#if anyone wants some good horror g/t content just watch a few of these

[clumsiestgiantess]

Still thinking about Twilight Zone g/t because there were some banger episodes that gave me brainrot. Here’s a few that I know about:

My favorite has to be ‘Stopover in a Quiet Town’, where a young couple wakes up in a strange house after spending the night drunk. They go to thank the owner for letting them crash there, but there’s no one home. There’s no one in the town. The only ‘person’ they find is made of plastic, and the train out of town only has one stop: the town. The suspense that keeps building as the couple find more and more pieces of the world are fake, paired with lighthearted laughter from someone neither the characters or the audience can see — I had my suspicions, but the plot twist still managed to catch me off guard with the last few sentences.

Then there’s ‘Five Characters in Search of an Exit’. The situation alone is enough for you to start feeling for these guys. Five people with seemingly random professions are trapped in a giant container with no way out and no memories of who they were prior to being in the container. Slowly people disappear and are replaced with new ones, but no one ever comes back. After a whole lot of depression, the characters all come together to lift the newest member onto the edge of the giant container. He gasps, the others have to see this! It’s- Then he falls. Moments later, he’s back in the container again. Why? What’s out there that won’t let them go?

My final for the top three is ‘The Little People’. This one’s pretty obviously g/t by the name. Astronauts crash land on a strange planet, they have to try and fix the ship to go home but they’re stranded, etc. Normal sci-fi stuff. But one crewmate wanders off and finds an incredibly small civilization. At first the relationship is mutual. The tinies help him get enough food and water to survive, but the crewmate who found them begins to let the powder go to his head. He can do whatever he wants to this civilization; no one can stop him except the others his size, so he’ll just keep it a secret.

The two I mentioned in this are ‘The Fear’ and ‘The Invaders’.

Other honorable mentions include ‘Four O’ Clock’ & ‘Miniature’.

Technically this isn’t from the Twilight Zone, but it’s an old horror movie called Attack of the Puppet People that’s basically one long TZ episode. A few innocent people end up captured and shrunk, forced to play the act of obedient dolls by the madman who shrunk them. The situation seems rather dire, but the gang keep trying to escape regardless. The ray that can grow them back is just across the room, surely they can make it out.

[obwjam]

A Small World (Luke Skywalker x borrower!reader)

a/n: hm so nobody asked for this but here it is anyway! i’ve had this idea forever now where luke finds himself shrunk on a foreign planet and needs to get back to han and leia and he just happens makes a new friend along the way cause that’s what luke does best. and this is my first real piece of star wars g/t content!! i hope you enjoy :-)

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Luke Skywalker was always getting himself into trouble. It was only natural, now that he was freely running around with the likes of Han and Leia after having blown up multiple giant death machines. He was grateful that his Jedi training had prepared him to deal with anything.

Well, almost anything.

Han told him to steer clear of this guy. There were plenty of other merchants on this planet who could give Luke the information he wanted. But Luke was stubborn that way. He was pretty sure that his plan was the only plan to stick to.

But Han was right. This guy was bad news. And when Luke made him mad, he waved his webbed hands spat some mean-spirited words that Luke didn’t understand at the time. He was on his way back to the Falcon when his head started to hurt and a buzzing filled his ears. He staggered off into an empty alley with his hands grasping clumps of his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut. It felt like his body was being ripped apart at the seams.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Luke opened his eyes and groaned. What happened? And why was it so dark out now?

He took a shaky step forward and nearly tripped over a rock. Wait. A rock? There were no rocks here. It was all sand. He took a few more steps before realizing something was severely off.

That’s when he looked up. The buildings towered above him like skyscrapers.

He was four inches tall.

Luke’s hand flung to his waist. Good. His lightsaber was still there. 

“I’ve gotta get to the Falcon before Han and Leia get too worried!” Luke said to himself. He didn’t know how far he’d need to walk, but it couldn’t be too far, right?

Wrong.

Almost 15 minutes had passed and Luke was still in the alley. It felt like he had barely moved. He was beginning to get frustrated.

“How am I supposed to--” he started, but the sound of a low, menacing growl cut him off.

He turned around. A creature that was normally the size of a mouse was now towering over him, ready to turn him into dinner.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Luke grumbled, grabbing his lightsaber and preparing to fight.

He wouldn’t have to fight for long. 

You were getting ready to find tonight’s dinner when you saw something almost inconceivable -- another borrower. Except he wasn’t dressed at all like a borrower. He was much too clean. You hadn’t seen any other borrowers in over a decade. Being in this place was a death trap with so many people around, but you had grown used to it. The thrill of sneaking around was quite empowering. But the people who came and went from this market were the scum of any planet. Bounty hunters; mercenaries; people who just wanted to cause trouble for fun. It took a lot of skill to avoid being seen for this long, and you had grown territorial over the space you had carved out as your own. This new person -- borrower, shapeshifter, whatever he was -- was a threat. And you weren’t going to let him feel like this place was his.

In the blink of an eye, you jumped out from the shadows wielding two weapons of your own. With theatrics that could rival a Jedi, you jumped and spun and twirled your weapons with the exact precision needed to drive the creature away. You had fought this thing hundreds of times. 

Luke stared at you in awe. It took him a moment to get over his admiration of your fighting skills to realize he had just been saved by another tiny person. Luke stared at the creature running away before turning around to give you his thanks. He was met with a sword inches from his face.

“Who are you?” you snarled.

Luke, surprised but not interested in sparring anyone, held his hands up. “We don’t have to fight.”

“Answer me!” you cried, trying to hide how your voice shook. Whoever this boy was, you were certain he was trouble.

“I’m Luke Skywalker,” he answered calmly. 

You blinked. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble--”

“--too late,” you cut him off. “You already have. Now what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“I — I don’t know,” he stammered. “I have no idea what happened — I don’t know why — I just want to get back to my friends.” There was a franticness to his voice. Your expression fell. “I don’t know what’s happened to me, but I know my friends can help me fix it.” He paused. “Maybe they can help you too.”

You cocked your head. “Help me? I don’t need any help.”

“But… you’re tiny! Just like me! Don’t you want to get back to normal?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. By this point, you had lowered your sword. “Is this not… are you…” 

Your mind was spinning trying to come up with an explanation for what you were thinking. It didn’t seem possible.

You took a tentative breath. “You’re… definitely not a borrower, are you?” 

Luke raised his eyebrow. “A borrower? I don’t even know what that is. All I know is that the merchant at the pottery stand -- he did this to me, I just know it. He didn’t do this to you too?”

You cautiously shook your head. Luke’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

“Wow,” he breathed, rubbing his chin. “So you’re just a regular tiny person, then.”

You didn’t know what to say, much less what to do with this Luke guy. It was so obvious now he was human — the small, round ears were a dead giveaway that you didn’t notice before. It was bad enough to be discovered by a giant -- if you could even call him that right now -- and even worse to engage in conversation with one. He certainly wasn’t going to leave you alone now. 

“Listen, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I would really just appreciate some help navigating this place. My friends are waiting for me at the docking port. Do you know the quickest way to get there?”

You hesitated to answer. Why should you help this guy? What was in it for you? You had no idea how he got shrunk in the first place, and you were certain his friends wouldn’t know either. 

But there was no getting rid of this guy. He just kept staring at you with those bright, lost eyes of his, waiting for an answer. 

“Alright,” you said finally. He perked up. “I’ll help you. On two conditions.” Luke nodded eagerly. “Condition one. You don’t ask me any questions. Condition two. When we get to the port, you forget you ever saw me.”

You didn’t wait for his response before taking off in the other direction. Luke blinked, trying to process what you had just thrown at him, before taking off after you. 

“Do you have a name?” he asked immediately.

You shot him a look. “That’s a question.”

“Oh. Right.” He glanced around, trying to think of a way to make conversation without asking one of the millions of questions he had. 

“Thanks for saving me back there,” he finally said. 

You shrugged. 

“The way you moved was pretty impressive.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You rolled your eyes. 

“Can’t survive without knowing how to fight.” 

“Have you ever tried taming that beast? Maybe you could use it to your advantage.”

You groaned. “Unless I’m speaking another language here, in which case please let me know, but I believe I said not even a minute ago to not ask me any questions.”

Luke didn’t respond. I’ll get through to them soon.

You marched on begrudgingly, annoyed that this Luke guy decided he wasn’t going to listen to your request. Typical giant behavior. But you rationalized taking this trip because the port was a gold mine for supplies, and you rarely took the time to go there.

“Everything really looks different from down here,” Luke said after a few minutes of silence. “You notice things that you never would before.”

“Hm.” 

“These trash cans look like full-size buildings. And boy, it really takes a long time to make it from one place to the other.”

“This is nothing,” you scoffed. 

“Is it usually this dark?”

“Dark?” you replied. 

“Yeah. It almost feels like night time down here.”

“You have some pretty bad eyes, then.”

“What about--”

“Shush,” you snapped, holding your arm out to stop him in his tracks. You pushed him with a surprising amount of strength into the darkness against a wall.

Luke looked up in a mix of wonderment and horror at a group of people walking through the alley. The crunch of the sand beneath their steps sounded like boulders being crushed to rubble. Watching their shadows pass overhead was like witnessing a solar eclipse. They seemed to move in slow motion, but in the blink of an eye they were far beyond the spot where you and him were hiding.

You stole a glance at Luke’s face. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes seemed to shake in fright. His hand was twitching right above the weapon pinned to his belt.

Once the giants were far enough away, you gave him a nudge. “Let’s keep moving.”

Luke said nothing and kept his eyes trained to the ground as you finally made your way out of the alley and into the open market. 

“Okay, the port is this way,” you pointed. “Stay close to the walls and look for something we could jump on to get us there faster.”

“Jump on?”

“Yeah. Droids are usually a good bet, especially the pit droids. They’re always too stupid to realize I’m there.” 

Luke pursed his lips. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Won’t someone see us?”

“How often do you look at the feet of droids for tiny people?” you asked mockingly. “Come on.”

Luke stayed extra cautious, sometimes ducking behind you when he thought someone was looking in your direction. But you’ve done this countless times. You knew the exact spots to fade into and the right route to take. 

“How often do you do this?” Luke asked, almost reading your mind. 

“That’s a question,” you reminded him. 

“Oh. I forgot about that,” he said all-too-innocently. “So I really can’t ask you anything?”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “You really don’t like to listen, do you?”

Luke shrugged. “I guess I got it from my father.”

You sighed, but perked up upon seeing a pit droid limping its way toward you. 

“Perfect. Okay, I need you to follow my lead on this. We’re going to hitch a ride on that pit droid. It’s coming from the scrap heap, so it’s on its way back to the port. You just need to jump and grab onto anything to keep you stable.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Luke said, eyes trained on the droid as it hobbled your way. He pretended not to focus on the fact that this was a three-foot-tall pit droid as it approached like at AT-AT. Once it was in range, he leaped up and easily grabbed onto a few loose wires. He was surprised to see you practically right next to him, both clinging to the wires for dear life as you got your footing.

“Nice jump,” Luke smiled.

“Could say the same for you,” you said. “You look like you’ve done this before.”

Luke was too enthralled by his surroundings to respond to that. “This is -- woah -- this is incredible,” he breathed. His words bounced up and down to the rhythm of the droid’s steps as he gawked up at the merchant stands and the hundreds of people scuttling by.

You scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be used to this?”

“No… it’s not like this.” 

You couldn’t believe the way he seemed to glow as he took in his new view. Though you joked about it, this was a life-or-death ride you were taking. And he was treating it like a carnival ride. It was… endearing, somehow, that his sense of wonder seemed to overpower his fear.

From there, it didn’t take long to reach the port. When the droid turned a corner, you motioned to Luke to jump off. Making a smooth landing, you ran over to the nearest object to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe nobody saw us,” Luke remarked, staring up at the giant ships surrounding him.

“Told ya,” you said, a hint of amusement to your voice. “Do you see your ship?”

“Not… yet…” Luke was straining his neck. He honestly couldn’t tell what any of these ships looked like.

“What does it look like?” you asked on cue. 

“It’s, well, it’s two convex saucers welded together, a pair of front-facing mandibles and an outrigger-style, side-mounted cockpit with transparisteel viewports.”

You blinked.

“It’s a circle,” Luke laughed. “A big, flat circle. With some pointy ends.”

“Oh,” you nodded, definitely getting a clearer picture. “Well, why don’t we just keep walking and see what we find.”

“You’ve never been on a ship before, have you?”

“Why in the galaxy would I ever go on a ship?” you replied in bemusement.

Luke shrugged. “I’m a pilot, you know. That was my only dream. I grew up on this farm, see, on Tatooine. Do you know where that is?”

You shook your head.

“It’s a big desert planet. A giant hunk of sand and rock, kinda like this place. I wanted nothing more than to leave.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You laughed. “I suppose you are.” A pause. “Is this your ship we’re going to?”

“No, it’s my friend’s.”

“Right. Your friends. They’re… here with you.”

“That’s right.”

You bit your lip. “Once we get close to the ship, you can make it on your own from there.”

“What?” Luke stopped walking to turn to you. “You don’t want to meet them?”

“Meet them -- are you kidding? Why would I want to meet giants?”

“They would never hurt you. They’re the kindest people I know.”

You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter. This,” you gestured at him, “this is your problem. I’ve taken you this far, which is way farther than you would have ever gotten on your own. I think I’ve helped enough.”

“Wait!” Luke cried, almost desperately. “You have to let us help you. You live alone in this awful place! It’s not safe.”

“I’ve been fine for as long as I’ve been alive,” you snapped. “I don’t need a savior.”

“But--”

You ran your hand through your hair in disbelief. “I knew it. I knew I couldn’t help a giant without them getting... irrationally attached. We had two conditions, and you didn’t listen to either one! I was going about my day normally until -- until you showed up, and -- and ruined it!”

Luke’s eyes went wide. He was surprised at your outburst, but somehow, he understood it.

“I’m not a giant,” he said finally.

“What? What do you mean? Of course you are.”

“Do I look like one?” he asked, now a few inches away from your face. “We’re the same size.” You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. “Earlier, when I met you. If I had lied about being a borrower… would you still be acting cold toward me?”

You clenched your jaw. You had no answer to that, because you knew where he was going with this.

“We have to keep moving.” 

Luke felt a pang of guilt as you continued on. Maybe he had gone a little too far, but he just wanted to help. He didn’t even want to spend an hour of his day at this height; he couldn’t imagine what it had been like your whole life.

After 30 excruciatingly silent minutes of ducking behind barrels and craning his neck, Luke’s tired eyes finally landed on the Falcon, tucked away in a secluded corner. 

“There. That one,” he pointed straight ahead. You finally understood what he meant by giant, flat circle. You had never really taken the time to look at a ship before. You could feel your stomach starting to turn at the sheer size of it.

Luke took a few tentative steps in its direction. To his delight, you followed.

With no words spoken, you approached the base of the Falcon. The door was open, but no one appeared to be home.

Luke stood at the base of the platform in front of him. It was like entering a palace. 

“I can’t sense them,” he muttered to himself. He turned to you. “They must have gone out looking for me.”

You too were staring in a trance at the entrance to the Falcon. You had never, ever seen something so massive. You could barely comprehend how something this big even existed and functioned.

Carefully, you took a step. Then another, then another, then another, until you were walking up the platform with a surprised Luke in tow. The metal was cool and quiet.

Once you reached the threshold, you turned around, took a breath, and sat down. Luke mirrored your actions. You sat in silence, surveying the breathtaking view you suddenly had of the whole port. So this is what it feels like.

“(Y/n).”

Luke turned. “Huh?”

“(Y/n). That’s my name,” you mumbled. “You wanted to know my name.”

“(Y/n),” Luke repeated. You couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “That’s a nice name.”

You shrugged. “It’s a name.”

A beat of silence.

“It’s an incredible view,” Luke said finally.

“Yeah. It really is.”

A pause.

“Look--”

“I’m sorry, I--”

You both chuckled. 

“You go first,” Luke said.

You took a shaky breath. “I was just going to say… I’m glad I got you back to your friends safely. I hope they can help you out. Don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Luke laughed. “What if we could help you, too? If I can grow back, why can’t you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know, I--”

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. Fast approaching were two giants -- one man with a black vest and tall boots, and a woman in white pants and a white long-sleeve. Luke jumped up.

“HAN!!! LEIA!!! IT’S ME! LUKE! I’M DOWN HERE, I’M DOWN HERE!”

You were frozen to your spot, watching in horror at Luke hopping up and down. It was even more terrifying to see the giants realize what was going on. You had nowhere to run this time.

“Oh my -- Luke?!” The woman -- Leia -- nearly buckled over. She blinked furiously as she took cautious steps, making sure she was seeing things correctly.

“Luke? What are you -- holy crap.” The man -- Han -- his face was so contorted it almost looked unnatural. It looked like he was malfunctioning. 

Slowly, the two giants bent down. Luke swallowed, but quickly got over his fear in favor of the adrenaline rush. He was going to be okay!

“Han, Leia! I don’t know what happened to me! One minute I was trying to get some information, and then--”

“--It was that blasted pottery merchant, wasn’t it!” Han growled, making you flinch. Luke nodded sheepishly. “Oh, geez -- kid, I told you not to mess with that guy! Now look at you. You’re a pipsqueak.” 

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Leia asked frantically.

“I feel fine. Nothing’s wrong, I’m just… small.”

“I’ll tell Chewie to fire up the ship, we have to -- uhm.” It didn’t take Han long to notice that Luke had a companion with him. A companion that was the same exact height as him. He furrowed his brow as he stared right through you. You were shaking.

“Kid? Who the hell is this?”

“Oh, this -- this is --” Luke paused. He could clearly see the trembling that was wracking your body. All the color had flushed from your face, and you couldn’t stop staring straight ahead at Han and Leia. You were frozen.

“Hey,” he said gently. “(Y/n).”

You turned to him, and he gently grabbed your arm.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. You stared intently back into his eyes, which were flickering like the glow of a firelight. “They’re not going to hurt you, I promise. They’re a little shocked, but they’ll get over it. I know it. Okay?”

You took a deep breath, and gave a single nod. Your tremors had stopped.

“This is (Y/n),” Luke said, louder this time. “They helped me get here. They’re… they’re my friend.”

Han stared blankly for a moment. “Well, let’s all sing kumbaya,” he groaned, standing back up to his full height and making his way to the cockpit. “Luke made a friend!”

“You are insufferable, you know that?” Leia called back to him as he walked away. You couldn’t help but gawk at him until he turned a corner, out of sight. 

Leia shook her head and turned back to you. She slowly lowered her open palm down next to Luke, who stared at it with the same unease that you did.

“Come on, let’s get you both inside,” she said calmly. “You could probably use some rest.”

Luke stood, surprised he could stay balanced on such shaky legs. He turned to you and, with a knowing smile, he held his hand out.

You smiled back, and took it.

[hopeaterart]

PMTOK HORROR AU: INTRO

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO! Nearly four thousand words! (I’m trying to get back into writing, so if you guys want to see another part of the games translated into the Horror AU, send me an ask!)

The circle was completed.

The Craftsman took a deep breath, raising up and putting the vial of Blue Paint on his nightstand. The blue lines were glowing slightly on his floor, the circle just big enough for one person.

Good enough for him, it was an emergency anyway. The Sailor was already too late by a few days. He walked to it’s middle, bit his thumb, and let the blood drip upon the lines. They glowed brighter.  “Flipflopside.” He muttered, and his world was engulfed in blue.

When colors came back to him, he was at the gate of the town. He entered town, and sighed as he recognized the decorations all around. Had circumstances been better, this festival would’ve been Olly’s first exposure to the outside world.

But Olly having disappeared a week ago, along with some very important supplies, was the reason the Craftsman had scrambled to gather and create the necessary blue paint to teleport.

He stopped at the town square. Where... was everyone? He frowned at all the decorations strewn around. It was like an hurricane had gone through town. He groaned in exasperation, before continuing his way toward the Lady’s Castle. If the town was having problems, then she would be too busy to offer help with finding his son.

He... honestly doubted anyone would’ve been generous enough to help in the first place, which is why he had prepared arguments about why his worry over his son going missing wasn’t just a parent thing (which it wasn’t, but it was the main reason, and they didn’t need to know that), but rumors had it that the current human lord- or in this case, lady- was a generous and kind one.

Yeah, if she was anything like her uncle, then he wasn’t holding onto hope.

He finally arrived to it’s front door, knocking once. He was expecting to have to knock more, and then for someone to come open the door. Instead, the door grinded open, having obviously been left as such. He hummed in concern, looking around, before entering, on-guard.

And just as he entered, the door slammed behind him, making him jump. He hurriedly turned back toward it, trying to open it again in vain. Door locked. He groaned in exasperation. He was getting rusty.

He slowly walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing around him as he looked around. The place was strangely... dark and silent. For some reason, he felt like he was the only one there. He reached the end of the corridor, opening another door (this one properly closed, but not locked) and arrived at what he could only assume was the lobby.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and out came the Lady. Long blonde hair, dark skin, and pink eyes... yep, no doubt, it was her, even if there was something... off about her that he wasn’t sure he could place. He had never formally met her, after all.

“How good... to see you...” She said in a discordant voice, and that immediately squashed any doubts the Craftsman had about this being her normal self. There was, at least, hypnosis involved.

“Answer me this... shouldn’t this miserable kingdom be unfolded... and be refolded unto glory?...” He shook his head, a hand reaching into his apron to get his paper scoring tool, the sharper end gleaming like a shiv. Better safe then sorry.

“And what of those... humans?” The venom dripping from her voice surprised him, even if he wasn’t a fan of other humans himself. “Shouldn’t they be silenced forever?” Oh, he didn’t like were this was going. Whoever was pulling the strings on her, they were the kind of scum that would make even the former Count recoil in horror.

“... I see... Last question.” She started as he grind his teeth together. “Will you crease yourself and be reborn, like me-”

“Lady of humans,” He started as he took a step forward. She didn’t react at that, freezing and keeping lifeless pink eyes on him. “You’re not in your right mind right now. Please, let me try to undo whatever magic is making you act like this-”

“Wrong answer.” She started, and the Craftsman realized he had made a mistake. “Right answer. It matters not.” She said, tilting her head in a stilted manner that exposed her shoulder and the thick silver lines on it. No doubt, powerful binding magic was at work. “Your replies are all paper thin.”

The floor suddenly opened under him, a discordant goodbye accompanying the fall. And then his world was wrapped in pain and darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a cold ground, and five faces -or at least what he assumed where faces, what’s with the loss of his glasses- were looking down on him. “Oh, he’s waking up, he’s waking up!” One of them said, making the four others back up as he sat up.

He blinked, blurry. “Have any of you seen my glasses?” He asked. “They’re round with black frames. Their lenses are thick, and they have a retainer with purple and yellow beads.” The retainer was especially important to him, a reminder of the only relationship he remembered fondly. “If any of you are well-versed in magic, they’re also imbued with some pretty powerful protection spells.”

“Is that why they didn’t break?” Someone asked, handing him an object that shone under the dingy dungeons light.

He nodded, taking them in hand on pushing them up his nose. “Yes, thank you.” He then blinked as he regained vision, and looked around. All of those people... “You’re all monsters?”

One of them flinched at that, while another took a defensive stance. “Is that a problem, old man?”

“No, of course not.” He answered, bringing his knees to his chest. “If anything, I sympathize more with monsters than humans. We’re terrible.”

One of the monsters, who looked pretty young, came nearer. “So you don’t hate us?”

The Craftsman chuckled, patting the little plant monster’s head. “When you get my age, you don’t have much energy left for hating everything in sight. So I keep it for people who are truly deserving.” Like the chucklefuck who broke into his home, kidnapped Olly, stole most of his magical supplies and half of his Origami ones.

Suddenly, the door opened. More monsters, but those ones moving just as stiffly as the Lady earlier, entered. “Come with us...” The one standing at the front, who wore a ancient demon mask, ordered. The Craftsman got up, groaning as some of his bones popped, as everyone exited the room. He was about to follow them, when the masked monster held a hand up. Restrained fury was radiating off of the monster. “Not you.”

And just like that, he was alone again. He sighed, sitting down on the ground. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? The wall over there seemed pretty brittle...

He got up the inspect it, gently dragging his palm across it. Hello? A little voice suddenly asked, making him jump back in surprise. Oh no, please don’t leave! It said again. Was it coming... from the wall? 

He caressed the wall again, frowning. “Are you... trapped inside?” He asked, feeling dimensional magic weaved into the wall.

Oh, yes I am! The voice of the young girl started again. I’m in a very strange place, like I’m trapped in-between dimensions!

“You will be delighted to hear to your situation is nowhere that severe, then.” He snarked. “You’re merely the victim of a dimensional spell. Nothing that can’t be broken.”

Really!? The voice exclaimed, it’s (her?) happiness evident. I think there’s some Paint nearby, could you use it to draw a magic circle? I can use my own magic for the rest. He hummed non-committedly as he got up, heading for the boxes pilled in a corner.

After a strong enough push, they toppled, their content spilling. Mostly empty vials of Paint, beside one that seemed to hold enough for one circle. But more importantly, a crack in the wall that was big enough for him to slip through if he tried was there. But just as he was about to leave, the little voice made itself known again. You... you’re not leaving, are you? She asked in a tearful tone.

He stayed frozen for a moment, before groaning in exasperation and turning back toward the wall. He quickly made his way there, emptying the vial over his fingers and drawing a circle around himself. It then started glowing a golden color, the image of a hand appearing within it. “Shapeshifting magic, uh?” He picked at the wound on his finger, opening it again and letting blood drip once more.

The Craftsman watched, bewildered, as his arms flattened and folded like accordions. He then gathered himself, and ripped the wall away, shaking his arm back to normal as whoever was trapped in the wall detached herself. “Whoo! I’m finally free from the wall!” She exclaimed cheerfully as the Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief. Blonde hair, golden hair, the hat with two points... and those eyes... “Hi, my name’s Olivia! You-”

“I know who you are, girl.” The Craftsman interrupted, bringing a hand up. “I’m the one who designed you.” That seemed to shock her, her hat flying of her head as her eyes sifted sizes.

“What!?”

“And I must admit, whoever folded you did an excellent job. Almost makes me jealous.” He wasn’t jealous, but fucking furious, but not at her, and that wasn’t important right now.

“But- you- I-”

“Look, for now, let’s focus on getting out of here before those guys come back, alright?” He proposed, grabbing Olivia’s small hand and squeezing them gently. She nodded, an adorably determined pout on her face as they went through the secret passage. “Stay behind me, don’t make a noise, and above all else, do not tell anyone your name, got it?”

Olivia nodded, following the Craftsman as they slipped through the crack. They quickly walked out of the cell, both of their eyes shifting around to make sure no one was coming. The corridor seemed closed off, magic keeping the dungeon isolated from the rest of the castle.

“Unhand me!” As they heard a voice come from the other room, they quickly hid amongst the boxes near said room. The Craftsman flushed himself against the wall near a small crack, chuckling to himself as Olivia imitated him, before peering inside

The sight of the notorious Count folded into what was basically a wet floor sign would’ve made the Craftsman laugh if it wasn’t for the implications behind the type of magic needed to restrain him. There was also the fact that he was being held up by multiple clothespin, and the shadows. Two of the deformed monsters were holding up another above their head, the creature obviously struggling. 

And then it stopped moving, almost flattened as it was folded, powerful magic shifting and contorting it’s body. And then it was brought to a truly humongous shadow, a beast that opened it’s mouth with a mechanical sound. The outline of two sharp fangs was visible as the poor soul was placed within it’s mouth. And then...

KA-CHICK

The Craftsman looked away just as the beast closed it’s mouth, a metallic sound similar to the one of a stapler stapling sounding out. Well, at least he knew where that binding magic came from now, and where one of his supplies went. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to enchant a stapler!?

Poor Olivia was shivering in fear next to him, and he offered her a hand to hold just as the door opened. A horde of monsters, the last one being the demon-mask wearing one, got out. “Alright.” He started. “That was the last of them. Now, there’s only that old bastard left...”

As they left the corridor to go “fetch” him, he quickly made his way inside the room, relieved to find the door unlocked with Olivia still holding his hand. He made his way to the folded up Count, who had a miserable expression on his face. “Sir?” He asked.

The Count opened his red eyes. “Oh, a human!” He exclaimed, a surprised lilt to his voice. “My apologies, with all the chaos happening around here, I forgot that my beloved’s castle was on human grounds.”

“Your beloved’s castle is the middle of Flipflopside.” The Craftsman remarked with a raised eyebrow as he neared, taking the clothespins off. “If she wanted to live amongst humans, this wouldn’t be the place.”

“Ah, touché...” The Count commented as he fell to the ground, quickly figuring out a way to move. He then turned toward Olivia with squinted, and she squeaked. “And this young lady would be...?”

“My daughter.” The Craftsman hissed, not missing the sudden animosity in the Count’s tone.

To his credit, the Count immediately backed off. “... My apologies. Now, I do believe there’s another exit here,” he started, turning toward the other end of the room “but it’s hidden by an illusion spell. I would dispel it myself, but...” He shuffled a bit.

“I’m on it!” Olivia cheerfully declared, floating up to the wall and gently caressing it. Immediately, the surface fell away into Paint particles (which the Count was quick to waddle to and absorb, no doubt he wanted to collect enough magic to try and break out of his binds) as the young girl turned toward the two men.

The Craftsman nodded in approval as Count congratulated her, waddling up to her. “Incredible job, miss! Now, we can get out!” Olivia beamed, bouncing up and down in the air to a rhythm only she could hear as they made their way to a spiral staircase. 

Just before they started climbing, the folded monster turned toward the Craftsman. The older man frowned. “What?” 

“You have a very talented daughter.” The Count answered him as he started making his way up the stairs as fast as his body let him. The Craftsman smiled to himself.

“I know.” He started making his way up the stairs, Olivia’s hand back in his, when he noticed that she seemed unfocused. He stopped. “Is there a problem, girl?” He asked, turning toward her.

The younger girl looked up at .him, smiling. “I’m your daughter?”

A few seconds, then a shrug. “If you want to be,” He wasn’t the one who had folded her, but he was the one who had made the initial plan and cut out a piece of his soul for her, and he couldn’t be much worse than Olly’s kidnapper.

They finally made it back outside, the Craftsman shielding his eyes from the sudden light. They walked along the long balcony for a bit, until another door opened. Out walked the monster from earlier, the one with the demon mask, and the Lady. He heard the Count gasp behind him. 

“Why are you still so... flat?” The brainwashed woman asked him. “Why won’t you join me in folded glory...” She weakly reached her hands out to them. “Come, we can reshape you...” The fear shining through her eyes was yelling at them to run, run as far as you can, and never turn back. 

The Craftsman was very tempted to follow that message, ready to grab Olivia and jump over the balcony fence, before the masked monster opened their mouth. “Patience, Lady. This will do just fine. So...” They turned toward the Craftsman. “Why did you come to this castle, Craftsman?”

His eyes narrowed, pulling the paper scorer out again. “Someone stole what’s mine. I came here to ask help to get it back.” And it seems I’ve found my thief.

The masked monster made a sneering sound. “Is that how you see your son? A mere possession?”

“Wha- don’t talk about what you don’t know!” The Craftsman snapped, hand tightening around the tool in his hand.

“... Last chance, Craftsman.” The monster started. “Volunteer yourself to my cause, and let me fold you into something greater. Simple offer. Yes, or no.” The only thing that stopped the old man from going ‘go fuck yourself’ was Olivia’s presence. He instead shook his head. “Of course, I didn’t expect any less. And I wouldn’t have it any other way...” The monster snapped his fingers.

Another mind-controlled monster came into view. The Craftsman recognized him as one of the monsters from earlier. The Count snarled behind him, a surge of powerful magic catching him off-guard. “What have you done to my people!?”

“Folding them to my will. Look at your precious Lady.” The monster started, gesturing to her. “She’s better this way, don’t you think.” The only answer was a hiss. “Now...” The mask-wearing monster turned back toward the Craftsman, one violet eye glowing. “Prepare to be Folded!”

The monster jumped the Craftsman, hissing and snarling. Caught off-guard, he went down like a sack of potato, falling on his back and barely keeping the monster off-of him. He dropped the scorer, weakly moving his legs as his arms came up to hold the monster’s claws away from him. Olivia gasped in horror. “Dad!”

 “Wait, miss.” The Count started as he watched the Craftsman successfully move one of his hand to the monster’s throat. “I do believe that your father as the situation in hand.”

The Craftsman continued to hold the monster away from him, his hand tightening around his throat, before grabbing the paper scorer and stabbing the monster through his eye. Dark purple blood stained his hand as a pained noise came out of the monster, the scorer getting wringed out. 

The monster was then knee-d into the stomach, the Craftsman successfully throwing the monster off of him and over the fence. He got back up, groaning and doing his best to ignore Olivia’s horrified look. “Is that all you got?” He asked the masked monster, who sighed.

“Of course, how stupid of me. You did go by Mercenary when you were younger.” The masked monster noted as he started floating ominously. “I suppose there’s no point in maintaining this charade any longer...”

The monster shook, his arms raising in the air, before suddenly flattening and unfolding. Colors faded away as the illusion spell was uncast, revealing violets and yellows as a little boy wearing a crown revealed himself. The Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief, the Count made a noise of confusion, and Olivia gasped. “BROTHER!”

No... no, no, no, NO! It couldn’t be... “Wh- what are you doing here?” The Craftsman asked, putting his scorer back in his apron as Olivia started shaking.

“Please, brother...” She sobbed. “How many times have I told you you needed to stop? Please! You can’t do this!”

The boy simply sighed. “Why couldn’t the Craftsman have simply left you in that wall where I put you... Sister, I am afraid that if you stand in the way of my ambition, we will not be able to share my glory as family.”

“Brother-”

“I am not your brother anymore.” He stated, flipping his hair. “I am KING OLLY!” He then floated up and out of reach, floating in the sky as he cast a disdainful look to Flipflopside. “By the time I’m done, all those miserable humans will be folded... and those flimsy monster subjects shall be reborn as Folded Soldiers, serving me!” He then turned his look upon the Craftsman and Olivia. “And I shall fold, crease and bend this world to my whim... the birth of an Origami Kingdom!”

Olly snapped his fingers, a bright violet light emanating from his hand. It took a moment for the Craftsman to realize that was a signal, but he quickly dragged Olivia to the floor when he realized. And just in time too, as something yellow and charged with magic razed right past where his head used to be a second ago.

He quickly got up, scanning his surroundings as Olivia held onto him for dear life, the Count screeching right behind him. Streams of binding magic surrounded them, all controlled by Olly, all coming from different directions. “Follow me, you two!” The Count yelled over the rush of magic, hopping on the fence and then on a lower part of the roof. The Craftsman quickly followed him, hand tight around Olivia’s.

“GRA-BLAGH!” The Craftsman turned toward the voice, confused as he saw what was possibly one of the ugliest man he’s ever seen come to them at high speed in a rocket-propelled hot-hair balloon. The Count quickly jumped in, followed by the Craftsman and Olivia. “A’m ‘ere, Count!”

“Thank you, Warrior.” The Count started, smiling for what was probably the first time today. The Craftsman decided to give them as much privacy as he could as he turned toward the Lady’s castle.

There was five streams of magic in total. The red one came from the North, the blue one East, the yellow one South, and the purple one West. As for the green one, it seemed to come from the clouds. They seemed to take material form as they tightened over the castle, similar to shiny ribbons.

To his horror, the Castle was then ripped right off of the ground, the stone floors breaking away with it as it was lifted in the hair and above them. He blankly registered something lilac and yellow falling off of the castle as the other man with them (the Warrior, he thinks?) and the Count shrieked.

He sat on the floor, Olivia joining him and hugging him close as the Warrior yelled something incomprehensible. They then felt the machine machine shake. “What’s going on?” He asked the Count, who had slid next to them.

“They magic streams ur giein’ use some problems.” The Warrior answered for him. “Sae hing oan tiiiiIIAAAAAH!” The machine had collided with the red ribbon, making the Craftsman, Olivia and the Count fly out, with only the last one getting caught by the Warrior. He then tried to reach for the other two, but they were already too far away.

And as they fell, the Craftsman could only look as the ribbons carried the castle away. He closed his eyes as he saw it being placed upon the top of the dormant Sulfur Crater, a single thought circling in his head.

What the fuck did I get myself into this time!?

[disaster-bay-leaf]

Ok so these were the cutest~ (ㆁωㆁ)

4, 6, 7, 9, 12, 19, 22, 23, 28, 33, 34, 46, 47, 52, 59, 60, 63, 66, 83, 87, 88, 93, 99

I kno I listed like....all of them lmao but feel free to answer whichever you want and ofc you can ask me in return Baybe ( ◜‿◝ )♡

uHUHUHUHU much content for me to answer, im happy bebe 💜💜💜✨

4 - how do you take your coffee/tea?

hm coffee either Very Black No Sugar (for the sleep deprived me) or iced latte three sugars and theres no in between

and as for tea its All Black Teas That Exist, cinnamon-flavoured especially (but basically all teas that come to mind when u think “autumn”), and rooibos!!! okay basically the only oke i dont like is any type of green tea (which is sad because they look cool but my tastebuds said ✨no✨)

6 - do you keep plants?

honestly id l o v e too because i love plants but,,, im kinda horrible at taking care of them though still way better than the majority of my family (research helps) so the only plant i own is kinda a small-palm-tree-looking thing in a bigass glass jar that i saved from my mother’s plant-destructing hands and its mostly doing well (the ends of its leaves are starting to be yellow tho and im worried:((( )

7 - do you name your plants?

yes!!! though the current one was named by my sister and its called “pickett” after fantastic beasts shsjjsj

9 - do you like singing/humming to yourself?

oh god oh dude you have n o idea

i have absolutely n o singing voice but its something i do constantly to give my brain the right amount of stimuli so basically i listen to music 24/7 and hum to myself 99% of that time

12 - whats your favourite planet?

oh i actually didnt think about this for so long but either pluto (hes a planet screw nasa) or saturn (RINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or venus (girls,,,and libra,,,)

19 - do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw in it?

okay im gonna be completely honest with yall and say that my every single try at keeping a journal failed spectacularly and i lost motivation after like a few months so my only journals rn are my fancy fake-leather-bound calendar to note tests and assessments into, a kinda roughed up notebook that i uses for noting down poems or scribbling or passing notes in class, and a kinda fancy bullet journal notebook that i used as a book of shadows for a while but since my fountain pen died i didnt touch it

22 - are you a morning person?

n o

i am so not a morning person but i wish i could be because honestly dawns are beautiful

but as it is rn im either sleep deprived all the time and loathe every second of being in an awake state or (if i have a few days of schoolbreak) my biological clock moves forward a few hours and i sleep 2am-10am

23 - whats your favourite thing to do on lazy days with zero obligations?

except for the fact that i dont remember the last time it happened, i would probably spend it drawing outside, watching anime with my sister and riding a bike around the forest

28 - sunrise or sunset?

i love sunrises because its so peaceful and everyone is asleep but also i subconsciously immediately correlate them with waiting for a train to take me to school (because thats basically the only time i see them) so its a bittersweet love especially with my fucked up biological clock

but sunsets are really really pretty too and i see them more often so i cant choose

33 - whats your fave pastry?

and isnt that a millior-dollar question dhsjjsjsj

either cinnamon rolls (i absolutely adore them) or that one specific type of cupcake-shaped-thing made out of shortcrust/bread/whatever its called and filled with vanilla pudding

34 - tell us about a stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

awwww this is cute

okay so basically my two favourite stuffed animals (i still have them, they sit in my wardrobe) were two teddy bears (like maybe 20cm high each of them) and one was pure brown and the other was silver-brown and they had stereotypical polish male names “Waldek” (read. Valdek) and Stefan (i think tho im not sure if i remember correctly, my memory is a feeble thing sometimes

46 - tell us the worst pun you can think of

what dog would never bite you? a hot dog *badumtss*

47 - what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

huh a year ago id say pineapple pizza but i guess i dont hate pineapples that much anymore (tho putting them on pizza is still an abomination) but i think that if id ever want to get rid of anything it would be parsley, i hate that freakin herb (does it count as food tho)

52 - what are your favourite memes of the year so far?

the ever given for sure shsjshjsjsjsjjsj

but bullying tramp stamps is gold and pure tumblr energy too

as for fandom memes: im in love with all keeping-up-with-the-todorokis variations and the fact that the entire bsd fandom looked at fukuchi and said “biTCH” and thats one of the only things we’re unanimous about

59 - whats your favourite myth?

i always liked the kora/persephone myth (though demeter is an overbearing parent to the nth power), loki and thor crossdressing at a party to get mjolnir back, atalanta because shes a queen and id politely ask her to kick my ass, and cassandra because she deserved better, and theres a l o t more because alas i was a mythology nerd but this post is long enough for me not to make this section 20 times longer sjjsjsjsjsjks

but there are a lot of slavic myths that are very cool too, though we dont know that much about them as about the greeks for example

60 - do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

o o o o h yeah i do like poetry because to create such a beautifully sounding thing with only words someone has to be a genius

some of my favs are: some works of nakahara chuuya (thank u bsd for introducing me to this man’s beautiful imagery in his works i swear to god the descriptions do it for me) (also his poem about having hangovers is a mood like i feel you buddy), the raven by ea poe (i know everyone likes it but hOLY DAMN THE INTER/INTRAVERSE RHYMES ARE LIKE,,, BREATHTAKING) (and aso im a slut for gothic horror), and many more but also That One Poem From Welcome To Nightvale about reaching the island in the west,,, only perfect vibes from it

63 - are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organised or kinda leave them be?

okay heres the thing. for anyone else both my playlist library and my bookshelf would be considered pure chaos of a mad man b u t they actually have a highly focused system which means that i sort them based on their vibes, lovability and (in case of books) their age and whether or not theyre a part of a series so i would say my bookshelf is rather organised (when a quarter of it isnt occupying my desk that is) and my music is more organised than not but sometimes it gets out of control and i have to sort it entirely again

66 - what would your ideal flower crown look like?

either entirely constructed of simple white daisies, entirely constructed of only white roses, or something that probably would win a “how many different coloured flowers can one fit in a flower crown” competition

or something purple (maybe not belladonna)

83 - whats some of your favourite album art?

god i dont know if it counts but hozier’s wasteland baby is probably one of my absolute favourites and no one shall beat that

“thrifted youth” (dalynn) and “standard deviation” (danny schmidt) have very aesthetic covers too

also the iconic p!atd too weird to live, too rare to die! album cover,,, its just iconic what can i say

and last but not least matt meason’s pink-and-black album covers (though bank on the funeral is really pretty too but like,,, “who killed matt meason” d o e s it for me and so does the 2017 tribulation single)

87 - what are some movies that you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

this is such a hard question because im not a really cinematography-oriented gal but i suppose that (at the risk of not going deep enough into the cinema world):

- the princess bride

- inception

- night at the museum

- SPIRITED AWAY

- forrest gump

- truman show

- E.T. (i cried okay)

- the lord of the rings (because damn me if this isnt one impressive adaptation)

- parasite

and one more personal recommendation: “ready or not” with samara weaving because goddamn i dont usually watch this genre but holy s h i t is it good

93 - whats the hairstyle you wear the most?

honestly just plain hair down (because having curly hair is a menace), split in the middle when i have longer hair and split on one side when its short

also low ponytails or half-up-half-down when im exercising, or double french braids when my hair doesnt cooperate enough to look presentable in any other form

99 - list some songs that resonate with your soul whenever you hear them

this is difficult because my music taste is a goddamn rollercoaster on a good day, but heres some:

- me and the sky from “come from away” musical (this is sort of a test song for my mental stability, if i cry i aint stable)

- dancing after death by matt meason (okay most songs by matt meason except for like,,, hallucinogenics maybe)

- tears and rain by james blunt

- i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie

- almost home by mxmtoon

- anything by hozier really but shrike especially

- payphone, the cover by alex g (i cried to this song so many times)

- burning pile by mother mother (can i roast all my problems please)

- long way from home and cleopatra by the lumineers

- autoclave by the mountain goats

oooh that was c o o o o o o o l as fuck thank you sm so much bebe (and sorry for the long post @everyone else)

[lilibetts]

Sometimes A Girl Just Wants Some...

Falling in love with Riverdale, Theme 2: Spicy

Part 1/3

The 14th of February. A fraught time for the serially single in New Haven, to hear Veronica describe it.

“The end of Cuffing Season is nigh!” she proclaimed, holding an enormous dildo aloft.

(“That’s Colt,” their boss, Zelda Spellman, had explained when she hired Betty, upon seeing the younger woman’s wide-eyed fascination. “He’s a replica of a porn star’s penis. A very popular order, but also a very popular return.”)

In true Veronica Lodge fashion, she didn’t seem the least bit put out by this development. Next to her, Kevin Keller seemed markedly somber, but that was because his own casual boyfriend had ditched him on the very last day of January.

Betty, however, was indifferent in opinion to it all.

From her seat next to their workstation, she held up her pink mug with the penis-shaped handle in a toast. “Cheers, I deleted Findr from my phone,” she announced before taking a gulp of lukewarm coffee.

“Betty!” 

“Betty!” 

Both Veronica and Kevin were aghast.

“It’s barely February. What happened to TwentyTwenty being ‘The Year of Horny Betty’?” asked Kevin.

In her defense, she’d made that New Year’s Resolution last December, after one of those ‘look at your life, look at your choices’ epiphanies that left her life seeming very lacking. The reality of putting herself out there on a matchmaking app and meeting with the rare specimen who didn’t seem completely terrible and who seemed to have an actual body that was not 100% an ugly penis, however, had been nowhere near as exciting as she’d expected.

She was saved by Kevin’s computer chiming. “Sorry, satisfaction waits for no gossip.” He tapped a few keys and answered the incoming call. “Good afternoon and welcome to the Toyz R Us Customer Support Helpline. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?”

Veronica’s computer chimed too and she pointed an expensively manicured, accusative finger in Betty’s direction. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this!” She hissed before taking the call.

Toyz R Us only had two brick-and-mortar stores, but it did fairly well with online sales in New England. Betty had only taken the job because she needed some extra spending money around the holidays, and she’d stuck with it into the following semester because she liked the new friends she’d made and found the atmosphere surprisingly enjoyable. At least she got to put her writing skills to good use, even if it was for composing informative, yet enticing descriptions of sex toys.

Of course, her parents had no idea she worked here, and if she was careful enough, they never would.

Veronica’s call ended much more quickly once the man on the other end realized she wasn’t Cheryl. Unfortunately, Cheryl Blossom’s brusque and insulting phoneside manner was such a turn-on to a specific subset of men that she really could’ve started her own side hustle and made bank. Ridiculous bank.

“No sir, I can’t tell you how much thicker it will make your penis. We do recommend that if you use a penis pump, you do so regularly and continually,” Kevin advised before tapping a few keys and removing his headset. To Veronica and Betty, he exclaimed. “That idiot just asked me how much bigger the penis pump would make his dick...my god, how would he think we’d know?”

Betty snorted as she stood, penis-mug in hand. 

“Hey!” Kevin called after her. “We weren’t finished!”

“My break time’s over!”

There actually were a few minutes left of her break, but she had a good reason for being sneaky. You see, it might be Valentine’s Day, but it was also a Friday, and Fridays at Toyz R Us meant freebies in the Friday Reject Box. Due to the sheer volume of products that got moved between Christmas and Valentine’s Day, management had provided them with *two* Friday Reject Boxes.

Betty was a college student at heart—if she was going to support her newfound lingerie and sex toy habit, she had to avail herself of cheap and free products whenever possible. 

Carefully sticking her head out around hallway corners, Betty tiptoed around the building like Nancy Drew herself, on the lookout for her coworkers. 

It had taken her about a month of working here before she stopped feeling embarrassed by the products, although she tried to always approach it as any other job...with professionalism.  Still, there was something illicitly thrilling about being twenty years-old and working at Toyz R Us that made Betty feel like a truly independent woman, more so than moving 350 miles away from her hometown.

Betty wasn’t inexperienced, exactly, but she’d been raised a very straitlaced 'good-girl-next-door' and while college had done wonders for her independence and self-affirmation, she still struggled with the idea of discussing sex with her friends/coworkers.

Luckily, she made it to the table holding the Friday Reject Boxes without running into anyone, and Betty wasted no time starting to rifle through them. Hurry, hurry, before anybody else comes and sees you.

In the first one, there was a Fingo Nubby finger vibrator, a very intimidating looking Booty Camp Training Kit that featured three sizes of anal plugs. She didn’t care for the pink crotchless tights but she grabbed the package with the lavender babydoll that had small slits for the nipples and a matching set of panties with an open crotch. That went on the table, and, after assessing the toys in the first box, the Sweetheart Choker and finger vibrator was added to the small but growing pile of goodies. Just the thought of playing with those was already turning her on. With hot cheeks, she turned to the second box.

Since she started working at Toyz R Us, Betty had been exploring her own sexuality, giving more consideration to what actually turned her on and put aside the time to make herself feel good.

She was distracted from the quick nature of her mission when she noticed a stack of dvd cases towards the bottom. “Ooh,” she cooed, intrigued. “The Seduction of Heidi.” That was added to her pile. She skipped The Best of Ron Jeremy and picked up 49 Positions for Lovers, whose cover promised better sex for couples. Well, the way her sex life had been going lately, Betty needed all the help she could get. 

Deciding she had enough, and that she really should be nice enough to leave some things for her coworkers, Betty gathered up her loot and spun around, only to collide with the hard body of the man who had been standing behind her. She yelped and felt a few of her selections spill out of her arms as she nearly stumbled backwards into the table.

Strong arms grabbed ahold of her, righting her, and Betty’s eyes widened when she realized who it was.

“Jughead,” she croaked. “Have you come to look through the Reject Boxes?” 

Jughead Jones was more or less her mentor on the Content team, in some ways her boss. It was him to whom she showed her first product descriptions for approval, him who she worked hard to please. Over the months, they’d gotten to chatting from time to time, and that had been how she found out he was working on writing his first novel.  

Over the weeks, they had shared their personal work—chapters and articles—for the other to comment on. Jughead encouraged her, Betty cheerleaded him. She came to admire him...his intelligence, soul, personality...and she liked to believe he did so for her, as well. He was thoughtful, too, in a way that threw her because none of her boyfriends had been this attentive...it had always been her that listened and took care of people. Jughead turned the temperature up in their office and kept it relatively higher than he was comfortable with because Betty had kept shivering and working with thick cardigans and hoodies on. He remembered how she liked her coffee and made sure their room had a steady supply of scrap paper and colored pens so she could work out word choice and technical phrasing before typing anything up.

One thing was for certain: she was ponytail over heels in lust with him.

She wanted him to do things to her. Things.

Jughead stood there and adjusted his crown beanie ever so slightly. “Uh, yeah, I’ll just…” he trailed off and, to her horror, he bent down to pick up the things she’d just dropped. All she could do was watch as he straightened up and glanced at the educational dvd and the choker before handing them back to her. “Here, Betty.” 

She couldn’t even look him in the eye, so she stood there, intensely aware of the flush climbing up her chest and into her cheeks.

Betty wanted to die.

“Thanks. Uh...I better go get back to work. I’ll see you when your break’s over. Bye!” She couldn’t get away fast enough.

Once she turned the corner, however, Betty did not head back to the Content room. Instead, she slowly craned her head around the corner, just enough to see Jughead as he bent over one of the Friday Reject Boxes. Scarcely daring to breathe, she watched as he quickly grabbed two dvds. Squinting, she recognized them. Scooby-Doo: A XXX Parody, and The Twenty: Self Pleasuring, which featured a bunch of solo female masturbation scenes.

Well.

She knew what tonight’s masturbatory fantasy was going to be about.

[terrablaze514]

Believe In Yourself (Freedom Fighters WIP)

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters are the property of Katsuyuki Sumizawa, Sunrise, and its affiliates. I'm only borrowing them.

Summary: Children will live what they learn. Pain is costly until one incident sparks a new flame of hope and a promise to persevere. (Rated T)

The gray clouds loomed over the playground at Broomfield Elementary, where countless children played without a care in the world. One small boy walked around with his walkie-talkie when a group of taller kids approached him.

“Look at him,” one jeered. “He’s so lonely he needs a walkie!”

“That’s funny - he doesn’t even talk properly!” said another with a giggle.

“He’s the biggest nerd in our class,” said the ringleader. “So obsessed with geeky things, it’s pathetic.”

“Loser! Loser! Loser!”

The cobalt-eyed boy chose to ignore and walked away. This life, he’d never asked for. Ever since his mother and stepfather got killed in that plane crash returning from Japan, he felt so displaced, uptight and cold. His messy, dark brown hair and golden complexion revealed some clues about his heritage. However, this seemed to give the sixth grade bullies an advantage to target seven-year-old Heero Yuy.

If that's not enough, the group of six approached him. Again. One pushed him against the wall. Another grabbed his backpack and hung it upside down, as its contents fell. Three comic books, a Transformers action figure (Optimus Prime), and a new device he worked on for his Science project.

More taunts. Words hurt.

The small boy watched in horror as his work-in-progress got stomped on; dented and cracked. Before a frustrated Heero could react, the ringleader punched him in the abdomen.

Heero doubled over and tried to catch his breath. Another bully’s steel toe struck his left knee.

“Ouch!”

Little did they realize the red button of his walkie-talkie, perched against a lonesome staircase, was pushed. There’s only one person who had another walkie-talkie of their own. Without question, a seven-year-old American with a long chestnut braid crept up from behind, removed his own backpack, and whipped three of the bullies at once.

As the three older kids fell, their taunts and laughter were replaced with wails and agonized pain.

Good. At least his backpack had rocks in them.

Another witness of the incident grabbed the ringleader’s leg, yanked and twisted it, with little to no consideration. That good-for-nothing showoff truly deserved it. Enough is enough.

Unable to process how that came about, the ringleader begged for mercy from a-

Six-year-old Chinese boy?

Without warning, a third witness with blond hair and teal eyes gathered and assembled Heero’s belongings and stuffed them into his backpack, as quick as possible. He had secretly hoped this rescue plan packed a good punch.

The fourth witness, despite his mutism, threw swift kicks and punches at the other bully who originally injured Heero’s knee. Without question, he returned the favour with a stomp on said bully’s left knee... Nobody hurts his friends like that.

No one.

The tables have turned and the bullies in question resorted to evasion. They dashed away- or limped- crawled and cried- whatever. Serves them right.

“Who’s weak now? Huh?” Duo taunted. He was the eldest of the bunch by a few months; the only extrovert in their group.

“Enjoy your tears and sod off next time!” snapped Wufei.

Ignoring the pair who spent some time giving the bullies their just rewards, Trowa and Quatre helped a shaken, tearful Heero up. Quatre also wore Heero’s backpack and gave Trowa a nonverbal signal. When the slightly taller seven-year-old nodded in response, Quatre ran over to the staircase and took Heero’s walkie-talkie. He ran back and positioned himself under Heero’s left arm; Trowa under his right.

Duo and Wufei approached them and noticed Heero’s reddened jeans.

“Oh my god! We should bring him to the nurse’s office!”

“Wait.”

Wufei ripped off part of his sleeve from his white tunic, rolled it once, and wrapped it around Heero’s knee.

“This should help stop the bleeding for a while,” he said. “I’ve read it in a book once.”

“Let’s go!” Duo commanded.

×-+-×

In the Nurse’s Room, Heero winced in pain; he hissed his teeth as the nurse applied a plastic bag of cold ice on his knee. In his current position, he sat upright (save for his hurt leg) on the royal blue matted bed. His tear-stained cheeks flushed pink when Duo returned to the room and took a seat next to him.

“I’ve explained everything to Mrs. Brampton,” he began. “However, she wants to hear your side of the story.”

Heero shot him a funny look. Well, it looked funny to Duo, but the others would’ve had different opinions if they saw him right now.

“It wouldn’t make a difference,” Heero said. “The story will only repeat itself. The bad guys always win. The good guys, or anyone who fights back, as well as those who stand up for the bullied ones-”

“She’s not like the other teachers, Heero,” Duo interjected. “Unlike most of them, she knows how to look at all sides of a problem. That’s why I trust her.”

“I think you’ve meant all angles,” said Heero. “Regardless of which good adults remain, nobody cares to listen. I often fear that this trend will continue as I get older. People will never allow certain people to have a voice just because of how they look, where they’re from, or who their parents were. Who pays rent or mortgage. Who drives which car. Who’s net income is the highest? Who has an excellent credit score? Who lives in the best neighbourhood. At the end of the day, anyone with the best of these wins life’s greatest benefit…”

At this point, Heero’s shoulders slumped as he stared down at the beige floor.

“Having a voice, and the freedom to be heard. Not just seen, but heard. Heard by the ears who will truly listen and understand…”

His voice trailed off. A tear rolled down his cheek. Duo placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and prodded him a little.

“C’mon Heero! It’s not the end of the world. I know a lot of things don’t make much sense but, we can still win!”

Sniff.

Sniff.

“If only- you w-were a gr-grow-n up!”

Duo’s eyes widened. He knew what was coming.

Heero’s guilt trip…

Without hesitation, Duo moved in and wrapped his arms around the former. His forehead touched Heero’s shoulder while the sobs came.

“It’s okay,” said Duo. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“You’re wrong, it is the end,” Heero said between sobs. “It’s the bad guys who always win. There’s no such thing as freedom for the good guys, like us.”

“Why are you so hooked on the negative?” Duo asked. He tried his best not to sound alarmed.

“Because it’s a fact. Every adult fails in this area… giving us younger ones a voice without shutting us down.”

Before Duo could tighten his grip, Heero shoved him aside and slapped his own head on impulse. His eyes were distant now, as he slammed his right foot against the bed. This lasted for three minutes, even though Duo’s patience grew thin.

An educational assistant once explained to him that Heero bangs his head against things to help regulate his emotions, even though they’re working on curbing this behavioural pattern for his safety.

Right now, he’s fearful of the unforeseen future. He’s internalized the hurt that comes from school. His adoptive family has tried everything to boost his self-esteem and confidence. It worked at first, and he’s walked away from every bully he came across at school. His learning needs were met by a few teachers who always came prepared with extra tasks for him because typical in-class assignments took him five to seven minutes to complete. Heero’s intellectual abilities have created a new rhythm among his peers. As soon as he finished writing a paper, read two chapters in a book, completed a set of Math operations, or Social Studies, Heero used his free time to build new things. He has also fixed a loose bookshelf once and helped resolve issues with computer hardware and software.

The young boy had the mind of a genius.

An advanced barometer that also measured the possible impact of incoming stormy weather, divided by the rise or fall of temperature and air pressure, was a project he worked on for his Mad Science class. Today, its current progress got destroyed by the sixth-grade bullies. It took him fifty steps back from his goal. This specific project was due in a month from today, granted that Dr. J and Professor G taught this multigrade class twice per week (since they also teach University students at Yale).

Without further ado, Duo made another attempt to regain Heero’s attention. He pulled his friend in a tight, warm hug; the impulse movements stopped.

“Trowa will pass by in a few moments,” said Duo. “In the meantime, are you feeling any better?”

Heero gave him a vigorous nod, but the memory of his wrecked Science project brought the tears back. This was too much for him to deal with. Duo rubbed Heero’s hair as they rolled down his cheeks.

‘I can’t wait for those losers to leave this school for good!’ Duo thought. ‘Besides, karma is real and it will hit them where it hurts the most.’

Just then, Trowa and their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Brampton, appeared in the doorway.

“I’m fully aware of what transpired during recess today,” she began. “Heero, I’m ready to listen when you’re calm.”

She entered the room with Trowa trailing behind, knelt down and wiped Heero’s tears.

“I need you to take three deep breaths. Then you will tell me who the bullies were and what they’ve done.”

Heero slightly sat up and nodded. He felt at ease after trying her breathing exercise. His voice croaked a little as he spoke.

“It all started when-”

“Mrs. Brampton!” the principal’s voice bellowed. “I need to see you in my office immediately!”

“Give me five minutes. I’m dealing with something important right now.”

“NOW!”

What? The way the principal shouted at their teacher made the boys feel uncomfortable. Both Duo and Heero shuddered at the sound of his voice, while Trowa cowered away and assumed a protective stance in front of her. Mrs. Brampton still stood her ground and looked directly at her boss.

“I’m in the middle of an important conversation. One of my students got hurt - so can you wait until we’re done?”

“I don’t take orders from undergraduate degree holders!” the principal snapped. “Besides, those two,” he gestured Duo and Trowa with accusatory fingers, “and their other comrades had the nerve to injure six kids today!”

Trowa clenched his fists as he glared at the adult in question.

Duo snapped, “It was self-defence! Why would you allow several kids to gang up on one? That’s pathetic! They did him dirty and the moment my friends and I noticed, we had to jump in. None of the outdoor supervisors came to see what was happening. I suggest you talk to them instead!”

The moments that transpired hereafter had left Heero alone in the Nurse’s Room, with an injured leg, a bag of ice, the silent walls, and a note from his teacher on the back of a pink slip. She was fired for being one of the best teachers he ever had. Duo was right; her willingness to listen and understand didn’t go unnoticed. It’s too bad that moment was cut short, so what now? Duo, Trowa, and presumably, Quatre and Wufei sat in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded by a sorry excuse of a grown-up. One who refused to show the same amount of integrity that Mrs. Brampton had.

Ugh. Even adults were bullies, too. The way that temper-tantrum-having principal snapped at his teacher moments ago confirmed this reality. She was wrongfully terminated at that. What a mess…

He read the note one more time:

Heero, I’m truly sorry that things had to end this way - what you’ve witnessed shouldn’t have been. You will have another teacher sometime next week. In the meantime, don’t worry too much about me. I have my own battles to fight. I need you to know that this situation, and countless others, are battles that you and your friends must fight as well. It won’t be easy, but if there’s anything that I want you to remember, it comes straight from our Moral Education lesson last month. *Believe In Yourself. Always aim high and stand up for something that truly matters to you. Ignore the negative talks and surround yourself with positive energy. That’s the key. Hold it and use it.* Don’t forget to tell the rest of your classmates, especially your closest friends… *Be the change you want to see.*

Heero folded the note and slipped it into the front pocket of his blue jacket. As he zipped it, his adoptive parents appeared at the door.

An early dismissal it is.

~Owari~

[starspatter]

I think you should do ALL THE ASKS :D

WELL ALL RIGHT THENA - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.1) DCAU TimSteph2) ItsuHaru3) Logan x Diana Prince4) Itsuki Koizumi x Kyouya OotoriB - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.*looks at WonderWolf and SuperBats*C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.BatCat.  Even back when I wasn’t a fan of Batman I remember I read one DCAU comic involving Catwoman, and her character just didn’t appeal to me.D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.Any Kagepro ships tbh.  Idk I’m just not really invested in the romance of the series.  I prefer them all as friends/platonic.E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?Ahaha…  I’ve contributed a fair bit of Kagecrack through vids/posts, though I think my favorite are these BTAS crossover edits.Also Kyorange and Skitzo!Kyon for TMoHS.  (Plus the “genderbent cast is the previous generation” theory if that counts?)F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?Well I’ve been a Pokémon fan since elementary school.  While I no longer watch the show/play the games, I still follow the new generations and RP on occasion.G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?Eeyup.  While I don’t ship too often, when I do I ship HARD.  ItsuHaru was my first real “obsessive” OTP, but I think the honor for the *very* first ship I had goes to… Cody x Ken from Digimon S2, in a sense. *shot* ^^; Idk I was just really focused on the idea of them making up and becoming “friends”. XP Though I also shipped Ken with Kari too bc of the Dark Ocean stuff.  (Also Gary Oak x Molly Hale from Pokémon but that’s a whole other story. >.>; )H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?I’m still mostly a weeb so animu is my go-to, but I’ve been branching out to more Western stuff lately.  (Although when it comes to Kagepro the songs are still the best medium. =3=)I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?Steven Universe.  While I still love the show, hearing about all the toxicity in the fandom really turned me off so I just try to avoid it.J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)Again, Steven Universe.  Also Over the Garden Wall and Bojack Horseman (the former of which I still really recommend you see).K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?I’m also gonna say Sunset Shimmer from Equestria Girls.  She went from being a seemingly one-off villain to a fully redeemed good guy and leader in her own right.  Though she still has her insecurities, it lets her relate to and help others in the same situation to not let those feelings of inadequacy or jealousy overcome them.Also Midna from Twilight Princess.  Her change of heart from servicing her own needs to selfless sacrifice after observing how hard Link tried to save others mirrors my own feelings when I met Link in OoT/MM and watched him grow into a true hero, working to help both the people of Hyrule and Termina even when he had no obligation or was openly blamed for Ganon’s rise to power.L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)So I’m not a big fan of Dick Grayson in the DCAU (or any of his animated adaptations aside from Lego Batman; his YJ version being especially egregious) since I see him as rather childish and bad at dealing with conflict, but he’s admittedly a lot better in the tie-in comics, which give him some much needed development as Nightwing (whereas he barely got any screentime in TNBA).  There he acts as a genuine big brother to Tim, and is shown to not be as nearly as bitter at Bruce as the Old Wounds ep would have one believe.  I also like that they highlight Dick’s fondness for music, wherein his musical knowledge actually comes in handy to solve a couple cases.M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.All of the Mekakushi Dan, SOS Brigade, or Host Club tbhN - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).1) More Kagepro content in general2) More DCAU TimSteph 3) More ItsuHaru

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?Growing Up - Run River NorthDefinitely a Timmy Todd/TimSteph song now that I think about it.  Especially the lines “I found my way without your help, with a broken family” and “monsters in my head”. ;(P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).…Tbh I’m really liking the “Legion x Ouran” idea lately. XD *shot*Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.Hm…  I don’t think there are any I’ve really “abandoned”, per se.  Most of them are still there, just not at the forefront anymore.R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?All the relationships in Kagepro *shot*S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)Molly Hale from the third movie is the god of the Pokémon world.  Just… don’t ask lol.T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?Already answered, but I’ll add a few of my favorites for DCAU TimSteph:1) Tim cuts his own hair after RotJ (or rather just lets it grow long) since he doesn’t trust anyone else with sharp objects around him.  Steph is the first person he allows to trim his hair for him (even though she has no experience with it either), since I imagine him feeling comfortable enough around her that he even falls asleep like Sousuke does with Chidori in Full Metal Panic! The Second Raid.  (For context, he was raised as a soldier from an early age and this is what happened when they tried to take him to a salon.  Played for laughs, but probably an accurate portrayal of people suffering from anxiety/PTSD having to deal with mundane tasks that trigger them.)

2) Similarly, Steph plays piano to help calm Tim down whenever he’s having a panic attack.3) After RotJ Tim refuses to wear red for a long time until Steph knits him a red scarf and tells him it “suits him” bc red is the color of heroes.

As an aside, I also recently like the idea that Logan was at Lex’s party in the DCEU and saw Bruce and Diana together, based on this playlist that I made.  U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.Gonna talk about a few I don’t mention too often nowadays.

1) Link from The Legend of ZeldaLink will forever be my greatest true love.  He’s the first real “hero” I believed in, and he honestly changed my life at one point to actually want to be a better person.  While that faith has faded and I don’t think I can ever reach his example, I still wish I had that kind of courage and kindness - or at least be able to inspire others in the same way he did me.2) Meroko Yui from Full Moon wo SagashiteIf Link was the first (and only) person I ever truly fell in love with, Meroko was the one who taught me what “true love” was in the first place.  I won’t say too much since I still sincerely hope you will check out the series someday, but suffice to say there’s a scene towards the end where she makes a choice that shows how much she has personally grown, and come to understand what it really means to “love” someone wholeheartedly.

3) Gary Oak from PokémonThis is a bit of an odd one, but Gary is a character I related to a lot when I was an adolescent since, of the main series cast, he was the first and one of few to really change his “status quo” by quitting training and deciding to become a researcher instead.  In my eyes it seemed like a shockingly conscious choice to “grow up” in a world where you can ostensibly remain a “child” forever, and I both admired and deplored him for it (especially at that tender transitory age I was going through at the time, where it feels like you’re being forced to “become an adult” whether you want to or not).

V - Which character do you relate to most?Already answered.W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.Romance in general is really not my thing, so I dislike when it’s the focus/the writers feel the need to pair every character.  I’d rather leave things open-ended most of the time.X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.Family/friendship stories + tragic adopted children wanting to be heroesY - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?X-Men, Kingdom Hearts, Dangan Ronpa, Fate/Stay Night, Various Magical Girl series, Various RPG Horror games

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)I feel like I’ve rambled enough already phew. OTL Thanks for asking though. =P

[askmyboys]

Noxis

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, used for fighting, etc- Noxis was not treating too nicely

also whoops, i projected some shit onto him myself kldsdjfkslf lmao

sometimes angers, sadnesses, and traumas are projected o n t o the ocs

| Name: Maddox used to be his name but it was changed to Noxis

| Nickname: Nox

| Gender: Trans FTM (but he also uses It/Its pronouns too, those sound cool to him)

| Age: Definitely mid 20s somewhere (I’d say like 25 or 26 p much)

| Height: 6’3”

| Species/Race Anthropomorphic Dog (he’s pretty much a mutt)

| Fur Color/Body Type: His fur color is dark brown and he’s pretty skinny tbh

| Hair Color: His hairstyle is a mullet first n foremost and he’s dyed his hair a Emerald Green color

| Eye Color: Left eye is Prussian Blue and the right eye is a Dark Green color

| Appearance: He wears a black t-shirt first of all, some black ripped up and distressed looking skinny jeans with chains hanging down them, he also wears combat boots as well with dark green laces. He also wears a black spiked collar with a ring in the middle amongst all the spikes, he wears spiked bracelets on his wrists, his left ear is folded and his right ear is kinda half-pointing, he has some piercings in his ears, a piercing on his tongue, and an eyebrow piercing, likewise he’s got black claws (he used some nail polish and painted some claws dark green), his toe beans are an Emerald Green color as well with his middle ‘fingers’ essentially being that Prussian Blue coloring (wow going bold for the colors here ooo), his nose is also a dark green color as are the insides of his ears and his tongue as well, he’s also got razor sharp bear trap like teeth.

He’s got a few scars here and there, most can be VERY easily seen, others are pretty much not easily seen unless you get close to him, the most PROMINENT scarring are around his mouth, his face/head, nose, and a few more prominent looking scars are on his arms, legs, body, etc- he’s… Been through a LOT…  (also top surgery scars too don’t forget those- he’s also got a long bushy tail (he cut a hole in the back of his jeans for his tail to fit and move around a little bit)

| Personality: Oh b o y… This boy is VERY angry, aggressive, and practically almost feral at this point, he can still talk technically speaking but still, he’s very snippy/snarky, sarcastic as all hell, e d g y edgelord on our hands but eh there’s a reason for that even if it is not an excuse for him treating all humans like he does, speaking of those fuckin shitheads- he HATES humans absolutely DESPISES them, he won’t attack them or anyone unless they attack first, despite all the bark, he really is no bite… He doesn’t even LIKE fighting.

He doesn’t wanna hurt anyone really! ...He just wants to push people and others like him away because secretly? He’s fucking TERRIFIED of EVERYONE… He’s been hurt and betrayed by strangers before but what’s REALLY hurt him? He’s been betrayed and hurt and p much damaged SEVERELY by his own family! Those people were supposed to love him unconditionally! Those people were supposed to support him and take care of him! Not fucking abuse him, not fucking lie to him and tell him ‘everything’s going to be okay’ that ‘I’ve got your back’ and then turn around and hurt him so badly! Parents are supposed to care for you and love you unconditionally! He just wanted them to love him! He just wanted them to care, to be there for him!

(oops I put my own traumas, anger, etc onto my oc and I OOP-) anyways- He h a t e s his parents for how they’ve treated him, for how much they’ve betrayed him, for e v e r y t h i n g they’ve said and done to him, while they never PHYSICALLY abused him there was a lotta mental and verbal shit that happened, so now he tries to push everyone away so he doesn’t get hurt anymore, he wants to keep others away with anger, aggression, snarky and sarcastic remarks, he makes others think he’s just a straight up asshole but it’s to protect himself really, it’s all a defense mechanism in a way, deep down he just wants to stop the hurting, he wants to stop all the anger, the sadness, everything- He just wants to feel safe and happy, hell just OKAY in general! But, eh, he has a feeling its too late for all that now- might as well just keep up the act.

He’s also got a LOT of anxieties, depressive episodes, etc- Overall he’s just been through a LOT and I mean a LOT of shit-

| Side Facts: He usually stays in his home and keeps to himself, sometimes he’ll go out in order to get necessary items n shit like food/drinks, etc- But usually he’s at home, writing, playing video games, listening to music, or just- Watching random shit online, music, games, writing, videos- it takes his mind off a lot and can ease his stress immensely.

He owns a collection of various knives (is this just me in furry form? Lmao-) not for anything in particular but just because knives are fuckin cool- he is trying to learn witchcraft tbh because he finds that super cool, also wants to learn Irish Mythology and Greek Mythology a HELLA lot, he LOVES a good book from time to time, especially horror- like y e s please, he loves to watch horror movies too (...i sw e ar, im not projecting haaa)

Also, aside from putting my own traumas and feelings onto this boy, he IS his own character and he’s been through a LOT more than just parents- let me explain! So despite being a mutt/mixed breed/etc Noxis or Maddox more formerly known as was considered a VERY rare species, his colorings were unnatural compared to p much everyone in his area, they all had typical normal colorings, so of course people treated him weirdly as did others of his species, they essentially treated him like an outcast almost while others…

Well, people would pay a HIGH price for something like him… But I’m getting ahead of myself here, Noxis eventually ran away from home and that’s caused him to get into pretty bad situations, he’s been kidnapped a few times and sold as nothing more than a pet really or just something to look fancy in a home, basically a trophy/show-off item for the people in question, or in others cases he’s p much been captured and used for fighting because he looked like a tough breed who could hold his own, evidently this is where most of his scarring came from was from being put and used for fighting.

After all the fighting he eventually managed to escape from there and he honestly, while he does have a new home now VERY VERY far away from where all the bad shit, all the traumas, and of course he lives far away so his parents won’t ever find him, where nobody knows who he is or what, but he still doesn’t trust these people and shit either way- Like I said, he’s been through a L O T of shit, and it’s some pretty heavy stuff, likewise- Noxis fucking H A T E S being touched, anytime someone gets close to him you’ll definitely notice a flinch but he’s gonna hide it behind anger and aggression and just tell you to fuck off or something like that, now if someone raises a hand… That causes much more than just a flinch, his whole body language changes (the owners who d i d have him for a prize and the fighter dog owners ESPECIALLY weren’t kind or nice to him in the slightest soo yeah) say its a species like his own, another dog- if they bare their teeth that p much just brings back those flashbacks- while he usually runs away if they start charging him well he’s going to have to fight, despite hating confrontation and fighting he WON'T let himself be killed.

Noxis honestly definitely needs help, he needs someone to show him not EVERYONE is out to get him, that the world isn’t an ENTIRELY shitty place, he just needs someone to show him love, compassion, and understanding ...And a therapist, y-yeah- definitely needs a therapist, on the bright side at least he got his top surgery and bottom surgery! Hooray for trans doggo!! That’s a positive plus and a big fuck you to his parents and a lotta others, so there has been t h a t good around for him ...even though he didn’t trust humans and still doesn’t, I mean… He took a chance essentially, for all he knows they coulda dissected him ….eh- it’d be better than being owned as a prize or fighting mutt he supposed- either way, he’s pretty content with his body now so that’s a definite plus, i just didn’t want to end on a sour note!

[infinitehours]

Chapter 1

This fic is based off of The Haunted Mansion “Story and Song from the Haunted Mansion” audio.  It will also be based deeply off of my first impressions of the ride itself when I was a kid going on it those first few times in my life.

Also, if you’re wondering why there isn’t much description on our two main mortals, it’s because I felt it best to leave that up to the imagination (there was never much description in the original either).  I know I can’t get away without descriptives for every character though, so I’m not going to try for that, but hopefully it wasn’t too jarring.

~~~

Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, domestic violence, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

Other Author notes: There’s supposed to be an audio of the Big Ben chime (to parallel the demonic clock and represent that this is the realm of mortals), but I can’t currently find a way to create this audio file.  So.  Imagination I guess.

 Someone created a recording of the Big Ben clock from Parliament Square.  Cars and all, it definitely sounds like a city.  I will link it here in case you all want to hear it and use it to help your imagination, but it was NOT made by me, and as such it is NOT officially part of this story:

https://freesound.org/people/Noise%20Cuisine/sounds/47098/

___

Table of Contents Link

~~~

Ch 1: Miss Jackson

Have you ever seen a haunted house?  You know the kind I mean.  That old dark house that’s usually at the end of a dimly lit street.  The windows are broken and boarded, and the shutters hang loose on their hinges.  The trees have grown wild, their branches brush against the sides of the weathering house making strange noises in the night.  There’s a high vine-covered fence around the property.  Is it there to keep somebody out, or is it there to keep something inside?  It’s a house that people avoid walking past at night.  Strange sounds come from within the walls, and it’s said that eerie lights have been seen both in the attic window and in the graveyard at the side of the house.

Seen, at least….by some….

Our story revolves around this mysterious mansion….

But I’m getting a-head of myself…aren’t I?

So let me ask a different question…

                                 Have you ever been chased?

~

He was panting the whole way.

Round the corner where the pastor liked to play his accordion.

Over the iron wrought fence that blocked off the alley from the cars.

Through the double doors of the unused library.

Out the back.

Through the nook by J. H. Thomas’ shop.

And over the broken manhole right to the berry-red bench in the tiny cranny.

Michael knew the route like the back of his hand, spent every day of his life traversing it.  Or, at least, every day of his High School life, which was the only important part of your life you considered when you’re fresh faced and under twenty.

But they were right behind him, he could swear they were, thumping along and hollering; you could only run for so long.  The clock of the church chimed from somewhere a ways away, in Big Ben style; Six PM.  

He jostled a trash can on his way, half-heartedly hoping that it might slow his pursuers down as he rounded the corner.  The relief that flooded him when his target, a bench, came into his sights was a thankful feeling

For all of five seconds.

Then he was yanked back by his collar, just out of reach of his fragile safety net.  Falling to the hard concrete, three faces loomed into his view; three black leather jackets swarming around him and his red hoodie like vultures around a recent bloody kill

Jacob Matheson.  The head vulture, front and center, grinning over his recent (and recurring) victim.

He was the son of the owner of the largest retail store in town, which earned him a bit of a celebrity status in the sleepy rurals of northern Virginia.  Probably the only reason why he was the leader of his little gang.  

“What’s your hurry, huh?

Michael grimaced as a boot came down on his chest

“I…ugh.  I was just on my way back home..

“Liar. You live other way.”

“What’s the super special occasion?” Another boy said.  “We never see you out anymore, Mikey-Wikey.  You wouldn’t go off without at least saying ‘hi’, would you?”

“Our feelings might get hurt.  You wouldn’t want that now would you?”

Michael refused to answer that, wincing as the toe of the boot dug deeper into his ribs

“So how you going to make it up to us, huh?  How much you got on you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a really terrible liar, Mikey.”  Jacob gestured towards the others.

Two seconds later and they pried Michael’s hands off of his pockets to start their rummaging

“Nice.  A whole twenty.”

“There’s more than that! What’s this?”

The other boy held a miniature keychain of a football, twirling it around on one of his fingers

“That’s mine. Give it back!”  Michael lunged, yet the boy had already tossed it to another

The three jeered and danced around him, taking turns with the keychain.

“Ooh. Almost got it that time!

“Gonna practice your jumping skills with us, huh?”

“Good dog!”

“Go get it, boy!

“You think we can teach him to beg?”

“You want it?? You want it?? HA!”

Jacob was last to receive, and Michael turned to him in irritation.   “You have my money.  You played your little game.  Can you just leave already?”

“I don’t know.  We just got here.”  A murmur of agreement.  “What are you doing with this thing anyways?  Pining for the good ol’ days when you were still on the team?”

“Aw, Jacob.  Can’t you see he misses playing?”  One of the other vultures said.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Did I say that too soon?  How long’s it been?  Four months?  Five? Got your leg all healed up nicely?”

One of the boys pretended to make a pass at his left leg, causing him to jerk into the defensive.  Jacob flashed a grin at the sight.

“Still not in tip top shape, huh?  Considering what happened, playing with this little football is probably the closest thing to a real game you’ll ever going to get for the rest of your life.  But don’t worry, Mikey.”

Jacob’s little wicked sneer only grew smug.

“I’m sure the rest of the team will do just fine without you.  You were just the water boy, weren’t you?  Most benched player ever in ol’ G. H. T. High.  Quite the honor.”

Michael gritted his teeth; he never cared too much about playing football, but he also didn’t need to hear this.

“But you can come play with us any time.  We don’t mind that you’ve got a bum leg.  In fact, how about you go long right now?”

Jacob pulled back with a sinister little smirk and a clear intent to throw it straight to the roof of the nearby apartment building.  Unfortunately for him, the football was snatched just before he let it loose.

“Wow, what do you know? A real life wannabe biker gang in their native environment.”

The football’s new owner was a welcome sight.  A pink sweater, a black skirt with an embroidered horse, a white blouse, and the look of someone who had just ate a whole bag of sour gummy worms (Jacob and his gang tended to have that effect on people).

“Ugh.  It’s the girlfriend.  Go away, Karen. Nobody invited you.”

“As if I need an invitation to rain on your parade. If you’ll give back the money that I’m sure you stole, we can be on our way and I won’t have to tell anyone about this.”

A speck of realization later and Jacob was staring at Michael with an even wider grin than before.

“Wait, is SHE why you came out of your house?  Date night? OooooOOOoooooh. Kissy kissy.”

The boys started making smooching noises, prompting Karen to let out a sigh of frustation.

“Mr. Vance!  Mr. Vance!  The jerks are back and they’re threatening your customers!”

“Whine all you want, what’s that old geezer even going to d-“

“Come over here, Mr. Arrow.  There’s a bit of vandalism I think you ought to look at.”  A much older man in black stained overalls came seemingly from out of nowhere, seemingly gesturing for the chief of police to follow.  Jacob’s face dropped.

“Scram!” Jacob said, not even waiting for his friends before booking it straight out of the alley.  They were generous, at least, if only in the fact that they threw Michael’s money back in his face.

Mr. Vance watched them retreat and let out a long, drawn out sigh.  “You kids okay?”

“As good as can be, I guess.” Mike said.

“Thanks for pretending for us, Mr. Vance.”  Karen said.

“A little lie goes a long ways sometimes.  I only wish I could convince an officer to hang around here.  Could do with a little less thieves.  Those three are gotta get their comeuppance sometime.”

“Yeah?”  Mike grabbed his keychain.  “I’m still waiting for that to happen.”

“Might come sooner than you think.  Well…come in then.  I’ve got your package in.”

Mr. Vance took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow; the wrinkles that lined an otherwise middle aged face seemed particularly discernable that evening.  Coupled with the silvery threads of his hair, anyone who didn’t know any better would have had the man pegged for a senior citizen.  But he was very much in his thirty’s, at most, and the reasons for why he looked so aged had often been the subject of discussion in town.

Especially considering that his store was easily one of the most important places around.  

The big retailer shop that lay in the heart of town was nice, but they often didn’t carry specialty items (and didn’t appreciate you asking to order them).  That was where Mr. Vance and his store came in.  Sure, it was tiny and cramped, and there was always a heap of unsightly broken bits of rusted metal in the corners near a large creepy portrait of a woman holding a skull, but there was so much of the place that was filled with mysterious and old objects, books galore, and more candy than you could ever possibly eat in your entire lifetime.  The man had no organization to speak of, so whenever a person cared to carouse the shelves they were almost guaranteed to find something wondrously unexpected.  

Karen loved it here.  As much as Mike liked old nick-knacks himself, it was mostly for her sake that he stepped foot inside time and time again.  Whenever she would examine a row of clocks or ancient utensils or even the words on the spine edge of a book, her whole demeanor would brighten up.  He loved watching her when they were here, she would always hold a smile on her face as she delicately traced a finger over things that were several times her own age.

Currently, she seemed distracted with an old timey animation device.  He couldn’t remember for the life of him what the things were called, but they consisted of a cylinder with slots for viewing, and had an image painted all around the insides.  The images were slightly different, so that when the cylinder was turned quickly it would simulate movement.  Animation.

Unfortunately, the one that Karen found seemed to be broken.  She couldn’t get it to spin, the painted crows were forever stuck in place…

“M-miss Jackson? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.  You’re here….early.” Mr. Vance said.

Mike looked up….the air somehow felt…colder  as his eyes fixated on the lone figure standing in the middle of the room.

The strangely dressed lone figure standing in the middle of the room, who was most certainly not in the middle of the room a few seconds ago.

A deep green dress like a thick moss on a dark forest floor, with a pinstripe blouse and matching apron.  Dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes were part and parcel of a face that oddly looked both amused and bored all at once.  And the bit of frill and bow on the top of her head seemed to so wonderfully match her attire yet be so terribly out of place in a modern day setting.

She looked like a maid.  An old-fashioned maid.  A very lost old-fashioned maid, considering that there were no buildings nearby that were large or rich enough to need to hire one.  

“My….employer…” There was surprisingly nothing strange or unusual about her voice, “…is rather anxious tonight, so I had hoped to present to him the items I had ordered.  If you happen to have them ready, of course.”

“Y-yes…Yes.  You…you wouldn’t happen to have come alone, Miss Jackson, would you?”

The girl smiled wistfully.  “Are we ever truly alone?”

Mr. Vance visibly gulped.  “Right…of…of course not.  I-I-I got your package right here.  Oh..Michael?”

Mike tore his eyes away from the woman back to the shopkeeper.  Mr. Vance’s demeanor seemed….suddenly different.  His face had gone a little pale, and there was an almost imperceptible waver in the way his voice cracked.  

“Would you…would you mind waiting a bit while I wrap up Miss Jackson’s items here?”

“Uh...Yeah, no problem.”

“Thanks.”

Mike headed over to where Karen had been curiously watching the whole exchange.

“Is there a costume party we weren’t invited to?” He asked her jokingly, earning a smile.

“She looks…kind of familiar.  Like I’ve seen her around…just…not in that getup.”

“Yeah…I feel like I’ve seen her around, too.   But I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her before…”

She turned back to the animation device….and found it….spinning.  Ever so gently.

The painted crows began to flap their wings, rhythmically in time with the cylinder.

But then…faster.  And faster.  And furiously faster still, until the image was a seamless representation of the act of flying.

“Mike….” Karen said, the nervousness clear in her tone.  The device was not electronic, yet seemed more than willing to move completely on its own.

Even he was a little hesitant to touch it, yet his mind was made up when he could feel the warmth of her fingers clinging to his.

Clap.  His hand clamped down on it.  When he let go, the device obediently remained still.

“Heh.”  Mike’s laugh was more nervous than amused.  Karen’s hand squeezed his again.   “Must be off balanced or something.  Speaking of spooky, though, did you check out the way Mr. Vance was- ”

“Are you going back to the cliffs?”  The voice behind him interrupted.

Mike spun around to find himself face to face with the strange woman.  Up close, it was more obvious that she couldn’t have been more than a few shades older than either of them, despite her rather timeless attire.

“Yes….we are…” Karen anxiously responded, “But how did you know that?”

“I’ve watched you go up there.  The house I stay in happens to be nearby.”

“Where?” Mike butted in, “The only buildings up that way are all abandoned or mostly destroyed.  It would be kinda hard to live in any of them.  It’s pretty much a ghost town.”

“Yes…” The woman said, a faint smile on her lips. “Yes, you’re right.”

He couldn’t tell what she meant by that.  Was she saying that she wasn’t living in any of those buildings?

Karen coughed. “Um.  Well I like your dress.  The green looks very pretty on you.”

“Oh thank you.  I think so too.   It also makes my employer uncomfortable and likely brings up awkward memories for him.  Which is the other reason why I wear it.”

He and Karen exchanged a funny look.  He couldn’t tell which was odder, the fact that she purposely wore something just to make her employer uncomfortable or the fact that she just casually dropped this information to complete strangers like it was a normal subject to talk about.

“Miss Jackson?  Your items…”  Mr. Vance interrupted.

“Of course.”

The shopkeeper seemed to hesitate as he handed her a bag full of several individually wrapped parcels.

“One of these…you do know one of these things on your list is…”

“Illegal?” The young woman didn’t mince words or even flinch, which is more than what Mr. Vance did in response, “Technically it’s not, if people only bother to read the law anymore.  But yes. I’m well aware. But as you are quite aware, my employer is not concerned with legal matters…Anymore.”

“…I’m well aware.” He softly said.

“Will I see you later then?”  The young woman said as she turned to leave.

But Mr. Vance kept his head turned away from her and firmly on a broken clock in front of him, eventually squeezing his eyes shut as though he could will her away.

“…Have a good evening then, Mr. Vance.”

“…Same to you, Miss Jackson.”

Before she left the shop proper, the woman turned one last time to Michael and Karen.

“By the way…Tom Sawyer’s road is the faster way back to town if you’re coming from the cliffs.  And if you’re ever caught in an unfortunate rainstorm, please do stop by.  You’re more than welcome to hide under our awning.”

“We...never go to the cliffs on a rainy day.”  Karen said.

“Never say never,” With the twist of a tiny smile, the woman left the shop.

The atmosphere grew quiet.

~~~

And it remained silent for a solid minute.

“…Hey Karen?  You can get our stuff, right?”

“Wha-?”

Before she knew it, Mike had just thrusted the twenty in her hands and ran out the door.

“Hey…Mike!”

“What’s he doing?” Mr. Vance said, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I think he’s trying to catch up that woman.  Who was she, anyway?  I don’t see her often enough around.”

“That’s because she doesn’t live in town.  That’s Eleanor Jackson.  ‘Nell’ for short.  She’s up near the cliffs.”

“Where near the cliffs?”

Mr. Vance handed her two glass bottles of crème soda and a heart shaped package. “I’m sure Michael would be very insistent that you don’t open it until you’re together.”  

Purposefully changing the subject.

“…And you said that women asked for something illegal…”

“Now don’t you repeat anything you’ve heard here…”

“I…I won’t.  But is everything alright?  If she’s forcing you to do something illeg-“

“It’s not like that.”

It was said so forcefully and emotionally that Karen took a step back.

“…It’s not like that.” Mr. Vance said, softer this time, “But you should go and stop Mike.  Nothing good will come of him following after Nell like that.”

Package and soda in hand, she started to do just that.

“Karen.”

She paused.

“…Don’t always trust Nell.  She often only gives you half of the truth.”

With that statement freshly turning in her head, Karen went out into the alley looking for Mike.

He didn’t get very far; right around the corner he looked up at her sheepishly from the ground, while a friendly face tried unwind a long bit of fishing line.

“I tried catching her, but…”

“I think I ended up catchin’ a young ‘un instead.”  Mr. Mortimer flashed a grin at her before untwisting the hook from Mike’s jacket, “You ain’t quite the fish I be looking for, lad.”

Mr. Mortimer was a fisherman.  Probably by trade, too, as that’s the only thing she’s ever seen him do.  He always had a fishing pole in one hand, his trusty (but peculiar looking) tackle box in the other, a smile on his wrinkled face, and a song on his lips.  Very few people in town could ever say that they hated the man, even though he did always smell like fish.

He was also frequently wet, as he claims he never had good balance and constantly fell in.  She had no doubts about that.  The sight of him trudging around soaked in the frigid air….She often felt freezing just looking at him….

“Are you alright, Mr. Mortimer?” Karen said, offering to help him up.  His hands were cold as usual.

“Aye I’m alright, I’m alright.  No harm done,” With Karen’s help, he stood steady on his feet again, “But tell me young ‘un, what had you such ‘n a hurry?  Who were ya chasin’ after?”

“Some lady we saw at the shop.”

Mr. Mortimer flashed him a joking grin.  “Chasin’ after another while you got your young lady here?”

Karen snorted.

“Hey! No! That’s not what I meant! Karen!” Mike didn’t find it as amusing as they did, and gestured her to help him out.

“Mr. Vance said her name is Eleanor Jackson.”

Mr. Mortimer’s eyebrows rose in recognition.

“You know her?” Karen asked.

“Aye.”

“Did she come down this way?” Mike said.

“Sorry, young ‘un, I didn’t see anyone but yourself.”

“But I could have sworn she turned here…”

“She be a sweet girl, no doubt.  But you’re best off not followin’ her home, for your own good.”

“Mr. Vance said something like that…” Karen said.

“He be a smart one.  Is he in today?”

They nodded.  Before they could say anything else, Mr. Mortimer bid them good day and went off to the shop.

“Mr. Vance didn’t want to answer any questions about her either…”

“Everyone’s acting funny about her.  I don’t get it.”

“Well…let’s not worry about it anymore.  I really want to go to the cliffs tonight before it gets too dark,” She shook the heart shaped parcel slyly, “What’s in the box?”

“Three guesses,” Mike grinned.

“Hmmm,” She held it up to her ear and closed her eyes, as though she could somehow divine the answer, “Caramel chews, sour worms and…black licorice gummy bears?”

“Right on all three counts!”

“Do I get a prize?”

“Do I count?  Or are you still mad at me because I went ‘chasing’ after someone else?”

“I guess I can forgive you,” She said coyly, giving him a peck on the cheek.

They walked off together, hand in hand, too distracted with each other to notice the growing storm clouds overhead….

Storm clouds the weatherman never predicted.

Storm clouds that never moved from their position above the woods that led up to the cliffs.  

[raindrenchedstories]

Rescue home. G/t, Pet tiny, Forever home Verse. Drama heavy. ARCHIBALD!

Neil shivered heavily, vision fading. All he knew was he was trying to keep his head above water. Thrashing wildly, he screamed for help the next time he surfaced. His face poking just above the white rapids Soon after being swallowed by the ice cold current. So this was it then? He'd survived so long on his little raft. Only to be washed away again by a flood. He let himself fall, giving up the fight. If the river was going to swallow him, it may as well just do so quickly. Get it over with. Neil was just about to quit holding his breath and just let it all end when something bumped his back. Then, PUSHED. Neil felt the water force him flat against the surface pulling him up. His body broke free of the near unbearable force in a few moments, but his accent did not end. The surface levelled out to allow him to balance. The world fell away and he could only see an olive platform around him. Ahead, a teal wrinkled surface, breaking up at the end by blue, then, olive. Finally, he stopped rising, resting under what his blurred vision told him were two small suns. So very dim. The world fell black as exhaustion finally took over. As consciousness slowly returned, Neil could feel something warm. A comfortable heat pressed against his back. And below him, something heavenly soft. Neil ran his hands through it and curled up a little. Whatever heaven he'd just been lifted too, he was ready to accept it. Hell he could be happy even if he were laying next to some furry fanged beast waiting to eat him whole. There was a little shuffling near him. Indicating something else living was in the room. He ignored this and scooted closer to the warmth. Humming happily when he felt the heated surface curve nicely against his skin. A booming, breathy sound rumbled overhead. The surface behind Neil lifting away a moment. He gave a grunt of protest, then fell very still. He was awake, alive and with something much bigger than him. "I guess that would feel very nice. After that little dip you took." The words ended in a bubbling, slurping noise that made Neils stomach turn ice cold. The warmth was soon returned to the ground near him, and pulled back to where it had been. But the voice, that was what caused Neil to finally open his eyes, and promptly wish he hadn't. Well above him, the olive skinned Savior he'd only had glimpses of became clear. One of those monsters, a titan in his own right.

~

Archibald leaned back in his chair, eyeing the little being from his position. From the looks of things, the little fellow wasn’t too cold. Though he seamed pretty shaken up. Reaching over, the man spooned just a little of his tea out and held it near the small being.

“Here you go. Drink up” He rested his hand on the table, the lip of the spoon just within reach of the being. Despite his expectations, the little being hesitantly leaned forward, peering at the contents in the concave surface.

Instead of investigating further however, the little fellow stood up, and bolted. Dashing for the nearest escape he could. Archibald had to scramble to catch the little guy before he attempted to jump from the table.

“Well aren’t you full of spunk? Or absolute terror. I can respect either one really.” He dragged the small being back to the centre of his table. Thanking his lucky stars he’d been fast enough for the catch.

The sooner he got this small ball of spunk to the shelter, the better. He’d probably find a home in... Part of Archibald started to scream at him. No. No he couldn’t take this little guy to the shelter. William spoke so poorly of the place, Archibald may as well have left him in the river.

Now, a dilemma popped up. He couldn’t rightly re-home the little guy. And he couldn’t turn him loose. But he wanted his first pet to be a special moment between himself and William. He eyed the tiny being.

Bugger it. The creature needed a home now. If he stayed in this half drowned state in a shelter or else where, he’d catch pneumonia. Not an option. With a motion of the hand, a small cage formed up from the floor. Archibald lifted it with ease and rested the little cage on the table.

Not suitable for full time living, but it would work as a place to sleep and be fed. At least, until Archibald could buy him a shelter like Richters. He’d have to call William in the morning. And let him know the situation with the little one.

“Alright fellow. I guess you’re home now. My name is Archibald. Call me by that please.” He reached out for the tiny being, only to find him slowly inching his way to the edge of the table. Instead of scrambling to rescue him, Archibald just watched.

As soon as the little one made it to his destination, he paused. Glancing over the edge. Apparently it was too far down as the little guy cowered back, and began looking for something else. As opposed to chasing after him, Archibald simply made the new cage look solid. It became a hiding place.

Once he was done with that, he stood up, walked away, and ignored it. The best way to catch small animals, in his experience, was to make them think they were getting away. After a few moments he turned back to the table. Sure enough, he didn’t see the little fellow.

Peering over the table, just in case this little one got smart enough to hide elsewhere, he found nothing. And so, shut the cage, making the bars space out again so he could see in. The man froze in horror when the little creature was not, in fact, inside the cage.

“L-little guy?! Where are you?” Now Archibald was in a hyperactive state, lifting his feet just in case the small being had miraculously made it to the floor. He tried to sound as soothing as possible as he called out.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you. Just come out now.... That’s a good chap, just... Oh please be alright. I’ll be heartbroken if you hurt yourself.” That much was true. Archibald couldn’t stand the idea of saving something only for it to die a few moments later.

~

Neil pulled the cloth off his person as soon as the giants voice trailed off elsewhere. The brute was clever, he’d give him that. Giving Neil an all too tempting hiding place. Only, Neil wasn’t a dumb animal. He knew damn well that was a trap. He’d used traps like that on lost mice and what not as a child.

He also knew that the next step to this was to get off the table before the giant checked again. Unfortunately, that happened much sooner than he’d expected. “AH! There you are. Oh thank goodness.” Busted.

Dropping to a headlong sprint, Neil glanced wildly from side to side. There was still no way off the table. None that’d spare him bodily harm anyways. In fact, the only out he could see was... the very thing he was avoiding. The giant himself.

What would it do to him? Why was it so interested in him? Finally, why hadn’t it just grabbed him yet? The answer to the last question came quite quickly as Neil was forced once more, to stop running. The edge of the massive table staring him down again.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind told Neil; ‘Jump. It’s better than whatever that monster has planned for you.’ The rest of him, however, screamed otherwise.  No, he could make it out of this. He just had to be smart about it. No, jumping from a high place was never the right answer.

No, the ground wasn’t falling from under his feet. Wait... what?

In one instant, Neil realized he was in the careful grasp of the giant. He was lifted up, and away from the edge of the table with great care. So much care, he’d not noticed the fact that he was even grabbed at all.

“There’s a good lad. Now. I think you can use the cloth for a bed tonight. And we’ll go see Will in the morning.” The giant was hushed, speaking softly for the sake of just being quiet it seamed. Neil hadn’t moved an inch. Not wanting to fall or anger his captor.

Slowly, he was placed in the cell made specially for him. However this titan did it, it amazed Neil. The top of the room shut without a door, and the giant smiled down to him. Part of the cage rose up suddenly, into a bowl.

He noticed that anything that changed in his cage, came from a hand gesture from the giant. With that in mind, Neil watched the beings actions as he began pouring water into the new dish, and tuck the cloth he’d been hiding under in.

Neil glanced up at those golden orbs and cleared his throat. “Um... food?” He went ignored, or perhaps, unheard. In a few moments, the cage was covered. Leaving Neil in total darkness. He curled up staring at the darkened bars with a grimace.

“So... What’s next?” He wasn’t asking anyone on particular. And expected no form of response. However, just sitting wondering about the future seamed rather... dull. Or even a little frightening. What had this giant planned for him?

~

Through the night, Archibald woke periodically. Checking in on his new pet, every so often the creature would shriek out. More than likely something along the lines of ‘bugger off’. This always brought a little “oh. Sorry” From Archibald.

The next day, the giant could hardly wait to take the cover off, and see how the little one had done over night.

Slowly he pulled the blanket away and peeked in. A cold ball hitting his stomach when he found the cages contents missing. Given the little mishap yesterday, Archibald made a small attempt to pull the little cloth aside. After all, the little one was good at hiding.

When he didn’t find the being there, Archibald pulled the cage top open and manually searched it. It wasn’t until a sharp noise of surprise sounded that he glanced elsewhere.

~

Further down the table, Neil was attempting to keep the soft make shift rope he’d forged out of napkins from tearing. He’d found the bars of the cage easy to slip through, after enough jimmying and uncomfortable squeezing. And spent most of the night hiding just under the cover forging this rope.

Now he was hanging halfway between the table and the floor, and honestly didn’t know which way was out. Probably should have looked into that sooner, he thought. Now he was left, clinging to a poorly constructed rope, right in front of the titan.

Oddly enough the giant did not become angry. Only laughing softly. “My bad. Should have made those bars a little more tightly spaced.” The massive platform that was the titans hand slowly rose under Neils feet, catching him and forcing the man into a sitting position.

“You’re too smart for cages, aren’t you?” Neil flinched at the sight of the other hand coming up. Would it smash him flat? No... No it looked as though Neil would live to see another day. As the other hand curled into a fist mostly. Aside from the index finger.

With deliberate care, Neil found the giants finger running softly down his back. Starting at the base of his neck and ending at the tailbone. He stilled. It was probably better not to move than to risk angering his captor and being punished for it.

He was then returned to his cage and carried off. Swinging slowly by the newly formed handle. Where they were going, he’d had no idea. It was a long ride however. Longer than he was used to at least. Generally he’d only travel a few hours before some hang up happened.

This time, he found himself holding the now smaller bars of his cell. He watched as the world swung rhythmically. Eyeing the sight of the giants moving legs. Slow, deliberate. The titan knew which way he was going. That was for certain.

Now, if only he’d share that information with Neil. “How much farther?” He asked without much spirit.

~

It wasn’t long at all in fact. As they came to the start of a sort of cottage. Several small trees were growing in a garden under the windowsill. The door it’s self was made of grand oak. The only tree to knowledge that out grew most giants. One would think that made them rare, but no.

It was a common material, and so cultivated and cared for enthusiastically. One branch could build at least four doors and nine tables. Making them an easy resource to keep up.

It was that door Archibald knocked on. Every time he came to this place his heart kicked up a bit more. There was a bit of shuffling and the door swung open. A shaggy, bearded face meeting with his own. William instantly beamed at him.

Archibald was dragged in with a good thud to the back, knocking him slightly off balance. “Arch! You ol’ so and so. I thought you got scared off yesterday!”

“Um, no... No. I ah... I heard something in the river, and it was moving away from me. As it turns out well.” He lifted the cage in his hand, allowing William to see in. The mans eyes widened.

“Is this the poor lil’ thing you called about?”  the being in the cage scrabbled back away from William and made a clear noise of distaste. Or perhaps fear. Archibald hadn’t heard anything like that from Richter, and so was confused.

That said, he placed the cage on the table nodding. “Yeah, poor little thing was practically ice when I found him. I was really scared I’d have to... Well he’s alright now. I was wondering if you’d help me pick some supplies.”

He kicked at the floor, trying not to look the other man in the eyes. He glanced down to the human in the cage, letting the little fellows worried expression reflect on his own. “I... I need to take care of this little guy now. After all.”

William smirked, patting Archibalds arm. “Yeah... You’re cooking alone would be hell on the little bugger.” The bearded giant folded his arms, resting on the table.

Archibald almost got offended before a sharp noise caught both their attention. Both men glanced at the table top enclosure. Spotting Richter. The small being shuffled his feet and sort of hugged the door.

“Is Rick okay?” Archibald gave William a wary glance.

“He did something wrong. Knocked down that photo of... Of my boys. And well, he got a time out for it.” There was a small sting of guilt in those words. Archibald heaved a sigh and patted William on the shoulder.

“Told you.”

“Stuff it.” Archibald snickered to this. Giving William a sort of knowing look. He lowered his hand near Richter, enough to scratch gently behind his back.

~

“Wait, what have you been feeding this guy anyhow?” Neil felt his stomach roar in complaint. It had been almost three days since he’d run out of food back at camp. It wouldn’t be long until he’s just waste away at least. An escape from it all.

“I... I don’t actually have anything for him. That’s why I need to go out today.” Neil eyed his captor, taking note of his awkward shuffling. Part of him wondered what they were speaking about. The other part told him it never mattered. It wasn’t as though he would be able to understand it anyhow.

“Mmh. What about all those treats you sneak Richter when you think I’m not looking?” Neil paused. That name. Richter.... He hadn’t heard it for four months. A sad smile crept over his face. Technically the man was his brother in law. Sarah had loved him dearly. Though, it was unlikely they were talking about him.

“I leave them here... just hidden. I don’t have... I didn’t have a tiny at home so~” The golden eyed giant waved a hand, the top of his cage opened slowly. Neil found himself attempting to duck out from under the giants hand. Laying flat on the floor and rolling to one side nearest the pinky finger.

When the giant turned up empty handed, he glanced directly at the man. Confusion and shock were clear on his face. Soon that turned to an adoring smile however, as the being reached for him again. “He’s smart though. I’d dare say a little smarter than Richter.”

Neil flung himself out of the way again, only to find himself foiled this time.  He didn’t know what he’d expected. He was in a stone cage, around a giant who could control the earth like it was easy as breathing. The floor made a small scoop, tossing Neil into those careful fingers.

“Speaking of... Why don’t we introduce them? Rick hasn’t seen another of his kind for a while. It might do him some good. And we can feed your little one too.” As the ground vanished from view, Neil flung his arms around the nearest digit screaming.

“Um... Is it a good idea? Putting two males in the same space? Is Richter food aggressive?” The rise out of hell finally ended, and Neil found himself now moving sideways. Pressed against soft, corded fabric. A thunderous beat rung in his left ear.

Looking up, he could see the bottom of the giants chin, while the rest of the world was drowned out by an olive skinned hand. Locking up, Neil shut his eyes long enough to concentrate on what was happening. It was just a heartbeat. Just an act of gentile kindness.

“It should be fine. I have a spritzer bottle if they end up fighting and really, they’re so small it’ll be easy to stop them.” The bearded giant just stood there, smirking at the two. Neil shifted under the hand a bit more, avoiding the fuzzballs gaze.

“What?” Golden-eye (as Neil had come to nickname him) sounded defensive.

“You still do that cuddling thing is all.” The other laughed.

“Let’s just introduce them already.” He pulled Neil away from his heart with a sigh. Slowly, the man was carried over what looked to be an entire orchard, kept atop a table.

Several of the peach trees were beginning to bloom, and Neil could only gawk at the sight. Soon enough he noticed a small amount of movement to his left. Staring down, Neil could see a clear sort of house. With someone just coming out the door.

“Is... is that another human?” Squinting, Neil ended up trying to leap from the giants hand at about the last little distance. He was secured in place by a thumb before being set softly on the grass. Sure enough, another man could be seen making his way over. Pausing for just a moment.

Both men just stared at one another in disbelief. Neil pushed his blond hair out of the way, jaw dropping in shock.

Before him, dressed in a blue polo shirt, and grey sweatpants, the other man blinked. He brushed his bangs out of his face, keeping the practical mullet out of his soft brown eyes. Neil took a moment to recognize him really, he’d changed quite a bit. However it was in fact him. It was Richter.

“R-” It wasn’t long until Neil found himself engulfed in a surprisingly tight hug. Lifted a little off his toes. He could hear both giants inhale sharply before exhaling.

“NEIL! Oh my god. I- I thought you were dead!”Carefully patting Richters back, Neil found himself leaning his head on the mans shoulder.

“Likewise ass hole.” He returned the hug full force. It wasn’t long until one of the giants made a defined ‘aww!’ sound. Causing Neil to jerk well away from the titanic brutes. Richter blinked a moment before giving a soft laugh.

He glanced up at both giants giving a wave to the one with the beard. Said giant reached right in, and Neil scrambled well away from that suspicious hand. “I take it this is either day two or three for you?” Richter smirked, leaning into the titans touch a moment.

Neil ducked out from his hiding place behind one of the peach trees with a confused look. “What?”

“You haven’t lived with giants that long is what I mean. It’s not so bad. Once you get used to it.” There was a tiny groan as the massive digit made it’s way over the small of Richters back, causing Neil to basically sputter in anger.

“Don’t enjoy that! Dude! He’s literally petting you right now! Isn’t that a little weird?” Neils hands flung this way and that in frantic gestures. Richter just eyed him a moment before giving a soft chuckle.

Moving away from the giants hand he turned around to face the being, putting on a pleading expression a moment. Not long after both Giants conversed a moment, took something off the side of Richters ‘house’ and left. “’Bout a month ago, Oh yeah. That would have been far too much for me thanks.”

Richter gave a short shrug before throwing an arm over Neils shoulders. “Now though... It’s just kind of the norm. Count yourself lucky you have someone to explain this shit.” Neil was steered into the building and taken to a room to the right, clean white sofas and pillows littered the room. There was an ever present lavender smell.

He was steered near a chair and encouraged to sit. Richter sat near him, on the adjacent sofa. “Okay, so what’s going on?”

“Well, you know how people used to keep hamsters, mice and other small animals way back when? Welcome to the mouse’s point of view.” Richter gave a shrug, a scraping noise caused Neil to flatten himself against the chair. Richter just laughed.

“You’ll get used to that.” He stood up, motioning for Neil to follow.

“I challenge that.” Neil grumbled. Obliging Richter for the moment. In the room across from the one they just left, was a sort of kitchen. A table with a sort of lip stood on the one end, filled with steamed vegetables and a small amount of cheese.

“...Where’s the meat?” Neil glanced at Richter with confusion.

“Ah... Bear is... That is the big fuzzy guy? He’s a vegetarian... Or he can’t digest meat... Not sure which. Sadly that forces me to eat the same.” Richter stared at the table with a grimace. “I get rather sick of it too.”

“So... What, you just live in this little orchard and get fed? No attempts at escape or anything?” Neil leaned in to inspect the platter of food available to them. It smelled good, though he couldn’t distinguish the vegetables from anything he knew.

“Neil, have you seen the wall here? It’s to big for me to climb out!.... Plus, you know...” Richter handed him a small sort of spork. Leaving the man utterly confused. He sat across from Richter who’d already tucked into his meal.

Neil eyed him worriedly. Leaning over to get a better look at the mans expression. “You... actually enjoy it here... don’t you?” Richter glanced away, trying not to make eye contact, and basically confirming Neils claim.

“It’s ah... It’s hard to explain man. When I was found well. I thought I lost everything.” He took a small bite of the vegetables before looking back at Neil. “After mom and dad... And then you guys. I hate to say it, but I almost gave up.”

Neil gave a pause, only now starting into the meal provided. Surprisingly, the taste was much sweeter than anything he’d found in human foods. Perhaps that was the hunger talking however. Regardless, he began scarfing them back, finally receiving nourishment after so long. All the while listening.

“So, when I was dragged up from our old hiding place, it honestly looked like more of the same. I spent three months in a sort of pet shelter. Then Bear picked me up. Fed me, clothed me, gave me a warm place to sleep. It’s been nice honestly. Haven’t had anything like this since I was a kid.” Richter leaned back a bit before standing.

“You make it sound so great. But really. You DO realize you’re just giving in right? Just existing?” Neil blinked a moment, a loud clacking noise causing him to jump.

“Just the door. Looks like the guys have left.” Richter took down two glasses, pressing a button in the centre of a long pipe and filling them with water. He held one out to Neil while drinking from the other.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Neil eyed the water, wondering if there was anything in it. Neil was far too calm for it not to be drugged somehow. Finally he took a sip. Just water, though it did have a sort of sweet taste to it.

Richter shrugged, sitting back down near Neil. “Don’t know what you want to hear. I know it isn’t much of a life in comparison to way back when. It gets lonesome sometimes.-”

“We are NOT going broke back mountain Rick.” Neil gave him a wary glare.

“Huh? Oh oh the cowboy movie. Mom always shuffled me to bed when they watched that one... Nah, what I mean is... Well you can’t talk to giants. Sure, you can repeat a few phrases, but I’ve yet to learn the language.” Richter scratched at his chin, grimacing a moment before heaving a sigh.

“You’re actually the first person I’ve spoken to for a while too.” Neil attempted to ease the weight off the conversation, seeing Richter turn distant. They had to get off the topic of isolation. Finally something came to him. “Hey, anything on golden eyes?”

“Golden- Oh, oh the other guy. He’s a good fellow. Really careful with you. Tends to sneak you sweets when he feels like it.” Richter smirked. “Then gets in shit for it.” The two men shared an awkward laugh glancing at one another.

“So, I’m okay then? Nothing to worry about?” Neil blinked a few times, worry finally boiling to the surface.

“Well, you’re okay now aren’t you?” Richter patted him on the shoulders. “Arch is a good guy. You’ll be okay.”

There was a moment of silence. A moment that had apparently lasted an hour, as the two giants returned. Archibald eyed the two a second before taking up Neils cage.

“Oh... God no. I don’t want to go.” Neil cringed, leaning in close to Richter. The man in turn just heaved a sigh.

Neil felt himself be pulled to his feet. “I know. Personally I hate travelling too. But you’ll be alright. Just remember; You’re not in any danger. Okay, you’re smaller than them, but they won’t hurt you.” Richter gave his best reassuring smile. Only for Neil to throw his arms around the man.

“Ricky...” There was an awful clacking as the giant reached for the wall. Half of it fell away leaving an empty space. The giants hand reaching in. As soon as the first of the five fingers curled around his stomach, Neil began to shiver.

~

“Looks like they hit it off just fine. I’ll bring him back every so often. Get them socialized. Sorry little guy. But it’s home time.” Archibald placed the little being back in the cage, watching as he instantly attempted to scramble out.

Richter squeaked something at the little fellow then glanced up at Archibald. Silently conveying his concern. With a small huff, the man reached in and carefully ran a finger over the tiny being in the enclosure. “Don’t worry, you’ll see him again buddy.”

“So, you think you’ll be alright? You know you can call me when ever right?” William leaned on the table, eyeing both Archibald and his new pet.

“Hopefully. The enclosure I made looks about right. He should be a little better off. At least. Better than he was in the river.” Closing the top of the cage, Archibald heaved a long sigh. Leaving was the hardest part. The part he never wanted to do.

Pulling his coat on and saying his goodbyes for the moment, Archibald left the building. Tiny noises escaped his new pet. And the carrier swung unsteadily. Indicating the little thing was trying to break free. He heaved a sigh.

Home was much the same, a big hole in a mountain. Set up like a normal house. The only difference was now there was a plastic enclosure hanging on one part of the wall, and a large maze right next to it.

Multiple chambers had sets of building supplies and toys to keep the small being active. As well as a few ‘nap zones’ as Archibald called them. Places away from the shelter that the little guy could sleep in.

Opening the top of the carrier, Archibald noticed the small glare from his new housemate. The little being just waited this time, seaming to brace himself for lift off. Instead, Archibald brought his hand to his chest with a soft smile.

“Archibald.” He enunciated every syllable slowly so the being could understand. Then extended his hand to the other.

“Right Hello Archie.” There was an annoyed twich. As Archibald attempted to hold his temper.

“No. Wrong. Archibald. Or Arch....”

“Archie. Now let’s just get this over with.” The tiny being crawled right into the extended hand. “Show me my prison....If I’m going to be a pet, I’ll be the pet from hell.”

“...We’ll work on that. Until then, welcome home... Guess I should name you.” Archibald set him in the enclosure carefully, watching the little one gaze around. Before finding a corner, and falling in it, huddled in on himself.

“...Richter called you ‘Neil’ Right?” At the sound of his name the little being perked up. “Guess that’s it then.”

[unto-myself-together]

Of Stories and Songs: A Haunted Mansion Fanfic Ch 1

Ok.  If I keep going on fretting about how imperfect this chapter is, I’m never going to get it out.

I have now edited a TON of stuff in this chapter.  

This fic is based off of The Haunted Mansion “Story and Song from the Haunted Mansion” audio.  It will also be based deeply off of my first impressions of the ride itself when I was a kid going on it those first few times in my life.

Also, if you’re wondering why there isn’t much description on our two main mortals, it’s because I felt it best to leave that up to the imagination (there was never much description in the original either).  I know I can’t get away without descriptives for every character though, so I’m not going to try for that, but hopefully it wasn’t too jarring.

~~~

Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, domestic violence, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

Other Author notes: There’s supposed to be an audio of the Big Ben chime (to parallel the demonic clock and represent that this is the realm of mortals), but I can’t currently find a way to create this audio file.  So.  Imagination I guess. 

~~~

Table of Contents: 

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,

Chapter 6 , Chapter 7

~~~

Ch 1: Miss Jackson

Have you ever seen a haunted house?  You know the kind I mean.  That old dark house that’s usually at the end of a dimly lit street.  The windows are broken and boarded, and the shutters hang loose on their hinges.  The trees have grown wild, their branches brush against the sides of the weathering house making strange noises in the night.  There’s a high vine-covered fence around the property.  Is it there to keep somebody out, or is it there to keep something inside?  It’s a house that people avoid walking past at night.  Strange sounds come from within the walls, and it’s said that eerie lights have been seen both in the attic window and in the graveyard at the side of the house. 

Seen, at least….by some….

Our story revolves around this mysterious mansion….

But I’m getting a-head of myself…aren’t I?

So let me ask a different question…

Have you ever been chased?

 He was panting the whole way.

Round the corner where the pastor liked to play his accordion.

Over the iron wrought fence that blocked off the alley from the cars.

 Through the double doors of the unused library.

Out the back.

Through the nook by J. H. Thomas’ shop.

And over the broken manhole right to the berry-red bench in the tiny cranny. 

Michael knew the route like the back of his hand, spent every day of his life traversing it.  Or, at least, every day of his High School life, which was the only important part of your life you considered when you’re fresh faced and under twenty. 

But they were right behind him, he could swear they were, thumping along and hollering; you could only run for so long.  The clock of the church chimed from somewhere a ways away, in Big Ben style; Six PM.  

He jostled a trash can on his way, half-heartedly hoping that it might slow his pursuers down as he rounded the corner.  The relief that flooded him when his target, a bench, came into his sights was a thankful feeling

For all of five seconds.

Then he was yanked back by his collar, just out of reach of his fragile safety net.  Falling to the hard concrete, three faces loomed into his view; three black leather jackets swarming around him and his red hoodie like vultures around a recent bloody kill

Jacob Matheson.  The head vulture, front and center, grinning over his recent (and recurring) victim.

He was the son of the owner of the largest retail store in town, which earned him a bit of a celebrity status in the sleepy rurals of northern Virginia.  Probably the only reason why he was the leader of his little gang.   

“What’s your hurry, huh?

Michael grimaced as a boot came down on his chest

“I…ugh.  I was just on my way back home..

“Liar. You live other way.”

“What’s the super special occasion?” Another boy said.  “We never see you out anymore, Mikey-Wikey.  You wouldn’t go off without at least saying ‘hi’, would you?” 

“Our feelings might get hurt.  You wouldn’t want that now would you?”

Michael refused to answer that, wincing as the toe of the boot dug deeper into his ribs

“So how you going to make it up to us, huh?  How much you got on you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a really terrible liar, Mikey.”  Jacob gestured towards the others.

Two seconds later and they pried Michael’s hands off of his pockets to start their rummaging

“Nice.  A whole twenty.”

“There’s more than that! What’s this?”

The other boy held a miniature keychain of a football, twirling it around on one of his fingers

“That’s mine. Give it back!”  Michael lunged, yet the boy had already tossed it to another

The three jeered and danced around him, taking turns with the keychain.

“Ooh. Almost got it that time!

“Gonna practice your jumping skills with us, huh?”

“Good dog!”

“Go get it, boy!

“You think we can teach him to beg?”

“You want it?? You want it?? HA!”

Jacob was last to receive, and Michael turned to him in irritation.   “You have my money.  You played your little game.  Can you just leave already?”

“I don’t know.  We just got here.”  A murmur of agreement.  “What are you doing with this thing anyways?  Pining for the good ol’ days when you were still on the team?”

“Aw, Jacob.  Can’t you see he misses playing?”  One of the other vultures said.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Did I say that too soon?  How long’s it been?  Four months?  Five? Got your leg all healed up nicely?”

One of the boys pretended to make a pass at his left leg, causing him to jerk into the defensive.  Jacob flashed a grin at the sight.

“Still not in tip top shape, huh?  Considering what happened, playing with this little football is probably the closest thing to a real game you’ll ever going to get for the rest of your life.  But don’t worry, Mikey.”

Jacob’s little wicked sneer only grew smug.

“I’m sure the rest of the team will do just fine without you.  You were just the water boy, weren’t you?  Most benched player ever in ol’ G. H. T. High.  Quite the honor.” 

Michael gritted his teeth; he never cared too much about playing football, but he also didn’t need to hear this.

“But you can come play with us any time.  We don’t mind that you’ve got a bum leg.  In fact, how about you go long right now?”

Jacob pulled back with a sinister little smirk and a clear intent to throw it straight to the roof of the nearby apartment building.  Unfortunately for him, the football was snatched just before he let it loose.

“Wow, what do you know? A real life wannabe biker gang in their native environment.” 

The football’s new owner was a welcome sight.  A pink sweater, a black skirt with an embroidered horse, a white blouse, and the look of someone who had just ate a whole bag of sour gummy worms (Jacob and his gang tended to have that effect on people). 

“Ugh.  It’s the girlfriend.  Go away, Karen. Nobody invited you.”

“As if I need an invitation to rain on your parade. If you’ll give back the money that I’m sure you stole, we can be on our way and I won’t have to tell anyone about this.”

A speck of realization later and Jacob was staring at Michael with an even wider grin than before.

“Wait, is SHE why you came out of your house?  Date night? OooooOOOoooooh. Kissy kissy.”

The boys started making smooching noises, prompting Karen to let out a sigh of frustation.

“Mr. Vance!  Mr. Vance!  The jerks are back and they’re threatening your customers!”

“Whine all you want, what’s that old geezer even going to d-“

“Come over here, Mr. Arrow.  There’s a bit of vandalism I think you ought to look at.”  A much older man in black stained overalls came seemingly from out of nowhere, seemingly gesturing for the chief of police to follow.  Jacob’s face dropped.

“Scram!” Jacob said, not even waiting for his friends before booking it straight out of the alley.  They were generous, at least, if only in the fact that they threw Michael’s money back in his face. 

Mr. Vance watched them retreat and let out a long, drawn out sigh.  “You kids okay?”

“As good as can be, I guess.” Mike said.

“Thanks for pretending for us, Mr. Vance.”  Karen said.

“A little lie goes a long ways sometimes.  I only wish I could convince an officer to hang around here.  Could do with a little less thieves.  Those three are gotta get their comeuppance sometime.” 

 “Yeah?”  Mike grabbed his keychain.  “I’m still waiting for that to happen.”

“Might come sooner than you think.  Well…come in then.  I’ve got your package in.”

Mr. Vance took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow; the wrinkles that lined an otherwise middle aged face seemed particularly discernable that evening.  Coupled with the silvery threads of his hair, anyone who didn’t know any better would have had the man pegged for a senior citizen.  But he was very much in his thirty’s, at most, and the reasons for why he looked so aged had often been the subject of discussion in town.

Especially considering that his store was easily one of the most important places around.  

The big retailer shop that lay in the heart of town was nice, but they often didn’t carry specialty items (and didn’t appreciate you asking to order them).  That was where Mr. Vance and his store came in.  Sure, it was tiny and cramped, and there was always a heap of unsightly broken bits of rusted metal in the corners near a large creepy portrait of a woman holding a skull, but there was so much of the place that was filled with mysterious and old objects, books galore, and more candy than you could ever possibly eat in your entire lifetime.  The man had no organization to speak of, so whenever a person cared to carouse the shelves they were almost guaranteed to find something wondrously unexpected.  

Karen loved it here.  As much as Mike liked old nick-knacks himself, it was mostly for her sake that he stepped foot inside time and time again.  Whenever she would examine a row of clocks or ancient utensils or even the words on the spine edge of a book, her whole demeanor would brighten up.  He loved watching her when they were here, she would always hold a smile on her face as she delicately traced a finger over things that were several times her own age. 

Currently, she seemed distracted with an old timey animation device.  He couldn’t remember for the life of him what the things were called, but they consisted of a cylinder with slots for viewing, and had an image painted all around the insides.  The images were slightly different, so that when the cylinder was turned quickly it would simulate movement.  Animation.

Unfortunately, the one that Karen found seemed to be broken.  She couldn’t get it to spin, the painted crows were forever stuck in place…

“M-miss Jackson? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.  You’re here….early.” Mr. Vance said.

Mike looked up….the air somehow felt…colder  as his eyes fixated on the lone figure standing in the middle of the room.

The strangely dressed lone figure standing in the middle of the room, who was most certainly not in the middle of the room a few seconds ago. 

A deep green dress like a thick moss on a dark forest floor, with a pinstripe blouse and matching apron.  Dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes were part and parcel of a face that oddly looked both amused and bored all at once.  And the bit of frill and bow on the top of her head seemed to so wonderfully match her attire yet be so terribly out of place in a modern day setting. 

She looked like a maid.  An old-fashioned maid.  A very lost old-fashioned maid, considering that there were no buildings nearby that were large or rich enough to need to hire one.  

“My….employer…” There was surprisingly nothing strange or unusual about her voice, “…is rather anxious tonight, so I had hoped to present to him the items I had ordered.  If you happen to have them ready, of course.”

“Y-yes…Yes.  You…you wouldn’t happen to have come alone, Miss Jackson, would you?”

The girl smiled wistfully.  “Are we ever truly alone?”

Mr. Vance visibly gulped.  “Right…of…of course not.  I-I-I got your package right here.  Oh..Michael?”

Mike tore his eyes away from the woman back to the shopkeeper.  Mr. Vance’s demeanor seemed….suddenly different.  His face had gone a little pale, and there was an almost imperceptible waver in the way his voice cracked.  

“Would you…would you mind waiting a bit while I wrap up Miss Jackson’s items here?”

“Uh...Yeah, no problem.”

“Thanks.”

Mike headed over to where Karen had been curiously watching the whole exchange. 

“Is there a costume party we weren’t invited to?” He asked her jokingly, earning a smile.

“She looks…kind of familiar.  Like I’ve seen her around…just…not in that getup.”

“Yeah…I feel like I’ve seen her around, too.   But I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her before…”

She turned back to the animation device….and found it….spinning.  Ever so gently. 

The painted crows began to flap their wings, rhythmically in time with the cylinder.

But then…faster.  And faster.  And furiously faster still, until the image was a seamless representation of the act of flying.

“Mike….” Karen said, the nervousness clear in her tone.  The device was not electronic, yet seemed more than willing to move completely on its own. 

Even he was a little hesitant to touch it, yet his mind was made up when he could feel the warmth of her fingers clinging to his. 

Clap.  His hand clamped down on it.  When he let go, the device obediently remained still. 

“Heh.”  Mike’s laugh was more nervous than amused.  Karen’s hand squeezed his again.   “Must be off balanced or something.  Speaking of spooky, though, did you check out the way Mr. Vance was- ”

“Are you going back to the cliffs?”  The voice behind him interrupted.

Mike spun around to find himself face to face with the strange woman.  Up close, it was more obvious that she couldn’t have been more than a few shades older than either of them, despite her rather timeless attire.

“Yes….we are…” Karen anxiously responded, “But how did you know that?”

“I’ve watched you go up there.  The house I stay in happens to be nearby.”

“Where?” Mike butted in, “The only buildings up that way are all abandoned or mostly destroyed.  It would be kinda hard to live in any of them.  It’s pretty much a ghost town.”

“Yes…” The woman said, a faint smile on her lips. “Yes, you’re right.”

He couldn’t tell what she meant by that.  Was she saying that she wasn’t living in any of those buildings?

Karen coughed. “Um.  Well I like your dress.  The green looks very pretty on you.”

“Oh thank you.  I think so too.   It also makes my employer uncomfortable and likely brings up awkward memories for him.  Which is the other reason why I wear it.”

He and Karen exchanged a funny look.  He couldn’t tell which was odder, the fact that she purposely wore something just to make her employer uncomfortable or the fact that she just casually dropped this information to complete strangers like it was a normal subject to talk about. 

“Miss Jackson?  Your items…”  Mr. Vance interrupted. 

“Of course.” 

The shopkeeper seemed to hesitate as he handed her a bag full of several individually wrapped parcels. 

“One of these…you do know one of these things on your list is…”

“Illegal?” The young woman didn’t mince words or even flinch, which is more than what Mr. Vance did in response, “Technically it’s not, if people only bother to read the law anymore.  But yes. I’m well aware. But as you are quite aware, my employer is not concerned with legal matters…Anymore.”

“…I’m well aware.” He softly said.

“Will I see you later then?”  The young woman said as she turned to leave.

But Mr. Vance kept his head turned away from her and firmly on a broken clock in front of him, eventually squeezing his eyes shut as though he could will her away.

“…Have a good evening then, Mr. Vance.”

“…Same to you, Miss Jackson.”

Before she left the shop proper, the woman turned one last time to Michael and Karen.

“By the way…Tom Sawyer’s road is the faster way back to town if you’re coming from the cliffs.  And if you’re ever caught in an unfortunate rainstorm, please do stop by.  You’re more than welcome to hide under our awning.”

“We...never go to the cliffs on a rainy day.”  Karen said.

“Never say never,” With the twist of a tiny smile, the woman left the shop.

The atmosphere grew quiet. 

~~~

And it remained silent for a solid minute.

“…Hey Karen?  You can get our stuff, right?”

“Wha-?”

Before she knew it, Mike had just thrusted the twenty in her hands and ran out the door.

“Hey…Mike!”

“What’s he doing?” Mr. Vance said, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I think he’s trying to catch up that woman.  Who was she, anyway?  I don’t see her often enough around.”

“That’s because she doesn’t live in town.  That’s Eleanor Jackson.  ‘Nell’ for short.  She’s up near the cliffs.”

“Where near the cliffs?”

 Mr. Vance handed her two glass bottles of crème soda and a heart shaped package. “I’m sure Michael would be very insistent that you don’t open it until you’re together.”  

Purposefully changing the subject.

“…And you said that women asked for something illegal…”

“Now don’t you repeat anything you’ve heard here…”

“I…I won’t.  But is everything alright?  If she’s forcing you to do something illeg-“

“It’s not like that.”

It was said so forcefully and emotionally that Karen took a step back. 

“…It’s not like that.” Mr. Vance said, softer this time, “But you should go and stop Mike.  Nothing good will come of him following after Nell like that.”

Package and soda in hand, she started to do just that.

“Karen.”

She paused.

“…Don’t always trust Nell.  She often only gives you half of the truth.”

With that statement freshly turning in her head, Karen went out into the alley looking for Mike.

He didn’t get very far; right around the corner he looked up at her sheepishly from the ground, while a friendly face tried unwind a long bit of fishing line. 

“I tried catching her, but…”

“I think I ended up catchin’ a young ‘un instead.”  Mr. Mortimer flashed a grin at her before untwisting the hook from Mike’s jacket, “You ain’t quite the fish I be looking for, lad.”

Mr. Mortimer was a fisherman.  Probably by trade, too, as that’s the only thing she’s ever seen him do.  He always had a fishing pole in one hand, his trusty (but peculiar looking) tackle box in the other, a smile on his wrinkled face, and a song on his lips.  Very few people in town could ever say that they hated the man, even though he did always smell like fish. 

He was also frequently wet, as he claims he never had good balance and constantly fell in.  She had no doubts about that.  The sight of him trudging around soaked in the frigid air….She often felt freezing just looking at him….

“Are you alright, Mr. Mortimer?” Karen said, offering to help him up.  His hands were cold as usual. 

“Aye I’m alright, I’m alright.  No harm done,” With Karen’s help, he stood steady on his feet again, “But tell me young ‘un, what had you such ‘n a hurry?  Who were ya chasin’ after?”

“Some lady we saw at the shop.”

Mr. Mortimer flashed him a joking grin.  “Chasin’ after another while you got your young lady here?”

Karen snorted.

“Hey! No! That’s not what I meant! Karen!” Mike didn’t find it as amusing as they did, and gestured her to help him out.

“Mr. Vance said her name is Eleanor Jackson.”

Mr. Mortimer’s eyebrows rose in recognition. 

“You know her?” Karen asked.

“Aye.”

“Did she come down this way?” Mike said.

“Sorry, young ‘un, I didn’t see anyone but yourself.”

“But I could have sworn she turned here…”

“She be a sweet girl, no doubt.  But you’re best off not followin’ her home, for your own good.”

“Mr. Vance said something like that…” Karen said.

“He be a smart one.  Is he in today?”

They nodded.  Before they could say anything else, Mr. Mortimer bid them good day and went off to the shop. 

“Mr. Vance didn’t want to answer any questions about her either…”

“Everyone’s acting funny about her.  I don’t get it.”

“Well…let’s not worry about it anymore.  I really want to go to the cliffs tonight before it gets too dark,” She shook the heart shaped parcel slyly, “What’s in the box?”

“Three guesses,” Mike grinned.

“Hmmm,” She held it up to her ear and closed her eyes, as though she could somehow divine the answer, “Caramel chews, sour worms and…black licorice gummy bears?”

“Right on all three counts!”

“Do I get a prize?”

“Do I count?  Or are you still mad at me because I went ‘chasing’ after someone else?”

“I guess I can forgive you,” She said coyly, giving him a peck on the cheek.

They walked off together, hand in hand, too distracted with each other to notice the growing storm clouds overhead….

Storm clouds the weatherman never predicted.

Storm clouds that never moved from their position above the woods that led up to the cliffs.  

[queenlnss-a]

MAIN  VERSE  :  Post - apocalyptic    (  tag  ). AGE  :  Twenty - two  years  old    (  default  ). FACE  CLAIM  :  Dianna  Agron,  Stana  Katic. TRIGGERS  :  Zombies,  violence,  gore,  sexual  content,  death,  alcohol  consumption,  expletives,  weapon - use    (  firearms,  knives,  etc.  ).

P O I N T S    O F    I N T E R E S T

This  verse  generally  follows  canon  up  until  SEASON  THREE.  canon  divergence  starts  at  around    ‘  Hold  On  to  Sixteen  ’    when  the  virus  arrives  in  Lima  after  their  sectionals  performance,  and  that  is  where  my  main  verse  picks  up  and  begins  to  deviate.  Please  note  that  even  though  it  does  follow  the  initial  guidelines  of  canon  and  some  events  are  mirrored,  for  the  most  part,  it  is  completely  headcanon - based  and  VERY  canon - divergent.

Quinn  is  a  LEADER  of  her  own  operative  team  by  her  own  right,  and  has  been  for  a  good  few  years  now.  despite  the  fact  that  she  may  not  physically  be  the  strongest  fighter    (  though,  heaven  knows  she  tries  ),    she  is  in  that  position  due  to  her  background  in  team  leadership  and  her  ability  to  remain  professional  in  a  potentially  emotional  /  sensitive  situation.

The  camps  first  opened  nationwide  on  June  3rd  2014,  three  years  after  the  virus  initially  broke  out.  She  currently  resides  with  most  of  her  surviving  classmates  at  Base  Camp  Three.  Her  cabin  is  shared  with  Santana  and  Brittany,  but  she  moves  into  her  own  cabin  with  Sam  much  later  on  down  the  line.

Despite  there  being  many  theories  and  conspiracies,  there  is  no  real  certainty  as  to  how  the  virus  broke  out.  Even  now,  after  all  these  years,  nothing  has  been  confirmed  as  the  lab  assistants  at  the  university  in  Albuquerque  were  the  first  to  die  and  the  government  has  since  fallen  to  ruin.  Any  reason  given  is  most  likely    s p e c u l a t i o n .

A R C S

BEFORE  :  From  ages  16 - 17.  before  the  apocalypse,  there  was  just  a  world,  and  she  was  just  a  girl,  and  there  was  nothing  on  her  mind  except  for  mindless teenage  worries.

NOW    (  default  )  :  From  ages  18 - 35.  the  time  is  now,  and  to  live  you  must  fight.  its  every  man  and  woman  for  themselves,  and  only  the  STRONGEST  can  survive.

AFTER  :  From  ages  36  and  onwards.  she  is  older,  the  world  is  weary,  and  the  undead  are  almost  controllable.  Her  guard  is  never  let  down,  but  there’s  a  familiarity  in  the  earth’s  steady  movement.  it  might  just  be  okay.

H I S T O R Y

THE  DAY  THE  DEAD  BEGAN          to  rise  from  their  graves  is  called  the  RECKONING.  Hundreds  of  people  died,  and  as  the  virus  began  to    s p r e a d,    hundreds  turned  to  thousands  and  thousands  to  millions.  Blood  spilled  across  the  land,  dark  and  congealed,  old,  but    blood    nonetheless.  At  one  point,  those  creatures  had  been  as  human  as  anyone  else   ---------------   living,  breathing,  FEELING.  They  were  people,  and  now  they  were  not.  So  what  are  they  if  they  are  not  human  anymore  ?

                    Quinn  didn’t  believe  any  of  it  at  first.  It  was  a    headache    that  stretched  on  for  days,  a  nuisance  more  than  anything  else.  Every  time  someone  brought  it  up  came  with  the    r o l l i n g    of  eyes  and  the  tutting  of  a  naive  tongue.  She  didn’t  believe  because  she  wasn’t  given  a  reason  to.  The  drills  in  school  were  taken  as  a  joke,  and  the  news  could  so  easily  be  faked.  She  was  SCEPTICAL,  but  it  didn’t  mean  that  she  wasn’t  afraid.  Her  best  friends  were  talking  about  the  possibility  of  dying,  some  even  going  so  far  as  to  mention  their  own    funerals.    They  were  miserable  days,  grey  and  foreboding,  everybody  just  waiting  around  for  something  to  happen.

                                                                 And  then  it  did.  

                    They  were  still  running  on  the  high  of  winning  Sectionals  the  week  before,  and  with  Christmas  coming  up,  they  were  in  a  HAZE of  festivities.  It  was  like  sitting  on  a  roller  coaster,  watching  it  go    up  and  up  and  up    and  then  teetering  on  the  edge  until  the  cart  finally  tipped.  When  the  virus  arrived  in  Lima,  they  were  prepared,  but  nobody  knew  what  they  were  supposed  to  do.  The  world  had  seemingly  frozen  and  by  the  time  it  started  moving  again,  the  damage  had  already  been  done.  

                    During  the  early  days,  there  was constant  chaos.  Of  course,  it  was expected.  No  one  had  ever  witnessed  something  of  this    magnitude    this  before.  The  air  very  quickly  turned  PUTRID,  and  though  there  was  no  time  for  riots,  there  were  lootings  abound.  Shops  were  emptied  of  the  most  basic  of  necessities,  people  going  back  to  their  animalistic  roots,  and  Quinn  watched  it  all  happen  with  wide,  scared  eyes,  and  a  brilliant    fury    burning  in  her  veins.  It  wasn’t  just  their  world  anymore,  it  wasn’t  a  world  purely  for  adults.  There  was  a  new  generation,  and  that  generation  was  being  exposed  to  more  horrors  than  ever  before.  It  was  a  generation  expected  to  grow  up  way  before  their  time.  A  generation  that  would  understand  oh  too  clearly  the  FRAGILITY  of  childhood.

                    She  remembers  the  first  time  she  held  a  gun  in  her  hand.  Eyes  stared  straight  down  towards  her  target,  aiming  and  MISSING  completely,  almost  knocking  herself  out  when  it  kicked  back.  Nobody  laughed.  None  of  them    dared    to  laugh.  No  one  else  had  had  the  courage  to  even  touch  a  rifle,  let  alone  use  it.  They  stared  wordlessly  and  watched  as  she  tried  again,  over  and  over,  until  her  hands  had  begun  to  shake  and  she  could  hear  nothing  but  her  own  ringing  in  her  ears.  Weeks  later,  when  her  aim  had  started  to  improve,  she  prided  herself  in  her  exertions  and  grew  in  CONFIDENCE.  Her  mother  was  gone,  but  she  had  her  friends  at  her  side,  the  only  real  solace  she  needed,  even  when  they  began  to  drop  off  like  flies.  It  was  always  difficult  losing  members  of  their  make - shift  family.  After  all  this  time,  they  were  all  that  each  other  had  and  they  clung  tightly  to  one  another,  scared  to  let  go.

                    It  was    four  years  later    when  the  first  camps  opened  ---------------  the  last  call  of  the  government.  With  the  rest  of  the  world  almost  completely  out  of  reach,  they  were  to  be  the  SAFE  HAVEN  for  those  who  were  still  living.  Acres  of  land  protected  by  barbed - wire  fences  and  a  rotation  of  armed  guards    (  or  simply  those  who  were  experienced  in  combat  ).    Within  months,  hundreds  of  camps  popped  up  across  the  States.  Those  who  wanted  a  community  thrived  together  in  their  new,  SECURE  environment,  while  those  who  preferred  their  own  liberty  kept  to  themselves.  It  wasn’t  ideal,  and  it  wasn’t  home.  In  fact,  it  felt  too  much  like  a  faded  MEMORY  of  what  they  once  had  to  be  true,  but  Quinn  quickly  found  her  place.  If  there  was  to  be  danger,  she  could  at  least  accept  her  brief  tranquility.

                    Maybe  just  getting  by  would  be  the  new  way  of  LIVING.

I M P O R T A N T    L I N K S

timeline  of  events.  will  be  updated  as  they  come.

M A I N S & E X C L U S I V E S

MAINS  :  

AWESOMEGAYDAR      ♡      Santana  Lopez.

DUSKGATHERS      ♡      Michael    ‘  Mike  ’    Chang.

FLORCNTISSIMAE      ♡      Rachel  Berry.

HASRAGE      ♡      Santana  Lopez.

HUNTERSLATTE      ♡      Hunter  Clarington.

EXCLUSIVES  :  

GLORYSTARVED      ♡      Achilles  Pelides.

STRONGOFHEART      ♡      Samuel    ‘  Sam  ’    Evans.

TOPHCT      ♡       Madison  Clark.

UNNWIN      ♡      Gary    ‘  Eggsy  ’    Unwin.

WAESLIE      ♡      George  Weasley

XNJOLRAS      ♡      Marcel  A.  Enjolras.

A D D I T I O N A L    N O T E S

I  prefer  to  play  Quinn  in  her  early  to  late  twenties  rather  than  her  teens  as  I  have  a  better  grasp  on  her  life  and  the  way  the  world  has  developed.  However,  this  does  not  mean  that  I’m  not  open  to  playing  her  younger  as  I  feel  like  the  early  pre - apocalypse  days  are  also  important,  just  that  it  may  not  come  as  regularly.

[gleelistrp]

PARKER ELIJAH SMYTHE ● TAKEN

(+) loyal, compassionate, driven . (-) shy, anxious, insecure.

↪ b a s i c s.

f c  grant gustin. g r a d e   sophomore. a g e   16. s e x u a l i t y  gay. r e l a t i o n s h i p s t a t u s   single. k n o w n a s   the wallflower.

↪ s e c r e t s.

TW: Abuse

It was only very recently that Parker came out of the closet. Part of him had thought he should tell his brother over the years, but he just wasn’t sure how to even bring the topic up. Even if he did accept him, what if no one else did? He heard all those horror stories about the way some people treated others just because they were gay… he was terrified of giving people another reason to think he was too different or weird. Of course, now that he’d come out he’d realized that he’d worried for nothing. He should’ve known his brother would be accepting and his parents simply didn’t care because when had they ever, really? But what he’d left out was that his ex girlfriend who he’d dated for two months before coming out (and the only relationship he’d ever been in) had abused him the entire time they were dating. How was he suppose to admit that part? Guys weren’t suppose to get beaten by their girlfriends, right?

Parker has a lot more anxiety about relationships than he lets on. What if everyone around the school wasn’t as accepting about him being gay as the news spread? How on Earth was he suppose to navigate the world of dating now that he was actually allowed to be himself? What if he got a boyfriend and they treated him the same way his ex girlfriend did? What if people only wanted to date guys were more experienced than he was? What if he just wasn’t good enough for anyone?

↪ h e a d c a n o n s.

TW: Anxiety

As far back as Parker could remember, he was given anything and everything anyone could ever want. He was constantly showered with attention and praise for every single thing that he did, and he was constantly told that he was the light of his parents lives… everything they ever wanted. But the truth of the matter was that he rarely ever saw his parents to hear that, and the constant praise and attention was always coming from nannies, maids, and butlers. It was so rare that he saw his mom and dad that he wasn’t sure if they loved him and were just that busy, or if his parents didn’t want him because they dreamed of having a son to play catch with on the weekends or bake cookies with for a school bake sale, they just wanted a doll to dress up and parade around so that they would give off the illusion of being the perfect family… and somehow ended up with more than one. How was he suppose to know the answer to that question when his parents were never around to answer it? When they weren’t at a fancy party, or attending an important event, Parker never even saw his parents. They were always busy. But he did have a nanny who was like a father to him. Jourdan Wattier. He was hired when Parker was almost five and worked for the Smythe family taking care of their children while they were working until the boys were thirteen. Parker and Jourdan had an unbelievably close relationship, and even after Jourdan moved to London to work for another family, the two remained in touch and just as close.

You’d think that getting everything you could ever want and constantly attending fancy parties, Parker would’ve grown up spoiled, but it was actually the complete opposite. He quickly learned that he didn’t care about things. So he could have anything he wanted the moment he asked for it… what good were fancy things and expensive clothes? They didn’t give him what he really, truly wanted… love, friendship, the things that were really important in life. They couldn’t be bought. While most kids envied his wealth and would kill to have a room as big as his or butlers and maids to do everything for him, he would’ve traded all of it and lived in a cardboard box on the street if it meant having a mother and father who spent time with him or a friend at school. Of course, he had his brother, who he loved more than anything. Then again, most schools encouraged separating siblings and putting them in separate classes so they learned to make other friends…. which wasn’t one of Parker’s stronger suits. He really wanted to make friends, he just never knew the right thing to say to people and always ended up coming off awkward or strange, and it just got worse as time went on. His lack of friends mixed with his fear of being alone started causing panic attacks that usually could only be soothed by his older brother who could never help with them when they happened at school due to the staff putting them in separate classes. This resulted in Parker being laughed at for being even more strange than the kids originally thought, which just made his nervousness worse.

His brother helped a lot, but being teased at school by kids who thought he was odd caused him to be constantly nervous and on edge. He needed something to calm him down. That’s when he started doing theatre. Getting to sing and dance on a Broadway stage was his ultimate dream. His parents had taken him to professional ballets, operas, and live theatre a few times to make sure they were cultured, and he’d really enjoyed watching the performers up on stage, and noticed how many people there were in each production. He figured if he did musicals, not only would he be having fun, but maybe he’d make friends in the casts of the shows he got into and his anxiety would start to disappear. He quickly found that he had a gift for singing and acting and dancing, and he enjoyed doing it. He convinced his parents to let him take lessons in voice, acting, and dance, knowing it wouldn’t be too hard since he was given everything he wanted all the time anyway. He also started learning how to play instruments such as piano, guitar, cello, violin, and anything else he could get his hands on. He was fascinated with learning everything he could about each instrument, he was fascinated with learning everything he could about everything. He loved reading and despite wishing he could make more friends, he learned to appreciate alone time because it gave him the opportunity to learn new things. Of course, he knew how to behave in an elegant, sophisticated manner due to his upbringing, but despite growing up surrounded by the finer things in life, he preferred to live more simply. As long as he had his siblings, an instrument or two, and a few good books, he was very content.

Despite being constantly exposed to fancy parties and get togethers, he never did develop very good communication skills. His introverted, shy nature usually caused him to have no idea how to talk to other people, which only made his insecurities and anxiety worse. He knew the right things to say when out with important people, he’d memorized that like a script from one of his plays, but when it came to every day conversation with regular people, he always found himself at a loss for words, coming off as awkward or oblivious, or even clumsy. Without a script to tell him what to talk about, he just didn’t know what to say. That was another reason why he was so close to his brother. It was nice having someone in your life that you knew would never judge you and love you no matter what. He was also lucky enough to have adopted a Bichon (who he named Toulouse) when he was 13 and Jourdan left who was registered as an Emotional Support Dog to help him with his anxiety, so he never really felt alone despite not having many friends.

PARKER SMYTHE is portrayed by NICK. He ships chemistry but doesn’t ship forced, incest.