#people already freak out about her face. spontaneously murdering people does not help

[artaelyn]

I have naming-my-bg3-characters-after-tmagp-characters-disease

Im afraid i might keep this up forever. It’s my new favorite personal bit

My darkly lit girls, Celia (Tav! :3) and Gwendolyn (Durge ^_^) (Gwen goes by Daisy (in an attempt to feel less monstrous (ehehe)))

[azucanela]

*throws some Dabi, Toga and Tomura your way*- please headcanons of those three when they find their lover crying and really sad, trying to cheer them up. THANK YOUUUUU!

comforting their s/o headcannons [gender neutral!reader]

[ft. dabi, shigaraki tomura, toga himiko]

SUMMARY: you’re crying and they’re trying to comfort you while considering dozens of creative ways to commit murder.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: threats of bodily harm, death threats, crying, 

A/N: my knife wife & co. <3 

DABI

aight so

he does this thing where he just shows up at your house during the most random times to spend time with you

he just appears and is like, “hey we’re going out.”

“where?”

“does it matter?”

when he shows up for another one of your spontaneous outings and finds you sitting on your couch, sobbing well... 

probably the calmest in the moment but internally, he is PANICKING, what is he supposed to do? normally he makes people cry, on purpose so he’s never had to actually comfort someone

much less has he ever cared enough to comfort someone, so congrats you are special, feel honored, you melted his icy heart and you don’t even have a fire quirk like he does

he’s gonna stare at you for a hot minute trying to decide what to do, and you are gonna have the most mortified look on your face as you rapidly try to wipe away tears and muffle your sobs

“what happened?” he’s gonna sound really apathetic, but he cares and he’s just trying to figure out what to do right now, and not freak you out by freaking out himself

it is not easy to stop hyperventilating once you’ve started, and as you are struggling to breathe and trying to respond, he’ll come by your side on the couch suddenly, and start rubbing a hand on your back

“come on, doll, just breathe.”

if you wanted to talk about it, he’d be all ears, and if it ends up being a person, he’s going to burn that name into his memory, and then burn the person :D

he won’t make it obvious that he intends to commit murder once he leaves your home, which he probably wont until the next morning, he’s already decided that he’s staying the night, ordering take out for the two of you, and sleeping in your bed.

you’ll see it on the news within the week that the person is dead and you’ll just look at him like 😧

and he’ll look at you like :D “what i do?”

“you know what you did.”

“they deserved it.”

“no-”

“they made you cry”

soft boi. if you don’t tell him the person’s name he isn’t going to pry, but in his free time he will try to find out who it could be, and if you are friends with other LOV members, he’ll definitely ask if they know something

if you don’t want to talk about it at all, he will be a little upset, but he ends up focusing his efforts on comforting you with random LOV stories about twice’s shenanigans

if it’s not a person, he’ll probably try to talk you through it, maybe distract you, offer you advice if applicable though he only knows how to do illegal things for the most part

overall, he’s gonna be the calmest and most helpful in the moment, but he won’t hesitate to commit murder for you and i think that’s true love

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

hajdgksahfjdshk

this mans

you’re middle of crying in your room 

off topic you and kurogiri are the only reason that tomura’s room is clean he is a slob, there i said it

anyways, you’re minding your business, crying, as one does, and he has the AUDACITY to burst into your room, swinging the door open and promptly slamming it behind him, and he begins to talk about how Dabi DARED act disrespectful to him, when everything he’d done was to help them all.

and then he sees that you are crying, puffy red eyes, tears streaming down your now shocked face as you stared up at him before looking away to wipe your tears off your face

“oh.” he’d say, “you’re crying.” 

CLEARLY, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS

the worst at comfort, he’s really bad at relating to you because he has a tendency to shut down his own emotions despite everything that has happened to him in life

he just kinda sits down in front of you, because you are on the floor, and who doesn’t cry on the floor, its a nice experience. anyways, he sits in front of you and awkwardly tries to like pat your shoulder at first and you just break down crying more because he’s trying to hard to help you and its adorable and its progress for him

he freaks out, thinking he did something wrong and tries to retract his hand, only for you to tackle him with a hug, shoving your face into his shirt. he does not like the tears streaming down your face for several reasons, one of which is the fact that they are now staining his shirt

he decides that complaining about this is not a good idea at the moment, though he does consider it

he just sighs, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you and thinking of all the weird tropes he’d seen in TV to try and figure out how to help you

he immediately turns to food, yelling for kurogiri to get over there, much to your dismay, and ordering him to go buy as much as he could from mcdonalds as humanly possible

kurogiri thinks its a sweet gesture, and makes it a point to himself to have a conversation with tomura later about about better ways to comfort others

if you tell him whats wrong and it ends up being something he can kill? have fun trying to stop him

spoiler alert, you cant

the problem will die if he has a choice in the matter, and if you don’t tell him the name of the problem, he’ll be frustrated and try to pry it out of you, but he’ll accept it

and then give kurogiri another job, known as operation finding out why Y/N is crying 

if you aren’t crying over something he can kill, tomura is probably going to try and console you to the best of his ability, which isn’t that great, but its sweet that he tries

if you refuse to tell him why you are crying he will get frustrated and ask how he’s supposed to help if you don’t talk to him, but he’ll drop it when he notices you beginning to cry again

lots of awkward affection

just kinda sits with you in a comfortable silence until you open up about it or start a random convo

its nice

TOGA HIMIKO

WELP

very hyperactive bb, she’s probably going to come into your room and just start looking around, touching things, talking about something that just happened with twice

you are shocked, on your bed, crying, trying not to freak out as you look at her, panicked at the possibility of getting caught in the midst of crying your eyes out, you try to erase all the evidence that it ever happened while she is distracted

it takes her a hot minute to realize you are not responding, mostly because you are scared your voice will crack, there’s the sound of sniffling, and when she finally turns to look at you, she sees your puffy eyes and tear streaked face

honestly the best at comforting someone, like the way she is with twice when he tears his mask just proves this tbh, she can maintain her sweet and bubbly personality and it makes you feel better about crying because it doesn’t feel like she is pitying you

very affectionate, “baby whats wrong?” she’s going to get down on her knees in front of you and wrap her arms around you, unless you make it clear that you do not wanna be touched, otherwise, her hands are everywhere

if the problem is a person, she’s going to verbally threaten their life in front of you, and if you don’t express disapproval of murder, she will likely commit murder

“can i kill them? i promise it won’t hurt for long- unless you want it to?”

“no?”

“are you sure? because i think they deserve it.”

while you are napping, she slips off the bed to go out and end your problem and you awaken to her trying to quietly re-enter the room covered in blood 

if you insist that murder is not the answer, she’ll still end up finding and threatening them should they ever hurt you again

people thought her quirk was weird and they bullied her, so i feel like if a person had anything to do with it, she would take it personal as well, because an attack on her s/o is an attack on her as well

if the problem is something else, she’ll provide solutions, and likely try to solve the problem for you if possible, she just really wants you to stop hurting because it makes her sad if she cannot do anything about it

she just wants you happy :,)

if you don’t tell her the name of the person she WILL ask the LOV for help in finding out who it is and ending them

if you just don’t want to talk about the problem at all, she’ll respect that and focus on distracting you, similar to dabi, telling you odd experiences she had with the league that day

doesn’t care if you cry into her clothes, will hold you and play with your hair, will bring you cookies or something like that, courtesy of kurogiri, our fave

very verbal and physical, but if you decide you wanna talk about it she will go silent and listen rather intently while playing with your hands, the only addition she makes tend to be cursing out the problem for ever bothering you

she’s so romantic when she’s cursing out your problems and threatening the life of those who hurt you, why wouldn’t you want that smh

[babybluebex]

revelations

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader (y/n)

summary: rewrite of “revelations”. y/n and spencer have to navigate what happens when their lives are threatened and ultimately taken away.

word count: 2800+

warnings: season 2 reid, drugging, mentions of r*pe

a/n: this one is a little heavy, so sorry about it. the next part will be happier, i swear. pls don’t hate me :(

“We have an unsub,” Gideon began. When we first met nearly three long years ago, I never anticipated that Jason Gideon would give me away to Spencer at our wedding. We had decided to get married spontaneously after work one day, employing Gideon to be our legal witness as we  went to a small courthouse in nearby Montclair to elope. He told me how odd it was now to call me Mrs. Reid, but he said that the title suited me well. “That’s targeting young men.”

“Who doesn’t?” JJ scoffed.  

“Yes, but he’s a bit different,” Gideon said. “He targets young fathers. All of the victims were between the ages of 25 and 30 and had children that were born within three months of their murder. When interviewed, every mother revealed that their babies had been conceived out of wedlock.” 

“What’s that mean?” Spencer asked with a gaze full of curiosity. 

JJ laughed. “Spence, you of all people should know what that is,” she said. 

“Why, because I’m a genius?” Spencer asked with a smirk. “Contrary to what you think, JJ, I don’t know everything.” 

“No,” I replied with a sweet smile. “You should know what that is because Baby was conceived out of wedlock.” I gently patted my swelling tummy, and Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment. 

“Oh,”  he said. “Noted.” 

“It seems like our unsub has a religious motive,” Gideon said. “Maybe targeting those who live in sin. Hotch, see if you can find anything in the crime scenes that might connect to Christianity in any way.” 

“Why specifically Christianity?” I asked. 

“Most people that are committed of murder and incarcerated in America are Christian,” Spencer began. “There are more documented cases of a crime scene being labeled with words like ‘Satan’ or people saying that God told them to, and other Christian imagery; you hardly see Islamic or Jewish intentions behind killings like this.” 

“So, it’s usually Christians?” I clarified. “But factor in a margin of error--” 

“The margin is small enough to make looking for exclusively Christian material viable,” Spencer replied. He gave me his tight lipped Muppet smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Fine, you out-logiced me,” I sighed. “What’s that, the third time this week?”

“Fourth,” Morgan said with a chuckle. “Five, if you count the coffee jab on Monday.” 

“The doctor said it was fine!” I exclaimed. “Just a little every so often!”

“But statistically--” Spencer began. 

“I love you to pieces,” I sighed. “But if you give me another statistic right now, I will kill you, Dr. Reid.” 

“Fine,” Spencer said. “If you say so, Mrs. Reid.” 

“Garcia’s working on finding a common link other than the obvious,” Gideon said. “Reid, I want you to talk to the mothers again; maybe you might be able to get something out of them that the others haven’t. And Reid… Doctor, start on a geographic profile. Focus on churches of stricter denominations in the area.” With that, we all got up to depart off to our work. 

“How’re you today?” Spencer asked, taking my hand to help me out of my chair. At six months, I had a significant bump that made maneuvering around difficult, and it was no wonder that Gideon assigned me to interview the mothers. I was as certain as he was that I could get some hidden information out of them that Hotch or the non-pregnant Elle just couldn’t. People usually reacted differently to a pregnant woman in normal circumstances as well, so it was a safe bet. 

“Just the normal,” I replied.

“Back ache, headaches,” Spencer began listing off all of my normal symptoms. “Hungry?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I have crackers on my desk.”

“Good ole’ JJ,” Spencer chuckled. “Are you… Are you alright to work on this case?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ve had to work worse cases.”

“But not when you’re…” Spencer began and struggled for words. “As emotional as you are now.”

“Maybe I can use that to my advantage,” I said. “Not everything has to be a setback, Spence.”

“If you’re really not alright with it, I can talk to Gideon,” Spencer said. 

I gently patted his cheek. “I’m a big girl, my love,” I told him. “I can do it. But I am fine, I promise.”

“Hey there,” I said, entering the cool interrogation room. The young woman’s eyes locked onto my stomach immediately, and her shoulders fell from their defensive position. “My name’s Special Agent Y/N Reid, I just want to ask you a few questions. Is that alright, Mrs. Barder?”

“Miss,” the woman said softly. “Yes, that’s alright.”

“Oh, sorry about that,” I said. “Umm, call me Reid. It’s easier. So, what can you tell me about Travis?”

She sighed. The file said her name was Elizabeth, but I was waiting for her to tell me that. People tended to be more personable when they were under the impression that you knew only what they told you. “He was nice,” she said and shrugged. “A good boyfriend, a good father.” 

I nodded gently. “Explain that to me,” I said. “What constitutes a good father to you?”

Elizabeth shrugged again. I could tell by her body language, the raised shoulders and folded arms, that she was holding back and not allowing herself to become too comfortable with the environment. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I knew that I needed to get whatever information she was withholding out of her. “He helped me as much as he could,” she said finally. “When I was pregnant, he never complained when I flew off the handle, ya know? And he got up in the middle of the night to change Pammy’s diaper, he always let me sleep.”

I smiled. “Pammy’s a nice name,” I said. “And that’s your daughter?”

Elizabeth nodded. “We named her after my mom,” she said softly. Volunteering information that I hadn’t asked for was good. Her walls were coming down, brick by brick. 

“That’s really sweet,” I said. “We don’t know the little one’s gender yet, but, if it’s a boy, we’re naming him Gideon after a close friend.” 

“And if it’s a girl?” Elizabeth asked eagerly. 

“Erin,” I replied. “Another close friend of ours.” 

“That’s really nice,” Elizabeth said. “But, umm, yeah, Trav was good. He volunteered at our church a lot, and it was nice to have all of them behind us.” 

Nowhere in earlier interviews did she mention a church. I nodded and made a small note of it, and I asked, “Was it a big church?”

“Not really,” Elizabeth said. “Big for the backwoods, but not huge. Maybe 100 people altogether.”

“That sounds nice,” I said. “What’s the name of the church for me, please?”

“Mount Zion,” Elizabeth told me. “It’s nondenominational, but Christian.”

“Alright,” I nodded. “And no offense is meant by this question, but I’m required to ask: did your boyfriend ever do anything strange? Like, suspicious with money or hanging out with weird people?” A moment passed, and I added, “If someone asked me that about my husband, I’d freak, so I understand if this question makes you uncomfortable.”

Elizabeth looked at her hands as she thought, and mumbled, “He went out to get drinks a few weeks before he…” she cleared her throat and said, “Ya know, before he… Died. It was a group of them from church just hanging out, but Trav mentioned that a new guy tagged along that was really strange.”

I sat up straighter. “Alright,” I said slowly. “Strange how? Did Travis describe it?”

“He just said that he was really off-putting,” Elizabeth told me. 

“His name?” I asked. “If you don’t know, that’s totally okay.”

“Something with a T,” Elizabeth said. “And the last name was weird too.” I couldn’t blame her for not remembering; if my pregnancy brain was any indication of the years to come, I would be forgetting a lot too. “Toby… Maybe? Toby?”

I wrote down Toby ?. “Okay,” I said. “Did Toby go to the church?”

“He visited,” Elizabeth said. “He was a strange-looking guy. Looked like the guy from Dawson’s Creek, ya know? I would have remembered seeing him before.” A moment passed, and she said “Hankel.”

Toby Hankel. “How certain are you that that’s the name?” I asked. 

“I’m certain it’s Hankel,” Elizabeth said. “But shaky about the Toby part. I know it’s a T name, but it’s not coming to me.”

I nodded. “Right,” I said. “Well, Miss Barder, this has been extremely helpful. I’m gonna give you my phone number in case you can come up with that name or anything else that might help us with the investigation, and you can call day or night. As I’m sure you can gather, I’m always awake.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Thanks,” she said. “Agent Reid, right?”

“Right,” I told her. I gave her one of my business cards and at the last moment noticed that it was one of Spencer’s. It shouldn’t have surprised me; I wore his jacket instead of my own. “Oh, whoops, that’s my husband’s card. I don’t have any of mine on me, but call that cell number and ask for me, and you’ll get me.”

Elizabeth looked at the card. “Dr. Spencer Reid,” she read. “You’re married to a doctor?” 

“Not the useful kind,” I joked. “Mathematics degree, among others. He’s a nerd and a half.” 

“He sounds good,” Elizabeth told me softly. 

I carefully reached out and put a gentle hand on top of hers, and I said, “I know how hard this sucks, but I promise that Travis would be proud of you. You’re being so brave right now.”

Elizabeth sniffled. “Thanks,” she said. “That means a lot.”

Just as I was nodding, the door flew open, and a startled Hotch stood at the door. “Reid, we need you,” he said. “Now.” 

“Yeah, I’m almost finished,” I replied. “I’ll be right there.” 

“No, Y/N,” Hotch said firmly. He always used my last name, never my first. “We need you. Right now.”

“Hold on,” I said back. 

“It’s about Spencer,” Hotch said, and I froze. “We need you now.”

I nodded slowly. “Agent Hotchner, could you show Miss Barder out?” I asked softly. “And, uh, where does the Doc need me?” 

“Garcia’s office,” Hotch said. “Gideon’s already there.” 

I took a deep breath. “Well, uh, sorry to dip out,” I told Elizabeth. “But it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again.”

My footsteps fell heavy in the hallway as I made my way to Garcia’s office. As I walked, my mind raced, trying to think why Hotch had been so cross with me. Was Spencer in trouble? Hurt? I knew that I was overreacting, but the thought of it made me walk just a bit faster. 

I pushed the door to Garcia’s dark office open, and I moved up next to Gideon. He was watching the computer screens intently, Elle at his side, and Garcia in her chair. Every single screen displayed a single image of my husband bound and gagged to a wooden chair, a small red light blinking every so often on his darkened form. “Gideon,” I whispered in horror. “What is this?” 

“Livestream,” Garcia answered in a hushed tone. “We can’t figure out where it’s coming from, the stream reroutes IP addresses every 30 seconds.”

“And we’re sure it’s live?” I asked. “I didn’t even know Spence had gone out into the field.”

“Neither did any of us,” Gideon told me. Carefully, his arm wrapped around my waist comfortingly, and I let out a single sob. I couldn’t see the video too well, but I saw Spencer sitting there, his head bent down, his hair in his face. His arms were tied roughly to the arms of the chair, missing his shoes, a tear in his shirt. 

“Is he alive?” I whimpered out. 

“Yes,” Gideon told me, and pointed at Spencer’s chest. It was moving, although shallowly, but it gave me hope. 

“Where is he?” I asked. “Who did this to him?”

“Okay, Gideon, she needs to get out of here,” Elle began, but I shook my head. 

“No,” I said, my tears streaming down my face. “I need to stay.” I saw her watch my hand as it covered my belly, and she nodded quietly. 

My eyes were glued to the screen as we all watched Spencer sit there. I couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not, and I couldn’t figure out which was worse. Finally, after standing there for what felt like days, the camera began to shake as someone picked it up. They moved it closer to Spencer and, with the angle change, came a new view. Spencer’s eyes were open, his mouth gulping in air as quickly as he could. His lip was bleeding, the blood pooling in his lap, and he let out a guttural gurgle as the person behind the camera grabbed a fistful of his curls and forced his head back. I watched him sputter out a mouthful of saliva and begin to choke on it, but he recovered quickly. “You think she’s watching?” a voice behind the camera asked. “You think they’re all watching?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife,” Spencer said with gritted teeth. A cold flash raced through my body and I tensed up in Gideon’s embrace. Whoever this man was holding Spencer hostage, he knew about me. 

“Oh, she’s your wife?” the man asked. “Where was that title when you got her pregnant?”

“Leave her out of this,” Spencer said, his bottom lip shining with spit and blood. “Whatever issue you have, it’s with me.”

“Haven’t you heard that saying, Doctor?” the man asked. “It takes two to tango?”

Spencer’s eyes finally fell on the camera, and his Adam’s apple throbbed as he struggled to swallow. “Where’s that video going?” he asked.

“To her,” the man said. “So that she can watch.”

Spencer began to breath frantically, his chest heaving, and he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Anything you have to say to her,” the man said. “You can say to God. No need to be quiet, Doctor.” 

“This has nothing to do with her,” Spencer said quickly. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault.” I saw tears on his cheeks, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s my fucking fault.” 

“Admit your sins to God, boy,” the man told him. 

Spencer’s eyes opened. This time, he looked above him, and he began to weep. I had never seen Spencer cry like that, and it made me sick to my stomach. “I did this to her,” he mumbled. “I came home and I was drunk, and she didn’t-- She didn’t ask for this.” 

I shook my head violently as I bit my finger. He was lying. Why would he lie? 

“Y/N?” Elle whispered. “Is that true?”

“No,” I said quickly. “He never has and he never would.”

“So why’d he say it?” Elle asked. “To let his torturer hear what he wants to?”

I watched the screen for a few seconds more before whispering, “To send us a message.”

“You know what I think, Doctor?” the man asked, and the camera steadied as he put it down. “I think you’re a lying degenerate.” There was the sound of clinking glass, and Spencer took a deep breath. 

“Why would I lie about raping my wife?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“To save her,” the man said. “If you sinned, that’s one thing. If she did, I would have to find her too. And your child--”

“Don’t fucking talk about my child!” Spencer yelled. I had never heard him so frantic and angry. 

“Far too hostile,” the man said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Maybe this’ll calm you down.” Behind the camera, the sound of leather against cloth sounded, and Spencer began to thrash in his seat. 

“Please don’t,” he whimpered, all of his anger gone. “Please, I--” Before he could get any more words out, the man moved in front of the camera and began to secure a belt around the top of Spencer’s arm. I saw a light gleam off of a thin hypodermic needle, and I watched as the man sank the needle into Spencer’s arm and administered a drug to him. 

I rushed out of the office and collapsed on the floor. I felt sick and dizzy, and I didn’t even want to try to go back to the real world. My Spencer was being beaten and tortured, and we were no closer to finding him than before. It was enough to make me scream, and I did. Gideon was next to me in a second, putting his jacket around my shoulders and trying to help me up, but my legs were too weak to carry me. Gideon swiftly pulled me up into his embrace and carried me to his office, where it was quiet and cold. I curled up on his couch and cried, sobbing and choking and praying to a God that I didn’t believe in that Spencer would be okay. And if okay meant that he died to stop his suffering, then so be it.

[shadowofthelamp]

I Think We Might Be Related

Summary: Johnny gets a call from a kid who claims he might be his nephew. He decides to see for himself.

(Rated teen just for a few brief gore mentions and language, pretty in line with the comics)

Based off my theory that Membrane is either Johnny C’s brother or that Johnny’s plasma donation was used to help stabilize and differentiate the Dib clone.

Wordcount: 2600

Read on ao3

Reblogs/replies/tags/likes are all super appreciated, I love hearing what people think!

The phone rang. In most houses, that’s not a very unusual occurrence. Number 777 was not most houses.

The owner of 777, (or rather, the occupant- if there was a landlord, they’d either been dismembered or made otherwise defunct a long time ago) was currently laid out on the couch, watching an old-timey show about cowboys when the loud ring rattled his eardrums. He sat up, long limbs running into each other like spaghetti in a pot before his hand curled around the phone and he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, are you…” There was a shuffling of papers. “Johnny C?” The voice sounded young.

“Is this the library- did you get my submission? Your voice is high-pitched, are you an intern? Selling your hours and youth for no pay is only killing your soul on the inside, you know. Although the library does provide the public with comic books, so I guess-”

“No, I’m not with the library. I live a little further in the city, and… I think we might be related? You might be my uncle, or something like that.” The kid’s voice quirked up the same way Johnny’s heart started doing a kickline with his lungs.

“You think?” Uncle. Uncle implied a sister or a brother. A family. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thought of family, other than turning around the soaked marshmellow of his brain that revealed jackshit about who he was.

“Yeah, it’s a… really long story, but the short version is that I was rummaging around with my DNA, and your name was one of the few on file. The others were all dead ends.”

“In your DNA?” Okay, this kid was definitely fucking with him. Served him right for even thinking about hoping for a clue. “Right, and I’m the muffin man, running off and leaving his kids in a place called dreary lane. Seriously, who does that?”

“I promise this isn’t a prank, don’t hang up! Are you still living in 684 South?”

“No.” Was that his old address? It sparked recognition that then died smoking like a match in a tray of water. It was probably a good sign, though, unless this kid was a stalker.  “777 Offmain.”

“Okay. Can I… meet you at some point? I just want to get to know you. As a person. Like me. Okay, wow, this is coming out weird. I promise I’m not an axe-murderer.”

At that, Johnny cracked up. He ruffled a hand through his hair- he liked how the longer spikes flopped over his eyes. Sometimes. Sometimes he wanted to hack it all off, not feel the grease and salt the congealed when he didn’t move long enough that his body made itself disgusting again, but then he just stuck a beanie on it and forgot all about it until the urge passed. He’d cut part of it off once and it had just sat in the kitchen for a… week? Time was funny.

“Well, we can’t both be, can we?”

“I’ll... man, my self-preservation instincts have really started going down the toilet since I started following an alien with an arsenal strapped to his back, but can I stop by tomorrow at around three?”

“Happy Friends is on at three. Make it four.”

“Alright! Sounds good. Gosh, this is exciting, I’ve never met any real family besides Dad- okay, that was oversharing. Oversharing’s bad, especially to strangers.”

“If we’re family, we’re not strangers.” Johnny’s grip on the phone tightened, and he could see the tendons and veins on the back. Hmm. Maybe he could pick up sculpting, see if he was ever any good at that. The human body was properly horrifying in mere existence.

“See you then- should I call you Johnny or what?”

“Johnny is fine for now, but if we really are related, I’ll go with Nny. So, how are we related anyways?”

“I’m not sure. I’m hoping it’ll click when we meet.”

“So, what’s your name, anyways?”

“Dib.” And with that, the line went dead and Johnny went to see if he could make anything good enough to hang up on the wall out of fingerpaints.

If his leg bounced and his chest felt vise-like, he blamed the coffee patches and the 30 hours of no sleep.

______________

Dib knocked on the door at 4:10. Johnny pulled it open, staring down at him.

“Geez, you got a water balloon pumped up inside your head or something?” He had really big glasses, the kind that said when he didn’t have them on he probably couldn’t see half a foot in front of his face without tripping over something. His skin was the same shade as Johnny’s, he was pretty sure, but he had some faint freckles. Duh, he was a kid, he probably had to go outside to go to school and stuff.

“Well, that could have been a better start.” The kid had a briefcase- what kind of kid had a briefcase? No kid that should have existed, kids should be dragging around teddy bears like Squee or grimy dolls filled with teething marks. Oh wait, he was holding out his non-briefcase hand. “I’m Dib. I’d say it’s nice to meet you but now I’m not so sure about that.” He craned his head. “Oh, wow. Your house is a mess but I’ve been in our living room when Gaz is on one of her marathons and this is only moderate compared to that. Did you try and paint your own walls?”

“Gaz? That’s a fun name. Who's she?”

“My- you know what? I’m not volunteering any more information until I get a little more on you besides your name and height. Looks like weight changed. Wow, you’re a stick.” Dib rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a wrapper with a big grinning mascot on it and handing it to Johnny. It was a chocolate protein bar. “You can have that one, I’ve got dozens.”

Johnny tore open the wrapper, stuffing half of it in his mouth. Damn, it was good, actually. Who would want a protein bar that tasted like sawdust when you could make it sweet? “So, is there any magical connection? I like the coat, though.”

Dib beamed. “Really? Everyone says it’s too much, but I say that there’s nothing like twirling around in a good coat and feeling the wind snap on the fabric when you run.”

“Oh, that is a good feeling. One of the best. Shame I can never keep mine, they always end up tossed to the void whenever something happens or I get particularly dramatic. It always feels excellent in the moment, but then you’re left with cold shoulders and regret for the strawberry grandma candy you left behind in the back pocket.”

“You know, I think I see the resemblance.” Dib said. “I’ve got your cheekbones, and nose. Maybe you’re my uncle? Do you know Professor Membrane?”

“That guy on tv? He’s kind of fun.” Johnny watched it when it was on sometimes.

“That’s my dad. I take it he’s not your brother if that was your reaction, though.”

“Dab-”

“Dib.”

“Dib. My head’s been shot to shit, both literally and figuratively. There’s scars on the back I don’t remember getting there. I had some serious garbage claw me up, and I wouldn’t be able to tell a brother from the easter bunny unless it slapped some chocolate eggs up my ass.” He ripped another portion of the bar off with his teeth.

Dib sagged a little. “Oh… Dad’s always been really tight-lipped about any other family. I hoped-”

Johnny swallowed the chunk of chocolate protein bar. “Look, I haven’t got the answers for any existential crisis you may be having. I’ve been through quite a few of my own, if we’re being honest. But I have some chips that are going stale and a TV that has colors that make your eyes bleed that tickles pretty feelings up your skull. I also haven’t left the house in five days. If you have anything interesting to say, we can talk about it over some cartoons.”

Dib perked up again at that. “You… want to listen to me?”

“Depends on what you’ve got to say.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a mouth on you, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I’ve got loads! I love the paranormal, and some parts of math but not all of them, and also no one ever listens to me about the alien that goes to my school-”

“Alien? I’m curious, tell me more.”

Dib made a squeaking noise so strange Johnny wasn’t sure he hadn’t just had his organs spontaneously combust.  “Hey? Kid? Kid, I don’t wanna clean up another corpse already, I’m running out of trash bags.”

“You really- wait, another one?”

Johnny grabbed the knife in his belt- he’d nicked himself with it a dozen times but it was nice and convenient and he liked that. “Just a joke. I mean, kids like jokes, right? How old are you, nine?”

“I’m twelve!” Dib tugged at the bottom of his shirt. “Anyways, so there’s this alien named Zim, he is the biggest pain in my butt, and I don’t know if you remember when gravity stopped working for a bit a couple of weeks ago and everything started freaking out and going screwy, but that was him-”

“Oh, huh. I was wondering why I made footprints on the ceiling. I figured the squirrels did it.” Johnny said. “Do I have to worry about him destroying the world? Because I’m pretty sure earth is the only planet with slushie machines and it would be just criminal if the universe lost those. Shame you have to deal with people to use them, but everything has a price.”

“Apparently, aliens have slushie machines too, I’ve asked.” Dib said. “Well, I stole a couple of Zim’s files, and he orders alien versions of them with his shipments of food. But that’s not what matters, he’s trying to take over the- wait, you actually believe me?”

Geez, kid, slushies always mattered. “Sure. I got abducted on a Tuesday once. Stuck a couple of needles in me, but tossed me back down hard enough to fuck up my spine when I managed to eviscerate one. Wish I’d brought a camera, those guts looked delightful- and it was so clean! No blood, they had robot insides!”

Dib took half a step back. “Uh-”

“And it was blue, can you believe that? Like one of those crabs! The horsey ones- hey, maybe those were aliens too.”

Dib blinked, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe. A friend of mine has a theory like that anyways. So… what do you do?”

Johnny stared at him. “Whatever I want. I go to the movies, I eat stuff, I kill people.”

Dib’s mouth twitched before he started laughing. “Pffft, you’ve got such a straight face!”

“Just so you know, if you hear any screaming, don’t worry, they’re all restrained.”

“Right, right.” Dib settled down on the couch. “Oh, nice, this is surprisingly comfortable.”

Johnny settled down next to him. He knew how to talk to Squee- poor kid barely said a word most of the time. He really needed to help him be more confident. Maybe he could get him a hampster. Pets made people more responsible, right?

Then again, Nailbunny hanging on the wall said otherwise. Although that could just be him.

But this Dib kid, he didn’t really seem at all phased. Which was weird- weren’t you supposed to be nervous around strangers? Especially ones that had houses like his, with blood splattered on the walls and a noose tucked in the corner. Maybe that big head’s meaty brain was stuffed with stuff from the aliens instead of common sense, or just figured that the new weird skinny guy was just joking. Squee had first seen him with blood splattered all over. He hugged his legs to his chest, watching the kid pull out a laptop that looked real fancy. Maybe he was rich. Oh, right, if his dad was on tv he probably was.

“Anyway this is Zim- and this is a couple sketches I’ve made of him without his disguise. I’ve seen it, but the pictures keep getting destroyed because the universe really hates me.”

“We’re in the same boat, then.” Johnny said. “If there is anything looking over the Earth, it always picks a couple people to just dump dookie on, just for shits and giggles. It’s a pain in the ass, let me tell you.”

“Yeah, it is.” Dib mumbled. “This is his little robot in a dog costume.”

“That’s kind of cute, actually.”

“Yeah, not so much when he’s also got lasers attached to him.” Dib said. “He’s not as bad a Zim, though, mostly he’s just kind of dumb.”

Dib started rambling on about routines and habits and skin texture, and Johnny kind of checked out, preferring to run his eyes over Dib’s face. He was little, for a twelve year old- but then again, it wasn’t like Johnny spent a lot of time around twelve year olds. Or anyone. Dib's glasses slid down and he adjusted them twice in a few minutes without a pause. Listening to him was almost like putting on the radio in the background to distract from the car crashes outside and the nothingless and everythingness of being a human being. His voice was kind of whiny, but the crescendos in it with the tides of how emotional he got were almost like music.

“And then he started raving about how cloning is far superior to filthy human breeding, and that’s when I started getting curious about checking out the rest of my family.” Dib was breathing hard. He had a look on his face like he wasn’t used to being allowed to talk for that long. Frankly, Johnny agreed with the alien kid that the way people reproduced was utterly repulsive, but they’d come back around to why he’d let Dib in in the first place.

“Well, verdict?”

“Huh?”

Johnny held out his arms, one leg slipping off the couch while the other loosened so his heel rested on the edge of the couch cushion and his toe pointed up at the ceiling. “On me.”

“Well. You’re kind of weird, but I guess my whole family is like that.” Dib said. “And you actually do listen to me, which is a really nice change of pace.”

“It can get boring around here, and you’re not nearly as irritating as some other people can be. At least you ramble on about fun stuff.” Johnny shrugged just as there was a shriek from the stairs. Dib’s head whipped around.

“What was that?”

“A ghost, probably. Or I need to add more electricity to the guy from the church picnic...”

Dib set a hand on his forehead. “Yeah… yeah, probably.” He patted at his pocket, then seemed satisfied by whatever was inside. “Want me to exorcise it for you?”

“Nah, I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Alright, suit yourself but the offer is open.” Dib said. “You said you had TV?”

Johnny grabbed the remote. “What kind of idiot wouldn’t?”

Dib left about an hour later after laughing at the hokey acting on some soap opera, and Johnny realized he was in good enough of a mood that he whistled over the begging when he he slid his favorite knife through a man’s chest cavity and carved him open, collecting the viscera in a bucket.

He’d give the wall monster some organ meat to go with the coating, he decided. Give it a treat. And maybe he’d invite Dib over again sometime.

[pjo-hoo-nextgen]

Thia’s Arrival

An Anon sent me this prompt from the list I posted!

Prompt: Please, just hold my hand.

— — —

There was no way to prepare for parenthood when you didn’t have months to plan for it. Percy and Annabeth? No worries, they had time to prep. Nico and Will? Time to prep. Thalia and Reyna? About five seconds to figure out what the hell was happening.

“I am literally going to drop kick my father in the balls,” Thalia’s hands sparked with barely controlled anger. “What was he thinking? Oh yeah, he doesn’t think!”

“I still don’t understand...” Reyna frowned examining the note over and over again. She’d flipped it over, turned it upside down, and even folded it before opening it again. There was no additional information.

“Read it to me again,” Thalia pressed her lips into a thin line as she paced back and forth.

“Thalia, it’s come to my attention that you’ve recently been looking to add a member to the family. I took it upon myself to sort out all of the necessary details for you. Prometheus has crafted a child in your likeness as well as Reyna’s. I hope this helps make up for the tough childhood you had. If you wish, I would happily recommend naming the little girl-“ Reyna didn’t bother finishing the note before she crumpled it up and chucked it across the counter.

“All of the necessities? What does he think you need to take care of a baby? Just two people and that’s it? That food spontaneously exists along with diapers and a bed and pajamas and more?!” Reyna was certain Thalia would spontaneously combust at any moment. It wasn’t that Thalia was upset at the child, it wasn’t the kid’s fault, but she was contemplating the many ways she’d beat the crap out of her father.

“Honestly, I don’t even know what to do.” Reyna groaned resting her forehead against the countertop. “I’m so far from the motherly type it’s ridiculous. When Maria was born she cried the first time she saw me!”

“That was a little funny-“ Thalia snorted before seeing the death glare on her wife’s face, “but I have a plan. It’s just temporary.”

“Thalia, love of my life, the best friend I’ve ever had, I hate to tell you that most of your plans are complete shit.” Reyna arched a brow as if she expected Thalia to deny the claim.

“You may be right, but I have some experience. It’s not the best, but I did handle Jason.” Reyna could practically see the gears turning in Thalia’s head. “I can run over to CHB in no time and see if there’s anything I can borrow from Percy. Last I heard Maria had outgrown pretty much everything and they probably have some of her old clothes.”

“Thalia I don’t want to be here alone! What if it cries?” Reyna frowned, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

“Then you hold her and rock her. If that doesn’t work maybe swipe some formula that’s left over from Eli. Make sure it’s not hot, test it on the back of your hand.” Thalia was beginning to remember the basics of how she’d take care of Jason all those years ago.

“And your knowledge is exactly why you should stay and I should go.” Reyna stood ready to pounce on the door and beat Thalia outside but the other girl was ready.

“Not a chance. I’m the fastest.” Thalia called over her shoulder already stepping outside. There was a slight crackle of lightning, a tit bit of thunder, and a gust of wind. Reyna groaned running a hand through her hair. Thalia has learned little less than a few months ago that she could run as fast as the wind itself.

“Why did I have to tell her to experiment with her powers?” A slight whine was the only response to Reyna’s words and her attention was drawn to the small baby still settled snugly in its blanket and box. “Oh Gods I’m so going to die.”

— — —

Explaining the situation was difficult but Thalia managed to rattle it off as quickly as possible. Percy had learned long ago to really stop asking questions when weird stuff happened.

Still, he was kind enough to scrounge up some bonus items from Leo and Calypso as well. Thalia had been smart enough to ‘borrow’ a backpack from a nearby store on her run over and it was now bursting at the zippers. “Thanks. Uh, gotta blast. Talk more later!”

And with that she was already jetting off back towards home. The trip took no more than a handful of hours which was quicker than if Reyna had taken a car or Pegasus. Bouncing up the front steps Thalia anxiously entered the house once more.

It seemed Reyna and the baby were having a staring contest. It was almost funny if it didn’t look like they were both going to throw tantrums. “Thank Gods you’re back.”

“What happened?” Thalia sighed taking the bag from her shoulders and digging through it.

“Nothing.” Reyna noted, “just...it’s weird.”

“Yeah, I’m with you on that.” Reyna watched as Thalia went on auto pilot. The daughter of Zeus seemed to know exactly what to do which was very different from Reyna’s ability at the moment.

The little baby seemed much more at ease the moment a bottle was in her mouth. Reyna watched curiously as Thalia kept one hand supporting the end while she also used the other to prop the baby upright. “So...how often do they do this?”

“A lot.” Thalia laughed. “It’s how they grow.”

“I see. Then what do we do after this?”

“You’ll see.” Thalia promised, “right now I’m just trying to make sure a baby doesn’t die in my house. We can decide the details later.”

— — —

Reyna made sure to stay out of the way through most of he evening. The only thing she really contributed to was putting back together the small crib Frank had dropped off which was Eli’s first one.

With the directions laid out Reyna did her best to follow the pictures. She hated small writing though, because it wasn’t just small-it was excessively small.

“Alright, you look old enough for this,” Thalia hummed. Reyna glanced up to see a soft towels sprawled on the counter with a very naked baby carefully settled on top. “Now, don’t you fuss. It’s actually pretty fun I promise.”

“She can’t understand you, you know that right?” Reyna laughed.

“Yes, but it makes things less awkward.” Thalia have Reyna an amused look.

“What’re you going to do?”

“Get her cleaned up. She was outside for a while which is bad. Immune systems in babies are horrible. That’s why everything has to be so sterile when they’re really young.” Reyna could tell Thalia was mentally cursing her father.

“Isn’t she too small for a bath tub?” Reyna questioned.

“Yes, which is why we’re going to use this.” Thalia picked up a small and soft little wash cloth and held it up for both Reyna and the little girl to see.

Reyna rolled her eyes on amusement and temporarily abandoned her work to curiously watch what was going to happen. “She seems excited.”

Thalia carefully took the end of the wash rag back from the little chubby hand that had grasped it. “I would be too, in all honesty.”

Reyna couldn’t help but be alarmed once more by how much the baby looked like her and Thalia. The same skin tone she had and the same colored hair. What small rift of hair the baby had literally wouldn’t lay flat and it was as wild as Thalia’s. Then there was the little smile that matched Thalia’s too.

The baby squirmed when the wet cloth first made contact with it’s skin but soon she seemed to be relaxed. Reyna noticed that Thalia’s touch was even more gentle once she reached the top of the baby’s head.

“Is something wrong there?” Reyna hummed in curiosity.

“Nah,” Thalia shook her head. “You just have to be careful. See, babies have a little soft spot on the tops of their heads where their skull hasn’t fused together all of the way. If they get hit or touched too hard their it’s bad.”

That bit of information absolutely terrified Reyna. “Oh.”

“There,” Thalia rested her hands on her hips for a moment, “done. You can dry her off if you want.”

“I’m perfectly fine with observing,” Reyna laughed nervously.

“Alright, if you insist.” Thalia bundled up the little girl with ease before tucking her snugly in the crook of her arms. “But she’s cute...look at her!”

“Believe me, I have.” Reyna replied. “For someone who was so ready to take on all of Olympus you seem to be rather...attached.”

“And you’re not?” Thalia quirked an eyebrow. “I mean look at those chubby cheeks. Though, they aren’t as chubby as Jason’s were when he was little. Boy did he have some baby fat.”

“Thalia, I’m gonna finish this up you can finish whatever you’re doing with her,” Reyna tucked her hands on her pockets, “then maybe it’s wise if he had a talk.”

— — —

Reyna had finished the crib and the baby was out like a light once it was set up in the edge of their room. Both Aurum and Argentum were curious as to what the heck was now in their house and sat outside the crib staring in expectantly.

“Are we really keeping her?” Reyna asked.

“Of course, what else do we do?” Thalia frowned. “It’s not like there’s a return policy.”

“I know,” Reyna rolled her eyes, “I’m just not-“

“Comfortable?” Thalia finished. “Rey, I wasn’t comfortable with Jason at first. You learn. That’s the whole freaking point. It’s not like we’re both at a complete loss. There’s an advantage in that.”

“Yeah well the whole idea of a kid being that small is-“

“Scary. Of all the things in the world you’re scared of a baby?” It wasn’t hard to read the mood of disbelief on Thalia’s face.

“It’s fragile.”

“Well duh.”

“I’m not good at ‘fragile’”

“Pffft, and I am?” Thalia laughed. Just the past week she’s accidentally punched a little kid too hard on the arm when trying to give him a pep talk. “You know what? Stay there.”

“What are you doing?” Reyna asked in alarm as Thalia scooped up the sleeping baby. “No, I am not holding her.”

“Come on! It’s not so bad.” Thalia sat on the edge of the bed giving Reyna a serious look.

“Don’t you dare.” But it was too late, Thalia had already thrust the sleeping child into Reyna’s arms. “Thalia Grace I will murder you!”

“I’ll take my chances.” Reyna was stiff, she sat with a straight spine, tense shoulders, and rigid hands gripping the sleeping little girl. “Loosen up, relax a little.”

“I am relaxed.”

“Then that’s horrible relaxation.” Thalia snorted. Reyna gave her wife a dirty glare and relaxed the slightest bit.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

— — —

Reyna still wasn’t sure about the situation. She watched the baby’s nose scrunch up like a little rabbit’s, saw a small fist squished up against its cheek, and she felt that it was all a ploy to get her to fall in love.

She couldn’t be tricked like that-but then there was the cute little sneeze, and then the yawn. Her defenses were absolutely destroyed, but she was still cautious.

“You doing alright?” Thalia asked after a couple of moments.

“Please, just hold my hand.” Reyna held out her hand expectantly and Thalia took it in her own. “I’m literally shaking.”

“Good lord you’re so dramatic!”

“In Latin you idiot what do you expect?” Reyna scoffed.

“Can we keep her?” Thalia asked seriously. There was a long pause and Thalia’s anxiety only grew.

“Yes...but I get to name her.” Reyna decided.

“What?! Why?!”

“Because this was your father’s stunt. Not mine!” Thalia wanted to slap the smug smirk off of Reyna’s face but she reluctantly agreed to the deal.

“Fine...but only because I love you.”

“That’s what I thought.”