#she's like. late 60s. possibly older.

[penofwildfire]

The Libberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[akilahia]

Thinking about IHNMAIMS in pretty much all of its forms.

Specifically Ted and Ellen. Obviously in the Game their relationship is very different from the short story/comic/radio drama, with Ted being in love with Ellen(although it’s evident it’s because she is the only woman left alive). In the game he shows devotion to her, he is willing to push past his usual methods of flirtation and find other ways to get what he needs.

But in the other adaptions his feelings towards Ellen are mixed. I think his unique backstory with being so dependent on women to live a happier and more lavish life style, significantly effect how he views Ellen beyond AM’s tampering

Throughout the short story Ted constantly thinks ill of Ellen. Even though prior to being placed in this hell, she had only had sex twice before. But she is the last woman alive on earth. The video game(while following a different plot line(still one that is extremely tragic and literally made me cry)) expresses that even before Ellen’s assualr she had little to no interest in sex. She would never have had sex with the four men if it weren’t for

1. AM

2. Being the Last women alive

3. AM’s deliberate tampering

In a world where characters like Benny have been so permanently physically marked as a form of torture by AM, something like sex, is not as extreme in comparison(at least from Ted’s perspective). However to be the last woman alive, with minimal interest in sex, to be tampered with in such a way, is such a horrific form of torture.

I’m going to shift a way from this for a second to talk about Ted’s backstory for the video game. I understand that the videogame makes changes in terms of backstory for some of the characters(like Benny), so we can’t claim Ted’s backstory for the game is even remotely close to whatever it might have been for the short story. However, I still think can provide interesting context to his behavior towards Ellen.

Starting off, he really isn’t the cool rich guy that he played himself off to be when life was still normal. He never came from money, he was poor and he was forced to work and couldn’t go to school. However he was good looking which is resulted in older woman being attracted to him. And when he was NINETEEN, one older woman gave him her husband’s money and offered him the chance to travel and live in luxury.

Now this probably isn’t important, or was even taken into consideration by the game makers, but I was curious as to what the possible age gap between this older woman and Ted could be. The were together for 5 years, then she died

She died specifically of an aneurysm, which according to Google typically happens between the ages of 30 to 60. There is all this stuff with the Cold War and ww3 and I was going to try to do all this math with it but it’s too late for that and not relevant to the point I’m trying to make. But I’m just going to do some simple mental math and estimate that it might have been late 60’s or early 70’s when the older woman and Ted first got into a relationship. As I’m assuming everything went to shit in 1995 since that’s when the game came out, and 25 years had passed after he met the woman. Also this makes sense as Ted’s grandfather sold the farm due to the Great Depression, since most people married and had kids young, I’m going to be generous and say grandpa was 30 in 1929, and Ted’s mother or father was 9, then 10-12 years later Ted was born. Then 19 years later it would be about the 60’s or 70’s.

I am going to presume that the older woman had been married to her husband for at least 15 years. So it might have been 50’s at the earliest possibility. And the average age people married at then was when they were in their 20’s. So when she met Ted she was AT THE EARLIEST 35. Making her at least 16 years older than Ted when the first got together. But also worth noting that they do specifically mention older. So if we look on the higher side of the typical ages for aneurisms she could have been 55 when they first met(as the 5 years would pass making her 60) so she could have been 36 years older than him.

This seriously isn’t relevant to the actual point I’m trying to make with Ellen and Ted but I got sucked in. I guess I just wanted to highlight that Ted did not have the power in this relationship, he was young and poor, while she was old and rich, and I can imagine how that kind of relationship would impact him.

The next thing I want to note is the use of the word ‘lover’.

Though it can be used in a strictly romantic non intimate sense, I think it is used in the sexual way here.

Especially with the provided context of two different definitions of the word ‘lover’ both highlighting it’s connotations with sexual relationships

Furthermore, Ted’s relationship with the older woman is essentially just a sugar baby relationship. She is letting him experience things he never could have without her money. She teaches him how to act as a socialite and gets him used to the high life.

In connection to the sexual elements above, there was a video I wanted to link here but I can’t find it anywhere anymore. It was a YouTube video with a bunch of sugar babies discussing their experiences. And one woman confides that you really won’t make much money if you are in a platonic or non intimate romantic relationship with your sugar parent. If you want to make money and live richly, you have to preform sexual favors.

Now it’s hard to say if this was the only relationship with an older woman that Ted had been in. But regardless of whether it was one woman or a billion, using his body in order to get something that he wants has become an important asset to Ted; As seen in the castle with the maid and the witch. His love for Ellen(in the video game) helps him break past this fatal flaw of his, despite AM’s obvious temptations to make him fail.

Even if this stuff was in anyone’s minds when they wrote Ted’s backstory but I think it’s extremely important to note, especially as we return to my main point.

As stated before, Ted views Ellen negatively due to her promiscuity, despite the desire(felt really gross typing this word in this context) being placed in her as a form of torture by AM. She also is a woman, and Ted’s life has been spent around using and being used by women, so definitely lots of conflicting stuff there. Additionally Ted’s experiences with sexual relations are shown to be based in being transactional.

When he agrees with Ellen to go to the caves to get the food, she rewards him by being intimate with him to show her gratitude. Ted sees it as her ‘using him.’ (From the Radio Drama, I was going to post the clip but I could only post one video in a tumblr post apparently)

In the comic, after this encounter he questions her motivations. What she got out of it, once again thinking transactionally. But her response

“Does there have to be a reason”

Really gets to me. Especially after looking at all this intertextual context. Thinking about video game Ted’s backstory with book Ted’s thoughts and behaviors, he is shown to always think there is some kind of catch. No one is doing something without getting something in return, especially if that thing is kindness.

Ted is so intensely paranoid(as seen in all versions). I think by pairing up the backstory for the game with the short story/comic/radio drama it’s evident to see how heavily affected he is by it.

He thinks he has been tormented less by AM, making him paranoid of the others, contributing towards his behavior towards Ellen. Yet despite everything from the past and all of AM’s tampering, he still finds comfort with Ellen. Her unfaltering kindness manages to reach him even when he dismisses it as a farce. She doesn’t hate him or the others for how they’ve treated her, she still wants to help them. He still cares for her and the others. But he is filled with so much fear. He even apologizes to her.

I feel like at that point in the Radio drama marks a shift. Ted has made a realization about AM and it’s a lot for him, but Ellen is there for him. It’s a genuinely sincere act of kindness from her where she doesn’t ask or expect anything in return. They have some kind of connection. Once again blending the different versions, I think that this moment between them comes together in the end when they kill the other victims together. They don’t speak to each other, they just do it quickly and he kills her. And here he doesn’t refer to her by any degrading names. In the comic he holds her. Like how in the radio drama she held him.

Overall I just wanted to point out how well all these versions really mix to provide so much more behind each character. The backstories for the video game allow the reader to understand book Ted’s actions and relationships from a new angle.

The is was super duper major mess of a ramble. It’s now 3 am and I have a migraine, so I’m done for tonight. I might clean this up another time or make another post about Video game Ted with context to his backstory since I didn’t include the events from the video game in here.

Once again these are just my thoughts and beliefs on how I think the video game backstory for Ted provides interesting context for Book Ted. I know that both stories play out differently and both Ted’s act differently so please don’t get angry if you disagree with the message of stuff I said

mini sequel post about video game Ted

[gilverrwrites]

What do you think about a pinning Roy finally getting the girl after some time being in rehab and all that? I'm sure he'll be so happy and feeling lucky!

I love this! It has so much potential for slow burn with a big, soft explosive ending, as well as the possibility of angst.

I immediately thought of his girl as a teenage/young love sweetheart. Somebody he has this idealist image of in his head. They gave each other their V cards, have all these memories of summer road trips and late nights together, but as they got older it was harder and harder for her to watch him destroy himself. They have this awful bitter break-up.

Roy, however, can’t stay mad at her for long. Queue: Him texting her constantly from all over the world, whenever he thinks about her. Usually, it's friendly, until he’s had too much. Then he gets needy, desperate, downright rude when she stops responding, until one day she sends him an essay telling him that it is unfair of him to keep contacting her like this, that it’s making it hard for her to move on, that she keeps warming back up to him and he keeps reminding her why they broke up by getting wasted and doing something stupid, and that she will be blocking him post voicemail/text whatever.

So, whenever he’s back in town he starts showing up at her place with worse and worse excuses. “Just passing by, thought I’d say hi.” “I lost my arm support, think I left a spare here, mind if I look?” “Lian kept asking about you, and it’s my weekend so I thought we’d surprise you.”

And they keep almost getting there. Ill-advised kisses. Seeking the other out when they need comfort from a long-time friend. Bumping into each other and winding up spending the day together just because it's so easy to fall into stride. Maybe she even starts dating other guys which causes even more problems, and makes him emotional and then he spirals proving even more why she was right to break up with him.

But they never take the plunge because either she just doesn’t buy that he’s ready for that yet, or because he proves he’s not ready yet by going out on a bender or drinking too much over dinner.

Obviously, she’s only one of many reasons he finally decides to get sober and when he starts going to rehab and attending AA, he doesn’t tell her until he gets his 30-day chip. Then he shows up at her door once again to show her, she is happy for him, ecstatic, but she needs more commitment than 30 days. He mails her all his proceeding chips, 60 days, 90 days, 4 months, 5, 6, 12. By the time he sees her again, she is ready.

She’s been waiting for this moment for months, she swings the doors open, and throws herself into his arms. They spend a whole weekend in bed joyously making up for lost time. Sorting their shit, making plans. They’re gonna move in together, somewhere with a second room for Lian, and space for a dining room, and a big TV. A garden large enough for Roy to have a shooting range and garage to tinker in.

They have years to catch up on. It’s perfect, nothing in this world could bring him down. They’re stronger than ever, Roy keeps attending his meetings, and then Heroes in Crisis happens.

[sweetspidergirl]

A Tangled Web (Spider HRT Story)

Chapter 1

“This is stupid. Why am I doing this?”

This question echoed in my head as I sat in the sterile waiting room of the doctor's office, accompanied by the sound of the clock ticking away in the background. Besides me and the receptionist behind the counter, there was no one else in the room. That made sense. With it being a few days before Christmas, who would willingly want to spend any amount of that time in such a depressing location?

A twenty-five year old woman dissatisfied with her life and seeking a new one, apparently.

As I sat there waiting for permission to see the doctor, my mind drifted back to how I got here. It was half a year ago where I first vented frustration over my life to my best friend Elisa, and she mentioned how I might be going through species dysphoria. She then sent me some articles and links and suggested I look into humanity removal therapy, or HRT.

I had been vaguely aware of humanity removal therapy, often referred to as therian HRT, for a few months by that point. It functioned mostly like hormone replacement therapy, only it would gradually change the patient into a human/animal hybrid, or therian. It was a recent development, only having been available to the public for a little over five years, and still had quite a bit of controversy associated with it from various political groups. Despite that, based on the testimonials I read and the various pictures I saw, the people who have gone through therian HRT seemed to be happier now than they ever had as humans. Maybe it would be worth it if I gave the whole thing a shot. Maybe being in another body might help me be happy again.

I glanced down at the blank screen of my phone, looking over myself in annoyance. I noted the long, messy brown hair that I barely made look presentable. I noted the pale skin caused by a lack of social interaction and preferring the light of a screen over the sun. I noted the oval-shaped glasses and casual hoodie and sweatpants that hid as much of me as possible. I was another drop of water in the ocean that was humanity. Even my blue eyes, once bright and full of hope, had started to appear dim and non-descript as of late.

“Taylor Thompson?”

I snapped out of my thoughts as the doctor called my name. Turning my head in his direction, I got a good look at the man who would be deciding my future. He was an older gentleman, probably in his 50s or 60s, with a grey receding hairline and mustache. His thick, round glasses made it hard for me to see his eyes. Grabbing my belongings, I quietly followed the doctor as he guided me to his office. The office was what I expected to see: a small, plain white room with a desk, degrees on the wall, and bookshelves full of books that I would be too dumb to properly understand. On the desk was a small nameplate that read “Dr. T. H. Erian, Species Dysphoria Specialist” in large, clean letters. I set my bag beside me and took my seat, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. I swallowed the lump of anxiety that was forming in my throat. There was no turning back now.

“So, Miss Thompson, what brings you here today?” Dr. Erian asked in a stern voice. One sentence in and I was already having flashbacks to my high school principal. The main difference here, however, was that my answers actually mattered for more than avoiding detention.

“I, um, was hoping to be prescribed therian HRT. Specifically spider HRT.” I answered, trying to remain calm and collected.

“I see… and why a spider, if I may ask?” The doctor questioned as he began writing something on a piece of paper in front of him.

“Well, I think spiders are a lot like me. Most people are scared of them, but in reality they’re mostly just nervous, adorable little beans.” I explained with a bit of blush on my face.

“Any preferred species of spiders?”

“I was hoping to be a tarantula. They're cute and fluffy, and I think I'd look just as good as one.”

“May I ask why you wish to undergo humanity removal therapy?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I've been unhappy with myself lately. My diet's been awful, I rarely go outside and interact, and in general I just hate everything about myself. My best friend, Elisa Andrews, thinks I might be going through species dysphoria. She works with therians and otherkin daily, so I assume she's right.” I explained to Dr. Erian. I then handed him a folder that contained the paperwork Elisa told me I'd need before being prescribed therian HRT: a medical examination, two psychological evaluations, written support from her and my father. I even spiced the folder up with doodles of webs and cartoon spiders in hopes that it would help my case.

Dr. Erian looked through the paperwork I gave him. I was unable to get a good idea of what he was thinking. His flat, emotionless voice was hard to read, and thanks to those glasses I couldn't tell whether he was impressed by work or annoyed at me wasting his time. I was hoping it was the former.

“Miss Thompson, before we continue, I'd like to ask an important question.” Dr. Erian spoke as he set the folder down in front of him on the desk. “How much do you know about therians?”

“How much do I know?” I asked curiously. “I mean, my best friend’s a physical therapist that works with therians, and I'm kinda aware of some of the legislature that's been passed recently-”

“That's not what I am referring to.” Dr. Erian interrupted. “I want to know if you understand what therians go through, what the process of going through humanity removal therapy is like and how you'll have to adapt. You are aware that I recommend patients spend some time living as their desired species before I prescribe them HRT, correct?”

“I-I mean… if it helps I have a few spider plushies.” I said sheepishly. I could already feel my luck running out.

Dr. Erian sighed and gently rubbed at his forehead before speaking again. “Miss Thompson, this is a serious life-changing procedure. Once you start therian HRT, your DNA will be rewritten to match your chosen species. You'll never be human again, even if you stop early into your therapy. I cannot prescribe it to just anyone who steps foot into my office.”

I sunk into my seat slightly, bringing my knees just under my chin as I almost curled up to feel safe and protected. “B-but… I was told you can help people with this kind of stuff.”

“I can, and I do. However, not everyone needs HRT. What you may think is species dysphoria could very well just be depression, and what you may need is something far simpler than a complete genetic rewrite.” The doctor explained.

I sat there in silence, barely listening to the doctor's words. He was saying so much when it all boiled down to one word: “no.” No, I couldn't get humanity removal treatment. No, I couldn't have happiness. No, I was doomed to hate myself for the rest of my miserable life. Tears started to creep their way out of my eyes, stinging slightly as they worked their way down my cheeks.

Just as I was about ready to give up and head home, I glanced up and noticed Dr. Erian looking through my papers once more. I was expecting him to scold me again. I hid my face against my knees and closed my eyes, bracing myself for his harsh words to wound my heart further.

“...are you sure becoming a tarantula will make you happy?”

I slowly brought my eyes up to look at Dr. Erian, not fully emerging from my self-made cocoon as I processed his question. What was making him change his mind? Did he believe that I'm suffering from species dysphoria after all, or was he simply taking pity on me? Regardless of the answer, I couldn't let this opportunity slip by my fingers.

“Y-yes… yes it will, doctor.” I responded, almost forcing myself to do so. A tense silence hung in the air for what felt like hours as Dr. Erian stared at me, almost examining me. I gripped the sides of my legs, waiting anxiously for either him to continue lecturing me or for me to have the courage to speak again.

“Well, if that is your answer, then I will approve you for tarantula HRT.” Dr. Erian said, writing on the piece of paper some more. “Considering it's the holiday season, it's likely your pharmacy won't receive your first dosage until after the new year, though.”

My heart almost skipped a beat at the news. I was… actually going to be a tarantula?! “Wait, really? You're… approving me for the HRT?” I asked, nearly jumping out of my seat. “Oh thank you Doc! Thank you very, very much!”

Dr. Erian sighed, writing some more information down on the paper. “As I explained, transitioning to a different species won't be easy. There will be some side effects to expect as your body changes.” He explained, making sure I had calmed down a bit before he continued. “Not all therians will experience the same side effects. Not all side effects will be present at once. Some will show up at different stages of your transition. At the earliest stages of spider HRT, I would primarily expect to see itchy skin as your hair grows in, as well as weight gain to provide material for your additional body parts to develop. Beyond that, you may experience headaches, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, and possible body pain.”

After making sure I understood the side effects I might encounter during my transition, Dr. Erian started digging through a drawer in his desk, and from there pulled out two items. The first was a pamphlet that had “Welcome to your Humanity Removal Therapy” written on the cover, alongside “Species: Spider” and a minimalist illustration of him. “This pamphlet will help guide you through your transition, Miss Thompson. It provides details on a recommended meal plan, the type of environment you should live in, a rough timeline of what changes you should expect and when you should expect them, a full list of potential side effects, and more.” The doctor explained. “I would make sure to give this a thorough read if I were you. I'll also be sending you a digital copy after our meeting. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me and I will provide an answer at the earliest convenience.”

I took the pamphlet in my hands, almost crushing it in excitement. “Of course Doc. I'll definitely give it a read once I get home.”

Just as I was about to get up and leave, Dr. Erian cleared his throat. “There is one other thing I must discuss with you before we conclude here, Miss Thompson.” He said, causing me to sit back down in my seat. “I still disapprove of you not doing any research on therian culture prior to our meeting. So… I'd like for you to interact with other therians while you're taking HRT. It's not mandatory, but I do feel it will not only help you learn about your new lifestyle but also potentially help with your mood.”

As Dr. Erian said that, he handed another item. I took it in my hands and looked it over. Instead of another pamphlet, it was a flyer detailing a therian support group that was close to where I lived. It detailed that it was bi-weekly, and that it was open to those on HRT, regardless of stage, as well as those questioning.

“I'll keep that all in mind. Thank you so much for all of this, Doc.” I said, stuffing the papers in my bag. After discussing insurance and other important information to get my prescription set in stone, I left the office and gave a heavy exhale as soon as I was outside. That was probably the most stressful talk I've ever had, but it was done and over with. While I stood outside and caught my breath, my phone started buzzing. Pulling it out, I saw that I was getting a call from Elisa.

“So, how'd it go?” Elisa asked, sounding exceedingly curious. Looking at the time on my phone, I hadn't realized she had just finished with work by the time I finished my meeting.

“Well, I managed to get the prescription, so that's good. You didn't tell me he was gonna be so scary though.” I answered back with a tiny bit of irritation in my voice.

“Hey I never met the guy personally. Besides, you still got the HRT in the end, so it all worked out.” Elisa answered back. “So how long before you start spinning webs and crawling up walls?”

“Well, my first dosage won't arrive until after the new year. Beyond that, well…” I trailed off a bit, glancing back at my bag and the papers inside of it. “I have some homework to do.”

---

NEXT:

Welcome everyone! This is the start of a (hopefully) long-term project I intend to work on. This is the story of Taylor Thompson, a 25-year-old woman seeking a change in life through humanity removal therapy. In the process of transitioning from human to spider, she'll learn more about the world of therians, as well as learn more about herself and what she wants out of life.

I want to thank @ayviedoesthings, @welldrawnfish, @entroart, @bubbleverseart, @nyxisart, @prettiestplatypus, @deadeyedfae, @kaylasartwork, and anyone else I may have forgotten (there's a lot of people I'm so sorry ><) for creating the world of therian HRT and creating such a community, as well as my fiancé for showing them to me and for inspiring me to give my own version a try. I can't say when the second chapter will be done, so just keep your eyes open, and I hope you all will join me on this long, wild ride.

Thank you so much in advance.

[short-wooloo]

We now have no fuckin clue how old Luminara is

Like, common fanon is that she's in Quinlan and Obi-Wan's age group, but between Vernestra Rwoh being 116 and looking like she's in her 40s and Barriss looking like she's in her late 50s-early 60s when she couldn't possibly be older than mid 40s, any ability to make reasonable guesses about Luminara's age (and therefore what Jedi were her cohorts in youth) or any other Mirialan is out the window

She could be in Mace Windu’s age group, Qui-Gon's, Dooku's, for all we know Yoda, Yaddle, Yarael Poof, and Oppo Rancisis are the only Jedi who are definitively older than her

[oneinathousand]

I've assembled some lesser-known quotes about Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, I hope there's at least one in here that most of you have never seen before, though the super-fans among you have likely seen them all ;)

Lee fancies himself playing Aragorn, the archetypal heroic figure of the piece - he would probably be cast as Sauron, the Satanic figure in Tolkien's Middle Earth - but he feels that only a Walt Disney feature cartoon could possibly do justice to the work.

-"Cinemafantastique" Vol 3 No 1 (Fall 1973)

I knew that Lee wanted to play Gandalf when he jumped on board the LOTR movie trilogy, but I didn't know he apparently originally wanted to play Aragorn! My guess is that once he got older, he figured he would be better as Gandalf, though of course he didn't get it. But Lee as Aragorn... if he played the part in the late 50's, 60's or early 70's, I could see him pulling it off, what with his swordfighting abilities. Did he ever comment on the Ralph Bakshi adaptation?

After the liberation of Germany, he [Lee] visited a number of the concentration camps, including Dachau, a deeply disturbing experience which, he says, provided him with such a close-up view of the charnel house side of real life that he is unaffected by anything he sees or does on the screen.

-The Dracula Scrapbook, Peter Haining

I have decided now to tell a tale a bit "out of school" regarding the relationship between Peter and Helen Cushing, especially since this is a lady who remains a bit of a mystery to most Cushing fans - like a figure out of an Edgar Allan Poe tale, considering the way Peter lionized her as if she was indeed his "lost Lenore." During the latter part of 1977, I saw quite a bit of Christopher Lee as he and his family were living in Los Angeles where he played golf (and made the occasional film or television movie of the week.) One afternoon, we were at lunch, and the subject of Peter and his wife came up in conversation; Christopher leaned over to me and said, "You know David, Helen Cushing was a bit of a psychic vampire in life; she kept Peter very close. It was as if she could read his very thoughts before they had them. They really were soulmates of the first order; make no mistake about that! I don't think Helen ever really trusted me where Peter was concerned - even after he and I had made several films together. In fact, Helen used to say to me, "I know you think you are now bigger than my husband don't you?" Well, I just looked at her, smiled and said, "Well Helen, I am taller than Peter you know." Christopher felt that Peter had such guilt - imagined or not - about anything he might have done when they were married; if for example he ever found himself attracted to any of the Hammer glamour girls; whom he worked opposite, it all was now too much to bear. On the other hand, Vincent Price responded to Peter's intense mourning with his usual brand of humor. During the filming of Madhouse, he observed Peter discussing ways of communication from beyond the grave by perhaps installing a phone in the crypt; Vincent listened to all this and then replied with that unmistakably deadpan voice, "Well Peter, what if she's out?"

-David Del Valle, "Diabolique" #16

A few of you may recall seeing a quote posted here from Lee calling Helen a psychic vampire. I tried to find the source for that, but I couldn't. Instead I found this other version, possibly by the same person, which seems to give more insight about what Lee actually thought of Helen, and it comes off as much less harsh on his part than the other one.

A while back, I looked up interviews about the making of The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, and I swore I saw a magazine or something where Roy Ward Baker, the co-director of the movie along with the Shaw Brothers, said something about Cushing during the making of it to the effect of: “He was absolutely miserable, poor bugger.” But I forgot to take a screenshot of it then and for the life of me I couldn’t remember where it came from, I tried to look through my search history but couldn’t find it. I swear that I saw it, though!

Oh well. Next up is a quote about Lee and Cushing watching Looney Tunes together for the last time, get your tissues out...

In the early 90s I worked for Hammer Films and was asked to organise a voiceover recording for a Hammer Films documentary. Both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee had agreed to work together one last time. Christopher Lee had asked me to organise one thing: a television and a VHS player in a private room and to have some alone time with Peter. After the recording, I cleared the studio and left Peter and Christopher alone with the TV. They hadn’t noticed that I was still at the mixing desk so I waited to see what they were going to be watching. I saw Count Dooku and Grand Moff Tarkin sit watching Looney Tunes cartoons – each doing perfect impersonations of Sylvester the Cat and Tweety Pie – all line perfect! I can’t remember exactly – but I think Christopher Lee was Tweety Pie and Peter Cushing was Sylvester.

-"Popbitch" 2015 Annual, the quote is just credited to a "JH", but IMDB lists a Jane Hughes as having worked as an assistant director in the Canterbury studio where Lee and Cushing recorded their voiceover, so this is most likely her. I personally would like to believe that Lee was playing Sylvester and Cushing was Tweety because Lee said he was always Sylvester to Cushing, and come on, Cushing MUST have been Tweety, that character would fit him like a glove!

For this final quote, I'm gonna do something different and copy-paste a whole interview done with Lee by a guy named John Exshaw about Cushing a year before the latter died for the magazine Cinema Retro, the interview being put up on their website. The formatting on the interview is all messed up, so I fixed the apostrophes and em-dashes and will put the whole thing here for your enjoyment.

I find this interview fascinating not so much for what Lee says about Cushing, but for how it implied he saw himself compared to Peter:

I didn’t meet him until we did the first Hammer movie. I’d seen him. Of course the thing which I’d seen which impressed me most, understandably, was 1984, which was remarkable. He was wonderful in that… Live TV! [shudders]

Total dedication; and this is the answer to why Peter Cushing is an actor. Total dedication. Total! The most professional actor I have ever worked with. And I’m not going to say underrated, because he isn’t underrated. He’s highly regarded all over the world as a brilliant actor, and deservedly so. The record shows that… Also, one thing that we do share, I think, more than anything, which is more important than anything else - I think we share the same dedication, I think we share professionalism, I think we share the same feelings about doing the best we can - one thing we certainly share is the same sense of humor, which of course the general public is totally unaware of. If they knew what we got up to on the set in every film we’ve made… the imitations that I used to do… Oh, we used to dance together in the rushes, yes; me made up as the Frankenstein creature, a sort of, a sort of, what do you call it - buck-and-wing dance, you know. And in years and years and years he and I have shared this idolatrous love of the Warner Brothers cartoons, you see, and Sylvester, and Tweetie Pie, and Yosemite Sam. And I’ve always imitated them, you see, and he’s done the same. And we used to do that on a set; people used to think we’d gone out of our minds, and we’d make each other laugh. Sometimes it’s so important - in a way, it’s absolutely essential - but we’re both of us ice-cold when it comes to doing it, even if we’ve been been laughing a few moments before. And that’s a thing we also share, total concentration.

And what can I say about Peter Cushing that I haven’t said before? I mean, consummate actor, brilliant technician, and a marvellous human being. I’ve always said, you know - I’m sure you’re aware of this - that he should have been a priest… Because there is a great love for his fellow man. There’s an almost superhuman loving kindness in Peter, and it’s always been in there. I’ve never heard him say anything harsh about anyone. He’s also a deeply religious man. Those are the two things we don’t have in common. I’m afraid I do say what I think. I’m not tactless but I am a more direct person than he is. I don’t have his tolerance. I don’t have his gentleness. I don’t have his faith; I wish I did…

He is not an easy person to get to know, believe you me. There’s a lot about Peter that I don’t know… But of course, as you know, Helen died in the 1970’s and that is his only desire left in life. And it’s genuine. He has stayed alive because he’s a man who would never take his own life because that would be a great sin, and he has stayed alive through some pretty terrible experiences, you know. He’s had cancer, and problems with his legs, his hips, breathing, and all sorts of medical problems, but the spirit is unquenchable and the speed of thinking and the mind haven’t changed at all. I mean, it’s another cliche - the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The same thing with Vincent [Price]; mind like a rapier, both of them. Only the physical disabilities of getting old…

But he’s certainly one of a kind, and of course this business of staying alive, simply existing, which is how he looks at his life - existence. He’s only waiting for that moment; only waiting for it. And he’s been waiting now for twenty-three years. It must be terrible to be so admired and so loved and so respected but to impose, I feel, on yourself, deliberately, a sort of monastic seclusion which he seems to prefer. He seems to; I mean, you wouldn’t think of it if you saw him with a group of people but I think he prefers to be alone. I don’t think the house is full of people. I don’t think there’s many very, very close, intimate friends - but nor have I, and nor have many people.

Acquaintances, yes; admirers, yes - scores of thousands all over the world, people who feel they know him, people who feel that he’s a friend - all that. That’s on a professional basis; I think on a personal basis, I get the impression that he’s a person who keeps his life and his relationship with his wife very much to himself. It’s locked up in a cupboard of which he has the key. He doesn’t open that cupboard and release anything unless he chooses to. But I don’t either.

[bookishdaze]

Anyways, I wish to ramble about Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes and the new trailer because these next 3 months are gonna be excruciating. Here we goooo.

Okay when I first saw this shot, the first thought crossing my mind was "Wow. Those eyes." These movies will once again have apes with prettier eyes than me, lol. They're blown so wide open here. It's so detailed and I love that the apes' expressions are more human-like. And I wonder why Noa is looking more visibly upset than his friends.

The way he rubs the little chimp's head is so cute! I love this. Sweet older brother vibes.

I just know Noa is thinking "this guy's not right in the head." This is the face I make when I want to crawl away from a conversation with someone making me feel really uncomfortable.

He's shouting "PULL!" here. Later in the trailer we see apes pulling at chains at the same time. Are they trying to build a ship? (Noah's ark, anyone?) Open a bunker door to access tech? What are they doinggggg?

Took me way too long to realize the mural is depicting an astronaut.

People are saying this is her Statue of Liberty moment. I personally don't even think she is an astronaut tbh. I notice she is crying while looking through the telescope. I don't think it's because she is learning she is stuck hundreds of years into the future. I think she could be sad about humanity's downfall. Or she just thinks the stars are pretty and is overwhelmed. Or she's got dust in her eye, lol. I think in this scene Noa and Mae will share some fascination with the cosmos or something.

This scene is so sweet! He's shyly giving her a blue sweater here. I cannot wait to see their dynamic play out.

Anyways, I'm putting on my tinfoil hat and calling it now, I think there is a SLIM possibility we'll get weird romantic undertones. But like. That's it. I'm not saying anything explicit. But likeeeeeeeee this idea has been toyed with since the 60s in the novel between Ulysse and Zira. I recently read the book and rewatched all 9 movies and I'm surprised at the unusual amount of romance. So there's a precedent. That's all I'm saying. Alrighty carrying on, lol.

I think the ape elder Noa speaks with (Koro, I think?) dies here while Noa is falling off one of those phone towers his clan lives in. Rip.

We are FINALLY getting more female apes. Two at the forefront, and I think I see a few in the background. Which was my one nitpick in the Caesar trilogy. I expected the lack of girls in the originals, but in the more modern ones? Cmon.

Now I'm just waiting on a female orangutan and gorilla, please 🙏

Also, remember the blue sweater he gives Mae? I think I see it on the ground. What happened here? I notice Noa is caught in a net trying to reach his spear. I think Mae fell in the water because of the concept art we've been shown. Can apes swim? I sure hope so.

And there's so much more I wanna talk about, but I'll let my thoughts rest and go to bed. It's getting late.

[siriuslychessi]

For the @jilychallenge a bit late since this was for July.

Partners: @tedwardremus and @thecasualauthor

AO3 | FF

Summer trip to (uninhabited, remote, idyllic holiday) island but by accident A & B are left behind alone (or they miss the boat back to main land or a shipwreck (boat wreck??) happens

James Potter could never stay still, it was a blessing and a curse. He could be bored to death in a class and he would always be restless somehow. He would either bounce his leg, write on the corner of his books and parchments, or play with a stolen Snitch when professors were not looking. 

It wasn’t James’ fault that he was so full of energy, he did try to stay still, he did try to seem like he was paying attention, but in reality he was bored in many of them. Having eidetic memory and an abundance of energy really played against him. 

However, when it came to classes outdoors James became much more serene. He loved Care of Magical creatures, going to the grounds exploring, or how he needed to get his hands dirty with Herboly, but what had gotten his attention lately was Astronomy. 

Professor Pruitt had a hands-on approach to teaching, he rarely liked the Tower for his teachings and was always testing their knowledge in the field (near the Forbidden Forest), which James was always excited for. And even if at first he took the class for an easy O, now it had become one of his favourite ones. 

For his 6th year students, Professor Pruitt had a surprise; they would travel to the coast to be able to watch a comet that passed near earth every 60 years, and this time around it would be visible in the southern part of the country. 

It meant a trip with the Astronomy class for two nights, maybe if the weather would allow it they might be able to enjoy a bit of the beach before returning to classes and tests, and all the things they needed to overcome before the end of the school year. One last trip of fun before going back to the responsibility of the upcoming reality that awaited them back home. 

James and his friends were beyond excited. Even if Sirius already knew the sky like the back of his hand, Remus was so determined to get as many O’s as possible that he learned everything he could from the book the Professor used for class. Peter was something to admire, he might not know every star, but knew every constellation name and their stories, and how they related to magical events. It was a thing of wonder.

All they could do was plan for the trip and hope that the usual group of bigoted students wouldn’t make things worse. 

Once they finally arrived at the Isles of Scilly the weather was amazing, it screamed to ditch the group and just got to the beach, however Professor Pruitt had other plans. 

“Before I lose you lads to the island, I must remind you that this is not a leisure trip, we are here with a purpose, and thus I must give you these.” The older man handled everyone a parchment with a copy of the assignment, “The comet will be visible around 4am, so we must get there before that and settle, some muggle bystanders might be around, so please refrain from using magic.” he explained, as he finished handling the paper, “You have been randomly paired, no you can not swap, and I expect a full report by the end of this trip. That is all.” 

James was sure that whomever he would be paired with it wouldn’t be too terrible. 

As he scanned the paper he heard a familiar voice exclaim: “Potter?!”

Lily had read the list of things they needed to measure and how to better calculate the trajectory of the comet to get accurate readings and optimal experience. She knew that celestial events affected living beings and that might affect the ingredients and steps in potion making, so she was taking this class fairly seriously, as she wanted to pursue a career in Potions. 

Everything seemed in order, instructions were straight forward, and she could actually picture herself relaxing before going to the top of the nearby mountain for a better view.

That was until she saw the name of the person she was paired with: James Potter.

The gods did not smile upon her, Lily had had a weird relationship with the fellow Gryffindor, they weren’t on bad terms at the moment, but she felt that they were not exactly friends. And in spite of him being a great student, and probably a great teammate, she just remembered how he could not stay put for more than 5 minutes. Which might infuriate her at the end of a long evening. 

After she, unintentionally, said his last name out loud, everyone in their group turned to her. The tone of her skin matching the one of her hair. 

“All right, Evans?” she heard James Potter asked.

Lily blushed harder. 

“Yes, just didn’t expect us to be paired.” she admitted, putting the parchment inside her back. 

James seemed like he was mulling over something, was she really that loud? Was her tone that annoyed? She didn’t want to go back to the awkward phase they were in after 5th year, once was enough. They have so many friends in common she did not want to go back to weather talk. 

“I thought somehow you would charm the papers to be with Sirius, we all know you two can not be apart.” she tried joking, making some eyes roll. 

“He knows he can’t have me forever, Red.” Sirius chipped in, “I should find McKinnon to sort the schedules.” he explained, patting James' shoulder, who looked disheartened, he was not looking at Lily, nor at Sirius leave. James was just nodding to his friend’s statement.

One by one they all went to their partners trying to come up with a plan where they could all enjoy and do the assignment. Leaving James and Lily alone to speak. 

James ran his hand through his hair, messing it more than it already was. Something she had noticed increased near herself. 

Did she make him nervous?

“We should also try to schedule our times.” she offered, hoping that it would be an olive branch more than anything. 

Every interaction with James and Lily seemed weird, they were not on bad terms, they were amicable towards each other, but it seemed that as much as they both changed (individually and as friends) things weren’t smooth. James was always afraid of saying the wrong thing, and Lily always believed she was too hard on her fellow classmate, when lately she could see more of his point than she cared to admit. 

After a lot of fidgeting from James, not knowing what to do with his pent up energy. And Lily’s rambling and blushing, they decided that they would each pack a bag with different things, a thermos of warm tea, and met in front of the hotel at 3am when the classroom decided to leave with the Professor. 

Both of them tried to enjoy their day with their friends and did a bit of exploring around, enjoying the different view from Scotland and Hogwarts grounds. And one would say that they would be exhausted after a day at the beach where they did anything but lay down and sunbathe. 

However, James’ restless energy was too much to be contained. He did try to get a few hours of sleep, tossed and turned in bed as his mind went over the things in his bag, making a mental list trying to not forget anything, if he did he was sure that the awkwardness between him and Lily would be more palpable. But in spite of double checking that everything was correct, he could not find rest. 

Checking the watch on his nightstand he saw that it was around 2am. He still had one hour to meet with Lily, and the rest of the class, and judging by how awake he really was it would be almost impossible to fall asleep.

Suddenly an idea formed, it wasn’t a particularly bold one, but it was better than staying in bed looking at the ceiling.

Gathering his things, leaving a note in the nightstand and trying not to wake his best mate sleeping in the bed next to his, he climbed down the room to the front of the little hotel and to the street. 

The night was chillier than he expected, the day was so warm that he forgot that they were still in the United Kingdom and not some tropical place. It was good that he decided to bring a jumper. 

During the day James and his friends went exploring around, they found the place where Professor Pruitt had decided to take his students to see the comet. It was a nice mountain that overviewed the island. He figured that he had enough time to go up there, set the equipment in the best spot; gain some points with Lily, and go back before they needed to meet. 

Some people might think he was crazy and he would be beyond exhausted when he would get back with the group. Hindering the project in the process. But James knew that it was the opposite, he would be the right kind of tired, where he would be useful instead of trying to stay still and failing in the process. 

That’s how his journey started, with a positive attitude and considering if he should get snacks after he got back. 

The moon was half full, making it ideal to see the sky but also to not trip over the walk, and the path to the viewing spot wasn’t steep, with a good pace anyone could make it up and back. 

Due to the hour James imagined the path to be deserted, he figured he could transform into Prongs once he was more hidden by the surrounding trees, enjoying the freedom of running around a new landscape. It would be a great way to go and come back, doing even better time; not wanting to be late in case Lily decided to be there earlier than what they had agreed upon. 

Closing his eyes he focused on the familiar shapes of Prongs; the long legs, the white fur, the itchy antlers that were about to shade. Everything to evoke the perfect transformation. 

Feeling the familiar pull in his gut he let every other thought out from his head…

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice asked.

Of all the times that James expected to hear Lily Evans’ voice, in the middle of a transformation was not one of them. He knew things could go wrong if he did not focus and he tried his best to stop the spell as it were. It seemed that his body listened better than his brain.

“I couldn’t sleep.” he admitted, turning to look at her. 

Lily’s cheeks were sunkissed, James could see that she had spent a day at the beach. She would probably have a few more freckles after the trip. James found himself thinking. 

“So you decided to sneak out and go for a walk,” it wasn’t accusatory, it was matter-of-fact.

“If I stay in, I'll start waking everyone up, figured it would be best if I did something useful with my energy.” he shrugged, readjusting one of the straps of his backpack. 

“Seems we were both thinking the same thing.” 

Lily smiled at James, and it seemed all of the tension and worry from earlier had vanished; his shoulders relaxed, and he found himself smiling back at her. Maybe this wouldn’t be a disastrous pairing after all.

“Where were you planning on going?” Lily asked.

James blushed, he really didn’t want to be seen as the dork that wanted to be prepared, but it was true that was what he was thinking. “I thought maybe I could go and grab us a good spot to watch the comet.” he admitted, hoping she wouldn’t think he was the biggest dork in history. 

“Oh,” she sounded surprised, James was not sure how he felt about that. 

“That sounds like a great idea.” Lily added, as she was wondering why she didn’t think of that herself. She just wanted to get rid of some energy before the class gathered. 

They started walking in silence uphill, there was nothing much to distract them from the awkwardness. It was not that they didn’t have anything in common, just that Lily believed that everything she said sounded like a scolding, when she didn’t mean to. And James believed every word he uttered around Lily (unsupervised) was terrible or misconstructed. 

His body reacted oddly to that silence. He needed to say something, do something, other than just walk straight in that slow pace, so instead of following the boring old path he decided that he should skip along the logs that delimited the path from the woods. 

Lily looked at James as he balanced on each log precariously. “Don’t you ever do something normal?” she asked, genuinely curious, he never seemed to just follow a straight path or instructions, there was always a work around. Something that the other people would not do or think about. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, still walking, feeling his anxiety lower when he had to focus on balance.

Lily chuckled. He looked a bit childish, but in the best way, she didn’t remember the last time she played at anything like that. She had too many responsibilities and expectations in her to let go. 

“You never do what’s expected, if you go on a path instead of going through the designated area for walking you go on the sidelines. If a professor asks you for an assignment you always ask a million questions on the importance of said work, like you never do just what is expected of you, you are always too curious to just follow what has already been set up. It’s a bit unnerving.” She admitted, making James’ heart sink a little. “It is also refreshing.” she admitted finally, not really looking at him, she believed that even with the darkness of the night he would still see her blush.

James chuckled at her words, “Why don’t you try it?” he offered, “Who is to say that you are not supposed to walk on these if you want a less taciturn experience?” he continued, “There are a few things that can only be looked from one point of view, my parents taught me that, they always taught me to ask a lot of questions.” he admitted “Besides, if you don’t come up here, you wouldn’t notice there is a stream below that looks gorgeous under the dim moonlight.” 

Lily was surprised by that, it seemed great to ask a lot of questions when facing things that seemed a bit unfair and out of touch, but some things were too straight forward for you to be questioning them. However, at James’ mention of a different view she now was eager to see what was to look at things under his perspective. 

She climbed on the log as he did, looking at the creek below them, and as James said it was gorgeous, like something unperturbed by the humans that passed through that path every day. It made Lily wonder what else James saw that the rest of them did not. 

The walk got easier from them, at least in terms of conversation. It got easier to understand each other after that, setting aside past prejudices and trying to see things from each other’s perspective. 

Lily learned that James’ parents asked him as many questions as he asked everyone else, trying to have an open and interesting relationship with his son. James learned that Lily put a lot of other people’s expectations on her shoulder trying to be the perfect friend, sister and daughter, and understood a bit better why she always seemed to be so stern even when in reality she was funny and witty, and as curious as James.

They continued to chat amicably, conversation grew easily the more time it passed. James was glad for it, and Lily seemed to be relaxing a bit more now that there was nothing more than a walk. 

At some point Lily got distracted, she was not sure how he lost her footing, if it was a tricky log, slippery, or her body was too tired and she did not realise it. But all in all she knew she was falling to the creek and she could just hear herself scream and trying to hold on to something to stop it. 

“Lily!” James was heard yelling after her. And then she felt something warm and soft around her, making her fall soft as she rolled downhill. James had stopped it. 

“Are you okay?” Lily heard James ask, and she took account of her body. She was a bit sore, and she knew she would hurt more later on, but it all seemed okay at the moment. 

“Yes, I think so. Just a bit wet.” she admitted, as she knew they got to the creek by unconventional ways, all she wanted to do was get up and dry herself, get back to the path so they could get to see the comet. However, life had other plans.

As soon as Lily put weight on her foot, a searing pain went up her leg, making her scream at the top of her lungs and falling back down on her bum. 

James hurried to duck next to her and looked all over to see any injuries, “Where?” he was frantic as he saw the colour drained from Lily’s face. 

“Foot.” was all she could muster, as she breathed the pain away. Slowly managing to get the unbearable pain to a low throb.

“Okay, it’s going to be okay,” he moved his hand, a little wince as he pulled his wand and showed it was broken in half. “Fuck.” he muttered. Lily’s eyes went as wide as they could. 

“Oh no, James your wand, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He was panting as her, maybe he hit something as well, they took a pretty nasty fall, but he seemed okay in spite of not having his wand. “Maybe we can use yours? I know a few casting spells to keep that not moving until we get back.” he explained, but as Lily went to retrieve her wand she felt nothing in her pocket. 

“I think it might have fallen.” she said quietly, hating that she hadn’t learned yet how to accio it back, she had been trying but there was so much on her plate at the moment. 

“We can come back with light and try to find it. But first we need to get out of here.” He took off his backpack, wincing again, making Lily worry.

“Are you okay yourself?” Lily asked worriedly. 

“Brill, just sore.” he lied, but Lily did not have to know that on top of her nasty sprain, he had sprained his wrist as well. He could endure, he had had worse with Quidditch matches and Snape’s & Co. hexes. “You do know how to fall.” he tried teasing her worries away, instructing her to put the backpack herself. “You’ll carry it, I’ll carry you.” 

Instructions were easy enough, Lily just had to lay off her foot, and James was already turning around so Lily could climb onto his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Making Lily feel a bit embarrassed. 

“Isn’t it too heavy? You could go up and get someone.” she offered, worried that he was doing too much. 

“I won’t leave you here all alone in the middle of the night.” James was not taking no for an answer, he was just waiting for Lily to feel secure to start climbing the steep hill himself. 

Lily could hear the grunts from pain and effort coming out of James, she was not sure why he was going above and beyond for someone that he wasn’t as close with, even though she was grateful that he didn’t leave her in the middle of nowhere with a swollen ankle. 

It took longer than if he had gone alone to climb back to the path. They almost slipped back a couple of times but James managed to get them up safely. 

“We are closer to the viewing point than the hotel.” he explained as he sat Lily on one of the logs for a moment while his breath evened out. “We should wait there for the others, not sure if they’ll take this path or the one that goes around the beach.” he said, looking down the path hoping to see or hear something, but he didn’t.

When he turned around he could see Lily was still a little pale and shivering from the soreness and dampness of her clothes. “Here,” he said, offering his jacket.

The redhead looked at him and shook her head, “You’ll need it, the temperature is lowering.”

James chuckled, a bit uneven, “I’m carrying you around, I’m actually a bit hot.” he admitted looking her in the eyes, something he didn’t dare to do often. “Take the jacket, Evans, I’ll be warm enough I didn’t fall in the water.” 

Lily didn’t need too much persuasion, soon she was putting the jacket and getting the backpack on once more, before they parted towards the comet viewing place. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach a spot. It was exactly what was marked on the map the Professor gave them. 

James had prepared some blankets for them to sit on, he put one below them so they would not sit on the cold hard floor, and grabbed the second one to replace his jacket. Noticing Lily still shivering he sat behind her, allowing her back to be up to his chest. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, not putting too much of a fight, she was exhausted, in pain but she needed to admit that James’ warmer body behind hers felt nice. Even if the position was a little odd for two friends to be in. 

“Relax, we just have one blanket left, and your back is all wet. Don’t want you to catch a cold, but don’t want to catch my death either.” he mumbled behind her, reaching out for his bag, wincing a bit as he got a hold of it. 

“You got yourself hurt too, why didn’t you say anything?” she said holding his hand, examining his wrist, that looked swollen from a sprain and the effort to carry her. 

James blushed knowing exactly why he didn’t say anything, she would argue with him that they could both wait by the creek, but that would mean she would be colder and it would be almost impossible for them to be seen by the others. She would insist that they should both rest, or that he would go without her, and he would not have that. 

“I’m used to it, I get injured in Quidditch all the time. Don’t worry about it.”

“Of course I worry! I care about you, you bloody idiot, we could have come up with a different plan!” she could not believe he had been that careless, he could endanger his Quidditch career because of it. It wasn’t like they were in mortal peril, they could wait for morning, their grades were not that important, his well being was more important than that.

“You were going to suggest to leave you there, or to wait there while you get even wetter, colder and with less and less chance of us getting found by the group. And I was not going to risk you for a sprain that I’m sure Sirius will heal as soon as he gets here." There was no discussion to be had, she was not going to convince him to have left her behind, no amount of Quidditch and future prospects he had, a human life was more important. 

Lily tried to argue as she saw him taking a thermos out of the bag, she helped him with it since she knew he would be hurting even if he did not show it. “I still deserved to be told, I’m not a damsel in distress, I can think for myself, even come up with something other than staying behind. I don’t appreciate not having a say.” She opened the thermos and poured what seemed to be hot tea. 

James felt embarrassed, of course she should have had a say in all, but he was thinking on his feet more than dismissing her ideas. “Drink, it’ll do you good.” he added softly. 

“It’ll do you good as well, you must also be cold.” She gave him the cup and waited for him to drink to pour herself a cup. 

After they drank the tea they just stay there, next to each other, keeping the warmth of their bodies by proximity and hoping that sooner rather than later they would be found. 

After a while Lily murmured “Thanks,” back to James, “for not leaving me behind.” she added, for good measure, to which he replied “No need.”

Their bodies’ tiredness won over after they made themselves as comfortable as possible, and soon enough slumber took over, each other enjoying the safe company of the other. That is how the class found them: sound asleep, dirty, and hugging each other.

[rottenroyalebooks]

Love Drunk - 0.1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x older sister!Harrington reader

Also includes: Steve Harrington x sister!reader (siblings)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N Harrington left Hawkins as soon as she turned eighteen with her boyfriend to follow her dreams of being a Rockstar. Three years later, she returns to Hawkins alone and scarred. Now, she has to repair her broken relationship with her younger brother, all while trying to prevent herself from falling for a cute metal head who plays at the Hideout, where she works.

Warnings: None.

Next ->

Driving back to Hawkins, Indiana, was the last thing I thought I would do.

I wouldn't say I liked this hellhole and got away as soon as possible. I never wanted to see the all-too-familiar roads and trees filled with bad memories.

Why did I come back here if I hated this place so much? My life fell apart underneath my feet, and I had no choice.

The drive was long and taxing, but I had a caravan from the 60s that still worked beautifully, so I didn't have to stay in any motels. I left California with a few boxes of my possessions and my black and white Saint Bernard Baxter, and we hit the open road together. It was a long trip, but eventually, I pulled into the driveway of my family home, which was pitch black.

Being late into the night, I was not surprised that the house was dark. I pulled my van into the backyard so it wouldn't be seen by anyone who drove by. I turned my van off and climbed into the back of my caravan, grabbing my travel bag and waking Baxter up so he wouldn't be sleeping outside in the cold.

I tried the back door, but it was locked, so I had to grab the spare key that was always kept underneath my mother's favorite garden gnome. I scoffed, showing the key to Baxter, who tilted his head. "See? They're predictable."

Once I unlocked the door and returned the key to its hiding place, I crept into the kitchen slowly, with Baxter trailing behind me and lazily trudging around. I poked my head into the garage, seeing it bare of any cars, and scoffed, "Nobody's home? They're probably away on business again." I pulled myself back into the house and closed the door.

I started thinking about my little brother Steve. He must have been nineteen, probably off at some fancy university far away from this town. Good for him.

I found my way to my old bedroom, letting Baxter in with promises of bedtime, and closed the door behind me. The room had barely been touched, though my parents were never home enough to care about what had happened. My bed was a mess, my posters were still on the walls, my desk was nearly covered in junk, my old makeup lay on the dresser, and my records were still in a box I had put together.

Sighing happily, I put my backpack on a chair and watched as Baxter jumped onto my bed, making himself as comfortable as possible. I sat on the bed next to my nightstand, which held the phone I had begged my parents to put in for me. I picked it up, hearing the dial tone and beeping as I pressed one of the few numbers I had memorized.

I pressed the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing. Finally, after a few rings, there's a male voice coming from the receiver, "I swear to god, somebody better be dead if you have the bright idea of calling me at three in the fucking morning."

I held back a laugh, "Jim! Hey, it's Y/N,"

I could almost feel his mood lighten, "Y/N? I never thought I'd hear your voice again! How've you been, kid?"

"Could be better. it could be worse. I'm back in town wondering if the pub needs a bartender."

He hummed lightly, "Luckily for you, Paul retired two weeks ago, and I've been having trouble finding decent help. You got any experience bartending?"

I smiled, thankful that he didn't push my return further, "I was a bartender for three years. I kept my nights busy."

"Perfect, you're hired. Can I go back to bed now?"

Giggling, I nodded, knowing he couldn't see me, "Yes, yes, sorry for calling so late. Goodnight, Jim." I placed the phone in the receiver and began stretching, getting myself ready to sleep.

My peace didn't last very long as my door swung open, revealing none other than my little brother, who wasn't so little anymore, welding a baseball bat in his hands. I jumped slightly and held my hands up in surrender, "Whoa, whoa! Steve?"

He stared at me, his features melting into a look of surprise, "Y/N?" He kept the bat high up in the air.

The two of us spoke in unison, "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first, twerp."

He looked at me with an exasperated expression, "I'm literally the one with the bat."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest as the adrenaline died down, "I have an attack dog. Don't make me sick him on you."

He glanced behind me, looking at Baxter; smirking, he just looked back at me as he lowered the bat, "Oh yeah, he's an attack dog alright."

I looked over my shoulder and turned to look at Baxter, who laid there unbothered; passed out nearly dead to the world. If it weren't for the slow rise and fall of his upper body, I would have thought he was dead.

"I could be facing an actual murder right now, and you would just be blissfully aware until you woke up to see my dead body."

Steve sighed, "N/N, what happened?"

I turned back to him, "I'm back in Hawkins. Mom and Dad don't need to know. Hopefully, I'll find a place of my own soon. Trust me, you'll barely know I'm here."

He just stared at me, his expression unreadable as he contiplated my words. He grew a lot since I last saw him. His hair was shorter back then. He was shorter. He's no longer the scrawney kid I had to protect in my senior year, when he was merely a freshman.

I probably looked different, too, but in other ways.

"I should probably get some rest, I have an early shift." He awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, kid. We'll talk later,  I want to know everything I've missed." I smirked, grabbing the covers and pulling them over my legs, "Hit the lights on the way out?"

He chuckled lightly, nodding, "Yeah, goodnight, Melody." He baked out of the doorframe, flipping the lights off for me before closing the door, leaving me to stare up at the ceiling; which still had the glow in the dark stars on it.

Baxter rolled over a bit, cuddling into my side as we got comfortable in my bed.

[thegreenwallrabbit-blog]

Aunty B is an old woman for HER world

So I’d just like to point out to the people saying that Aunty B being 55 doesn’t make her an old lady. 1) while this is an alternative world it’s clearly modeled after early 1900s. The expected average life span for women in 1900 (US) was 48.3 years and in 1917(US) it was 54.0 years. Then in 1918 due to outbreaks like the Spanish Flu it dropped to 39.1 years. (Data from CDC https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data-visualization/mortality-trends/index.htm). And while these numbers are skewed by high infant mortality rates in the early 1900s the major cause of death for infants regardless of socioeconomics was disease as there were few effective medical treatments(for example penicillin wasn’t discovered until 1928). The other group of people at high risk of death due to illness other then infants are people over the age of 65 so even if people lived to be older then late 40’s or early 50’s one year with a bad influenza such as in 1918 could wipe out a large portion of the older population especially those in poorer socioeconomic positions who lived in the more densely populated but less maintained section of big cities. 2) She’s worked for Candela the longest and while we don’t know exactly how long that’s been it’s clear that working for them for any length of time puts a major toll on a person both mentally and physically. And I’m not sure how many years being in contact with Bleed affects a person but it’s probably compounding. That’s on top of whatever tramatic event she survived that lead her to coming into contact with Candela and Bleed in the first place. We don’t even know how many people are killed in their world each year by Bleed events.

3) Even if she didn’t fight in the war she did live through it and it’s their realms version of WW1 so you know more stress and trauma. 4) she’s clearly been living rough for a while. she may not be homeless but she did say that she has pawned off all her jewelry expect the ones with the most emotional value to her and her job label say that she is a criminal so she’s clearly had it rough outside of her work with Candela.

Point being that comparing and expecting her to be at the same health state to a modern 55 year old woman doesn’t work and so yeah while WE the audience might not view her as being old in her world; especially as a woman who is from the poorer class of society; that has worked with Candela the longest and so has possible had the most contact with Bleed of anyone in the group she would be considered an old woman. Which is why when you look at the official art of the character she looks more like a woman in her late 60’s or early 70’s rather then looking 55 due to the stress and hard life she has led.

[iamthekaijuking]

King’s Nightmarish Retail Experience

This post has been a long time coming because I know for a fact that suffering through retail makes for excellent stories and I have cosmically bad luck when it comes to dealing with people, so over the course of like 1 1/2 years I’ve just been stockpiling notes. I had been working with some people who had been working in pickup for five years and by the time I left I had three times more stories than they did. And now that I’ve quit over a month ago I can unleash this upon the world.

This post will only go over my experiences with customers and not people I worked with or how the store was ran. Most people in the store I worked at were either just normal people doing their jobs or the sweetest people you’ll ever meet, and very few people working in my store were actually jerks or gross. That’s actually how it is for most retail shops in general actually. Now I could say stuff about the few jerks (and I’d love to) but I’m not going to just as another way to eliminate any possibility of incriminating where it is I worked. Plus most of that frustration was directed at managers and corporate so you can probably guess why I’d be frustrated.

Also some of these stories are kinda gross so you know, warning. Although I did try and keep it classy.

General weird people in the store.

When I was out on the floor getting items for orders I observed a fair share of horrible and gross behavior. Things ranging from a guy sticking his hand in his pants to directly scratch his junk in public to a woman doing the same but with her chocolate starfish. Sometimes I even saw excellent parenting as well such as the time I saw a little kid pinching his dad, only for the dad to spin around and lift him up by the scruff of his shirt and say “Pinch me again and I’m breaking your neck in the parking lot”. Another time I saw a mom throw her umbrella at her toddlers face because he wasn’t listening to her. Excellent stuff.

This one is actually from one of my coworkers but years ago around the time The Last Jedi released a bunch of blue milk hit the shelves. My coworker was just getting items until a fat scruffy neckbeard guy barged up to her and yelled “Where’s your blue star wars milk?!”. If it happened to me I��d have to try really hard not to laugh at them.

I’ve also just had a customer just walk up to me and demand I clean up a carton of milk a child spilled even when I specified that I was a pickup worker, that wasn’t my job, and I didn’t have a phone to call anyone about it. I ended up having to ineffectively sponge it with paper towels while he watched with his hands on his hips for thirty seconds. Eventually someone came with a mop though.

I’ve had a woman pull me aside wanting me to help her text pictures of her pipes to her plumber. Like… no! I didn’t have time for that! You’d think she was a super old lady in her 80s or something but no she was like late 50s/early 60s! Old enough to know how a smartphone works!

Every customer from here on is memorable enough that I’ve given them their own section.

Memorial Day Farter

This one happened when I was out picking items for orders on Memorial Day.

A woman who, and I really have no other words to describe her, was a hamburger helper of a woman bent over in front of me to grab something and just bayblade let it rip directly on me. I have anosmia but I could tell it was a rancid congalala fart because I could taste it. I swear to god that the gust of intestinal wind that came out of her was powerful enough to blow my shirt back a bit.

And she didn’t even acknowledge it either! She just laboriously got back up and left!

I showered when I got home.

Cottage Cheese Lady

Once again I was out on the floor, this time in the dairy section.

I was grabbing stuff and my cart was parked in front of the cottage cheese. Off to my side an older lady was looking for something. English was not her first language cause she said “Where cottage cheese?” but she wasn’t facing me so I assumed she was taking to herself. But she kept repeating it louder and louder until she turned to me and yelled “WHERE COTTAGE CHEESE?!”. It took me a second to realize she had been talking to me the entire time and in that time she got right up in my face (or as close to it as a five foot person can to a 6ft 1 guy) and almost pinned me against the doors in the dairy section. And for some reason thrusted her chest out at me.

Now she was wearing some fancy v-neck jacket with a very deep v-neck and she was old. So she was thrusting some very unimpressive flabs at me while yelling “WHERE COTTAGE CHEESE”. Overwhelmed, I quickly slid out from in front of her and pushed my cart out of the way and pointed. She then arched her spine the opposite way like a hunchback in defeat and just said “oh…”.

“Bro”

This one also happened when I was out picking items. Occasionally when out picking customers would sometimes ask me where things are, and while I didn’t like it because we were timed on how fast we picked items for orders and the people in charge would get on our asses if we weren’t fast enough for them, I still answered customers if I could, sometimes even taking them to what they wanted if I had time or was in a good mood. Most of the time though people were right in front of what they were looking for and ended up looking like complete idiots.

That said, I didn’t know where everything was in the store. I’m not a robot. But you’d be surprised how downright pissy people get when you tell them you don’t know where something is. This guy is one of them.

So I was picking and a guy twenty feet away from me held his phone up and asked me “do you know where this is bro?”. Now I just want to take a second to describe this man. This guy who looked to be in his forties was in a tank top and had the torso of a really tall broad guy like me, but had limbs so short in skinny that he was only like 5 feet tall, so he had the proportions of a fuckin spore creature. I told him “sorry I don’t know where that is” because one I probably wouldn’t have, two I was strapped for time, and three I can’t see what’s on a phone twenty feet away from me.

This guy immediately raises his voice and yells “Oh so you don’t pay attention when you take stuff off the shelves bro?!”. I was just completely taken aback and a few people were looking at the scene this guy was making, so to get out of the sticky situation I pulled the ultimate get out of jail free card for dealing with customers: I told him it was my first day on the job even though I had been working for over one and a half years at that point.

Immediately this guy’s demeanor changed like a psycho and he started trying to be all cheerful and welcoming me to my new job. He even walked up to try and pat me on the back but I cringed away, and I think he got the message from that and left me alone.

Karen Video Tapes Me

This is the last one where I was out picking for orders.

So it was late in my shift, around 45 minutes before it ended, and I was with another person. It was a pretty good night so I decided that I’d pick for orders the next day just to get us a little bit ahead. So I’m out pushing my cart and getting items and as I turn into an aisle there’s this short old blond lady with a very fluffy expensive coat standing in the middle of the entrance to the aisle. No biggie though, I just maneuver around her and give her two feet of space. But as I pass her she turns to me in disbelief and says “you almost ran me over!” and I just kinda look at her confused and weirded out before continuing.

Now it could have just ended there with both of us thinking the other was weird and kinda rude but continuing on and probably not remembering each other the next day, but this woman was so incredibly personally offended by me. So later in my item wave I’m in the baking aisle bending down to grab something and I noticed out of the corner of my eye someone leaning into the entrance to the aisle and aiming their phone at me.

I got up and walked over and they shrank away, and as I turned the corner it was her! She had filmed me (without my consent which is illegal in my state) and was now scurrying like a fucking rodent towards the front of the store where one of the store managers was at.

I think “hell fucking no she’s not getting away with that” and I end my item wave and bring my cart back to my department to park it while calling who was in charge of the store at the time and explaining everything to her. She asked if the Karen was still in the store and I said I’d check. So I leave my department again to walk up front and see the lady walking up to the guy who oversees the self checkout and asking him to call a manager. I sauntered up with a smile on my face and told him “No no, this is about me. I’ll handle it.”

So I go towards the front office and find the store manager there and explain everything to him. He asks if the Karen is still there and I tell him yes and she wants to meet you, and I’ll take you to her. So I bring him over while making a show out of being polite to everyone around me and saying excuse me to customers in my way all while the lady is trying to burn holes through me with her eyes. I brought the store manager up to her and as he started talking to her I dipped out because my shift was over by then.

I don’t actually know what happened after that but judging by the fact that I heard nothing about it the next day I assume I didn’t get into any trouble and the lady got to die mad about it.

Public Pisser

Every story from now on happened while I was in my department “running desk”, which means I was taking out orders to people in the little pickup parking lot.

This story is also the first weird customer interaction I had.

So I was just watching the camera feed waiting for people to come get their orders when a white SUV pulls up right beside the door we used to go in and out. A guy stepped out of the car but stayed behind his car door so I couldn’t really see him on the camera. He just kinda stood there for a bit and I was starting to wonder what he was doing, so I walked up to the door and flip up a little flap that lets me see through a small window…

And he was pissing.

He was pissing in public on the door. And I saw everything, including how painfully average he was below the belt.

So I knocked on the door to get his attention and his head snapped up to look me in the eyes. I just slowly nodded my head “no” while he started cussing at me, and then I just stepped away from the door and kinda let him get away with it because I was done with the interaction.

Tornado Lady

This one is short and just kinda shows how skewed the priorities of some people can be.

This happened during a tornado that was passing by, and the wind was going crazy and it was raining bullets. At the time the incident happened everyone in the store was in the tornado shelter areas and even the people who had come for their orders moved to park in front of the store to get to safety. All except for one car.

About ten minutes into waiting for the tornado to pass we get a call on our department phone (because people could call us to say they were there although we preferred if people used the app) and it’s an old lady who yells this.

“Um hello?! My husband has been waiting for his order for fifteen minutes! What’s the hold up?!”

My only response I could muster was “Ma’am there is A TORNADO OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW YOUR HUSBAND NEEDS TO GET TO SAFETY.” and she hung up.

The car with the hubby inside didn’t move but luckily the storm didn’t last much longer afterwards and things could continue as normal. In contrast to his wife the man was actually very kind and understanding.

Unactivated Credit Card

So something to note about how pickup worked, at least where I was employed, was that when a customer signed in we had to scan and assemble all the items in their order that we stored after picking, and then process the payment. Sometimes the payment could fail for a variety of reasons though. Like if the customer didn’t have enough money, or their card was locked, or they used a third party payment like PayPal, or their order was so expensive that their bank locks their card to prevent fraud (frustratingly common). When that happened the person running desk had to print off a bunch of paperwork, go out and get the customer’s card, then go halfway across the building to the self checkout to manually pay for the order there. It was an incredibly infuriating process that brought everything to a halt (even while we were still being timed).

One time though a lady’s order failed and I just spent a half hour going back and forth trying to get her card to work all while she kept getting angrier at me. She even accused me of running her card through the scanner wrong, which… there’s only one way to do it so that’s impossible. Eventually she called her bank in a fit and it turns out her card, which was brand new, wasn’t even activated. So she just flipped me off and sped off.

Mulch Lady

So this one took place when a deal was going on at the store. Multiple stores in the chain were having a deal with mulch where if you bought ten you’d get them for ten dollars. However, there was a glitch in pickup where you could instead get ten for five dollars. Management had actually called us to tell us about this and that if people place orders for mulch we’ll have to call the customer and explain to them they will have to pay full price or we will have to cancel the order.

Now a woman tried to place five orders of ten packs of mulch. So I had to call her and explain why if she wanted the mulch she’d have to pay double what the glitch was telling her. Immediately she gets all pissy and throws a fit and tells me that I have to “respect the wishes of the customer”. So when that conversation was over I had to call a store manager about it.

Basically we had to get the mulch ready and she needed to come inside to talk to him about the deal and get stuff sorted out. So that was frustrating because my department had to get 50 packs of mulch, which was so much that we had to borrow a special large trolley from another department. My conversation with the mulch lady went more or less the same as it did before except for one key difference.

She mentioned that her friends did the same thing at a different store the day before so she was extra angry that she couldn’t do the same. And that’s when I realized, the only reason management caught the glitch in the first place is because of her friends and she was trying to pull the same shit they did! Anyways she came for her mulch and went to talk to the store manager about it, and the conversation went in circles because she kept saying “I don’t understand” to everything. Not because she actually couldn’t comprehend anything, but because she didn’t like the answer she was getting and was trying to bait out a different one. She eventually relented though and settled on only taking half the mulch she ordered, which was annoying since I had to remove some from the giant pile of 50 ten pound bags.

So as I’m taking out all the bags on the large trolly I get to the door and suddenly the trolley stops. I took a look and realized the trolley was barely wider than the doorframe and because of the weight it was now wedged in the door and I couldn’t get it out. So I basically had to climb the mountain of mulch to get to the other side and start unloading it into the lady’s van to get rid of the excess weight and dislodge the trolley. It worked but it was really annoying.

Also Mulch Lady didn’t learn her lesson because she tried the same shit the next day.

Taking Offense to a Thanks

This one still makes me mad.

So with how pickup works a customer is supposed to use the app to say they’re on their way and then when they arrive they say they’re here. The idea is to give us a heads up so we can partly prepare an order ahead of time so that when the customer arrives they don’t wait as long and we can beat the timer (because we were timed).

But the longer I stayed at the place the less and less customers did this and it got to a point where only about 1/5th of customers were telling us they were on their way. So eventually I started politely asking customers to let us know when they’re coming, and it was working somewhat until this guy.

Let’s call him Brick. So one day Brick came without letting us know he was on his way and he had a huge order, so big in fact that another coworker went out to help me load it onto his truck (he never helped of course). When we finished I did my usual “You’re all set, have a good day” routine and politely asked him to let us know when he’s on his way. As I turned around and went inside Brick pulled my coworker to the side to complain to her and demand why he had to do that. Even when she politely explained he still threw a fit before driving off, and I later learned that Brick complained to corporate.

A week later when I served him again he actually did use the app to say he was on his way, so I very politely thanked him for doing that and said that because fewer people were notifying us things were getting harder and so I appreciated that small thing. Apparently my thanks just broke Brick because he complained to corporate again but this time said just about every bad thing you could say about an employee short of assault and sexual harassment, so I got written up for it.

I refused to serve Brick again, because he just had it out for me and kept asking my coworkers where I was and kept saying that he wanted a word with me.

Now this story might have a happy ending because it turns out that Brick owns a construction company around where I live and I’m currently trying to figure out how my family and I can review bomb his business without getting sued for defamation.

Nasty Man

Some customers really don’t care to not look like total slobs in front of others or try and have some public decency. One interaction sticks out to me and I’m going to call this guy Cory because he looked like Armenian Cory but somehow even more swollen.

I took his order out to him and he got out of his car to help (which honestly good on him I appreciated that). But he was greasy and his shirt was like three sizes too small and his pants were too big and about to fall down. Cory also wasn’t wearing underwear and I learned that the hard way when he bent over when facing away from me and bared his whole ass. I also unfortunately noticed his fly was down and I could see his uhh… small earthworm.

It was a very uncomfortable situation and I couldn’t tell him to pull his pants up because he could report me and I’d get in trouble! So I had to grin and bear it while this idiot was getting his groceries with his dick out.

Happy Birthday!

This is another customer who had zero shame.

This happened last year on my birthday/national Godzilla Day. It was night and I was doing a later shift and a guy in a truck pulled up and signed in. Things went pretty normally and I took his order out to him. Now I was going to put it in his trunk because that’s usually where customers want their groceries, but this guy said he wanted his stuff in the passenger seat.

I was like “Okay” because that’s not really a big deal, so I opened the door and started unloading his groceries and I noticed he was watching his phone. Now the phone was mostly turned away from me but I could see just a sliver of the screen, enough to make out what he was watching. And he was watching…

Porn

He was watching porn right in front of me while I was giving him his groceries.

Absolutely shameless.

He tried to turn the phone away from me more but I already saw. I basically hurried up with giving him his stuff and rushed back inside. Now I expected him to leave after that… but then his truck started shaking. I eventually called the store manager and we were about to send security out before he finished and drove off. I think he knew I saw because he never came back.

The Time I Was Actually Almost Mugged or Trafficked

I’ve actually talked about this one in the past here before but I’ll just rehash it here, and unlike all the other stories where it’s just about Karens and idiots and gross slobs, this one is actually scary.

So it was late at night and I was covering for my underage coworker so she could take a lunch break. A black SUV slowly pulled up to park and takes up 2 parking spots, and then a woman got out of her car and kinda stumbled over to the signs in front of the pickup parking spots.

I assumed she's drunk and can't sign into the app and is looking at the signs for the number to call us and say she's here. But then she walked up to the pickup door and knocked, and was keeping her face away from the camera the whole time. I grew incredibly suspicious because customers aren't supposed to come up to the door for security reasons, and she's keeping her face turned away from the camera the whole time. So I slinked up to the door and quietly flipped the metal plate to peek out the window.

Her back is still to the door.

I slink back to the curbside front desk and keep my eyes on the camera. After awhile she stumbles back to her car and then calls. I proceeded as normal and get her name, but as I was looking I noticed that her name isn't on the list for the day. I think "okay maybe she's drunk and her order is for tomorrow". I looked all the way up into a week ahead of time. Her name was not on the order list. I told her this and asked if her order was under a different name. She said "Well I used my son's card for the order so maybe it's under that, but his last name is the same."

Btw I could barely understand her and I had to ask her to repeat herself a few times.

I asked what it is she ordered. She said sketchers. I looked for some shoes. We didn’t have any back in pickup for any orders. I told her this and before I could tell her she might be at the wrong store she hangs up. And stayed there for almost ten minutes.

2 customers pulled up and signed in for their orders and I think “okay I’m not going out alone”. So I called the head of the store and she sent a team lead and what I assume was security back there. As I’m explaining to them the situation my coworker gets back from break. So I come up with a plan: we all go out at the same time and my coworker and I give the orders to the customers while the two guys talk to her and see what’s up.

But as they approached her car she sped off.

They're weirded out too and gave me the number for security in case she came back. And for the rest of my shift I did not let my 16 year old coworker take out orders, and when I left I urged her to call security if anything vaguely weird happened.

Now this exact situation could have gone so much worse. What these people like that do is get a woman in on the whole thing drunk and drive them to a pickup parking lot at night. The reason she’s drunk is to make her seem defenseless and to lower the guard of the employees, but she also hid her face from the camera to make it harder to link her to a crime. Everything she did was to get someone to come out to the car where more people hiding in the back of the vehicle would come out to mug the employee, or if they’re underage girls, potentially kidnap them.

This exact scenario has played out before around where I live and I am so glad that my cautious nature picked up on what was going on.

The Worst Customer

I’ve painted a pretty good picture of some pretty terrible people, but this woman is in a league of her own. To give a sense of how awful she was, she is the only customer I’ve ever had who purposely caused me physical harm. I’m going to call her Slattern, because that is the nicest thing I could call her.

She was a regular to the store, but she never did anything to meet us halfway and was so incredibly short fused and rude that half of the people in my department dreaded serving Slattern. So full of anger was she that she could barely keep herself from throwing a fit when we so much as asked her name when we brought her order out to double check that it was hers.

The one time Slattern hurt me was during winter where I guess she was having a bad day or something. As I was leaning into the back of her SUV to put the groceries in I saw her hand fly up and press the button on her rear view mirror that closed the trunk, and it slammed down on my head. The metal edge of it hit me and the only reason I wasn’t cut and bleeding is because I had a jacket over my head, and that jacket got a cut in it afterwards. I almost fell over onto the ice covered asphalt because of how much pain I was in. Her teenage son actually showed concern for me and was asking if I was okay, but when I looked at Slattern’s face through the rear view mirror all I saw was her looking at me with this smug satisfied smirk.

This woman was genuine evil and had some of the worst tantrums the store I worked at ever saw on the few occasions she stormed up to the front to argue with a store manager. Even they thought Slattern was “a complete bitch”, and even her son tried to get her to stop a few times. I quit before I ever saw the end to the Slattern Saga, but I’m certain she’s banned from the store by now. I would have absolutely pressed charges but unfortunately the trunk thing was very easy to write off as an accident.

The Angry Cloudstrike Man

This one happened during the cloudstrike fiasco if you remember when half the internet imploded awhile ago.

During this time working retail was possibly the worst it had ever been, without a properly functioning network we were borderline incapable of doing our jobs but corporate wanted us to anyways. We had to treat every order like a failed order and this resulted in long wait times that made everyone very angry for at least a two days until everyone realized why nothing was working. But there was one older customer who just never got the memo and was just constantly a complete asshole.

Every time he’d get mad at us for our system not working and act like he expected us to magically fix it, and was just so mean and yelled at everyone who served him no matter how many times we politely explained things to him and offered gift cards as compensation. Every time he’d also say he’d complain to corporate on their website and never come back again… but then be back the next day for several days straight. So definitely not a man of his word which was kinda funny.

He was so rude to us so consistently that I was able to get the higher ups to get off their asses for once and begin the process of banning him from the store.

It eventually came to a head one day where he placed an order but we never received it (because again, cloudstrike) and yelled at a coworker who had to go out and explain it to him. When she came back inside he called our front desk and I answered.

Again, I explained to him what happened and that we had no power to fix it, but he refused to listen and the conversation went in circles. It eventually got to the point where he was wasting so much of my time and I was getting so sick of his shit that I realized “okay corporate already knows this guy is an asshole and he’s already getting banned from the store and he already probably spews bullshit when he complains to corporate” and just went mask off.

I personally shrink away from confrontation so this is very uncharacteristic of me, but I just started full blown arguing with him and trying to make him as angry as possible. I didn’t hurl any obscenities but it was clear I was just stirring shit, and oh my god it was euphoric. If you’ve never worked retail you will never know the feeling of having a job where you simultaneously keep the gears of society turning while being treated like the shit stuck on someone’s shoe, and just unleashing that frustration on someone who deserves it. The only way that moment could have been even better is if I could reach through the phone and strangle the guy like Bart Simpson.

I wanted to end on a happy note. That’s about it for the retail stories.

[genderkoolaid]

I recently listened to the Jules Gill-Peterson episode of Gender Reveal. In it, she argues that the histories of transmasc and transfem people are essentially disconnected until the 80s or so, in part because transmascs migrated to rural areas and went stealth, whereas transfems moved to cities like New York and San Francisco and formed communities. (This brief summary does not do her justice, please read the transcript or listen before responding.) What do you think of her argument? Do you have any historical records that confirm, refute, or complicate it?

So generally I agree with her. Obviously this is specifically about US history, but I agree that transmascs historically have sought isolation to stay stealth where transfems have formed a lot of communities (although thats not to say there havent also been stealth transfems in history). She does bring up transmasculinity in lesbian spaces although its very brief. I kind of wish she focused on it more because I feel like acting as though trans men who lived in stealth isolation from other queers is The transmasc historical narrative erases a lot of the complex ways transmascs lived, and lesbian spaces have always been a MAJOR part of that. Drag masculinity was one way historical transmascs could engage in transmasculinity, and also took place largely in cities & drag kings absolutely interacted with drag queens, so I don't think there wasn't any places where historical transmascs & transfems shared spaces. But she's also a transfem and it makes sense that her focus is more on transfem history & its intricacies.

Honestly I think that the idea that transmascs going stealth vs transfems finding community isn't the interesting thing here. That's whatever. What's more interesting in my opinion is the questions of

Chicken or the egg (ha): do transmascs go stealth instead of forming communities because there were no communities and therefore no awareness that others existed, or was there no community because everyone went stealth?

What is the origin of this difference between transmascs and transfems? What factors influence the difference in our histories?

Listening to modern non-western transmascs talk, I've gotten the idea that part of this comes from how women in patriarchal societies have more restrictions, and often aren't allowed to go out on their own, which limits their ability to find queer spaces and connect with other transmascs. I think there might also be something to be said about the idea that cis society may tend to react to transfems with "you should be cast out" and transmascs as "you should be fixed", but that's just an idea + it's definitely not black-and-white.

Going back to the first question, I'm inclined to believe that they lack of community/awareness came first: I think part of the reason for so many trans men going stealth is because many of them weren't aware other trans men existed, so they had a mindset of "I have to find a way to survive without being outed", whereas transfems knew other transfems existed and so their first step was "find other people like me". I imagine that's also the reason for the difference between stealth trans men and lesbian trans men: maybe people who weren't aware of lesbian spaces were more likely to go stealth, and people who were aware of lesbian spaces joined them for the same reason transfems sought out other transfems. See this quote from a Korean trans man:

"[T]here is nobody that we can really call “older generation.” In Korea FTM identification and transition only began when they learned that such a thing was possible. Before they felt like they didn’t belong in their bodies. The lack of words made it impossible for them to understand what that feeling meant. FTM trans people that are older than me, those in their 40-60s, understood their situation late. Most of them had lived their lives as lesbians until the 1990s. When the Internet started providing information, only after this began, they understood who they were and started treatment."

That's also why the transmasc community only really started after transmascs started getting widespread attention (coinciding with the rise of the Internet as well), because suddenly younger transmascs weren't either becoming butches or going stealth- they knew others existed and wanted to find them. (As a side note: I got the idea for a historical fiction story exploring the idea of some kind of "transmasc secret society", because I'm sure there was some point in history where at least a few guys found each other).

I think its important to ask these questions lest we fall into the trap of "transmascs just love their male privilege and want to preserve it and have never done anything for the trans community, unlike transfems, who are the real trans people". That ignores how transandrophobia has shaped the behavior of transmascs.

I do have another criticism: maybe she's doing this on purpose, but I feel like its extremely oversimplifying the history of how people treated crossdressing women to say that it was seen as just a cool thing. There was definitely a different attitude to the idea of women crossdressing for survival, but (and this might be kind of nit-picky but its something that gets on my nerves so humor me):

If you weren't crossdressing for survival, that was a problem. I am of the opinion that a good amount of women/"women" who would make this argument when they got caught crossdressing were doing so because "'I'm doing it to survive!" would probably get you some sympathy, but "I'm doing this cause I like it!" would get you. you know. jailed for crossdressing & labeled an invert. And there is an expectation there that, if you no longer need to do that to survive, you would stop doing it, and to insist on continuing to do that would, again, get you labeled an invert.

I just in general really really dislike hearing people say "well the patriarchy wants everyone to be a man" because No It Does Not. its similar to that post that goes "bi women are told they should be lesbians and lesbians are told they should be bi but the actual goal is for there to be no queer women at all". Cis women might be told they would be worth more if they were men, but thats another case of generalized "man" being used to erase cisness. Cis women need to be cis women (and therefore wives & mothers), thats why women/"women" are so heavily controlled. You may have cases of "father wanted a boy so he makes his daughter live as a son" but that has always been seen as abnormal or even cruel. The idea of invert women and women who crossdress as man because of their ~evil sinful desires~ is not new (One scientist estimated "that one woman in every 3,000 is the victim of this strange mania")

I think crossdressing women historically were reported on with a sense of awe partially because I think a lot of people didn't realize how easy it is to pass and so the idea of a man being secretly a woman, or vice versa, was something unbelievable (a lot of old news articles about these people I've read spent a lot of time focusing on how no one could tell and being shocked at them voting & marrying women). Also because a lot of them were only outed in death so there wasn't a living person to confront or arrest. But I think we should hesitate to take news reports that saw them as some interesting headline to mean "people thought they were cool and treated them well" (especially in situations where we only have stuff like headlines & we may not know exactly how people felt about the person). Looking through my hoard of historical trans men resources, you have stories like Augustus Baudouin, a 17 year old who was outed after being put in prison for robbery. After being placed in the women's ward, his "repugnance to appear in women's attire" was so great that he hung himself. Even if the headline called him "extraordinary", being outed ended with him dead (in a way that grimly mirrors transmasc suicide deaths today). Christine Vensettie was also arrested so he could be forced to get "treatment" for his crossdressing. Edward De Lacy Evans's story shows a bit of what "treatment" can mean (namely, medical abuse & sexual assault) and was literally put in a freak show.

This isn't to say that the violence and repulsion Western society has long held towards transfems isn't bad or anything, just that I feel like portraying the history of society's reaction to female crossdressers like this ignores a lot of complexity. Also "the patriarchy wants women to be men" is like the #1 TERF belief when it comes to trans men, so I'm always on edge whenever anyone says it or something like it because it contributes to the belief that society really is trying to influence young girls to transition. I think people, when talking about passing trans men, always focus a lot on what happens when we pass and talk far less about the consequences when we don't.

Anyways this got much longer than I initially planned lmao. In general I agree with her, she obviously knows a lot and I'm also sure this was just a snippet of her beliefs on this topic. In my opinion one of the big questions about transmasculinity to work through is that of our history, because its so easy to compare it to transfems and see how little there is in comparison. And I think, besides just wanting to know more about our history, its important to investigate this to understand more about how transandrophobia works. Erasure is one of the biggest parts of transandrophobia and exploring why our existence has been erased in the past, and how that erasure has impacted our lives, will help us fight erasure today and in the future. So I hope to see more people going past just "transmascs tended to go stealth" and examine the factors which influenced this & why, across the world, transmascs tend to be erased and isolated while transfems tend to have communities and specific terms.

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 9

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic

A/N: so sorry for the long delay, was a bit overwhelmed irl and needed a break from writing, and this chapter its the longest on the fic and editing it was a difficult. thank you so much for reading Hope y'all like it and warning this is a long chapter fr fr-- prev. chapter here:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance, child murder mention, murder mention.

Chapter Nine

Tally

A field trip to the museum of natural history was scheduled for the day and to your daughter's unsurprised annoyance– here was her father riding the school bus too… 

Homelander had made a surprising decision.

This was his way to win you both, putting himself more and more present in your lives as gently as he could muster, suddenly taking special interest in her schooling, as this was important to you both– more than you had anticipated, he would have. 

Joining the PTA board, not even making an immediate fuss on the injustice of not being worshiped on sight, acting maturely even if slightly jaded about not being handed the head of the table upon blessing them with his presence– but there he was helping out when asked by the other members with fundraisers and other volunteer works if possible. 

He would come and watch them do their homework-- one while at work and the other at his home, coming over every night to tuck her in, for Ryan went to bed at 9 like a good kid and Helena did not turn sleepy ‘til midnight, flying to school almost everyday to make sure both children were still present, and to pick up Ryan. 

Wishing he could take her too but strong enough to accept he couldn't just yet… his many enemies and detractors a source of constant concern in your mind, so even if it hurt, Homelander knew it was the safest thing he could do for now, the simplest thing to ease your worries for the time being.

 Helena was more concerned about how such a busy man had enough time to spare just to stop-by to make sure his kids entered the right car, how he had time to follow the driver to make sure he took the fastest route and that his behavior was proper– poor time management skills and a small battalion of distressed assistants, she thought.

It killed him, it killed him to play a stranger towards her, wishing he could do more than wave good morning and good afternoon, finding himself being stared at by the other caregivers as he gawked at his daughter for too long while she waited for her driver or as she was dropped off by you or her driver in the morning, as you no longer let her walk to school. The girl did a better job at pretending not to know him, offering flat smiles at best while he tried to keep his expression blank.

You couldn’t deny he was trying so dearly to be there.

He found it irritating how easy it was for Helena to talk to the driver than it was to talk to her own father, embitter at the lightness in her voice. The two filling the space with discussions about growing up in the eastern bloc, about how the 60+ year old had worked as a taxi driver for over 20 years before turning to the private sector because the hours were better, about coming to the country in his late teens, fascinated about how his father had raised 2 kids then his 2 nephews after the death of his sister, about how he worked in the sanitation department until he was 80 years old– she spoke with ease to the older man, while stiff and impersonal with him, perpetually cautious around him. Homelander would’ve replaced him on the spot had he not had the itchy feeling that she would get angry at him for it.

The two could discuss work with ease at least– she was quick to unravel office politics and their thousands unspoken rules, coming to understand how Vought's hierarchy was more than just letters outside of doors, and salaries, quite easily.

Engrossed by the bizarre world of Superhero shenanigans, eager to learn what it took to manage the powered and unruly, what it really took to make a Supe, and the spoken human cost that kept the light on… it was all required reading in order to understand how the business was– these people were ultimately vapid and dangerous. A-Train was still a soft spot for her (she was okay with making exception after all everybody did the same) they discussed movie deals and product branding with more spit than it took discussing actual hero work, saving people and doing good was not even secondary to their priorities, while others in the same building discussed murders and other colorful cover-ups made by her fellow brethren over the water cooler. At first The Seven had been opposed to her presence… silently of course, to have a stranger moseying around their territory was unnerving much less a child… but once it became common knowledge that the little would-be tyrant was not a normal child they had turned far more self-conscious, but all it had taken was one look from Homelander daring them voice their discomforts for all of them to shower her with pleasantries and complements, for all of them to act as if she wasn't in the room.

Helena was quick to note how much of a fooney her father was-- faking and selling niceties with believable charm as if this was his normal behavior in their meetings, it was beyond obvious in the unsaid way everybody was fearful of his bite that he was just acting for her sake, confusing the lot, making them wonder why he did such a thing to impress a precocious stranger– Helena could see him squirming in his seat, squeezing his fists, desperate to lash out whenever The Seven irritated him. 

As long as she sat in the room he denied his true nature, she took note of it… curious as to how catastrophic it would be once he reached boiling point, wanting to know if she could push his buttons even further out of morbid curiosity.

The group theorized what truly motivated his behavioral changes, some believed the online whispers of netizens, while others had a more insipid suspicions, thankful that in the long list of abilities he had did not include telepathy– regardless it was nice to not be murdered on the spot for their misdemeanors.

She thought it would’ve been easy if he just spilled the beans but at this point both yours and Homelander’s relationship status had been kept under wraps– the board and Ashley had been the only ones informed. A matter of strategic release, it seemed.

Coming headfirst and dropping the news was considered but the spectacle that came from Homelander’s reveal of Ryan had been grating and a nightmare for the company-- but as the writing team worked their magic, the revelation was woven into a dramatic narrative, feeding scraps and crumbs to the curious masses just to kept the conversation, Ryan had been kept safe from netizens during the trail days, the internet speculated without permission about Homelander's personal life and his son– but now they were invited to do so for you and by extension Helena.

It had all begun from a paparazzi scoop, a staged candid photo showing Homelander in civvie cosplay and you his blushing partner staring at each other romantically, then the money shot of you two kissing in pretend secrecy.

The public went wild with it, for years Homelander’s many relationships were a source of entertainment so this was just another thing for consumption, many tried to learn  about you, the first images just grainy and purposefully angled poorly to kept your partially obscured, with each week after the original release more and more images began circulating… culminating in Homelander’s own social media account announcing his shocking engagement to a young New York chef.

It was all the news could talk about, and now Helena had to bear the public’s sudden interest.

People wanted to know all the details, to know all there was to know about you, your unmarketable story had been handled by Vought making you feel safe but that had been a nightmare on its own, but that was for later…

It would’ve been easy if she at least had Elmo to confide with, if Helena had anybody but her driver and her lab assistant to talk to.

But there she was forever in the confines of her mind, lost in books, and playing chess at school and chess-rooms.

Homelander had noted how quiet she’d become, more than usual… spying from a distance witnessing his daughter’s loneliness and unable to help– At school she was a loner, expected from a child that stood out too much, a child with poor socialization skills and her abrasive personality it wasn't surprising, spending her lunchest alone and break times in the library or the music room honing her skills instead of socializing, on the occasion she could converse with one of the older kids in her music class, bringing a smile to his face… sounding so much like a girl as the older kid taught her a piece– she wasn’t like Ryan who had come out of his shell, making a small group of buddies and acquaintances with ease but Helena hadn’t had any luck. John knew from you, that she had always been like that, with time she would find somebody, that he should be patient, for Helena was resilient… but he couldn’t bear to look at it.

And he knew just what to do.

Sven Cripple wasn’t what he expected– Just another schmuck in marketing that liked to dress in casual clothes to stand out in the office, thinking of Nigel, this man certainly seemed misplaced on the other’s side. He was lanky and tall, his pale blonde hair natural and his nose protruding… it was the tattoos and piercings that looked out of place next to that new money prude. The man gave him an ill-conceived stern look, before washing it with fake friendliness.

“How can I help you Homelander?” He said, looking as his team hurried out of the room.

“Just wanted to come down for a chat… how’s little Elmo doing? Haven’t seen him in daycare for a while.”

“We decided to take Elmo out for the time being–

“Just because my daughter is around” He cut him– that’s a bit cruel.”

“With all due respect sir… your daughter tried to kill my son,” he said with a snap.

“You mean: tried to make him better by increasing his chances of success in this industry.” Homelander tried to remain friendly– I’ve heard that Elmo's health hasn’t deteriorated in the least, and has gotten quite good with his new found powers.”

“Yes, he is doing well. Thank you for your concern, sir.” He took his laptop from the table– is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, bring Elmo back to daycare” Homelander dug into his belt pulling out a pamphlet from Helena’s school– "Is a great school, Elmo would surely thrive there.”

Sven dare not take the piece of paper, feeling nervous as Homelander stares down at him from beneath.

The man took a deep breath wanting nothing but to end the conversation and head back to work.

“Thank you but we like Elmo’s school and we aren’t–

“You live in Chinatown don’t you? Forsyth street, right? Lovely apartment, great price for a three bedroom in this city, decent enough to house that yappy little doodle-mix… so cute! Love your decour who doesn't love mid-century modern… and surprisingly quiet streets plus you’re near an okay school at walking distance and for that price– what a bargain! I’m so jealous” He spoke so smoothly, licking his teeth as he took a step forward– now… just between us. Man to Man… concerned father to concerned dad…” He took the man by the chin cupping his face to force him to watch him straight in the eyes– you’re going to get your store bought misborn brat, and you are going to bring him back to daycare. You’re going to enroll him into this school, and let him and Helena be best friends forever or I’m going to make you eat him. I’ll sit you down and your fucking husband and serve him to you in a platter with so much ssamjang you would lick your fingers from how delicious it was! And then I’ll kill your husband and your yappy little gay dog before you’re framed for their murders.” He says with a smile.

Sven felt his bladder almost empty as the red lights burned so hot, his eyes had turned dry and his lips chapped from the heat radiating from him.

“Now you can go and tell anybody about what I just said, and try to get me in trouble but just so you know… I’m so fast and little kids don’t run that well…. even flying ones; Or you could do as I say and we can pretend to be buddies, right champ?” He gave the man’s cheek a light tap as he turned the lights off– I think Helena and Elmo would make a great team… does he miss her? Don’t lie to me.”

“He’s been upset lately.” he whispers.

Homelander squints but it's pleased at the man’s meek demeanor.

“I know sometimes we parents have to make hard decisions but think about it… it's what you and Nigel always wanted… for him to be famous… under my wing he'll achieve more than any other Supe could, I have this grand vision and I know without him Helena won’t like it… it would benefit him regardless.”

“That's not what–

“You gave him V! Don't act so sanctimonious why else would you if it wasn’t for personal gain!? To make sure he never got a cold!? Please save it… maybe not you… maybe Nigel, but you gave him compound V for a reason. So don’t squander your investment. You are just another greedy wannabe trophy parent.” He spat on his shoe– I expect to see the kid by next week at the latest, förstått?” 

Sven crumbled behind him, making music for Homelander’s ears as the man realized just who Homelander truly was, knowing full well that there was nobody in this building that he could turn to, too afraid to find out what would transpire dare he tried to run.

By next week he could barely contain his smug satisfaction as he saw the kid return– he had done something you couldn’t with such ease, whereas you try talking to Nigel, try to build a connection via apologies that the man hadn’t care for after giving him space… he had given your child his friend back.

While there was no dramatic run towards each other, there was that sweet little smile on her face as they both sat together to draw.

By next month he would join her in school… admittedly Homelander did forget that the kid was in the 2nd grade but even with the distance, they still found ways to see each other… After all, a kid sneaking out of class didn’t stand out if she looked like any other grade schooler.

It was something… it was more than he ever had… he would’ve killed to have at least one more person with him in that room, one he could actually touch… he wanted to give her everything he could but for the first time he shared some of your grief.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Helena ceased to move her fingers from the keys, instead of attending study sessions she had wandered off to one of the music rooms, the teachers well aware and unconcerned.

“Shouldn’t you be in study hall or the library?”

“I like it here.” She turns slightly to face him– you didn't answer my question.”

“I was in the area and decided to come by and say hi.”

“This isn’t your territory and that’s not allowed.” she says firmly.

 “Saw that Elmo started attending school– Mr. Radmilo told me he saw you talking to a kid yesterday evening… a boy that sounded a lot like Elmo.”

Helena chortled mightily amused by his poor performance, before she could say a thing he sat by her side placing a couple fingers making a tune with his fingers, she was tempted to follow him and test if he had any skills.

“That was your doing wasn’t it? Mom wasn’t making any strides in that department… What did you do?”

“I am The Homelander and their boss… would you tell me no, if you were them?”

Helena could only imagine what he would do to strangers he didn’t care about, compared to what he had done to you… he might’ve been worse. She leaned against him playing a couple keys just to play along– it was awful to admit but she was glad, she was glad her friend was back, glad that her lunchest wouldn’t be so lonely, that at least she could sneak out to the playground and hang out with him, that she had somebody to talk to.

“Thank you… do you play?”

“Noir used to play… I would stop by his apartment and he would play for me from time to time… I was taught a couple tunes but it was never for me… I miss it… listening to him.”

“He doesn’t play anymore?”

“That’s just a guy being paid to wear his suit… kept the brand– That’s not my Noir… so anyways… I was thinking you and I can ditch school for the day and hang out before we come back to pick up, Ryan.”

Her eyes opened wide, smirking at the suggestion.

“Asking me to ditch school… that’s not a good thing to encourage…”

“Are you going to fall behind if you do?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer, playing with her hair.

“Nope!” She did like the feeling of being pet, it was nice, his hands bigger than yours, feeling so small under his glove and wishing it wasn’t there at all– where are we going?”

“I wanted to show you one of my favorite places in the world.” He said with a glimmer in his eyes– I think you’ll love it!”

She nodded and pushed herself free, letting him drag her out of the school while everybody was bored in class, he tucked her firmly in his arms holding her head against his chest as he took flight.

How could anybody ever get used to this sinking feeling in the gut that comes from the rapid ascent, the way her ears close shut and the taste of blood flooded into her mouth, how did a normal human withstand this when her body was above average yet still struggled, she squeezed his body the best she could, unable to speak or breath. Her mind works fast, knowing this would be risky but she builds a small bubble, gasping as everything around her cranium suddenly feels back at home.

Inside her bubble nothing moves, the air it's still but clear, below the neck it was left to god.

Homelander looked down catching those frightened little hands clutching at him, he slowed down so quickly he made himself queasy, flying was no different from breathing or sleeping to him, he looked down hoping she hadn’t lost consciousness, his throat closing on itself as she took a second to look up shivering in his arms, he squeezed her tight and began his descent, still a couple hundred miles from his destination. 

The ground felt otherworldly as he landed with a soft thud under his boot.

“Am so sorry…” He choked, his body matching hers as he collapses placing her down to check for her wounds, tears welling up making it hard to see.

“Too fast… Too fast” She muttered, trying not to cry as she watched him do the same– okay… that was mach 2?”

He nodded frantically, eyes flooding as he found nothing wrong with her organs.

“Let’s try mach 1… or turtle… do I have any organ failure? I don’t fe-fe-feel I do.” She said as she squatted on the ground making sure to feel the grass on her hands– let’s do that again.”

“Is all good… oh dear god you’re good!” He broke first.

She petted his hair, slumping on his shoulders forming a bubble around her body preventing her father from holding her further, he watched her confusedly as her body slid away from him.

“Actually go full speed I wanna test something” Shaking off her initial fright with ease– take the bubble and go full speed. I need to know something… What a great opportunity to test my abilities!” She said cheerfully– my body it’s able to withstand it to a degree… I was dizzy and I had difficulty breathing but I didn’t bleed… my ears hurt so its likely my eardrums would have bursted if I hadn’t enveloped my head but who knows when that would've happen."

“What are you on about?” He said nervousy.

“Everything is an opportunity to learn! Is okay– is not like I inherited your physiology, all I got was a hearty dose of compound V.” She rubbed her chin– wonder tho… Ryan is a carbon copy of you... there are records of powers being “inheritable” altho there isn’t much research on the matter– would love it if I could use Ryan for research later on, if possible." She mumbled to herself-- Pick me up and let’s go. I need to see if my bubble can withstand high speeds!”

Homelander had a difficult time understanding, for a moment he considered letting her know but the voice in his head told him to keep quiet just for a little longer.

He had a hard time figuring out the most comfortable way to lift the bubble, forcing her to make it smaller for ergonimic reasons, from inside she could find his fingers reshaping the surface by sheer force, a terrifying discovery.

It was no different from a carnival ride, her body flung against the wall of the bubble, the wind rippling all over the surface, pressure forcing her against one direction, but she could still move forward.

They reached the clearing outside an old farmhouse, a dusty american flag waving in the wind of the light blue and gray house, a large tree faced the front and Helena could only recognize it from an episode of Supes in America, he placed her carefully under the tree’s shadow, a wind chime coloured the wind, as she took a step out, following his lead as he entered the house forgetting he had brought her along for a second, the rustling leaves sung alongside rusted chimes, she looked at the overgrown grass and weeds lining the front yard, at last season’s dead leaves and fresh dead ones littered across the porch.

Inside everything had been covered in sheets, old cobwebs had made a home in the once cozy house, and picture frames caked in layers of dust clouding familiar faces.

Homelander headed for the living room where an old piano decorated with plane models adorned the room. She remembered the episode somewhat… expecting a retelling of factoids she could pull out from some youtube clip in an instant, a picture of an older blonde couple holding a small toddler in blue, white and red stripes, in fact they all were wearing some shade of red and blue, she noted.

Helena climbed to the piano picking the photograph as her father just followed quietly.

“Were they nice? Mine suck, lol.”

“They would’ve loved you. I’m sure of it.’ He spoke quietly– mom loved the piano too… I always wanted to hear the old thing play again.”

Helena smiled putting the photo by the dining table before it, flicking the lid open and scouring the music sheet for a decent tune, Homelander sat on the wooden table watching her hands play 'Schubert– moment musicaux No. 3', her fingers long enough to not strain her hand as she started to get to the most difficult parts of the intermediate song.

“Just like mom used to play… you must’ve gotten it from her.”

“Thank you.” Her fingers began to move to a different tempo, speeding up as she began a different concerto, Homelander picked it up watching her quizzically as her hands moved faster and faster, there was a darkness in the music– she must’ve been a virtuoso to be able to play Brahms most obnoxious pieces as a hobby!”

Her fingers smashed on the keys as the Hungarian dance sped up, missing notes and pains building all the way up her elbow– quitting all together, cursing at her fingers for being too short, cursing at her arms, wiping the sweat of her brow angrily.

She took the music sheet book flipping its cover towards Homelander to reveal the author, he should’ve known the set designers or prop makers had no care for the little things.

“What’s going on?”

Homelander swallowed a couple knots looking down away from her, he stood up.

“…follow me”

She dragged herself out of that piano as her father headed upstairs, his feet loud on the creaky floorboards, the halls just as dusty and quiet on the floors above, the fragrance of mildew and time permeated in the air, all the doors were shut except for one– the cream coloured walls adorned with frames pictures of baseball stadiums, small league baseball team flags with a tiger mascot sprinkled on the wall, and model airplanes hung from the ceiling decorated the small children bedroom. She gave a rounded look to the room, spotting the small bookcase filled with blue spines, a stack of worn down Hardy Boys’s books, and a cute wood carved rabbit.

Grimacing at the massive poster of the American declaration of independence with its tacky eagle/flag shield drawing on top, she shouldn’t criticized for her walls were mostly bare but this felt odd, decorated with books and awards she had won, her only pretty poster was a polaroid of a cat she found at a garage sale, but there was something bizarre being witness. It felt made for TV, it didn’t feel natural once the warm filter was off.

The room wasn’t as dusty as the floor below, he paused before the small collection of trophies on top of the dressers fidgeting until they were all straight, giving the room an odd look around before slumping on top of the children’s bed, a bit of dust danced on the sunlight, Homelander took the red cap off the bed post throwing it at Helena’s direction, Helena opted to sit on the small gangnam print armchair, putting the hat to humor him.

“You don’t get any whiter.” Her eyes keep staring at the poster– you always been this needlessly patriotic?”

“What? You have dissenting opinions against the government? You little anarchist.”

“This country is run by senile geriatrics and billionaire oligarchs… but above all… humans.”

He fixed the pillow as he closed his eyes with a light chuckle clinging on his lips.

“Humans… you think it shouldn’t be them?”

“Supes are a minority, humans would always lead nations no matter how many of us are around. They could use with a fresh pair of eyes, tho… not to mention you could kill a lot of those in charge and it would be a good thing.”

“Bit extreme."

“Maybe growing up in a place like this makes it difficult to understand what it's like to live on the side of those the government deems a burden.”

“I didn’t grow up in a place like this– this is all fake…” Homelander opened his eyes slowly, staring at the silver plane dangling from his roof, blowing with enough force to make it spin on its threads– they built this for TV… my room didn’t have anything… just a bed… a toilet and sink– no bathtub or shower in case I tried to kill myself or hurt myself if I showered or something! Nothing else… just bare walls… not even a window just an air vent.”

Helena cocked her head, brows touching as she heard him talk, her eyes gliding back at that stupid poster.

“You were in foster care? I’ve seen the Vought operated orphanage facilities… not exactly optimal.”

Homelander turned on the bed wanting to tell her all the things he held, but his tongue turned so heavy he dare not… not yet… would she pity him? would she think of him as pathetic? It was hard to see if she felt any form of sympathy at times– but he didn’t want that from his child, it was not a burden for her to carry, he thought.

“Something like that… I never knew my mother… she didn’t want me, I think. My father didn’t know he had me… then he tried to kill me when he meet me.” He took a deep breath, trying to make himself laugh as if it was a silly annotation in his life– Vought took care of me when I was a baby.”

“Was it a bad facility?” She didn't think it was right to ask, wondering why he was saying such heavy things with such lightness on his tone.

“I would burn the whole world before I let you or Ryan end up in a place like that.” His voice was stable but his expression betrayed him– it was lonely and awful. But I managed.”

“I’m sorry… we cannot help the nature of our birth or the nature of those who cared for us… we just have to deal with the leftovers they left us with– doesn’t need to hurt less, right?”

She paused, caught by that saddened expression forming on her father's face, at his gloves squeak under his grip. Helena fiddles with her backpack, jumping off the armchair towards him-- he looks up at the open palm holding candy, her lips trembly purse and her eyebrows fold downwards, finding her upset and nervous Homelander lifts himself on his elbow taking the werther's candy in hopes it would ease her.

“I’m sorry… sorry that happened to you.” She was struggling to talk– I knew kids who got taken by CPS… it didn’t always seem like a good thing.”

Homelander offered a sad smile that made for poor comfort.

“Is okay is all behind… I… I am just glad your mother never came back… because they would have done that to you.”

She looked confused, urging him to explain without words.

“Come ‘ere.” He fixed himself back upright, gluing himself to the wall to give her space, Helena dropped her backpack and hopped on the bed, finding it to be tight squeeze– your mother didn’t tell you just how special you and Ryan are. How much more special you two are even more than me… maybe.”

The girl gave him all the answers he needed in those big befuddled eyes.

“You and Ryan are the first natural born supes… Ryan’s mother came back when Ryan began to show powers while pregnant– so they locked her in a house like this. Ryan lived in a whole compound of fake houses and fake neighbors… a fantasy prison– and that was the “nice” place! Your mother was lucky, they would have taken you and put you in the same place they put me.” 

Speaking as if nothing was loaded, Helena scrunched the blanket under her hand, wanting to argue with him, yet if this was all true… she couldn’t blame him for being maladjusted.

He looked at the nightstand and the book next to the blue plastic lamp, taking in his hands.

“You like Dr. Seuss?”

Helena shook her head.

“Never read it. Mom got me too many books growing up, maybe we never got around them… and by the time I could walk to the Library I just skipped the kids section… as pretentious as that sounds.” She followed his hand as he trapped her in between his arm and his chest, but she wasn’t scared, this was normal for parents to do, even if he was still somewhat alien to her– I don’t think I was lucky.”

“You seen what they do in the labs… they would’ve done that to you, mayhaps.” He opened the book ‘If I ran the zoo’-- When I was small I had a stutter and they would…” he paused, biting his tongue slightly as it sat uncomfortably in his mouth– I would have to read a lot of silly rhyme books. Dr. Seuss was my favorite. I always wanted to met these stupid critters but turns out they weren’t real.”

There was a fondness in the way he held this book, his thumb rubbing on the spine, pressing the worn creases, tracing marks and straightening blunt tips– the copy was well loved, scratched beyond repair at the corners, and the spine so creased some white seep from the cracks as it threatened to rip apart.

“So I was born with my powers then… I can see why they would do such a thing to Ryan.”

“I think if Becca was around… she would have preferred it if she kept him to herself in the first place, maybe make her husband think the kid was his.” He looked down at the mop of black hair, expecting to see you but finding her instead, his eyes widen hoping the kid wouldn’t have a snappy comeback or grow uncomfortable but Helena just flicked to the next page reading the short verses, admiring the drawing of an elephant cat with a little smile– you don’t mind being born with powers?”

“It’s awesome to have powers. You want me to be all sappy and act like having them makes my life worse? Does it suck sometimes– yes.” She pauses, flattening an edge that had been used to bookmark too many times–  I’m different even amongst supes… but If I didn’t have powers then… I would be useless– I would make mom’s life harder. But I am great.”

Homelander felt the candy pressed tightly in his glove.

“I don’t think your mother would ever think that of you…”

“I dunno.” Her cheek rubbed on his suit, her voice so quiet as she went to the next page– sometimes… I don’t think she likes me very much… but sometimes she obviously does…”

“Helena…” His face hurt as he tried to speak but found himself unable to say another word, his jaw dislodging but his tongue sat dry in his mouth. 

“I was two when my powers happened. Mom… Mom managed to get out of the shelter and we moved to a long hallway with a bed and stuff on the walls– it was super cheap and it was better... I lived there until well… I broke a wall… then it was back to the shelter and then people’s houses and grandparents… When I was five we got that apartment and by then I realized I was allergic to dogs so I didn't need to be afraid of my nose anymore… no more broken stuff…”

“Those were accidents!” his voice almost broke, a seething rage tried to burst out of him as his eyes took a new shade of red, faceless bodies lingered on his thoughts wishing to justly harm them– all of that… that wasn’t you.”

“Tell that to my grandma after I broke their staircase.” She sulked in her spot– and the wall attached to it.”

Homelander could only cuddle her, wishing he could comfort her as easily it had been with Ryan. His son had desperately needed affirmations, needed to be provided with love and understanding– but this one saw everything far too maturely for him to help, he felt. 

“You can break stuff now… I’ll clean it up and I won’t get mad at you.”

“Thanks…?” That sounded grim coming out of his mouth but she wanted to hear it, as silly as it was, she nuzzled his side trying to crawl higher following his feathery fingers– By the way… why is this your favorite place? Like this is just a film set to make you look so cornbread american it hurts… I guess people knowing you’re an orphan didn’t sit well with test groups.”

“Is not. I fucking hate it… but sometimes I like to think what it would’ve been like if i grew up in a place like this. I don’t own much… I have a cabin but I don’t go there anymore… no home for me… just houses.” He flicked the page giggling at the silly drawing of weird animals– my favorite place in the whole world is right here.”

She expects him to point at anything, but he doesn’t for he’s just looking at her with sleepy eyes.

“I love you Helena. I really do.”

Her eyes blinked and blipped, as she hugged him back… with only one arm, it felt like the correct thing to do, Helena could see herself much younger, inside that small apartment while the neighbor is being loud, there she was sharing headphones with you, playing a movie on your old laptop, she hugged your torso with those short chubby arms that always felt so light to you, and her face resting on your chest, she remembered the weight of your chin and the lull of your breathing… her father was a slow breather making her sleepy.

“My favorite place in the world it’s Rolling’s Hills Asylum– I saw a ghost there once."

“Ghost aren’t real” He tried not to laugh at her beaming eyes.

“You shoot lasers out of your ass but ghosts are too far-fetched? Really?” she was genuinely offended– ridiculous.”

He had a hearty laugh regardless, he closed the book giving her head a peck, taking the moment to smell her hair, to enjoy the sound of her heartbeat and the blood coursing through her veins, hearing the current glad that it continued to run, seemingly never ending as it should be.

“Okay…Okay…” He lets her take the book off his hands, clearly miffed that he wouldn’t let her finish, he swallows– You know why I brought you here?”

“No.”

“I always wanted to know what it would be like to have a family in a home like this… having Ryan in the tower was the closest thing to that but now there’s you and your mother so I want to know if you’re okay with me moving in…? I started looking at houses but your mother is difficult… and there’s my penthouse which… I don’t know if it’s ideal.”

Helena had to fake ignorance, partially aware of what stresses you were putting yourself into. Sure neither of you had discussed this move somehow.

Your daughter straightens herself clutching the little book tight against herself, thinking of the dusty air in the room and the fake planes above her head covered in cobwebs.

“Move in with us…? I don’t think mom would like to live in the tower. I certainly wouldn’t… Is weird living where I work… great for saving on travel expenses, just… not a pleasant idea… just ‘cuz you helped me with Elmo– I’ll help you out with mom. It was sad without him around, somehow.”

Helena buried her face under the book, feeling as if she had betrayed you but she had to win him over… for you, she had to succeed, she had to do everything she could to not fuck this up.

Her heart thumped so loudly it was deafening, as she accepted her actions.

“Do you like Elmo?” Homelander turned pale, his nose tickled by a cocktail of emotional conditions.

“Huh?” She blinked thrice as her face twisted to face him– he is my friend… you’re supposed to like your friends.”

“Just as friends, right?” He tried to force an uncomfortable light laugh.

“Oh…” She blushed then frowned– I am seven!! Jesus you’re being gross, dad!!” She jumped out of the bed–  Elmo is my dog.” she said loudly.

Homelander wished he didn’t hear your voice just then, he buried his face in the pillow praying that the kid didn’t understand just how grim her words were, but mostly disgusted at himself… Why he had to say that? Was he jealous of a toddler!?.

“If you want to hit me please do so.”

“How hard?” She scowled, repulsed unknowingly by her father's misplaced jealousy, she wanted to hit him regardless.

“Your hardest.” He mumbled.

“I would break the wall.”

“Go for it.” he lifted a thumb up

A hundred or so meters later, and a tree branch jammed under his arm tearing his cape, he looked up spitting grass and dirt, the sky so obnoxiously blue.

He lifted himself slightly but not all the way with a slight groan, witnessing the hole on the side of the house and the torn down tree he had taken with himself, Helena jumped out the caveat floating towards him.

“Are you hurt?”

He lifted his fist still clutching on that wrapped piece of candy as she made her way towards him, struggling to unwrap it, glad when it was freed, the smell sweet and warm but tame compared to other crimes, shoving it in his mouth, allowing the caramel to melt in his tongue, he took a deep breath.

“Oh shit did I actually hurt you!?” With a pop Helena landed near him, jumping on her knees towards him, throwing her backpack to the side as her father just stared at the sky– you aren’t bleeding. Thank god…Good.”

“I’m fine, just surprised… By the way” he sat straight, his head lolling back and his mouth sucking loudly on his treat, he looks back at her once more smiling trying to appear completely fine not wanting his daughter to get more worried, fixated on the little red in her eyes– thank you for not hesitating.”

She sniffled a little.

“You’re so weird.”

“You can’t talk either, princess… I think I know how you can help me with your mom” She moved to remove a twig off his hair which somehow had stayed mostly in place– I want to organize a playdate for you. Get her to agree.”

She nodded, twirling the twig in her hand.

Homelander had one look at the broken house, and the torn down tree whose roots rained dirt– and scorched it. The cinder brought it down, Helena watched the bonfire and the billowing dust clouds, just flinching at the sudden burst of light, but as her sight caught on what was happening, she calmed down, drawn to the sight of flames, amused at how natural and flexible his lasers were, envious that she was lacking of them, angry that she was.

“Can we go get bagels?” She sniffed the smoke– I'm hungry…”

The two tried their best to eat while being gawked at– him more amazed about how much she could fit in her mouth– albeit with some reserved revultion. One hand held an egg bagel with cannoli cream cheese, while the other put a plain one with far too much smoked salmon and bacon cream cheese in his mind.

He watched her as she rotated the flavors, disturbed by her half chews in between to mix them in her cheeks.

She lifted her hand offering a bite of the salmon monstrosity.

“Is okay, I got my own…” She frowned, staring at the barely touched toasted bagel with nothing but a sliver of lox spread, Homelander looked away, not wanting to see her chewed up sandwich, considering leaving briefly then coming back to pick her up, but she insisted– "you want me to try?”

She nodded furiously trying to swallow fast enough.

He leaned down trying to ignore the camera recording behind him, taking a small morsel that seemed to satisfy the girl.

“yummy.”He was forced to look glad as he swallowed.

She looked at his with anticipation, unsure of what to do. he relented yet again.

“Cappers suck.” she regretted her bite instantly, swallowing forcefully.

“I’ll admit– not a fan of them, either.” 

He wouldn’t touch his food content to just watch her guzzle her meal and drown it with his coffee.

He looked at the clock on the store’s wall knowing it was almost time to pick up Ryan, the flight home was slower than he preferred but he hadn’t minded for Helena seemed to withstand this speed a lot better.

“Hey… not to worry or anything but… you did… you did sign me out of school, right?” her voice was filled with anxiety.

“What do you mean?”

As she looked at the high rises around her, she looked at her phone and the 54 missed calls from you.

“Did you tell mom, you were picking me up, right?” She cringed as the phone rang and her battery drained a little further– right!!?”

“No, why?”

“You might wanna park for a second, dude.”

Homelander begrudgingly agreed, putting the bubble down on top of the nearest silver roof.

“Who died?” Helena said.

“WHERE ARE YOU!!!???” your voice might’ve broken the speaker if it went up one more decibel– are you o-okay!? Helena, please tell me where are you!!? Please tell me you’re safe!!” Your voice was cracked and hoarse.

“I’m fine. wha…”

“Okay honey, baby, am going to… oh my god… I got this call from the school and there’s these cops and Ashley trying to find you, baby! Where are you!?”

“Cops…?” Homelander asked, trying to look for strange sounds in the distance.

“Please honey.”

She looked at her father while you frantically spoke to some unseen stranger, covering the mouthpiece.

“You fucking clown. You’re so going to owe me… like… you have no idea what you gonna make me do, you owe me.”

“Why are the cops involved?” he ignored her overtly aggressive tone for the moment.

“You kidnapped me!!! The Homelander’s daughter just got kidnapped of course they would call the cops!! They would call the cops for any kid who just vanishes from school you idiot!! That’s why you tell people!!”

“I need permission to pick up my own kid from school!!?”

“Yes!!” She took the phone to her ear– mom… I just ditched school. I was bored… am in” Helena looked around– Harlem.” Her voice monotone as she shot daggers at her father– I… I am sorry.”

“Helena… okay… okay am… am gonna see if I can get your father… he’s been on some mission but I… I dunno… am just so glad you’re okay, baby. I swear you’re not in trouble.” You cry and mumble towards an unseen and unheard strangers– okay baby they’re gonna track your phone and send somebody to pick you up…”

“Is not necessary. I’ll just float there…” 

“Helena what’s wrong?” Your heart breaks as her voice is so cold, more performative than her usual tone.

“I’m embarrassed… I… I didn’t think… sorry. I’ll get there…” her voice is jittery, her nerves infect you as if something unseen its making her feel like this, hitting you how powerless you were as the line died mid vowel.

She hung, staring at the screen.

“Write your alibi.”

“Why… why did you do that?”

“Because you’ll get in trouble.” She said sternly– next time just text mom before you do anything… how would you feel if mom took Ryan and didn’t tell you? or the school?”

As she walked towards the ledge, she turned to face her father, whose ears had just begun to pick up on the extra bustling happening nearby, like incoming mosquitos in the room.

“I forgot to tell you… but there’s this man called William… William Butcher and he wants me dead. Your mother thought he might do something against you” He bit his lips– that’s probably why she’s so upset and why that helicopter it’s heading towards Harlem.”

He pointed to the east but her sight didn’t pick up anything abnormal.

“I want to go to Disneyland.” She put her phone back in her backpack– and we are gonna do the queues, and you’re gonna eat those disgusting turkey legs on that sweltering california heat and you'll not complain– now this is what its gonna happen you’re gonna pick me up, I’ll pretend to have some sort of depressive episode that caused me to just fuck off scaring everybody and I called you to pick me up just now… your phone was on mute and you just notice, good?”

“Is it really that bad?” He found everything an absolutely ridiculous overreaction– am your dad, you were safe.”

“Today never happened. Or we both are screwed. Trust me it's that bad.”

Arriving at the school in her father’s arms, two police officers awaited for her arrival alongside yourself, a man with a Vought badge was bickering on the phone a few meters away aswell.

“Look who I found.” Homelander was quick to sell it at the sight of palpable distress, you ran towards Helena ripping her off his hands.

Even Ryan had been brought seemingly questioned about where his sister might’ve been.

The collar of his suit never felt so tight before, as it did just then.

Arriving at the home, she was sentence to a month of house arrest– no Vought labs or any unsupervised activities, lucky to just get the one week suspension for skipping school and not worse, Homelander thankfully had smooth things out with the police who almost shouted an amber alert after seeing Vought lose their minds… which necessitated a meeting afterwards, Homelander couldn’t fault Ashley for her panic attack after hearing the news and finding him awol, he was instead glad to see her lenghts of her dedication to him.

“I think we should also go to all the theme parks.” She grumbled putting her kindle down.

The clock reading past midnight.

“Everything is an opportunity to learn, no?” Homelander enter through the glass door, making sure to keep an eye on you as you sleep poorly– hope this makes you feel better.”

He took a yellow envelope from behind his back, it was thin and had a small pink bow, Helena ripped it off his hands, staring back at him as she ripped the glued seal off, the thin paper made her frown dissipate as her eyes digested the present.

“You’re gifting me Vought Stock?” She stares at the document as her mouth drops slightly.

"I have money to spare… perks of being the top dog for over twenty years– I get money from merch and films too, y’know.”

“These are over seventeen-hundred a pop.” She looked back at her father, and suddenly the man appeared  alien to her, he was a different breed indeed– are you sure? Is a lot of money”

“I barely do anything with it. I… I think by the time you’re 18 you could use the money you made from those to get yourself your own big girl seat with the shareholders.” He looks around her room, at the bare walls feeling uneasy, his eyes fixate on the picture of a stranger’s cat wearing a witch’s hat taken in what he could only guess was a dining room– still haven’t sorted the will situation, but don’t worry about money at all. Once I marry your mother it would all have been be dealt with.”

Homelander sat on her desk, leaning his behind on the wooden surface.

“We’re still going to disneyland” Homelander curses internally trying to not look like he was dying– could’ve just gotten me a squishmellow tho.” 

“Do I have to eat the turkey leg…?”

“Yes.”

“Please don’t do this to me” he half-jokingly begs.

“I feel nothing.”

Pouting like a kid, he looks to the ground feeling defeated, looking around, catching your snoozes in the backdrop, you had been so stressed you virtually passed out the moment your head touched the pillow, ypu had been arguing with him about never ever putting his phone on mute again, making him do the rounds of apology about Helena’s behaviour with both Vought, the local police and the school alongside you.

Homelander had grown guilty after seeing just how concerned Ryan had become over the ordeal while watching you comfort him, while your daughter got the talk from the uniformed men and the dean.

Yet you had gone out of your way to call him before bed.

“Your mom said I could visit while you’re grounded… she said you invited me for dinner…”

“Oh it's ‘cuz I told her that she should build a room for Ryan in the empty office so you guys can stay over. You’re engaged. It's weird to live separately but… baby-steps so the kid doesn’t get stressed too much, I mean your last girlfriend was a lunatic.”

“Starlight did turn out to be a loonie.”

“I meant Stormfront…”

“I didn’t know who she was…I was just a man who–

“There’s no cameras here my brother is christ– just one look at her records in Portland, and you would’ve noticed a pattern.”

“I just thought she would get over it after she realized I don’t care… like… am better than humans, we are better than humans… Don’t know why she grouped herself with them.” He scoffed.

“How supportive of you– pretending to care about her interest for pussy… what a chad move.” she scoffed putting the present on her nightstand– Mom did warn me about boys like you.”

“How do you know what tha– and what??”

“I’m in the tenth grade. Surrounded by 16 year olds. I’ve been mentally compromised– either way mom and I are gonna go to buy furniture for his bedroom tomorrow. Thank me later.”

She moved to her bed, pushing her few plush toys to the ground.

“By the way… what’s that playdate you had in mind?” her finger hovered on top of the lamp’s switch.

“They want Phantasma and Poltergeist as the new heads of Teenage Kix for when you’re older and ready. I think that’s too small… the name its too loaded, too many fuck ups after that second gen, b.s.” He stares at her and sees a brilliant future, hearing the chanting of adoring fans screaming for his children’s attention– they want to use that platform to launch our real international program… countries have been in bidding wars for the last couple months to have the first overseas hero program… So far only Japan, France, Brazil and Singapore have successfully been approved for the program. We have a couple open slots… lots of offers from India and the UK.  I want you to head that program– Ryan is great… he’ll lead this nation as their top hero but you– it would be too small for a brain like yours… I was thinking “The Watch” for a name. Catchy, no? Thought you might want to meet your future team-mates... they are a little older than you but...``

“I think I can get mom behind. Either way I should go to bed."

She said nervously.

Homelander smiled moving towards her to tuck her for the night, giving her a good night kiss as he turned the light’s off.

“Wait!”

He turned in a panic, his hand already on the door handle.

“...” She dug on her nightstand cabinet pulling out that Dr. Seuss book– we… we didn’t finish it… would you read it for me?”

Homelander had never seen the dark be so vibrant before, he sat on her bed taking the thin booklet in his hand before clearing his throat.

“I won’t do any funny voice so don’t worry.”

“Is okay if you want to…”

A smile melted into his face.

She watched his shape disappear, that night she dreamt of endless camera flashes.

As the weeks built up, Helena found herself spending more and more time with the other half of her family.

She had helped build the guest room, picking toys and wallpaper and her brother was appreciative.

Watching from a distance while next to him, no matter how much she looked at him she had little desire to interact with him on her own accord, the more she watched you try to sweeten him up, making him ziti and taking him out… the more bitter aftertaste his name left on her tongue.

Ryan was an easy child, painfully normal, nothing special if he hadn’t come pre-packed with superpowers… powers just like their father… he could fly, had laser vision, super strength and durability, and super senses… eyes just as blue, so much like their father. 

So boring… just a copy, no? she kept thinking.

Where was his spark? Where was the zest?

What made him actually special and great?

All he did was be cute, play with his toys and bore her to death. Talking to him was just a chore, nothing different from speaking to the average civilian., these thoughts plagued her mind.

As they sat together at the dining table, she looked at you then at her father and wondered just how much of a nuisance this kid would be for her future… she thought of her father’s vision…“The Watch” trying to decipher what could he possibly have set up for Ryan. The Seven? Really that’s all? Just a face in a lunchbox and nothing else… how quaint, she thought.

With every bite and sauce stain on her napkin, her anxiety took all the flavor from her meal… he was a threat… she thought of the unsorted will situation, no doubt still failing to include her– stocks could open doors to financial stability in the case her father died or lost his position, or you fucked it up with him… but it wasn’t a fraction of what he would leave Ryan, of the safety net underneath him.

But above all as she thought of the large behemoth on New York city skylines waiting for her... he could not stand in her way to take the kingdom.

Kingslayer. 

She could live with that… all the greats had done it… a sibling, a son, an uncle and father decapitated here and there, it be easier if she could shave his head and send it to a monastery to live as an eunuch… to kill the competition earlier on was easy that a drawn out battle killing thousands– butcher him as cleanly as she could.

Why would he miss him, anyhoo? Who would miss him? He had nothing… no mom and a finicky father, just a name that could slip thru the cracks, Helena thought.

She giggled at his joke, sat by his side as they watched a movie after dinner, shared her popcorn and said nothing when you offered your lap to let him rest, said nothing as you brushed his hair with your fingers.

Butcher… the moment ceases to play in her mind, her eyes seeing floating words cover the whole living room– a simple slip up from Homelander… William Butcher… Ryan had been Ryan Butcher once according to his file at work… who was Becca Saunders? She had only ogled the file for the briefest second… he had said it back at the house… passed him as her husband’s kid… who was this William that was so dangerous his name was comically apt. and how much did his wife dissapearance had affected him.

She would keep it in her back pocket.

So here she was on her way to a class field trip to the Smithsonian, her father and two other chaperoned the class, gawking at his recently retouched roots from her seat, more than looking out the passenger window, a girl sat on her side texting to her friends, there was a buzz in the bus as the teenagers came to realize Homelander of all people had come to chaperone their excursion, one of the moms had wasted no time trying to befriend the Supe, her social skills enviable as she chatted him up with ease… already trading baby photos, and asking him about his skincare routine complaining about how dry her skin got around this time of year, and other banalities.

The trip was everything she had expected– except for Homelander becoming an impromptu tour guide, going on a rather in-depth discussion on great American mammals, and the tragedy of the American buffalo with the tour guide.

Helena had gotten excited at the marine exhibitions which thankfully some kids found her explanation interesting, Homelander was proud to see her and two kids discuss whales. On the other end of the spectrum there was her father doing his best to contain his excitement at the sight of Theodore Roosevelt… The man had an encyclopedic knowledge of American presidents and their achievements. One would think he was staring at some invisible monitor feeding him information– regardless there was something sweet as he sat Helena next to the bronze statue of Theodore for a picture, turning the camera quickly on himself, that the other parents noticed, the chatty mom finding it beyond adorable, reminding her of her own little boy.

As the classrooms took a second to relax and have lunch, she saw no alternative but to sit next to him.

“Do you have an earpiece or something?” 

“What? I can’t know stuff?” He scoffed sipping briefly on his coffee.

“Just thought your interior designer just put those president portraits in your house for the bit… like that poster in your bedroom.”

“I like history.” he mumbled, looking a tad shy to admit it, as if it was some dirty secret– am I embarrassing you?”

“No…? I’ve never seen you this excited before.” He blushed, glad that it wasn’t anything bad.

That smile would fade away as they headed to one of the final exhibitions… “American Super” a new exhibition focused on… you guessed it… Superheroes. 

This was a collection of Vought’s finest, hero suits adorning the way in their glass cases, as pretty text explained the inspirations and significance of the suit’s symbolism and how it represented the ideas and personalities of their heroes, on the evolution on textile engineering and how superhero suits helped pave ways of innovation, it was decades of Vought culminating on ‘The Seven’ and some of Goldolkin’s promising students– there was something grim at the sight of his own suit inside a box.

“Where the fuck did they get the red cape from?” He mumbles, the tour guide turned to him to explain, which did not make him feel any less queasy.

“Wow… he isn’t just a massive nerd but also had to be here to show off? pathetic.”

Helena stared at the girl who had whispered towards her friends, them chortling together.

As the tour continued, the man considered briefly murdering the girl, thinking of how easy he could make it look like an accident, he knew her name and address after all– disposing of her should be easy.

His mood soured and his build-up of excitement had completely vanished, picking on every snide and mock comment from the group, spouting the same bullshit of your everyday Starlight supporter– it had been at the mention of his complicitess on those Maeve’s conspiracies where he had grown visibly irked, and unable to hide it.

“You can’t touch them.” Helena tugged on his sleeve pointing at his face– Your eyes…”

“Is okay they’re just stupid children who stare at their phones for too long.” He looked at the bust of Translucent thinking of how they got his hairline wrong– "I wouldn't have come if I knew this was on…”

“Really you didn’t want to see another 1:1 recreation of your childhood bedroom.”

“I want to go home.” He cried as they followed the tour guide, they stopped to ask about the room with excitement which he easily matched after years of selling himself so cheaply– it’s like they picked it up and just dropped it here.”

Both noted how even the carved rabbit bookend was present on this bookshelf.

As they headed for departure, Helena hurried up the stairs catching the girls behind her, she gave her father a cheeky look, pursing her lips behind her finger, flinging her arm absetmindledly as he raised a solitary eyebrow… All there was was the sound of bodies crashing and crying.

A shattered bone, and whining.

He smiled just for her.

And she smiled just for him, before running towards him pretending to have been frightened by the sound, as a crowd built itself and a teacher rushed towards the commotion.

“I think she dances or something… not with that knee anymore.” She whispered into his chest.

“Thank you.” he whispered in her ear, holding her tightly before leaving for superhero duty.

It had to add a line on the tally, no?

Taglist-- @immyowndefender @demodemo909 @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

apologies for lenghts but hope y'all like it

[conflictofthemind]

Not saying this means anything especially since TBSOAS (the book) only came out in 2020, more of a “hey this is weird” post but:

I’ve always thought these two looked / were similar as two wavy blond haired blue eyed men, and it definitely helps that they both premiered (in the case of film Corio) within one year of each other . But there’s like, more than that? And some of it is very strange?

First off, they are two characters who since the start of their chronological stories teeter between ‘good’ and ‘evil’ with a lot of forces in their life, including their evil scientist mentor, pushing them towards the dark side by use of manipulation tactics. Henry is much more of a direct victim to this than Corio is though, and the latter also does have more good influences in his life.

“Fueled with the terror of becoming Prey, see how quickly we become Predator?” - Dr. Gaul

“I could restore balance to a broken world… a predator, but for good” - Henry Creel / 001

Also, can I mention how both TBOSAS and TFS are set in the same exact time period? The Hunger Games uses retro futurism since the entire story is set centuries from now, but the era is clearly inspired by the late 50s to early 60s, especially given that it takes place 60 years before the main series.

Now here’s the actual weird part that had me making this post.

Both of their origin stories center on a romance with a female co-lead that ends with them killing her (heavy question mark). That’s not the weird part. It’s the way that the plots of both of these origin stories and said female characters are based off of old European folk-songs that were popular in Appalachia. TFS is based off of ‘The Tale of Barbara Allen’ and TBOSAS is based off of ‘The Ballad of Lucy Gray’ - Stranger Things just bothered to change her name to Patty Newby. Barbara Allen (Patty) appears as a covey sister of Lucy Gray in TBSOAS. Naturally, both of these characters are singers which plays a role in their respective stories.

I just have to say, it’s a very obscure source of inspiration to happen twice like this. There is a little part of me that thinks Kate Trefry and the writing crew on TFS might have been fans of The Hunger Games. But who knows.

Suzanne Collins wrote the TBOSAS prequel to answer the question of ‘nature vs nurture’ and how much choice villains have in becoming their future selves - which is the exact same question that is actively being posed by Stranger Things in regards to Henry.

And then how I got started on this line of thinking again today - the older adult versions of these characters both kidnap the respective sweet boy love interests and hijack them against the main characters. For strategic reasons and, in the case of Peeta, emotionally torturing the main character so she gives up. Will and Peeta are just both so similar as characters; soft and sensitive, traumatized, painters, both the poor underdogs with (seemingly) unrequited love for the protagonist though Mike isn’t really the protagonist.

I’m not sure if there’s actual inspiration being taken here. I typically assume not on the basis that I’m someone who can find connections between any pieces of media I enjoy. But the whole Appalachian folktale angle of it all is strange to me.

While I don’t think Henry was conceived with this in mind, it’s possible the inspiration sprang up during the further fleshing out of his backstory and into writing The First Shadow. Maybe it will even have an impact on the final season.

One of the things I liked about TBOSAS was the theme of the past coming back to haunt Snow in the future through Katniss and the music Lucy Gray created living on through her. If this was in any way inspiration, I’d love to see Vecna haunted by how similar Will is to him and especially the ways that he is different and able to do better.

[plotdesigner]

picrew used here

It's oc time, tumblr!!

Name: Lanif Castor, formerly Yaniv Khouri

Species: Human 

Homeworld:  born Black River Delta, lives Scala ad Caelum 

Age: late 50s (time of Kingdom Hearts: Dark Road), mid 60s (time of death)

Occupation: Professor/Medical Biomagus/Keyblade Wielder 

Job Class: White Mage/Summoner/Black Mage

Relationships: 

Xehanort: student, quasi-son

Eraqus: student, adoptive nephew 

Weapon: Blue Blooming Lotus (Keyblade)

Gender:  Male 

(More under the cut!)

Black River Delta

Lanif’s homeland is a combination of floodplain and desert centered around the enormous river that gives the world it’s name. The river runs black with the amount of sediment it carries, along with the sheer amount of fish, boats, megafauna and people that rely on it.  The three seasons are Flood, Farm and Harvest, relying on the yearly rise and fall of the river; weather that gets below freezing, much less snow, is a once a century scenario. 

Being an agricultural powerhouse near a locus of gummi ship routes meant that Black River Delta became a center of trade, culture and science centuries ago and remains one to this day. Much like Agrabah, it retains a skepticism for the reliance on magic common on worlds like Radiant Garden and Scala ad Caelum; although magic practitioners are more common than on Agrabah, they often approach magic as a science rather than a spiritual phenomenon.

Having been conquered by others and conquering others back many times over in it’s long history, Black River Delta’s monarchy has developed the kind of family tree and drama usually only seen in long running soap operas. All royal decrees are translated into five languages to ensure the majority of the incredibly varied population can understand them, and religious freedom is not so much a right as a necessity given the amount of ways the many faiths that were born or introduced intertwined among each other. 

Backstory

Once Upon a Time....

Lanif Castor, born Yaniv Khouri, was born fifth of seven in a rural village far away from the drama and bustle of the capitol. He was a quiet, serious child who would help on the family farm by weeding plants or making sure the goats didn’t wander off; as his older siblings grew more interested in continuing the family farm, he grew interested in the spiritual and practical tasks of the village mortician, who took him under his wing as a potential apprentice.

When Yaniv was fourteen, his parents’ house collapsed with them and his two younger siblings inside due to a fault in one of the walls and an otherwise harmless sandstorm. Running home to find the house buried in sand, Yaniv started digging with his bare hands, only to be overcome with a sense of certainty - there was a way he could get them out easily, but it would leave him with responsibilities for the rest of his life. Was he willing?

Of course he was.

His keyblade manifested. Yaniv used it to sweep away the sand. 

He was able to dig his siblings out safely. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get to his parents in time. 

In the aftermath, the mortician sent a message to a larger village to try and found out why, exactly, his apprentice had spontaneously manifested a magic sword. The priest in the next village sent word to the village in a nearby town, and she contacted another city - 

It wasn’t long until a keyblade wielder came to the little village in Black River Delta with an explanation and an offer. Keyblades came to those with worthy hearts, and Scala ad Caelum would teach those worthy ones how to wield them responsibly. They’d even offer a stipend in order to offset the loss of a pair of hands from the family farm - modest for Scala ad Caelum, but a fortune in a village so far from Delta’s capitol. 

It meant leaving home, possibly forever. It meant saying goodbye to his siblings, his ambitions, his teacher, the goats, and the river. Yaniv took it the opportunity, intent on supporting his family. 

Leaving Home 

The change was stark. Scala ad Caelum was a city on a vast archipelago (too humid and cool) on the ocean (too big) where the streets were narrow and the buildings tall (too crowded) and the basic assumptions of the others at the school he was enrolled in were too strange.

Scala ad Caelum had been founded in the ashes of the Keyblade War; it venerated light and keyblades alike, and the world had ritualized communication and emotion to free it from darkness, and saw the keyblade as a holy tool - words taken from the Church of Light itself. Strong emotions were to be repressed and individual action was to be aligned with the greater good in order to prevent a repeat of the war; society calcified into classes.  As more Scalans began to lust for the keyblade as a sign of prestige rather than a tool for good, fewer and fewer of them manifested one, leading to an offworld recruitment campaign that many Scalan nobles resented and envied in turn. 

As such, while Yaniv Khouri was considered a reserved and intelligent teenager at home, in Scala’s most prestigious academy he came across as blunt, overly emotive, obnoxiously pagan, and obviously rural. His classmates either avoided him or tried to pick fights; well meaning teachers pushed him to convert as a solution to the issue.  (And being one of the few arab-african students on a world with a population of mostly east asian and european descent did not help.) 

His one ally came from an unlikely corner: Xine Pollux, the youngest daughter of an old blood Scalan noble family and inheritor of the Master Defender keyblade. She was more interested in maintaining the martial tradition of the family than the political, and increasingly annoyed with the attempts by ambitious classmates to drag her out of the knightly footsteps she was quite happy to follow in thank you very much, and into the realm of marriage alliances and violence with words instead of fists. 

Yaniv and Xine found fellow spirits in each other, both wanting to get offworld to do good and get away, excel in their studies, and also get a little peace and quiet; they offered each other mutual chicanery in the name of helping each other, Xine helping Yaniv pick a Scalan name to pass better and teaching him world customs, and Yaniv, now Lanif, was one of her few classmates, then associates, then friends, to respect and stick by the strict principles she held herself to. 

He went home for summer vacation. He came back with his hair impeccably braided, three months worth of coffee beans, and the goal of becoming so much better than his classmates that they’d have no choice but to shut up and sit down. 

And then he did.

Magic, combat, history, maths, etiquette - he threw himself into it all with the red hot energy that came from spite - and then, as he discovered more and more about magical healing, with burning interest. When he and Xine were approved to fight as keybearers, they went as a team, Xine as tank and offense and Lanif as healer, support and mage. 

Growing Up 

As Xine’s parents and older brothers succumbed to old age or dangers of being active keybearers, she had to spend more time helping with the political side of being a noble; Lanif used the opportunity to begin courses to hone his white magic from general use in combat to handy for more specialized emergencies. 

And when XIne became head of her noble house after the abrupt death of her final living brother, having quit taking active missions to take care of him in his final days, Lanif had worked his way through medical school and was alternating between clinical work  and being sent out on healer-specific keybearer missions, and spending what little free time he had left stress cooking and helping Xine deal with the mounting paperwork. 

Xine’s House Pollux was old, but it’s power had dwindled with it’s population; the family had tended their resources well, but manpower was low. It’s sibling House Castor had died a generation back; Xine alone held the pull of two noble houses and all their holdings, and with Scala’s obsession with lineage dating to the Keyblade War and increasingly batshit politics, she’d have little ability to get anything done with people begging for marriage alliances - 

Unless she revived the old House Castor and gave it to her pagan offworlder friend. Lanif accepted the responsibility with glee, despite knowing how it’d put a bigger target on his back; the two of them had spent their youth fighting evil in the shape of monsters, and now that they were getting into their thirties, it was time to fight it in the shape of society.  Scala ad Caelum’s isolationism and obsession with light was growing worse, and someone had to try and hit the brakes.

(Or disappear for three months and come back pregnant with nary an explanation. Rumors abounded about the parentage of little Eraqus Pollux - but being born a near copy of his mother dispelled a great deal of them. Xine never told.)

Teacher Time 

Time flew between the politics and the parenting. Lanif discovered a passion for translating nonmagical medical procedures into spells into materia, where even a layman could instantly cast the spell to provide treatment - useful for chronic conditions that otherwise required constant synthesis of a delicate hormone, like insulin, or to replace kidney or liver function to reduce reliance on dialysis machines. He moved on from clinical work to medical research, which was easier to balance with his duties as a Head of House and a keybearer - 

And was eventually invited to teach at the same prestigious school for nobles and keybearers he attended once. His prestige was growing enough to outweigh his infamy, and some of Lanif’s enemies on Scala hoped that distracting him with teaching would dilute his influence - which it did, only to be replaced with him immediately working to reform the school that had given him so much trouble in his teen years. 

It was at Scala’s school and his student labs that Lanif would encounter the roses he would become famous for in his final years - great rosebushes that had endured the archipelago’s monsoons and centuries of students to engulf entire swathes of wall and tower, climbing several stories up to the rooftops. As Lanif’s medical experimentation went from the physical to the metaphysical, he used the hardy roses to begin to cultivate small amounts of both light and darkness - transforming the difficult to handle raw magics into safe to handle dilutions for his own research. 

Eraqus grew up with the support and nurturing of his mother and his uncle, but found navigating relationships with his peers tricky, feeling as though like and dislike were measured out by opinions on his famous and infamous guardians rather than any personal feelings for him. He developed a smiling facade to keep people at a safe distance while remaining friendly, eventually testing how much he could mess around with his studies and still pass due to his famous lineage - though whether it was to make a point or because of the increasing strain of his self-imposed isolation, he was not able to articulate.

(Lanif flunked him, cementing his own reputation as a hardass teacher and Eraqus’s as Tardy Fleetfoot.)

And then, on one cool summer day, a portal was ripped on one of Scala’s beaches, and an offworld boy with a keyblade stumbled through. 

Xehanort 

No one really considered the boy wandering the streets of Scala of much import until he brought out his keyblade - and then people were very interested in a kid with no id and no money and an entire magic sword was doing wandering around Scala. 

It was lucky that Eraqus was out on the boardwalk fishing. He saw the commotion and vouched for Xehanort before things could escalate, and innocently asked if he could ask his mother to come help clear things us. 

Xine and Lanif promptly came down like a pile of bricks and brought Xehanort home. Xehanort haltingly explained things - he’d found a way to Scala to find out how to use a keyblade, he didn’t want to go home, he’d been told that anyone with a key would be welcomed, and he was rattled by the less than warm welcome. 

Lanif, with his own less than stellar first year in Scala running through his head, promptly dipped into his emergency funds while Xine pulled strings to get Xehanort an ID, a scholarship and a place in the dorms faster than Xehanort could kick Eraqus’s ass at chess.

Xehanort and Eraqus would have hit it off without Eraqus’s family swooping in to help, but borrowing a room in his house and deciding yeah, sharing a dorm room with him would be cool just speed-ran the friendship. Xehanort’s wonder and joy at a new world made Eraqus engage with it once more, and Eraqus’s earnestness and willingness to wear his heart on his sleeve were a salve for Xehanort after what had been a very bad year. 

( Meanwhile, Scala’s more conspiratorial wing of the church checked in on the chosen one who had been sent to a very special island to be free of the corruptive influences of the newer, more liberal Scala and had three very bad realizations in quick succession: one, the child’s caretaker had died a year previous, two, the child had been dumped into foster care about it, three, no one was really sure where the child had gone. Whoops! Cue a scramble to figure out where the FUCK their chosen one went. )

 And as the two of them began school together as part of the keyblade wielder class, apprenticed under Master Odin, they were inseparable. While Eraqus continued to mostly float through his classes, Xehanort studied like a man possessed; while Xehanort found fighting unwieldy and slow, Eraqus took to combat like a fish to water. They challenged each other, pushing each other in skill level and knowledge as they grew, and grew close to the few other keyblade wielders who were learning alongside them.

Lanif, for his part, tried to provide Xehanort with tutoring and guidance as he forged forward on his path, sometimes falling on the side of strict as he gave him additional lessons. Scala demanded twice as much from offworlders like them, and Lanif would not let Xehanort be torn apart by it’s judging claws - even if it did, at times, frustrate Xehanort. He tried to recreate old meals Xehanort remembered from home, and showed him his own home cooking, and even if their conversation was stilted at times - he became someone Xehanort could come home to happily. 

They would have liked it to be official. It would have been good. But it was not allowed. Lanif’s political power was considered too great as it was, and so his enemies insinuated that he wanted to use Xehanort, manipulate him - and so for the sake of Xehanort’s privacy and safety, Lanif abstained for the time. 

....it would be a few years later, at the end of this idyllic period, that Kingdom Hearts: Dark Road takes place. (Which, I’ve only read the script and not watched it so, grain of salt on how well I’ve got all the details lmao)  What was supposed to be a simple Mark of Mastery exam escalated into the near-unbalancing of multiple worlds, an attempt to destroy the world in the name of light,  an attempt to destroy the world in the name of darkness, and the murder of most of Xehanort’s fellow keybearing students. 

In the aftermath, the world was in shock; Eraqus and Xehanort shot into celebrity status as the two who had survived, who had saved the day - Eraqus took to avoiding the fame as much as he could as he tried to silly his way out of his feelings, while Xehanort smiled his way through it as turmoil grew in his heart. 

(Xine gave Eraqus a place to hide and lick his wounds. Lanif tried to do the same for Xehanort, but Xehanort couldn’t stand the thought of showing such vulnerability, even around someone he knew and trusted. In the end, none of the adult keybearers had come in time to stop the killings; it had been up to Xehanort alone.)

Lanif could not bridge the gap between himself and Xehanort, though he tried; he was never particularly good at a bedside manner on his own, and it was worse when it was something important like this; worse when his duties as a teacher and doctor had kept him from noticing Baldr festering in in his own darkness, when he only knew Xehanort and Eraqus were in danger well after the time had passed. 

He could not force Xehanort to bridge the gap before he was ready. He could only make sure he was ready to reach out fo rhim when the time came - 

And he could turn his studies fully to light and darkness. Darkness had overcome Baldr,  but could it have been stopped with an application of light - not as a weapon but as medicine? Light and darkness in high enough measures affected the personality and temperament; he had dabbled in treating keybearers who had been exposed to too much of both, but could he formalize it? Get rid of the stigma against darkness so that the fear of darkness did not make events escalate again? 

Well, probably not, but he had to try. 

Scala’s Chosen One 

Between Master Odin’s retirement and Xehanort taking and passing his own Mark of Mastery, Xehanort didn’t need a new master - but there was always the possibility of, metaphorically, post-doc study. Lanif had taken on a few students in his time to train in white magic - and, once, in summoning - and had eagerly made plans for Xehanort’s graduation. They had both discussed light and darkness and their study eagerly, and Lanif’s hardy roses were beginning to bear fruit - literally, bearing safe to handle rosehips full of light and darkness for study.

But it would not come to pass.

Some weeks after passing the Mark of Mastery, Xehanort summoned a new keyblade - the great black key with one Gazing Eye, the keyblade of Scala’s Great Founder. He’d already been the center of attention as a survivor of Baldr’s massacre, but it doubled when he became the heir of that key.

Scala had been put together by the great Ephemer, who had spent his entire life rebuilding the city on the ruins of the Keyblade War; the only one who was more revered was the Great Founder, the single surviving Lost Master, who had left a holy book from which the Church of Light grew. Those who could wield the Founder’s Key were said to understand the Founder’s will, and would be brought into the church as figurehead and prophet as fast as possible. 

....Luxu was not so thrilled about this.  He’d written the damn book as a guide to try and keep the surviving keyblade wielders from murdering each other before the Master of Master’s plans could kick into gear. It wasn”t supposed to be religious! And people kept on twisting things more and more out of context in the pursuit of thei own desires! He said no Unions, why are there 108 Houses?? Stop obsessing over the light!  

The one good thing about it was that every decade or two, Scala spat out someone so deranged they’d try and end the universe. One of them probably had to be whoever he was waiting for for the plan, right? And if not, it was funny watching them kill each other over self fulfilling prophecies. He’d alternate between taking the body of a wielder and that of a priest or politician, pushing their obsessions further and further, trying to get the pot to finally boil the frog... 

Xehanort had been his friend as Bragi. He was brilliant, and he’d become cynical, and he had his keyblade. Maybe he was the frog. 

So Luxu shucked off his old body and took on that of Lucian Patine, bishop and politician for the Light. He could figure out that Xehanort was that missing Chosen One with a few strings pulled; when Lanif tried to invite Xehanort to be adopted properly, the paperwork went missing. Xehanort was being dragged into politics whether he liked it or not, judged quite literally by the entire world; it was easy enough to show up as a mentor, to offer guidance, to slowly but surely expose Scala ad Caelum’s rotten core - 

Xehanort was already on the right path when Luxu had found him. All he needed was a little push and a few resources. They both needed the world to become better - Luxu would not see the other Lost Masters until then, and Xehanort would not find the justice he craved. 

They spiraled together in mutual disgust for the world, and Luxu would find a new place to push xehanort every time, to drive him deeper down his path.

And - if he had his frog, his chosen one, did Luxu need this world to continue birthing wanna-be apocalypses every decade? Didn’t Xehanort want a chance to destroy the pressure cooker that had created Baldr?

Xine’s work slowed from politics to her old hobby of blacksmithing as decades of fighting caught up with her. Eraqus, missing his friend and growing more fanatic about light, isolated himself at the monastic world he’d been assigned to. Lanif studied light and darkness in his lab and tried to help his students and waited and waited as days turned to weeks, weeks to months, waiting to hear from Xehanort one more time. 

The Last Day

Lanif was supposed to be visiting home, but one of his old students was pregnant and had invited him to the birth and christening; he’d moved his vacation days around so that he could leave a little later and visit Hikari on Radiant Garden. If it was a boy, he’d be Ansem; if a girl, Kairi.

It was the reaction of the roses that let him know something was wrong. The darkness roses hissed and let darkness ooze from their buds, making the air stink. The light roses grew stiffer, their rosehips shining every brighter.

Which would only happen if the ambient darkness in the atmosphere  raised exponentially.

He slammed a door open - and, again, there was the smell of darkness in the air, almost spicy, and the sky was turning dark even though it was mid-morning. There were terrible rents in the sky, black pools dotted with glowing yellow. 

Not the night, but another world.  

The Heartless weren’t the most common enemy Lanif had faced, but he could recognize them. Could recognize the portals to the World of Darkness with a fear that shuddered down to his bones. 

There weren’t many Keyblade Wielders left this generation. Not many people had a consistent way to get off-world. But with that many Heartless coming, the best way to save people would not be to fight, but to flee.

So he flew on his Keyblade and started them running. Portals offworld, clumsy ships - the students funneled in, since the school was closest, and then - 

He couldn’t go home. Xine would be fine on her own, organizing the evacuation there; to go find her would only distract both of them from the task at hand. They’d split to tackle major problems hundreds of times before. He would trust her to survive to the end, just as he’d do his best to survive so he could see her again. 

Eraqus was offworld, thank goodness, still moping about - 

Xehanort. Where was Xehanort? In town, probably - Lanif could check the port area next to the school, he was going there anyway, not a distraction, it would be fine - 

The port was swarming with Heartless. The great clock had been cracked; boats were drowning in the harbor. On top of one of the old buildings was a person in black keyblade armor with a goat’s head as a helmet; they tore open another portal to the World of Darkness as he approached, staring down. 

He couldn’t go look for Xehanort if an enemy was there summoning Heartless. Besides, Lanif had spent a lifetime fighting Scala ad Caelum, trying to tear all its stupid rules to shreds so it’d be a little more fair, a little better, but that didn’t mean all the people there deserved to be eaten alive. 

So he attacked. 

Lanif was primarily a doctor in his later years, but that didn’t mean he’d let himself lose his edge; you didn’t get to making materia without being good at magic. He summoned his favored summon - Anpu, a black jackal whose healing and buffing were matched only by being extremely immune to instant death attacks -  and started going ham with the magic, spamming Triple Blizzaga from range and swapping to Balloonga or Reflectga when the goat-head got too close. 

The goat-headed warrior didn’t summon a keyblade; they cast Flare, Firaga Burst, spells that alternated light and darkness, and even made the dark sky glow from an Ultima. It  was - 

Familiar. This had to be someone he knew hiding their keyblade. But who? Why? 

“Run away,” said the goat head, voice raspy from the smoke coming from nearby buildings damaged in the fighting. He was unsteady on his feet, but his armor was holding up - for now. They were both fighting MP Exhaustion as well as each other at this point. 

“I can’t,” Lanif replied. His ears were ringing from getting slammed against the ground; he couldn’t recognize the voice, he could feel his bones scraping together despite all the healing magic he’d used on himself. Pieces of his armor were beginning to break off; his summon had been pancaked against a wall minutes ago, an eternity ago. He tried to shove himself back to his knees anyway, using his keyblade as leverage to maintain his balance. “There’s someone I have to protect.” 

“People always say that before they do something unforgivable.” 

“Maybe so. I don’t care.” 

“Are you, too, full of false light? Hiding cruelty under your pretty declarations? Do you think you’ve fallen to darkness, or is this rage of yours a holy light?” 

“I don’t care about light and darkness,” Lanif declared as he dragged himself to his feet. “Or the Founder whose symbol you’re so happy to stick on your head. A heart is as much defined by light and darkness as it is by blood and vessel, or the body by hormone and sinew, or the brain by fat and flesh. I’m stopping you from summoning more of these monsters, and then I’m going home and taking my son out for coffee, like I promised him!” 

Lanif lunged forward, his keyblade tilted up to smash the helmet off or into his opponent’s face - despite how obviously telegraphed it was,his enemy didn’t dodge - no, by his body language, he was shocked, but by what?

“As if, old man.”

The blade slid through the hole in Lanif’s armor and into his side,up into the ribcage. He’d been so focused on staying upright he hadn’t noticed the man in white behind him until it was too late.  He swung his keyblade back, striking his attacker, but it was too late; he fell to his knees, his vision going black at the edges. 

Whatever was hit may not have been immediately fatal, but after this fight, and at his age? Even if he could manage a Curaga, he was pushing his luck to not bleed out. 

There was a clatter as the goat’s head tumbled to the ground. He couldn’t see either of them - it was an effort to keep his arms straight enough to keep him from collapsing.

“Professor!” 

He was caught just before he collapsed, pulled into strong arms, his helmet pulled off carefully to free his braids in an explosion of silver and black. Xehanort was holding him - ash smudged, sweaty, alive - was casting whatever cure spells he could think of. 

“Is now the time?” said a familiar, obnoxious voice. Lanif’s head wasn’t clear enough to recognize it, even though he should, even though he knew it was the voice of someone who’d taken something precious from him... 

“Shut up,” Xehanort snapped to the other man, and then looked down at him. “What have I done? I just wanted to - to make this world’s cruelty stop.” 

What had he done? Lanif wasn’t sure. He’d been looking for him but he hadn’t seen him until now, and there - was - something important, wasn’t there - what was he worried about - 

He reached up and cupped Xehanort’s face. “It’s fine. I know it’ll be fixed now that you’re here.” 

“Don’t say that!” 

“I’ve always had the greatest confidence in you.” And his vision was dimming, holding only Xehanort’s tearful face in it’s shrinking diameter. “Sorry for scaring you. I’ll be on my feet soon. We’ve still got to go out for coffee together. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” Xehanort said, holding Lanif’s hand to his face. Tears welled and dropped on Lanif’s armor. “Don’t go. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, you weren’t supposed to be here - You should have run away!“

“How could I run when... I didn’t know where you were?” 

That just made Xehanort cry more. That wasn’t - it shouldn’t - Xehanort hated being seen crying. 

“It’s alright,” Lanif murmured. He was - tired. Maybe he just had to - close his eyes -  “It’s alright, son. It’s ok, it’s ok.. it’s... “

...................

............

.....

.

The Aftermath 

Xine Pollux survived, bringing a number of Scalan residents to the world her son had moved to. Other survivors went to nearby worlds as well; the largest group settled on Radiant Garden and would become a major cultural influence on the branch of the Church of Light that had developed there. 

Nevertheless, the death toll was catastrophic.  Centuries of knowledge were lost. The art of keyblade wielding dwindled. 

No body was ever found, much to the upset of both Lanif’s Scalan friends and his family on Black River Delta.  Lanif’s family on the Delta held a funeral that numbered hundreds - six siblings begat dozens of nieces and nephews and even more grandchildren, who he’d visited regularly for over fifty years. 

Xine and Eraqus held their own small funeral, which grew larger as former students came, and people he’d saved during the fall of Scala. it turns out that despite his reputation for being abrasive, blunt and argumentative, he’d actually done a lot of good. It would jumpstart the transformation of his reputation from a controversial political figure to a renowned scientist and keyblade wielder, which would be further fueled by the popularity of the Auto-Cast medical materia that he’ engineered. By the time of Kingdom Hearts, he’d faded to a semi-famous historical figure who figured in several books and plays - and also several more that never were published as Eraqus and Xehanort kept on showing up to go ‘hey you’re not erasing his identity as an offworld polytheist to make the church of Light look good, right?’ because even if they were fated to eventually try and kill each other, they both had some fucking standards.

Xine helped the refugees resettle and remained a resource as both a leader and someone with a vast cultural knowledge, but she was never the same after losing her home and her best friend in one fell day. She stayed at the monastery Eraqus had been assigned to when not traveling. When she died, Eraqus was left truly alone. 

~

Xehanort sat at his desk, staring down a mess of papers - plans for Kingdom Hearts, for light, for darkness - 

An old essay with a handwritten note and a fading coffee stain. Well done, Xehanort. 

“Is this worth it?” 

Silence.

“It has to be worth it.” 

Personality Quirks:

Due to a bad habit to burn the candle at both ends and a genuine love of coffee, Lanif has a severe caffeine addiction. God help anyone who gets between him and his beans. Likewise, him brewing someone a cup of coffee is one of those nonverbal affection signs that have more weight behind them than people may realize. 

He also tried to keep up traditional cooking he learned as a child, but he’s had to adapt to Scalan’s tastes and ingredients - especially since Eraqus can’t handle anything spicier than paprika. 

Lanif’s keyblade is Blue Blooming Lotus. The hilt is carved dark wood, with a keychain dangle of a blue Egyptian water lily; the staff is a flat plank of dark river water suspended by magic; the ‘key’ is a tangle of blue Egyptian water lilies, which bloom when Lanif is happy, and revert back to buds when he’s upset.  Blue has long reach, low critical rate and high magic stats, with an innate skill of MP Hastaga.  Blue’s keyblade transformation is into a pair of floating water lilies Lanif uses as skates and a staff, with gameplay similar to the mobility and high magic potential of Sora’s Wisdom form, culminating in a Finish similar to Aqua’s Magic Pulse. 

Lanif tends to wear long sleeves and layers (usually jellabiya modified to match Scalan fashion, with high collars and tightened sleeves, but sometimes Scalan-style haori for formal events) because most worlds are cold compared to Black River Delta; he mostly wears black because even if being a goth hadn’t been invented in Scala yet, he is still a goth at heart.

His keyblade armor, likewise, is black with golden highlights. Since armor with animal motifs were popular among older keyblade wielders, he based his on the jackals native to Black River Delta. There was absolutely some point where he and Xine had an argument on if adding a tail would be ‘sick as hell’ vs ‘a liability in combat.’ (Xine won. No tails!!) 

Lanif’s summon, Anpu, is also a black jackal - a Persona, manifesting not an elemental being or a ghost but a reflection of his personality made manifest. Xine’s one of the few people who have gotten the full powerpoint presentation on what Anpu represents. She’s also quick to tease that as much as Anpu cut a dashing figure in public, if he got summoned for a long period or in private, he had a bad habit of begging for scraps off Lanif’s plate. 

Every few months, Lanif will head to Olympus or Mirage Arena to blow off steam at a tournament and also enjoy the company of the other contestants dot dot dot. Scala wouldn’t be too weird about the gay thing, but hooking up before marriage? Scandalous! 

Battle Music (as player character):  Rivers in the Desert - Persona 5 OST

Battle Music (as boss fight): Persona 3 - Battle For Everyone's Souls - Traditional Japanese Version - Hyuman

[br1ghtestlight]

because today is @seemoreseymoursbay minor and one-off character day i thought that i would share some of my thoughts and analysis on lily's younger brother ernest lombard. since he is a one-off character from season three and i have thought about him more than ANYBODY else in this fandom and that's a promise lol

he's five years younger than lily and alice got pregnant w/ him after billy returned from the war and they were kinda having a honeymoon 2.0 phase since she was so happy her husband was alive and safe. he was born in 1946

lily was VERY protective of her baby brother. he got picked on a lot by the neighborhood kids bcuz he was nerdy and kinda weak/feminine but because lily was older and not afraid of ANYTHING she would stand up for him against everybody at school and in their neighborhood. very louise and gene vibes in that sense (except lily actually is older than ernest lmao)

only alice and lily (and later bob when was born) called him ernie/uncle ernie. he did NOT like being compared to the sesame street character especially when he was a teenager. HE IS NOT A MUPPET >:(

he was more nerdy and shy/sensitive and kept to himself. not many friends outside of his sister and he mostly spent his childhood reading comic books and playing by himself in his bedroom. his parents were very understanding and supportive of him since they were both pretty progressive for their time in terms of gender roles

he LOVED superhero comics when he was a kid. still a secret passion of his as an adult and he collected them

he was devastated when his older sister moved away from home especially because he was going through his angsty high school years and he really needed her. they still phoned each other and wrote letters everyday and lily would visit when she was able <3

he was gay and it was really tough for him growing up in the 1950s and 60s with homosexuality not even being legalized. his family was as supportive as could possibly be expected for the time period (they didnt disown or abuse him) and lily didn't think any different of him when he told her (but she told him to kinda keep it on the down low for his safety) fortunately he lived in new york city so there was a bit of a community for him

he had a long term boyfriend throughout the 70s and 80s but unfortunately he died from aids/hiv during the crisis :( ernest never got into another relationship after that and that's why he died single with no kids. he also lost a lot of friendships it was really hard. poor guy!!!

never got along w/ big bob as he always felt that he was too cold/unloving/didnt talk enough and that he was stealing ernest's older sister from him (they started dating when ernest was like..... 14 so that teenage angst was expected) big bob would never be good enough for lily in his mind

he moved to new jersey with his bf when they were in their late 20s to be closer to lily & bob which is where he stayed until he died

he LOVED being an uncle and thought bob was so cute and funny and reminded him so much of himself at bob's age. absolutely adored the kid. unfortunately he stopped coming around as much when lily got sick so bob doesn't have too many memories of him :(

lily's death was really hard for him and he basically stopped talking to bob and big bob entirely after she died bcuz the reminder was too painful. bob tried to stay in contact but he was also a teenager so they just kinda..... fell out of touch. they hadn't talked in years when ernest died

he was always very empathetic and understanding towards people seen as different/unwanted by society due to being gay himself so he had a lot of sympathy and always tried to support homeless people drug addicts and the mentally ill etc. our differences do not define us type guy. he volunteered a lot at the homeless shelters after he retired and that's part of why he let chet stay in his storage unit for all those years (although chet actually WAS a seasonal employee at his department store) he felt real deep love and empathy for him </3 also protested the vietnam war with his big sis. very anti-racism compared to what was expected of white people at the time

always very quiet and socially awkward. it is true that bob got a lot of his personality from big bob but he got an equal amount from ernest tbh he just never knew him well enough to realize that about himself

tina also shares a lot of traits w/ ernest and had they known each other when he was alive i think they would have gotten along really well. he would have loved her erotic friend fiction and he actually wrote his own superhero comic fanfiction before that was an actual thing that ppl had a word for

always loved drawing but never very good at it. you could find doodles ALL over his tax stubs and receipts from work

he had a brief dream of becoming a comic book artist and he read all the new peanuts and archie comics when they released. billy would always bring them home from work for him to read

when he died he left pretty much everything he owned (which was.... not very much. he definitely wasn't very financially well-off after they bought out his department store to build the mall) to bob bcuz he was basically the only family that he had that was still alive. he never knew bob had kids but he did know about linda

he died of a heart attack in his 60s and nobody even found his body for a few days. his later years were very lonely