#inspired end-of-year gifs i know. original to death

[beingfacetious]

I bet you're gonna have a really great year. Yeah?

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 1)

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

​GIF: Originally posted by @tavners

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Home invasion. Voyeurism. Implied masturbation. Dream manipulation.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Wow, this took way longer to finish than I had originally planned. My head's been all over the place with trying (and thus far failing) to find a new job. The themes are very different to what I've written before; I hope it reads okay. Please let me know what you think. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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Fate.

A phenomenon that governed every particle of matter within the known universe and even those beyond.

Some considered it a comforting concept that excused them from the burden of decision making, citing: "I'll leave it up to fate." For others the phrase was a cursory, throw-away comment or a romantic line they heard in the lyrics of a song.

The real truth of the matter was that Fate was a trio of immortal beings, goddesses, with sight so potent that they knew the past, present and future of every individual to have lived. The mythology of the Greeks, Romans and Norse hadn't been too far off with their stories of the Moirai, Parcae and Norns but of course, no humans really believed there to be any realism in myths. They were just stories. It didn't matter either way; they existed and had influence regardless of what the majority believed.

For beings such as The Endless siblings, the presence of Fate in the cosmos was not only real, but also something that affected even themselves.

For the King of Dreams, an eventuality had been prophesised long ago by The Kindly Ones that spoke of a bond that was to be forged between himself and a mortal.

Lord Morpheus, in his pride, had tried to be above such a foretelling, even questioning its validity because the notion of a mortal accepting his version of the universe seemed wholly implausible.

But he could not truly stop himself from wondering about you, reaching out to see if he could feel your presence in the minds of the dreamers he hosted.

It wasn't something he indulged in with frequency. More of a once-in a-decade interval. Enough to appease his curiosity.

Of course, this was put on hold during his imprisonment at Fawney Rig.

Morpheus had had much to contemplate during this period. The damage his absence caused to the collective subconscious, the decay of his realm, the loss of freedom and dignity. There was also a chance that you had been born and died in the 106 years he spent in captivity.

What if he was too late and had lost the chance of discovering who you were?

It was a nauseating prospect that scraped and scratched a space deep within his being; bleeding him of his remaining stores of hope that were so significantly depleted after the death of beloved Jessamy.

Despite the nasty emotional wound, finding you was a charge that he assigned at the end of his priorities after his escape.

Recovering his scattered tools, restoring the Dreaming, locating his absent creations, unravelling the mystery of Rose Walker and confronting Desire all had needed to come first.

The latter interaction had left Morpheus with a seething rage that was currently propelling him down the boards of the dock that sit above the Ocean of Dreams.

The dense mist in the air is buffeted by his movements and the only sounds are the tread of boots, the creak of wooden slats and the lap of water.

With each step, the liquid becomes choppier as it reacts to its master's mood and by the time he has reached the end of the dock, the surface of the water roils fervorously, completely in line with Morpheus' dangerous temperament.

The words of Desire's final silken-toned taunt echo in his mind with grating persistence.

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn't I?"

He is loathe to admit there is truth in the question.

There are moments where Morpheus ponders the turn that the relationship between them has taken. How Desire went from being his favourite sibling to someone one shade shy of an adversary. Their faultless adeptness at provoking his temper and manipulating the events that encircle him would be impressive if not for the danger posed to humanity.

The agitated water eventually draws focus to how out of control he and his emotions have become. Morpheus knows he must get them in check, and quickly, for he knows the consequences all too well should he ignore it.

He clenches his fist and swallows it all down, pushing it deep inside his belly until the crackling entropy of the anger is fully dispelled.

Morpheus then sweeps his coat out behind him as he sinks lithely into a crouch. Trepidation nips at his heart and tugs his attention to a sobering thought.

This foray into the water may be fruitless.

You may be long gone and there would be no way of ever knowing you.

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath; he has run out of excuses to not look, even if he is afraid of the outcome.

Long, delicate fingers dapple the surface of the inky ocean. The waves still at the touch, obedient to him with instancy.

He repositions to full height and reaches into his coat to find the pouch of sand stashed in the pocket. A handful of twinkling grains slip off his palm into the ocean, lighting the water it touches to a luminous green.

"Find my soulmate," Morpheus commands silently.

The intention is set. He steps off the dock into the water.

At first, like every other prior attempt, there is no sign of you. Morpheus floats submerged in the tepid liquid, filtering through the hubbub of countless other dreams and nightmares.

Then there is a pull.

It is faint yet indisputable. Warmth explodes in his chest and he groans inwardly from the delicious sensation of relief.

You are alive, and you are dreaming.

A path of radiance appears in the water, a line that shows your connection, and provides a location for him to hone in on.

Morpheus dives deeper without hesitation.

As he reaches the edge of your subconscious, he rejoices that he got a handle on his emotions. He wouldn't want your first perception of him to be one tinged with rage, however unaware you were of him, with your soulmate being the source.

He hesitates for a moment before entering the dream you are in and is somewhat taken aback by what he finds.

A room comprising of four blank walls, a floor, a ceiling and a door. There is but one other feature; a window, and its view is as non-descript and inoffensive as the internal space.

You stand by said window, head turned from him.

Despite being unable to see your face, he sees your anxiety with immediacy. It is an aura hovering about your body, being sucked into your lungs with every fast-paced breath.

You begin to throw glances towards the door. Morpheus filters through the layers of the dream. No one is scheduled to come across the threshold.

The more he observes, the more questions arise in Morpheus' mind.

What was making you so affected? What were you expecting to happen?

There's nothing in the scene that is intended to be unpleasant yet you are reacting in a way that most observers would characterise as unsettled.

Morpheus, despite not yet knowing you, doesn't like to see you this way. His dominant instinct is to end the dream but he quashes the desire to review the bigger picture.

The empty room dream was symbolic of a beginning.

It clicks into place.

What you were feeling, even if on a purely instinctual level, was the anticipation of meeting your soulmate and starting your new life.

Morpheus steps into the frame, just a couple of paces behind you.

You feel his presence instantly, eyes full to the brim with tears as you whirl around with a soft gasp.

You see him.

The tears spill and patter onto the white floor.

Morpheus reaches out, overcome by his need to provide comfort.

You disappear.

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

Morpheus is sat on his throne. He pores over the book he had located in the Dreaming's library a little over a week ago that contains the details of your life. It is something he has taken to doing when the impatience of waiting for you to fall asleep becomes too keen.

Your subconscious has him enraptured, watching it every night as if it is a stage show. Each dream he delves into is like the tug of fingers on a loose thread, your psyche has begun to unravel before him.

Everything from whims to cravings, hopes to fears. Your temperament, the things that delight and irk you. What drives you and demotivates you. He consumes it all with an insatiable hunger.

Based on the projection of yourself that he sees, there is no doubt that he is attracted to you.

All that prior haughty disregard for the Fates' prophecy has been cast aside like a negative thought in a meditation session. Morpheus is a romantic. A believer. He is ashamed to have even doubted your coming.

He wonders if it would vex Desire to learn of him finding his soulmate and by extension, the prospect of companionship, perhaps even physical intimacy or love.

It is all too easy to imagine the sickly sweet grin they would smile at him, shown to be fake by the almost imperceptible contempt glinting in their golden eyes.

Would his triumph drive them to distraction?

It is this smug sentiment that spurs his next decision. He wants more. The next logical step is to find you in the waking world.

He rises from his throne, a sure hand ready to bring forth his pouch of sand when he falters.

Tears pool in his eyes.

His mind is suddenly marred with the memories of what happened in 1916. The agony, mortification and rage that followed. He couldn't go through that kind of treatment ever again and the waking world expanded the risk of it transpiring.

"No," he says resolutely. His sadness turns to resolve, the hard line of his grimace matching those set in his brows.

He will not let the actions of a group of mortals dissuade him from going to you. And besides, he has researched everything he can about you from within the safety of the Dreaming.

He takes a measure of sand and uses it to materialise within your bedroom.

It is obvious from a quick scan of it that deliberate attempts have been made to ensure the space is cosy and calming.

Two marshmallowy pillows support your head. The cotton sheets have been meticulously tucked to avoid drafts. A lavender reed diffuser fragrances the air with a subtle scent. There are no devices or screens visible.

Everything has its place. A coaster supported glass of water within reaching distance. Touch activated lamp in case of emergency. The diary lined up with the back left corner of the bedside table, pen placed parallel in the spine dent. All clothes are in the wardrobe or stashed in the laundry basket.

Morpheus moves to the curtain-shrouded window and delicately moves the dark, heavy fabric to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

The scene is sepia stained from an old streetlight positioned right outside your home. It explained the choice of curtains.

You stir slightly from the change in environment and Morpheus allows the curtain to fall back in place. He remains stationary until your breathing returns to its previous pace. It is imperative that his presence remains undisclosed. He knows that mortals do not take well to home invasion.

Then, your right hand slips out from the duvet cocoon revealing a cushion cut ruby ring on your middle finger.

He smiles exultantly. The similarity between the jewel and his own now-destroyed dreamstone was undeniable.

The Fates were making it transparent.

You were the one.

Morpheus approaches the side of your bed now. In your momentary discomfort, you had moved your head, making your whole face visible to your uninvited guest.

He bends gracefully so his face is closer to yours and observes you with an intent fascination.

Even in the gloom, Morpheus asserts that your features are even more captivating now that he is able to look upon them in person and is certain that if he could guarantee an absence of fear then he would fall to knees and worship you right there.

Fingers stroke a lock of hair splayed across the pillow and his thoughts turn darker still, imagining what he would do with you if he could get you alone in the Dreaming. How he would seduce you with words, and then pleasure your body with his own until you were senseless.

Getting you there would be so easy, all he needed to do was move his hand up and touch your skin and -

Morpheus stops himself, deciding that now is not the time for an introduction. He will wait until tomorrow. You need to rest. It will be quite the revelation for your sweet mortal heart.

Morpheus whispers a promise, "We will be together soon, my precious soulmate."

He leaves after taking one last look at your peaceful form.

When he returns to the Dreaming, Morpheus discovers that the visit has riled him way beyond what he thought possible.

It was supposed to sate his curiosity and answer some questions.

It has done the opposite.

His craving for you is sublimely intense, opiate-like in its ensnarement.

He needs to possess you. To have you all to himself. Everything would fall into place. Loneliness, disillusionment, jealousy; they would never darken his outlook again. You would heal him, he is certain of it.

He paces restlessly in the low light of his private chambers as heat ripples beneath the surface of his being, charging him with pure sexual lust.

He hungers for the moment when you feel the same about him.

For now, all he can do is stand and touch himself while thinking of your face, an act that has been carried out repeatedly in the days since he found you in the Ocean of Dreams.

An erotic idea enters his mind.

Your subconscious is still in the Dreaming; he knows the feeling of it intimately.

Perhaps he could bring you a dream mirroring his own current fantasy.

To give you a taste of what was to come.

A gift that only he could bestow.

The mere thought of it turns him on even more. His back arches and his eyes roll back as he choses the words through which he would deliver the offering.

"Dream of me," Morpheus murmurs breathlessly. "Dream of me."

He repeats the phrase until he is unable to continue, moans taking over the darkened space around him.

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

It is dusk the next day when Morpheus returns to the waking world.

The instant he touches down on the Earth's surface, he knows exactly where to go. The metaphysical connection between you is as strong as the energy pulsing through a ley line.

The city he is directed to is thrumming with life but the side street he stands in has been spared from the furore.

It is fortuitous that he is permitted to be unobserved for Morpheus is struggling now with the urge to get closer.

Providence is pulling him in and also locking him out.

He walks up to the door and then an invisible force makes him back away.

He doesn't even try to fight it.

The Fates hold all the cards. Morpheus is beholden to their each and every whim.

It is surprisingly liberating.

He is dancing in the cross hairs. Blinkered by the tie the universe has fashioned for you.

All he has to do is wait.

The door to the building is pushed open.

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

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd

"Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him."

[gatorbites-imagines]

Apparently I have a twin now, so I'll call myself 'Crow Doctor'.

But can I request a Nightwing x Male Rogue Reader?

Basically, while Nightwing is fighting some other Rouges, he's hit with fear toxic or something and gets knocked out.

Reader being a bootleg medic of sorts, takes Nightwing to his hideout and patches him up. Taking care of him until he wakes up.

When he does, he figures out that Reader is a doctor who patches up and gives aid to the citizens of gotham that can't afford medical bills or insurance. and maybe after a bit, they start catching feelings for the other.

- Crow Doctor

Dick Grayson x Rogue Male Reader

Headcanons

Sorry this took a million years to write Crow, but I hope you enjoy it anyways :3c

Kinda took the rogue aspect and ran wild. Thought since you went by Crow Doctor, a plague doctor would be fun.

You were one of the newer Gotham Rogues, a next gen, as some would say. They called you Cadaver King, because of your start in the city, scattering corpses all over a specific area of the city, like you were marking your territory.

You wore something mildly inspired by plague doctors, only furthering your image as some kinda wacky insane doctor. No ones ever actually seen you carve people open for fun, but the rumors run rampant and keep normal criminals and gangs out of your territory.

Sure, bodies would still pile up at the borders of your territory as you slowly grow your area, and you have been thrown into Arkham more than once, but you always get out one way or another.

Unlike the other rogues, you are always able to stay out much longer, because you never just attack the public for no reason. You are most known for the cadavers found around the place stitched closed and looking like science experiments.

The bats quickly figure out that all the cadavers they find are criminals, people who do crime and hurt others just because they can, and never someone who steals or does crime because they have no other choice.

You get some respect from Red Hood for this reason, especially when he sees you targeting those that hurt children, using them in sick experiments and furthering your medical knowledge.

The Bats never figure out that under the surface, you are the backer to most smaller medical clinics around the city. The ones not run by Wayne at least. You are a monster, yes, but like all villains you have an origin story, and yours involves those you cared for not getting the medical help they needed, because they couldn’t afford it.

In your past, you would help anybody you could for free, finishing medical school top of your class. But your less than stellar past caused prejudice in many, and you found yourself used and abused by those above you in the food chain.

It didn’t help that you would steal to support those who couldn’t afford medical help themselves. What finally caused you to snap was getting caught stealing medicine, and instead of just getting you arrested, one of the top doctors in the hospital poured dangerous liquids all over you, scarring you for life and putting you in a constant state of torture.

Seeing so many innocent people die because of greed, and seeing your superior laughing as you writhe and wail in pain, is what breaks you. He ends up the first of your many cadavers, his body splayed out in his own operating theater.

Its only a very long time later that people discover just who’s doing all this killing, since so much death and murder happens around Gotham. It’s the fact that they have all been cut and stitched up professionally that clues the Gotham Police in on it being the same guy.

Then you start making a name for yourself, you start fighting the Bats, you target public figures, leaving their bodies hanging from their mansions or workplaces. All whilst wearing your plague doctor mask.

You have even done procedures on multiple of the bats over the years, never anything that could kill them, and it always ends up being stuff that helps them in the long run. They don’t know that though, they just think you are a psycho that likes to cut into people.

All the backstory aside, its this that leads to you hanging around in the shadows and observing as the Bats are fighting the latest Arkham escapees. Scarecrow has pulled himself into your territory, and whilst you like Jonathan, and have worked together many times, it still annoys you.

Seeing Nightwing go down because of fear toxin also makes your blood boil. Mainly because, unlike Jonathan who only seemed to care about fear, you were still a doctor at heart, and you knew how much fear toxin could harm the body, having treated many patients in the past.

That’s why you end up chasing Jonathan out of your territory, wielding different surgical tools and other blades on your person.

Returning to the rooftop with the passed out hero, you don’t even have to think about throwing him over your shoulder and bringing him to one of your many, many, medical studios around the city.

The only people who has more hideouts than you is probably the bats, and yours are definingly more medically equipped than theirs. You never know when youll find a patient, or how quickly they need treatment, so of course you and your lackeys have as many treatment areas as possible.

Theres not much you can do about fear toxin outside of giving Nightwing an antidote and giving him some oxygen to clear it out of his system faster. You stay nearby to observe him though as you work on patient reports.

Normally your lackeys stand for it, all lackeys having above average medical knowledge in general, but you like to check stuff over yourself, just in case. It’s a great way to spend time as you wait, and being productive during.

You have a lot of reports to answer from your lackeys during the night, as the other rogues being out means a lot of patients you need to help. Unlike other lackeys, yours don’t really wear uniforms, meaning they can sneak around without the bats knowing they’re yours.

The only thing that puts them out as yours, is the fact that they all always have medical equipment and first aid kits on their person. You honestly find it kinda funny how the Bats can never seem to figure out your ways, at least not fast enough, as you change up how you do things constantly.

As the night passes, with you waiting for Nightwing to wake up, you end up removing your outer layers. Shrugging off your heavy coat and gloves, even taking off your plague doctor mask. Underneath you wear a compression therapy mask most days, as the liquids the doctor threw on you left lifelong damage.

In the beginning you had been horrified and disgusted by your appearance, but over the years you had come to accept it as a part of yourself. You found out it had a tendency to make patients trust you more, as they knew you had been through something just as horrible as themselves, so you never tried to fix it with plastic surgery.

When Nightwing finally wakes up, you check on him, go through the basics, make sure he’s all there, before you shove him out of your studio. He doesn’t even have time to ask who you are, or what you are doing, or why you helped him.

Going back to the cave, he talks to the other Bats, and they are able to find the injection point where you injected the antidote to the fear toxin, and they can find clues to the treatment you gave him.

You owning an antidote means you are either connected to the Gotham Police, or, you are able to find it yourself, meaning you are a criminal. It puts you on their radar, both as Cadaver king, and as yourself.

The only one who would probably recognize you is Batman himself, since he’s always the one putting you in Arkham, but none of the others have ever seen your face.

Dick finds himself drawn to you in some way, and he ends up hanging out in the area you treated him, hoping to find you again.

Its only coincidence that he ends up in your territory again next time he’s really banged up from patrol and you find him. You are maskless again, compression mask on, as you scoff at his sorry state and drag him to the same studio you used last time.

It becomes a common occurrence, Dick running off to you to get treated. He even starts entering your studio when you are not there, and its only thanks to the sensors you have around the place that you know he’s there, since you don’t give him a way to contact you.

As time passes, he finds himself in your studio for the smallest cut or bruise, just because he wants to spend time with you, and you can’t find it in yourself to send him away since the acrobat has quadruple flipped his way into your heart.

The first time he sees your full face, covered in scars like it is, you can’t help but be gripped by fear that he will be disgusted by you. But instead, he just smiles and looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Its only after you guys have been a thing for a while, that he discovers your rogue status. And it’s because he’s spending time in your studio again, when you come barreling in, in full rogue getup, carrying one of your lackeys who had a bad run-in with killer croc.

Dick just stands in the shadows and watches with wide eyes as you rip your mask off and get ready for surgery. He watches as you bark as your other lackeys to get them ready, and he watches as you save the lackeys life.

Somewhere inside Dick probably already knew who you were, how else would you have access to the kinda equipment Gotham’s biggest hospital struggled to get their hands on. He knows all you do for people, as you guys have talked about it before, and he can’t find it in himself to hate you for the fact that you target the worst scum of the earth and use them to further your knowledge.

Its only after you finish up with your lackeys that you look at him, a sad look in your eyes as you know you guys will need to talk.

Its ends with you two on the rooftop of the building, spending a long time just sitting and talking. Talking morals, personal codes, your past, your future, so on and so forth.

But instead of breaking up with you, Dick ends up pulling off his domino mask and telling you who he is before kissing you. You are both people with missions, and Bruce is the one with the no killing rule. The fact that your experiments have slowed down a lot over the years only helps.

You are great at keeping secrets, and you can never find it in yourself to expose Dicks identity no matter what.

You end up worming your way into Anti-hero status as Cadaver King, since it starts to become public knowledge that you have so many legal medical facilities all over town, and that all your lackeys know medical knowledge to help people.

Doesn’t stop you from hunting down corrupt doctors or those that use and manipulate the weak and desperate, but that’s just how it.

Imagine the Batfams reaction when Dick brings you to dinner at the manor for the first time. They know Dick is in a relationship, and has been for a while. Bruce almost chokes on his drink when Dick shows up with you on his arm though.

Most of the family will accept you though, especially with your anti-hero status. You probably end up getting along most with Jason though, since you guys already got along as Red Hood and Cadaver king.

Expect to become the entire batfams doctor though, taking some weight off of Alfreds shoulders. Even Alfred can get overwhelmed with how many of them there are. Ends up letting you get along well with Alfred though, so that’s a plus.

[book-place]

Anti-Hero

Warnings: tua season 1 spoilers, mentions of killing and death, cursing, mentions of drugs, mentions of heart attacks, drinking, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Hargreeves siblings x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: When you left, all of your siblings hated you, and now you were facing them once more

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

You let loose a long breath and glanced hesitantly up to the tall, menacing building before you. The building of your childhood, if you could even call it that.

To be completely honest, you didn’t even know why you had come back. You hated your father and your siblings hated you, so why would you show up to the man’s funeral, when they would all be there?

As much as you wanted to turn back around and hail another cab to get you as far away from this place as possible, you put on a brave face and pushed the door open, stepping into the vast entryway.

Barely three small steps had been taken inside by you when you froze at the sound of your name being called.

“Y/n,” Allison had her lips parted slightly in shock from where she and Vanya stood at the end of the hall.

You swallowed thickly, “Hey, guys,” You greeted in a voice that was barely even audible to yourself. You toyed with the ends of your gloves nervously.

“Oh, um,” Allison cleared her throat and strode across the room to see you, stopping a healthy three feet away, “It’s so good to see you, Y/n.”

The words were forced, and you knew it, but you gave her a tight lipped smile and a nod anyway.

“Yeah, same here, Y/n!” Vanya called, and you knew in that moment that after everything, she must have been almost as uncomfortable with being here as you were.

If your original gut instinct wasn’t any indication before, then this interaction told you everything about how this visit would go.

The sight of Diego crossing to the staircase caught all of your attention and he snapped something about Vanya not being welcome back before his eyes snapped over to you.

“Y/n,” He spoke in an awkward greeting before skirting past the three of you and clambering up the stairs.

Not only did your siblings hate you, but you just got confirmation that they were also still scared of you. After all these years, when they had grown up beside you and learned how to deal with your ‘gift’, and yet, they were still wary of what you could and possibly would do.

Midnights become my afternoons

You sat on the windowsill in the attic, legs dangling out the window as you looked up at the moon and stars.

“I figured that I would find you up here, Miss. Y/n.” You heard a voice sound behind you.

Unconsciously, you smiled and turned around, “Pogo,” You greeted kindly.

His smile was something that hadn’t changed a bit over the years, “It is so good to see you.” He said genuinely, walking over until he could grasp your gloved hand and squeeze it gently.

He had always been the only one who wasn’t afraid of you. Of what touching you could do to them. Of how painful their deaths would be if they laid a single finger on your bare skin. How without meaning to, you would slowly and excruciatingly kill them.

That’s why you wore gloves and long sleeves at all times, so that no one would unintentionally be hurt by you.

“It’s late,” You hummed when you pulled away, “What are you doing up?”

“Why, I came up here to ask you the same question.” He mused.

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning your back against the wall, “I don’t usually go to sleep until really early in the morning.” You informed him.

“Well, that can’t be healthy.”

You laughed loudly, the first time you’d done so in what felt like many months, “It’s probably not.” You agreed once you sobered up.

Too busy looking back out the window, you failed to notice Pogo glance behind him and give a hidden figure a single nod of reassurance.

The only thing that brought your attention back to him was once he gave you a slight pat on your clothed knee, “I am always available if you wish to speak about anything.”

You smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Pogo.”

“Hey, n/n.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a new voice that spoke as soon as Pogo had left.

“Diego,” You breathed out.

“Listen,” He cleared his throat awkwardly as he shuffled into view, coming to a stop right in front of you- less than a healthy distance away, “I’m sorry about earlier. I just didn’t think you were actually gonna show.”

You smiled tightly, pulling your knees up to your chest, “Yeah, that makes two of us.”

He sighed, dropping down into a crouch before you and looking up into your eyes, “I know none of us left off on a good foot- especially with you- but I want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

Your chest tightened at his words. After all these years of thinking every last one of your siblings despised you for who you were- what you could do- you never thought one of your brothers would be telling you that he didn’t actually hate you at all.

“T-thank you, Diego.” You choked out, eyes filling with tears, “That means a lot.”

When my depression works the graveyard shift

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took tentative steps towards your fathers old office, the one that was supposed to be vacant now that he was dead.

The clattering of objects only got louder the closer you got, and it was making you nervous. Perhaps someone had broken in when they heard that the billionaire was dead? The last thing you wanted was to have to resort to using your powers, because you doubted any of your other siblings would come to your aid. Expect of course, maybe Diego.

“Hello?” You called out slowly when you stepped into the room. At the sound of your voice, a head popped up from behind your fathers old desk with a wide grin, and you couldn’t help but relax slightly, “Klaus.” You breathed out.

“N/n!” Your brother squealed, jumping up the rest of the way and scrambling over to you with outstretched arms.

Alarmed, you took a sudden step back, and he stopped short when he noticed.

“Oh!” He giggled, placing a hand near his mouth, “I forgot about the whole no touchie thing!”

“What are you doing in here?” Your eyes shone in curiosity, pushing down the thoughts that threatened to swarm your mind about Klaus’s first instinct being to hug you.

“You know,” He waved a dismissive hand, “Just getting ahead on my inheritance.”

Despite yourself, your lips twitched upward slightly at the words, “Really?” You asked in slight amusement.

The man’s jaw dropped open and he stared at you with wide eyes, “Was-was that a smile I just saw? Gosh, my memories from when we were kids consisted of you being completely stone-face.” He let out a shrill giggle again, “Though, I suppose I’m now the one that’s stoned!”

Whatever form of a smile had adorned your face immediately fell and you crossed your arms tightly over your stomach.

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

This was terrible.

The silence was painful to sit through. You must have looked like you had an itch with the way you were shifting back and forth on the couch you stiffly sat on beside Vanya.

Nobody was making eye contact with one another, it was just all of you- once siblings, now complete strangers- sitting in a tense circle in your childhood living room.

Finally, Luther cleared his throat and pushed himself off of the couch that was directly across from you, “So, I guess we should get started.” Everyone’s eyes snapped over to the man that had grown more than a little bit over time, “So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad's favorite spot.” He spoke awkwardly.

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison’s eyebrows had shot up alongside yours in surprise.

Luther’s own eyebrows furrowed, “You know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time.” He looked around for anyone to agree with him, only to be met with bewildered looks, “None of you ever did that?”

You shook your head softly, looking down at your hands that fiddled with one another from where they rested in your lap.

Klaus strolled over and began talking loudly, and you sat back and watched silently as everyone went back and forth a little bit.

“Listen up,” Luther tried to reign the family in once more when they got off track, “Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

“Like what?” Diego asked with a roll of his eyes from where he was leaning against a pillar near the fireplace.

“Like the way he died.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open a little as you looked at him, everyone else adorning similar looks.

“I don't understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack.” Vanya piped up in confusion.

“Yeah, according to the coroner.”

“Well, wouldn't they know?”

“Theoretically.” It was clear that Luther was beginning to realize that he had made a mistake by bringing this all up.

“Theoretically?” It was the first time you had spoken up, and you felt a couple of the others glance at you as you did so.

Yet again, your siblings began to bicker back and forth, and you sank lower into the couch cushions, not at all liking the way their voices raised more and more by the minute.

“Oh, isn't it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” Diego’s voice snapped you harshly back to the present and a dangerous silence overcame the entire room again.

You looked up at Luther in disturbance, only to find him already staring down at you. And all at once, you felt your mouth go dry and your throat begin to close up slightly, “You don’t actually think-“

All around you, your siblings caught onto what Luther was really indicating and they adopted looks of shock. Diego let out a low whistle, “That’s messed up, man.”

“Look,” Number one stressed, “I’m just saying, according to the corner, there was nothing wrong with him. With your powers- you could painfully kill a person without showing a mark.”

You hadn’t even realized when you had stood up, but flinched back violently, as if struck, “You think I would kill him?” You whispered with tears forming in your eyes against your will.

Allison pursed her lips and averted her gaze when you desperately looked around for help, making you realize that she was uncertain as well.

“Wow,” You breathed out tearfully, shaking your head back and forth softly before shuffling out of the room.

“Y/n, wait-“

“Good job, Luther.” Diego scoffed and hit his shoulder against his brothers as he trailed after you, “Way to lead.”

I should not be left to my own devices

Somehow, not too long after leaving the living room, you ended up in the courtyard surrounded by your sibling, gazing up with wide eyes at something floating in the sky.

“What is it?”

“Don’t get too close!” Allison called, moving to place her arm in front of you and Vanya, who had your mouths dropped open and took unconscious steps forward.

“Yeah, no shit!” Diego yelled back over the wind, eyes glared against the harsh wind whipping straight at all of you.

Per usual, everyone kept shouting back and forth at one another about what to do, and in doing so, Allison dropped her arm and you were able to slowly creep forward.

Just then, someone fell out of the thing in the sky, landing in a heap right in front of your feet, but everyone was too busy glaring at each other to notice.

“Guys…” You called back cautiously, “Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?”

They come with prices and vices

You sat on the stairs with your head in your hands, still trying to wrap your mind around everything.

At the beginning of the day, you had come back home expecting to say your goodbyes and possibly even make peace with your father. But now, your long lost brother is back, and not only that, but he claims to have been way older than any of you, whilst being stuck in the body of his thirteen year old self.

“Hey, n/n,” Said brother greeted, strolling over to where you sat with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a sandwich.

You linked your fingers behind your head and tried to smile at him, but you had no doubt that it came out as a grimace, “Five.” You greeted.

Before his disappearance, Five had been the only one who truly was never afraid of you. Even if Diego claimed not to be now, you knew he was still slightly wary, and with good reason too.

“I take it things didn’t go well after I left?” He asked, plopping down onto the stairs beside you.

A small chuckle left your lips at his bluntness. Same old Five.

“No,” You agreed, “They never stopped being scared of me. And I never stopped being scared of myself.” You admitted.

He had always been the only one you could tell everything to about yourself without the fear of judgment.

The two of you fell into a silence that consisted of him munching on his sandwich thoughtfully, “You know,” Five spoke up once he had polished it off, “I think the others have always been more intimidated by you than anything.”

Your eyebrows went up, “How so?” You never really saw yourself as an intimidating individual.

“Because you’re so much more powerful than we all are… and the old man knew that.” He stood up and gave you a tight lipped smile, patting you once on your clothed shoulder and disappearing up the stairs, leaving you to dwell in your thoughts.

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

Allison placed a finger over her mouth to signal for you and Vanya to stay silent from where your backs were pressed up against a wall opposite of her.

A large figure in a mask came creeping through the door that you stood on either side of with a large gun resting in his grip, making your heart tighten.

Right on cue, your sister lunged out, kneeing him in the stomach and punching him in the face the second he doubled over in pain.

Quickly, you ushered Vanya out of the room and made sure she was a safe distance away before spinning on your heel to face Allison and the man, the two now throwing punches at one another with the gun discarded to the side.

Without hesitation, you dove at the man and jumped onto his back, throwing him off balance and sending him to the ground.

When he fell, Allison reeled her foot back and sent it straight into his head, effectively knocking him out cold.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, panting and trying to catch your breaths.

“You know, Y/n,” She spoke up, surprising you, “I don’t actually think you killed dad. I would never think that of you. I was just in shock that Luther would say such a thing that I didn’t know how to react. A-and I’m sorry for not saying anything when he accused you and I know I should have-“

“Allison.” You cut her off gently, “It’s okay.”

She visibly relaxed as if a weight had been taken off of her shoulders, “And listen, I know you think we all hate you,” She took a step forward and slowly placed a hand on your shoulder, eyes searching yours for any sign that you were uncomfortable with the close proximity. “But we don’t, I promise you we don’t. You were just always isolated from us by dad- and I’m not saying it isn’t partially our fault- because it is, but we’re not kids anymore so there’s no excuse for how we acted. I’m sorry.”

First Diego with the apologies, Klaus acting like everything was normal, and then Allison. You couldn’t believe that your siblings were actually trying to make up with you.

Similarly to how when your brother first talked to you like this, tears began to form in your eyes and you smiled up at her, “T-thank you, Allison. That- that means a lot.”

She shook her head gently, “I’m just sorry that it took so long for me to be able to say it.”

I wake up screaming from dreaming

You gasped, shooting upright with heavy pants as you tried to regain your breathing and keep it under control.

You have been through this routine enough times to know what to do so well that it’s almost like second nature to you at this point.

“Y-Y/n?”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Vanya's voice. She stood in the slightly opened doorway of your childhood room, where you had just been sleeping.

“Vanya,” You breathed out, leaning your back against your headboard, “What’s up?” You swallowed thickly and tried to seem as normal as possible.

The woman hesitated, “I… I left something here so I came back for it but I heard a scream…”

You let a breath loose and allowed your head to fall back, “Sorry,” You apologized in a whisper.

She shook her head back and forth vigorously, “No, no, it’s not your fault. I get it… I get nightmares too…”

You lulled your head to the side and looked at her, “Yeah?”

She nodded, hesitantly shuffling into the room before slowly sitting down on the end of your bed when you moved your feet for her.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked gently.

It was then your turn to shake your head, “No, no, it’s nothing I can’t handle- nothing I’m not used to.” You reassured.

“Well… I’m here if you ever need anything.”

You smiled softly, “Thank you, Vanya.”

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

“Five?” You looked up from your plate filled to the brim with breakfast foods your mother had cooked for you as you watched your brother swiftly walk by, “What’s going on?”

“I need to run an errand.” He answered curtly, “I’ll be back soon.”

Anxiety began to set in the pit of your stomach, “O-oh, do you want me to come with you?”

He quickly shook his head back and forth, “There’s no need, it could be dangerous.”

That made the fear double inside of you, “Are you sure you have to go?” You saw him freeze in his steps when he heard the worry seeping through your tone.

He sighed softly and turned around to face you, “It’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip, “It’s just… you didn’t come back once. What’s to say it won’t happen again?”

“Me.” He reassured you, “I say that it won’t happen again. I won’t let it. I promise.”

With that, he gave you one last of his rare smiles and continued out of the kitchen.

'Cause you got tired of my scheming (For the last time)

“Oh, sorry,” You mumbled, eyes immediately turning downwards the second you entered the living room, “I didn’t realize anyone was in here-“

“Y/n.” Luther immediately shot up from where he had been sitting on the couch, “No, I’m glad you’re here.” Your quick steps to exit the room paused, “We should talk.” He cleared his throat.

You eyed him hesitantly, “About what?”

“I’m sorry for saying that you killed dad!” He blurted out, cheeks turning red as he spoke, “It’s- it’s just that I was so upset and I didn’t know what really happened so I was creating scenarios that I didn’t even want to come true and-“ He stopped himself and took a deep breath to calm down, “And I know that it’s not an excuse, but I’m still very sorry for saying that you would ever be capable of something like that.”

You stayed silent for a moment before slowly nodding your head, “It’s okay,” You said softly, “I forgive you.”

“Really?” He sighed in relief, “Good, because I was scared for a moment there because I was acting like such an ass and-“

“Luther.” You tried to push away the small smile that threatened to grace your face, “I already said it’s fine, just leave it.”

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

“We’re like outcast buddies!”

You looked over at Klaus with a raised eyebrow at his words.

The two of you sat on the stools near the bar in your living room, sipping on some concoction of alcohol that was no doubt older than both of you combined and would have given your father a heart attack at seeing if he was still alive.

“I’m pretty sure all of our siblings are outcasts.” You reminded him.

He sat there, pondering your words for a moment before signing and swirling his straw in his drink, “No, no, I suppose you’re right.” He frowned a little bit and slumped his shoulders slightly.

“Do you… want to be outcast buddies?” You asked hesitantly, eyeing your brother.

Immediately, he perked up with a large grin, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” He shrieked, “We can start a club! We can print t-shirts! We can invite new members-“

You chuckled, sitting back and watching in amusement as your brother got excited over seemingly nothing.

At tea time, everybody agrees

“Thanks for the food, mom, it looks delicious.” You said sincerely.

The woman smiled softly and reached over to cup your cheek, and you immediately leaned further into the touch. Because she wasn’t actually human, she could touch you without consequence. And though you knew it wasn’t the same as if another person touched you, you still took what you could get because it was all that you would get, even if it wasn’t real.

“Of course, sweetie.” She answered with that wide, kind smile of hers gently removing her hand after a moment and leaning down to place a ghost kiss on your forehead, making your eyelids flutter shut.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

“It’s really weird to look at, isn’t it?” Five asked, walking up and standing beside you, gazing up at the wall.

It was a portrait of you and all your siblings, before Fives disappearance and Ben’s death, hanging in some random of the many hallways of the home.

“It is.” You agreed with a sigh, eyes taking it all in.

The way Five was the only one standing even remotely close to you in the painting didn’t escape your attention. Nor did the way everyone but him seemed to have their bodies angled away from you just slightly.

You forced yourself to tear your eyes away and you cleared your throat, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we never had these powers?” You asked suddenly.

It had been a thought that had been eating away at you since you were at least seven, never having been voiced out loud by you.

“I try not to dwell on it,” Your brother admitted, “‘Cause there’s nothing we can do to change it.”

Despite his words, you allowed yourself, just for a moment, to picture what it would be like. To be able to hug people and shake hands without them having to worry for their life. To not be the scariest, most deadly person in any room you stood in.

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

All around you, walls were crumbling down and falling every which way. Each small piece of flying debris threatening to hit you.

Not so gracefully, you stumbled through the shaking building, blindly grasping onto the walls for support as you watched in horror as the house came apart all around you for reasons unknown to you.

“Y/n!” You whipped around at the sound of Luther, Allison, and Diego each calling your name and you began sprinting in their direction at the opposite end of the hall.

They each took a large step back when you neared though, causing you to pause, despite the fact that you needed to push on so that you didn’t get hit.

“What is it? What’s happening to-“ You began asking anxiously

“What did you do?” Luther’s words and tone of horror made the rest of your sentence die in your throat.

“How could you do something like this?” Allison whispered, and despite all the chaos, you somehow were still able to hear her. Her eyes shone with betrayal.

“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“Dad always said that you only reached the tip of the iceberg with your powers.” Diego was glaring at you coldly in a way that made even your heart freeze, “But I never thought you could be capable of something like this.”

“What-“

“Your powers are to destroy.” Luther hissed venomously, “You can kill everything around you, so why can’t you demolish everything in your path as well with just the touch of your bare fingers?”

Your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, much like the walls around you, “I would never- I can’t even-“

“I can't believe we trusted you.” Allison shook her head and slowly began backing away once more, “We’ll never make that mistake again.”

The other two trailed after her once they threw more harsh glares your way, not even caring as you sank down to your knees in shock, oblivious to the house that was still caving in on itself all around you.

You had nothing to do with this, you had no idea what was happening. How could they think that you did? After everything, all the progress you all made?

Your suspicions that you had first stepped into this house what felt like years ago- when it had only, in reality, been days- were true.

Your siblings truly did hate you.

The Hargreeves 🦹- @lovanitu @your-local-questioning-agender @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @mukbee @i-writes-things @kiyomi-uchiha777

[s10127470]

Introducing.....The Avengers!

Hey there folks!

I'm back again to introduce you all to another upcoming work of mines.

This one is called: The Avengers.

If the name didn't already give it away, it's gonna be based on The Avengers.

The series will serve as a modern reimagining of the team.

Which doesn't like much. But there would be two elements of the series that would really help it stand out.

Firstly, this series would bring the team back to their comic book roots.

I know that sounds a little strange, but remember, the Marvel Cinematic Universe REALLY changed these guys. So much so that most people think of The Avengers as movie characters rather than comic book characters.

And secondly, The Avengers here will be quite young.

Like, in their 20s.

That was because a major inspiration for this series was "The Batman", which focused on Bruce Wayne as a younger, slightly less experienced Batman, whose only been at the vigilante gig for about three years when the series begins.

I always thought that was a pretty cool thing to do, and I always wanted to see that done with other heroes.

Now that we got the basics our of way, let's talk about The Avengers themselves.

For this series, the starting roster will be taking some inspiration from the new Ultimates run, as it would feature both the original founding members of the team and few more additions.

As for who we have…..

Iron Man and War Machine:

Starting off the roster, we the have the invincible armored Avenger himself.

In terms of his characterization here, Tony Stark is going back to how he was portrayed before the MCU.

And before Civil War destroyed his character altogether……

Witty, charismatic, humble, and always looking towards the future.

As you would expect from Tony Stark, he’s the CEO of the renowned Stark Industries.

And since we’re going back to the characters’ comic book roots, Tony is now back to having an actual supporting cast.

He’s got his secretary Pepper Potts, his head of security Bethany Cabe, his personal bodyguard and chauffeur Happy Hogan, and the most shocking of all, his butler and longtime friend Edwin Jarvis.

Another thing to note about this Tony is that he’s back to having Iron Man be a secret identity and using him under the cover of being his other bodyguard and close friend.

As for his backstory, this would be pulled right from Iron Man: Armored Adventures.

Five years prior to the present, Tony and his parents Howard and Maria Stark (who he actually had a good relationship with in this universe, plus they’re his ACTUAL PARENTS) were going on vacation for his 21st birthday.

Yeah. Tony is gonna be 26 in this series.

Unfortunately, their private jet malfunctioned and crashed.

This resulted in the deaths of Howard and Maria.

Tony luckily survived, but he ended up with a shrapnel deep in his chest.

This resulted in him getting his iconic Arc Reactor in order to prevent the shrapnel from reaching his heart and killing him.

And if all this wasn’t bad enough, Tony would soon find out that ownership of Stark Industries would be going to their longtime business partner Obadiah Stane.

And for the cherry on top of this shit sundae, Stark Industries would start manufacturing weapons and selling them off to ACTUAL TERRORISTS.

As you would expect, Tony couldn't stand to see his family’s legacy being absolutely tarnished and tainted by all this.

Luckily, Tony would stumble upon blueprints for a suit of high-tech armor that his father was creating as a birthday gift for him.

And so, with his genius-level intellect, Tony was able to finish the suit.

And this, Iron Man was born!

With his armor, Tony started destroying the weapons manufactured by Stane and stopped the terrorists using them.

Overtime, Tony would eventually uncover two things.

Proof that Stane was the one who sabotage the private jet.

A deed that declared that Tony would be the rightful owner of Stark Industries in the case of the deaths of Howard and Maria.

And so, with this newfound info, Tony was able to expose Stane for the bastard he really was, got him sent to jail, and officially took his rightful place as the CEO of Stark Industries.

However, despite achieving this goal, Tony decided to stay as Iron Man because he liked helping people.

Shortly after getting Stark Industries back, he would bring aboard his childhood best friend and the other hero of this section, James Rhodes, or Rhodey as everyone else usually calls him.

Characterization-wise, Rhodey is loyal, courageous and a man of pure honor.

He and Tony have been pals since elementary school.

After graduating high school, Rhodey would go on to join The United States Air Force, where he would eventually become a skilled pilot.

After separating from The Air Force at age 23 (he's currently 26 as well), he would return home to Manhattan.

Upon his return, Tony offered him a job as an aviator engineer for Stark Industries, which he accepted.

After about a year of working, Tony would share his secret to Rhodey about being Iron Man.

It was a shock for sure but he took it really well.

And he was proud to hear that Tony was using it to help those in need.

After hearing this, Tony thought it was time he needed a partner.

So he created a new suit of armor just for Rhodey.

And thus, War Machine was born!

In terms of what their suits can do.

Both grant it's her users superhuman strength, incredible resilience, and the ability to fly at superhuman speeds.

The Iron Man suit utilizes energy as it's main mode of defense.

It attacks with repulsor rays, lasers, pulse bolts, the unibeam (a special beam that can be shot from the chest), and a massive proton cannon.

The War Machine utilizes actual weaponry.

It attacks with a gatling gun, a bazooka, a rocket launcher, a grenade launcher, and heat seeking missiles.

As for the duo's physical appearances.

Tony has slightly tanned skin, a slim build, blue eyes, long black hair with his frontal bangs from Earth's Mightiest Heroes, and a van dyke beard.

Rhodey has dark skin, a lean and athletic build, brown eyes, dark brown lips, and curly black hair in a crew cut style.

Both of them stand at the same height out of the armor: 6'1.

But in their respective armors.

6'4 (Tony) and 6'7 (Rhodey).

Also, Tony will be half German-American (on his father's side) and Mexican-American (on his mother's side).

As for Rhodey, he would be Cameroonian-American.

And finally for the looks of their suits....

Tony's would have the look of his EMH armor but with the gloves and boots of his classic armor.

And Rhodey's would be the Model 5 version.

Thor and Sif:

Next we have the mighty Asgardian duo!

One thing we need to establish right off the bat is what Thor and Sif are gonna be.

Both of them (as well as the other Asgardians) are going to be legitimately, honest-to-god, mythical beings.

I know these seems weird to really emphasize, but Marvel media has had problems of just not knowing what The Asgardians are.

The comics are definitely the worst in this regard.

For decades, they considered The Asgardians to be mythical in nature.

But come the 2000s, they've been trying to retcon them into essentially being aliens who were made into gods by humanity......

Who also just so happens to use magic and have connection to mystical forces.....

Anyway, as for the origins of the two, it's drastically different from most iterations of the characters.

As many of you, unbeknownst to most of humanity, exist the legendary Nine Realms.

And the most notable of them all was Asgard, the home of The Asgardians.

The Asgardians themselves were essentially demi-gods, possessing physicality far greater than any human.

But the most powerful of them were The Gods.

They possessed far greater physicality than any of the other Asgardians, along with special powers and abilities.

And Thor and Sif were among this group.

The Asgardians were renowned for being powerful, brave and honorable warriors.

And over the centuries, they would start interacting with and helping out humanity.

So much so that they would start to get worshipped by them.

Most notably the seafaring warriors known as the vikings

Unfortunately, this also made them a primary target for some of the most dangerous forces in The Nine Realms.

This really came to fruition during the 970s A.D. with the event that would change The Nine Realms forever.....

Ragnarok.

This event saw The Asgardians going to war against the combined forces of Surtur and the fire giants of Muspelheim, Thrym and the frost and rock giants of Jotunheim, and giant wolf Fenrir.

Those forces were renowned and feared across The Nine Realms for being some of the few beings that could rival and even surpass The Gods in raw power.

The end result of this was incredibly bittersweet.

The Asgardians manage to win and drive off the evil forces, but it came with a hefty price.

Asgard was destroyed and many of their own lose their lives in the battle.

And among those lost lives were The Gods.

However, all wasn't lost.

It was foretold that in a thousand years, The Gods would rise again.

In the year 1999, two particular individuals were born.

Donald Blake in England and Ericka Velez in Spain.

The two lived fairly normal lives.

After graduating high school, Donald and Ericka left their home countries to attend Empire State University in New York City.

Donald was going there to study medicine, while Ericka was going there to study agriculture.

When the two first met each other, it was love at first sight.

And over the first months, they would spend a lot of time together, getting to know each other.

But during their time together, the two had this lingering thought in their minds.

Their relationship felt somewhat.....familiar.

So in this universe, The Asgardian Gods were reincarnated into humans.

Thus, Donald Blake is Thor's new form rather than a persona created by Odin.

And in their previous lives, Thor and Sif (just like in some parts of the comics and in the Norse myths) were lovers.

After getting fatally wounded during Ragnarok, the two made a vow that even in death, their love would continue to live on. And when they would finally be reincarnated.....someway.....somehow.....they would be together again.

But everything changed when during their senior year, the campus was attacked by an army of rock giants.

As everyone flee for their lives, Donald and Ericka stayed back to make sure their fellow college students got away safely.

Unfortunately, they ended up getting struck by the giants, being fatally wounded in the process.

While clinging to what little life they have left, Donald Ericka confess their love for each other and weakly share a kiss.

But as they're doing so, a thunderstorm suddenly appears above them.

And soon enough, the two are struck by a bolt of lightning.

Suddenly, the couple find themselves as true identities: Thor and Sif.

With their newfound power, the couple manage to fight off the rock giants.

Once the rock giants were gone, the couple returned to their normal forms, which were miraculously healed from their fatal injuries.

Along with that, the memories of their previous lives came back to them.

However, they were each left with a weak leg.

Luckily, they were magically given wooden canes to walk around with.

And these canes would serve as the source of their power.

With a single tap on the ground with their canes together, a bolt of lightning would come from above and strike them both, transforming into their godly forms.

Today, both at the age of 26, Donald works as a physician and Ericka runs her own health food restaurant.

But when there's danger around, they always answer the call as Thor and Sif!

Characterization-wise, it's a classic case of opposites attract.

Donald is quiet, laid-back and rather serious, whereas Ericka is loud, boisterous and kinda goofy.

But when they go into their god forms, their personalities are completely switched.

But don't worry, Thor here won't end up like how he did the MCU, where he was more or less reduced to a total joke.

He knows when to take things seriously and he's still an incredibly capable warrior.

As for what they can each do.

Both Thor and Sif possess god-like strength, speed, agility, stamina and resilience.

Thor, with his legendary hammer Mjolnir, can fly, manipulate lightning and wind, and create powerful thunderstorms.

He's also the strongest of the two.

He can also charge his entire body with lightning in order to move faster.

Sif wields a enchanted viking sword and possesses the ability to control all plant life.

She can also manipulate the fertility of plants….and living organisms.

As for their physical appearances.

Donald has fair skin, a slim build, blue eyes, messy red hair, a beard, and stands at 5'10.

Thor has fair skin, a broad and muscular build, long blonde hair, blue eyes, and stands at 7'0.

Ericka has fair skin, an hourglass figure with an average build, blonde hair in a pixie cut style, blue eyes, pink lips, and stands at 5'8.

Sif has fair skin, an hourglass figure with a muscular build, long black hair, blue eyes, red lips, and stands at 6'6.

As for their outfits, they would be sporting their classic duds.

Ant-Man, The Wasp and Goliath:

Now we come to the black sheeps of The Avengers.

It’s pretty sad how despite being two of the five founding members of the team, Ant-Man and Wasp then to get left out in a lot of recent Avengers media.

And if they are included, it's usually Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne because "iT's GoT tO bE lIkE tHe McU"!

But in the series, the Ant-Man and Wasp here are gonna be none other than the originals: Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne.

And accompanying them is none other than Bill Foster, aka Goliath

Yes.....the same Bill Foster that got killed in Civil War by a robotic double of Thor built by Tony.

I still can't believe this is real.....

Anyway, their backstory goes back about four years ago.

At that time, Hank was a freshman at Empire State University, studying biochemistry.

There he would meet and befriend Bill, a sophomore who was also studying biochemistry and would also be his roommate.

Not a long after starting at ESU, Hank would eventually meet his future girlfriend and wife, Janet, who was a junior studying fashion.

Yeah.....one thing to note here is that in contrast to most iterations of the two, Hank is the younger one rather than Janet.

In the present day, he's 22 while she's 24.

And Bill is smack-dab in the middle at 23.

Anyway, the two would quickly become friends and soon enough, become a couple.

Not long after they started dating, Janet introduced Hank to her parents, one of which being the renowned Vernon Van Dyne, the at the time co-owner of D & L Research Enterprises.

During his freshman year, Hank would find instant popularity upon his discovery of a group of sub-atomic particles that gave anyone who used them the ability to alter their size at will, along with granting other physical attributes.

He would named them: Pym Particles.

Hank would officially see his start as Ant-Man right around Janet's 21st birthday.

Her birthday party was crashed by a bunch of robbers, who were holding everyone hostage and demanding all of the Van Dyne's wealth.

Luckily, when that occured, Hank was gone, putting the finishing touches on two inventions he had been working on recently.

When Hank returned to the party, he saw the hostage situation going on, much to his horror.

Luckily, he got the idea to save everyone with his latest inventions.

Those being a special belt that could eject the Pym Particles into one’s body and a helmet that could communicate with and mentally control ants.

And so, with his creations, Hank was able to defeat the robbers and became the superhero Ant-Man.

For the next year or so, Ant-Man was the talk of the town on campus.

With many people wondering who it could even be.

The only people who knew it was Hank were none other than Bill (who had known as the birthday party and would go on to join Hank as Goliath after using some of Pym Particles to stop a collapsing building) and Janet (who eventually found out after about a year into dating each other and joined Hank as Wasp in order to take down The Zodiac, a criminal organization who murdered her father for his research).

Today, Hank and Bill now run their very own biochemistry research complain you: Pym and Foster Laboratories.

And Janet runs her own fashion business: Van Dyne Design Studio.

In contrast to the prior entries, we’re gonna be looking at the outfits of our heroes first.

Hank, Janet and Bill’s outfits would be pulled directly from the designs of Eye-of-Ra-X, however, they would all be wearing visors like in bahy_ibrahim's designs.

Hank has them filling up the eye holes and mouth hole of his helmet.

Bill will have a full-face visor for his outfit.

And so will Janet, along with the same helmet you see in bahy_ibrahim's design, which is obviously a callback to her classic outfit from the 1960s.

The cool thing about their visors is that just like in bahy_ibrahim's designs, they would each have a distinctive colorful glow.

Hank: Red.

Janet: Yellow.

Bill: Blue.

Not only that, but the visors would actually be how they use the Pym Particles.

Which allows me to segway to their powers and abilities.

With the Pym Particles, Hank, Janet and Bill are all able to alter the size.

Being able to shrink to the size of an insect, or grow to the size of a building.

In addition to that, Pym Particles also grant its users enhanced strength, speed, agility, reflexes and endurance.

But there is a twist to this.

In this universe, the Pym Particles actually come in different colors.

And not only that, but these colored Particles specialize in enhancing different physical attributes the best.

The red Pym Particles gives its user the best agility.

The yellow gives its user the best speed.

And the blue gives its user the best strength.

As for the special abilities of each of the trio.

Hank can use his helmet to communicate with and control ants to do his bidding.

Janet has bio-synthetic wings that allow her to fly and thanks to some experimentation from Hank, can shoot blasts of bio-electric energy from her hands.

And Bill, also thanks to some experimentation from Hank, can expand any part of his body.

Kinda like this....

As for their personalities.

Hank is basically Flint Lockwood.

A goofy and eccentric but kind-hearted inventor with an active imagination.

Janet is what would expect from her.

Spunky, outgoing, bubbly, friendly, and sassy.

And Bill is essentially the straight man to both of them.

But don’t worry, he still has his goofy moments too.

As for their physical appearances.

Hank has fair skin, a lean and athletic build, shaggy blonde hair in a curtains style, a soul patch, blue eyes, and stands at 5’5.

Janet has tanned skin, an hourglass figure with an athletic build, brown hair in a bob-cut style, yellow and black lips, brown eyes, and stands at 5’10.

Bill has dark skin, a lean and athletic build, black hair in the form of an afro, dark brown lips, brown eyes, and stands at 6’2.

And finally for their backgrounds.

Hank is Italian-American (on his father's side) and Greek-American (on his mother's).

Janet is Dutch-American (father) and Thai-American (mother).

And Bill is Senegalese-American (mother) and Gabonese-American (father).

The Incredible Hulk and Rick Jones:

Finally, we've arrived at the two final members of The Avengers!

In contrast to his fellow Avengers, Bruce Banner's backstory isn't really much different from that of his comic book counterpart.

For as long as he can remember, life has just been handing him L after L.

From growing up in an abusive family, to being mercilessly bullied at school.

Even when he left for college, he was still always getting pushed around due to his short stature and meek nature.

After graduating college, Bruce went to work at a United States Defense Department nuclear research facility in Desert Base, New Mexico.

There he would meet renowned the Army general (and future opp) Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross, and his daughter, Army soldier Betty Ross, who Bruce would start a relationship with.

After about a year of working there, the United States Army were ready to develop the world's very first Gamma Bomb.

And if you know the Hulk's backstory in the comics, you know how this all plays out.

Fast-forward to present day, Bruce (now 25) is on the run with 15-year old orphan runway Rick Jones, from the forces of General Ross.

There two things to note about the characterization of Bruce here.

He already has control over The Hulk. Which I know sounds blasphemous, but hear me out. This isn't gonna be like a lot of modern media, which has Hulk being Bruce's primary form, only returning to being Bruce every once in a while. Here, Bruce is able to turn into Hulk and return back into himself at will. So with that being said, you may be wondering, what's gonna be Bruce's conflict? Well, the answer is pretty simple. Bruce feels that there's no place in this world for him to belong. Which he already felt for his entire life given that he's been, ya know, everyone's punching bag. But this only got worse when The Hulk was created.

One of Bruce's most defining traits will be his compassion and maturity. You would think that after spending most of his life being pushed around and abused, Bruce wouldn't even bother helping people. But no. He always goes out of his way to help those in danger, despite his reputation. Speaking of which. I forgot to mention this with the other heroes, but status-wise, they're pretty well-known and well-regarded among the public. But in the case of The Hulk......it's a little complicated. In this universe, Hulk is seen as an urban legend, with people not quite knowing what to make of him. Some believe he does exist and see him as a monster. While others just think he's a myth. Back on topic, you would also think that Bruce would use his newfound power to get revenge on those who wronged him. But no, he doesn't. Bruce knows that if he did, he would just end up stooping to the level of the scum who've abused him his entire life. Especially his parents.

Next we come to Rick Jones.

For as long as he can remember, Rick has always been on his own.

Orphaned at a young age after his parents died, he's spent years going from orphanage to orphanage.

Along getting in frequent trouble with law enforcement.

Largely because he was, for lack of a better term, a little shit.

But that all changed when Bruce saved him from the Gamma Bomb.

Rick became a more level-headed, understanding individual.

One of the elements of Bruce and Rick would be their friendship between each other.

These two really bonded over their shared feelings of loneliness and being social outcasts.

Plus, these two really care for each other and overall want what's best for the other.

Rick wants Bruce for finally find his place of belonging, while Bruce wants Rick to finally find a home and more importantly, an actual family.

As for what Hulk can do.

He possesses virtually unlimited physical strength, which only increases the angrier he gets.

That strength of his also allows him to leap to incredible heights and across far distances, run at incredible speeds, and produce powerful shockwaves by clapping his hands together.

He also has a regenerative healing factor as well, allowing him to heal from even the most fatal of injuries.

Also, the angrier Hulk gets, the more he starts emitting a gamma radiation glow.

This glow allows him to actually manipulate gamma energy, specifically through simple bursts.

As for their physical appearances.

Bruce has fair skin, a slim build, messy shaggy brown hair, a five-o'-clock shadow, brown eyes and stands at 5'2.

Hulk has green skin, an broad and extremely muscular build, messy long dark green hair, green eyes and stands at 8'10.

Rick has fair skin, a lean build, messy shaggy reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, and stands at 5'5.

As for their backgrounds.

Bruce is Scottish-American, while Rick is Welsh-American.

As for their outfits, Hulk would wearing the same outfit from the Marvel vs. Capcom series and Rick would be the same outfit done by lunamidnight1998 for their Avengers fan series.

Well that's all for now!

I hope you guys liked this promotion post! And I hope you guys are excited for this series as I am!

The series will premiere next month with a five-episode mini-series, which would establish our heroes and show them uniting for the first time.

And the main series will premiere in either January or February.

Also, one last thing.

My ideal art-style for this series would be done by Anicomicgeek.

I really like his style.

It would definitely work for an animated series.

And in addition to that, it feels pretty reminiscent to the art-style of EMH's art-style as well.

But anyway, I'll see you guys next time!

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Hey, could you do a rottmnt boys with a dragon yokai S/O who's roughly 8' foot, really tough scales, and is a bit of an older sister/mom friend.

Thanks, I love everything you do ❤️💙💜🧡

Thank you for the kind words :)

I've already done 2012 Leo with a dragon Reader, check it out if you want!

Raph, Leo, Donnie and Mikey x dragon yokai Reader

Raph

★ Canonically Raph is six feet tall, so you are taller than him by two feet. The hight difference between the two of you makes him blush. He's not used to being around someone who is taller than him.

★ He's always had to be the responsible one in his family so giving someone to share that burden is a godsend. The first time you showed concern over him getting hurt he froze up because he didn't know what to do.

★ Don't even get me started on when you clean up after him. He feels really bad about making a mess but with his size it is unavoidable, it's something that you both know well.

★ I like the trope of dragons hoarding treasure but imagen your "treasure" being stuffed animals. Hear me out. Just think about him walking into your home expecting it to be full of treasure. Only to see a literal mountain of stuffies in front of him. He'd be smitten.

★ Mom friend head cannons! (Might have repeated some stuff)

Leo

★ Lord knows that this guy needs a mom friend to keep him in line. Remember the episode where he continuesly eats poison? When you found out you dragged him to his room by the tails of his mask and lectured him for about a hour.

★ He's a little scared of you, not gunna lie. Leo would never admit it though. If anyone in his family found out they all would start threatening to invite you over when he's back on his bullshit.

★ He pushes every button you have but it's worth it because he would give up anything for you. And you would do the same. The things you put up with in the name of love....

Donnie

★ At first he hated it when you motherd him. He doesn't need to be babied! Honestly he only hates it because it's a blow to his bad boy image. Later when you start to date he can't get enough, just as long as his family isn't in the room.

★ He has a bad boy image to maintain, so don't try to dote on him in public. If you do you will get a death glare because he can't bring himself to push you away.

★ Similar to 2012 Leo you gotta hide your mystical valuables from him. But unlike Leo's 2012 counterpart he doesn't want to give them back two there original owner. He wants to study any/all mystical items you have.

Mikey

★ Big lady! Please carry him when he doesn't want to get up. The only person who has been able to carry him in the past 5 years is Raphael. He does the grabby hands thing and everything to try and get you to pick him up.

★ The size difference between the two of you is great because you always end up being big spoon while cuddling. This includes making massive pillow forts in the lair to binge watch shows and have lazy days in.

★ He practices drawing dragons in a traditional Japanese art style (also known as ryu or tatsu). Your figure is really unique and it inspires him to draw more inhuman characters.

★ Although he loves it when you pick him up, it can be very scary when you fly high up with him. It takes him awhile to warm up to it, pretty funny considering his future self floats. (that's basically flying, right?)

[ineffable-opinions]

Top 10 BL Novels I Read In 2024

10. Love Supremacy Zone by 화차

Adapted into a manhwa Love Interest Zone, and live action in 2024 Love for Love's Sake which inspired me to watch it. When I started watching the series, I felt that something was off. That I was missing out on a great deal. So, I jumped right into the book. Novel was not only more detailed, the storytelling was so brilliant that it brought about overwhelming emotions – despair, relief, happiness, etc. Going in, I had lots of theories in my head about the identity of many characters including the author-sunbae. I had expected Cha YeoWoon to be the author and Tae MyungHa to be his junior (because of military service) since Tae MyungHa’s life before transmigration and the story of the stalking horse in the novel (which was turned into game) were so similar. Cha YeoWoon is one of the best younger gong (Korean for seme), I have come across in a while. While this one and I, A Gangster, Became a High School Student had older people occupying younger bodies, I liked the latter better. I felt that some of the game assigned tasks were not making much sense towards the end, especially those involving gathering followers on social networking sites. The game system seemed to be acting up as it pleased without much rhyme or reason, which I found difficult to stomach. Extras are really good in this one.

9. Deadlock volume 1 by Aida Saki

Aida Saki passed away this year. While there are other works by the same author that had left a deeper impression on me, this one stands out for being the most political among them all. From prison politics to hybrid identities, there is a lot that the uke deals with as a half-Japanese with a Hispanic upbringing who serving sentence for the murder of his buddy cop in the USA. Maybe the foreign setting offers Japanese authors like Aida-sensei more liberty when it comes to dealing with complex social, political and economic issues, within and outside the prison. Unfortunately, the seme wasn't very impressive - that's an Aida Saki thing, I guess.  Recommended for those who enjoyed Manner of Death, Spare Me Your Mercy and BL comics like Under Grand Hotelby Sadahiro Mika (manga) and Shutline by Kyou (manhwa).

8. Try Me เสพร้าย สัมผัสรัก (ChaiWin story) by MAME

gif by @boosnbugs

The moment Chai appeared in Love in the Air, I wanted to know his story and was super-excited to discover the novel when he was main character. Win fell for Chai in his early youth. Years later, he is yet to move on properly after being rejected by his mafioso cousin's righthand man. Chai is bound by duty. Win and Chai's lives keep colliding. Win returns to Thailand amid situations that force Chai to personally provide him with security. Meddlesome ex-lovers and uncle shenanigans to complete the clusterfuck the start of their romance is set to be. Recommended for those who liked TulHin from the novel Breath or from the series Love by Chance Season 2: A Chance to Love as well as the Taiwanese BL series Kiseki: Dear to Me. Even though I read Try Me (PakinGraph story) before this one, it can be read as a stand-alone.

7. I, A Gangster, Became a High School Student by 호롤

Adapted into a manhwa and a controversial bromance live action High School Return of a Gangster in 2024 which inspired me to read the novel.I was glad for it. The book is an absolute delight. It is pretty different from the live action. The transmigrator and his lover have to overcome many difficulties on the way. I had expected the original soul to take hold of the body the gangster was occupying at the end at least based on certain rumors on the internet. But that was not the case. Even though the body was that of a teenager, gangster was a middle-aged man, with all corresponding life experience and attitude. Author did a good job of maintaining that throughout. Certain parts of the novel, especially the face slapping parts, were very makjang. While I think it was dealt better in the novel than in the series, I wanted something different. While the su was a responsible older person in a teenager’s body, gong was the opposite for most parts. the interaction between gong’s father and su were really nice. I also found the bully’s relationship with original soul versus his relationship our su pretty sad, on both counts.

6. Why? ทำไมต้องร้าย...ทำไมต้องรัก (Part 1) by Yeonim

gif by @pharawee

The main couple in this one Nan (Day’s friend) and Mac (Day’s love rival). Nan is an excellent self-aware psychopath for whom Mac is an interesting plaything. There is a great deal of back and forth between them that keeps readers engaged throughout. Nan is kind of a yandere character, especially when it comes to those whom he wants to toy with. Mac is no saint but his cruelty is warped and oft amounts to nothing when faced with the different issues the couple has to face, marking how different his relationship is with what he wanted with Itt. Meanwhile, both of them dotes on each other. The time they spend in Nan’s house, especially the veranda with the little pond in front, is some of the best I have ever come across in a BL. The side CP in this one between Dew and Three, who were interested in Mac and Nan respectively and bond over that. They go from being comrades to lovers with some Nan’s non-consensual exhibitionism being the trigger. Link to Part 2.

Honorable mentions:

The Missing Piece by Kun Yi Wei Lou I love Kun Yi Wei Lou’s works in general, especially her older works with fantasy and historical setting. Among the novels with modern setting this one and Ex-boyfriend are my favorites. It has one of most exciting tropes – substitute lover! But then there are misunderstandings too. So, things aren’t exactly what they seem.

The university set BL Test Love and salaryman, yakuza BL OatShin Diary by MAME – I read it to read about Oat who is mentioned in Love Storm novel as the best racer and got his illegal racing parts replaced with Prapai in Love in the Air and with Kawai Fuma in Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan. I loved their story the best too. Test Love offers glimpse into Phayu’s campus life as a student of architecture and shows us where his reputation as a famous helpful senior comes from. Test Love also has Phayu’s twin brother and his girlfriend. Many characters from Love by Chance are friends with characters in Test Love and there is a cool seaside vacation get-together.

กูจะร้าย...ให้มึงรัก (GearNight story) by Yeonim I got into novel through the movie Love Syndrome: The Beginning that focuses heavily of the murky start to the characters relationship. The characters we encounter in Love Syndrome III have journeyed through lot of ups-and-downs and the novels are really engaging, especially for me as I love meriba endings a lot. They grow as a couple a lot between the immature couple they are in the novel and the awesome couple they are in later novels (where they appear). The side couple FourGus had a troubled start consisting of an early sexual debut that ultimately left Gus pining and Four repenting. It was one of those when-will-they relationships that stands out in the novel. There are so many couples in Yeonim’s universe, it is overwhelming. Thanks to @mygwenchan for this excellent list of Yeonim’s works.

5. Love Sand by MAME

I have been trying to get into Thai BL novels for a while now with varying degrees of luck. This one had me hooked. Khom, the main character in Love Sand, has been familiar to me through TharnType and Love Sea dropped so many little details of his relationship with Connor. While Khom was great, Connor was the most thought-provoking, to say the least. This work tackled different aspects of sex work - gratification and pecuniary reward, romance and emotional toll, racism, race as fetish, etc. I had previously commented on how certain characters MAME created reads like ethnography. This one takes it to areas that are difficult to talk about from one single dimension alone. Moothon (2019) did intersection right and that's why it is the banner of this BLog. Love Sand gave me a close enough experience. Recommended for audience interested in intersectionality with focus on a white Canadian with Thai-upbringing via doting step-mother of Thai origin, as well as those who love wife chasing crematorium, with significant value gap.

4. 服了生育刑的alpha by 星河蛋挞

An omegaverse story about a remorseless alpha arrested on charges of sexual assault choosing to undergo multiple births rather than spend long years in jail. Even though the novel was written in 2022, it deals with a lot of issues that’s in discussion currently, especially in the West, post-US elections and Gisèle Pelicot’s courageous legal battle in the Mazan rape case, such as reproductive rights, sexual crimes, sexism, righteousness, punishment, reformation along with issues such as sex work and law and order and justice system from cops to courts. The novel is available on patreon.

3. 虎三不哭 (Third Tiger, Don’t Cry) by 间歇性咆哮

This is the tale of a crybaby tiger and his haughty lover deer (all in their animal forms throughout but with human like thought process, motivations and emotions). They have to struggle through the different challenges that nature and nurture have placed in their path. Recommended for those who enjoy older danmei as well as those who enjoy animal characters or characteristics such as in Caged Again and Choco Milk Shake.

2. Mr. Zhang and Mr. Zhang 《张先生和张先生》 by 王泡小泡

I started reading this with plans to write a post on Love in the Big City. This novel has been adapted into live action Kinematics TheoryandThe Ambiguous Focus. This is about a couple who are about to celebrate the anniversary of having spent a decade together. They get caught up in the whirlwind of seven ten-years-itch and more that threatens to uproot not only their relationship with each other but also with those around them. Recommended for those who enjoyed Love in the Big City and its adaptations, and for the fans of Fei Tian Ye Xiang’s 北城天街 (Bei Cheng Tian Street).

1. Utsukushii Koto by Konohara Narise

A gynephilic man falls for a crossdressing salaryman from the same company but different department. While this is not the best work from Konohara Narise, I enjoyed it the most among all the BL novels I have read this year. Recommended for those who enjoyed Mood Indigo, Smells Like Green Spirit or Wait for Me at Udagawachou.

Top 20 BL Live-action of 2024

[drarry-soulmates]

Analyzing the few villains I actually like

Inspired by my Draco reddit post from months ago that got some hate because apparently Draco is utterly irredeemable and the worst-ever villain according to some so-called fans on a Drarry subreddit of all places….. lol…. Some fans were literally mad at me for this post bc apparently I was glorifying Draco or something idfuckn know (it wasn’t even a Draco post… It was literally an obvious Drarry post on a Drarry subreddit… like???):

They were bringing up all the bad things he did that i was apparently overlooking……………… First of all, I know he’s not perfect, i know he’s a bigot. But like ???? Should that be all i focus on? He is far more 3 dimensional than that. And as if I don’t love WAY WORSE actual villains lol……. Sometimes I can’t with Reddit. :i

So I decided to compile a list of ALL the villains* I liked.

*I left out very obvious antiheroes/non-villains, like Light Yagami from Death Note or Venom.

These are literally the only "villains" i like though, since I just don’t tend to like bad characters, which was why originally before reading the books, I did not like Draco becos the movies just made him look like a simple bully.

MY VILLIANS LIST (incl Draco, not in any particular order):

1. Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter:

Kill count: NONE (the ONLY one with no kills on this list…. Irredeemable my ass.)

Redeemed: YES. <33 Tbh, in the original 7 books, Draco is more a tragic antagonist than antihero, since antiheroes make bad choices for a bigger goal or personal gain. Draco's not like that—his story is more about fear and trying to survive, not purpose or redemption.

But apparently some supposed Reddit "Draco fans" & JKR think he is irredeemable lol. :V He’s literally just a troubled teenager. (There’s another troubled teen on #4 of this list that makes Draco look like a literal saint.)

What did he do: Was a giant bigot (in childhood only). Accidentally hurt people in his quest to kill a single person or else his family dies. He could not even go through with killing in the end because bb felt bad. :’| (Irredeemable where?)

Why i like him: He is just such a complex character, smart, canonically a good person deep down (unicorn core wand), only misguided by his family, & so terribly gay for Harry Potter LOL. Oh, and he acts tough but is just a giant softie deep down >///< He just needed a hug. :‘C Was very lonely boi. (He says so in HPCC.)

2. Hannibal from Hannibal:

Kill count: 23 (that we know of).

What did he do: Murder and consume people in horribly gorey, disgusting, wildly creative/artistic ways.

Redeemed: NO, but he’s in a cute gay relationship with Will. lol. So i give him a pass.

Why I like him: he is an interesting guy, super intelligent, incredibly polite (he eats the rude), witty, calm, collected, calculating in an insanely hot way, charming, got style, oh, and really loves Will so much. The whole show was just their dark and literally insane (on Will’s part) love story tbh.

3. Crowley from Supernatural:

Kill count: thousands

What did he do: Torture countless people in hell and kill many others on Earth over the span of hundreds of years.

Redeemed: YES. <33 Lovable King of Hell turned antihero that even the good guys end up missing!! </3 ;___;

Why I like him: he is HILARIOUS, amazing personality, a true hero in the end ;__; Became a softie in the end. <33

4. Tate Langdon from American Horror Story:

Kill count: 15

What did he do: Was a 17 yo school shooter (Draco’s age), raped & impregnated his girlfriend’s mom, set his mom’s bf on fire, and loads of other things…. X:

Redeemed: YES. (but not to the extent of turning into an anti-hero..)

Why I like him: He is sooo sweet to Violet, his girlfriend (who forgave him for raping her mom– yeaaaa that’s AHS for ya!) Their love story was pretty epic, as she made him a better person in the end. He was just so lonely, complex, & misunderstood (only forgivable because he’s fictional THANK GOD!)

But also in the end, we learned that his reasons for being evil was due to the Murder House he was living in, where supernatural forces would amplify negative emotions and encourage malevolent behavior. Tate’s connection to the house and its spirits fueled his evil tendencies, so it wasn’t reallyyyyy his fault. :|

Plus as a ghost, no longer controlled by the House, he did become a better person and regretted shooting up the school. He just becomes a big softie. lol. :3 thankfully he and Violet were one of the few to actually get their happy ending on such a twisted show. :’))

5. Klaus Mikaelson from The Vampire Diaries universe (spoilers for The Originals):

Kill count: thousands

Redeemed: Sorta. He still kills people as a vampire hybrid, but he becomes less of an antagonist & he willingly dies for his daughter.

Why I like him: He is COMPLEX, wild, impulsive, rash, immensely powerful, has an alluring & totally charming personality, witty, hilarious, absolutely fearless, wicked smart, fun, heart of gold (when he’s not tearing people limb from limb). One of the most powerful characters in the series. When he loves, he loves VERY strongly (his love interest Caroline was a very lucky woman…. although he stabbed her in the stomach but then later healed her and they had a moment lol >///<). He is loyal to a fault and ended up willingly giving up his life for his daughter. He was over 1,000 years old.

6. Vaas Montenegro from Far Cry 3:

Kill count: hundreds

Redeemed: not a chance…. :V But that’s what i actually like about him.

Why I like him: he’s funny, HILARIOUS, sexy, batshit crazy, psychotic, super strong, skilled warrior fighter pirate, hot, psychopath just for the fun of it, impulsive, and pretty gay with the protagonist LOL

That's it. Those are the only villains I like lol. Hard to believe I had to explain on a reddit post that just because a fictional character isn’t morally upstanding, doesn’t mean you can’t still love them. Villains tend to be super interesting. Although all but 2 on my list were redeemed. V_V

[hibiscusangel15]

Entity Horror Movie Rec List: The Stranger

The Stranger is an entity that personally freaks me out. I already don’t like interacting with strangers if I can help it, and the idea of a creature completely stripping away all that you are and no one, not even those closest to you, being able to tell the difference is horrifying.

A lot of the movies on this list rightfully feature aliens, specifically those of the shape-shifting or infiltrating society variety, and loss of humanity.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

The original nightmare that threatened the world!

I didn’t put a specific year for this one because honestly both the 1956 and 1978 versions are great movies in their own rights. The ‘56 version is a bit cheesy by today’s standards, but honestly, the first time I saw it, I was freaked out by the concept for days after. It’s still pretty effective, in my opinion.

Both versions depict the fear of The Stranger the best of the movies on this list. The infused paranoia of the ‘78 version is near-perfect for it. Noticing something is wrong with the people around you, but not exactly knowing what is something The Stranger adores playing around with. That and clowns, I guess.

Fun fact: The ‘56 version was originally set to have a more miserable ending, but the studio forced the director to shove in some feel-good end instead. I think the more nihilistic ‘78 version revels in that opportunity instead. It also features a cameo by the main character of the original, so it’s almost a self-titled sequel, in a way.

The Thing (1982)

The ultimate in alien terror.

What is there to say about The Thing that hasn’t already been said? Its practical effects are disgusting, grotesque, and unlike anything that has come before (or since). My favorite John Carpenter movie bar-none. Everyone from Kurt Russel to Keith David to even the dog is so good in this movie.

The main characters getting picked off by a bloodthirsty creature that can look like any one of them at any time makes this movie a paranoia-fueled, tense nightmare and I love it. They work through who among them (lol) might be an alien in really smart ways. It has quite a bit of body horror and nasty practical effects, but I would still recommend you watch this anyway.

Games like Among Us are heavily inspired by its premise (and I think InnerSloth credits this movie directly for inspiration). If you haven’t seen The Thing (1982) yet, I cannot recommend this movie enough. Just watch it.

IT

Listen, a movie rec list covering The Stranger wouldn’t be complete without some reference to clowns or the circus. What shape-shifting, fear-hungry clown suits this Entity better than Pennywise? If you say the Killer Klowns from Outer Space, I stg...

Obvious references to Tumblr’s obsession with 2017′s Pennywise aside, both iterations of Stephen King’s IT are fun in different ways. Tim Curry’s 1990 mini-series Pennywise is a lot goofier while still being off-putting while Bill Skarsgard’s Pennywise leans more towards being sinister.

Both operate like a creature of The Stranger, in that they lure in their victims with something seemingly innocent and familiar before flipping it into something unfamiliar and wrong. Literally the definition of stranger danger.

To be honest (and I think most people agree), the kids’ half of the story is way more fun than the adult stuff. It: Chapter Two’s cast is fantastic, but it doesn’t totally save the latter half of the story being a bit laughable compared to what their kid versions faced. Probably because (spoilers) they literally bully Pennywise to death. Like how can you not find that fucking hilarious what the fuck.

(Spoilers over) Obligatory clown/circus-related movie lol. They’re both set in different time periods, which reflect different kinds of fears of the time. The 1990 version is set in the 1950s/1970s and the 2017 version is set in the 1980s/2010s. I think both are worth a watch, though you can watch whichever you feel like and you’ll get pretty much the same experience.

They Live (1988)

If I had a nickel for every time John Carpenter made a movie in the 80s about aliens disguising themselves as human, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.

All jokes aside, They Live is a horror-comedy that definitely leans more into the comedy and social commentary than horror. Whether you find the alien designs horrifying is more personal preference (I find them kinda goofy), but what they set out to accomplish is still pretty relevant today.

Even the regular humans in this movie fail to trust each other or are immediately shut down when they try. It also has one of the LONGEST fight scenes I’ve ever seen in my life (it’s kinda hilarious how long it goes on tbh). Definitely recommend if you need something light to start off with.

Under the Skin (2013)

“You don't want to wake up, do you?”

I will admit, Under the Skin is an artsy film that will not be to everyone’s tastes, but I think it’s accessible enough for those new to horror to try out, too. It definitely requires subtitles if you have trouble understanding thick accents, though.

Under the Skin is about an alien disguised as a human woman luring unsuspecting men to her domain. What ends up happening to them is something I don’t want to spoil. The imagery is so haunting and surreal that it’s hard for me to describe, anyway.

I also think it’s an interesting look into what an alien (or in TMA, any Entity-born creature) might do if it wanted to look beyond its purpose and join humanity. Think Agnes Montague if she was an Avatar of The Stranger instead of The Desolation, I suppose. It’s as tragic as it is unsettling.

END

That’s it for The Stranger! Most of these are classics that most people have seen, but I still feel like these are very fitting.

If you guys want a Part 2, I could definitely delve into movies that dive more into Uncanny Valley territory. I want these rec lists to be more a crash course into horror rather than digging deep into the weirder stuff I’ve seen (just yet).

More Entity rec lists:

The Eye

[queenie-official]

✨Behind the scenes ✨

‘Summer Love’ series masterlist

alright so i decided to release the behind the scenes early since i hardly got anything for the q&a event lol

so without further ado here are a bunch of cut dialogue concepts and how scenes were originally going to go✨ as well as some other cool things:

from part 1, breakfast reveal scene:

“honestly shocking the Directors didn't catch wind of anything." Well that's not good but it can't be that bad?

it very much was that bad. she not only lied about small things like her birthday, how many siblings she had and about her ethnicity. but she also lied and spread rumors around about several of the other girls at camp that were pretty damaging. one of the lesser rumors was about a girl she said was a slut who slept around with all of the guys on camp.“

this was originally how Jasmine’s backstory was supposed to go, i had based her off the guy my bestie fake dated (which is what inspired this whole fic i’ll go into details later)

and this was some of the stuff he did which was fucked up but not messed up enough for me lol i wanted Jasmine to be like as close to a real life villian as possible (hence the outing of a older camper)

from part 2, opening scene:

“you drop the act when you turn to close the door behind you smiling brightly at her and sharing one last laugh. Unfortunately for you the moment is soured when you physically bump into someone else.

"oh my gosh i'm so sorry i-" you cut yourself off when you look up and see who it is. you and padme were often so much in your own world that it was easy to forget there were three of you assigned to the cabin, said third member was giving you the death glare.

if looks could kill you were sure you'd be slaughtered on the ground right now. "sorry" you push out, even though you hated Jasmine it's not like you lost your manners. she doesn't say anything, just snarls and steps back slightly.

there's a silence before she finally says something "are you going to get out of the way or what" you swallow and step past her. she doesn't spare you another glance as she walks into the room. anger burns under your skin but you persevere, pushing it down and letting it fizzle out before continuing your original mission of showering for the day.”

i ended up scrapping this whole part of the scene, it just felt unnecessary to add in my mind; especially when i realized as much as i wanted jasmine to have a bigger role in the fic i didn’t want her to be a antagonist for the reader. at least not in the way this would of solidified her, after all i wanted this to be more fluff than angst lol.

from part 2, the favorite camper scene:

“Anakin scoffs at Ben's answer. "forget that, she's also the coolest camper there is. my first year with her in my group she helped me sneak a bunch of " he cuts himself off only because he spots Windu walking past you guys.

he clears his throat once Windu is far enough away. "we broke into the Kitchen after hours and stole a whole case of pudding cups. snuck them into our cabin and hid it. the Kitchen staff was so mad and confused the next day. Ahsoka and I played innocent and helped ourselves to as many pudding cups as we wanted till we ran out" Anakin snickered.”

this was going to be what Anakin had said to answer readers question about Ahsoka being his favorite camper, i scrapped it because it felt lame 😭 and also seem more like something between two campers rather than a camper and a counselor. which is why our poor curly blonde boy doesn’t get to speak at the end of the scene 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯

part 3, late night walking scene:

“"hey me and Ben live together too, we got an apartment just a few months ago" you hold your shoes and socks in your hand as you walk in the shallow water, a small content smile on your face.

"you know, when i was talking to Honey about you guys and she saw a photo of Ben; she found him super cute. even wanted to reach out to him but realized it'd probably be to weird"”

so as you can tell i had originally planned on Ani and Ben loving together like Honey and Reader do; i decided against it when i thought the parallels between the four of them would be too similar

also wanted to expose Honey’s interest in Ben sooner with the intentions of Ben going into meeting her knowing she liked him, but decided against it the end. which worked out since we got that cute scene i wrote with Ben being flustered meeting her 🤭

part 3, possible bonus end scene dialogue:

“"oh my anxiety ridden, true crime obsessed bestie, how i've missed you."”

welp it’s pretty obvious i didn’t get far with this one 😀 so initially i had planned on including a bonus scene where Reader and Honey finally reunite after reader gets home and this was going to be her greeting dialogue to Honey.

scrapped it in favor of the bonus scene with Honey meeting everyone✨

so i’m not sure if anyone picked these up but i did make a few references at the end of the series 😋😋 so ima point them out just so it gets the attention it deserves✨

so to start us off the first reference made is a hamilton one for us theater girlies 💪💪:

“whoever said in the eye of a hurricane there is quiet for just a moment was a liar- or you'd yet to reach that brief moment of respite.”

fun fact this wasn’t even the original reference, initially it had been a lot more direct. but it honestly felt out of place which is why i changed it- here’s the original, you’ll see what i mean

“mess as you move to lay on your stomach, opening your phone to text Honey. when Lin Manuel Miranda said in the eye of a hurricane there was quiet for just a moment he wasn't kidding”

out of place in the sense readers mind was very much not quiet yet 😭 sis was still going through it

anyway the next reference is a Julie and the phantoms reference 🤭:

“he holds his hand out and you feel your heart hammer in your chest as you take it without hesitation. and when he intertwines his fingers with yours you think you may just faint. this was different, not a sole around to see you two and yet here you both were.

"this is an interesting little relationship you and i have" he jokes and you can't help but giggle. he swings your hands beside you both as you guys walk. bright smiles that could outshine the sun on your faces. an interesting little relationship indeed.”

guess what, i’ve never seen Julie and the Phantom’s 😗 so why may you ask did i think to use this? easy it twasnt me 😌 it was Bestie @everydaydreamer

so everyone give a round of applause and thank yous for this scene to Ren 🥰

next up we have a harry potter reference (no i do not support JKR but i did grow up with the movies and have love for them im sorry 😭):

“one that you mutually had acknowledged last night without actually discussing it. "mooorning" Ben greets you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as you sit beside Anakin. taking a long dramatic sip of his water before sending you both a wink. Anakin wasn't paying much attention as usual.”

it felt to perfect not to include!! i can so see Ben doing this the same way George did to Ginny and Harry✨

and lastly, completely unintentionally might i add (thanks to my bestie @munsondjarin for pointing out this accidental parallel) we’ve got a ROTS reference💃:

“"you know when i was younger, my mom would take me and my stepbrother camping with Ben's family all the time." he shifted you in his hold as he extended his own roasting stick over the fire, carefully twisting it as he roasted his marshmallows. "and i still remember the first time i was finally allowed to roast my own marshmallows. i burnt them to a crisp"

"how'd you manage to do that?" you laugh and he smiles against the back of your head, continuing to twist the stick in his hand. you follow his lead twisting your own as he spoke again.

"well for starters i was like 9 and ornery." his voice was low, it rumbled in chest and against your back. "and i was so focused on trying to mess with Ben that i forgot i was even holding a marshmallow over the fire to begin with. the worse part was they all saw the marshmallow on fire and didn't say anything! not even my own mother" you bite back a laugh, poorly as he can very much tell you’re laughing at him.

"my first betrayal- she'd said it was the natural consequence for messing with Ben. she was right of course but i still got upset and threw a fit" you mumble a quiet 'bratty' under your breath and he gently pinches your side making you giggle.“

i think it’s safe to say we all know what specific scene this reminds us of 👀

*cough* *cough*

next i have just some fun details to share💋

when coming up with the campers for Naboo cabin i also came up with names for all three of the main cabins mentioned✨

i even pre assigned which counselor was assigned to each camper.

📖= reader ⛈️= Jasmine 👑= Padme 🩵= Ani 💙= Ben 🦖=Rex

unassigned campers were for the other two conselours in Rex’s cabin who never get named 😗

Next fun detail to share is actually some messages between me and my bestie that are cross referenced in the fic 😭

alright and i think that concludes this BTS post 🥳🥳

anyways i know i keep saying this but really thank you all for the love and support 🫶🏼🫶🏼 i’m glad you enjoyed Summer Love!! have a wonderful day huns Xx<3

series tag list: @anakinskwkler @anakinstwinklebunny @divineani @huayan @poppysrin @bxbyysstuff @dollhobigem @skywalkercinema @corio-letit-snow @avatarobsessedgirly @kelsxxyawn @7xss @throughparisallthroughrome @humongouscatfest @rhiannonhippiegirl @akixxrafiiy @ter-luer @w0rsh1psells @bulllsseye @anitaxl

in case you lovely’s wanted to see the BTS

[plumblossomcafe]

Halloween Special (1/?)

The day the emperor's daughter was born, he killed all the people in the Garnet palace she was born in. During the massacre, he recalled the name of his daughter, "Y/n," amused after the massacure, he left while saying, "Amusing. I wonder how long this thing can thrive in accordance to its name." After that, he never saw his daughter again, and even if she wasn't loved by her father she had others who loved her by her side, Streetword Rambler(Madame Ping) was one of them.

5 years later, the princess grew to be a timid, meek, and soft spoken but yet smart girl and was fully aware of the distance between her and her father but never knew why. That was until, one day, she overheard the maids talking about the story behind the palace of her birth. The palace was originally where the emperor's concubines lived, including her mother, and when she was born, her father killed everyone after her mother's death and spared her only. The princess was devastated at the thought that many innocent lives died because of her birth, even so she was grateful for being alive but was afraid of her encountering her father and deeply wished to avoid him, sadly that wish won't come true.

Hey guys, so even if Halloween is over tomorrow, I want to make this Halloween Special end until the end of November. This is an intro of the special, and you guys can let me know in the comments how you want this story's journey to go.

Edit: This is the change I want to make, I'm inspired by the Who Made a Princess manhwa, but I'm not copying it, I am taking some phrases, but I'm changing some things but I'm inspired by it.

Roles:

The archons= King/Queens, also known as emperor/ empress in the story

"Children" of the Archons: Prince/Princess

Adepti: Knights/Sorcerers

Tri-Comission/Liyue Qixing/Characters in high positions: Nobles that work closely to the imperial family.

Others: Merchants or other jobs

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 2: Operation

(Disclaimer: only three of the characters in this story belong to me. You can find more information about K.O. here. For more information about Caliban and R.D.—who are only mentioned, but still deserve some credit—go here and here. For my personal headcanons on Murdock, who belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe, go here. And if you’d like to learn more about the mob these guys all work for, go here.)

(There's a little something-something included at the end of this story; a sneak-peek for the events of Day 6 and Day 7. Originally, there were going to be three bonus snippets at the end of three specific stories, all leading up to a separate story as a Halloween Special. But I was on a time-crunch, and plans had to change. Just figured I'd give some extra context.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, disembowelment, knives/blades, descriptions of illegal business, implied violence, implied murder/death, mentions of cannibalism, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7

___

A slick, bubbling sigh crept up into the air as Murdock raked his dagger down the target’s chest. 

The crimson line left in his wake slowly grew wider and wider, oozing out to unveil the remaining layer of muscle tissue that stretched about the sternum. Having that stuff be touched by cool, relatively fresh air for the first (and last) time must’ve been something else. 

The edges of flesh seemed to pucker, almost resembling a frayed seam in clothing. 

Even if he typically didn’t do much harvesting himself, he’d still stuck around to chat and watch one of his many accomplices harvest from plenty of targets in the past. He still knew most of the basics.

Through the years, Murdock and Caliban had bonded over quite a few things—knives being one of them. Sure, the cannibal’s pun-addiction never failed to be infuriating, but he (and, by extension, his sister) was still a damn good colleague to have. 

Someone who was not only a reliable body-disposal resource, but also knew how to make collective millions on the Black Market, as well as help play some thrilling games with the mob’s targets?

That was someone who you’d have to be an absolute dumbass to not want in your corner for this type of business. 

And business was typically good when knives were involved. Yeah-yeah, other weapons had their merits, other weapons were more suited for certain situations, take your pick. 

(OR just finally own up and admit that blades are the best when it comes to dramatics. Not only because they make the work nice and messy, but they also require you to actually practice and learn so you can eviscerate the idiots who decided to talk behind your back with even more skill and flair than the average JoCat-inspired comeback.)

Knives were one of the things to have awoken his passion for mayhem years ago. 

Knives brought blood, and blood brought profit and suggestion and energy…

A soft, strangled groan seeped out through the target’s teeth. Murdock paused, turning his head to peer down at the other man’s eyes. 

It seemed that most of the lights were out—save for one that was still trying to flicker out of pure desperation—but someone was still home. He wouldn’t be for much longer, of course, if the lack of motion and the glaze in his eyes and the unnatural angle of his neck and the space between each shallow, wheezing, barely-audible breath was any indication. 

Murdock chewed his lip before shrugging to himself, returning his focus to the incision. 

It could be hard to apply the right amount of force (since people were infamous for being shockingly durable and shockingly fragile at the same damn time). But then, there was always a plethora of potential buyers wanting organs for a plethora of increasingly specific and increasingly fucked-up reasons. Even the ones with a little damage could still make money.

As Murdock set his blade off to the side and took hold of the sections he’d just sliced, pulling them even further apart and tearing a few strands of formerly internal tissue, he caught a metallic glint out of the corner of his eye. 

There, resting right above where he’d just started cutting, was a tiny pendant crafted in the shape of a butterfly. Squinting at it, Murdock realized that the charm’s bright yellow material looked oddly pure. Moreso than the brass of his own necklace. Not only that, but there was a total of four little gems adorned it, one attached to each wing, all cut in a Marquise style.

…Gold, a voice in his head hissed. GOLD.

The color, the way it shone in the light; there was no way this thing wasn’t genuine! Hell, if his guesstimate was right, then it had to be fourteen karats! Which, in turn, meant even at its size—just big enough to balance on his thumbnail—it would still be worth a little over five-hundred dollars. 

Even more than that if those stones were authentic diamonds and not just Swarvoski…

Sure, when it came to stuff outside a target’s body, a price like that wasn’t much compared to the prices of the stuff inside a target’s body. 

But that was just it: patrons of the Black Market were often there simply because they’d grown bored of normal luxuries (and true luxury never came without the suffering of others, did it?). 

If they weren’t looking for organs or skin or bones, then they’d be looking for trinkets that seemed casual at first, only to come with sinister stories. 

Such as, for example, a little jeweled trophy snatched away from the poor victim of a hitman while they lay dying a slow, painful death. 

Bloodstains could dress up the sale even more, but then, most of those elite customers got all pouty and extra annoying if they couldn’t flaunt what they bought. With that in mind, Murdock decided to put the butterfly charm off to the side until he was done with the harvesting. 

The thin chain snapped like a reed as he pulled, pinching the butterfly’s sides between his index-finger and thumb.

And then, all the jokes Caliban had made about butterfingers were ringing in his ears as the pendant was suddenly airborn…

___

Of all the things K.O. had imagined when he’d first been offered a place in The Pentas Family, petsitting was not one of them.

Not that this was really a problem, mind you—he’d gotten the other things he’d expected and then some. (A better fighting schedule, a much more profitable hidden-in-plain-sight arena, opponents to beat to a pulp, paid assignments on top of the money he raked in each time he won a match…)

Besides, while he was a definite dog-person, he still had a soft spot for animals in general.  

Even the one that might just be attempting sabotage at the moment. 

“I know what you’re trying to do, Snare,” K.O. called, not looking away from the cutting board and the various leafy things he’d been systematically chopping up for the past few minutes. 

Snare’s only response was to keep weaving around the fighter’s ankles, regularly pausing to reach up and paw at his knees. 

A half-smile on his face, K.O. continued, “Look, even if I did end up getting one of my own fingers by accident, I still wouldn’t give it to you. I already gave you one from Cal’s freezer, and the instructions say you can only get two per week. That’s just the rules, and the only time I can really break any rules is when I’m in the ring.”

He paused, thinking. “And even then, I save that for when the other guy decides to fuck around and find out.”

Snare tilted his head, craning his neck to look up at him, his dark amber eyes eerily thoughtful as always. Even if Caliban was the only person who could really read the leucistic hare’s body language, K.O. just knew when he was being judged (whether it was in a playful manner or not).

“...Yeah, I’m not sure why I told you all that, either,” K.O. replied with a shrug. 

Sooner or later, everything was ready. 

K.O. reached over to set the knife down in the sink, then carefully lifted up the cutting board and strode out of the kitchen. Snare followed along, only to bury his nose in his bowl, nibbling at the mix of dark green the fighter dropped off.

K.O. carried on, soon marching up a narrow staircase that stood just across the hall from Caliban’s bedroom. 

This house’s second floor only had two rooms to offer: a tidy guest suite, and a surprisingly spacious office. K.O. entered the latter, setting the board of goodies down on a desk in one corner before surveying the cage that loomed in another. 

Where Snare’s hutch was wide enough to nearly take up half of Caliban’s living room, the enclosure that R.D. had set up for her rats was tall—topping four feet of wire-mesh, the metal framing of its sides hidden by smooth gray wood. Hell, K.O. would put money on this thing being intended for creatures like ferrets or chinchillas…but then, even the smallest animals needed way more space than what they were usually given in the pet stores. 

The cage’s interior was organized into five levels, all connected by little ramps. Judging by the little nametags that were attached to the corners of the tiers (HERBERT on the first tier, SURRIDGE on the second, MOREAU on the third, FORSYTHIA on the fourth, and PHIBES on the fifth at the very top), each one acted as a sort of bedroom for each of the rodents. 

“Hey, guys. I figured you’d like some snacks to start off the week,” K.O. greeted, leaning down and smiling as he peered through the mesh. Through all the bedding and tiny blankets and even tinier toys, several pairs of beady eyes peered back, each with a little pink nose that twitched curiously.

K.O. hovered by the desk, flipping through the notes that had been left for him. Once he got to a page labeled FEEDING, he took a moment to re-read: 

There’s a big bag of nutri-pellets in the cabinet by the cage; just one tablespoon in each bowl is enough per day. (Make sure to refill their water-bottles every morning.) Still, rats are big omnivores, so it’s best to give them a little extra variety 1–3 times per week.

Phibes likes apple slices (PEELED AND WITHOUT THE SEEDS)

Moreau likes thinly-chopped carrots (again, PEELED)

Surridge likes small cuts of pear and mango (if you didn’t already guess that they should be PEELED AND HAVE ANY SEEDS/PITS REMOVED…well, I’m not TOO disappointed, but still. You’re an adult, you should be able to see a pattern by now) 

Forsythia likes kale and spinach, judging by how many times he’s tried to sneak leaves out of Snare’s bowl (I know I was specific before, but please, PLEASE tell me that you won’t try to peel stuff like leaves)

Herbert likes cauliflower and broccoli (look, I’ll be very grateful if you follow my instructions, because that means you care about keeping my little guys healthy and happy…but if you seriously try to peel tiny trees, then I’ll have no choice but to tell Cal to keep an eye on you for a while)

Rats really only need protein on occasion. Too much in one sitting will just make them sick. So, if you think that they deserve a meatier treat, then it has to be something LEAN. There’s a container full of roast chicken in the fridge; these guys all love a thin slice of the breast or skin. (If you really want to go the extra mile, carve the bones out of the wings and break them in half. They’re perfect for gnawing habits, plus the marrow is a great source of vitamins and minerals.)

DO NOT FEED THEM ANY HUMAN FLESH. SNARE CAN ONLY PULL IT OFF BECAUSE HARES ARE NATURAL OPPORTUNISTS; THEY’RE BUILT TO SCAVENGE OFF OF LARGER PREDATORS WHEN THEY NEED TO. YES, WILD RATS CAN HANDLE THAT TYPE OF DIET, BUT THE DOMESTIC ONES JUST CAN’T.

Good luck, and thanks again for taking the time to look after everything! See you soon!

— R.D. & Cal

K.O. snorted; the letter was dripping with sarcasm, but he respected people who were so meticulous with their pets. It just meant that they cared.

Plus, it felt nice that he was trusted to help out with something like this; after all, it wasn’t like Caliban could afford to just drop Snare off at a boarding kennel, considering the hare’s special diet…

Each tier on the rat-cage had its own little door, which made it easier for him to drop off the right snacks into the right bowls. None of the rodents tried to scurry out or climb on this new person's arms, though they did approach to cautiously sniff at his hands. 

(Well, all but Moreau. He just squinted at K.O. with near-palpable suspicion. But then, Moreau only had three limbs—there was a stump where his right hind-leg should’ve been. So, it seemed he had every damn right to be a little withdrawn.)

Before he could try to pet any of them, however, a faraway noise caught his attention…

“...Murdock?” K.O. called, remembering exactly what he’d been up to before all this.

Murdock didn’t call back, either because he hadn’t heard his accomplice or was just intentionally ignoring him. 

K.O. chewed his lip, then closed the rat’s cage back up and headed back down the staircase.

All the while, that noise got somewhat louder and clearer, muffled yet echoing in a way that could only be caused by old concrete walls.

Once he’d returned to the first floor, he couldn’t help but smirk upon recognizing a string of very frustrated, very colorful words set in that familiar baritone. 

___

Blood was a fickle thing. 

On most occasions, Murdock enjoyed that fickleness. 

There were so many different ways that deep crimson juice could seep out of someone just depending on the angle of a laceration. 

Sometimes you had to make it all rush out and splatter all over the walls in a manner of minutes, other times you got a chance to stretch the bleeding out and watch a pool form on the floor, growing wider and deeper and darker. In any case, you never missed out on feeling the weight of your blade as it sank into flesh.

This current occasion, however, was not one of them. 

“Where is it?!” Murdock hissed to himself through clenched teeth, looming over the fresh cavity.

Despite his leather gloves, it was pretty damn obvious that his knuckles were turning white. He gripped the surgical tweezer he’d found in Caliban’s toolcase, jabbing it back-and-forth, side-to-side in the crevices of the target’s intestines. 

Crimson droplets came spraying out, though the stains they left weren't really noticeable, considering the deep shade of currant that colored his favorite turtleneck. On the other hand, the specks that landed on his black-tinted shades stuck out in a very sinister way.

“Where is it, where is it, where in the flying FUCK—”

“Where’s what?” A familiar voice interjected, accompanied by a hollow chorus of footsteps that were growing closer and closer. 

Murdock paused, straightening his back and glancing over his shoulder just in time to see K.O.’s thin-yet-muscular form descending the hidden staircase (or, one of many hidden staircases, to be precise. Almost every one of his peers had a den like this). 

The Pentas Family’s resident illegal-fighting champion wandered over to stand by his side, glancing down at the mess on the block kitchen island that, thanks to Caliban, doubled as a human-disassembly station. 

Murdock heaved a sigh, finally loosening his grasp on the tweezers. It was a bit surprising that he hadn’t broken them just yet.

 “...I found some jewelry on this guy last-minute,” he explained, nodding to the target’s face (which was, interestingly enough, still twitching and twisting in agony. The strangled sobs had multiplied and even gotten a little louder). “I was just taking it off to put in its own jar or whatever for selling later on—”

“But you dropped it and can’t find it now?” K.O. finished, not bothering to hide the mirth that started to flicker in his blue eyes.  

“I know where it is!” Murdock snapped. He then pointed at the target’s guts, speaking quickly before his friend could remind him of the aggravated mantra he’d been spitting out just a few seconds ago, “I saw where it landed! But when I tried to grab it, it somehow slipped again and sank in deeper.”

K.O. sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, brow furrowing with sympathy. He moved to stand on the other side of the island, opposite of Murdock, before squinting down at the body cavity. “Well, what does this jewelry look like?”

“A butterfly. A really small, golden charm with diamonds studded on the wings,” Murdock answered, nearly bumping heads with the fighter as he leaned over again, pushing the tweezers back down into the tangle of bloody, organic tubes. 

“...Huh. So this guy technically has a physical butterfly in his stomach,” K.O. announced, chuckling as he fidgeted with the pockets of his amaranth-dyed jeans. “Cal would’ve loved this.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Murdock warned, trying his damnedest not to imagine all the puns Caliban would use if he’d been present to see the incident at hand.

(Even if he and the cannibal in question had agreed on plenty other examples of taunting terminology from the criminal underground.)

The cage-lights that adorned the tunnels’ old walls every twenty-or-so feet were dim and flickering. But their near-ancient glow still glinted off of blades quite nicely. 

Both Murdock’s dagger and Caliban’s cleaver had seemed to sear through the air as they took turns slashing at their victim, circling around him not unlike a pair of sharks. 

The intruder had collapsed against the old, rusty railing, crying out in pain and probably regretting every choice he’d made that led to sneaking down here.

Murdock tsk-tsked, kneeling down to snatch a handful of the intruder’s hair, forcing him to face him. “Hey, that’s what attempted sabatoge gets you. Especially when you think you can just break into our dens.” 

He’d traced the very tip of his dagger along the intruder’s cheek, drinking up some more fear before he pressed it into skin. He only used enough force to bring out a little bead of dark red; this show of restraint really didn’t mean much, considering the mess of blood and bruises that he and his accomplice had already inflicted on his head, his neck, his arms…

The bead in question soon turned into yet another thin line that ran down the man’s face, eventually merging with the gore that oozed from his busted lip.

“Wait!” Caliban had suddenly exclaimed, moving to kneel by the intruder’s side. “Wait-wait-wait, hold on!”

“The first couple ‘waits’ didn’t tip me off,” Murdock had snarked, though he did pause his movements. “Why? What’s the matter?”

Caliban grabbed hold of the intruder now bloodstained shirt-collar, partially lifting him up. He then gestured to all the fresh cuts marring flesh. “All these wounds are hungry, ‘Doc! Can’t you see that?” The mask of faux-concern slipped, sadistic glee worming its way back into his expression. “We’ve gotta feed them some SALT!”

The intruder squirmed, wretching and gibbering and shaking his head as he tried to escape. But it was no use; pretty much all the air had been knocked right out of him. And even if it hadn’t been, the collective pain from all those bleeding gashes would’ve slowed him down.

“Oh...Oh!” Murdock crowed, nodding as realization came along. He reached over to clap his accomplice on the shoulder. “Good point, Cal! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!” 

Caliban smiled cheekily. “That’s why we have these little collabs, isn’t it?” 

Murdock got to his feet, pacing along the old platform to peer at the intentionally-place graffiti on the walls. “We shouldn’t be too far from your den—” He then stooped back down, trapping one of the intruder’s arms in a vice-like grip. “C’mon, let’s get to it!” 

“Right!” Caliban cackled, taking the intruder’s other arm as he stood. 

With that, the duo had started dragging their victim along to his fate, eager to test out yet another interrogation tactic. 

“You really think you’ll have enough salt for this?” Murdock wondered aloud, glancing back at the struggling mess of a man who decided to fuck around and was now finding out. 

“I mean, I should,” Caliban replied. His brow furrowed as he stared at the floor, probably going through a silent checklist. 

A few seconds later, he simply shrugged, a sharp, toothy grin etching its way across his features as he looked back at Murdock. “But even if I don’t…I did put a gallon-jug of vinegar under the sink just yesterday.”

“Ooh,” Murdock hummed, offering an unhinged smirk of his own. “Yeah, that’d do the trick for sure!”

Caliban nodded. “Plus, it won’t make much of a dent in the skin’s price, as long as I wash it during the harvest…” 

Murdock’s free hand moved to tug at the edges, trying to give the tweezers in his other hand a bit more leeway. Blood pooled up and out due to the pressure. 

K.O., meanwhile, fidgeted in place, watching and thinking. “...Remember, skin goes for ten bucks per square-inch. So, if some sections need to be cut smaller because they’re too stretched—”

“I’M AWARE,” Murdock replied, raising his voice to be heard over the truly sickening (one might even say gut-wrenching) song of squelches caused by all the friction. 

The target made a feeble attempt to raise his voice, but that didn't change the fact that he was well past forming coherent sentences anymore. 

K.O. raised an eyebrow at this, shock beginning to ripple in his eyes.. “Hang on—is he still alive?”

Murdock, taking another quick, angry little break, shrugged. “In a way.”

“But—but I broke his neck not even an hour ago!” K.O. protested, moving to gape at the target’s twisting face. “He fell like a soggy trash-bag! Like a ragdoll! He hasn’t moved at all since before we even got here!”

“Broken necks aren’t always fatal,” Murdock mentioned, digging through the fleshy maze yet again. “Sometimes it just damages the spinal nerves enough to cause paralysis. Maybe you just didn’t twist it enough.”

K.O. hummed at this, surprise warping into morbid fascination. For whatever reason, he didn’t reach around the target’s neck to finish the job just yet. Instead, he went back to glancing in mild, semi-snarky awe at the sheer force of Murdock’s pissed-off snarl and forehead-creases. 

Murdock was too focused to see how the fighter sidled around the island to stand just behind him.

That changed with a quickness as he felt a weight materialize on both of his shoulders. 

“Here, you look stressed—”

“What makes you say THAT?” Murdock growled, refusing to look away from his work. 

“—let me give you a shoulder-rub,” K.O. continued, his tone of voice just singing about the shit-eating grin that was growing on his face. 

“I don’t want one,” Murdock argued, rolling his shoulders with much more force than strictly necessary. “Do not touch me, do not touch me, do not touch me, do nOT TOUCH ME!”

“Alright, alright,” K.O. relented…but only for a few seconds. “I can still help—what if I just put my arms under yours?” 

 “YOU FUCKING GET THOSE OUT FROM UNDER ME!” Murdock snapped, shifting in place to fend off his accomplice's arms before they could brush against his sides. 

K.O. snickered, finally holding his hands up in defeat. He moved into Murdock's field of view again, coming to stand by the target’s head. 

For the next moment or two, there was somewhat blissful silence. 

“What if you just left it like this?” K.O. piped up again. “It might give some extra edge to the sale. Kinda like one of those raffle games.”

“Raffle games?” Murdock echoed, incredulous.

“Yeah! Y’know, the whole ‘Guess How Many Beads Are In This Jar! The closest number gets a price!’ thing.”  K.O. spread his hands in a lame gesture. “Maybe you could squish these intestines into a jar with the butterfly still inside, then just tell potential buyers about it! No way there won’t be at least one person desperate enough for gold that they’ll dig through cold guts.”

Although that idea did sound pretty funny, Murdock still shook his head, snorting. “The average set of intestines are about sixteen feet long when they’re stretched out. Good luck finding a jar big enough to hold all that and keep it sealed without cracking.”

With another forceful sigh, Murdock threw the tweezers down. He took a second to tug at his gloves, then flexed his fingers…and plunged his hands into the target’s intestines. 

Full. 

Submersion.

While he didn’t gag or retch or react in the way any normal person would, Murdock still couldn’t help but cringe a little. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually handled entrails like this—he’d forgotten just how thick and dense they were. 

The hitman set his jaw and kept at it, glaring at nothing in particular as his fingers became lost in the maze of gore. Even with his gloves on, he’d still be able to feel the sharp, carefully-sculpted edges of that stupid godddamn butterfly charm…once his hands actually came across it, that is. 

More wheezing, unintelligible sobs came leaking out through the target’s teeth. 

“Calm, cool, collected…” K.O. taunted, drumming his fingers on the target’s forehead. “…I’m gonna frame you for tax-fraud…”

Murdock didn’t pause, didn’t look over at the fighter…but he just could stop himself from sputtering a small, low, flabbergasted chuckle at such a random comment. 

He didn’t see the way K.O.’s lips curled into a tiny, genuine smile. 

Whether or not the target was still in the headspace to be worrying about a threat to his taxes (or the current state of his organs), he still kept on wailing, kept on choking.

Kept on being an annoyance. (A much more macabre annoyance than average, but an annoyance all the same.) 

“This FUCKING GUY won’t shut THE FUCK UP,” Murdock seethed.

He finally looked back up from his work, locking eyes with K.O. as he used one very messy hand to toss his thumb over his shoulder. “Get a towel—get some paper-towels, get some water. We’re gonna FUCKING waterboard this guy.”

Now it was K.O.’s turn to sputter with disbelieving giggles. But he certainly didn’t hesitate. He raced over to the utility sink in the corner, returning seconds later with a wad of dripping paper-towels. 

“Next time you TALK—” K.O. started to warn…only for the target to let out another choked scream. The fighter pursed his lips and slammed the soaked towels down onto the target’s face.

…It actually ended up muffling the ensuing cries even more than expected. 

And that got a genuine belly-laugh out of Murdock. Maybe not enough to stave off an impending migraine, but something was better than nothing. 

“You’ll be sleeping with the fishes!” K.O. chortled, pressing his handed on top of the mess to keep everything in place. “You’ll be sleeping with the goddamn FISHES!”

More time passed by; now that all those distracting screams had been taken down a notch, things seemed to move a bit faster.

The metallic stench of still-warm blood hung heavy around the duo. Had the air been any hotter down here, it might’ve grown thick enough for them to almost taste the plasma as they breathed

“Let’s be honest here,” K.O. said, shifting in place and lifting his hands away from the target’s face (somehow, the paper-towel-gag didn’t slide off to plop down on the floor). “Can you actually get that butterfly out?” 

 “I am so close—I just felt it, I almost had it out, but it just clipped the edge of the—” Murdock took a deep breath, turning his head to crack his neck a few times, relieving some of the tension that had gathered there. “I swear to God, I can get this!”

“Alright, alright! If that’s the case, then it might not be as deep as it was before!” K.O. moved closer, leaning down toward the cavity. He reached over to pluck up the tweezers, then started gingerly probing at the entrails. 

Murdock’s own hands pulled back, soon coming to rest on his temples in a noble attempt to keep his brain from eroding through his skull. He barely even noticed how the blood smeared against his skin.

A hollow, aggravated, exhausted groan poured out of his lungs. For a few seconds, he simply took a turn to watch. 

Evidently, the powder-keg of K.O.’s patience had an even shorter fuse than Murdock’s. 

In one swift, fluid movement, he tossed the tweezers away, one hand curling in a fist that plummeted against the surface of the guts with a wet, smacking thump! 

And then…THEN…

Time seemed to slow down. 

Whatever primordial entity that potentially ruled over this cruel universe finally decided to say, “Why not?” 

Because as the intestines quivered from the strike, a tiny, glinting projectile suddenly erupted out from the very center of the mess, arching in the air before landing just a few inches away from the cavity with an anticlimactic plink!

The two mobsters both froze in place, their mouths dropping in near-perfect unison. 

The next moment almost felt like a whole hour as they stared down at the golden, diamond-encrusted, butterfly-shaped trophy. 

K.O. was the first to break the stunned silence, throwing his head back and practically screaming with laughter. Murdock followed suite, his own guffaw starting out with a wheeze that built up in volume over the course of a few seconds. 

“Did you see that?!” Murdock just barely managed to ask, still wracked with breathless cackles. 

“How did that just happen?!” K.O. asked, getting a rare pass for answering a question with another question.

___

[You actually read this far? Wow, that’s dedication! And as a thank you…here’s a little hint at what’s to come, featuring a couple more fanmade characters: my second-ever CrankEgo, and my first ever SepticEgo! To learn more about them, go here. I just feel like the ever-obscure EldritchPlier needs another rival besides my own LeviathanPat. And why shouldn’t that new rival come with his own semi-cultist companion like Cruz?]

(One more thing: if you’d like to use distorted fonts like the one you’ll be seeing in this story, go here.)

The Oozing Crown hadn’t even been closed for a minute. 

Outside, the electric sign at the top of the building hadn’t even been turned off yet. 

It still glowed with an eerie light that somehow still managed to be welcoming. Its neon wires all worked together to portray a grinning, emerald-green skull with hot-pink liquid fountaining out of a jagged hole in its parietal. 

One Moses Norbert had just barely finished cleaning the main floor, securing the rows upon rows of bottles behind the counter. Just as he reached to lock up the shelves for the night, a very distorted, very familiar voice came pouring into his mind like molten lead.

“𝗕⃥𝘖̸𝗜⃥𝘓̸ 𝘜̸𝗣⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘝̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗜⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥𝘈̸ 𝘊̸𝗢⃥𝘒̸𝗘⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘐̸𝗫⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸ 𝘞̸𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗝⃥𝘈̸𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗦⃥𝘒̸𝗘⃥𝘠̸.⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗡⃥𝘈̸ 𝘉̸𝗘⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘕̸𝗜⃥𝘎̸𝗛⃥𝘛̸.⃥”

All the time Moses had spent running the surface-level of this business granted him the power to find the coveted bottle of Suntory Toki just by muscle-memory. He moved into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Coca-Cola Vanilla from the fridge before setting a pan atop the stove.

 “Oh, yeah? Praytell why? Cosmic seasonal depression beyond my comprehension?” Moses asked, chuckling to try and hide the way he stiffened. 

It wasn’t at all uncommon for the creature he’d learned to call Septic to ask for some special drinks once the brewery-and-distillery-combo was devoid of all mortal witnesses. 

Hell, jokes connecting his drinking habits to the fact that his otherworldly tone was somehow laced with an honest-to-God Irish accent had been a big part of his and Moses’ bonding in the past. 

But this was…different. 

It wasn’t like Moses was a stranger to adding all sorts of distinctly un-kosher things to soda or alcohol by now, but being asked to boil beverages was never the best omen.

“𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘐̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥,” Septic snickered, though his pitch was still obviously weighed down by something else. “𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥.̸ 𝘛̸𝗘⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸ 𝘐̸𝗦⃥.̸”

Despite the fact that no-one was actually around to see his expression, Moses raised an incredulous eyebrow (besides, he knew Septic could see far, far beyond the barriers around them).

“October,” he answered. 

“𝗬⃥𝘌̸𝗣⃥.̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗕⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘈̸𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸?⃥”

“…Halloween,” Moses continued, occasionally stirring the soda as it started to heat up and bubble.

“𝗖⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗠⃥𝘜̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸𝗢⃥.” A chorus of almost porcelain clicks echoed through Moses’ head; Septic must have been gnashing his multitude of sharp, jagged teeth together in contemplation. “𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗗⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗣⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸ 𝘔̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥𝘗̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥'̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥𝘖̸ 𝘔̸𝗨⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘐̸𝗥⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝗜⃥𝘍̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘝̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸-⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸𝗦⃥𝘐̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗦⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗬⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘖̸ 𝘉̸𝗬⃥.̸.⃥.̸”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Moses agreed, his brow furrowing at memories of stupid Karens who had ruined one night of trick-or-treating too many when he’d still been just a little kid.

The cola had reached a rolling boil by now, so he turned the burner off and fetched a glass from one of the cabinets. After pouring a little more than a shot’s worth of the whiskey, he carefully upended the steaming pan over it. 

And as the concoction practically mixed itself together, realization came in. “…Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“𝗜⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸,⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘔̸ 𝘐̸?⃥” Septic snorted, an eye-roll evident in his pitch.

Moses crossed the kitchen, rooting through the storage closet tucked into one corner. It took little time for him to find a wooden chest stashed on the highest shelf, well out of view to any strangers who might’ve come in here for whatever reason. He opened it up, fishing out the mask he’d been given years ago, as part of the pact he’d made when he was first brought to the apartment on top of the brewery’s roof. 

The mask was an amalgamation of leather and metal. It almost resembled one of those typical, vintage gas masks…that is, if those pieces of old-fashioned gear were designed with six spindly copper blades attached to the base of the mouth-guard by a set of rivets. It resembled the mandibles of some kind of hellish, overgrown insect. 

And that wasn’t mentioning the mask’s eyes. Yes, it had a primary pair for the wearer to actually, y’know, see through. But it had many, many more, all scattered about the top, having apparently been welded onto the mask’s dome. Right now they were a deep, rich shade of cobalt, though they would sometimes change color depending on what type of ritual he participated in. 

Even though he’d signed a (relatively) mutually-beneficial contract years ago, Moses was still somewhat at risk. 

Trees emitted oxygen, outer abominations emitted surreal terror that could physically manifest in a number of nasty ways. 

(And that included the whole “names have power” schtick. The last part of Septic’s name was the only part that could be spoken by a mortal without causing their vocal cords to explode into tiny, sinewy pillars of thorns from the inside-out. Despite all the adjustment Moses had gone through, the last time he’d dared try to say Septic’s full title, he’d ended up crying bloody slugs for the rest of the night.)

(...Plus, having a special mask for stuff like this gave way for the perfect excuse to make jokes about using protection during rituals. Oh sure, you could say that you wouldn’t jump at an opportunity like that if you found yourself working with a sentient crime against nature…but then your mother would’ve raised a fucking liar.)

Pulling the mask over his head, Moses stepped out of the storage closet and knelt down in the center of the kitchen; the cellar door was well-camoflauged, topped off with a slab of the same material as the floor in here, but he knew how to find the right edges. 

Like some kind of weird, reverse murphy-bed, the door glided up and open, revealing a short steel stair-unit.

With that, Moses grabbed the freshly-brewed beverage and headed down. 

As usual, the basement was dark, but the mask helped Moses’ eyes to adjust quickly. It was also much, much bigger than the brewery’s main floor; his footsteps reverberated as he paced along an industrial catwalk that overlooked all the machinery down here. But then, most of that stuff was attached to the walls, not taking up too much space. 

No, what really needed accommodation were the tanks—a group of seven, to be exact. Six were positioned by the sides, split into two groups of three. They were each about eight feet tall, each painstakingly crafted from silvery metal, each able to brew or distill about a hundred barrels’ worth of product. 

And yet, none of them could really compare to the seventh tank.

It stood before the rest at the very head of the room, looming at fourteen feet. It boasted a shiny copper material…though, you couldn’t really tell whenever Septic was active.

As Moses descended yet another metallic staircase and approached, a bright glow sparked to life inside the seventh tank, casting the room in a dark-yet-vibrant shade of green that silently screamed with toxicity. 

Moses’ shadow stretched along the floor behind him as halted just a few feet away from the radioactive-looking vessel. The source of that glow rose up, floating in the center and not even having to wade closer to rest his hands—or, more precisely, his clutches of talons—against the tank’s foremost inner wall. 

Even though Septic’s outline was blurry, it was still easy to see the several eyes scattered about his torso in arms. They came in a variety of shapes and sizes, all glowing and rolling around in their misplaced sockets. A mane of long, dark hair twisted through the liquid, the movement looking similar to trapped, spasming eels.

The tank’s hatch (which nearly scraped against the ceiling) popped open with a pressurized hsssssss. Clouds of discolored steam billowed into the air, along with a smell that was reminiscent of geyser pits…that is, if the natural sulfur came with a trace of sweetness that could only ever be produced by rotting flesh. 

Moses held the glass forward, prompting Septic to reach up. One of his arms gave off a chorus of pops and cracks as it protruded from the hatch, stretching far too long far too quickly.

The bones in his translucent skin shuddered and warped, his translucent skin glistening. Droplets slid off, smoking as they met their end against the concrete floor.

Then, just a millisecond after his claws wrapped around the glass, the limb retracted back into the tank with an echoing splash!

Septic’s outline craned his neck to greedy gulp down the casual elixir. Once the glass was drained, he opened wide, causing the strands of torn flesh along his cheeks to stretch even further.

The liquid inside the tank did nothing to muffle the cacophony of crunching and shattering that would’ve made much more sense echoing up from the depth of a malfunctioning garbage disposal.  

Septic then let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders. “𝗔⃥𝘏̸,⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥𝘕̸ 𝘚̸𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥.̸ 𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗠⃥𝘚̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥.̸” He nodded in Moses’ direction, pupil dilating in the eye on the center of his chest. “𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗞⃥𝘚̸.⃥”

“No problem,” Moses replied, nodding back. He started rocking back and forth on his heels. “So, what’s this Halloween ritual about? If you’re already taking the atrocity-equivelent of blood-pressure medicine, then it’s gotta do with something bigger than the usual stuff.” 

Despite his new anxiety, Moses couldn’t help but snicker to himself. The usual stuff he’d just mentioned involved harvesting souls and emotions from the people he could get away with knocking out and dragging down here to meet a very gruesome fate inside any one of the tanks.

(And he didn’t even really have to clean them out afterwards! Thanks to Septic’s power, the mess pretty much always just dissolved out of existence once the task was complete! How lucky was that?!)

“𝗜⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘍̸,⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥.̸ 𝘐̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗬⃥𝘚̸ 𝘞̸𝗘⃥'̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘓̸𝗣⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸ 𝘐̸𝗧⃥.”  Septic clicked an elastic, forked tongue. He slowly spun around in the tank, almost like the stuff inside lava lamps. 

Moses tilted his head to the side, curiosity worming its way into his head. “Wait…this’ll call for more people than just us? For guys like…like you?”

Septic nodded; despite his obvious apprehension, he still bared his fangs in a grin at the inquinsitiveness. “𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥'̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘗̸𝗥⃥𝘖̸𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗕⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸ 𝘈̸ 𝘍̸𝗘⃥𝘞̸ 𝘗̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘚̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗣⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘞̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸ 𝘔̸𝗔⃥𝘚̸𝗞⃥.̸ 𝗕⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥'̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘠̸ 𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸𝗙⃥,̸ 𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸ 𝘋̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝘚̸𝗢⃥,̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘗̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥𝘛̸𝗬⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘈̸𝗙⃥𝘌̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘔̸𝗢⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘛̸.”

Moses hummed at this. Yeah, there was still a lot of foreboding that came with the statement…but already had bragging rights for working with a cosmic horror! And soon he’d get to work with even more?! 

There was no way anyone else’s upcoming Halloween plans could compare to his. No. Fucking. Way.

“𝗗⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗖⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥,” Septic warned, having clearly both seen and felt the rising adrenaline. “𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗬⃥𝘚̸ 𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸ 𝘚̸𝗢⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘗̸𝗘⃥𝘛̸𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘚̸ 𝘖̸𝗙⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥ 𝗜⃥'̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘌̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥.”

“...How the hell can I not get excited at a concept like that?!” Moses asked. “If human drama manages to be so weirdly entertaining, then eldritch drama must be even wilder!”

“𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥,” Septic agreed with a sardonic chuckle. “𝗟⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘒̸,⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗣⃥𝘓̸𝗔⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸,⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥𝘋̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗩⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘐̸𝗙⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘐̸𝗚⃥𝘏̸𝗧⃥.̸” 

He paused, diving down for a few seconds before floating closer to the top of the tank. “.⃥.̸.⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸,⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗞⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥,̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘋̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸'⃥𝘛̸ 𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘝̸𝗘⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘌̸𝗫⃥𝘗̸𝗟⃥𝘈̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘠̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘍̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘋̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸'⃥𝘛̸ 𝘞̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸.⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗝⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘒̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗣⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗗⃥ 𝗨⃥𝘗̸.” 

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Moses chuckled. He then glanced at the catwalk over his shoulder. “How long will you be gone?” 

Where some monsters were bound to follow rules that kept them out of places, Septic was restricted to being kept in a place. Ever since he’d had that chance-meeting with Moses, however, he’d had a counter to that pesky binding.

Granted, he could only stay out of his tank for a short time before being dragged back by whatever force was in there underneath him, but he wasn’t one to look a gift morbid-fascination-prone-human in the mouth. 

“𝗝⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗪⃥𝘖̸ 𝘋̸𝗔⃥𝘠̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘚̸𝗔⃥𝘝̸𝗘⃥𝘋̸ 𝘜̸𝗣⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘌̸𝗫⃥𝘛̸𝗥⃥𝘈̸ 𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥𝘎̸𝗬⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘚̸.”

“Gotcha. Well…good luck with that, I guess.” Moses moved closer, soon climbing on the stepladder that was pretty much always propped up against Septic’s tank.

He held the hatch’s brass handle in a vice-like grip, knuckles very quickly turning white. He ever-so-slightly leaned to the side, bracing himself. “Ready when you are!”

The green light grew more vibrant, more poisonous.  

The tank began to rattle, to groan, to shudder in place. The unearthly liquid inside gurgled and churned as Septic’s form all but flooded out. 

Moses’ instincts screamed at him to lower his head and wrench his eyes shut…but everything was over before he even could. 

The glow had vanished, leaving the basement full of shadows, safe for the light that trickled down from the kitchen through that door-in-the-floor. 

The air was clear. 

Septic was gone…though, his voice was stubborn enough to stay for a few more seconds. “𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸!⃥”

“Likewise!” Moses called back. As he slid down the ladder and started making his way back toward the kitchen, he added, “…And bring me back a toy!”

[To be continued on Day 6...]

___

@sammys-magical-au

[yuri-is-online]

Cat Got Your Tongue? (MMO AU: Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

Master Post for AU: (x) please read for overview and links to other parts.

a/n: Sure Leona says he doesn't like video games but this is my blog and I choose the au. I ended up having to re-write this because the original premise wasn't working but this fits Leona's vibe a bit better. Side note, but I am thinking I'll probably write a sort of part 2 for each of these once I am finished with each of the main "routes" since there was some stuff I wanted to include in this fic but cut because it didn't flow.

notes: They/Them pronouns used for Yuu, loosely inspired by Love is Hard for Otaku and crappy otome games, Leona is a junior and Yuu is a freshman in American college years, some mild Ruggie slander? (he's hustlin and bustlin) Not a lot of gaming in this one sorry.

Sometimes Leona really hates having a functioning brain.  Maybe if he had been born comatose his family would have taken time to understand him.  Hell maybe he would have understood them.  And maybe, maybe if he’d been a bit more stupid, a bit more happy, a bit more inspiring and a bit less morose, someone would have looked his way.

Someone.  His bright green eyes settle on a desk strategically chosen in the furthest shadows of the classroom where someone sits.  They’re tired, fighting against the eight am death sentence of a class to stay awake and take notes.  Nose always at the grindstone with so little in the way of reward, just like always.  Sometimes he wonders if they’ve ever noticed his gaze, it’s been on them for a long time creating a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach he’d gladly brush off as disgust to Ruggie when pushed.  Not that Ruggie ever pushed hard over something he wasn’t getting paid for and he had enough sense not to laugh at Leona to his face.  They both knew it was worry.  It was written all over his face and twitching through his tail, they look up to meet his heavy gaze and twitch.  A smile works its way to his face involuntarily as he closes his eyes.  

He is getting tired of waiting.

~~~

[FC] <Tempura Kun> I STG IM GONNA KERMIT A FELONY

[FC] <Granny Smith> fr?

[FC] <Granny Smith> where we pullin up?

[FC] <Tempura Kun> whatever hole my Algebra TA crawled out of this morning

[FC] <Granny Smith> we pullin out (´×ω×`)

[FC] <Tempura Kun> （πーπ）

[FC] <Tempura Kun> real brave

[FC] <Tempura Kun> ur such a big man 

[FC] <Granny Smith> HEY

[FC] <Granny Smith> I thirst for the glory of combat not suicide 

[FC] <Gloomy Samurai> whisper or get in a linkshell if you’re just going to bitch and braid each other’s hair

You smother your screams with a pillow as your discord lights up with a call from Epel, which you answer quickly enough it barely gets a chance to ring.

“Just not yer day, huh?”  Epel sighs sympathetically, but you know he’s making that stupid smug face of his.  “Whatcha do this time?”  

“I accidentally gave Dr. Crewel some paperwork dad had me working on and when I tried to explain that to Leona, he laughed at me before I got it all out.”  Epel whistles.

“Did you get the papers back?”

“Yeah.”  You glare at your monitor as you settle into your desk chair.  “Would have been nice to keep my dignity though.”  Epel has enough sense to not to tease you more, just inviting you to a party and shooting a message to the guild to see if anyone is up for running a few dungeons while you stew in your frustrations, squishing your pillow and try to avoid reflecting on your day.  Realistically speaking it wasn’t that bad.  You’ve been pretty lucky in life compared to some people, as your adoptive father is so keen to remind you, he is very generous.  He’s paying for you to go to a good school (that he works for so he’s actually just paying for books), he let you keep Grim when pretty much every other foster family you were placed with tried to get rid of him, and you have a pretty solid group of friends left over from highschool.  But still, you like to think you have a right to complain about things, what sort of father makes his kid go through zoning laws under the guise  of “father child bonding time”?  And what sort of teacher’s assistant says that’s not his problem and snarks about taking off points of your actual homework?

Leona Kingscholar apparently, it’s his idea of a joke.  By the day after tomorrow he’ll be back to his lazy self, slapping a half assed grade on your homework with a bunch of snarky commentary that’s surprisingly helpful when you go to amend your notes.  Assuming he doesn’t hijack your table in the library to take a nap first.  He’s a pain in your ass, and the worst part is you really don’t know why.  Leona’s a junior, you think anyway, and outside of his job as a teacher’s assistant you don’t have any shared classes.  Epel plays on the Spelldrive team, talks him up pretty much every chance he gets, so you guess he’s pretty good at that if nothing else.  Maybe he’s mad at you on Epel’s behalf?  He invites you to their games sometimes, but you never go because you’re too afraid of the crowds.  The thought makes you huff in frustration as Rex and Snake join your party and begin bickering about what to que for; that’s between you and Epel, what’s his captain got to say about any of that?  What does he want to do, show off?

[FC] <Snake Whisper> Tempura you still good to heal?  Gran said you were stressed.

[FC] <Tempura Kun> I’ll stress more if I make you heal lol

[FC] <Tempura Kun> Thanks for asking <3

[FC] <Snake Whisper> σ(^○^)

[FC] <Snake Whisper> You’re good

You stretch and do your best to pop your neck.

Vivat Rex >> You shouldn’t stress about making him heal if you’re tired.  It’s ok to take a break.

Tempura Kun >> lol I like heals I’ll be good promise

Tempura Kun >> ty for worrying tho &lt;3 <3

Vivat Rex >> <3 ofc can’t have our only competent heals falling over dead

Tempura Kun >> HA i’m telling Nautilus u said that

Vivat Rex >> (^_~)  punk ass bitch deserves it

The instance cuts off your reply and you settle into your chair determined to enjoy the hour and a half you set aside for yourself today before you have to go back to being an overworked unpaid student.  Before you have to go back to trying to convince your friend Ruggie that you have a friend named Rex who is real and not a figment of your imagination that lives in your computer caused by dehydra- wait.  Your eye twitches settling on the date and time mocking you from the lower right of your second monitor.

“Epel.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to go wall to wall or I’m gonna be late for work.”

~~~

“Finally.”  Ruggie gives an exaggerated stretch as he yawns.  You sigh to yourself in relief that he isn’t too upset that you’re a few minutes late, you know Ruggie’s a busy guy from the few closing shifts you’ve worked together.  He’s one of the few people you feel actually respects your situation, if the side hustles he kicks your way are anything to go by anyway.  You’d hate for him to think you’re ungrateful for his help.   “I’m practically dead on my feet here, took you long enou-”  You pause in tying your apron, unsure of why he’s staring into you so disapprovingly you almost swear he’s been replaced by Leona.  Almost.  His signature laugh is too unique.

“Stuff it.”  You scowl and his laughter gets louder and it’s a wonder his tail doesn’t knock any of the cigarettes off the back counter shelves.

“Oh you look disgusting.”  He fishes his phone out of his back pocket as he clocks out, checking it just out of your view as you try to salvage your pride and settle into your seat.

“You don’t look so hot yourself either.”

“Yeah at least I don’t look like a truck hit me and backed up to make sure it finished the job.”  He looks somewhat serious for a brief second.  “When was the last time you actually ate food?”

“Before I came here?”

“Instant noodles don't count.”  Your silence is speaking volumes you don’t have the strength to combat and Ruggie sighs.

“I know I’m one to talk, but you should really get some rest.”  His lips quirk into a grin for half a second, quick enough to have missed if you had blinked as if he remembered something amusing.  “Unless you’re angling for someone to force you.”

“Like a health professional?  You know the old crow will just look for a second opinion.”  Ruggie lightly flicks your shoulder while he continues to focus on his phone on the way out the door.

“You mean thirty-second.”  He doesn’t even look up to say goodbye.  “Well I’m out!  Try not to scare off the customers.”  If you had to regularly interact with customers you would not have taken this shift.  Epel had given you a hard time about that, something about personal safety being more important than sanity.

[FC] <Granny Smith> not what I said

[FC] <Granny Smith> u should at least have someone visit when ur alone on shift

And you did sometimes.  Ace likes to drop by after practice, and Epel hadn’t said that with the intention of not showing up himself.  Jack and Deuce probably would have visited even if you were on a daylight shift, not that Jack would ever admit to checking up on you outloud.  But it was still very much only a sometimes thing, not that they didn’t care or worry they just had lives.  Most of your time at the convenience store was spent alone scrolling through magicam on your phone, only looking up to ring up a hoard of energy drinks for whoever was just as tired as you were.  Though maybe not today, Rex had tried to convince you to just call out.  He always does, complaining about how he’d have to run things with Nautilus now, but he might have had a point today.  The chair you and Ruggie snuck behind the counter is not remotely comfortable but you swear it feels like a cloud.  You tried to focus on your magicam feed, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the fan art Gloomurai posted of the First Fantasia Knight Commander.  If anything it just made you sleepier, like he was personally inviting you to take a nap on his lap or something.  Your eyes shut and your phone drops out of your hand.  When you finally wake up you swear it has only been a minute at most but the smug look of your customer suggests otherwise.

“Morning sunshine.”  Leona looks painfully out of place in this shitty college convenience store.  The dingey, twitching light barely bounces off his hair and you swear his clothes have to cost more than all the electronic equipment in the place combined, maybe even more than your computer back home.  An odd thought to have, he’s literally just wearing the same kind of athleisure wear you had been wearing almost twenty minutes ago while gaming, but you recognize the branding on that shirt from a rant Ruggie went on a month ago.  Something about wondering why anyone would pay that much money to leave the house looking stupid in cheetah print.  “Are you even listening to me?”  Leona drawls, lazy and the slightest bit disappointed, he has been talking to you since you woke up you belatedly realize and completely fail to hide the fact.  Leona sighs, tail thrashing in annoyance as he moves to join you behind the counter.  “Whatever, just move over.”  You almost fall off your chair.

“What?  No no no this is an employee only zone you cannot take a nap back here.”  You have no idea how Leona is expecting to fall asleep, even if you’ve tripped over him on the campus lawn before you’re sure the green has to be more comfortable than this questionably sourced tile.  And yet he seems happy enough, bracing his back against the concrete wall as you turn your confusion back to the counter and notice a thermos that you don’t recognize next to you.

“That’s yours.”  Your head whips back around but the fucker’s eyes are closed and he looks so incredibly unbothered your loud retort dies in your throat.  He doesn’t bother to meet your piercing gaze no matter how long you stare at him, you get more of a response from the thermos when you accidentally elbow it trying to get more comfortable at the counter.  It’s a nice thermos, one of those expensive insulated things that cost a ridiculous amount of money, in a bright yellow that nicely compliments the royal looking lion sticker stuck to it.  There are a few other stickers, the NRC logo, a Spelldrive team logo, and a reaper job icon.  The last sticker makes you smile, you’re pretty sure you linked a similar looking sticker to Rex in the guild discord a month ago, the design included a silhouette of the cowboy hat from the class armor set behind the icon just like this sticker.  Exactly like this sticker, you realize as your tired eyes settle on the artist’s signature.  The shop bell rings you to attention, a significantly less interesting customer enters the store and you try to shove your rising panic to the back of your mind and try to focus on doing your job.

Leona’s annoyed sigh goes completely unnoticed.

~~~

“You aren’t going to tell Crowley I slept through most of my shift right?”  You have to be pushing things, Leona hates repeating himself and this is the third time you’ve asked him.  Leona had insisted on staying with you until the end of your shift, you had insisted he had better ways to spend his night but admitted, when he had explicitly asked, that no you weren’t uncomfortable with his presence just didn’t want to be an inconvenience.  That made him laugh, not unlike the little exchange you’d had this morning, but this time he had actually entertained your attempts at talking to him.  Until the time came to leave and he offered to walk you home.  Leona seeing you asleep at your shitty job was bad enough, the thought of that ramshackle house made your stomach tie up in all sorts of knots.  “I know you probably don’t see it as a big deal-”

“Because it’s not.”  He snorts.  “Really who do you think you’re trying to impress?”  You wince, Leona swings the thermos with that taunting sticker just out of view, as you huddle into yourself and he sighs stopping under a street light and turns you to face him.  “No seriously, just who are you trying to impress?  You’re always working to the point you’ve practically stopped being yourself.  It’s annoying.”  

“Well what’s it to you?”  You huff and Leona doesn’t bother to immediately answer.  Your eyes drift back to the sticker on his thermos.  

“Maybe I like playing games with you.”  His voice and face are uncharacteristically soft, but still unnervingly intense.  He doesn’t bother specifying what he means, almost like he’s daring you to ask first so he can make fun of you for thinking Rex was anyone other than him this whole time.  “Maybe I like Yuu enough that I want to spend just a little more time with them and not this weird zombie who doesn’t know the way back to their own house.”  

“Oh please-” you roll your eyes and turn back to the road only for your retort to die in your throat.  You are not, in fact, headed towards the haunted mansion.  This road, this stupid street light, is next to a diner you know the college sports teams like to go to after games.  Leona, gently, tugs you by the sleeve of your jacket towards the door.  “Hey, I can’t afford-”

“Oh don’t misunderstand we ain’t here for you, I was just feeling a bit hungry.”  The smug bastard doesn’t even pretend to hear your protests as he pushes his way into the diner and doesn’t wait to be seated.  He just drags you towards the back of the diner shooting you a truly catlike smirk over his shoulder.  “Of course if I have something left over, we can share.  Maybe if you play nice you can get your own straw.”  He spins you into the booth across from him, and despite what he literally just said shoves the plastic menu back into your hands when you try to hand it back to the clearly amused waitress.  

“How long have you known I was...”  You feel stupid even trying to broach the topic, there’s a pretty clear line you don’t cross when making online friends.  It’s even in the guild rules, you’re pretty sure “don’t ask for anyone’s IRL info” is probably Gloomurai’s life motto.  But Leona doesn’t seem to care, which you suppose is in line with what you know about Rex.  His laid back attitude was what had made him the most approachable out of all your guildmates, not that you would ever have thought to apply such a description to Leona.  If anything he seems confused why you’re so shy about talking, like he’s known who you are the whole time and that’s why he spent so much time pinging you in game or why he decided to spend his night keeping you company. 

“Maybe I like playing games with you.”  Something starts curling up in your stomach at the thought that he just might have, if Leona notices you loosening your jacket to release some steam he pretends not to notice.

“Epel mentioned he was gonna try to get you into the guild.”  Well that’s news to you, looks like someone is going to get yelled at later tonight.  “I didn’t expect you to be so excited about healing, but I ain’t complaining, it was cute and now I don’t have to take Naut’s shit outside of raids.”   Cute.  You intake a sharp breath and Leona definitely notices your nerves, clearly planning to press the point unless you can cut him off from the chase.

“W-what exactly do you have against Nautilus anyway?”  With the way Leona’s face wrinkles you idly wonder if he knows who Nautilus actually is too, or if he’s just displeased that the focus is no longer on him.  “He’s not bad at his role.”  

“Naut pays too much attention to pointless shit.  Sure he’s good but it’s not like he does world firsts or anything.”  Neither does Rex but that does seem to be besides the point when he’s paying for your dinner, especially now that it’s in front of you.  Diner food might not be the healthiest but Ruggie really was right about instant noodle not counting as a meal.  “You know he and Snake used to bitch at each other while they were supposed to be doing callouts?  Had whole ass arguments over cooking instead of calling out shackle timing.  Gloom and Musclered never stopped ‘em either since it was ‘funny.’”  They still do, just in discord and not while you run things.  It’s hard to picture someone as professional as Nautilus doing something like that, but then again you know that Rex has known him longer.  “So just in case you thought I was just being nice earlier, you are the better heals.  If I could get the cards I want with just you, Epel, and Ruggie I would.”  It’s disturbing how clear the picture is in your mind: your lala, Epel’s roe, and Leona’s cowboy coded catman being joined by some hyper pink catgirl in the mini game bunny suit that you can easily see Ruggie using to scam some tech worker out of his monthly salary in Pirate’s Port wiping to an EX rank trial because Leona decided his logs weren’t orange enough.  It sounds like a good time, and you can’t keep yourself from blurting out:

“We should try to run something sometime anyway, it’d be fun.”  And before you can retreat back into your shell,  Leona smiles, smiles and burns away any sort of shyness you wanted to have over talking video games with someone as “normal” as him.

“If you can think of something just text me.”  You fish out your phone and can’t even bring yourself to cringe at the time with just how happy that suggestion makes you feel.

And Ace said playing MMOs would get you zero bitches.

~~~

This was a mistake.  It was hard to keep that thought from drumming away at your nerves the longer you stood in the station square; Leona had been the one to invite you out, not the other way around, so if he really ended up not liking this then that was his fault not yours.  You even took into account that Leona was a lazy bitch and suggested you meet up later in the day instead, but then again…  You try to resist drowning in a wave of self flagellation over the clothes you picked out as you somehow manage to sink further into the park bench you have decided to camp out on.  For someone who had been so insistent they were not going out on a date when their generous adoptive father asked where they were going during such prime father child bonding hours, you felt insanely self conscious.  That was normal right, people who actually went out with their friends to do stuff other than pal around the local big box store put thought into their appearance.  Not that there was anything wrong with that.  If this goes south you know you already confirmed you can have Jack over here in two shakes of his tail and that’s probably exactly what you would end up doing.  But when Mannon posted in the guild discord about a First Fantasia themed pop up cafe that was going to be A) running for a limited time within walking distance from your house and B) giving out a code for an in game pet-

Well admittedly your first thought had been to invite Epel, but Leona had texted you almost immediately after Mannon dropped the link.

[irl catboy] ruggie said you aren’t working this saturday

[irl catboy] come with me to the stupid cafe i never know what to order at those places

With such a gentlemanly request how could you possibly refuse?  And now here you were fifteen minutes early trying to keep yourself from going stir crazy, or from jumping out of your skin when an increasingly familiar deep voice whispers a sleepy “hey” into your ear.  

“Seven’s Leona!”  You’re half ready to hit him with your backpack but your indignation and fright are almost entirely wiped away by the sheer figure Leona cuts against the setting autumn sun.  Someone, Ruggie you decide, because there’s no way Leona decided to dress up to come see you himself, forced your upperclassman into a knit  black turtleneck with golden claw-like trim on the neck and rolled up cuffs.  He’s kept his usual tan slacks, but the ugly woven sandals have been swapped out for a more weather appropriate pair of ugly slip ons with similar gold claws to the turtleneck.  His hair’s still tied up like he’s been at spelldrive practice, not that you fully know what he looks like outside of Epel’s descriptions and your own imagination. 

“What, did I scare you?” you drawls, clearly eating up the attention you’re lavishing on his appearance.  Before you can collect yourself enough to stand up he leans down to cow you back into the bench.  “Maybe I should scare you some more?  The mousey look really suits you.”

“Oh shut up!”  You huff and stand, trying your best to avoid cracking your head off of Leona’s stupidly broad frame as you both go to head towards the cafe.  “Did you look up the menu online or are you just planning on winging it?”

“You really like to put effort into things don’t you?”  Leona doesn’t look or sound too upset but there’s a strange wistfulness to his look you do not really like, but it’s gone before you can pick at it too much.  “Nah I figured I’d just let you pick.”

“Are you sure?”  You try your best not to sound excited, you swear the only thing you admire about Ruggie is his work ethic, not his grift.  “I could just take advantage of you and force you to get a bunch of stuff only I’d like.”  As if he’s reading your mind, Leona's green eyes twinkle with mischief you know will bite you in the ass later.

“Oh no you would never do that.  I know for a fact that you are just too nice for that.”  The “unlike someone else" goes unsaid as Leona decides to really double down on the gentleman act when you reach the cafe, holding the door and not even pretending to look at the menu until you prompt him.

“Do you want to get the reaper soda?”  Leona shrugs. 

“Does it sound like it will taste good to you?”  It does but that’s sort of besides the point, you’re much more interested in the white mage one.

“I just thought you might want the coaster.”  You murmur and he smiles.

“I’d lose something like that real fast, you can just keep it.”  Your eyes have to pop halfway out of your head with how hard he laughs, other patrons shoot a confused look at your table as you try to resist the urge to self combust.  “Let me guess, they’re worth somethin right?  In that case all the more reason for you to keep em.”  The look in his eyes is practically daring you to ask if he’s really sure, but knowing Leona he wants an excuse to tease so for now you swallow your insecurities and point your awkward smile up at the server who comes to take your order.  

“Um can we get one reaper soda, one white mage soda…” your voice trails off and Leona pipes up with the name of a burger you don’t remember reading out to him but they apparently serve anyway with how quickly she notes it down.

“And is the check separate or together?”  She sweetly asks and before you can so much as breathe Leona cuts you off.

“Bill goes to me.”  You glare at him, well try to really Leona’s a hard person to stare down.  “Didn’t I say you could get whatever?”  Not literally, it was more implied along with the trouble that you weren’t expecting to catch up to you this quickly.  His smile widens, not quite wolfishly, more like a lion staring down a particularly foolish gazelle that’s stumbled weak kneed into his territory.  “Go on, tell the nice lady what else you want, she won’t bite you, that's my job.”  Flames aren’t enough anymore.  You need to turn into a particularly fine paste or particle dust to relive how fast your heart is beating.  Luckily for you the server seems amused, letting out a good natured laugh as she shoots you a wink.

“You heard your man, what can we get for you?”  You take back every judgment you have ever passed Ruggie’s way.  With just how proud Leona seems like now he really is asking for it.

 ~~~

“You don’t really do things like this much do ya?”  Leona kept his teasing to a minimum after the bite comment thank god and kept his word about letting you keep the coasters.  Pretty much everything at the cafe seemed to have some sort of First Fantasia themed knick knack you were allowed if not encouraged to take back with you.  Leona had offered to walk you home once you both saw how dark it was, promising that would be your only stop this time much to your relief.  You weren’t sure how much more of his teasing you could take.

“I mean I’ve got Epel, but Ace, Deuce, and Jack don’t really like mmos.”  You aren’t sure if it has ever actually been established if you are friends with Sebek, but unless someone teaches Malleus how to use a mouse you doubt he’s going to be logging into anything other than a literal tree anytime soon.  “Sometimes Epel will send me links to merch he thinks I’d like, but he’s more into the…”  You pause to try and find the words for what it is you want to say, knowing your friend will kill you if you make him look lame.  “Sense of pride and accomplishment you get from beating high end content.”

“That sounds like him.”  Leona says proudly.  “He’s like that with anything mildly competitive.  One of his better qualities, just don’t go telling him I said that.  Wouldn’t want it goin to his head.”  There’s no way you’ll be able to keep his mild praise a secret from Epel forever, but what Leona doesn’t know won’t hurt him too much.  “But that’s not really what I was asking.”  Your pace slows as Leona lapses back into silence and you wrack your brain for what he actually could have meant.  “Do you like going out to cafe’s?”

“I… don’t really know.”  You liked tonight.  Talking to Leona, when he was awake enough to participate, was always fun.  Even when you were trading jabs back and forth in class.  “I used to dream about finally finding someone who I could do stuff like this with, but I kind of gave up after my last date said-”  you freeze in your train of thought and walk.  This had not been a date in any way shape or form.  Sure, Leona played a video game with you, and sure he’s been going out of his way to talk to you in real life more regularly since he came to visit your work.  But it’s not like he did that for any reason other than-  “said it was just too weird.  Said I was just too weird and I guess I just sort of got tired of not being able to talk about things that interested me so I gave up trying.”

“Then why not just date me?”  Leona’s eyes are a really strange shade of green now that you’re staring straight into them.  It’s like he’s got two neon lights shining a spotlight directly on you every time he speaks, judging and picking apart whoever he is looking at.  And right now he is looking pointedly at you, making it clear this isn’t a conversation he is going to let you run from.  “I told you before, didn't I?  I like playing games with you.  I want to spend time with you; I want to hear about your day every day, from what annoyed you to funny things you and your friends did.  I want to see you happy and know I made that happen, because you make my life a happier one just by being in it.  The only thing I have ever not liked about you is that you work too hard, and that’s not unfixable.  You just need to let me be a bad influence on you.”  It’s a confession you never really expected to receive, but somehow so very much him.  It’s insulting, honest, and just a touch demanding but it reaches into that small shrunken part of your heart that you’ve been burying most of your feelings in for who knows how long now and fills it with warmth.

“Would you-”  It feels like a silly question but with how intently Leona is hanging on your every word you feel a rush of power going straight to your head.  “If we were going out would you stop wiping things on purpose?”  He blinks, if he’s surprised by the request or shocked he got this far you don’t quite know, but he quickly recovers, moving into your space to offer his hand.

“If you ask nicely.”  You gladly take the offered arm and influence, squeezing his much larger hand with a soft smile.

“Then it’s a dea-”  Leona cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your mouselike squeak along with most of your air with a speed you didn’t know he possessed.  

“Don’t use that punks line.”  He practically growls and you can’t hold in your happy laughter any longer.  It could just be the streetlights, but you don’t think Leona looks all that mad.  Quite the opposite really, not that you expect him to voice it out loud.  Instead he leans in for another kiss in a gruff effort to show just how much he means what he has been trying to say all along.

I’m happiest when I am doing things with you.

*if you are curious about Leona's outfit, I based it off of Lion King clothing items in Disney Dreamlight Valley (black and gold claw shoes, tan sunny slacks, and the gray claw top for those looking for specifics)

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Thank you for offering your askbox. I've been thinking that Izzy being just a side character whose story wasn't main plot thread makes even better proof that not everything was well planned? If I was a writer and this would be easily the most discussed topic about the finale, I'd reflect on storytelling decisions I made. There's a good reason why Izzy's fate overshadows everything despite that he wasn't the point of the show.

(Post posted 10/31/23) Feel free to comment below if you agree or disagree, we're all here for discussions.

Thank you so much for this amazing question!! [If you're seeing this and want to discuss some aspect of S2, or my thoughts on OFMD overall, SEND ME AN ASK! I love doing this]

TLDR: Vague characterization from historical records means Jenkins is free to bend history without a lot of guilt. During early days of casting and during scene changes Jenkins got inspired by Con's audition tape. Con was told to play this shit as a Jesus/Judas relationship. An amazing performance in S1 keeps the character relevant in fandom spaces in the hiatus, and in Jenkin's mind for S2. The S1 season finale accidentally reveals a really interesting dynamic in Ed/Izzy's relationship. [Speculation from this point on] Jenkins feels like he needs to explore, with little plans to fully explore it. Fleshing out both Ed/Izzy abuse and love.

Jenkins realizes 'Oh shit, Izzy wasn't supposed to be this' midway through S2. But he still follows his original plan in killing him off, because he's not needed for the story in his outline, leading to him accidentally killing off a character as they're growing and healing. Leading to what some consider a move SO off-brand for the show, they are leaving the fandom.

[*Tin Foil Hat On*] I expect the original cut of S2 to include more scenes of the crew. I bet for every other Izzy scene, we got a crew scene. So when 'extra' not plot-relevant scenes had to get cut, they kept the Izzy scenes due to Izzy's stable arc, the fact that he'd die at the end either way and Con's amazing performance.

EXPLINATION AND DEPTH BELOW! It's a long one. A lot of this post will be speculation, interviews from Jenkins, and highly dependent on if you were in fandom between seasons 1 and 2. If you need me to hunt for sources, I can do that for you.

I'll separate everything into a chronological timeline as much as possible.

Before we touch on why Jenkins wrote Izzy to stick out in the story, we need to assume how he outlined this entire show.

Pre Con O'Neill:

I am of the personal belief that Jenkins likely wrote out an imagined arc for Ed and Stede. Including a lot of cool set pieces, fights, etc. for the three seasons he wanted vaguely based on the real lives of Stede Bonnet and Edward Teach(watch a YouTube vid documenting their history, it's a wild ride) turning it into something explicitly romantic. This is easy enough to do, as most of what we know about them was written YEARS after their deaths.

Next was filling in the cast. This is where we get our crew, mostly characters Jenkins made up, as very little is known of the men either sailed with.

Izzy Hands being a pirate under the age of 18 whose notable actions with Blackbeard include- Captaining his own vessel, running a ship aground, being Blackbeard's first mate, and getting shot by Blackbeard maybe on accident.

[THEORY] So. If you're any writer you see that and think 'cool a side character we know almost nothing about'. You slot him in as being Edward's one thing keeping him to the pirate lifestyle. Not necessarily romantic, but a serious Boss/underling relationship. This is a bit of how Izzy was written in S1 UNTIL-

Con O'Neill is cast as Izzy.

In interview, Jenkins has admitted that Con's audition tapes influenced how he wrote Izzy. As a writer, this shouldn't necessarily be ringing red flags. But he has gone on record as admitting to changing the script before shooting to suit Con. IN SEASON 1. My guess is Izzy at the end of episode 10 was meant to be more of a side character. Another Frenchie, or Wee John, who serves their purpose and then gets pushed to the side by the plot.

But at some point, Jenkins wrote how important the dynamic was between Ed and Izzy. Describing Izzy/Ed to Con before filming S1 of a 'Jesus and Judas' relationship like in Jesus Christ Superstar.

If you tell a (then closeted) queer actor who has been playing queer roles since the 1990s that his leather daddy character was having a Jesus&Judas JSC dynamic in a TV show that respects and celebrates queerness? 🤩 MY GOD.

[Speculation] That's how we get an Izzy Hands who is watching the man in front of him slip away, trying to dig his heels in. Hell, if I were Jenkins, I'd be adding a few more lines for Izzy to be pissed just to see Con have fun in the role. Let him be mad. Let him be in the background of scenes just glaring. Let us see a man slowly lose something he's built up his whole life.

[As mentioned from Comic Con- From Con O'Neill] This was important for me to bring up as Jenkins could have said 'henchman' but he didn't. Hell, when Taika and Con did hair and makeup they'd listen to the JCS cast album. It was a choice on both their parts.

[ovservation from here on out] Con plays it up, and a lot of queer fans saw this and grabbed hold of a man so desperate to keep the man he loved close that he sacrifices almost everything for it (Izzy also signs the Act of Grace to get Ed out of there).

Izzy, in a show full of openly queer people, is still on the fringe of society. SO MANY queers saw this and said 'OMG me'. ME INCLUDED. With a super supportive actor who genuinely is respectful of the fandom? Of art, and fic and meta? The Izzy 'Canyon' became so loyal because Con is a Queer Elder we didn't know we all needed in our lives!

Jenkins accidentally wrote into what could be an amazing story of a queer character living in a homophobic society where he learns to open himself up. All without ever writing a 'coming out' scene for Izzy. Jenkins knows this. Hell, since S1 Izzy fans have been telling him how cool that type of arc would be.

Now here comes the issue of where to take a side character, when you have loose plans for them.

S1 IS TIGHTLY WRITTEN ONTO ITSELF... S2?

Something we might forget now is HOW tightly written Izzy's falling out with Ed is tied into Stede and Ed falling in love. Beat per beat, Izzy is shoved away as Stede takes his place. That's really fucking smart. So smart, it was planned in the writer's room. The fact that some took it as romantic, that Ed could ever really love him back? Well...this is where Jenkins had a decision to make.

So he dips his toe. Let's make Ed even more violent than at the end of S1ep10. Let's include the bit where Blackbeard shoots Izzy Hands. Let's have Izzy confess his love for Ed and have it not be enough for Ed to change his mind. Let's show Izzy rising like a phoenix reborn after a failed suicide attempt where Izzy chooses to mutiny on Ed to protect the crew. Let's see Izzy growing. Because Jenkins loves Con's performance. Everyone in the cast enjoys him as a person. Let's give Izzy one last hurrah.

Jenkins knows this character meant a lot to Con. It's obvious in the way Jenkins recently confessed he told Con about Izzy's death midway through shooting. Sadly we likely will never be told when Con was told. But imagining Con filming the AMAZING character change of S2eps 1-2, then AFTER being told Izzy would die anyway? Oh. I wouldn't be alright. Not after all his fans had spent the last year telling him how much seeing a character like Izzy 'being accepted because they are worthy of love'.

This is the 1 thing that fucks me up. Not telling Con until midway through shooting, Versus his belief that writing Izzy's death was a fitting way to end his story. BOTH CAN'T BE TRUE. Right? If Jenkins felt the need to take con aside and go grab a meal to announce Izzy was dying but then market the ending as a 'Good Idea'. Then...What? If Con felt it fit the character, then he would have likely guessed Izzy would die. But that wasn't the vibe in the fandom at the time. It feels like a decision Jenkins made this season.

Because yes, some general audiences predicted that Izzy would die. But when your core fanbase for a character don't expect it, you didn't plan the death correctly. Fuck, I thought Izzy was trying to RECOVER this whole season. Not that Izzy was hiding how hard he was struggling. That's not a good sign when I've ALWAYS called Izzy as some brand of suicidal/depressed.

[Quote from Jenkins Entertainment Article: Oct 26 2023] 'What's the best journey we can give him(Izzy)? And what's the most interesting thing we can do with Con, who can do just about anything?'

That is not the quote of an author who has planned everything out. That's a writer who knows points A and E and is fighting to find everything in between.

The Fly in My Ointment

There's a point most writers know when a character or story slips out from under you. You didn't mean for this to happen. Hell, I write Scene by Scene outlines. My stories change. When Izzy Hands' growth arc became the most interesting part of S2, Jenkins had a choice.

How far was he willing to bend his idea to keep a character that wasn't 'essential'? Not that fucking far apparently. Because for some reason, Jenkin's labeled Izzy in his mind as 'Blackbeard' and tied Ed and Izzy's fates together. Ignoring how this season Izzy died to separate his old life with Ed from his new life with this crew.

Your question poses it perfectly- If I was a writer and this would be easily the most discussed topic about the finale, I'd reflect on storytelling decisions I made. There's a good reason why Izzy's fate overshadows everything despite that he wasn't the point of the show.

That's a trick they teach you in some writing podcasts. That in the end, you are telling one story. You can have twenty side characters and a romance arc, but in the end, you are telling one story. Each side character is going to show what happens when you fail or succeed at the central thesis.

What do we have in S1? What does Frenchie sing to set up where our story STARTS-

"A pirate’s life, [it’s] short but nice,” -“we won’t live long,”  AND “to death we go, a certain death we go.”

Our characters expect a short simple life of what most pirates EXPECT. In my mind, this story has ALWAYS been about survival. From the extravagance of Stede's ship, and a crew ready to throw him overboard, to the barebones Shark eats Shark type of survival described in Ed's own fleet. OFMD is about living in a world that doesn't want you there. About surviving and thriving. About these two men from different worlds coming together and forging a life of kindness for them and for their family.

Saying fuck you, I'm here, I'm still alive, and I'm going to THRIVE. I deserve kindness, happiness, love, and a fully lived life. I deserve to spend my short time on this Earth happy.

IN S2? The ONLY character that matches this thesis is Izzy. After scenes of Izzy struggling. Of finding himself. Of crawling up from his own personal hell, Izzy dies. He dies from a random bullet wound in the same spots that didn't kill Stede or Ed in the previous season. Breaking the one established rule for wounds in this universe that the left side is the safe side so that Izzy can die.

Even if Izzy spent this entire season wanting to die, he tried to live. For a few days after a breakup of over 20+ years of casual intimacy. Of a bond where Izzy was the murderer, the brawn. The dangerous right hand. Where Izzy dying meant not just his death, but likely that of Ed. Given the man's constant depressive moods, crews that didn't like him, and reoccurring suicidal tendencies. Ed didn't need Izzy Hands anymore. Ed had Stede now. He was ready to finally leave Izzy for good. What will Izzy Hands do now?

He gave up. He tried to move on. He listened after being told he was too rough, too loud, too mean. He tried. He tried to survive this new way of life surrounded by people who supported him. But he was tired. After so many years of putting up a mask, tearing it down was too much work. So he wanted to die. In the end. Izzy died in the arms of Edward surrounded by his family.

Buried on a plot of land Jenkins has already told us Stede and Ed will leave when things get boring. Left behind like the corpse of a pet the family has forgotten. Buried without his ring and cravat, items Izzy is only seen without when he's naked. Without the prosthetic gifted to him by a family that cared about him.

Izzy wasn't mourned for more than five seconds, before Stede and Ed were making jokes on his fresh grave, and then the episode moves on to a wedding.

RIP Izzy Hands- a man who loved more than he was ever loved in return.

Was this the right message? FUCK No. But for those of us who believed that theme of queer survival and community- We saw framing Izzy's death like this as a fucking betrayl.

Izzy Hands isn't buried with his most prized possessions- they're left out to be stolen or rot in the front yard. With only one man crying over his death and a silent funeral. He leaves this world without more than a 'he was intense'. Which...isn't great coming from the man Izzy loved for most of his life.

The reason why we're mad about Izzy isn't that it's Izzy. It's that when we boarded this flight we were given a set of rules to follow. It's a comedy about men falling in love on a boat that sometimes gets serious. That's it. To watch a character start to grow only to die for NO PLOT SPECIFIC REASON. Is insulting. If your death has no tie to the narrative (sacrifice or it comes with a revelation) it's a death just set up for shock. Izzy and Ed could have had that deathbed confession talk at the start of episode 7.

A REASON WHY I'M MAD BEYOND THAT SPECIFICALLY. [Very Personal Gripe]

A SALUTE TO CON O'NEILL -AGAIN!

I had the privilege of hyper-fixating on this show from the entirety of S1 ending to S2 beginning. During this time I explored the catalog of Con O'Neill's work on Tumblr under the tag 'Conography'. I watched this man play queer roles since the 1990s. Genderqueer/somewhere on the Trans spectrum, Gay, Bi. This man loves to play a queer story, even if it's sad. If it's tragic. He will breathe new life into their lungs and express their moments of Joy. Of love. Of community.

After the filming of S2 at a con, Con he felt comfortable publicly coming out due to the love and support he felt from our fandom. Do you know JUST how crazy that is? That Con KNEW Izzy was dead, yet he loved our fandom so much he let himself be vulnerable, and come out as queer? It's fucking INSANE to me, and shows just how much this show means to him.

He's not just Queer. He's a Queer fucking elder whose been protective of this entire community since S1. This 57-year-old man has proudly stood up in the name of Trans rights this entire time. Treating everyone, but especially Trans Izzy fans with so much fucking respect. Trans Izzy is a common headcanon partially because of how comfortable people feel knowing they won't get harassed because they interpret Izzy a certain way. That trans people feel at home seeing themselves as a misunderstood character with a chip on their shoulder.

I'm pissed for every in universe thing listed above AND NOW THIS. Because our Queer Elders are dead. There is a generation of Queer people we can never get back. They died from a mix of society pressuring these people into the closet or an early grave. Of disease running wild in communities unchecked. Of media ruining the careers of anyone who dared to come out. To see Con O'Neill So Fucking Happy and having it cut short because Jenkins thought Izzy was better dead than being an actual background character makes me see fucking red.

No. Jenkins probably didn't know Con was Queer when writing S2. But I'm assuming he still saw how happy Con was at Izzy fans before S2 was written which still makes it feel shitty.

Sure. Give Izzy all the amazing speeches about family and belonging and rip that right from his hands as soon as Izzy realizes it's something he might want for himself. Let's have Con O'Neill say all the prominent lines that are a blatant metaphor for why the Queer community needs to stick together.

Izzy's arc isn't just overshadowing the conversation because it was mismanaged and feels unplanned, it also just feels cruel to the central arc of this series. Add that to an actor who was so vocal about loving this community, it feels pointed to give him a tragic ending.

Jenkins doesn't need to consider why people hated this finale. Because there are SO MANY Ed/Stede fans who just don't care. They put Izzy in the box with every other side character and decided to put their effort into the protagonists and point and laugh when we suffer. Jenkins won't rethink anything because he can just say the 'Izzy community was passionate and are sad their favorite died'. Ignoring how this season made Stede into a shittier, less sympathetic captain and gave Ed an interesting arc only to give up before the finish line.

[dolusdiu]

(   nicola coughlan .  demi-woman  .  she/her/they/them  )       —       blasting  reverberate  by  bears in trees  down  main  street  we’ve  spotted  NIAMH  O’CLEARY  sporting  their  navy  polkadot dress and a wide smile.  the  thirty-five  ( seven-hundred and thirty-two )  year  old  REAPER  who’s  been  in  town  for  two weeks  often  can  be  seen  feeding the birds,  visiting  local shops,  and exploring & re-exploring the fair,  or  working  as  an  ANESTHESIOLOGIST   at  PORTUM GENERAL.  people  say  they  display  sunny  and  naive  traits,  but  we  rather  trust  their  vibes:  tea stained notebooks, a brisk morning with a luminous sunrise, handmade wreaths draped around illegible gravestones, a gentle hand brushing away a tear, and unshapely hideous but somehow delicious cookies.  also,  we’ve  heard  they  love  doves !   aren’t  they  fascinating ?

QUICK FACTS.

full name: niamh o'cleary nicknames: nee, vee age: 35 / 732 birthday: october 5th orientation: bisexual/demisexual family: none that she remembers marital status: widowed faceclaim: nicola coughlan hair: soft copper eyes: cool blue traits: sunny, naive, bubbly, innocent, compassionate, lonely, emotionally-reserved inspirations: hannah grose ( haunting of bly manor ), new scamander ( fantastic beasts and where to find them ), ted lasso ( ted lasso ), anna ( frozen ), merlin ( merlin ), tara maclay ( buffy the vampire slayer ), castiel ( supernatural ), jane bennett ( pride and prejudice ), tanjiro kamado ( demon slayer )

QUICK BACKGROUND.

niamh doesn't remember much of her early years. she has a feeling that every few hundred years her memory fades to repress all the things she's had to leave behind. so she doesn't really remember coming into existence. she also doesn't know her real name. she changes it every few hundred years. it often has irish origins, but she doesn't know why she's drawn to that.

she's always helped souls cross over and found that to be very fulfilling. she loves it, even if sometimes it's hard. it often kept her travelling as well and she didn't mind that. a few hundred years back though, she met a woman, anne, and was surprised when they were a nymph. she didn't often have a lot of dealings with immortal species, nothing prolonged at least. niamh liked her well enough but she figured their friendship would end like most others in her life.

she'd fallen in love before, but nothing like anne. maybe immortality gave niamh the time to really truly fall. after fifty years of meeting on and off, they finally started dating. it was perfection. and it was supposed to be forever. but immortality is the greatest gift when you have forever to spend it with someone, and the worst curse when you've lost them.

the loss of her wife made niamh struggle with being a reaper for the first time in her life. she'd prioritized one thing above death just once and as if to remind her that she couldn't escape it, she lost the very thing. after a century or so, niamh recovered and started guiding spirits again.

she's lost a spark she once had but stumbling into portum, she's wondering if she's found just the place to recover it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

give me people she's met before outside portum pls

all friends, calling all friends, this gorl needs friends

i would love a ghost of a spirit that she's tried to guide before ooo might have to make a wc for that

someone grumpy or gloomy??? please let my lil sunshine be their foil

i would love for someone to explain work life balance to this gorl because they do not understand that their life's purpose doesn't have to be death, pls they're still not over their wife

[mellxncollie]

hi olly!! gonna be greedy and ask for a fun fact from Let me bleed instead of you AND fire lookout au (my beloved), and anything you might want to mention about your gifs, mwah <333

alex you get all the fun facts!!

let me bleed instead of you fun fact:

Chapters 1-4 deal with the developing and hiding of secrets, and 5-8 are more about the sharing and revealing of secrets. The early secret reveals all mostly happen "off screen," so here's when those secrets are actually revealed:

2011 - Edwin talks to Charles about things he was thinking about during Chapter 3, and also starts to reveal stuff about Hell (Ch. 1).

2011-2023 - Edwin continues to occasionally share parts of what happened in Hell (Ch. 1) over the next decade or so, usually during quiet moments around the office.

2023 - Charles opens up about his anger (Ch. 2), partially as shown in canon, and also more shortly after Port Townsend (he's trying to be more open about things because Edwin shared this big thing and he wants to reciprocate somehow). Also, as we see in canon, the rest of Edwin's secrets about Hell all come to light (Ch. 1)

2024 - Charles has a discussion with Edwin about his fear of water (Ch. 4), probably as a result of something happening during a case and also involving the Night Nurse.

2025 - Edwin comes clean about actually visiting Charles' grave (Ch. 3), if I were to ever write a follow up, it would probably be this scene, though I don't have any plans (or time) to do that right now.

fire lookout au fun fact:

Charles' "death" is reworked in the AU (nearly dying of Hypothermia in the rain), and Edwin's "death" isn't really included beyond some vague references he mentions in writings to Niko about "the Incident" but there is a whole story there, inspired by the idea of "development Hell" but reworked for the book publishing industry (I know very little about the way the actual publishing industry works so let's just pretend that this is all normal and makes sense):

Edwin published two very popular horror/fantasy novels while in university, the first was about boys sacrificing their schoolmate, and was inspired by something more mundane that happened to him while at boarding school as a kid. The publisher signed him on, with the caveat that he would write a sequel to this first novel. However, none of his ideas/proposals were panning out, and the publisher kept rejecting them. They did publish his second (unrelated) book, but then he kept writing other stuff that they would refuse to even look at until he wrote a sequel that they liked. Lots of personal differences were involved, hurt feelings, etc. Four-ish years after the second book, he's called in by his publisher, and they release him from having to do a sequel, but also basically cut him off, saying they'll never work with him again. The sequel cancellation is announced, to the dismay of a lot of readers. He loses his agent, his publisher, and many of his fans who are hurt after being strung along for so long (It's been about 6 years since the first one comes out).

gif fun fact!

A lot of my sets end up having gifs cut from them, including ones that aren't edits. Like I'll delete the first or last gif just before pressing post. For example, this set only has 3 gifs. Originally, it also included this one at the start, which I only cut minutes before posting it since I decided the set was best and more emblematic if it was just 3 gifs of the 3 characters.

(I do love this gif since he's just so wiggly!)