a—” Fahjoth stopped mid-rant, rubbing his eyes with exasperation. “Just... Ugh, what have you gone and done that for? Can’t you just do something... normal?! Like... I dunno, go join the Fighters Guild if you really wanna stab things!”

“No.” She slouched down, looking suddenly more tired than ever. “Look, maybe I’m fed up of being treated like the shit on everyone’s shoes, alright? Maybe I just... wanted a bit of respect for once.”

Fahjoth faltered, experiencing a flicker of sympathy for his twin. He knew that feeling all too well. “Beebs, you don’t need to become a murderer to be respected.”

“I was already a murderer,” Ribyna pointed out bluntly. Fahjoth felt a twist in his gut, memories from that horrendous day threatening to resurface in his mind. “At least this way I can get paid for it.” 

Fahjoth paused, struggling to find an argument and fighting to put into words exactly how he felt about Ribyna’s new career choice. Eventually, he heaved a sigh. “But... it can’t be safe. Look, you’re injured! I’m... I’m worried about you, Ribyna.” 

“Well, don’t be. Turns out I’m half-decent at killing people.” Naturally, Ribyna’s answer didn’t reassure Fahjoth in the slightest, but she ploughed on anyway with a change of subject. “Anyway, what about you? What have you been up to?” Now that she was evaluating Fahjoth properly, her eyes soon fell on the bloodstains that still blemished his clothes and armour. “Is that blood?!”

“Yeah... and this time, it is mine. Honestly, you won’t believe the day I’ve had, Beebs,” Fahjoth said, before he began to regale the whole story; meeting Huleeya, learning about the outlander killings, going to the Office of the Watch, venturing into the Underworks... 

By the time he had finished, Ribyna was staring at him with an incredulous look on her face. 

“Hang on,” she started, “you killed someone and you’re having a go at me for joining the Morag Tong? Hypocrite, much!”

“I— but— what?!” Fahjoth spluttered, affronted. “Th-that’s different! I’m not an assassin, I was stopping a serial killer—”

But he promptly shut his mouth once he noticed the wry grin curling at the corners of Ribyna’s lips. 

“I’m only messing,” she chortled, her smirk quickly becoming a proud smile. “Holy shit, that’s amazing, Fahji. Shame they didn’t pay you for it, mind.” 

“I don’t mind,” Fahjoth replied honestly, calming down again. “I’m just glad she can’t hurt anyone else.” He paused, feeling heat rising in his face as he prepared himself to confess to something. “Honestly for a little while, I was worried that the killer was gonna be you.”

Ribyna promptly cocked a brow. “You fucking donkey, why would I go around killing outlanders? I am an outlander!”

“I was just freaking out!” Fahjoth protested. “I was tired, and nervous, and you’d been acting proper shifty, and— well, I obviously wasn’t that far off, was I? Might not’ve been outlanders, but you were planning on killing people after all!”

Ribyna rolled her eyes, busying herself with removing her own armour. “Yeah yeah, alright, you’ve already said your piece. Come on, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m absolutely wrecked.”

Though he still had plenty more to say on the matter, Fahjoth agreed, for both their sakes. He was looking forward to crashing just as much as Ribyna was, and once they had finished helping each other tend to their injuries and settled down for the night, Fahjoth was asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillows. 

—————————————————————————————

tag list  @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

[jetsetlife138]

Die A Little (Betelgeuse x fem!reader)

Summary: You purchase a house that is haunted by a ghost-demon creature who tricks you into summoning him into the land of the living. He shows his gratitude in an unexpected way.

Pairing: Beetlejuice x You / Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count: 4,700 Warnings: SMUT Idk what I’m doing. This is dedicated to @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice​

That motherfucker.

It started off as a terrifying introduction that led to so much more. Long story short, you had been offered a job in some podunk town in Connecticut and took it as an opportunity to start fresh. The bustling lifestyle of your old city was vastly different to that of the rural suburbs of the North East, but you didn’t mind the change as much as you thought you would.

As a bonus, the house you had moved into had been recently vacated and was on the market for a steal due to the demise of its most recent inhabitants. Though you felt badly for the deceased owners, it worked out well for you. Never in your life did you think that the deal of a lifetime would lead to your own personal ghost.

Actually, you weren’t even sure what he was. Merely hours after you had moved in, he had revealed himself to you, seemingly shocked that you had the capability to see him. At first, you thought that he was some rando intruder messing with you, and you immediately went to call the cops. You nearly pissed yourself when he stopped you before morphing his face into something so horrifying that you couldn’t even put into words what you saw. That’s when you realized with certainty that he was not human, since no human in existence had the capability to do that.

After that, your curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from analyzing him. His whole existence was incredibly fascinating to you.

The creature before you stood confidently, his intense eyes narrowing in a challenging gaze, toying with you. His posture was loose and casual, though still slightly intimidating. His dark hair that faded into green was thick and unkempt. He was adorned with a baggy, worn black and white striped suite that seriously could have used a wash.

He stepped closer to you, his footsteps unnervingly making no sound whatsoever, causing you to take a step back in response. He grinned briefly before clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Now, now. No reason to be afraid, babe. I’m just as curious about you as you are of me.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” you retorted under your breath, still looking him over.

“Got any questions for me? Ask away, I’m an open book,” he insisted, clearly enjoying the attention that he was getting from you. He had a harsh, raspy voice that oddly enticed you, encouraging you to keep him talking.

“Um… I guess your name would be a good start.”

He chuckled, earning a shiver through your body. “You got me there. I, uh, I can’t tell you.” He winked playfully at you, once again stepping closer to you.

Eyeing him skeptically, you asked, “Why not?”

“I got it,” he snaps his fingers, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “How ‘bout a game of charades?”

“Seriously?” you muttered, taken aback when you realized that he was serious.

He was clearly trying to sway you; to make himself seem less threatening as a way to get you to let your guard down… and it was working. Several minutes later and a few embarrassingly failed attempts at guessing, his name was finally revealed.

“Betelgeuse?”

“'Atta girl! That’s it! Just two more times, babe,” he urged, biting his lower lip in anticipation. “Really get a feel for it, come on.”

Why he wanted you to repeat his name was beyond you, but you figured you’d comply rather than have him kill you in your sleep or something. “Betelgeuse.”

He nodded his head excitedly, a slight moan escaping his throat, as if the sound of you saying his name gave him an actual form of pleasurable relief.

“Betelgeuse!”

The air in the room thickened as soon as the last syllable left your tongue. His eyes flashed at you as he bared his teeth at you in a sinister smile. “Thanks, doll. I owe you one!”

Before you could even ask what he was thanking you for, the floor beneath you started to shake, causing you to stumble as you tried to get your bearings. Since when in the fuck did Connecticut have earthquakes?

Once the house settled, you looked around to see that you were alone, no ghost-demon thing in sight. It was obvious that saying his name three times did something that enabled him to come and go as he pleased, leaving you behind without another thought.

Awesome. Who knows what evil you just released into the world. If was your fault for being so trusting and foolish, but at least he was out of your hair.

The next day, exhaustion had taken over as you sat on your couch, lost in a daze as you slowly swayed a glass of wine in your hand. You watched the viscosity stick to the side of the glass in a mesmerizing way while trying to force yourself to relax after what had probably been the most stressful day of moving that you had ever experienced. Then again, no one ever said that moving across the country into your first home was ever easy.

Feeling the wine start to take effect, you’d turned on the tv but couldn’t really focus on it. You were too busy thinking about Betelgeuse and the immediate effect that he had on you. Part of you wished that he would come back. Maybe he would even visit you tonight? Of course, chances were high that he had just manipulated you to get out. You’d probably never see him again if he didn’t want you to.

It was getting late and the wine started to make your body feel heavy. Today’s events rested on your tired shoulders, and your bed was calling to you. Around midnight, your fatigue was too much to ignore, and you succumbed to it.

Not bothering to remove your clothes or take off your makeup, you crawled into your bed, letting out a relieved sigh once you were tucked in under the warm covers. Further thoughts of your ghostly interaction could wait until tomorrow.

Just as you had begun to drift off to sleep, a strange feeling of unease fell over you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as you forced your eyes open to look around your dark bedroom. When you saw nothing, you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or disappointed.

Sighing heavily, you threw your head back into the pillow, frustrated with yourself. Once again, the mysterious creature was plaguing your mind, keeping you from falling asleep. The memory of the way his voice lulled you into a compliant state of mind and how his charm was dripping with sexual magnetism washed over you, leaving you wanting.

What the actual fuck was wrong with you. Did you seriously have a ghost kink?

Just as you had started to fall back asleep, a raspy voice carried over the darkness. “Miss me, babe?”

You yelped, sitting up and jumping towards the head of the bed, away from the unexpected intrusion. With your heart thumping harshly against your chest, you strained your eyes to adjust to the darkness to see the silhouette of a familiar figure stepping towards you out of the shadows.

That familiar smirk was adorning his face, which you could now see more clearly in the moonlight, making his skin seem even more pale, though it oddly suited him. Even through the darkness you could see his green, unkempt hair. He no longer had his jacket, but was still wearing the rest of the clothes as before, looking just as sinful.

“Betelgeuse,” you stated, trying to suppress the thrill that was surging through you. “What-”

“Am I doing here?” he finished, relishing in the effect his surprise entrance had on you. “Come on, I think we both know the answer to that. But, uh, take it easy on the name, doll. Can’t have you sending me back now, can we?”

You swallowed hard, trying to mask your intrigue and overall elation, but you knew that he could already sense it. Still, that didn’t mean that you were going to give him the satisfaction.

“Are you here to kill me?” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself.

He hummed thoughtfully, inching his way towards you, now having almost reached the end of the bed. His crooked smile widened a bit before he answered with a question, “Would you like me to?”

Scoffing at his response, you replied, “Obviously not.”

“Well then,” he dipped his chin, chuckling darkly. “I’ll do my very best to keep you alive.”

That made you nervous. “What if I don’t want you?” you asked, knowing that you had already given away your obvious arousal and desire to be with him, but the question still plagued you. “You promise not to kill me, but would you hurt me if I’m not…” Trailing off, you didn’t want to give the impression that you didn’t think you were good enough, so you rephrased, “If I don’t want to do this?”

His brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled in disdain of the question. “I really hope you’re not asking what I think you are.”

Hearing him say that made it sound ridiculous that you were even asking, but still, you nodded your head. His expression softened as he drew closer, taking you in with his piercing gaze, already making you want to melt into the sheets.

“No,” he answered sharply. “First of all, I may not be human, but that doesn’t make me a monster.”

Instant relief washed over you after hearing him confirm what you had already suspected. He could probably see your body relax against the bed, which encouraged him to continue. “Secondly, I have no need to fuck you against your will seeing as how desperately you’ve been wanting this since the moment we met.”

Busted. You opened your mouth a couple of times to protest, but you couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely right, but you couldn’t stand his cocky attitude. “I don’t-”

“Oh, you do,” he stated confidently, cutting you off. “I can smell that you do, babe. I know how badly you’ve been craving this, and I know that it’s been far too long since someone has touched you the way you need to be touched - the way I intend to touch you.”

“Is that why you came back here?” you snapped. “Because you felt sorry for me?”

He stepped to the side of the bed now, a somewhat feral look in his eyes, which was masked by the coy smirk he displayed as he toyed with you. “On the contrary, I’m intrigued by you. I’ve been thinkin’ about this just as much as you have.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Somehow I doubt that,” you mumbled. “So, what, you thought I would be an easy target for you?”

“So defensive!,” he accused before laughing quietly. “You did me a service today, and not only did I want to repay the favor, but I wanted to get a taste of you for my own needs. You’re exactly what I’ve been longing for, and I think it’s safe to say that I am what you’ve been needing, too.”

Just hearing him say that made your body tremble and a wave of heat rush to your core, which he could sense immediately, earning a knowing chuckle from him. Your breath shook as he knelt on the bed, stretching out his hand for you to take as a gesture of consent due to your previous hesitance.

No longer afraid, you locked eyes with him as you tenderly placed your hand in his, jolting slightly at the feeling of his chilled skin. He raised his eyebrows smugly at you as he closed his hand around yours, pulling you upwards to join him in a kneeling position.

He leaned forward then, rubbing his cold cheek against your flushed one as he slowly moved down to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, followed by a wanton groan. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

You bit your lip to keep from revealing how desperately you wanted him, but when he pulled back and looked into your eyes, it was evident. The only comforting thing was that he seemed to want you just as badly.

“Well then,” you breathed softly, running your hand down the buttons on his shirt. He hummed in question, seemingly distracted by you somehow. You continued, “You want to thank me for releasing you? Show me how you intend to do that.”

His pointed teeth glistened in the light as he smiled wickedly at the invitation. “You’re in for a treat, sweetheart.” Before you could hesitate, he pushed you back onto the bed, knocking the breath out of you slightly at the unexpected force. “However, before we begin, I need you to understand something,” he warned.

You bit your lip from both need and slight affliction. “What’s that?”

“You are at my mercy. There is no backing out, there are no safety words, and there is also a possibility of loss of sanity from the immense pleasure that you are about to experience.”

Already the wetness was building up in your core, just hearing the way he spoke about it ignited something in you - a desperate need that you had to have satiated right then and there.

“Fuck, yes, Betelguese. I get it,” you huffed impatiently, sitting up and reaching for his belt. He chuckled darkly, catching your hands in his and holding them steady, forcing you to look up at him.

“I mean it, babe. I’m willing to fulfill your needs, but it may come with consequences. Do you understand?”

“I understand!” you all but shouted, no longer able to hold back. “I’m beginning to think you’re stalling because you’re all talk and just don’t want to embarrass yourself.”

He raised his eyebrows at your audacity to question his talents before licking his lips slightly and wrapping his hands around the back of your legs, pulling you forcefully closer so that your heat was pressed against his already hardened cock, causing you to groan wantonly.

“I’m gonna fuck you to the brink of death,” he breathed, leaning in so that you could feel the coolness of his breath on your face.

“Prove it,” you challenged, your body already shaking from the anticipation.

The wicked grin returned as his eyes darkened with lust before he huskily stated, “It’s showtime!”

Following his statement, he snapped his fingers, causing your garments to rip from you in shreds and fall to the floor. Ordinarily, you might have been upset, but you were too clouded with lust to care at that point.

Once your ruined clothes were tossed aside, you took a moment to stare at him, eyes drifting lower until you caught sight of his length through his striped pants, which appeared to be thick, hard, and practically weeping pre-cum due to the damp spot near the tip.

He didn’t have to ask to know that you were impressed and eager to feel his huge cock inside of you. A cocky smile crept across his face as you finished inspecting him, imagining all the things that he was going to do to you.

Unable to delay any longer, he gripped the back of your hair harshly, pulling you towards him in a fierce kiss. You savored the surprisingly sweet flavor of him as he plunged his tongue into your mouth, swirling around with precision, exploring every cavern.

You hardly noticed that he had released your hair and lowered his hands to begin exploring your body while he continued to lick inside of you. His hands left a trail of coolness along your warm, flushed skin, making you want to lean into his touch.

When he reached your breasts, he began to knead them tenderly, briefly flicking over your hardened nipples with his thumb. Breaking the kiss, you bit your lip as he mouthed at your jawline, then running his tongue along your throat before taking a moment to nibble at your collarbone. The pain of his bite mixed with the sensation of his skilled hands on your breasts was sending you into overdrive.

It was then that you noticed that an odd, warm feeling was creeping into your lower belly, working its way down toward your lower region. Before you could think too long about it, an intense, inexplicable sensation began to pulsate around your cunt, causing you to choke on your breath, gasping for air as it constricted around you.

Betelgeuse hummed happily against your skin as he relished in your response to his power, kissing and licking his way down from your clavicle to your breasts, pausing to suck harshly on their raised peaks. You writhed beneath him, unable to sit still as his manipulation worked through you, your entire body buzzing with arousal.

Your hands tangled themselves in his thick, green locks, noticing only for a moment how soft his hair was before once again becoming distracted with what he was doing to you.

Eventually, his hands left your breasts and he continued to scoot down until he positioned himself between your legs. He lifted one of them into the air as he tasted your skin, leaving trails of soft pecks and bites down your leg to the inside of your thigh. It was only then that you realized that though his hands were preoccupied with your lower half, your breasts were still being massaged and sucked on, as if he was still there, pleasuring you.

You moaned softly, realizing that he was not bound by the physical plane of your world. Knowing that he could be anywhere and everywhere with you was difficult to fathom, but you had no complaints.

Lowering himself, he parted your legs further and positioned them higher to allow more access to your dripping heat. He placed one finger on the edge of your lips, slowly trailing down toward your hole. You wanted to beg. You wanted to say anything that would encourage him to touch you where you needed him most, but you could barely bring yourself to breathe properly, let alone form words as the pleasure continued to radiate throughout your trembling body.

He took a moment to appreciate you in this state, that familiar smirk adorning his face before darting his tongue out to lick his lips as he observed you. Hoping that your pleading eyes were a sufficient request for him to continue, your hands gripped the sheets as you prepared yourself for what you hoped would come next.

Finally, his finger found your swollen nub as he circled it teasingly. Though he was giving you minimal contact, his digit seemed to vibrate against you, causing pleasure to shoot throughout your lower half.

You threw your head back against the pillow, no longer having the physical capability to hold yourself up. His chuckle distinctly reached your ears as he clearly enjoyed the sight of your loss of control, and he had barely even touched you.

His chilled finger dropped from your clit and prodded slightly at your entrance. No longer able to hold back, he inserted a finger, twisting and crooking his digit in just the right way. “Mmm, babe, you’re so tight,” he cooed, his words barely registering as he continued to explore your insides.

Whines spilled from your mouth as he added a second finger, and then a third, stretching you and causing more lubrication to spill from your core while he pressed his thumb against your bundle of nerves, wriggling vigorously.

It was almost too much. You had never experienced so many wonderful sensations at once in all your life. Every spot that had ever caused you arousal was being stimulated, including places that you hadn’t even discovered, and yet, somehow Betelgeuse knew about them.

Just when you thought that you couldn’t handle any more, he withdrew his fingers before pulling himself out of his pants, using your own essence to wet his throbbing cock. He ran his hand along his length, spreading your natural lubricant. You might have been delirious from the waves of bliss pulsating through you, but you could have sworn that his length and girth had increased in size  since you had started. For a moment, you wondered how he was even going to fit himself inside of you, regardless of the preparation his magical fingers had done.

He seemed to sense your hesitation as he ran the pads of his fingers along your abdomen in a slow, soothing motion.  You adjusted your hips slightly to better prepare yourself for the blunt object that was about to be inserted into your heat. He smiled widely, showing off his teeth with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Grasping his thick appendage, he rubbed the weeping head against your opening, trailing up to grind against your clit, earning another needy groan from deep in your throat.

Even through your heavy, half-lidded eyes, you could see that he too was eager for this to happen. Though he showed remarkable self-control, little things were giving him away, like the way he ran his tongue against his bottom lip, or the way his breath came in small huffs, or the way his fingers trembled when he finally lined himself up again, ready to penetrate you.

Much to your surprise, instead of slowly pushing into you to allow you time to adjust to his girth, he shoved his hips forward, literally knocking the breath out of you as his length became fully sheathed inside of you.

You released a loud cry, partly because you assumed that he had just ripped your vagina in half, and also out of shock due to the fact that there wasn’t a single moment of pain. All you had felt was pleasure as his cock somehow fit perfectly inside of you, stretching you in the best possible way.

“Oh, fuck!” you moaned as he began to pull out, allowing the ridges of his swollen length to hit every crevice inside of you before snapping his hips forward again. You could swear that you could feel his tip hit your cervix as your nails dug into his arms, wanting more of what he was giving you.

“So fucking good,” he rasped as he read your body language, encouraging him to pick up speed, pumping in and out of you at a vigorous pace. The friction was perfect, driving you insane as he hit your g-spot dead on with each thrust.

Before you could even adjust to his blissful actions, the invisible touch returned to your breasts, sucking, stroking and kneading just right. Although his mouth was nowhere near your clit, you felt a chilled, wet tongue glide over your nub, applying just the right amount of pressure, vibrating and circling around it.

“Just like that. Y-yes, right- oh fuck- right there!” You couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Your cries echoed throughout the room as you sobbed with ecstasy, never knowing that any person could feel this way. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, the pulsating pleasurable sensation returned, filtering throughout your entire body.

“Such a good girl,” he praised as he fucked you mercilessly. “Like you were fucking made for me.”

It was a good thing that you were in the position you were. Had you been on top or in any position where you had to use any muscle at all, you would have collapsed by this point. You no longer had any control over your body as it trembled and convulsed with sensations beyond your comprehension.

You could feel yourself starting to unravel, no longer able to contain the pressure building up inside of you, begging for release. “Oh, god! Betelgeuse… please,” you begged, finally able to form words.

His breath came in short gasps as he pummeled inside of you, moving with inhuman speed. Soon, the friction of his thrusts was too much for your body to handle. Before you could even understand what was happening, you were climaxing, experiencing a sensation so euphoric and blissful that you had honestly believed for a moment that you were dead. Your body wracked with your orgasm as you pulsated around his cock in an attempt to milk him dry.

He choked back a moan as you clenched around him, still trying to last a bit longer. “Holy shit,” he groaned. “Babe, you’re killin’ me here.”

You barely registered his movements as he continued to penetrate you, chasing his own orgasm after you were slowly coming down from your own. Not too long after, you felt cold spurts lining your cervix as he emptied himself inside of you, a few whimpers and groans spilling from his lips as he rode out his high on top of you.

Your bones felt like gelatin as you lay there, unable to move as he collapsed on top of you, the weight of him and the chill of his skin oddly comforting. He too was trembling slightly from the aftershock of your actions together, which surprised you. You would have thought that he would have more composure for a dead guy.

“Wow… okay, I was not expecting that,” you breathed between pants. He chuckled at your awestruck response, which rumbled through your own body since he was still on top of you.

He lifted his head up, quirking his eyebrow at you and smirking like he was in on a joke that you didn’t understand. “What?” you asked him suspiciously.

“I just think it’s adorable that you think we’re finished,” he replied, placing his hands on either side of you so that he could lift himself up.

“Care to elaborate?”

He took a moment to sift a hand through his hair, pushing the unkempt strands back before he cocked his head to the side to crack his neck in preparation. “Sit up.”

“Betelgeuse… I can’t-”

“Sit up, and turn around,” he demanded, his wicked smile returning. “I haven’t yet satisfied you to the best of my ability, dollface. I haven’t made you completely unravel with bliss, and I intend to do so. Now.”

You expected your muscles to be sore considering how rough he had taken you and how much stimulation was coursing throughout your body, but you were surprisingly okay. Better than okay. The thought of going again excited you, and the fact that he was able to eradicate any physical limitations that the both of you may have had made you want to keep going.

The demon took you again from behind, and again holding you in his lap while you straddled him. Each new position was somehow better than the last. You had never known ecstasy like this, and you knew that you never would again. He elicited noises and shrieks from you that you hadn’t even known were humanly possible.

Finally, when the both of you were completely spent, your body covered in sweat and cum, you surrendered, unable to handle anymore. Even Betelgeuse seemed to be exhausted, though he hid it well behind his cocky smile.

“Thanks for the wild ride,” he cooed as he left your bed, snapping his fingers to pull the covers over you. “That was as much a treat for me as I’m sure it was for you.”

Barely able to find the strength to speak, you asked, “What will you do now?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find something to pass the time.” He winked at you before leaning in kissing you deeply, making you moan into the kiss as he swallowed your noises.

He released a satisfied hum when he pulled away, walking toward the dark corner of your room. “Should you require my services in the future, you know how to find me.”

“But how will-”

“Sweet dreams, babe.” He gave you one final smirk as he straightened his tie and melted into the darkness, leaving you to what turned out to be the best sleep of your life.

[bookishbea]

Black Friday Reaction

Okay so I’ll be live tweeting Black Friday but none of it will have any sense to it but it’ll just be my reactions

1. The Paul thing is really bothering me

2. I really love the mention of the other characters

3. If Jane is mention is the story about the mom mentioned some more

4. Is the delivery man ted (cause he’s also a sleazeball

5. It’s weird seeing Cory not play a pure bean

6. I love California MIA

7. The little sister (Im sorry I’m bad at names) I self project as autistic and she something else idk

8. Did anyone else noticed Robert’s Australian accent come out?

9. Like I said this is out of order so yeah but I personally think the second song in the show was very shocking as I’m not used to very serious starkid songs

10. When Robert gestures smoking i think its lowkey a refrence to the smoke club

11. I have a crush on lex

12. I love Lauren’s charecter so much

13. I love the name linda becuase it could be like a karen without using that name

14. Not to get poltical but i choose to belive they made an antivax joke

15. Also the marvel nerd in me loves the name becky barnes

16. I know its probaly not on purpose but joeys charecters costume in line looks like the homeless guy’s one

17. Jaimey is great as always

18. The conversation is so cringe i love it

19. I kinda hope torture porn is a fanfic refrence (i know most people would want me to say spies are forever but nope)

20. I love Lauren but shouldnt her accent be included when she sings

21. I love Jeff’s reaction

22. I may get some hate for this but what was bothering me in tgwdlm and i notice in starkid is lack of fan comments in the captions

23. As a theatre fan i love the toy zone song (i am not sure if thats the right name) espcially the do wop becuase it reminds me of older musicals

24. Also since i watched tgwdlm and black friday a day apart its weird to come from songs happening because they are infected to songs happening cause its a musical

25. i love the love the line we are not relaibly to anyone who dies becuase they clearly show in the trailer that someone will die (this is not a spoiler if you watch the trailer for Black Friday)

26. I love Corey but when he dances i notice a bulge (i am not a perv he makes it very obvious)

27. So i rewinded it to make sure i wanst going crazy and realized something as lex says the pepper spray line. She would be good as janis ian

28. I love the touch money part its so cute even if its not supposed to be

29. Jaime plays a perv really well

30. I love Jon’s charecter its hilarious

31. Also i love jon and lauren interactions so it was cool seeing them together not as paul and emma

32. I love seeing more of Jon because although hes reaally good at playing paul paul doesnt have any flavor and its cool seeing jon do something diffrent

33. Jeff’s fuck you

34. Okay I was right it was the homeless guy and i bet the money is paul’s money

35. And this is not a sterotpye as i am jewish myself but i bet Laurens charecter is jewish

36. Its sad that the price thing is true

37. So i am a theatre fan and do not watch got but that music kinda reminds me of got

38. Cant tell if jeff’s charecter is gay and a perv or just a perv (i realzie this could be mmisinterpreted as homophobic i just mean to say that jamie’s charecter just seems like a full out perv where as i cant tell with jeff’s)

39. Obviously you shouldnt be that insane but i do like the lines about how you are in charge of life and dont care about what others think. its goood life advice

39. Looks like Paul’s boss got his wish

40. They are all idiots for holding up the doll when everyone wants to get it

41. Corey’s charecter is like shit, money isnt that imporant

42. Becky why are you a part of this you have moral high ground (yes i am ignorning the fact that cast usually join in dance numbers even if their charecter isnt a part of it)

43. Shouldnt tom get ptsd (see above)

44. Lex you already have one (see above)

45. So i may be overthinking things but how curt says never should settle is in the tune of spies are forever

46. Is it just me or did anyone else notice when the security guard comes in the tune of show me your hands comes in

47. I dont know why but i do love soft bullies because hes like hey im punching you but only for the kid

48. Some may say its schizo or something hannah has but its anxiery or something from how shes expressing it

49. I feel like hannah has a superpower and can tell whats happening

50. Maybe webby is actually wiggly

51. Baby (both hannah and robert)

52. Please tell me my babies not dead

53. Jon’s eee is adorable and silly

54. Wait hes alive

55. Wait no hes dead, im sad liek starkid is supposed to be fun and happy this is the darkest star kid yet. Even oregon deaths were silly

56. I love starkid but this is making me anxious i cant tell if its good anxious or bad anxious

57. Also i relate to the black and white thing not fully but liek whenever i dont feel well sometimes my brain is overstimulating but only in my head its very hard to explain 

58. Also i think sometimes kids on the spectrum and im not an expert but i do have it kind of make a friend in their head and i do that too sometimes just to give me advice

59. Also i hope they dont get rid of the black and white as sometimes people go more crazy without the figurative voice in their head

60. Like i said this is going to be random order so i like that emma adopted paul;s Okay and no im not making a tfios refrence

61. Poor Tim

62. Poor becky but even less

63. i thought they were supposed to be mad at g-d but in this and tgwdlm they like g-d

64. I cant tell the other pins on joey’s jacket but the first two i notice are mr wiggly and paul

65. I love Lauren’s acting you can see the very sublte sadness in her

66. Lauren and Joey together ahhhh

67. I know its probaly not a big deal but they should give a seziure warning before the tv scene

68. Did they reuse curts spies are forever outfit

69. Really starkid the obama refrence seriously, i cant tell if im mad or laughing 

70. How did Bob get one

71. I do realize they are talking irl but i cant help but wonder if the nazis were a spies are forever refrence

72. Does wiggly have a special power or something 

73. I think its similar to the metero the closer you are the more power it has over you

74. The starkid special effects we all know and love

75. Also is that mcnamara

76. Also maybe shooting it (the doll) does the same thing that shooting the affceted does. Give them no power

77. I cant tell what the music reminds me of exactly but the tune does kinda refrence a diffrent star kid song

78. Jeff looks so proud of himself for the peeps line

79. I love the purposeful i presume reuse of lines

80. Is peip like men in black

81. Also hatchetfield kind of reminds me of night vale

82. Is the black and white like the upside down?

83. I wonder if the point was purposeful since someone was filming or just choreographed

84. Yes Jon Singing!!!!!

85. I love the act two opener

86. Did his parents really name him christmas?!?

87. Oh hes literally related to santa

88. I love lauren and joey as eleves

89. Noel another christmas name

90. Isnt the little dance move like a genie move or something

91. Its so cute that she insitincitvely went to their seats

92. Also carving is goals

93. Even though its a penis its still goals

94. I know what you are, say it, santa clause

95. Tom dont yell at your girl

96. Poor Tom

97. But also dont make this about you

98. They probaly werent the head of the school since they were nice, i am sorry but thats true

99. Yass girl fight his ass

100. Also the theatre kid in me is picturing all that jazz

101. he ran into my knife he ran into my knife ten times

102. Yes Becky’s husband (i forget the name sue me) is bad but i feel like becky is more sinister then we realize

103. Becky’s line even if it isnt meant to be is so funny

104. The girl who plays Becky could play Barbara

105. I love how Joey and Lauren look into the camera

106. Jamie saying santa awww such a pure bean

107. The person in the wiggly onsie is goals

108. Matrix glasses for the win

109. Is wilbur a refrence to Charelots Web?

110. Its a cult a cult of wiggly

111. I feel like Sherman young is around 30-40

112. I love how its mommy to sound less pervy

113. Oh wait never mind Linda is mom

114. Shit thats fucked up they killed him

115. I am right a jew no non jew says mensch

116. To quote jared klienman kinky (shoe kiss scene)

117. Also i love this song the adore song

118. Why does them picking up Lauren give me Draco vibes

119. Wait he isnt dead?? im so confused

120. Wait he is dead???

121. Also ethan is creepy now

122. But Roberts expressions are goals

123. Robert your proffesor hidgens is showing

124. What the how does he know her name

125. Savage Wiggly

126. Wiggly is more funny than scary

127. But my poor baby dont be scared

128. What the fuck tom

129. Also poor baby number two

130. At first you think becky is made about him hurting a child but no its about the doll

131. What the fuck Becky

132. Also I wonder if thats the same serum that Hidgens used

133. Tom yelling at the audince is hilarious

134. Also Becky singing is giving me little shop vibes

135. Becky are you drunk or something you so stupid

136. But yayy my baby doesnt get hurt

137. More starkid special effects

138. Also the lighting nod to tgwdlm

139. Also why did they take my baby (see i told you random)

140. So the perv is wiggly

141. Also if he can appear in regular formation on earth why does he need to be the doll

142. Oh wait never mind he explains it

143. Joey talking to the audience and making them hold the apple is goals

144. I love Joey’s song

145. MIA = Missing in Action = Made in America

146. Wait im wrong Joey cant be Wiggly unless he has super powers he cant be in two places at once

147. I know they dont mean sex but still wtf

148. Lauren looks so done i cant

149. Seziure warning after mr presidnet leaves the black and white

150. Unless it was purposeful they should have hidden the dolls better backstage

151. Wait didnt hannah say something about two doors earlier?

152. Seriously Sherman ponies

153. I love the going back line

154. My poor baby lex

155. No Lex dont die not you too

156. Haha throwback to tgwdlm

157. Yes baby you got the gun

158. Also die perv die

159. Eagle screeching is goals

160. Yes lex use that logic

161. Also it makes sense only the adults can be brainwashed

162. There were only adults no children, scary (not sarcastic i promise)

163. Seriously starkid Fortnight

164. Thats why you should never fully grow up

165. Woah what Lex says is deep

166. Yessss Tom

167. Wait Tom dont hold the gun

168. Wait is Charolette alive or just a reuse of costume, if so why would they have jaimie wear it

169. No dont take her magic hat

170. Haha stupid hats cant be magic only dolls obviously

171. Does lauren say something like fucking knife in another show too?

172. Lauren screaming gives me my father will hear about this vibes

173. Also give my baby her hat back

174. Yass Lauren get it girl (i do realize shes playing the villian but still)

175. Yass Robert get it

176. Even though shes a viilain i dont like seeing Lauren get killed

177. But also how did they get the bullet wound on her so quick im impressed

178. Haha the way Gary stops everything to talk to gerald is goals

179. Like hes like oh shit money

180. And then hes like oh wait i have to pretend to care

181. I love how exagerated their dying is

182. Thats an impressive quick change

183. Yess Emma Hidgens

184. But also no hell fuck up again

185. Also Paul interupting is goals

186. Haha hannah you go girl

187. First off I love the song

188. Song off Hannah’s voice

189. Is paul scared normal or because of the hive

190. Wait all the tgwdlm charecters are back like nothing happened im confused

191. Haha the Hatchfield band is back

[satoruvt]

black swan

i wrote a short story for my english class and i felt really proud of it so i’m gonna post it here :-) hope yall like it, i do very much

word count → 2179

summary → “Because you are a sinner,” he spits at me. The ground is suddenly hot with anger and when I look down at my feet I see scorched earth. “And sinners go to Hell.”

warnings → lots of talk about religion, pg-13 ish at the beginning? lol, bro idk shit gets intense

“Go,” Leo tells me. I try to move closer to him, smile playing on my lips as they try to connect with his again, but he pushes me gently. I thread my fingers through his hair, letting the color burn in my mind. I hope it stays like that forever. I can recognize his golden hair anywhere. “Eden, you must leave. Your curfew is almost upon us.”

I huff, feigning annoyance at his denial, as I take my pocket watch out of my coat. As much as I want to stay, Leo’s right - it is almost time for me to depart, and if I’m not home when Mother does her nightly rounds I’ll have chores for the next fortnight. Leo pushes his fingers into my short hair, straightening it back to what it resembled before our encounter. I can’t help but stare at him as he does, and once he catches me he grins, savage and bright.

“Go, my love,” he tells me, taking my hand and placing a kiss to my knuckles. I part with a flushed smile, turning around to my own home. I don’t have to hurry if I don’t wish to; my home is only a few houses down from Leo’s, but I do so anyways, not willing to risk the chance of Mother finding my room empty.

It doesn’t take long for me to get home, nor does it take very long for me to open my room’s only window and haul myself inside, closing it gently behind me. Right as the window clicks shut, a knock on my door resounds, startling me. I grab the nearest thing - a pencil, and, then, an already-drawn-on paper - and pretend that I’ve been in my room for the last hour, drawing away. 

“Eden,” my mother’s voice calls from outside the door. “May I come in?”

Before I have a chance to answer, she’s opening the door and moving into the room gracefully. I barely hear her footsteps as she adjusts to close the door behind her and then move across the room to my bed, sitting on the edge. Mother sends me a specific glance and I put down my props before sitting next to her.

“Has something happened?” I ask.

“Oh, yes,” Mother responds, and her fingers clench into fists on her lap. “Dear Eden, something has happened. Something to do with you.”

I feel my heart sink to my toes, swirl through my bloodstream as if caught in a current. I try not to let my panic show, instead clearing my throat and looking at my mother. “What is it?”

Mother sighs, and when she looks me in the eyes I know that we both know what she could possibly be referencing. “You’re friends with the Wilson’s son down the street, yes?”

Leo.

I nod.

“And you are… just friends with this boy?”

My heart lurches from my feet to my throat and I choke on my own breath, staring at my mother wide-eyed. There’s no way that she knows, right? It can’t be, no. I try to cover up my surprise but it seems I hold it too long, for it’s enough for Mother to let out a broken wail as she falls onto me.

“Oh, my son,” she cries into me. I feel my own tears well to my eyes at the knowledge that she is crying. “What have you done?”

Her words hurt me, an arrow straight into my chest. “Nothing, mama,” I murmur over her quieting sobs. “I’m still me. I’m still your son. Please, mama.”

Mother sits up and tears fall down her cheeks like gentle streams. She doesn’t look hateful, like most - if not everyone - would. Her palm cups my face and I sigh, leaning into her touch.

“I know you are,” she whispers. “I know, and I love you.”

It’s now that I feel my own tears slip down my face - never had I intended to tell her; I only imagined that one day I would leave and live in a place where I could find others like me, and keep up this facade when I came home for visits. I was content with the idea, but this seems so much better. I lean forward and hug Mother, holding her tight in my arms, and she reciprocates my embrace immediately.

“You know that I am no liar,” she tells me when she pulls away. Her hands still rest at my elbows. “And I cannot lie to your father about this.”

My response is immediate. My father is not as forgiving as my mother, and if what she says is true (it always tends to be) then I have no hope to be accepted in my own home. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully. “The best option is for you to not be here when I tell him.”

“And when is that?”

“Tonight, I assume. When he gets home in an hour.”

An hour is not much time. I don’t ask her how long I should be gone, because both of us know the answer. We sit in silence for another moment before I speak again, my hands still gripping her fingers like I did when I was a child. “I suppose I should pack my things.”

Mother nods, but doesn’t let go of my hands until I move away to reach my pack. It isn’t large, but it should be enough to carry a few articles of clothing and a small amount of food. I get packed quickly, and my mother still sits on my bed. We walk to the door in silence, and it’s when she opens it for me that we speak.

“I love you, my son,” she tells me wistfully. “And I am so sorry.”

I know she is, but I tell her it’s alright. I’m not angry at her, nor my father, nor anyone except for myself. I see my father’s horse come into view, him on top of it, and slink into the night, running towards the forest nearby in the dark. In retrospect, I know it isn’t the best decision, but I have nowhere else to go. I don’t stop to say good-bye to Leo, and I don’t stop running until I am deep in the forest. I find a sturdy tree trunk under large bushes, sit down, and sleep restlessly through the night.

When I wake, there is a man standing over me.

He doesn’t flinch when I wake up, opening my eyes to stare at him. He stares back, unphased, and when I move, he moves. He seems fascinated with me. I sit up straight and he takes a few steps back. His hair is dark, and so are his eyes. His skin is beautifully golden, and his face seems like one that never ages. Neither of us speak for a moment until I do.

“What do you want?”

The man smiles and I feel my body tense. It is not a good smile - joyous as a smile could be, but there’s more to it. Something cruel. Something sinister. “Nothing big,” he replies, and I pull my bag out from behind me, confused as to why he hadn’t just taken my things before I woke up. How long had he been looking at me?

“I only have a small sum of food,” I say, taking said items out of my bag, then my spare clothing. “And clothes.”

“Oh, I don’t want any of that,” the man says. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to rob you of your belongings.”

“I see,” my breath rises up in the cold morning air. “Then might I ask who you are and what you do want?”

The man smiles again, but this time it’s worse; wider. He’s a few feet in front of me, and I still see his sharp canines. “We’re going to be the best of friends, you and I,” he tells me. I don’t believe him. “Please, call me Shen, young one. I understand your name is Eden? Yes. ‘Eden and Shen’ - doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

The man - Shen, now - offers his hand towards me to help me up. I gaze at it unsteadily, and for the first time I see him falter. I ask instead, “how do you know my name?”

“It’s a long story,” he answers automatically. “Take a walk with me. I’ll tell you.”

“No… I’ll stay right here,” I say. My blood starts to pump as I make up a lie. “Actually, I have a friend coming to meet me. He should be here soon.”

Shen chuckles. It sends shivers down my spine. “No one is coming for you.”

I could easily have denied it, said that he was wrong - it is my word against his - but I was blessed with my mother’s inability to lie well, and I don’t try to cover up my mistake. Shen, however, seems impatient now. I’m stalling and he knows that I am, but I don’t know for what. No one is coming back, and if I ran back home I know my family would close the door in my face.

“I say we make the long story short.” Shen says. He looks different, but I don’t know how. He’s darker, almost, like the aura surrounding him has fallen into something hellish. “I’m getting impatient, and I am here for one thing, and I will get it through all necessary means. I need your soul.”

His words shock me, and for a moment I think he’s crazy. Completely and utterly insane, someone who thinks he can take mortal souls, but when I let out a humorless laugh, he shows no sign of playing along. He is serious. 

“Why do you need my soul?” I ask. I don’t believe that he’s truthful, but there’s something wrong. I hesitate.

“Because you are a sinner,” he spits at me. The ground is suddenly hot with anger and when I look down at my feet I see scorched earth. “And sinners go to Hell.”

I’m still reeling with the sight in front of me, of red skies and burned trees and charred animals all around me. It smells like heavy smoke and it burns my lungs. The black trees warp around me in a cage, moving like cruel, clawed fingers, and this is too real. Shen must be a witch. His eyes are red, now, when I look at them, and I realize he is not human.

“You ruined yourself with lies and men,” Shen starts to speak. I dodge the trees aiming for me, scrambling to my feet like a scared cat, and as he speaks the earth itself starts to move, shaking under my unsteady legs. “My dear Eden, you were born to be like me, like our Dark Lord.”

“No,” I counter weakly. My voice is barely heard over the rumbling of the ground as it splits in half. “No, I am pure, I am no sinner -”

“How ironic that your name comes from blessed lands yet you yourself are no more than another liar amongst pure men.” Shen’s voice is demonic and wild, and I can’t think of anything to do but cover my ears. It does nothing to stop the sound of his voice from leaking into my head. I feel like I am boiling from the inside out. I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong! “I can’t wait to see you rot.”

Before I properly know what I’m doing, I’m grabbing the biggest rock I can carry and running towards Shen with a battle cry on my lips. My heart is restless, but it stops when I see him grin - in the second before the rock meets his head, he looks so cruel, yet so familiar. The same dark hair, but his face is more boyish. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t have time to think before I throw the rock onto his skull with all the strength I can muster.

I blink and the land returns to normal.

It’s green again, covered in lush forestry and a silent mist. My heart is still pounding, but I no longer feel hot. Everything is as it was; did I hallucinate the entire ordeal? I’ve been out in the forest for too long, even if it’s only been one night. The repetitiveness of the trees makes my head ache with the need to leave. I calm my breathing, then turn in my spot to find my pack.

When I turn, there’s something laying on the ground, beneath the foliage. The leaves around it are stained red with blood. I see a hand, then a full arm. There’s a body. 

I move closer, thoroughly concerned, and then I see a rock - the rock I had thrown - off a few feet. Panic shoots through me at the idea that I hurt someone in my crazed frenzy, and then I take a closer look at the face of the man I hurt.

I could recognize his golden hair anywhere.

[the-family-fortune]

So last night I asked my server for suggestions on the Galochio fic I’m working on. They were very helpful.

DaisyYesterday at 11:38 PM

how do u get rid of the main villain of a story............ without actually getting rid of them in any effective way?? like i dont want to be "and then he walked away and was never a problem again" because. thats dumb. but i need something to that effect.

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:38 PM

u could kill him off

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:40 PM

I need a little bit more information regarding plot before I can be of any help I think

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:42 PM

distract him with something else entirely?

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:42 PM

family emergency

turtleYesterday at 11:42 PM

Had a doctor’s appointment

SJ || gay theatre kidYesterday at 11:42 PM

eat him

sorry

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:42 PM

he gets sick and has to take a break

turtleYesterday at 11:42 PM

His magic fucked up and went to another dimension

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:43 PM

job pulls him to the complete opposite side of the world

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:43 PM

he took a cruise

turtleYesterday at 11:43 PM

He wanted a vacation

SJ || gay theatre kidYesterday at 11:43 PM

send him to brazil

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:43 PM

got a new phone and lost the protag's cell number

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:43 PM

he broke his teeth and needs to get that shit fixed cuz goddamn

DaisyYesterday at 11:44 PM

im SO glad i didnt give enough context in the first one these are all SUPERB. i did think abt killing him off in the final confrontation but i really dont want this 9 year old murdering her grandpa gjkfds. it COULD be an accident because his powers are big and unstable. 

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:44 PM

mild heart attack puts him out of commission for a while

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:44 PM

goes to antarctica

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:44 PM

coma

DaisyYesterday at 11:44 PM

FUCK

GOES TO ANTARCTICA WINS. I HATE THAT, THANK YOU.

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

electrocution fucks up

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

fjsjfjjs

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

he gets killed

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

but he gets better

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

no?

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:45 PM

maybe the electrocution backfires and makes him bedridden for the rest of his life

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:45 PM

yeah

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

if he wants

DaisyYesterday at 11:45 PM

he gets killed, but he gets better.........

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:45 PM

it happens

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:45 PM

"better" means "more haunted"

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:46 PM

thank you

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:46 PM

ye I gotchu

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:46 PM

grandpa piss ghost

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:46 PM

send him to the moon

DaisyYesterday at 11:46 PM

he IS Like. ancient. he's ALREADY missing one leg. it would not take much to put him out of commission, but also he's a cockroach.

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:47 PM

dont send him to the moon....

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:47 PM

honestly the first thing that came to mind was despicable me

when they sent fucking vector to the moon

DaisyYesterday at 11:47 PM

portal 2 for me

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:47 PM

moons getting crowded

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:47 PM

how many antagonists have gotten stuck on the moon? holy shit?

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:48 PM

Usagi the moon bunny has a prison for antagonists

SmolMuffinYesterday at 11:48 PM

Alright gonna write a massive crossover of villains on the moon/j

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:48 PM

maybe just... make him cry and have a breakdown or something idk

he cant do shit if he's in bed all day like me

SmolMuffinYesterday at 11:49 PM

Also for a idea im not too sure

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:49 PM

he can cry on moontarctica

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:49 PM

Daisy if this is your psy oc I think you can get pretty absurd with it

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:49 PM

the moon: now with snow

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:49 PM

cold moon.....

that's how they keep the cheese fresh

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:50 PM

maybe just smack him with a newspaper

or pour concrete on him just leave his head above the surface or smth

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:50 PM

y'all are on the moon, meanwhile I've got him forever bedridden like Charlie Bucket's grandparents

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:50 PM

mood

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:51 PM

except grandpa Joe I mean

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:51 PM

dude what if like some sort of freak accident happens that just fucking snipes him and makes him useless

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:51 PM

that bed? It's on the moon now

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:51 PM

oh to be an old lady and sleep on the moon...

DaisyYesterday at 11:51 PM

it is the psy OC!!! her grandpa SUCKS and he's genuinely the worst person ive ever written and he wont!! DIE!!!

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:52 PM

oh.... oh my god..... to be Wallace from the Wallace and gromit go to the moon and have cheese and crackers.

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:52 PM

ghagfdka;gh

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:53 PM

maybe you can send him on a wild goose chase

for forever

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:53 PM

daisy heres what you do ok. you uhhhhh wait for him to die of old age naturally and see what his will says in an exciting will-reading scene

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:53 PM

just continuously give him red herrings

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:53 PM

imagine I put quotes around exciting

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:53 PM

give this man a macguffin, slap him on the back and say "go get em"

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:53 PM

red herrings? Why not a very fun destination???

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:54 PM

dude sell his soul to whatever sort of dark power there is for a single corn chip

bonk him on the head so hard he becomes a toddler again

uhhh

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:54 PM

what's that app that sends you on adventures based on what you wanna find?

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:54 PM

geocache?

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:54 PM

bonk him on the head in general

aye i've done those before those are fun

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:55 PM

Pokemon go??

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:55 PM

not geocache but close

hang on I saw a vid of it recently

Randonautica

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:55 PM

I mean... if you just have them be fidgety about it for a while... there doesn’t necessarily need to be an explanation now that I think about it

A lot of things could happen to him once he’s out of their sight that they might not end up hearing about

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:56 PM

send him to the mariana trench

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:56 PM

he steps away and gets hit by a bus a la Mean Girls

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:56 PM

all of the above

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:57 PM

theres a bus in  the mariana trench?

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:57 PM

theres about to be

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:57 PM

Pfft... he starts to walk away and quartermaster shows up, hitting him with the bus, and just turns to the kids and goes “bus is here”

DaisyYesterday at 11:57 PM

the most ambitious crossover of all time....

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:57 PM

snipe him so fucking hard that theres a crossover

dude just take his knees

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:57 PM

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:57 PM

like just take them off

un-velcro his knees

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

FUCK

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:58 PM

GOD

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:58 PM

bus in the trench

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

THERES THE FUCKING BUS

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:58 PM

DAMMIT

BUS IN THE TRENCH

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

TRENCHBUS GOTTEM

DaisyYesterday at 11:58 PM

well "bus in the mariana trench'' has clearly already been done >:T

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:58 PM

damn yeah

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:58 PM

make it a mack truck

DaisyYesterday at 11:58 PM

nothings original these days

Lays || trenchbus driverYesterday at 11:59 PM

original trench vehicle do not steal

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaYesterday at 11:59 PM

give him a "mid-life" crisis and make him go soul searching or something

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Yesterday at 11:59 PM

exactly! you can use mariana trench bus

Sabrina || chasergirlYesterday at 11:59 PM

Ok, but back to serious answers: they could possibly read in the newspaper about him being arrested for something seemingly unrelated but that they and the readers may be able to connect the dots to some sinister thing he was attempting to do to them somehow?

Theo || teddy assigned mormonYesterday at 11:59 PM

he gets sniped byh miss frizzle eastAugust 17, 2020

DaisyToday at 12:00 AM

OH WAIT FUCK UR RIGHT

THE WHOLE 

yall.

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:00 AM

let him realize that the most important lesson here is friendship

DaisyToday at 12:00 AM

im so fucking stupid

the WHOLE STORY. IS ABOUT HOW HES BEING INVESTIGATED BY THE PSYCHIC FBI

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:00 AM

friendship saves the day....

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaToday at 12:00 AM

theres only one braincell in this server its okay we're all just taking turns with it

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:00 AM

GHHGHAHG;GHRR

Sabrina || chasergirlToday at 12:00 AM

LMFAO

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:00 AM

THEY GOTTEM

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:01 AM

FBI stands for Friendship Bureau of Investigation

DaisyToday at 12:01 AM

i was SO FOCUSED ON THE END SCENE I FORGOT IT WAS CONNECTED TO A STORY........

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:01 AM

LAYS IS THE TRENCHBUS DRIVER

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:01 AM

uwu

Sabrina || chasergirlToday at 12:01 AM

“How do I eliminate this character being pursued by the fbi?” “My first option is to have him be murdered by children but I’d prefer not to have to resort to that”

I love it

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:01 AM

ngfdk;sgkfag;f

we all out here trying to play cabin in the woods with this old man

DaisyToday at 12:02 AM

never once did i claim to be clever

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:02 AM

and he would've gotten away with it too if it wasnt for this meddling government agency

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:03 AM

thus ends the saga of grandpa piss

DaisyToday at 12:03 AM

i am going to CRY this has been an adventure holy SHIT

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:04 AM

he sure did go a lot of places

spry old fucker

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:04 AM

I wonder how many trench buses he had to wait for

DaisyToday at 12:04 AM

you'd think at like 89 with one good leg he wouldn't get around as much but here we are

Laamb || campkeeper 👻Today at 12:05 AM

he was probably rolling around in that bed 8T

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:05 AM

you can go anywhere with a bus pass and a sense of adventure

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaToday at 12:05 AM

can we make that zero good legs? i have a nice crowbar right here i can use

DaisyToday at 12:05 AM

BE MY GUEST

Blaze || not-quite-cocoaToday at 12:05 AM

im gonna put this man in a walmart scooter

kiss your knees goodbye

Lays || trenchbus driverToday at 12:06 AM

(dont stop tho he has more trenchbuses to get hit by)

Theo || teddy assigned mormonToday at 12:08 AM