#old man!klok

[romeoeatzkorn]

Retired!Klok redesign!!! Mordaface >:) though he’s the only one who actually got a design, but I guess I’ll have to get to making the others then lol

No glasses ver under the cut

[ask-retired-klok]

Skwisgaar, what is your favorite place you've traveled to?

// I’m not the best at writing Toki and Skwisgaar’s accents but I hope I did it well

[explosiontooth]

Need someone to discuss the mythology of the metalocalypse world with ugh

[procrazedfan]

I wish you would write a fic where Lucius bonds with has half siblings (A one shot collection would be a good fit for it!)

I have a few interactions planned in the near future, but for now here is a vingette of sorts with perspective from an old character. The Pack

The Houndmaster chuckled in his usual hiding tree as he watched the now healthy albino pup run around with the rest of the rejected pack. 

His instinct about the Young Master was correct. Though, he knew better than anyone that the wolves always knew the truth about the heart of any man. They had raised him, after all. 

His ears picked up the sound of childish laughter from the North, where the “other pups” were sitting. They had been getting more active since springtime, as pups often did.

Robin sat with their legs criss crossed laughing with their older half brother who had paid them a rare visit.

Lucius patiently waited for Robin to take the lead in their game of “See and Do”, something he had read in his child development studies. 

There was really no successful roadmap for caring for children who were considered “feral”. It had been made expressly clear to him by many members of the staff that plucking the children out of the woods and forcing them back into their old lives would be more traumatizing than helpful. A point he had to, unfortunately, concede. 

But that did not mean he would stop his efforts in seeing to their needs. 

Vaccinations, tracking devices, and shelter access from the rain were the bare minimum. There also needed to be people on the ground who could interact with his half siblings often enough for them to at least be consistently cared for. 

With little speech and behavior development games like this one, daily. 

Robin touched their nose. Lucius touched his.

Robin touched their ear. Lucius repeated. 

Giggling to themselves, Robin whistled at a high pitch in delight.

Lucius tried…but failed miserably. He never could suck in the air right. 

Robin poked at his cheeks, laughing at his expense. 

Two more from the tribe “attacked” him from behind with their fingers already tickling his ribs, obeying the orders of their leader. Lucius should have seen it coming. Robin was always one prone to trickery and this time was no exception.

The Houndmaster, still watching from his tree, shook his head with a smile hidden under his bushy beard.

There wasn’t a single brutal bone in the Young Master’s body.

But he supposed that the regime of brutality would not last forever, even if it was a divine expression of the Klok. It might have been heresy if he said it out loud to his peers, but part of him believed that the gentle open hand of peace was an adequate balance to the might of the brutal fist. Perhaps that was why the band blessed the world with their offspring.

Hope for a peaceful future after a long fought war.

[tixuctoad]

WOE metalocalypse oc in casual wear be upon thee

(I am putting off drawing them in their klokateer outfit)

Anyways mini lore/background dump under the cut + close up n wips, I can't contain the silliness anymore

Anyways flick (any pronouns) works at mordhaus as a klokateer and had been a klokateer since like. Early days of the band/when they first started hiring them. Very silly. Old man. Pre-klokateer uuuuuuh kind of just bouncing around from place to place looking for easy jobs and by chance finding out that the band was hiring (on the fence on if they even knew about dethklok before seeing the job opening and hype, because I think it would be a little funny if they only vaguely knew of them)

Uuuuh personality.... Uhh when they're on the klok (snorts) they're pretty much 100% focused on their job and they are ruthless. Very precise and thorough with their klokateer duties. As for when they're not working or in more casual moments/settings, they're more laid-back! They do hold a deep passion and care for the people around them, at least the ones they are close with! Dad energy, is the best way I can describe it. Mixed with the "gentle giant" trope except when they're working .. Dad activities like camping and fishing!! Oddly enough their burn scars aren't from their time working with the band; rather that's from something that happened at least a decade before learning about dethklok

Old

Very old 50 by the beginning of season 1, assuming each season takes place when it aired

[dethkomic]

Is Abigail gonna eventually make an appearance here?

Man I want Abigail to be in Dethkomic so bad it's unreal. But, at the time this story is taking place with regards to canon, we're two seasons too early and I don't have anything written that requires a flash-forward.

However.

You'll see at the end there is room for me to continue a lot of threads I've started. I've actually already come close to having the backbones of a story treatment which would continue into the seasons we've seen since the Baen-Shee story was penned (which was also before season 2 wrapped) as well as span the major events of my old AU, here. In fact, of the original fanfics I wrote, all 6 of them were mostly completed before season 3 began. I think I was literally writing the last chapters of the last book when we hit the mid-season break, in fact. So a lot has happened canonically that I think would be awesome to explore.

Things I'm considering:

The Dethkomic sequel happens, canonically, after the movie: This is the biggest "what if" on the table, possibly. I am looking at a possible break after Chapter 4 which might take us to the time after the movie has premiered, so that'd certainly allow for a good amount of breathing room, but I have a feeling if I do want to continue these stories, I'm going to want to do so sooner than that and hey... who the hell knows what'll happen during the finale? Still, Abigail would likely make an appearance.

The Dethkomic sequel happens sometime after Season 3 and before Doomstar: My favorite option for including Abigail and a whole butt-ton of lore that we've learned. Especially if I wrote it as happening after Charles' big reveal about the Church of the Black Klok and all that. Especially-especially because in writing my fics all those years ago, we only knew that *something* was going on with ol' CFO's interactions with some supernatural craziness, and no details. With a few of those blanks filled in, I'd have a lot of fun merging old stories and speculation with what's come about since.

Or, you know... it could also just be a huge pain in the ass. Still, this is probably my favorite idea of the three.

And finally... The Dethkomic sequel(s) happen(s) as a series of flashbacks: Post-Doomstar, maybe post-movie, but Abigail is getting caught up on things that happened before she was involved with the band. This idea came as a means of tying my follow-up fics together into a sort of clip-show, and I'd likely do them as one-shots, and each one not nearly as long as Dethkomic. Appealing for how "complete" I could make something, but feels kinda cheap at the same time. An idea I'm not disregarding, but my least favorite so far.

But yeah, in all three aspects, we're looking at including Abigail and a lot of other characters we've met from Season 3, onward. Up until a few months ago, I wasn't even sure I'd go into sequel territory (beyond Harmonic Odyssey, that is), but the series has maintained its popularity to a point where people are starting to ask about things that I can't explain in 80 pages or so... and I'm motivated and would really like to explore them.

Also, I realize this was probably way more than you cared to know, OP, but, hey! There ya go :)

Thank you for the question! Dethkomic loves you!

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[dethshit]

Brandon Small, Take Notes

Day 2 - A MTL Movie Prediction

Toki shook with fear as he clung to Skwisgaar's hand as the band headed further into the temple of the Black Klok. He tried to stay as close to Skwisgaar as he could without the Swede getting annoyed and pushing him away.

Two figures pushed open the double burgundy doors for the band, their faces shadowed by hoods. They lowered their heads as Nathan walked past first.

The doors closed after Murderface crossed the threshold last. He turned around to grimace at the door.

Pickles looked around, staying close to Nathan's side. "This place is fockin' weird, doods." He mumbled with a frown as he glanced around the barely lit room.

Nathan elbowed his side to keep the shorter man quiet as the five of them came to a stop just before a massive podium. It was dark grey with a skull very similar to Facebones etched into the front.

Toki immediately moved to cling to Nathan's back as a door opened from the side. Red light spilled into the dark room as another hooded figure came into the room.

This person was shorter than the two outside the doors. They were only a few inches taller than Pickles, dressed in blood red robes with black fur lining the hood. They walked up to the podium and climbed up the two steps to tower over the band. "Ah... hello again, boys."

All five men froze, eyes going wide. They knew that voice! They knew that particular pause, that fucking speech pattern!

"Offdensens!" Toki squealed, sprinting past Nathan to tackle Charles off the podium.

Charles squawked as he fell backwards with Toki on top of him, squeezing his middle as tight as he could. "Y-Yes, hello Toki." He wheezed between his bruised ribs.

Toki rubbed his face against the robe, tears gathering in his eyes. "Yous lefts withouts saying goodsbyes to me!" He cried into the blood red cloth.

Charles pushed his hood back while he awkwardly patted Toki's back. His hair had grown since his time as the band's manager, the back now touching his shoulders. Silver had weaved through the chocolate brown strands. He had traded his square frames for half moon glasses with metal armature.

"You look old, dood." Pickles commented with a smirk.

Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to push Toki off once the hug started to get uncomfortable. "Very hilarious. May we comment on my appearance after you all save the world once again?"

Toki squeezed harder when he felt Charles' hand sneak between his arms. "Nos!"

"Toki, please."

"Nos! Yous gonna leaves again!"

Charles winced. The comment stung a little more than he cared to admit. He sighed heavily. "Very well. At least let me stand."

Toki nodded and Charles stood to his feet. Toki wrapped his arms around Charles again, gripping him by the shoulders now.

Charles awkwardly waddled back towards the podium and grabbed the black leather bound book. "Now. Let's get to work."

[mattievictoria]

Your Sight shall be in my Sight

in whose name you rest here

I will not disturb you

but hoped that you

in the name of peace may sleep

so that I may see the Hidden

and see its power

hear in celebration

and help in need.

Could you

O Holy Ghost

give to me of your power

In the name of the Holy Crucified One

Amen.

— From The Graveyard Wanderers— The Wise Ones And The Dead In Sweden by Thomas Johnson

These words were uttered as their speaker crossed themselves over a gravestone in a churchyard. When the speaker had finished the invocation, they then made the sign of the cross over each of their eyelids, three times. To the Klok— “The Wise Ones”, the folk healers and magicians of Scandinavia— graveyards, burial mounds, old execution sites and other such areas where the spirits of the dead dwelt were sacred places. In Sweden, these individuals were known as Kyrkogårdsgångare, or Graveyard Walker. The term is related to gengångare, which in Swedish means “those who walk again”. The word can be translated as “ghost”, but their form is entirely corporeal; not see-through or specter-like as phantoms in the Anglosphere tend to be.

The dead serviced the Graveyard Walkers in many ways. One could summon the spirits of the departed and ask for their service in everything from revealing secrets and hidden knowledge to obtaining lottery numbers. Or, a Graveyard Walker could utilize the dead in a more tangible fashion: both the left collar bone of an elderly man and the left ring finger of a corpse were considered to be among the best amulets for protection. (However, before the Wise One left the earthly plane, they must of course return the borrowed bone back to its original resting place.) Everything, right down to the very soil of the graveyard, was used: from rubbing Graveyard dirt on the skin to cure rashes, to drinking it in a slurry to restore a loss of appetite.

But how did one become a Graveyard Walker and a Wise One? There is the aforementioned invocation of course, but there was also the ancient practice of Uttesittning. Uttesittning is a ritual where one meditates in nature from sunset to sunrise, opening the soul and merging with the world of the spirits. There is one legend where one would go to a churchyard or any other places affiliated with burial or the dead for three consecutive Thursday nights to perform an Uttesittning ritual (Thursdays were important, as they were sacred to the old god Thor). On the third and final Thursday, a dark man might perhaps appear and reward the one performing this ritual with a gift. There are some stories that claim that the gift was a Book of Black Arts— a Svarteboken, or “black book”, also known as a Cyprianus (named after St. Cyprian). It was said these Black Arts Books would be written in blood, or written on black pages with white ink. A Wise One would keep all their spells in such books, which contained everything from Kabbalist literature to farm and home recipes.

The Wise Ones and Graveyard Walkers are endlessly fascinating to me, as well as folk magic in general. I hope to create many more artworks inspired by this topic, and I hope that I’ve piqued your interest in it as well!

For more books on this subject:

Gårdbäck, Johannesburg Björn. Trolldom: Spells and Methods of the Norse Folk Magic Tradition. The Ironwode Institution for the Preservation and Popularization of Indigenous Ethnomagicology (YIPPIE), 2015.

Johnson, Thomas. The Graveyard Wanderers — The Wise Ones and the Dead in Sweden. Society of Esoteric Endeavor, 2013.

Sibley, J.T. The Way of the Wise. XLIBRIS, 2013.

A special thanks to my friend Eli, for all your insight into Swedish folklore and folk magic!

[romeoeatzkorn]

Retired!Klok Toki!!!!!

Similar to Nathan, Toki got some time to manage himself; and with his recently gained wisdom, he decided to finally to go to therapy— which has been working wonders.

[ask-retired-klok]

Hey folks!

Sorry but the ask box is going to be down for awhile :( I am currently in my last few weeks of this semester so I won't be able to answer anything AT THE MOMENT; my apologies to any who this inconveniences

[fishklok]

Metalocalypse Emetophobia Watch Guide: Season 1

I'm still finishing seasons 3 and 4, but I figured I might as well post what I have so far.

Season 2

Notes:

all terms are censored (i.e. "v*") and time stamps are included.

i'm only going off of my copies of the episodes, but the time stamps may not be 100% accurate for everyone, so general scene warnings are given too.

this is just a guide for emeto content. other bodily functions, gore, or other sensitive topics were not accounted for.

Summary:

safe episodes: Performance Klok, FatKlok, Go Forth and Die*, Religionklok, Dethclown, Girlfriendklok, Dethstars

gray area (i.e. no on-screen v*, but approach with caution if you're particularly sensitive): The Curse of Dethklok, Dethfam, Snakes N’ Barrels, Skwisklok, Murdering Outside the Box, Bluesklok

explicit episodes: Dethwater, Happy Dethday/Birthdayface, Dethtroll, Dethkomedy, Mordland, Dethkids, The Metalocalypse Has Begun

Episode 1 - The Curse of Dethklok: Safe, although the camera does go into Nathan’s mouth and throat at 10:21-10:26

Episode 2 - Dethwater:

Murderface v* on himself

7:05-7:07

Scene where Murderface, Nathan, and Pickles talk in the submarine - 6:30-7:08

Scene ends at 7:08 when Knubbler boards the submarine

Episode 3 - Happy Dethday/Birthdayface:

The tribunal segment briefly shows the v* scene from the previous episode in a montage

3:41-3:54

Continues to loop in the background for most of the expert’s speech.

Scene is safe at 3:54

Scene ends at 4:10 in Murderface’s room

G*gging sounds when Murderface chokes Dr. Rockso with the balloon bass.

7:07-7:14

Scene is safe at 7:15 when the Klokateers start kicking Dr. Rockso on the ground

Danish Queen v* after trying the cake

8:20-8:35

Scene is safe when song ends at 8:35

Episode 4 - Dethtroll:

Toki and Skwisgaar make references to t* u*

0:32-0:36

Scene is safe at 0:37 when Charles hands out the Dethphones.

Troll v* up blood (and most of its insides)

10:41-10:58

Scene is safe when the troll explodes at 10:58

Episode 5 - Dethkomedy:

An old lady in the audience v* during Nathan’s Body Bag sketch.

5:06-5:12

Scene is safe when Pickles starts his set at 5:12

A man in the audience v* during Murderface’s comedy set in the montage

8:46-8:50

Scene is safe when the montage cuts to Pickles drinking shots at 8:51

Episode 6 - Dethfam:

Skwisgaar references t* u* at 5:39-5:42 when he walks to the urinal

Misophonia warning: 7:52-8:08 when Stella Murderface eats a hot dog.

The sounds Seth makes when Pickles chokes him (9:14-9:41) could be triggering.

Episode 7 - Performance Klok: Safe

Episode 8 - Snakes N’ Barrels:

No on-screen v* at least, but Murderface talks about t* u* at 10:48

Episode 9 - Mordland:

Band meeting scene becomes unsafe after Toki hands Pickles a sandwich.

Contains g*, talking about t* u*, a b*limia reference from Murderface, and on-screen v*

3:48-4:27

On screen v*: 4:04-4:27

Scene is safe again when the fans are shown standing outside Skwisgaar’s room at 4:28.

Nathan v* during the surgery

5:49-5:53

Scene becomes safe again when the fans are shown waiting in line for the secret song at 5:54.

Episode 10 - FatKlok: Safe

Episode 11 - Skwisklok:

Skwisgaar talks about t* u*

1:11-1:12

Scene ends at theme song, 1:13

Episode 12 - Murdering Outside the Box: Safe

Although the camera does go inside Nathan’s mouth after Charles tells the band that someone is embezzling from them.

Happens right before the intro song.

Episode 13 - Go Forth and Die: Safe

Although, Pickles does reference a song that has t* u* in the title when he’s going over polymeters with Nathan.

6:40-6:45

Episode 14 - Bluesklok:

Nathan and Murderface reference t* u* during their “blues-giving session”

5:45-6:00

Episode 15 - Religionklok: Safe

Episode 16 - Dethkids:

During the Dethklok Minute segment, Pickles is shown covered in v*

0:37-0:42

Scene is safe when the host introduces the interview with Pickles at the bar.

Camera goes inside Nathan’s mouth after Pickles apologizes to him at 5:50

Scene is ends at 5:53 when Murderface and Knubbler are in the recording studio

Episode 17 - Dethclown: Safe

Episode 18 - Girlfriendklok: Safe

Episode 19 - Dethstars: Safe

Episode 20 - The Metalocalypse Has Begun:

Cardinal Ravenwood v* as Salacia blinds him

It’s his intestines, not v*, but it still comes out of his mouth.

10:24-10:33

Scene is safe at 10:34 when Salacia commands General Crozier to sleep.

[atmilliways]

Both going to grab the same thing and touching hands, then making eye contact.

[cliche tropes & prompts]

You got it! This prompt is from January, so here's PROOF that I really AM still working on old requests. 😂

You didn't specify a fandom or pairing, so I just went with some pre-klok Nathan and Skwisgaar. Some discussion of condoms and totally gay kissing included.

They Both, They Both They Both Reached For

“So, uh. How’s it going?” Nathan asked absently while he dug around in the bathroom drawer dor a condom. What a dumb idea to just dump them all in there loose like this, who’s dumbass idea had that been—but then, nothing else in their apartment was very organized, so why would this be.

“Eughhhhh, pretty goods.” Skwisgaar, looking impatiently over the other man’s shoulder. “I means, I ams here. Waitings for this pro-fah-crack-tits thing all yous Ameriscans womens ams obsessings with just to get into-sides of you knows whats. This whole times.”

“Alright, fucking . . . shut up a minute.”

With a jerk, Nathan pulled the drawer completely out of the cabinet and dumped the contents on the corroded countertop. He poked through the resulting mess with a finger, frowning. The condom wrappers were flashy and distinctive, so they should have been easy to spot. Except. . . . .

Nothing was catching his eye.

“Fuck, I think. . . . I think we’re out.”

“Noooooooooooooes,” Skwisgaar moaned in anguish, crowding close to see for himself. Unfortunately for Nathan, that meant scrawny guitarist chest pressed against one side of his back—and they’d both just been engaged in activities that had involved a certain amount of getting sweaty. Gross.

They both saw it at the same time: one last condom. The last condom, aka ticket to getting laid, aka all inclusive evening vacation to pound town. Both men thought, Mine!

Nathan was closer, but Skwisgaar had longer arms. First, their hands banged together. They each whipped their heads around to glare at each other, vivid green irritated frown meeting icy blue suspicious glare. Then they descended into an unruly mess of reaching for it and trying to stop the other from getting anywhere near it at the same time.

Before long, the scuffle went from just hands, to arms, to a full bodies event. Nathan banged an elbow on the sink, Skwisgaar nearly got knocked ass-first into the toilet, and even some hair pulling became involved. But it all happened more or less silently, lest their dates overheard and got too annoyed to still be in the mood.

“Gives it to’s me!” Skwisgaar hissed.

“I was here first!” Nathan whisper-rumbled. “Ow—you bit me!”

“Goods, I was tryings to! Ahhhhggh—Okays, okays! Truce?”

“. . . Fine.”

They pulled apart, eyeing each other warily. Nathan had won the strategic position of standing nearest to the bathroom door.

“How are we going to fucking decide that I should get the last condom?” he asked irritably.

Skwisgaar tossed his head in annoyance. “Pfft, whats makes you so sures you gets it? I gots a real greats ladies ins there, can’ts lets her be the ones what gets away.”

“You’ve had a date every night this week!”

Skwisgaar shrugged, blond hair cascading over his pale, scrawny shoulders. If he was trying to loom, he failed; he might have had the advantage in height, but Nathan was too solidly built to be intimidated by a handful of inches. It was like a string bean trying to overshadow a squash. “Can’t help beings popsular, Nathans, it ams my curse.”

Nathan snorted, but grudgingly changed tracks. “I’ll play you rock paper scissors for it.”

“Fucks nos! Last time we does thats you hits me unsconskous with yous dumb rock fist and I wokes up an hours later with a heads-ache.”

“Well . . . fine, but how the fuck are we going to settle this?”

A bit of mischief sparked in Skwisgaar’s eye and a smile began to bloom across his face. “I gots an is-dea, I thinks,” he said slowly.

“. . . What idea?” Nathan asked. They’d been roommates for a few months. They got along pretty well, for the most part. Occasionally one would throw out some suggestions for the others’ musical projects that actually turned out to be really on point and helpful. It was a good arrangement.

But Nathan still wasn’t sure he trusted the guy in matters of the dick. Skwisgaar seemed like the type willing to fight dirty.

“Ams simple,” Skwisgaar replied, smile widening and sharpening at the same time. “Whoever ams better, gets it.”

Nathan, feeling as though he was being zeroed in on in some way, was about to ask better at what—and perhaps that was the exact sort of thing people were talking about when they told him he was a little slow. Before he knew what was happening Skwisgaar was seeping into his personal space, hips angled unexpectedly close, hands sneaking up to hold his head in place, tipping his chin up a little, and kissing him.

Lips, tongue, warmth. And, fuck, Skwisgaar was good at kissing. Maybe it was a European thing.

Shock took over, or Nathan would have totally shoved him away. . . . But also, he had literally just come in here from making out and heavy petting, so it wasn’t like this was a huge jump in genre, even if it felt weird to tilt up for a change. That was his excuse for slowly yielding and then kissing back while his hands went instinctively to the Swede’s ass.

Once he’d fully jumped in, the kiss deepened and quickly became a fast-paced game of back and forth, push-me-pull-you, tug of war. That was the idea, right? See who was better? Well, in order to determine that and win the prize, he had to participate. And he was really, really motivated to win that prize.

He wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed, but it might have been around the time he’d started to use his teeth and Skwisgaar had retaliated by sucking on his entire lower lip.

He wasn’t sure when his focus on what the prize actually was had started to get kind of hazy. Ignored but not forgotten, the partial hardon in his underwear was definitely beginning to show signs of interest; he felt a similar twitch through the white silk boxers pressed against his stomach. Skwisgaar made a soft, inviting sort of sound into his mouth and pressed in closer.

He wasn’t sure, at first, what to do with himself when the other man broke the kiss with a triumphant laugh, holding up the brightly colored condom wrapper just close enough for Nathan to see but not take.

“Looks to mine two eye whats I win,” Skwisgaar crowed, kiss-reddened lips flashing into a smirk. “Ha! Better lucks next night, dildo!”

With that, he stepped around Nathan and slipped out of the bathroom—but not without bestowing a farewell hand on Nathan’s ass, a slap with just a hint of a grope.

Nathan stood there for a little longer trying to gather his thoughts—the most coherent of which were along the lines of, Huh, I guess I was right about that playing dirty thing.

His roommate had just kissed him, which was completely gay . . . but he hadn’t hated it. Actually, he’d kind of the opposite of hated it. And maybe wouldn’t mind doing it again, see what else those lips could do. It would probably be worth it; he happened to know that Skwisgaar had broken up at least half of the bands he’d played guitar in with his dick. Not that Nathan was thinking about his roommate’s dick!

. . . Maybe they should be in a band together. Nathan had been thinking about putting one together for a while—not just a band but the band, the one he’d saved all of his best shit for. They seemed to be on the same wavelength, Skwisgaar was an expert guitarist. He would make a good lead. . . .

Or something like that. He’d have to think about it more later.

In the meantime, Nathan was all wound up and with limited options for getting off. He shook his head to clear it and reminded himself that he still had a girl in his room, so at least the night wasn’t going to be a complete bust. . . . Even if it probably meant having to, ugh, reciprocate oral sex.

[little-murmaider]

(Metalrat) I've got to be awful and ask about Magnus for the ship meme. XD

My NOTP for them: I feel guilty every time I answer this but it’s Hammertooth, I’m sorry.  My BROTP for them: Him and Melm are just two Guys Being Dudes who have been resurrected against their will and enjoy the occasional Bone Down. My OTP for them: Fully immersed in the MagCharles Hive. Love making myself sad and being made sad by the works of people I love and respect.  My second choice pairing for them: MagNate is my original On Fire Garbage Can ship and will always hold a special place in my heart.  My fluffy pairing for them: I can’t not write this man being bitter and miserable, physically. I have tried. It still turned out sad. Let me do something nice for you old man!!!!! I still haven’t done anything for it cause I don’t know how but I would like to figure out some domestic MagCharles someday.  My angsty pairing for them: Like literally all of them. But there’s a certain allure to the inevitable tragedy of Magnus/Skwisgaar. Something about Skwisgaar in the position of naive-ish protege and Magnus outpaced as the resentful but enthralled mentor just hits, you know? My favorite poly ship for them: Magnus/Nathan/Charles for pre-Klok,  Seth/Amber/Magnus/Melmord for post-Klok. My weirdest pairing for them: Magnua/MMA where MMA swings Magnus around by the ankles like a pool noodle. 

Send Me a Character and I’ll Tell You...

[nightklok]

what is the appeal of chickles for YOU? :3c

OH MAN HAHA I feel like I answered such a thing before but instead of going down and hunting it, i’ll answer it in my....December 2020 eyes-geez, almost a year of shipping them huh- 

I guess first of all- for comedy’s sake, the idea of shipping the drummer and manager together-honestly, i remember one of the jokes in music business class when were going over potential financial costs was when the drummer got kicked out by his girlfriend and she leaves his stuff outside in the yard. I don’t ship chickles because of that joke though but more of the idea of drummers being known as predictable/chaotic being with a manager? That’s really funny first off-

And second, I feel like they have some sort of vibe/dynamic that they must’ve met pre-klok days!!! The ‘if i was your manager then this wouldn’t have happened’ in Snakes N’ Barrels REALLY gave me ‘they definitely knew each other’ vibes. I feel like that was kinda when it helped me figure out what kinda couple they would be.

And i really love the idea of them meeting in the past so much i consider it canon (similar to magnus living-) it’s just...so engrained in my mind and I feel like it affects who they are and such that I can’t help it! They feel like a couple that has a ton of history together, ups and downs, and by the time the show has aired, they kind of know each other well enough. Though whether they have a cute secret relationship or years of yearning depends on the fic-

Also, I really love how many different concepts you can play around with them and it’d make sense so much!I  feel like I’m posting the same fic with different plots sometimes but i try to make it different though- i can’t remember off the top of my head what fics i wrote felt similar, yet different, but I think it’s probably my AO3 fics And It All Became Quiet and [Don’t] Say goodbye to All that we know, both WIPS but still handling the concept of death in different ways/perspectives. Snakes N’ Barrels era, while not published yet, is something I have various headcanons for. They met at a concert, they met when Charles became assistant manager, etc, there are so many possibilities to have them meet it’s unbelievable! Even the season 2 finale-season 3 can have various outcomes-will pickles be happy to see his old time lover is back or completely breaking down? Who knows!

Having a rather positive or energetic character with a more calm and collected, reserved is...*chef’s kiss* perfect. There is quite a lot of things you can do with such a couple because it’s like-yin and yang kinda characters. They have their differences but its the differences that make them fall in love with each other and their similarities only bond them closer. 

I feel like I’m rambling but i feel like i said enough, probably :O

[saintheartwing]

The Karma Circle: Sister Dearest

Welcome, children. Welcome…to the KARMA CIRCLE.

I take you to a simple town with simple people. McKeesport. A quiet town, filled with quiet people, kindly people. Away from the hustle and bustle of the big city of Pittsburgh, Dibbun Membrane lives with his sister and his father, having been at long last freed from his greatest concern: an annoying alien that finally blew himself and his base up, leaving a VERY helpful and playful robot behind for Dib to play with.

And Dib looks upon this new companion as a true comfort, for his father is never, ever around when he needs him, and his sister is beastly and cruel. Dib ¬simply does not have it in him to fight back against her, for she terrifies him to the very core…

Even more so than the haunted house by Emmett's Pond. He passes it by every day on his way back from school...unaware that that which is dead does not lie still. It lies in wait. Seeking what it lost.

…and it will soon strike. For the Piper is about to be paid.

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

Throughout the town's history, several fires tore through McKeesport. The greatest of all took place on May 21, 1976. Fire had spread from the town's most enormous department store downtown, fourteen buildings going up in a blaze. Striffler's Funeral Home, Kadar's Clothing Store, Oddo's Hobby Shop, the Coney Grill Restaurant…

And the Emmett Family home. It had been especially tragic…a young, sweet child had run out of her burning family home after the flames had spread, rushing away desperately to get help, for there were only two ways to get to town, one by the road, the other by a small lake that led to another road into town. She'd supposedly been trying to get help, for the first path was alit with flames, and had hoped to cross the lake…only to drown in the middle of the lake instead.

The poor little girl had failed her family, and legend had it that she still cannot rest. At sunset, you'll see the smoke drifting through the trees though it's been a CENTURY since she drowned…and if you're wise, you'll RUN! For that's when her ghost rises from the dark lake in which she'd drowned. She searches and searches for her baby brother, her father, her mother, but will never find them…and you had best take care she doesn't find you.

Dib believed in ghosts, of course. He was twelve years old and had seen more than most his age. He'd seen demons and spirits flying through the skies. He'd seen beings from beyond the stretches of Earth. And his new "little brother" of sorts, his best friend and confidant, was a robot with a head full of garbage, paper clips and-

"Ba-doompa-doompa-bubble gum! Ba-doompa-doompa-bubble gum! Ba-doompa-doompa-bubble gum! I'm gonna buy some bubble gum!" GIR the robot sang out, waving his tiny little robot hands in the air, his cyan eyes glittering as he bounced about the kitchen, Dib smiling a bit as he munched on his "Choco-Flakes" cereal.

There was an article in the paper about someone supposedly seeing the "Departed Soul of Emmett Lake". And, of course, it had the famous rhyme that you were meant to sing as you ran by it, the magic charm. "Departed Soul of Emmett Lake, Come not Night for Mercy's Sake! For when the sun hangs in the sky then we shall safely pass you by".

Gaz probably believed in ghosts too, deep down. But she didn't know nor would she have cared about the haunted lake. Gaz didn't care about much that didn't immediately gratify her, like a Poop Cola or "Piggy Hunter May Cry 5". It was, in a way, amazing that Gaz could be so different from their mother even though the two were almost equal in appearance to their respective parents. Dib had his father's scythe-like hair and pale skin, and both had their mother's amber/gold eyes…but Gazlene, unlike Peggy Membrane, had eyes sharp like a hawk, her arms thin and her expression usually bitter, and when she DID smile, it was a grin like stretched elastic.

She only ever really smiled when Professor Membrane was in the house. Then she'd call Dib by his actual name and would calmly smile over at Dib in a faux-friendly fashion. But once their dad had left, the smile would vanish, she'd punch or hit him somehow for taking a soda she felt belonged to her, or would, occasionally, lock Dib in the cellar for taking what she felt was a slice of HER pizza.

Not that Dib and GIR really minded being in the cellar too much. Because Dib had just decided to move a great deal of his stuff downstairs, including a Papier-mâché version of people's heads, toy soldiers…GIR liked to play with the red ones…and a Tallest Red and Purple series of puppets that GIR had made. GIR especially liked to act out the "what happened when the Tallest decided to check that odd speck in the distance out the window". The "odd speck" turning out to be a tiny black hole. Zim, watching it all from his end, had evidently been mortified. Maybe THAT'S why he hadn't been paying attention to the explosive experiment that finally did him in!

"What the hell is that? That's gotta be the weirdest thing I ever seen in my life!"

"Man what the hell IS that?"

"Say Red, think we oughta check that thing out?"

"I dunno, Pur, why not-AAAAA! AAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAA!" GIR cried out, waving the Red and Purple puppets about in the air as Dib held up the black hole he'd made from Papier-mâché as GIR "tossed" the puppets through it. There came a loud KLOKKA-KLOK and the doorway opened up, Gaz glaring down at them.

"Shut up. You'll make me lose my concentration on Vampire Piggy Hunter X." She snapped, slamming the door shut as Dib glared up at her as she re-locked the cellar door. Good thing he'd snuck down some circus peanuts today.

"I could cut her up into little pieces and feed her to Mr. Tiddles." GIR cheerily offered, Dib frowning a bit.

"For one, Mr. Tiddles has been dead since Gaz sacrificed him to get those gummy bears that feed on human flesh." He sighed. "And TWO, I'd just get sent to prison. Everyone knows I hate her…they'd blame me for sure." He mumbled, taking his glasses off and rubbing some gunk off of the lenses.

"Can'tcha…y'know…just tell your dad she's a meany head, Mary?" GIR asked, scratching his bucket-esque head as Dib shook his head back and forth.

"Dad wouldn't believe me. She always acts reaaaal nice around him and she doesn't leave bruises on me that leave actual marks. Besides, I don't think he WANTS to believe me. He wants to believe his children get on just fine so he can just keep working at the lab." Dib insisted, shaking his head again. "She'll be back in ten minutes. Remember, look SAD." He insisted, GIR taking his lips and turning the smile into a deliberate frown. "Good. If she thinks we're having fun down here, she'll just think of a worse punishment. Probably one that'll hurt."

"Like…goin' down to the lake?" GIR mumbled out, eyes widening slightly in fear.

"Zim told you about it?" Dib asked, raising an eyebrow up in the air…and though GIR was silent…Dib could guess what the answer was.

…

…

…

…then came September, and Professor Membrane had to be called away to a peace conference at the United Nations. Dib, of course, had tried to beg to come with him, but Professor Membrane had just good-naturedly laughed and patted his son on his head, saying Gaz would take good care of him before heading out the door. Gaz had IMMEDIATELY barricaded Dib in his room and he'd been almost without food had he not thought to keep Premium Saltines and peanut butter cups under his bed. Why? So she could eat all the pizza and keep HIM from taking it.

"I'm wise to all your tricks." She told him calmly. "And don't complain. Whiner." She'd added, slamming the door in his face when he'd asked to use the bathroom. Good thing the window could be opened enough.

"I wonder why Memby never notices the rose bushes under your window don't ever bloom." GIR asked as Dib did his business and then closed the window, Dib sighing as he plopped down on the bed and glanced over at the calendar on the wall.

"Oh. Good! Tomorrow's Wednesday!"

Indeed. The next day was Wednesday, and that meant that Gaz was chatting it up with her friend Tak, another Irken alien just like Zim had been who'd been considerably more…calmed down…over the years. With Zim dead, what psychosis she'd had had faded a bit into just occasional coldness and vaguely British snarkiness that always manifested whenever Gaz was compelled to drag Dib along with her to Tak's house down the street to play "Grand Theft Piggy 5: New Pork City" in Co-Op. Tak and Gaz both seemed to be made of the same material…that is, a big block of granite left in the middle of a Minnesota winter.

But hey, GIR and Dib could sneak Reeses Pieces from a small glass cup that Tak kept by the living room cupboard whilst Tak and Gaz played before Tak's big screen TV and they could ignore the nasty comments the two girls would sling their way whilst carjacking little old virtual ladies.

"Honestly, my brother is SUCH a whiner." Gaz muttered. "He keeps insisting I can't take the car. That "I'm too young". I could drive it just fine."

"You ALWAYS walk here?" Tak asked.

Dib paled. Oh crap. Ohhhhhh crap.

For you see, there were two ways to get to school AND to Tak's house, which was right BY the school. One was by the hill, and the other…well…the "shortcut" by the lake. The haunted lake.

"Yeah, it's a long walk up the hill to get to the stupid school-" Gaz mumbled as GIR's mouth hung slightly open, finally processing what Gaz and Tak were about to say, his eyes becoming tiny pinpricks. Oh no. Ohhhhh no!

"Why don't you just take the shortcut through the woods? Y'know, the one that has the lake nearby?" Tak asked.

"Huh?" Gaz blinked, pausing the game and putting the controller down as she scratched the purple hair atop her head, her amber/brown eyes turning to look at GIR and Dib as her tone became quiet and dangerous. "You KNEW about a shortcut?!"

"Everyone in town knows. Lemme guess. You didn't tell her about the shortcut because you're scaaaared of da spooooky ghoooosties!" Tak said, throwing her head back and laughing hysterically, antennae flopping about as GIR clung tightly to Dib, letting out a panicked squeak. "I'm sure your sister will be happy to cure you of such a silly fancy. It's just an urban legend. Supposedly this young girl's family burned to death and SHE drowned in the lake, and should you see smoke rising from the woods, you'd best RUN! It's all so silly." She said, her voice as sweet as honey from a wasp.

"You're a bad, BAD girl! You won't make us go past the lake! Not at sunset!" GIR yelled out.

"A GHOST? Really?! You didn't tell me about this shortcut because some GHOST is supposed to haunt it?!" Gaz snapped. "Gimme a break, like I should be scared of a stupid specter." She muttered, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head back and forth. "While I'm doing IMPORTANT things you're picking your nose, laughing on how you make me walk three miles every day just to get to school! And all cuz of some dumb urban legend! Lemme guess, a headless lumberjack'll pop outta the woods and cut my head off?!"

"I wish." Dib muttered.

Gaz IMMEDIATELY launched the wireless controller she had in her hand at him and it smacked into his forehead, a bloody cut trickling down it as he flopped to the ground, Dib glaring triumphantly up at her as he picked up his dropped-down glasses. "Now I've got a cut, a scar to show Dad when he comes back." He told her.

"Shut up or you'll get worse than that!" Gaz told him sharply, grabbing him and GIR by the wrists, dragging them out of the house, heading for the woods…heading for the lake…

As sun was beginning to set, crimson rays being cast overhead. She continued dragging them along the path, over dead leaves and fallen sticks, a long shadow being cast behind her smallish frame, the setting sun glowing almost as brightly as her hateful eyes, the dark pond slowly coming into sight off in the distance.

"Maybe she's a witch?" GIR whispered to Dib. "You think she's a witch?"

"Shhh!" Dib hissed back. The charm. The magic charm. "Departed Soul of Emmett Lake, Come not Night for Mercy's Sake! For when the sun hangs in the sky-"

"What're you two whispering about?" Gaz snapped out.

"Nothing!" Dib said quickly, gulping a bit as the wind began to wrap itself around him, digging its claws into him.

It was no good. The charm only worked during the DAY, when the sun was up and now the sun had fallen past the gnarled and now-barren trees, the sky looking like it was lit up with burning flames as…as pale wisps of smoke came curling and creeping under the ground, like blind fingers searching…

"The smoke. The SMOKE!" Dib whispered out, eyes widening in horror. "The smoke from the burning house! It was there!

"Are you kidding me?" Gaz groaned, rolling her eyes. "Seriously? Smoke?!" She muttered, dragging them towards the lake, GIR trying to break free in desperation before Gaz tossed him away, shoving her brother towards the lake, sticking his head down towards it, shaking him a bit. "LOOK!" She yelled out. "There's nothing there at all! It's just mist rising off the water!"

She was looking at Dib when she spoke…and did not see what was rising out of the reeds nearby, making it's way towards her as she glared back at GIR, who was gasping in horror at what drew ever-closer. Something dark and wet and tiny, a figure made of rotted-away flesh and water and reeds. Greenish/brown muck clung to the decayed flesh and slightly-cracked bones, a frog stuck in one eye, calmly breathing and staring back from the empty socket. Its eyes were silver like the scales of a fish, it's mouth turning from a slight smile to a furious, baleful glare as it saw Gaz shake Dib again, threatening to drop him in the lake as she yelled at GIR.

"WELL?! You cowards, I can't believe you're scared of some stupid girly ghost, there's nothing-"

The ghost GRABBED her, Dib breaking free and scrambling back as Gaz and the figure went into the lake an instant later, dark water frothing about as the two figures struggled, snarls and screams filling the air, Gaz and the figure sinking down in a boil of bubbles.

"G-g-g-g-g-GHOST!" GIR screamed out, Dib and GIR immediately racing off down the path, heading for home as fast as their legs could carry them, but GIR's leg had been injured when Gaz had thrown him, and there was a KRAKKA-KRKK sound as he fell to the forest floor, letting out a yelp. Dib quickly knelt down by him, trying to help GIR up as they heard the bushes and bramble being pushed aside, the two rooted to the spot in sheer terror, white nests of toadstools around them as they clung together in fear…

And then Gaz burst through the bushes, looking…oddly nice. She'd evidently run so fast her clothes had dried on her body, and her cheeks now had a bit of a blush to them, her hair now falling around her head almost like a halo as she blinked a bit at the sight of the two.

"Are you alright, guys?" She asked.

…GUYS?!

"That was an awful stumble, huh? Oh and look at you, Dib, you're shivering!"

DIB?! Calling him DIB and not "Hey, you"?

"Lemme give you a piggyback ride, GIR." She offered, helping GIR onto her back and cheerily smiling at Dib. "I think there's some pizza left over I can heat up at home, okay?" She asked Dib as she calmly walked off down the path, whistling.

WHISTLING!

"Who are you and what have you done with Gaz?" Dib muttered a bit, walking alongside her, scratching his head in surprise.

…

…

…

…true to her word, Gaz heated up the leftover pizza in the microwave and poured them all some Poop Cola, breaking out the big, fizzy straws from the cupboard, smiling as she watched them eat, staying silent before heading to her own room, Dib and GIR going back up to Dib's room, the two sitting on Dib's bed as Dib nervously chewed on his lip, glancing over at GIR.

"Did…did that just happen?" GIR asked. "She's all…y'know. Cheery."

"Yeah, it's weird." Dib murmured, scratching his head in confusion. "But…you saw it, right? At the lake?"

"Yes. And she fell in, right?" GIR wanted to know. "I don't get it, why…why's she being so nice? It's weird, Mary. Really weird. She's so different!"

"I thought she'd be dead, but…" Dib trailed off. "…I hope dad comes back soon." He finally sighed. "Hopefully things'll be back to normal soon."

And so the two went to sleep, GIR plopping down in the corner underneath a poster of the X-Files whilst Dib laid back in his bed, listening to Gaz walk about downstairs, slowly and uncertainly, as if she'd lost her way.

Within a few days though, it became clear Gaz had changed since falling into the lake, as if all the unpleasantness had been washed right out of her. The house was now bright and cheerful, Gaz now happily sharing her pizza and soda with the two and never raising her voice. She let Dib play with her Game Slave and even Tak didn't seem to mind this new Gaz as much, because this new one was far more cooperative in co-op. She doodled with Dib during the evening, chatted with him as they looked at old corny B-movies on the TV. And above all, she never ever hit them or yelled at them anymore!

Dib and GIR started calling her "Gazzy", and Dib would stargaze with her on the roof of their house at night, looking up silently at the stars, resting one hand atop hers as they contemplated the majesty beyond.

"Dad's gonna be home tomorrow." Dib said one night. "You remember, right?"

"Yes, Matthew."

"It's just "Dad", really."

"Alright. Dad."

"…how long will you be staying?" Dib wanted to know, tilting his head slightly to the side as Gaz rubbed her chin and raised an eyebrow up.

"However long would you want me here?" She wanted to ask. "If…if you wouldn't mind, could…" She began to say before Dib smiled, patting her on the shoulder.

"I want you to stay with us." Dib insisted. "Okay?"

"…I'd like that." She admitted with a smile, wrapping her arms around her brother and hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Dib." She said, a single tear trickling down her cheek and onto the roof below.

…

…

…

… it was about two years before Dib made his way back to Emmett's Lake, going in broad daylight on a sunny Saturday in June, down the winding forest path to the dark lake where tragedy had struck o'er a century ago. The lake was peaceful now, tiny little tadpoles flittering about as butterflies flew overhead. He calmly sat at the end of the lake, on a tree stump as a water boatman skittered across the lake, leaving behind a small silver wake as Dib waited.

Sure enough, a few bubbles began to rise up to disturb the surface of the quiet water, small fish darting away as a scum of mud and filthy rose up slowly from the bottom of the lake, taking the vague shape of someone all-too-familiar who was scowling angrily.

"Dib, gemme out! She took my body that stupid little bitch! Look, if you bring her down here, I'll give you fifty bucks! I'll bring you chocolate every day to your room for breakfast, I'll-I'll wash your feet and never yell at you again, I promise, I-"

"Goodbye, Gaz." Dib firmly remarked, sitting up and walking away.

And that was the last time Dib ever walked by the lake ever again.