#“Oh and also the ghosts themselves. Totally nothing to worry about”

[starry-songs-canvas]

Take Care of Him

The boy, who had Damian’s face, couldn’t be more different than Dick’s (alive?) baby brother.

Aside from his Snow White hair, he smiled and laughed freely, making puns on top of his embarrassing story about his supposed twin brother.  

(“Clones don’t have childhood memories right?  So if I have an embarrassing story or two, that’ll give you a way to check that I’m not a clone AND give you ammunition for teasing!”)

“—And that’s how his face—and his pride—was forever wounded by Sparta the warrior cat!”  Danny finished his story with a flourish, cracking up immediately after.

“Huh, and to think he left it at “training”, obviously he didn’t think anyone would let the cat out of the bag.”  Dick said, laughing even as he eyed the lookalike.

Danny snorted.  “Yeah, I doubt he thought anything as Cat-astropic as that would happen.”

They sat in silence for a moment, overlooking the buildings below, with the Dalv. Co. Labs smoking in the distance and the breeze blowing past the two, yet only seeming to affect Nightwing and not the phantom beside him.

“Is he safe?  Is he happy?” Danny murmurs as he looks up at the stars, looking every bit the forlorn ghost he claimed to be.

“…We keep each other safe.  And I’d say once he got past the stabbing faze, he’s pretty happy in Gotham.”

“But I’m sure it’d make him happy to see you again.”  Dick thought back to the comments the vampire-ghost they’d fought earlier.  It didn’t sound exactly, “happy” or “safe” for Danny.  Or anyone else involved.

Danny shook his head.  “Nah.  He’s… moved on.  And with how crazy my after-life is?  I’m already dealing with ghosts, ghost-hunters, and my—err—that frootloop from earlier.  I do not need to add furries and murder-ninjas to the mix.”

Danny sighed as he floated into a standing position.  “Speaking of which, if you could just, maybe not tell him you saw me?  Better to let dead dogs lie.”

Danny’s piercing Lazarus green eyes looked at Dick and he saw the exact same expression B had on whenever he “had to do it alone”.

“Just, take care of him, Kay?  Or I’ll haunt you to the ends of the universe!”  He said, throwing up a peace sign as he turned invisible.

Dick snorted, “Yeah, sure kid.”

Dick got up and started off toward the bat-plane.  He had a brother to interrogate, and another brother/clone of his brother to find.

[icarus-suraki]

firework and dahlia?

firework: have you ever had a supernatural experience? I fucking wish. The closest thing I can think of was when I saw a "shadow person" run across a friend's backyard late one evening. I was supposed to go collected my brother's bike (or something like that) from our friend's backyard and I was standing at the top of the hill that sloped down into their backyard and I thought I saw this gray, shadowy man run from the trees on the right into the hedges on the left--a ways ahead of me, not immediately in front of me. At the time it reminded me of the 1990s Ninja Turtles when they would try to disguise themselves in trench coats and fedoras (such was the era and my age), now it reminds me a little of Peter Lorre in M. Just this…shadowy man, with his hat pulled low and his shoulders hunched, hurrying across my friend's backyard.

It did scare me, but mostly because I thought it could be a burglar or murderer--a very corporeal Bad Guy, you know? I wouldn't go get the bikes without a grown-up but I also didn't want to say what I'd seen because my parents were always telling me that I worried too much about this or that or the other. I'd say I thought I heard something and they'd just sigh and say with so much exasperation "What did you hear?" or "What did you think you heard?" So telling them "I think I saw a robber in [friend]'s backyard!" wasn't going to go over well.

The whole "shadow person" thing didn't come up until a few years later when I was in my early teens and got really into paranormal stuff (and, I am sorry to say, some New Age stuff). I figured my Peter Lorre ghost could be called a "shadow person," which does work as a nice kind of shorthand when talking to people who know paranormal lingo.

Oddly, only a year or two ago, I told my mom the story and we had a good laugh and she said that she'd seen The Hat Man (what she called him; not the same as The Hat Man from sleep paralysis) walking down a side aisle at church once. Our descriptions matched and everything and we had a good wonder about what it is in the brain that makes people see this fedora-wearing figure--whether it's cultural or physiological or suggestion or what (nothing supernatural/paranormal because we're both skeptics). I told her story to some fans of all things paranormal and they were a bit baffled. "I've never heard of him going into a church…" Yeah, well, now you have.

Anyway, I guess that's the closest I've got, unless you count me asking Saint Aidan to hold back the tide just long enough, just long enough, so I could get to Lindisfarne because I would have to get there that afternoon or not at all and I actually got there. (Did I leave a decent donation in the box at the chapel despite being nearly broke? Yeah, I did.)

Oh, and except for all the times I was trying to get a cosplay put together in time for a con and I kept hollering at one of the main characters from the series to "help a bitch out!!" when shit was going wrong and that seems to have helped. Does that count?

I hear about other people's supernatural and paranormal experiences around here on Tumblr and I'm just like damn, I want that. "Oh yeah, I see the Fae all the time. It's cool." TEACH ME YOUR WAYS, DAMN IT.

dahlia: describe your ideal house / apartment This is so hard because it changes all the time. No, seriously:

Sometimes I'm like, yes, I want a tiny little cottage in the woods. And then I'm like, actually, I want a super-contemporary apartment. And then, actually, I want a super-cheap, possibly-haunted $90,000 traditional-style house in Japan (how cool would that be?). And then, wait, no, I want a weird hyper-modern Kerala-style house. Wait, no, maybe something totally PoMo--a house or an apartment, either way. A tiny house cottage would be neat, if it’s large enough and not on wheels. Or maybe a cottage that deserves to be on a historic register, something with half-timbers. Or I'll take a 1970s faux Tudor, if it suits me. Maybe I do just want a house like the one I grew up in. Or maybe I want the actual house I grew up in. But that would require me to take care of a yard, so maybe a funky renovated factory-turned-apartments with exposed brick and Edison bulbs so everyone knows I'm fucking hipster on the inside. Black-and-white minimalism appeals to me sometimes but then so does balls-to-the-wall maximalism. Occasionally I'll see an Italianate-style house (accurate or not) and I just fall for it--we've got a handful of Italianate, Spanish Colonial, and French (Normandy and Provençal) style houses around here and I love them. I have a mental list of favorite "ugly houses" in my area that are just…weird in some way that makes me love them. There are a few of these oddly dark brown houses with green shutters in some of the 1970s-era neighborhoods that I didn't like until I went to Switzerland in 2004 and suddenly I'm like "Swiss house yessss." Sometimes I see fucking…movie sets and I'm like "yeah, that's my house."

Like, even McMansions have their charm because they're so fucking awful. If you just lean into the fuckery, it becomes camp and kitsch. Stop pretending it's Fine Craftsmanship and just embrace the Weird.

But all of that is architecture and style. My Ideal Place to Live is a place that's mine. Ideally, it gets sufficient natural light that I can make it through the winter and has AC and is close to the places I need to go. But, really, I'd like a place that I can mess around with--paint walls or change floors or emphasize something weird about it.

But seeing as I'm a Millennial, I won't have to worry about any of this :)

Summertime asks!

[softieskywalker]

I've had this in my head but like. Au where anakin doesn't turn but padmé still dies and everything goes to shit bc palps is the worst, and Anakin is forced to go on the run. As much as he wants to take both twins (and nearly murders the green gremlin for suggesting to separate them), he understands that having them together would be like holding up a huge sign above their heads saying "I'm right here!!!".

So he begrudgingly lets Bail take Leia, but not before making him PROMISE that he'll make sure nothing happens to her. Because if something does, if Leia is found out or captured - anything, Anakin Skywalker WILL make him regret everything. Bail agrees, because he would never forgive himself either if anything happened to Padmé's child (the girl he comes to love fiercely as his own). There's a strange sense of understanding between two grieving men.

Anakin tries to hope that he's doing the right thing despite the horrible pain in his heart at being separated from his daughter, and leaves to go into hiding with Luke and Obi-wan. At first, they fully planned to go to Tatooine since Anakin's hatred for the planet was well known, but his anxiety and fear over the fact that Palpatine KNOWS how he thinks (how to get into his head-) causes them to change direction. Instead, they bypass Tatooine and head to Lothal - masquerading as refugees, trying to find a better life.

Anakin and Obi-wan change their names to hide their identities, introducing themselves as brothers, and Anakin quickly becomes the local handyman/mechanic while Obi-wan helps handle their finances and other things (like making sure they aren't found out). Luke grows up on Lothal and eventually befriends another boy around his age named Ezra, who occasionally comes over for mealtimes.

(Obi-wan and Anakin don't exactly know the specifics of Ezra's home situation, only that his parents were taken by the Empire, but they make sure he knows he's always welcome at their place for a warm meal and a place to stay the night.)

Eventually, the events of Rebels happen. When Ezra goes with the ghost and basically disappears for the most part from Lothal (aside from missions), Luke is understandably worried about his best friend. Ezra also sees the holocron of Obi-wan and is like "Huh. you know what? This guy looks kind of familiar?" *totally not realizing that his best friends uncle is the same dude*

At some point the Ghost Crew accidentally kidnap Luke when being chased by imperials, leaving Anakin to have a complete meltdown when he realizes Luke is moving off planet, and chase after them with Obi-wan whose cursing the Skywalker Luck(tm) and trying to prevent Anakin from murdering people in his mad dash to get his sonboy and sonboys best friend back.

i read this this morning and then completely forgot, sorry!

I absolutely ADORE this idea and I can SEE Kanan's face of absolute terror/awe when The Hero With No Fear bursts into the Ghost with murder intentions to rescue Sonboy and Sonboy's bestie, closely followed by legendary Master Kenobi trying to stop him from killing everyone first and asking questions later.

Imagine, Anakin with his lightsaber out, ready to kill everyone, and suddenly Luke runs up to him like "Daddy!!! 😍✨💕" Ezra closely behind like "Oh hi Mr. Naberrie!" (I'm adding the headcanon that Anakin takes Padmé's name as cover) and he just melts into the floor hugging sonboy. Obi Wan smiling at Hera and Kanan like Yes This Is Normal Don't Worry About It.

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Now I want the story where NMJ is half war god and NHS is half fox spirit, thank you so much xD

based on this tumblr post and Lao Nie’s decision to refer to WRH as A-Han in this one ficlet

on ao3

Nie Zonghui had long ago suspected that his Sect Leader was a madman, but he didn’t really know it for certain until the first time he lost the man while on a bodyguarding mission – his first, and a great honor. 

Supposedly.

“It’s all right,” his father said, looking long-suffering, when he reported back in distress. “He’s an adult, our sect leader, and this is a small city with no major threats in the middle of some idiosyncratic festival celebration for some goddess or another. How much damage can he really do before he sobers up?”

Nie Zonghui stared at his father, then turned to his mother, who was also staring at her husband with an expression of sincere incredulity.

“Lots,” she supplied. “Lots and lots and lots, and that’s assuming he doesn’t get himself killed in the meantime. Why would you even say that?”

“He’s our sect leader, have some respect.”

“I respect the boss bull of the herd, too, but it doesn’t mean I let it go wandering around the fields wherever it pleases!” She shook her head, snorting in a manner not entirely unlike a bull herself. “Well, if we’re very lucky, maybe our cousin will knock up a cow while he’s out and about rather than just breaking things. We could use a direct heir already; he’s not getting any younger.”

“We could use him being properly married is what we could use. I don’t understand why he’s so resistant – ah, Zonghui, you’re still here? Go gather some cultivators and go look for him, but don’t kick up any fuss, and worry too much if you can’t find him at once. He’ll be back to business soon enough.”

He was, if by “soon enough” one meant “after nearly ten days” and by “back to business” one meant “still drunk off his ass and waxing rhapsodic about some girl he met and possibly married”.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure the sun shines out of her ass,” Nie Zonghui’s father said, his face stormy. “You still could’ve told us where you went. Look what you did to poor Zonghui, he’s been wearing down his heels pacing in worry over you!”

“Oh, heels, yes, did I mention that my gorgeous goddess had amazing legs, too?” their sect leader asked with a soppy smile and stars in his eyes, totally uninterested in any of their petty complaints. “She could kill a man with them – oh, but I would die a happy man between those thighs…!”

“Zonghui, go guard the outside door,” his mother told him. “Also, tell his younger sister that she might need to be sect leader sooner than she’d hoped, because I’m going to murder this fucking –”

-

Nie Zonghui was there, too, when ten months later his new little baby cousin was (metaphorically) ditched on their doorstep.

The entire thing was entirely too dramatic for his taste, and yes, he was aware that as a person who chose to dual wield sabers he had very little room to criticize others for being overly dramatic, however correct he might be.

They had been fighting bandits – barely disguised mercenaries, really, probably paid off by the Wen sect to harass them – in what had turned into a particularly bad situation. Three separate regiments had joined together to take advantage of a terrible thunderstorm and ambush them at all once and them with their backs against a raging river, swollen with rain to the precipice of flooding, with no way to retreat except by fleeing on their sabers, abandoning the common people they were protecting and losing all face. 

The sect leader had been raging on the battlefield, saber in hand, but even he had seen that they would need to shortly choose between death and dishonor; Nie Zonghui, close by his side, had seen how his face was split with a terrible scowl as he wracked his brain for more options.

Then there had been a terrible roar of thunder, and then a flash of light that had blinded them all.

Nie Zonghui had immediately noted the anomality of it, thunder first and lightning second, and wondered it if it was some sort of array working against them, especially when the light had not faded away but grown brighter, causing searing pain in his eyes that made him fall and clutch at his face. But he was a good soldier, loyal and true, and he forced his eyes open to squint into the night, looking to see he did not know what.

Through his sun-blindness, he vaguely thought he could see a silhouette not unlike that of a woman, ten feet tall and radiant as the sun, wearing a dress of nine colors and carrying a guandao in her hand that seemed to reach the clouds, but when he blinked again he saw nothing at all.

Or, well, he did see something: all of their enemies were headless, no matter where on the battlefield they were, their bodies dropping like a loosened string of coins where they had been standing and splattering anyone they were fighting with blood as they gawped at the sudden corpses.

Also, the sect leader was suddenly holding something in his arms when he hadn’t been before.

“What’s that?” Nie Zonghui asked, and the sect leader turned towards him. Nie Zonghui squinted, and suddenly wondered if this entire battle had been a very bad dream. “…is that a baby?”

“Yes,” the sect leader said, grinning broadly. “He’s my son!”

“He’s your what,” Nie Zonghui said.

“My son! I didn’t know about him, of course – apparently he came as something of a surprise to her as well – but anyway she thought that it would be more appropriate for me to raise him, all things considered. A baby doesn’t quite fit her lifestyle. What do you think of ‘Mingjue’ as a courtesy name? Good, yes?”

Nie Zonghui suddenly understood why his parents were always cursing all the time.

-

“I don’t see why I need another wife,” the sect leader said. “I already have a son.”

“Don’t you want to give said son a mother?” Nie Zonghui’s mother asked, her arms crossed. “One that isn’t the Dark Lady of the Nine Heavens, the war goddess you somehow managed to knock up without getting killed?”

“She never specified that she was –”

“Someone needs to be Nie-furen,” the sect leader’s younger sister interrupted, “because I am sick and tired of doing the job, and it’s a little difficult to ask a goddess to do it. So you are going to find yourself another one that’s a little closer to the ground this time, you understand me?”

The sect leader nodded and agreed, which was universally agreed upon to be the only appropriate reaction when his beloved meimei said something in that particular tone of voice.

(He did, after a suitable period of time, state that he wanted to make clear that there was no actual evidence that he had knocked up Jiutian Xuannü and that it was quite plausible that the mother of his heir was nothing more than a rogue cultivator of particular strength and possibility even immortality. If Baosan Sanren had managed it, why not someone else?)

At any rate, they brought him several pictures of women that might fit the bill and who would not be too offended at being asked to be a secondary wife – their sect leader swore up and down that he had performed bows with the mother of his first son, rendering him legitimate, and anyway no one was in the mood to see if the maybe-a-goddess would take offense to someone calling her child a bastard – but none seemed to catch their sect leader’s interest.

“Consider visiting a few brothels,” Nie Zonghui’s great-uncle suggested. “Anything to get you back in the habit of thinking about women of a less divine nature – though of course we’d prefer that she be literate.”

The sect leader scowled and stalked off to go night-hunting instead.

“I don’t like brothels,” he said to Nie Zonghui as they made their way through an especially deserted mountain valley in search of something that had murdered all the local mensfolk in the surrounding villages with especial viciousness. “Surely there’s an option in between.”

Nie Zonghui preferred his sabers to either men or women, but he obediently wracked his brain to think of where people in stories and famous songs found their wives. “Innkeeper’s daughters?” he finally suggested.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the sect leader scoffed, but the very next day, he decided to break his usual habit of staying out in the wild no matter the weather in favor of taking shelter from the encroaching storm in a small inn right at the base of an especially lonesome and nasty-looking cliff.

“We’re always happy to have guests,” the innkeeper said with a somewhat sinister smile – he was pale as a ghost in the guttering candlelight, and his lips looked very red. “My daughter will show you to your rooms.”

The daughter in question was inhumanly beautiful: small and graceful, with a fox’s face and dark hair that fell to her knees.

“Wow,” the sect leader said, staring at her. “You know, I think you could kill me with those nails of yours.”

Nie Zonghui took a look and agreed with the sentiment, seeing that her nails were as long as claws and looked just as sharp, but apparently he and the sect leader had somewhat different interpretations of this sequence of events and plans on how to address it.

Namely, Nie Zonghui pointed out that the lady was obviously some sort of yao or maybe a gui and that she was probably the one seducing the local mensfolk, draining their yang energy and then slaughtering them, and therefore that it was undoubtedly their duty as cultivators – and cultivators of the Nie sect in particular – to put an end to her vile deeds through the swift application of their sabers. Furthermore, he explained, they should take care never to allow themselves to be alone with her in the process, lest she seek to entrance them with her seductive magics and lure them to their undoubtedly violent deaths.

The sect leader’s rebuttal to this line of logic was limited to “I’m the sect leader and if I want to bang the probably-a-ghost, I’m going to bang the ghost and there’s nothing you can do to stop me”.

Amazingly enough, the sect leader did not end up dead the next day – the innkeeper looked just as surprised as Nie Zonghui felt – and instead announced, very happily, that he was planning on marrying her.

“You what,” the innkeeper said, staring at his very smug-looking ‘daughter’. In light of dawn, she was wearing a dress of many colors with a foxfur ruff, and her beauty was almost painful to behold.

“You why,” Nie Zonghui moaned.

“You shut up,” the sect leader told him. “I’ll have you know that my lady here is very clever, literate and well-learned, and she doesn’t at all mind being the second wife. Weren’t you one of the ones on my case about getting a Nie-furen to help managing things back home?”

“I didn’t think we needed to specify that the person in question didn’t murder a lot of people!”

“Isn’t his first wife supposedly a war goddess?” the lady inquired, her clever eyes dancing in amusement.

“Well…yes…”

“Also, all those men deserved it,” she said. After a brief pause, she added, “In my opinion as a totally unrelated observer, of course.”

“See?” the sect leader said, putting his arm around her waist. “No problem. Anyway, she’ll stick to killing bad people from now on, it’s fine.”

The lady smiled. There were many teeth in that smile, and they were very sharp.

“If she doesn’t, I’ll have my first wife discipline her,” the sect leader added and her smile abruptly disappeared.

Nie Zonghui coughed into his hand, but reluctantly admitted that maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as all that.

-

“Huaisang is a lovely name,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, being the best of them at diplomacy when she put her mind to it, although admittedly it was something she did only very rarely. “I think we were just expecting something a little different, that’s all.”

“Possibly something a little more fox related,” Nie Zonghui’s father said.

“Please,” the sect leader’s second wife said. “That would be gauche.”

They looked at her.

“…all of my suggestions along those lines got rejected,” she admitted, and glared at the small shrine in the corner as if it had personally wronged her. In this context, it very well might have.

“Is there anything we should keep an eye out for?” Nie Zonghui said, watching his little cousin carry around his even littler cousin under his arm as if he were a sack of potatoes and not a baby that hadn’t yet had its first month celebration. He would have interfered but for the fact that little Nie Huaisang seemed to be notably more in control of his various limbs than the usual infant. “A tail, for instance?”

“Oh, no,” the second lady said. “Nothing like that.”

“Great,” Nie Zonghui said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“It’s very rare for fox children to achieve a grand plot worthy of a tail in their first lifetime.” A pause. “From what I understand, that is.”

“Great,” Nie Zonghui said. “…great.”

“You’ll take good care of him when I’m gone, won’t you?” she asked, and when they all looked at her, smiled. “Not for another year or two, don’t worry, but I really can’t stay here that long. Sometimes, a girl’s got urges she has to take care of.”

“The sort of urges where we’d need to hunt down a mysteriously appearing fox yao for having murdered a lot of people?”

“I already promised to stop killing people,” she said sulkily. “Although I do think I made some plausible arguments in favor of a little bit of entirely justified murder in connection with the Jin sect and maybe the Lan sect and, oh, the Jiang sect –”

“Please don’t.”

“It’s not my fault your Great Sects are all headed by men who wrong women.”

“You’re not wrong,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, and Nie Zonghui’s father looked alarmed. “But still, don’t.”

“You’re such spoilsports. But no, as it happens, it’s getting to that time when I need to return home for a while to pay my respects to the older generation.”

“How often does that happen?” Nie Zonghui’s father asked. “Once a century?”

“A gentleman shouldn’t ask a lady her age,” she sniffed. “At any rate, my family home is rather far away and they’re fairly insular, so I’ll probably be gone for at least a decade or so. I’d take the baby with me, but, well, you know, long travel and all. He’s better off sticking with his father.”

“All right,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said. “We understand, and we’ll help take care of him as best we can.”

“I’m glad.”

“We have only one thing to ask of you in return.”

Their second lady arched her delicate eyebrows.

Nie Zonghui’s mother smiled. “You be the one to tell your sister-in-law that you’re leaving your post.”

“…you know, on second thought, maybe I can push my departure out a few more years…”

-

“Before you say anything, I want to be clear right now that I don’t need a third wife,” their sect leader said. “I’m fine.”

“Sect Leader,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, not unaffectionately. “You’re not allowed a third wife.”

“And therefore – wait, really?” he asked, a little skeptically. “You’re not concerned about me?”

“Oh, we’re very concerned about you,” Nie Zonghui’s father said. “But not in that specific respect. Some celibacy would probably be good for you, at least in terms of increasing your life expectancy.”

“…my sister is lying in wait with a cleaver to make sure she doesn’t have to take on the duties of Nie-furen again, isn’t she.”

“I’m not discounting that possibility, but don’t worry about it, it’s fine, we’ll talk to her. The Lan sect haven’t had a proper hostess in years either, we can just say we’re following their example.”

The sect leader eyed his cousins beadily. “They haven’t had a proper sect leader in years, either.”

“No, you don’t say,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said dryly. “What a coincidence -”

“You have two fine sons,” Nie Zonghui’s father said hastily. “That seems like enough, really.”

“You don’t think they need a mother…?”

“Sect Leader,” Nie Zonghui interjected politely. “While we admit that it may be within your capabilities to be able to find a mother willing to deal with one step-son who has been waiving around a saber taller than he is since he learned to walk and has a penchant for the unyielding, unmerciful and very violent application of the norms of divine justice –”

Nie Mingjue’s presence bolstered the spirit of good men, while his gaze seemed to make evildoers itch. He was the most earnestly good person Nie Zonghui had ever met, and also one of the most stiff and unbending in respect to what he believed should and should not be done.

Unfortunate that his standards didn’t seem to match up to the needs of either human law or diplomacy…

“– as well as another who can scheme circles around anyone and persuade them of anything as long as he puts his mind to it and only doesn’t because he’s too busy lazing around in the sun to bother –”

Nie Huaisang liked to file his nails down to something that looked quite normal, but they grew sharp quickly enough if he wasn’t paying attention, and he had a penchant for pranks. There was nothing quite as unnerving as running into a sudden and unexpected ambush and then suddenly hearing the shrill peal of a fox’s laughter, hidden behind a scholarly fan.

“– but all things considered, we’d really rather you - didn’t.”

His mother and father nodded fervently.

“Good,” the sect leader said, though he still looked suspiciously at them as if he thought they were hiding something. “Good. As long as we’re agreed.”

-

Nie Zonghui walked in on his sect leader pinning the Wen sect leader to a wall, murmuring something in a low voice with a very particular smile on his face, and then he turned around and walked right back out again.

The sect leader of the Wen sect might appear beautiful and young, but he was at least a generation older than the Nie sect leader. Not that that had stopped the latter from relying on their respective positions to refer to him in startlingly intimate terms – my dear A-Han, the sect leader would say with a touch of wickedness that reminded one of his second son and the tiger gall bravery of his first – and while at first the Wen sect leader had taken it as a challenge to his authority, an act of brash insolence, it appeared that they had progressed beyond that.

That the Wen sect leader already had three wives and two concubines apparently didn’t present any obstacles either – except perhaps in what those poor women might have to endure from their husband when he returned from the wretched teasing he was enduring. Nie Zonghui felt a bit of pity for them.

Shortly thereafter, he felt a bit of pity for himself. The Wen sect had long dreamed of dominating the cultivation world and sought to increase their influence with the other sects through underhanded means, with the Nie sect opposing them at every turn. Even if war was not on the immediate horizon, the wise could smell its distant approach in the air - the best estimates said that it would take another decade or two to arrive, unless the Nie sect leader took an especially hard stance.

It appeared, however, that the Nie sect leader had chosen to take a different sort of…hard stance.

Ugh.

Maybe Nie Zonghui could conspire to throw his sect leader into a cage with a live tiger in heat next time he felt in the mood. It’d probably be less dangerous.

Nie Zonghui had assumed that the first person to talk to him about what he had seen would be his sect leader, even if it was only to remind him of the general rule that the sect leader had ultimate power and therefore could exercise his own bad judgment in deciding to fuck whoever he wished, but instead it was the Wen sect leader that found him later that afternoon.

A flush had yet to fully fade from his cheeks, and Nie Zonghui raised his eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking directly at the man in front of him. 

He did not want to know. Others might, given that no one had ever complained about the looks of either party, but he himself had realized long ago that he had no interest in matters of the flesh under any circumstances; he was very content with that conclusion.

“Is there some service this one can provide to Sect Leader Wen?” he asked politely, and it was only when the sect leader flushed again that he realized belatedly that his words could be misconstrued. After all, his own sect leader had probably already made a similar offer regarding the provision of services…

“Your sect leader has a sister, doesn’t he?” the other man asked, his voice tight and his hands in even tighter fists. “I’m not misremembering that?”

“He does,” Nie Zonghui responded honestly, and not without sympathy for the Wen sect leader’s position. He was given to understand that making certain belated discoveries regarding one’s own preferences could be highly disconcerting, particularly later in life. “But she’s rather different in kind than what you may be thinking, so it won’t work out that way. It wouldn’t work even if she wasn’t already married, which she is.”

After a moment of thought, he added, “Also, consider your predecessors.”

The Wen sect leader’s eyes narrowed.

-

Really, it was the sect leader’s own damn fault that he got himself murdered.

[doctorofmagic]

Hello!! Hope you're doing good and hope I'm not bothering you. First of all I'm a fan of yours so I know your feelings towards the MCU so please feel free to not answer to this ask if you don't want to. I swear it's not a problem at all ❤️ but I'm a bit lost rn. I'm trying to understand how wandavision/Loki will effect DSIMOM but it's complicated :( I understand that probably you don't feel like explaining all that (don't even know if you actually watched it tbh 🤔) but idk... maybe you have a friend/mutal here on Tumblr or Twitter that explained all that crap??? Sorry again but I'm a bit desperate lmao

Greetings, anon!

Oh, don't worry! You don't bother me at all! I appreciate your trust in me to answer your question, and even though I'm not entirely invested, I'm still watching everything. I'm not sure I'm the most qualified person but I can try? Let's go.

Disclaimer: WandaVision (MCU), Loki (MCU) and Secret Wars (comics) spoilers

Okay, so, first things first. The Marvel universe in comics is called 616, but there are endless other alternate realities/universes. The total of these universes is called a multiverse. Have you ever watched Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse? It's almost the same. On Earth-616, Gwen died. But in an alternate reality where she was bitten by the spider (not Peter), she became the Spider-Gwen/Spider-Ghost.

The problem is, the multiverse demands some balance in order to preserve the space-time continuum. If you mess with time, space OR reality (WandaVision), it's very likely that this delicate fabric will crumble. I found it odd that WandaVision never brought this to the table, but yeah. In comics, time travels are very dangerous because they can alter the whole timeline (as also seen in Loki). This is why Doctor Doom, despite mastering the time travel, doesn't interfere anymore with the timeline. And save this name because he's directly related to Kang. More on that later.

In the MCU, the multiverse already exists, as Kang explained during the war of Kangs. Let's say, mmm, have you ever watched Rick and Morty? There's a council of Ricks, a group of 5 Ricks from alternate realities who tried to regulate the other Ricks in the multiverse. In comics, and apparently in the MCU, there was also a council of Kangs (and a council of Reeds, and a council of Dooms). Each one of those have different goals, but I assure you, they're up to no good.

But who is Kang and why do I keep talking about Reed and Victor von Doom? Because no one truly knows who Kang is, but both Victor and Kang suspect they're the same person, only Kang is from the future and Victor hasn't become him yet. There's also the possibility that Kang is also related to Reed (and his father Nathaniel Richards). Thing is, we don't know haha. It's a cool mystery we have around the FF lore.

In Loki, the One Who Remains explained that he won the war of Kangs and isolated his own timeline in order to prevent opening the multiverse again so the other Kangs won't spread war across the multiverse. When Sylvie kills him and his actions to preserve the timeline are no more, the timelines open all at once, which is problematic to the fabric of space-time.

There's nothing wrong with alternate realities, but since everything happened at once, some timelines are colliding.

Do you see some of the lines intersecting? THIS IS WHERE THE PROBLEM LIES.

When two alternate realities intersect, two different worlds may collapse. This is what happened in Secret Wars (2015) by Jonathan Hickman. It's called Incursion, when an alternate Earth suddenly appears in the 616 universe and if one of them is not destroyed, they collid and everything dies.

Now, I don't think we're getting a Secret Wars adaption for the MCU (yet). What I think it's happening is, these worlds are intersecting and mixing it up. This is why No Way Home will feature characters from different Spidey movies (perhaps even the Peters themselves). Because some of these timelines are touching the MCU universe.

And this is problematic why? Again, because the space-time continuum is delicate and reality may crumble. Everything will die. The existence itself.

See, I'm not sure how deep the MCU will exploit that but it's quite dangerous. And this is where our poor good doctor comes in. He's not responsible for protecting the whole multiverse, not even the TVA was doing that (they're merely protecting the MCU timeline, isolating it from the multiverse). But he sworn to protect HIS reality. And HIS reality is in jeopardy because the worlds are colliding. So he will probably take Wanda because she can fix reality (hopefully, she won't ruin it any further because of her children lmao). I think she will the bandage, sealing the rifts in the space-time continuum (another good example for this plot is Gravity Falls. This is what Ford was trying to do in order to protect their reality from Bill Cipher, and there's also the concept of multiverse). Stephen probably knew what she did and thought of taking her to fix these intersecting points with her chaos magic.

In the meantime, they can travel across the Multiverse thanks to America Chavez's powers. She can create portals to travel through realities. This is probably how things are related and connected.

Yes, it's a very complicated concept. But I sure love it. I may be wrong, tho. I never know how the MCU will adapt these stories and this is why I don't speculate anymore. I'm tired of wasting my energy on something that will never happen /rip

Lastly, a few concepts that may help you:

- Dimension = different places that coexist in the same universe, but are located in different planes. I.e., the Dark Dimension, the several versions of Hell, Earth, Asgard and the other realms. They are all part of the same universe/reality, which means there are alternate Asgards, Earths and so on. This is why we see so many variant Lokis. They're from alternate universes.

- Universe = a set of different dimensions in a given time-space point. Example: the MCU universe, the 616 universe, the ultimate universe and so on.

- Multiverse = a set of all universes.

- Timeline = a point in space-time where said universe is located.

Ooooof, I hope this post didn't make you more confused instead of enlighten you haha. If you're still confused, I can recommend a friend of mine who's also a hardcore Stephen stan, but we were also having the same talk about this and we came to this same conclusion so...

[when-they-write-stuff]

SterekWeek2020: Day Seven (Halloween)

(so late, but finally here!)

~

Derek was acting strange.

And yeah, Stiles supposed he really shouldn’t be that surprised. Derek was always acting strange in some way or another, it seemed like. For a man who had basically built his reputation on the idea that he was this big scary werewolf, Derek Hale had shown himself to be a lot more complex than that.

But the point was, Derek Hale was acting strange. And Stiles didn’t know why.

It started with the little things. Things like Derek vanishing out of nowhere and coming back to the loft much later in ruffled clothes and a pleased expression on his face. Stiles had asked the betas on multiple occasions what the hell was happening, but none of them ever seemed to know.

Or really care, for that matter. Erica would shrug and drag Boyd off to her room for some ‘alone’ time and Isaac would proceed to wrap himself in blankets and hog the TV, the volume up much too loud to cover up what Stiles could only assume were sounds he was glad he didn’t have the enhancements to hear.

Sometimes, there were perks to being human.

Derek always came back, of course. The first time he’d vanished, Stiles had been over helping Isaac with his homework— something Scott had roped them into. It had started as a pack study group, except then the young Alpha had gotten back together with Allison and spent more time at her house than at the loft anymore.

It didn’t help that Isaac needed the help, too. And Stiles would like to say that he had a heart of gold, thank you very much, and was kind enough to never abandon the beta.

Also, he got to hang around Derek— er, the other betas. At the loft. Nothing else.

The one downside was Peter.

When Stiles had asked him about Derek’s mysterious getaways, Peter had only smirked over the top of his book. And Stiles knew the asshole knew exactly where Derek kept going, but he was very conveniently keeping that information to himself.

Which made Stiles feel a little less bad when he spent time at the loft pretending Peter didn’t exist. 

The first time Derek had vanished out of nowhere, Stiles had waited until the man came back. And Derek had come through the loft door hours later, shirtless and in ripped pants, looking like he’d gotten into a fight with a mountain lion and lost. But when Stiles had bombarded him with questions, refusing to leave until he got some sort of answer, Derek had just shrugged and locked himself in his room, leaving Stiles alone in the silent loft.

He’d tried to get Derek to talk since, he really had. Stiles had even attempted to follow the man once, but he’d only made it to the preserve before he lost Derek among the trees.

It was probably werewolf stuff, Scott had said. He didn’t seem very intrigued that Derek was living a secret second life, but Stiles supposed he hadn’t expected the boy to be. He just wanted someone to be as curious as he was and the betas were a bust, Scott was too obsessed with Allison, and when Stiles had tried to bring it up with Lydia, she’d proceeded to turn around and walk away.

It was Derek’s business, she’d said. Which… yeah. But still. Stiles was confused.

Months ended up passing since that very first day. Derek continued to act strange on certain days and go on mini-vacations, and Stiles continued to be utterly lost. It wasn’t until he’d nearly given up that things finally changed.

It was Halloween night when Stiles finally figured out Derek’s little secret.

He knew the betas planned to go around town in their beta forms, scaring the crap out of little kids, but Stiles had already decided he wasn’t going with them. Because when someone inevitably called the cops and Stiles’s dad showed up, he was not going to be the betas scapegoat.

No, Stiles planned on hanging out at the loft with the others to watch scary movies. Derek had been a little stubborn when Lydia first volunteered his place to meet up, but the man had eventually given in. Even Derek Hale knew better than to argue with Lydia Martin.

And Stiles totally wasn't looking forward to spending time at Derek’s loft. Totally not at all.

He might’ve been a little.

Except Derek wasn’t at the loft when Stiles arrived.

“Okay,” Stiles said, coming back into the main room after doing a thorough search of the loft. “Where the hell is our mighty Alpha?”

“Why does it matter?” Scott asked, looking confused. He was curled up on the couch with Allison, and she didn’t look too worried either. From where she sat in the other chair, Lydia didn’t even glance up from her phone.

“He’s gone,” Stiles said. “Again. Doesn’t that ever strike any of you as strange?”

“Not really,” Scott said. Allison shrugged.

“Maybe he's out doing something.”

“Like?”

She glanced at Scott, who shook his head. “Keeping an eye on the betas?”

“Derek doesn’t babysit the betas,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure he’d sooner eat his own hand.”

“Gross, Stiles,” Lydia said, making a face. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You know it’s true. He’s gone again. On Halloween night. What the hell is more important than scary movies and candy on Halloween night?”

“Why do you care so much?” Lydia said, a familiar glint in her green eyes. It was that knowing look she’d gotten the first time Stiles had complained about Derek’s antics. Glaring at her, Stiles fished out his keys and started toward the loft door, grabbing his hoodie from the back of the nearest chair.

“I don’t,” he said. “But the asshole is being weird and I’m going to go figure out what he’s doing.”

“Oh, come on, Stiles,” Scott called. “You’re going to miss the movie!”

“There’s plenty of time to watch scary movies tonight,” Stiles said, waving a hand over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

Stiles was pretty sure Scott started to say something else, but he didn’t stick around to listen. 

And yeah, maybe Derek’s business was Derek’s business or whatever. But Stiles was pretty damn curious and he’d had enough. The man was hiding something from them and for some reason, nobody else seemed to care.

What if he was in trouble? Secretly dying? Had an embarrassing hobby that Stiles totally wanted to know about?

The possibilities were endless.

He wasn’t exactly sure where to go looking for the man. The preserve was usually Derek’s go-to when Stiles attempted to follow him, but that never ended well. One time, he’d ditched the Camaro on the side of the road and literally disappeared— and Stiles hadn’t even known what to think about that.

Maybe Derek was also part ghost. A werewolf alpha ghost.

Okay, maybe not.

Stiles ended up deciding to do a quick drive of the town. Because if Derek really was being a ‘disproving Alpha’ to the betas, then he might as well find out before wasting his night looking for one grumpy-growly werewolf. And maybe he could get to see Derek chew them out too.

That was always amusing.

There were already tons of people out, even though it wasn’t that dark yet. Stiles wasn’t really sure where the betas would go, but he may or may not have put a tracker into Isaac’s phone the first time Isaac let him borrow it. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the boy or anything, but Derek’s betas always seemed to be getting themselves in trouble. And Stiles knew there was no way he was ever getting his hands on the phones of the other two.

He’d put a tracker in Derek’s too, if he could only figure out what the man’s freaking password was. It wasn’t like Derek was good at technology but damn, if the man didn’t know how to keep unwanted visitors out of his phone.

Isaac’s phone placed him all the way across town. In one of Beacon Hills larger neighborhoods, probably scaring the crap out of innocent little kids, if Stiles was right.

He was.

He caught sight of the betas almost immediately— and quickly ducked down. Because Stiles hadn’t gone with them for a reason, remember? And that reason was looking at him right in the face in the form of flashing police lights and Stiles’s dad looking disappointed, giving the betas the chewing-out that Stiles had kind of hoped to see Derek giving.

The grumpy Alpha, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight. Stiles did spot a small group of trick-or-treaters and their parents watching, though. 

And a giant black dog, standing a little ways away from the flashing lights.

Stiles tilted his head, watching the dog curiously. He couldn’t make out a collar, but it seemed well-behaved enough, sitting on someone's lawn and watching the betas get lectured. It almost looked… interested. In a scarily human way.

Suddenly, dark amber eyes were locked on his own and then the dog was watching him.

Stiles jerked, hitting his elbow on the steering wheel with a curse. And when he looked back, rubbing at his funny bone, the dog was gone.

As if it had never been there.

Stiles stared for another long moment before shaking his head, wondering faintly if he was going crazy.

He drove off before he could get caught by one of the betas or worse, his dad, determined to have nothing to do with them being idiots. At this point, it was much darker, and Stiles figured he was never going to find Derek unless the man wanted to be found.

Which clearly, he didn’t.

So Stiles headed home, deciding to grab a few of his favorite horror movies before heading back to the loft. He’d probably already missed the first one, but that wasn’t a big loss. Scott had brought it and the boy had terrible taste in movies. 

He still hadn’t seen Star Wars yet.

Stiles hadn’t spent Halloween at home since his mom’s death. Before, they used to decorate the house and hand out candy, but things changed when she passed. And Stiles wasn’t a little kid anymore. His dad worked Halloween night anyway, and Stiles hated to be alone in the silence, so he usually ended up going to the McCall’s instead of hanging out alone. 

Or, that’s what he’d done before the pack. Before he had other people to spend the holidays with.

Stiles would never admit out loud how much he kind of loved it.

Which brought him back to his sour mood and the fact that Derek wasn’t around tonight. Stiles didn’t think he’d be so offended if the man would just tell one of them what he was doing. It wasn’t like he was worried about the asshole or whatever, but… it’d be nice to know.

That’s all it was.

Stiles grabbed a few movies, a bag of chips (because Derek never had any good snacks around), and headed back out into the night to see a large black dog sitting on his lawn.

The large black dog.

Stiles froze, movies in one hand and the bag of chips in the other. For a moment, he didn’t move and the dog didn’t either, looking at him with those eerily knowing eyes.

“Uh,” Stiles finally said, taking a nervous step back. “Hey, there, doggie?”

The dog growled. And if Stiles was being honest, it looked a lot more like a wolf than a dog, big enough to probably rip out his throat with ease.

Stiles suddenly froze, staring. 

A grumpy-growly wolf-dog. Following him and the betas around, all while Derek was on the loose who-knew-where...

“No freaking way,” Stiles breathed. “Sourwolf?”

Either he was losing his mind and talking to stray wolf-dogs, or Derek was sitting right in front of him. Not ripping his throat out, which Stiles supposed he should be grateful for, but was this really the secret the man had been keeping for months?

“Oh my god, dude, you go furry now?”

The dog snarled, stalking forward. Stiles squeaked, dropping both the movie and bag of chips. He stumbled back, ramming against the door, and fumbled blindly for the doorknob. Except, before he could yank it open and maybe spend the rest of the night hiding from an angry wolf-dog-thing, it was getting larger, less furry, and suddenly Derek Hale was standing in front of him.

Stiles yelped, clapping his hands over his eyes and turning his face away.

“Dude, genitals!”

Yeah, that sentence actually left his mouth.

And it wasn’t like Stiles had never imagined seeing Derek naked before, but if he had, it would not be in a situation like this. Stiles was far too shocked to remove his hands for a moment, but he was pretty sure that a grown man standing naked on his front porch was going to get the cops called and— and his dad could not see this.

Oh god, his dad could never see this.

“D-Derek?”

“Stiles.”

Stiles flinched, lowering his hands but keeping his eyes firmly closed. Turning around blindly, he felt around until he found the doorknob and turned it, stumbling back into his house. And after a moment, he heard what sounded like Derek following.

“Shut the door behind you,” Stiles said, finally opening his eyes but keeping them straight ahead. “I swear to god, dude, shut the door and hope for both our sakes that nobody saw you go from furry to nude in like, three seconds.”

Stiles heard what sounded like an unimpressed grunt, but he was really trying to pretend like there wasn’t a naked werewolf behind him, thank you very much. After a second, he heard the door shut, and then footsteps moved forward.

“Nope!” Stiles shouted, squeezing his eyes closed again. “Nope, do not take another step, dude! Not until you have some clothes on!”

“Stiles,” Derek growled, definitely sounding irritated now. Stiles waved a hand over his shoulder, cutting the man off.

“Nuh-uh. I’m going to go get you something to wear and you are going to stay… right where you are. Wherever you are. No moving, no going anywhere. No going furry again!”

“Stiles—”

“I swear to god, Sourwolf, I will murder you if you don’t listen to me right now.”

Derek went silent and Stiles waited for a moment longer before realizing he had the upper hand here. More than relieved, he stumbled toward the stairs, keeping his gaze firmly averted until the living room was out of sight 

On the top of the stairs, Stiles could easily freak out in peace. He was pretty sure Derek could still hear his heartbeats but whatever.

There was a naked werewolf one floor below. Derek Hale was naked in his living room.

And the man had just been a damn wolf.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Stiles said, heading for his dad’s room. The last time he’d attempted to make Derek wear his clothes, it had nearly ended in a murder, so he figured he’d go with the safe option this time. And that ended up being a pair of sweatpants and Beacon Hills PD t-shirt that Stiles was going to make sure his dad never wore again.

Derek Hale and the Sheriff sharing clothes might be something Stiles would never recover from.

He paused at the top of the stairs again, debating just throwing them down and telling Derek to fetch. But that probably wouldn’t end well either. Taking a deep breath, Stiles moved back downstairs and turned into the living room again, turning his gaze to the floor the moment he caught sight of a bare chest and Derek’s slightly peeved expression.

The man hadn’t moved, at least.

“Here,” Stiles said, thrusting the stack of clothes forward. He heard Derek grunt and could easily imagine the man rolling his eyes, but Derek took them without a complaint.

Stiles turned a little ways away, eyeing the wall with interest until the rustling of clothes turned into silence once more and he glanced back to see Derek finally clothed.

“Oh, thank god,” Stiles said. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Are you happy now?”

“Am I— no, asshole, I’m not happy! You were just naked. And before that, you were a freaking wolf. A wolf! When the hell did that happen?”

Derek’s face tightened. “It’s new.”

“New as in it started a few months ago? You know, when you started disappearing out of nowhere?”

Derek didn’t answer. Stiles groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

“I can just leave,” Derek shot back, folding his arms over his chest. Stiles threw up his hands.

“Yeah, well, why did you come here in the first place?”

“Why were you following me all over town?”

“Following— following? I wasn’t following you, asshole! I didn’t even know where the hell you were! I was looking,” Stiles said, glaring. “There’s a difference.”

Derek’s tight expression didn’t change. “Okay, why were you looking?”

“Because I was worried!”

Derek’s eye twitched. But before he could say another word, the doorbell rang and Stiles startled, glancing at it and cursing. 

“Trick-or-treaters. But we don’t have any candy to hand out.”

“So just ignore it.”

Stiles went silent and a few seconds passed before the doorbell rang again. Cursing again, he waved Derek off and hurried into the kitchen, scrounging around before finding a box of granola bars. Figuring that would have to be good enough, he rushed back over to the door and pulled it open.

There were only a handful of kids on the step, thankfully. The air filled with the chorus of “trick or treat!” and Stiles put on his best smile, offering the granola bars forward.

One kid frowned. “Where’s the candy?”

“Not here, dude.”

“Why not?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, but before he could say a word, the kid stiffened with a gasp. Turning around, Stiles realized Derek had come to stand behind him, the man’s eyes glowing bright red and his face half-shifted.

A second passed. Then, a chorus of screams filled the air and all of the kids turned, racing from the doorstep. Stiles blinked after them, then turned back toward Derek, staring at the man incredulously.

“Dude, what the hell?”

Derek looked unbothered, the red fading from his eyes as he turned back around. Stiles gazed after him, then glanced back over his shoulder, swallowing hard at the glares from the parents on the sidewalk. He was pretty sure one of the kids was crying.

Oh, this was just fantastic.

“Oh my fucking god,” Stiles said, slamming the door closed. “Derek, you can’t just do that!”

“You can’t give granola bars out instead of candy.”

“Um, excuse me,” Stiles said, gesturing around. “But do you see any candy lying around? And you probably just scarred all of those kids for life, you know!”

Derek shrugged, dropping down onto the couch. “They’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

The man raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t just nearly given a bunch of children heart attacks. Stiles stood rooted to the spot for a moment before stalking over, jabbing a threatening finger in the werewolf’s face.

“You’re going to tell me how this started. Now.”

Derek didn’t look fazed. And dammit, if Stiles didn’t hate him sometimes.

“Derek, I swear to god—”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Derek said. “It’s new. My mother could full-shift and now I can too.”

Stiles clenched his jaw. “And you didn’t think to tell the rest of the pack?”

“I was learning how to control it.”

“You know, some of us could have helped.”

Derek gave him a flat look. And Stiles did his best not to flush bright red, crossing his arms as he dropped into the armchair across from the man. 

“I could have helped.”

“Hm.”

“You were a dog,” Stiles stated. And to the man’s continued silence, he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my god, you can turn into a dog.”

“A wolf, Stiles.”

“Wolf, dog, whatever. You can literally rip throats out now.”

When he glanced through his fingers, Derek almost looked a little pleased. And nope, that wasn’t fair at all. Stiles had a real reason to fear for his life when he pissed the man off a little too much, now. And that was not something to be pleased about.

Not in his book, at least.

“You could have told someone, you know,” Stiles said grumpily. “I mean, other than Peter.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah, Peter,” Stiles said, “Trust me, the Creeperwolf knows.”

Derek actually looked a little surprised at that. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“What?”

Stiles looked at him in disbelief. Because seriously? He’d been trying to figure out what Derek was doing for months now. And the man still seemed surprised that Stiles had wanted to know? “Dude, do you know how many theories I had?”

Derek looked at him blankly. Stiles huffed.

“I swear to god, I thought you were in trouble or dying or something. That’s stressful, dude!”

“I was fine.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell anyone that.”

Derek looked confused for a moment. Then his face did something weird-- Derek actually looked more like a soft teddy bear for a moment, instead of a grumpy werewolf, and Stiles didn’t know what the hell to do with that. “I was fine, Stiles.”

Stiles crossed his arms, glaring down at the floor. Derek sighed.

“Well, now you know, right?”

Stiles looked at the floor for another moment before glancing back up. “Why show me tonight? I wouldn’t have figured it out.”

“You were driving all over town looking for me, Stiles.”

“I was concerned!”

Stiles could’ve sworn the corners of Derek's mouth twitched. And yep, this whole thing was weirding him out. From the wolf, to the nudity, to the fact that Derek Hale looked like he was about to smile.

Stiles leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not going crazy, right?”

“Really, Stiles?”

“I’m just saying, dude,” Stiles said, raising his hands. “This is all kind of weirding me out.”

For a moment, Derek looked uncomfortable. “The shift?”

Stiles blinked. Derek glanced away.

“It’s different. From the others. It's strange.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “No, of course that's not it, dude. You being a literal freaking wolf? That’s the coolest thing ever, man.”

Derek glanced up, face a little red. Stiles huffed.

“I guess I’m just not used to having naked werewolves hanging out in my living room.”

The red went all the way to Derek’s ears this time. He scowled, but Stiles thought he could look grumpier. The glare didn't quite reach his eyes and the red of his face was definitely amusing. “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Hmm, sure. So are you going to tell the rest of the pack at some point?”

“At some point.”

Stiles grinned a little bit. “So I’m the only one who knows, then? Other than Peter the Creeper, at least. God, I feel so special.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “For now.”

“I'll take it,” Stiles said, grinning wider. To Derek’s flat look, he raised his hands. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

The man's eyes flashed bright red at that and he smirked. “No, you won’t.”

“I-is that a threat, Sourwolf?”

“You said it yourself. I can rip out throats now.”

A shiver ran down Stiles's spine, but he couldn't tell if it was a terrified one or not. He didn't think so. “I didn’t need that imagery.” And the whole smirking-threat thing totally wasn’t a strange turn on. Not at all.

Dammit.

Except before Derek could say a word again, or maybe catch wind of Stiles's teenage hormones betraying him, the doorbell rang once more. Stiles startled and Derek’s eyes flickered red again. Before the man could go scar more innocent children, though, Stiles jumped up and grabbed the box of granola bars. "Don't you dare."

Derek gave him a flat look. Stiles shrugged.

“I didn’t plan on being around tonight,” he said. “I don't have candy to hand out. Everyone is gathered at the loft anyway. Err, minus the betas perhaps.”

“They might be back by now.”

"Or they're in jail."

Derek didn't look fazed. "It'd be a good lesson."

Stiles rolled his eyes at that, glancing toward the door as the bell rang again. Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting, and Stiles glanced down at the box of granola bars again. Then, he sighed. “Okay, fine, big guy, you get one more scare. Then, we’re going to the loft. Understood?”

The man looked surprised. Stiles smirked a little.

“Or you can stay here and explain to my dad why you’re wearing his clothes when he gets off his shift.”

Stiles was more than entertained to see Derek look terrified for a moment. The big bad wolf, literally looking like Stiles had just threatened him with a stick of wolfsbane. And, full shift wolf or not, Stiles was totally remembering that.

“So?” he said, tilting his head toward the door. And was he a terrible person for allowing this? Maybe a little bit? “Are you gonna go?”

There were definite fangs in Derek half-smirk. That really shouldn’t have been such a turn on too.

Stiles was pretty sure someone was going to call the cops on his house too, just like with the betas. And wouldn’t that confuse the hell out of his dad? Stiles supposed he could always throw them under the bus a second time if needed.

Seconds after Derek opened the door, screams filled the air. Stiles glanced down at the box of granola bars in his hands.

Well…

He set them on the front porch with a ‘take one’ sign when they left, just in case. And Derek made sure Stiles knew he thought the entire thing was stupid and 'granola bars should never be a replacement for candy.' Stiles had never realized the man was such a Halloween snob.

The entire box was still there the next morning.

[mattsvn]

Nostalgia.

Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader

Summary: A summer after graduation finds Iwaizumi Hajime halfway across the globe, sitting in a lecture hall and staring at a golden dome that reminds him of the world and his place in it. Or, the lack thereof.

Genre: Slight angst to fluff. Character introspection, self discovery!

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none.

A/N: Guess who’s crying :smiley: Okay, so I got inspired by this tik tok, check it out, show the artist some love, and adding to another idea I had this came up, I hope you guys like it!  ALSO, that beautiful summary was suggested by @meliorist-midoriya​ !!!​ Repost from my old blog, this is on my favorite fics ever written hehe

There is something distinctive about the traces left by people in the places they inhabited. Whether intentional or not, to enter a house that was once occupied is to step into an unknown life, where all that remains are the lines drawn on the wall frames, with random dates, leaving a record of someone’s growth.

A part of the wall with a lighter color, where photographs once hung and the trace of old drawings on the wall could be seen even if you paid close attention. Seeing the home you had lived in for years empty, lifeless or without its distinctive smell caused an ache in your chest that you couldn’t describe, how was that atmosphere created again, with spotless walls, perfect floors and the lack of human warmth?

You weren’t afraid of living alone, you were afraid of having a lonely life.

It was frightening to think that the apartment you had just bought might feel like it was inhabited by a ghost, with no trace that anyone had ever been there. One way or another you wanted to make that space, with only two rooms and one bathroom, feel like your home, even if it was just you, even if you would only live there for a few months.

So, amidst the worry about establishing a home and hundreds of paperwork, came the first day of college, one more step to adapt to, the breaking of a routine you had just begun to create.

There was no better way to start that school year than by being on time, so, at least for the first week, you tried to be there early enough. It gave you time to get through the school buildings, and to finish your coffee just before the first class started.

Thursday arrived, with the first class being Medieval Art, not usually a subject that caught the attention of many, so it was common to see empty seats. Still, as usual, you were planning on choosing the seat right next to the window, where the sunlight illuminated your notes, but that day, it seemed that someone already occupied that place.

You sat next to him, there was no reason not to share the table, didn’t pay attention to him, it seemed that the boy was taking a nap a few minutes before class, probably he had a class before that one, or he was just tired. The teacher settled into her seat, and you glanced sideways, only to see that the boy was still asleep, not moving.

“One day, the architect, Frank Gehry said: architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness” she began, while behind her appeared the image of a building you had heard too much about. “I think one of the best representations of this is Hagia Sofia” she continued, showing the image of that beautiful golden dome behind her, she kept talking.

As the guy next to you opened his eyes, sleepily he took a deep breath, concentrating on the image in front of him, with some concern he took the supplies from his backpack to take notes for the class, he seemed lost, confused and, in general, tired, like he was there by mistake, or, against his will.

Iwaizumi was not usually like this. Before moving to the United States, he had never been late for a class, he was the type of person who kept everything in order, always punctual, with notes in order and an impeccable grade. A role model in every sense of the word, student, athlete and perfect son.

But as soon as he arrived from his flight, tired to the bone and affected by jet lag, he slept as much as he could, only to wake up in the early morning, stunned by the different time zone he could not fall asleep at the right time, he still couldn’t get used to the food offered there, and he was unable to find the ingredients he would commonly use in Miyagi to eat.

People drove on the left seat, and the road was on the right side, they used to eat on the street without any concern, or on the way to their jobs and schools, nor did there seem to be manners in public transportation, at least no the ones he knew. There were words that confused him, and the symbols on the streets made his head spin.

People did not have the same habits he knew, and he noticed that after only a couple of days after moving in. By the time school started, Iwaizum was still trying to sleep at the time he was used to and didn’t make it until two or three in the morning, so, it resulted in waking up late and sleeping in between classes, he still wasn’t used to having his notes in English, so his handwriting looked weird, the teachers spoke too fast for him to understand, therefore, his notes were all over the place

Not to mention how unpunctual they were, he found himself a couple of times arriving late to class, only to find out that the teacher wasn’t there, and that it would probably take them twenty minutes more to arrive, and sometimes, they would cancel the class when you were already there, just because.

Even in the classes he looked forward the most, he found himself tired, bored, easily distracted, and he expected the same from this one, a subject he had taken only to complete his units. But, when he opened his eyes, he swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as that. A gorgeous dome of gleaming gold, with light streaming in through the windows and the distinctive marks of history on its walls.

It took him a few seconds to listen to the professor properly, as he was still impressed with what he saw on the projector, there was nothing that did not interest him, from the columns to that painting of the Virgin Mary, an impeccable marble floor, and, the mixture of both religions on its walls was perhaps what left him most curious of all that he had seen.

There was nothing like that in Japan, or at least not that he remembered. Byzantine architecture had that distinctive feature in which it left you mesmerized for a moment, he was so enraptured by it that he didn’t notice that there was someone sitting next to him, taking notes of the things the teacher was saying, with a slightly frown, concentrating, and different pens scattered around the table. The teacher continued talking, still detailing how a building created almost fifteen hundred years ago remained one of the finest constructions in human history.

Hagia Sofia, she read from the blackboard. He wrote down the title in a slightly disorganized way, along with the rest of the words on the board.

Hagia Sofia, meaning: holy wisdom. Constantinople, now Istanbul.

“Long before what we now know, the Byzantine Empire took place in what is now Istanbul, the capital of this empire is perhaps one of the most important historical and architectural sites of the Medieval Era, this was the largest known church  for about a thousand years. It has been used as a church, a mosque and now serves as a museum.” She explained, showing the various images of the building. ”There were two later constructions after this, one destroyed in a fire and the second in the Niká riots, then, in the year 532 construction began on what we now know as Hagia Sofia.“

"Wow” Iwazumi sighed, absently sketching the shape of the building.

“I won’t tell you much about this building, at least not for now,” said the teacher, pausing for a moment to look at the picture. “I want an essay on this topic, and I would like you to gather in pairs for it.” she asked them. “I just want your opinions and analysis on the things that are most important to you about the place and what you think is meant to be represented by these, either imagery or architecture. Your partner will be the person who is closest to you, starting with the two of you, at the bottom.”

You looked at Iwaizumi out of the corner of your eye, having to work with people you didn’t know was always a problem, but, you hoped it wouldn’t be like that this time. He also looked at you, a little relieved thinking that you would surely know something about Medieval Architecture, not like him, who felt totally lost in that new subject. Even so, he returned his gaze to the front, memorizing every detail of that dome in his mind.

The class continued, with the teacher talking about historical processes in the fifth century and the topics that would be taken throughout the course, Hajime could not help but see the excitement that certain topics caused you, especially with the mention of some gothic buildings. And so, in the blink of an eye, the class was over, and before he realized it, you were already grabbing your things to leave.

“My next class is Historical Theory, what’s yours? We can organize on the way” you said, looking at him for a second while you closed your backpack. Iwaizumi tried to put his belongings away as quickly as possible, but failed a bit with his clumsy movements. “What’s your major?"

"Oh, Sports Science,” he replied. Your reaction was as expected: confusion, what was a sports science major doing in a medieval art class? “All the other classes were busy and I needed some extra units.”

“Oh, I see” you nodded, walking out of the classroom with him walking beside you.

“What’s your major?” he asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t asked that before.

“Art History” you replied, with a smile. “By the way, my name is y/n” you said, extending your hand, he received it, still not used to the way people introduced themselves there, but little by little he was starting to adjust to it.

“Iwaizumi Hajime” he cleared his throat, here they speak by first names, not last names, you idiot, he said to himself in his mind. “Hajime.”

“So, Hajime, you didn’t organize your classes on time, you take naps before class, and you don’t know anything about Medieval Art” you jokingly commented. “We have quite a bit to learn, don’t you think?”

“Uh… y-yes” he nodded, stopping when you did, not even realizing how far he had walked. “I won’t let you do all the work, if that’s what you’re worried about” he assured, it seemed they were in front of the door to your next class the moment you stopped and looked at the door, Iwaizumi didn’t want to take up your time, but he had no idea what to say either.

“Well, how about we meet in the library later this week? You can give me your number so we can schedule the day” you hoped the professor wouldn’t come to the classroom while you were talking to  Iwaizumi, as he seemed like a very nice person, despite how nervous he was.

“Sure, I have the whole afternoon off tomorrow, is that okay?” you nodded, extending your phone to him so he could write down his number and name, to your luck, he returned it just in time.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’ll text you as soon as my class is over” you said, saying goodbye and entering just before the teacher, who closed the door behind himself.

Iwaizumi stared at the door for a few seconds, letting out a sigh,then, he walked to his next class. It felt awfully strange to walk around campus alone, with no one by his side. Maybe he had gotten too used to spending his free time with the rest of his friends in highschool, and, at times like these, where he was waiting for a message from a cute girl, he couldn’t help but think about how much he missed them.

He was alone, and that was terrifying.

Iwaizumi looked at his phone for the third time in an hour, the class, food chemistry, was just short of making him fall asleep, yet he couldn’t help but look at his phone and wonder at what point the cute girl in the Medieval Art class would send him a message.

She didn’t until almost four hours later, just as Iwaizumi had recently returned to his apartment and was working on a long assignment for the rest of the week. Ignoring the sound of a message at first, thinking it was probably Oikawa bugging him about some new thing he learned in Argentina, so, he didn’t look at his phone until a couple of minutes later, when a second message came through.

“Hi! Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, I’ve been a little busy, but this is my number!”

“My last class ends at 2:00 p.m., do you mind if I meet you at that time in the library?”

He answered almost immediately, regretting later for doing it so quickly, you look like a desperate idiot, he thought. To his luck, as soon as he locked the phone, the screen lit up again with the reply.

It seemed that after that things flowed perfectly, even though before he met her they would have seemed like inconveniences to him, now they looked as an opportunity. The professor for tomorrow’s class informed them that he was out of town, so his classes would start until the following week, which gave Iwaizumi a chance to continue with his homework calmly, and, to get ready to see the pretty girl the next day, maybe even sleep properly that night.

However, nothing went as he planned.

Again, he found himself staring at the ceiling at midnight, without any possibility of being able to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work. That wasn’t his bed, nor his sheets or his favorite pillow, it wasn’t his wall or the window overlooking his backyard. As he stared at the empty, flat ceiling, he wondered why he couldn’t at least see a golden dome so he would have something to think about while he tried to sleep.

And so he woke up quite late, much later than he was used to. Maybe his body took the opportunity to recover all his lost energy, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was that he woke up thirty minutes before the agreed time with the pretty girl, and, it took fifteen minutes to get to the library from where he was.

He sent as many messages as he could while getting dressed and trying to look as presentable as possible. At least it wasn’t strange to see people running around campus, although it was in the first few weeks of school, where no one was really worried about anything.

“I told you I could wait a while” you mentioned, Iwaizumi was standing in front of her, trying to control his breathing, visibly agitated for having run all the way to the library. “Tell me you at least ate something” you murmured, in a way to accept his apology, then he sat on the free seat in front of you, trying to avoid that questioning.

“I can eat something later, sorry I was late” he apologized, again, he expected you to be upset, but you weren’t, instead, the first thing he saw was a reassuring smile, you hadn’t been more than ten minutes late, so, there was really no problem. “Again, I’m sorry, I was…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Iwaizumi. You were only ten minutes late, I’ve known people who take an hour to show up” the boy looked at the table for the first time, it was almost like the mess she had in yesterday’s class, only now it had several open books around it. “My class ended early so I went ahead to research an assignment I had, don’t you want to go get something to eat before we start?”

“I’d rather do this and then I can eat something, I wouldn’t want to waste your time even more” he replied, it was too obvious that he still didn’t quite master English, or maybe he did but he was quite embarrassed about how it was that he pronounced things. “I’ve never had this happen to me before, I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay? Seriously, but why are you late? If you say it doesn’t usually happen to you” Iwaizumi looked towards the window with a frown, he felt like he would spend an embarrassment for that, because, sleeping late was not a good excuse, actually, nothing was a good excuse for his lateness, but still, he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re coming in with a hangover?”

“No, no, not at all. It’s just… I’m still not used to the time change here and I’m used to sleeping at a totally different time” he said, though there was more to it.

The insomnia was only a collateral result of how he felt, and perhaps what kept him most irritable. Perhaps he had chosen that change too quickly, or the feeling was probably something that would fade with time. But he couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t quite connected to reality, like he was living a strange dream. The routine he had worked on for years that kept him safe was gone, and was now out of his reach.

He missed going out every Tuesday for lunch with Oikawa, Makki and Mattsun. He missed walking to school and greeting his neighbors, or the way Oikawa’s older sister squeezed his cheeks, even though he said how much he detested it, he missed the karaoke he went to once a month and his mother’s food, hell, he even missed Oikawa’s obnoxious nephew.

“So, where are you from? Moving is hard enough, I can’t imagine doing it from another country” he looked at her, realizing she was genuinely concerned and curious, she meant it. The sincerity brought him calm, enough to say what he felt.

“Japan, I just got here a couple of weeks ago, I still don’t understand much and my English isn’t the best so I’m not having the best time” he pointed out, as he picked up his notebook, watching as she jotted something down on the computer, adding a document to start the essay. “Not to be rude, but your culture is really weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me, it is. But you end up getting used to it, don’t you? I find people’s behavior patterns depending on their culture interesting” Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed that there was already a book on Byzantine architecture on the table, which showed a picture of Hagia Sophia from the outside. “Besides, it’s normal to miss your hometown, don’t you think, what did you most like to do there?”

“Playing volleyball with my friends” he answered without hesitation, for it was true. He missed every detail of it, from the practices, to the coach yelling at his teammates to the games, even the ones he lost.

“Oh, were they on a team together?” she put the computer aside, devoting her full attention to him. Iwaizumi nodded, ready to talk about all the amazing things his team had. “Were you guys good?”

“Well, yes. At least within reason, we were. We never made it to nationals, but within our prefecture we were very good” he nodded, still feeling the bitter taste of defeat on the tip of his tongue as if it had happened yesterday, his last chance to go to nationals ended before it even started.

“And what position did you play?” he questioned, Iwaizumi picked up the book on the table solely to have something to distract himself with.

“Uh, wing spiker. I was the ‘ace’ of the school, but of course, I couldn’t be any of it without Oikawa."

"Oikawa?”

The conversation did not stop since then, between readings, corrections and stories about his high school, Iwaizumi did not even realize that almost three hours had passed, three hours in which he could not believe what he saw in images, despite all the fear he had, all the nostalgia that accumulated inside him, seeing that building in Constantinople brought him a peace that he could not manage to understand, no matter how much he wondered what was going on.

Although it didn’t compare to how the pretty girl explained things, he should probably stop referring to her as the pretty girl and start calling her by her name, as he ended up forgetting it, and every time she said his name, he blamed himself for not remembering hers. He learned everything he wanted to know in one afternoon, thanks to her, the semi domes, the atrium, every detail, structural and artistic there, he memorized it with her voice, melodious, calm, safe.

After making a couple of questions, he lost his fear of asking what he was seeing, because, as she told him, “no one knows everything, there will always be someone who knows something you don’t”. So, he ended up engaged in a conversation about the wonders of medieval architecture and no more than ten minutes later, the conversation drifted to the karaoke that his friends loved, or the park where he and Oikawa learned to play volleyball.

Life at the university became more bearable thanks to her, Iwaizumi heard the story of how she had just moved out of her parents’ house, how they also moved out of their house and the pain it caused her to leave the home she loved empty. She enjoyed knitting, watching movies and listening to new music all the time. In a couple of weeks, he discovered her favorite food, and the kind of clothes she liked best, the movies that made her cry and the ones that made her die laughing, and with each thing he learned, she asked him the same questions. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to answer, or what people used to say, it made him wonder if he seemed like a nice person or someone who would be interesting to spend time with.

Tuesdays of going out to eat became Tuesdays of organized movies in the dorms, once-a-month karaokes became visits to museums instead of his neighbors, now he was greeting his roommates every morning, now the cute girl in Medieval Art class was the one squeezing his cheeks, it seemed that, little by little, everything was starting to be as he knew it.

Or at least that’s what he thought

“But what do you like, Iwaizumi?” she asked him on a sunny afternoon where sunlight illuminated her room and there was a random movie on TV as the background noise, around her a lot of snacks and fried food, that’s what Saturdays were like, relaxed and sunny. “I almost feel like I know Oikawa like you do, but you don’t tell me much about yourself.”

“Huh?” he asked, doubtful, hadn’t he been talking about himself all that time, or had he only thought he was? “I don’t know what you want to know about me.”

“I want to know who you are, beyond all your friends and the people in your life.I know what Oikawa likes and how many fans he had or the perfect settings he did, but I want to know about you.” she told him.

She didn’t know if it was because the girl was an art enthusiast, or if she just hadn’t met someone who wanted to know more about him for her own pleasure, for what she felt was inexplicable.

“Well, well… with my team” he began, stopping the moment he saw the look on the girl’s face, who could only thus make him feel as if he were a scolded child. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, confused as to what it was he should say.

“Who are you, Iwaizumi, what do you like, what song do you like the most? I don’t want to know about other people, I want to know about you, about what makes you who you are.” She began, the moment only seemed more special with the way the sun was shining on her skin and her smile seemed to shine even brighter than it always did. “I know you’re a good teammate, a good son, a good friend, but who are you, what are the qualities that you have?”

He looked into her eyes, how many times hadn’t he stopped to look into those beautiful eyes that stole his breath, or those lips that said the cutest yet most painful things?“

"Iwaizumi. I want you to tell me the story that you have, like Hagia Sophia, do you remember all the marks that it has? the mix of everything that lies in you? There is so much history in who you are beyond your friends, I want to know if you are happy or if you like ice cream, how you react to things. I hope you understand me, it’s okay to like things that your friends do or showed you, but I don’t think it should be all that you are, so, who are you?”

Still not taking his eyes off her, he remembered every detail of the building he studied for weeks, the religious motifs and art on its walls, the history even in the broken parts of the floor, or those portions where the paint was completely gone. And, with tears in his eyes, he replied:

“I don’t know.” He murmured, his voice trembling.

And he really didn’t know, he had lived so long being a friend, son, teammate and neighbor that, little by little, without realizing it, he stopped prioritizing the things that to him and only to him made him happy.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about it” she murmured in the same way, very close to him as if she were telling him a secret. “Find out who you are.”

And just like that, the first picture of the two of you decorated your wall, along with some paint smudges from a sunny afternoon, a canvas, and some brushes, and a volleyball mark at first. Two wrongs can make a right, your mother would say. You, in search of rebuilding your space, and he, in search of himself.

You couldn’t have picked a better time than that, or a better life than that.

taglist: @sugas-sweetheart @kirislut @hannahalanib1 @goopyartiste @yee-harr @ohno-grapes @peach-pops @meliorist-midoriya @milktyama @majestic-sea-flip-flop @starlessnyx @tanakasimpcorner @msbyslugg @ordinary-ace @boosyboo9206

[snackleggg]

City of splintering hopes: Chapter 2 "Cave of stars"

~~~

Ao3

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Danny woke up Saturday morning feeling well rested and refreshed, so he was immediately suspicious about what the day would bring. The last time he had woken up feeling so well was before The accident so roughly 2 years of either nightmares, insomnia, or a ghost waking him had him jumpy at the prospect of a good night's sleep.

He did all his usual checks to make sure nothing was wrong but as he headed down for breakfast it seemed that everything was perfectly fine. Suspicious.

Danny just shrugged though as he ate his almost certainly ecto-contaminated cereal before leaving the house as quickly as possible to avoid helping his parents test any new inventions. Of course he always kept an eye on whatever they were creating, in case it was anything actually dangerous he would need to destroy but the day had started suspiciously well and he wanted to keep that good times streak going for as long as possible. Not getting hit in the head with the boo-merang was something he was eager to do.

He quickly met up with Tucker and Sam at the Nasty burger but as they talked about school and which ghosts they were betting on appearing today Danny felt weighed down as the events of yesterday found their way back to the forefront of his thoughts.

"Hey, earth to Danny" Sam said, snapping her fingers infront of his face. Oh, he must have spaced out.

"We know you wanna be an astronaut dude but don't you think it's a little early?" Tucker joked between stuffing his face full of fries.

Danny chuckled at his friends attempt at humor but it came out more forced than anything "Sorry, just thinking about some stuff. Can I get your guys opinion on something?" Danny asked and both Sam and Tucker gave him their full attention as he started explaining what had happened yesterday.

At the end of the recounting Tucker exclaimed "Yes! You should totally go!" Loud enough to get a few heads turned but he quieted himself down and soon everyone at the fast food joint was once again minding their own business.

"It does sound like a good opportunity. Plus it's not like anything bad is guaranteed to happen. My prediction is worst case scenario you come back with nothing new" Sam said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess your right. I mean it's just some old abandoned buildings and stuff they might've left behind, nothing that can hurt right?" Danny reasoned, finally he was starting to get over his slight paranoia.

"Exactly! But if you do find anything cool be sure to tell us about it" Tucker added and Danny nodded along. Of course he would tell his friends, they knew pretty much everything about eachother and would always come to eachother when they needed to talk to someone.

"Well if you want to go today then you should get going, the Far Frozen is a 2 hour flight and you don't know how long you'll need to travel from there to get to these ruins" Sam said. Danny had also explained to them his feelings on not wanting to wait too long if he did decide to go and she could tell that Danny's curiosity that he inherited from his parents wouldn't let him just walk away from this one.

"Oh, yeah you're right!" Danny shot up but before he could move he looked at his two friends with concern "You guys gonna be okay protecting Amity on your own?" Danny asked.

"It's all good. We have our thermos' and some Fenton anti-ghost weapons that actually work so we should be fine!" Tucker waved off Danny's concerns.

"But, if anything does happen that we can't handle well call you. That ease your worries?" Sam asked with a smirk and Danny rolled his eyes fondly before waving goodbye and heading home.

It was the same as what he did yesterday. Go through the portal invisibly, make the long fly to the Far Frozen and go see Frostbite. Of course now it was for different reasons than a check up or just the usual friendly visit.

Danny's thoughts had nearly spiralled three times on the flight over to the Far Frozen but he had been getting better at grounding himself so he managed to catch any worries or doubts that may have caused him to turn around.

Finally he landed in the freezing tundra and almost immediately was engulfed in a hug from the large Yeti. His white fur made him blend into the surroundings so well Danny hadn't spotted him initially.

"Great One!" Frostbite yelled happily as he put Danny back down. It didn't matter how many times or how often Danny visited Frostbite was always ecstatic to see him.

"Hey Frosty" Danny gave his old mentor a smile before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he had for as long as he could remember.

"Have you... thought about what I suggested?" Frostbite asked, immediately understanding why Danny was here. It was always easy to forget that Frostbite was alot smarter than he seemed, he had given Danny wise words of advice on more than one occasion and it was obvious when he was around his tribe how great his leadership skills were.

"Yeah I have and... do you think you could? Take me to the ruins? I want to know more about people like me and this might be the only way..." Danny rambled a little. He didn't know why he felt like he needed to justify himself to Frostbite. Frostbite knew why he was here already, he had suggested it, so why did Danny feel like this was something he needed an excuse for?

"Of course. I can't show you to the ruins themselves unfortunately but I can show you how to get to them" Frostbite said as he turned around and started walking away from Danny, making a 'follow me' gesture.

Danny was as stiff as a board as he followed Frostbite. Hypervigilant and examining all his surroundings closely like he expected something to jump out and attack him.

They walked down a path Danny hadn't seen before, it lead away from where Danny knew the Yeti tribe to be living, leading further and further into the tundra and up the ice mountains.

After maybe around an hour of walking in silence, only the wind and crunch of snow under their feet filling it, they came to a stop on the mountain side. Infront of them stood a large entrance to a very dark cave.

"Through here, on the other side are the ruins" Frostbite gestured and seemed to wait for Danny to go in but Danny hesitated.

"Why can't you lead me the rest of the way?" He asked.

"This cave leads to the hidden lands, as some call them, it is where the Halfas once lived. Only a Halfa or those given special permission to pass can make it through the labyrinth of the cave, I have tried but I always end up coming back out this side despite never remembering turning around" Frostbite explained and Danny just gulped nervously.

"If only a Halfa could get through then how did Pariah Dark attack the Halfas, shouldn't they have been safe in these 'Hidden lands'?" Danny asked nervously.

"I... do not know. Many of the allies of the Halfas thought the same thing. There was a legend- no, a rumour that a ghost that had the ability to track Halfas helped Pariah Dark but that's all that was, a rumour" Frostbite shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face.

Danny nerves weren't calming down but something in his core urged him to go through the cave. He didn't know what it was but ever since The accident Danny's instincts had always been trustworthy so he took a steadying breath before walking forward into the cave.

He heard Frostbite wish him good luck as he entered.

The cave was alot warmer than he was expecting. Of course thanks to his ice core he couldn't get cold necessarily but the change in temperature didn't go unnoticed by him. The light from the snow white tundra quickly disappeared the further in he went until he was engulfed in complete darkness, apart from the soft glow he himself was giving off. The sounds of the howling winds had faded until they could barely be heard anymore and Danny was really considering turning around and leaving because the idea of stumbling around in a dark labyrinth cave wasn't exactly the most appealing.

Then he blinked as he noticed something, a light.

Not really it was more like a dot, a small dot of light in the dark.

He decided to continue walking and the longer he walked the more of these small dots of the light appeared until there were so many it lit up the icy cave in a pale glow, the lights all reflecting off of the ice.

Danny stopped as he stared in wonder at the sight.

The first thing that came to Danny's mind were the stars, the night sky. It was beautiful how the small points of light work together to illuminate the dark cave.

Then Danny noticed something as he continued walking. The dots were disappearing behind him but appearing infront of him as he walked. Then he took a turn and the dots stopped appearing.

"Huh..." Danny backtracked and took the other turn. The dots started appearing again, lighting the way for the young Halfa.

"Cool" Danny whispered into the silence of the cave was he followed the direction of the dots of light. Finally Danny turned a corner and he saw the end of the cave, an end that even from the distance Danny could tell didn't lead out into the cold tundra of the Far Frozen. As he closed the distance he could see the green swirling clouds of ectoplasm only they were lighter? A much lighter green than that of the normal sky of the Ghost Zone.

Finally Danny exited the cave and found his core humming nicely at the sight before him.

A city.

A large and grand one, made of a pale sandy coloured stone that reminded Danny of the housing they had in Egypt. The city was still a distance away so Danny couldn't see the architecture too closely but he could see a path leading down the no longer snowy mountain side to a bridge between the city and the cliff drop of the mountain.

A strange thing Danny noticed was the fact that the city didn't rest on an island that was floating, suspended in mid air. Instead the island stretched downwards into the dark abyss of the Ghost Zone, as if connected to solid ground all the way down in it's depths.

Danny was ecstatic.

He quickly flew down to the bridge, and walked it's length up to the gates of the city.

Standing at the city's ground level made it all the more grand and imposing.

But it also made Danny now notice the ruins part of it. The gate, that Danny had no doubt was once grand and tall standing, was nothing but rubble and fallen stone.

Danny took a fortifying breath.

Up until then Danny hadn't really thought about what he was truly walking into. This wasn't just a museum or some natural history tour. These were ruins, this was the home of a slaughter people. This place wasn't just their home, it was probably their grave as well.

He needed to be careful.

He couldn't go walking into this like a naive child, he came here to understand and to understand he needed to treat this place with the respect it deserved.

So he flew into the city, hopefully he could learn something from what was left behind.

~~~

First | Previous | Next

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I'll be tagging all content do to with this story with the tag City of splintering hopes so if guys want to you can follow the story easier. You can also use that tag for any questions or content you guys make of the story!

[thefanbasewhore]

The Owner of His Heart. ||A.R

AN: DO NOT CLICK KEEP READING IF YOU DIDNT NOT WATCH THE MOVE.. SPOILERS AHEAD… Also excuse my writing it’s been months since I’ve written anything !

Summary: before spoilers… Reader and Arvin had gone out a couple times but never labeled their relationship but one day when Arvin needs someone, she’s there.

Warning: Just the whole situation with the preacher, death, angst, and maybe a few curses?

The news was unsettling, the kind that sat deep inside the pit of one’s stomach, squeezing and aching, it made Y/N’s chest heavy with sadness. The news of Lenora’s death was surprising, a good God loving girl like her would never commit such a sin but there she lays with no one here., y/n is the only other person but her family standing above Lenora’s casket. Grandma Russel sobbing over the light-colored tomb, Uncle Earskell didn’t say much. As for Arvin she tried to get him to open up but, it didn’t seem like the right time to speak to him but her heart was hurting for his loss.

The preacher didn’t bother to come out and say any words, a suicide, a sinner.

Hesitantly she steps forward, hand comforting the lower back of Arvin. Arvin stiffens but he doesn’t bother to move away from it but only signs. “Arvin.” It’s a failed attempt to hold his hand because he’s almost half way down the dirt road before any other words could follow.

“just give him time sweetheart’” Grandma Russel manages to say, “He will come to you when he needs you.”

He always did. The couple were pretty much inseparable, best friends since childhood even walked together to school until graduation. Tears filled her eyes, Lenora had always been her friend too. They had only became more because the pressure to settle down and find a wife was weighed heavily on Arvin’s shoulders, he tried and tried but none of them clicked. One day it hit him, why wouldn’t he take his best friend out? There was no awkward introduction, no fakeness, she was the realist person he’s ever known.

At first it was a little awkward, so shocked that Arvin asked, she thought it was a joke and laughed in his face. He played it off cooly, but the look on his face said it all, not to mention how flush his cheeks were. “Wait you’re serious Arvin?”

“Mmm.” He confirms, “we already know everything about each other, it’s real between us. Just me and you, besides you ain’t the worst person I’ve ever seen.”

“wow thanks.” Her eyes roll make him laugh, he sucks in his bottom lip and smiles. “I’m just kidding darlin’, you’re beautiful.”

“Am I now?” A playful grin reaching her eyes as she leans over the counter of the diner. “So you’re confession your undying love for me officially?”

“yeah, I guess I am.” Tom shift uncomfortably in his seat as she tops of his coffee. It’s that sweet smile he’s so used too, but this time it send butterflies twirling in his stomach, he had always had a crush when he was younger but as the world grew colder and duller, he never acted on it. “I guess I’ll let you take me out, but we are not going anywhere the creepy abandoned house you always try to get me to go in.”

“why darlin’? Afraid of ghost?” Tom would never go there on a first date, a beautiful woman deserved something with flowers and big bright lights with dinner. Besides, he was pretty sure that his nan would actually kill him if he did anything but show Y/N the udder most respect.

That was only weeks ago, of course they shared some kisses here and there, he would pick her up for picnics, and dinner dates but being so caught up with each other talking about labels never came up.. but it was two people, best friends enjoying the company of one another.

Now she stood over Lenora’s grave watching Arvin’s figure disappear past the tree line, heart heavy with loss. Giving him time is what is best,  a few hours later she found herself knocking on the Russel’s door, a pie in hand. They considered her family of grieving with them but it didn’t feel right showing up with nothing.

“Grandma.” She presses a kiss to older woman’s cheek stepping through the doorway, “Did you eat anything? Want me to make some dinner?”

“all taking care of, maybe you could convince Arvin to eat though, he hasn’t left his room since.” Without a second thought she grabbed the plate from the table and made it through the hall way to Arvin’s room. There’s knock but there’s no answer, it quiet, something that is not familiar when Arvin’s involved.

Pressing against the door she opens it slowly, gripping the plate with two hands once the door is closed. “Arvin, you gotta eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” It muffled from how tightly the blanket was wrapped around him, hoarse from the throbbing inside of his throat. The whole room felt as if it was spinning, heavy eyes with irritated cheeks for the amount of times he’s wiped them.

“hey.” It’s a soft coo as she places the food on the stand next to the bed. “Look at me.”

The brown doe eyes glance up sadly, red with pressure, a ring of redness making it look like he hasn’t slept in days. “Do you need anything? I want to make this better Arvin.”

“I want you to leave.” He admits, pain twisting into his features. “I’m cursed, every single person I love has killed themselves, You’re it going to get caught up in my evil. First my daddy now my sister, who’s next?”

His breathing was increasing, growing with every word as his chest started to rise and fall. “I’m no good for anyone.”

She was stunned for a second, not ever seeing him like this. Of course, he’s always been a gentle kid with way more feelings then he would like to admit but watching the person you love totally break down into a panic attack was unsettling. Her fingers squeeze his gently, she’s here don’t worry.

“Arvin, that’s not true. You are not evil.” She frowns, without him even noticing managing to slip underneath the blanket wrapping her arms around his shoulders, face pressing against the swells of her chest. Fingers play with the soft brown strings. “What happen to them was an act -.”

“If you say God I might scream.” Arvin doesn’t fight the comfort, the softness of her breast, sweet smell of perfume relaxes him completely.

“I was going to say an act of themselves. You are not responsible for others choices, you can’t change what will happen.” Arvin doesn’t say anything else, he stews in the words.

“Now,” Soft pads trace his jaw, touching the highs of his cheeks to make his eyes meet hers. “I don’t want to ever hear any of that ‘I’m cursed’ bullshit again, it is not you. You are not evil and you haven’t lost everyone that loves you.”

Arvin doesn’t need anything else said, he knew exactly what she meant. All he could think was my best-friend, my lover, he pushes up from the bed slowly pressing his lips to hers. It was surprising but without a second thought her lips found his back, meeting in a slow, meaningful kiss. “Imma marry you.”

“oh that’s it? No asking me, nothing?” He rolls his eyes lightly, the first smile in days had graced his face, it was short lived but the sight made her heart flutter.

“ya see babe? I think you knew you were going to marry me the moment you laid eyes on me, always trying to make kissy face when we were younger.” He’s playful, something about growing up together makes it easy to be.

“well who’s making kissy face now?” Arvin’s lips meet hers once again, a subtle way to show his defeat.

A few days later despite how empty his chest felt he went back to work, mostly for the ambition of buying that shinny ring he promised. He was hoping in two weeks he’d have enough to ask properly, he wanted the prettiest one for his girl.

The sheriff stopped him a few day later, right when he was ready to go home, whispers of Lenora being pregnant out of wedlock but it didn’t make any sense. Why would she kill yourself over a baby? She would have all the support in the world, and would have made a great mother.

Then it hit him, who’s baby was it? The only time she’d ever spend was at her mother’s grave. Her mother’s grave and then the preacher… It all suddenly made sense. He felt sick to his stomach as he decided on walking home.. did he tell Nana? It would only break her heart more.

Walking past the cemetery he couldn’t help but notice the flashy, white car. He was about to give the preacher a piece of his mind before a girl no older then sixteen had climbed into the back of it, He couldn’t watch, he felt sick besides he had all of the evidence he needed.

The preacher had taken advantage of her, using God to trick her, and then not wanting to be shammed found a way to fix it. Lenora killed herself because she was afraid of the shame.

Tom slammed the door rather fast, walking right past the two most important women in his life in the kitchen and headed straight for his bedroom. The gun, he needed the gun that was in that stupid box under the bed.

“Arv? Is everything okay honey?” Of course she was here, why couldn’t you just stay away and make this less hard? It was so hard to make a decision when the voice of an angel would call him back to reality.

Killing the preacher meant breaking his promise to her, he wouldn’t marry her but run away, betray every word he said. Lenora deserved better, she deserved revenge.

On the topic of marriage it only made him face the fact that Lenora will never get married now because of that preacher and made his hands shake, tears of frustration run down his cheeks. His head was pounding from all the thinking, fighting with himself over wrong and right.

She enters without warning with a sigh, delicate fingers wrapping around him. “It’s okay, shhh.”

One more night with his love couldn’t hurt, one more night filled with comfort. After all the preacher wasn’t going anywhere. “What happened?”

“I’m fine darlin’,” Arvin wipes his tear filled cheeks, smiling sadly at her. Of course he wasn’t going to tell her, he had to convince her he was fine. “I jus’ miss her is all.”

“Me too, it’s not the same without her.” He nods in agreement wrapping his arms tightly around her back, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. “I love you, and I don’t want you to forget it.”

“I love you to Arv.” Nothing else was said, she decided to stay that night with him. It was surprising.. sharing a bed with a man that is not yet her husband but after him begging it was hard to say no, especially in his time of grieving. Arvin wanted to hold her one last night before he slips away in the morning, and that is exactly what he did. All night held her, stole small kisses as she slept. Before the sun even reached the sky he was gone, but not before placing the small box on the night table.

It was nothing fancy, a small rock with a shiny silver band but it felt right since it rightfully belonged to her. The owner of his heart. With one last kiss to her forehead Arvin was gone but it would not be the last time they meet. Faith had other plans for the pair, their destiny had been written long ago.

[burning-clutch]

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death 

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.”  One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they’ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here”  Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.  

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin.  “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total:  2363

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Oh, that bit about Karl’s powers and XD’s company at the beginning of the overwatch timeline made the karlnapity brain go brrrrrrr, bro!! Very long post ahead!!!! And I know the chatfic is coming soon, and I totally understand if you wanna reserve the blog’s attention for that once it comes out because I am also extremely excited for it, so publish this whenever you want!! Also good luck with the title and summary!!

So like, it’s a few years after Overwatch fell, and Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl are more or less content! They feel for Sam and the other original members, they do, but Overwatch and the omnics honestly weren’t a very big part of their world. They all made it through the omnic crisis just fine, and now they’re just going about their lives in the relative peacetime. They’re even engaged, vague plans of a marriage someday cobbling together bit by bit, but they’re in no rush. They’re happy!

And then Karl finds out about this interesting experiment that’s looking into real, live, actual time travel. Like!! Karl was psyched enough when space travel started getting big again; he knows just about everything there is to know about Horizon One for someone who’s never been there. If time travel turns out to be real? Karl wants in, and he wants in now.

Sapnap and Quackity are half-convinced it’s a scam or a gimmick or something. Sure, they personally knew what amounted to a superhero team a few years ago, but there’s a difference between a small group of skilled fighters and literal time travel. Especially since it’s an XD-sponsored endeavor, Quackity is certain there’s some catch. If nothing else, it’s probably a way to waste a lot of people’s time and money to get XD some good press again.

But Karl is so excited to check it out, neither of them want to try particularly hard to shut him down. They decide they’ll keep an eye on it, obviously, just in case, but they wish Karl good luck and a good time. So he heads out with high hopes and a little suitcase, promising to call every night and to see them soon.

And for the first few days, it goes great! Karl does call them every day and talks for at least an hour about everything he’s learning about this theoretical time travel and how it’ll work: a ship called the Slipstream, which is supposed to use teleportation technology to travel between places in negative time, thus creating functional time travel. Sapnap and Quackity reserve their doubts, but Karl’s having the time of his life either way, and they’re glad to hear him so happy. Especially when he tells them that he gets to get in the ship and take it on a test flight tomorrow - not to try out the time travel yet, but just to make sure he knows how to fly it. Karl gets to fly a ship!! He’s gonna be an actual pilot!! He’s so excited!!!

Karl hangs up that night, clearly over the moon, and Sapnap and Quackity resolve themselves happily to at least four hours on the phone tomorrow night, hearing all about the flight and how it went and what Karl is looking forward to.

And the next night, the hour comes, and Sapnap and Quackity settle on the couch with snacks and drinks, ready for a good long listening session. They wait for the phone to ring. And wait. And wait.

After an hour, they reason that maybe the test flight took longer than expected. Maybe Karl is tired out from flying it. Maybe Karl got distracted. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Either way, it’s not like they had agreed that he’d call at this specific time. So there’s no need to worry. They’re not worried.

Another hour passes. And then another, and another, and soon midnight finds Sapnap and Quackity, sitting in the kitchen with mugs of tea long since cooled, watching a phone that won’t ring. Looking up the experiment or the Slipstream doesn’t bring up any bad news, which sets them both a bit at ease; no news is good news, right? At least for now?

Uneasily, they decide to go to bed. Karl will have to have called or at least texted by morning, surely. And if not, they’ll call him, and then they’ll call the number they were given for questions about the experiment. There’s no reason to worry.

Despite having no reason to worry, when morning comes without word from Karl, Sapnap and Quackity worry. When they call Karl, it goes straight to voicemail. When they call the number for the experiment, it’s disconnected. When they look up the experiment and the Slipstream and XD in general, they notice what they hadn’t last night: not only is there no news, there’s no mention of the experiment. The website Karl had learned about the experiment from is gone. XD’s website makes no mention of time travel. Even with all of Quackity’s investigative power, as far as the world wide web is concerned, there has never been a ship or shuttle with the name Slipstream.

It’s like the whole project never existed at all, and Karl Jacobs along with it.

Thus begins Sapnap and Quackity’s investigation. They call anyone who will listen, telling them that Karl is missing and it’s almost certainly the fault of XD and his company and please please please help them find out what happened. They become the most annoying thorn in XD’s side in months, calling every division in every company several times over, demanding answers. At one point, they’re discreetly contacted and offered hush money if they just drop it, and Sapnap has never screamed so loud in his life as when he told them exactly what they could do with that money. Quackity immediately tries to follow up, tracing the offer to gather proof that something must have happened if they’re trying to cover it up, and only runs into a brick wall. XD is infuriatingly good at covering his tracks.

What finally marks the turning point in their investigation is XD’s most common underestimation: common human decency between strangers. Quackity and Sapnap are anonymously contacted by someone who was working in the experiment’s division and heard about their search, someone who has access to Slipstream plans and blueprints. Through them, Quackity and Sapnap learn that Karl vanished because he was pressured into activating the time travel function on his test flight, despite the fact that it wasn’t ready yet. They’re also given early blueprints for the Slipstream, which include some of the plans for the time travel mechanism.

It’s this mechanism that Sam is able to study and rework and reverse engineer, eventually leading to the development of the chronal accelerator, which should, in theory, bring Karl back.

And it had been a rough time for Quackity and Sapnap, spending nearly all of their free time trying to gather resources and to find the truth and then to help Sam however he needed. They’ve undergone their respective breakdowns, supporting each other through them: Sapnap kept Quackity from burying himself too deeply in his work and his research, getting him to sleep and eat regularly. In turn, Quackity made sure he was available for Sapnap to talk and vent to, redirecting his steadily burning fury to constructive outlets. They’ve settled into an uneasy but manageable rhythm of getting through the days, haunted though they are by the uncertainty of where Karl is and when (if) they’ll see him again. And with the invention of the chronal accelerator, they’re both struggling with just how much hope they can afford. If this doesn’t work - if they get so close to finally getting Karl back, only to fail… it’s not something they want to think about.

So when Sam calls them down to his workshop, saying that he thinks he has a working model to recover their fiance, they arrive hand-in-hand, Quackity guarded, Sapnap cautiously optimistic. They gather around the workbench, surrounding Sam’s invention, a mechanical-looking harness with a glowing, green-and-purple spiral at its heart. Sam looks to them, hovering one hand over the activation switch, waiting for their signal.

They share a glance. Sapnap squeezes Quackity’s hand, steady and secure. No matter what, it promises. No matter what, I’ll still be here. I’m with you.

They both nod to Sam, and he flips the switch.

The harness hums and crackles to life, its spiral glowing brighter and starting to spin. Sam stands at the ready, watching six different monitors to ensure nothing goes wrong. Sapnap and Quackity lean on each other, nearly holding their breath, eyes glued to the accelerator.

Slowly, a figure fizzles into existence. Half-transparent, arms curled close to their chest, they glance around the room, looking lost and unsure, until they meet eyes with Sapnap and Quackity. Then their eyes go wide, one hand rising to their mouth, hanging open in shock.

Sapnap? says the ghost of Karl Jacobs. Quackity?

And in the next second, the ghost comes back to life, lungs filling with air, color rushing to his cheeks, solidity returning to his form. And Karl gasps, coughs, leans forward with one hand clapped over the accelerator, and his gaze doesn’t leave his fiances for a second. He extends one shaking arm, reaching for his fiances with an open hand. The tension shatters.

Sapnap closes the distance in half a second, Quackity barely a breath behind. The fiances collapse against the table as the two of them all but tackle Karl. Because Karl is real, Karl is alive, Karl is here in front of them. The lingering doubts that have dogged their footsteps vanish. The fear in their hearts that three engagement rings would become two wedding rings dissolves. The aching absence they’ve felt between them for months melts away in tears and sobs and bone-crushing hugs, the three of them relishing the hard-regained closeness, pressing together as the weight of the world lifts from all of their shoulders.

They’re together again.

[ziracona]

[Very excited for the next bit & hopefully life quits kicking my butt soon so I can get it done. Anyway, an update.]

The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, ?) [Fate Grand Order AU]

Adrenaline pumping so fast I think I might puke, my hand is already up and I’m halfway to shouting Billy’s name to summon him when the door opens again.

I stop, unused command seal on my lips, and stare as it shuts again and locks, then opens quick. It. OH.

I feel my face on fire as it clicks. I am so glad no one was here to see this. It must automatically lock—must have been locking every time it shut. The pattern is just repeating again, and I couldn’t see the lock from the other side.

Okay. Okay… I make myself take a long, deep breath. You’re okay.

It’s…funny. I wasn’t scared at all until I was alone, and now I’m…completely freaked, I think. …Maybe I was scared before, too, but not like this. It’s okay. You can call for help if you need it. You know they’re all depending on you, so you have to do a good job. You can do this, Ritsuka. Come on1

Right. So. I’m okay. Whoever opened the door is not trying to lock me in, as far as I know anyway. Why did they call me?

Remembering I haven’t, I turn and look at the room behind me. It’s lit, but only dimly. It…kind of looks like a hospital room? But. An old one, and not a very nice one. Like they do in movies from earlier times. There’s almost…a replica of a room? Built into the middle of this one. It’s…like in Mission Impossible movies, when they finish tricking someone and pull down the walls and it wasn’t really a hotel room at all. There’s two windows, and I can’t exactly see what’s in the room from where I am, but I can tell that whoever is in there is seeing little medical set pieces left outside them. This is weird.

It's…way more elaborate than any of the others have been. That seems really strange. Are they actually trying to trick whoever is in there?

I can’t think of another reason to do this.

And there is someone in there, right? There’s gotta be. Or, why would I be getting a call for help? So, a heroic spirit, in a really weird death trap? One that is tricking them into thinking they’re somewhere else. That’s…meaner, somehow, I think. I feel a pang in my chest at the guesses I’m making in my head. I hate this—I hate all of this. I just can’t understand why they’re doing it at all. It’s all been bad since that moment I first saw Billy from across a room, but I really can’t get the way the Lancer looked out of my head. I keep wondering how it would feel to be alive and see your guts hanging out on the ground, and I hate that thought—it makes me sick imagining it, but I can’t stop. And he did—he lived that for real! Minutes ago. Minutes ago, he was hanging there with his guts on the ground and a pole through his stomach. He felt all of that, all of it. For he said two and a half days. I…I can’t even…begin to imagine…

And. ...The other thing is, I also keep thinking that none of the spirits liked it, when they saw him like that, but, none of them seemed really…surprised. I wonder. …I wonder if that means this isn’t so different from other things that happen to them. I. I really hope it is—I hope this is nothing like what normally happens, and I’m just making a big deal of nothing in my head. I hope the worst of it is being bossed around and made to fight, because that’s bad enough. But.

I…might not be experienced, but. I’m not stupid. And…I know it’s more than that…

I know it’s worse…

Okay. Come on. Time for this later. Get moving! It’s about them and you want to help them, so let’s go—let’s help! You got this.

Shaking myself internally, I give the stuff around me a quick glance. First thing, better let the person opening the door know they can stop—that’ll eventually draw attention. Whoever it is can’t see me, in Robin’s cloak, and I’m a little afraid to take it off, so…

Settling on a nearby medical cabinet prop, I walk over and open one of the drawers a few times. It works. Whoever it is might not see me, but they can sure see the ghost cabinet, and they take the hint. The door closes and stays shut, which…is unsettling, but. I pretty much just asked for them to do that, so. It’s probably okay. And if anything seems off, I can call for backup. Whoever is out there asked for my help, though, so I’m gonna believe that was sincere until I have proof otherwise, and I’m gonna try.

Turning, I go slowly towards the little mock room ahead, and hesitate at the door. It doesn’t have a window, but it has an old-fashioned keyhole, so I stoop and peer inside. It’s not a good angle, but I can make out a hospital bed in there, with a body on it. I think their eyes are open, but they’re perfectly still. There’s something unsettling about the sight, even after everything I’ve seen today. And there’s…something else. A weird…heaviness, to the room. Some kind of mana, I think, but I don’t know enough about magic to tell what it is. I do know enough to be able to tell whatever it is, isn’t good.

I consider my options. I can still hear fighting faintly above me, so I shouldn’t call for help unless I need it—I might mess them up. I could wait, but now that they know we’re here, they might start killing the spirits they have. So…I should go ahead and go in alone. It’s not like I haven’t done that before. And…it should be fine. If I explain who I am, I think I’ll be safe, and if anything starts to go wrong, I’ll call for help.

My heart’s thudding in my chest so much I feel like throwing up, but I clench my fist and bring it in tight against my chest, then reach my hands up and pull off the hood of Robin’s cloak. I’m not totally sure how it works, and if it’s the action, or the fact I want to stop being invisible, but I see myself again as I do it. No going back I guess. If I’m on camera, I’m on camera. I pause to take a deep breath, and turn the knob.

It isn’t locked.

The door swings open, and before me, I can clearly make out now what looks like a pretty convincing old-fashioned hospital room. Not…in a good way. There are bars over the windows, and straps on the bed, for holding patients down, and here’s a man on the bed, held in place by them.

It…it feels so unnecessary. He looks ill, like he probably would have trouble getting up off the bed no matter what, and a little old. White hair, but a face not as old as I expect with it. I have a hard time telling how old adult people are when they’re between 40 and 70, and he seems not at the older end of that spectrum, but at first glance I thought for a moment he was older. His face is haggard, worn out like he’s on the verge of death. Huge bags under his eyes, gaunt features, and his eyes themselves are milky and vacant. There’s…something really wrong with him. He’s got a bandage on his head too, and one around his throat, both blead-through a little. What…happened to you?

He doesn’t seem to see me at first. Just keeps staring blankly towards one of the fake windows, then slowly turns his head and his empty eyes towards me.

Something changes. The haze drops, if just a little, and I can see life deep beneath the clouds in his eyes.

“A child?” he asks me. His voice is damaged, from whatever happened to his throat, and he sounds weak, but the thing that stands out isn’t that, it’s how his voice itself sounds. There’s an air I’ve only ever heard from teachers, the good ones—a kind of sophisticated and educated and understanding way of talking that makes them sound smart and kind and good to be around all at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

He tries to smile at me. He looks so weak, it’s pitiful.

“…” I can’t find my voice. I swallow, take a step closer, and try again. “I’m. Ritsuka, Fujimaru—I came here to try to help.”

“Help?” he echoes, confused. There’s…so much pain in his voice too. Like being sad is a part of who he is.

“To—get you out of here,” I manage, taking another step.

His brows knit in weak confusion. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I’m here to help everyone trapped in here anyway,” I answer.

He smiles a little, sadly, and shuts his eyes for a moment, breathing taking immense effort. “That’s very kind of you. It’s not the most comforting place to end a life.” He speaks and his voice has that same tone, gentle, and overflowing with pain. “But I don’t think there’s a lot more you can do for any of us. Than come to visit.” He opens his eyes again and turns his head weakly to look at me. “Which is always nice. It can get lonely in a place like this.”

I don’t. Understand? He.

“You want to get out, right?” I ask, taken aback.

“Of course,” he answers simply, shutting his eyes again, voice and breaths raspy, “But it’s not that simple. I have to be here now, and it won’t be much longer.” He smiles to himself again. “You’re kind to worry for us.”

He sounds like he really means that. I’m so confused—unless—?

Thoughts racing, I take in the room again, the attention to detail. I try hard to focus on the heaviness in the room; I’ve never been good at sensing magic, but I give it everything I’ve got, and I can tell something is not just in the room, it’s on him. A curse? A spell? Maybe…If I can find it, I can…

Taking a step to try and see him up close, he hears me moving and opens his eyes and turns to look. Seeing me, he looks surprised.

“Hello there, little one. What are you doing in a place like this?”

I stop and stare.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned.

“We…just talked—do you not remember me?” I ask. My voice sounds so small it surprises me. I see his face fall. He looks…some kind of very deep sad, like that question cut to his core.

“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes moving to look at something that isn’t me, “My memory isn’t what it was.” He tries to smile at me and looks back again. “What brings someone like you to a place like this?”

“I came…to help you,” I reply meekly. There’s no recognition in his eyes. Just mild surprise again.

What did they. …Why did they...

“Sir,” I say, taking another step, “Do you know that you’re a heroic spirit?”

I think he almost laughs, and I can see in his face he has no idea not only what he is, but what a heroic spirit is at all. “I appreciate the compliment, but there’s really nothing heroic about me,” he says like he’s found my question very sweet.

Oh boy. What do I do? I don’t know complex magic. I can’t…I can’t fix this on my own, unless, if I can get him to contract, I could with a command spell, but. If he doesn’t even know what heroic spirits are, he’ll never agree! He won’t even be able to. And, if I try to explain, and he thinks what I’m doing is super weird, he might freak out, and- …Okay, okay, come on, think. Stay cool.

“What happened?” I ask, indicating his injuries as I move closer. I’m almost at the bedside now, and there’s a little metal chair there. I move it beside him and sit down, like I really am someone who came to visit a hospital room.

No. Not hospital. Asylum.

His face loses the little color it had.

“I’m sorry—I—maybe that’s too personal,” I say quickly, feeling very bad, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

He gives me a kindly smile. “Fell,” he answers, and he tries to indicate I think the head wound, but can’t because he’s strapped down, and I see surprise and then pain and shame with it register on his face as he looks down at himself. You forgot. That too…

“What’s your name?” I ask, hoping to distract him.

It sort of works. He glances back at me, surprised again. “You don’t know me? Are you just visiting everyone here today?”

“Yes,” I answer, because in a way that’s true.

He smiles. There’s barely anything but skin and bones on his face. He looks so ill I believe what he said earlier, about how it wouldn’t be much longer. “That’s kind of you,” he says again, “I’m sure it will cheer all of us up. It can get a little boring around here, the days long.”

The thought of how true that must be is agonizing. It makes me want to cry. Whoever he was, this must have been how he died, a long time ago. Alone, hurt, and with a broken memory, in an asylum. I can’t think of many lonelier ways to go.

“My name is Antonio,” he says. He must have been some kind of teacher, the way he sounds proud and welcoming at once saying his own name.

“I’m Ritsuka,” I introduce myself again, “Fujimaru.”

“Ritsuka,” he echoes, curious, “Where are you from?”

“Japan,” I answer.

“Your Italian is perfect—even the accent,” he says.

“We aren’t speaking Italian,” I say before I can think not to.

Something cracks in his face. He winces, almost like a full-body tick. His eyes get vacant, and then very, very alive for just a moment, and there’s horror in them.

“I,” he says, faltering. Listening. “Sto…parlando Italiano…No.”

Crap. Crap crap crap.

He looks at me, terrified. Right on the edge of understanding something, and unable to make it.

“What am I?” he begs me in his broken voice. It’s not what I thought he’d say, and I am completely lost in how to answer him. “Who?” He tries to move his hands again, and can’t and in despair tries to rip them free. Failing again, he turns back to me, desperate. “Please!”

“It’s okay—it’s okay--I’m here to help you!” I promise. I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me like I’m doing this and he’s begging me to stop. I would never. “I know this is confusing—I don’t know what they did to you, but they messed with your head.”

“My?” He tries to move a hand again, already having forgotten, and looks down in despair at the restraints, then me.

“Here,” I say quickly, and I unthread the ones around his wrists, then chest. Still unbelievably weak, he raises a shaking hand to his head and feels it, wincing, then brings it down to his neck and leaves it there.

Staring into space, confused and horrified, and out of it.

“Antonio?” I try.

He glances at me again, distracted, but more awake than he was.

“I can help you, but I need you to trust me to do it.” I look at my hand, then hold it out to him, palm-up. “You’re still you, whoever you were before. You’re still Antonio. But it’s later than you think, and you’re a little different too. I can explain, but I think if you trust me, I can fix what they did to you, and you’ll be able to remember on your own. That way will make a lot more sense.”

“Trust you,” he echoes, and I see the fog starting to settle back over his eyes, his previously terrified posture starting to go slack.

“No-no-no-no, hey!” I say, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

That does something, and he blinks and looks at my hand. I’m so afraid he’s going to ask me who I am again, but instead he says, “What?” in a kind of out of it voice.

Crap crap I’m gonna lose him.

“Listen to me. I’m speaking Japanese right now, and so are you. This place?” I say, letting go and hopping up, idea formed, “It’s not real—You’re not where you think!” I run at the nearest wall and slam into it, and it topples back like the set piece it is, and he watches in horror and jerks when it thuds against the floor, then stares at the room past it in alarm. “You’re being kept here against your will, and the people who did this are messing with your head! I can help you—I came here to help, but you have to trust me.”

Face ashy, he focuses back on me.

“If you form a pact with me, I can help you,” I say more calmly, going to sit back down.

“I don’t-“ he starts, and then he winces again, that full-body kind of jerk, like something has cracked inside him, and when he looks at me again, the fog has receded a little. “I’m…you said, ‘heroic spirit.’ I’m…dead. …I’m…I’m not…Antoino… I am…I’m…I…”

I’m losing him again and he’s staring at the wall. I reach over and put my hands on his and that snaps him out and he looks at me again. “You are. You’re Antonio. You’re Antonio…?”

“Salieri,” he says almost vacantly, but his eyes are still alive, and holding mine. I can see him deep in there past whatever Ur-shanabi’s done to him, fighting.

“You’re Antonio Salieri,” I echo, “And you’re a heroic spirit. If you form a contract with me, I can help you. I’ll try to anyway, if you don’t want to, but I’m not very good at magic. I’ll do my best, but I swear, if you are willing to form a contract, I won’t do anything to hurt you—I’m only here to try—”

There’s a loud sound between a thud and a hum, and we both look up towards the source of it. Something in the ceiling?

Huh.

I was so used to the sound of it, I hadn’t even realized the bedframe itself was making a low-pitched humming as well, but it shuts off and I am immediately aware of the absence of it. We both look in unison again, down at the bedframe, and I see Antonio’s brow furrow in confusion, and then he holds up a hand, and I realize it’s not completely opaque.

It's already not completely opaque.

No. No!

“They pulled the plug!” I say desperately, and he turns his head to look at me again. Whatever they did to make him like this, it must not have been connected to his power source, because he’s just as out of it as before. This is all wrong and he’ll be dead in a few seconds, as fast as he’s starting to vanish! I have to—“Please—hurry—if you vanish they’ll summon you back! I can ground-“

His expression changes entirely.

In an instant, the fog is gone and the welcoming calmness and kindness is gone and his expression is hard and volatile.

I was wrong—whatever curse was on him was connected to his power source, because it is gone now, and it’s like he’s not even the same person he was a moment before. He looks into my face and I’m scared of him. No, I think…I think I’m terrified of this person. He looks like death—he looks like hate—looks like them in a way I had no idea person could look. Like they’re not what he’s feeling, they’re what he is. Meeting his gaze makes me scared he’s going to snap me between his fingers, and not even for any personal reason, just because it’s his nature. But then I’m past that in his eyes, and behind it is the same thing I saw before. The same person, deep beneath it. Kind and intelligent and composed. Like he’s wearing a terrifying Halloween costume over who he really is.

And I’m okay.

I think he sees that, sees all of it, and he looks…hurt and touched and a little surprised, all at the same time. He glances down at me, and then holds out a transparent hand, palm-up.

“I am not much of a servant,” he warns me, and he sounds harder than before, colder, and sharp, but the teacher tone is still there. The one that says ‘I will show you how to do it right even if it takes a long time, don’t worry. Come take a seat,’ all patient, and kind, and knowledgeable. Layered beneath the new tone, the same way the look in his eyes was. “I’ll warn you ahead of time that I’m dangerous to be around, and I haven’t much power to offer you, but if you still want a contract with a servant like me, I will accept your offer.”

“Of course I do,” I say without hesitation, and I take his hand, “But I don’t want a servant. I want a partner.”

He tilts his head like this is unexpected, but somehow his face doesn’t look too surprised, and he closes his vanishing fingertips around mine.

“My soul becomes your will, your spirit becomes my destiny. If you hear me and accept my call, then bind to me-“ I realize I have no idea what his class is and look to him.

“Avenger,” he says in that broken, sad voice, but he has a weak smile on his face.

‘Avenger’? “-Avenger,” I finish.

“I accept,” he replies, and I feel a tug on my chest and flood of mana, and I thought I’d be fine because I’m getting used to this, but I forgot I’m kind of beat right now, and I think I pass out—only for a second, but I’m upright, and then I’m face-first on the bed, no idea how I got there, the Avenger gently helping me back up.

I feel awful, but he’s solid again, mostly, and looking better. I mentally check to make sure everyone I have a contract with is still alive, and I feel all the connections going strong.

“Great,” I say weakly, grinning at him, “We did it.”

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Mmm…hh..” I slump forward and pass out.

[curls-cat]

the house creaks a lullaby

For @grimmtober day 2: haunted house. Also on AO3 and ff.net under the same name, as per usual. Not linking so people can, y’know, see it. Sabrina/Red established relationship.

When Baba Yaga leaves the chicken house to Red in her will, everyone is surprised. Surprised, first off, that the crone has disappeared (not died, Daphne assures them. Just gone off somewhere). And surprised, again, that she had a will at all, that she didn’t just take all her stuff with her. And surprised, lastly, that she’d leave the place to Red, of all people.

Even Red was surprised.

“I didn’t know you two even knew each other,” Sabrina says. She tries hard not to make it sound accusatory. Just because they’re A Thing doesn’t mean they need to tell each other everything.

“She’s been trying to help me deal with the Wolf,” Red says.

And that makes sense. It makes sense that Red wouldn’t tell Sabrina, too. They don’t talk about the Wolf a lot. Red doesn’t like it, any more than Sabrina likes talking about the way her parents lied to her for a decade. They both have people that have hurt them. They’re both learning how to live with those people. And it’s still hard, even though they’re adults now.

Sabrina doesn’t ask how that went. If Red wants her to know, she’ll tell her. If she doesn’t want her to know, Sabrina can live with the worry. What she does say is, “So are you going to move in?”

Red shrugs. “I might as well. It’s weird, now that Granny’s gone. The house doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says. She gets it. When she comes home from college, she tries not to stay overnight. Red comes to her more often than not.

“Do you want to help me move in?” Red asks, and she sounds kind of hesitant. “I thought maybe…” She doesn’t finish the thought.

Sabrina thinks she knows where it’s going, though. They’ve been seeing each other for nearly five years, now. Red has a drawer of stuff in Sabrina’s dorm, and a toothbrush. Her hair product is in a little caddy. Sabrina’s roommate has Red’s phone number. If Red has her own place…

Well.

Sabrina and Red are, in a lot of ways, a package deal these days.

*

“I swear this place is haunted,” Sabrina says. She’s brandishing a mop like a club, having just jumped nearly a foot in the air when a bookshelf full of jars of slimy Somethings fell over.

They’ve been trying to clean out the chicken house for about a week now, and it’s as bad as Sabrina had anticipated. Baba Yaga lived in freaking filth. The bathroom is buried in so much grime Sabrina can barely see where the sink ends and the wall starts, and the food in the fridge probably predates refrigeration in general.

“I don’t think ghosts are real,” Red says, but she doesn’t sound as sure as she did a week ago.

“Oh, they definitely are,” Sabrina says. “I’ve been possessed. It sucked.”

“You’ve been what?” Red demands, whipping around to stare her girlfriend in the face. She slips and falls into the slimy things, and hisses. She’s cut herself on one of the broken jars.

Sabrina heads for the first aid kit. It’s not the first time they’ve needed it. “It wasn’t that big a deal,” she says as she rips open an alcohol swap and reaches for Red’s arm. “When we went to the city, back the first year I lived in town? When Puck needed healing.”

Red nods. “Daphne told me about it,” she says. They can talk about Puck without it being weird for either of them, now. It probably helps that he’s not around a lot.

“Well, Oberon got murdered while we were there, and we were following all these stupid leads to find out who killed him.” As Sabrina talks, she wipes off Red’s cut. She needs to use more than one. Red’s arm has some sort of green jelly on it. “One of ‘em was Scrooge, and he did some sort of spiritual conduit, and it turns out I’m sort of a natural medium or something. Ghosts can possess me easier than other people.”

“Great,” Red says, and she sounds grumpy. “One more thing to watch out for.” Red has made it her personal mission to protect Sabrina from all the things in the world that want to take advantage of her. It makes Sabrina’s heart melt every time she does it, even though she’s tried to point out that she can take care of herself. There’s only so many times you can hear ‘but you shouldn’t have to’ in response to that before it makes you want to cry, it turns out.

“I think we should be a little more concerned about you getting some weird disease from this gunk,” Sabrina says. “I’ve been possessed a grand total of once in twenty-one years. Which is probably less time than whatever this stuff is has been fermenting.”

“I’ll be fine,” Red says dismissively. She swipes up some of the gunk and gives it a sniff. “I think it’s calendula, actually.”

“What?”

“For bruising. An old cure. My mother used to use it.” Red’s voice only barely breaks on the word ‘mother.’

Sabrina squeezes Red’s forearm, a sign of solidarity. She covers the cut in gauze, then wraps it with tape a few times. “Come on,” she says at last. “Get out of this mess so I can clean it up.”

*

Cleaning out the house takes a long time. They can’t do it all themselves, either, because Sabrina can’t touch the magic items. They still sing to her, even all these years later, a dangerous call for a power she doesn’t even want, really, much as it draws her in. And Red is always afraid of what’s going to interact with the already dangerous concoction of Wolf-and-girl-and-witchcraft inside her. So anything that calls Sabrina’s name is picked up with a very long stick and thrown into a bag for Daphne to pick over. She’ll be ecstatic, when they finally hand it to her.

In the meantime, they clean, and things keep falling over. It’s kind of helpful, actually. Nothing falls over that they wanted to keep, and aside from the times they trip and fall into the mess, there are no injuries.

“I think it might be a helpful ghost,” Red says, when a pile of rotting newspapers just happens to topple out the window. She leans against her broom thoughtfully.

“Maybe it’s the house itself,” Sabrina suggests. It weirds her out, but she’s getting better about that sort of thing. Magic isn’t the problem, she keeps reminding herself. It’s people, and how they use it. Look at Red. Someone this kind can’t be wrong, just because she’s got something powerful inside her.

“Would make sense,” Red agrees. “It is alive, after all.”

They’re keeping the house in the front yard of the house that used to be Granny’s, for now. At the end of the night, they’ll walk it as close to the nearby dump as they can get it without being seen, to lug out the day’s trash.

“Whatever it is,” Sabrina says, looking around askance, “I hope it can’t actually, y’know, see us.”

“Why?” Red asks.

“Because,” Sabrina says, and she reaches out and grabs Red by the waist, reels her in. “I’d like to know I can have some time alone with you.”

“Hm,” Red says, turning a smile on Sabrina, leaning in for a kiss. “I think I’d like that.”

*

Nothing falls over, and when they emerge from the bedroom much later, both streaked with way more dust than when they started and clothes askew, the house seems no different.

“So we can get alone time,” Red says brightly, looking around . “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina agrees.

“It’s especially great,” Red says, winding her fingers through Sabrina’s, “because I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me. Once you graduate.”

Sabrina knew this was coming. The question still melts her. She looks around the living room, the room they’ve been cleaning out together. The room they picked a paint color for together, too. The room whose floors Sabrina scrubbed and whose furniture Red has discussed picking up from goodwill. A place they’re rebuilding together. It already feels like it’s not just Red’s home, it’s theirs.

“Yeah,” she says, leaning in to give Red another kiss. “Yes. I’d love to live with you.”

[nlights37]

three stars ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

::In very convincing Matthew McConaughey Texan:: Alright alright alright, 3 stars, 3 fics to disclose little nuggets of info on...

1.  From Fixer Upper, Chapter 4 - Jon and Dany’s text exhange:

She was laughing even as she sent the text, knowing how touchy he was about this topic. Honestly, it was the whole reason she sent it.

Dany: I can’t believe we’ve been fake dating this long and you haven’t sent me a single dick pic 😖

The text bubble appeared for so long she was a little worried, but then his novel-length answer appeared. She was two lines in before she was laughing so hard she was crying and her vision blurred beyond her ability to continue reading at all.

Jon: How ABSOLUTELY DARE YOU?! Apparently I need to explain this AGAIN? If the Westerosi Security Agency is going to see my dick they can come here and do it in person like men. I’m not just gonna offer it up on a silver platter for them. Also need I remind you I am a small business owner, madam? This store is my kingdom and you ask me to besmirch it’s good name so you can see my cock at 2 pm on a Thursday? I’m disappointed in you Daenerys, I really am.

It should probably come as no surprise, given the ‘Buttslut’ text I shared awhile back, that a lot of the dialogue I write (including text messages) comes from the way my husband and I talk to each other, and in this case I based Jon’s reluctance to free the Peen digitally off my own husband’s unbreakable stance that sending dick pics means your dick is then somewhere in the cloud and idk I guess he thinks the Governtment is just chilling and collecting nudes all day.  Anyway, I really did ask him once when we were dating why he had never sent me a dick pic and he said something along the lines of Jon’s response here, and even now, years later, it still makes me laugh, so I used it :)

2.  A Thin Line (Just some thoughts on this fic in general, that I’m not sure I’ve shared):

I was SURE, ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that a lot of people would hate this fic.  Like, I was over the top about ‘Hey this is crack’, etc, because as much fun as I had making them just awful people to each other, I was like ‘ugh there’s gonna be some stans in both camps that maybe get pissed about this’, but I figured fuck it, let’s do it.  The thing about them in this fic that I really, really enjoyed writing was that they are completely and totally unapologetic about themselves, and letting myself just really let them be the worst versions of themselves, I don’t know, guys.  It felt good.  So good that I was like ‘hmmmm, maybe keep it in the drafts.’

Because that’s the thing I like best about them and this fic - it’s not a redemption story about two tortured souls who find each other and then learn the error of their ways.  It’s more like two villains meet at villain convention and will they birth the antichrist?  Who knows, really, but probably, yes.  Definitely.

Anyway, I really dug that so many people enjoyed their unspeakably assholish tendencies and please know I haven’t abandoned my part 3, in which Dany gets to snob it up in the North and you know, so more light bondage, maybe some matching prenups, I don’t want to give it all away.

3.  From Fang and Claw, Chapter 1:

“When you say fucking,” Drogon drawled, “what exactly do you mean, snack?”  The three were all gathered near the stone walls of the Keep, guards watching anxiously as the three creatures of legend circled and paced.

“Stop calling him that.”  Rhaegal leaned in, nipping at Drogon’s swishing black tail.  “He has a name.”

Drogon rolled his eyes, looking at his brother incredulously.  “I’ll call him whatever I like.  What’s he going to do?  Howl me to death?”

Rhaegal glared, inching closer to Ghost.  “He’s magic, like us, and he’s Jon’s, so you’d better behave.”  The green dragon growled.  “You know what mother said.”

The black dragon gave a dismissive snort, his eyes searching the windows of the Keep instead of Rhaegal or Ghost.  “Be nice.  Yes, I heard her.  This is me.  Being nice.  Not eating this talking little snack.”  His eyes shot to the wolf’s.  “Rather nice of me, isn’t it,” teeth gnashed together, grinding as Drogon uttered grudgingly, “Ghost.”

The white wolf ignored the black dragon, his eyes also falling to the windows.  “You want to know what fucking is or don’t you?”

“I want to know what it is you mean when you say Jon is fucking my mother, yes.”  Drogon sounded angry, offended even, and Ghost was surprised two mighty creatures could be so absolutely innocent to the ways of the world.  Why, he’d been fucking for years now.  Surely there were girl dragons flying about somewhere, though the lack of fucking certainly explained the black dragon’s horrible attitude.

“I feel itchy.”  Rhaegal was shifting restlessly beside him.

Ghost gave a wolfish grin.  “You’re bonded to Jon now.”  Rhaegal nodded though it was not a question.  “That’s what it feels like when Jon’s fucking your mother.”  The wolf’s mouth fell open, and he panted in Drogon’s direction.  “Like an itch you need to scratch.”

His red eyes fell to the windows till he found the one he wanted, and he whispered for the duo to follow as closely as they could as they slid along side the ancient stone, ‘til they were just under the window to Jon’s chambers.

“Hear that?”  He certainly could, and by the look of confusion on the dragons’ faces they could as well.  The Silver Dany let out a throaty yell then, followed by Jon’s name, the sounds and smells of mating flowing from the open window and out into the night.

“Is he hurting her?”  Drogon was rumbling and thrashing his tail about, rage building in those mad eyes.

But Rhaegal responded before Ghost could answer.  “No.”  He drew the word out, his head rising until he could look into the room for himself, then shooting back down to stare at Ghost.  “Why are they doing that?”

Drogon mirrored his brother’s actions, even angrier but endlessly puzzled when he lowered his head as well, clearly befuddled by what he’d seen.  “Explain this!”

Ghost gave a shrug, padding off a few paces, ready to give his brother a spot of privacy with his mate, heading for the clearing along the tree line where he could scent some rabbits running.  “It’s what they do.”  The pair was scrambling after him, landbound, awkwardly lumbering after the sleek wolf.  “Humans.”  Both dragons remained clueless, and Ghost snagged a hare and crunched down heavily, warm blood streaking his fur, downing the small prey in a few bites before continuing.  “When they want to make a pup.”

Drogon shuddered as he watched Ghost eat.  “You’re a fucking savage.”  He grumbled and groused, claws swiping out to catch an elk, idly shooting out gouts of flame to cook the meat before he began to tear it apart.  “You don’t even cook your food, little snack.”

Rhaegal ignored it all, focused only on this new knowledge.  “But our mother is a dragon.”  His eyes lit up, suddenly, turning to his brother in excitement.  “It’s how they make eggs!”

Ghost gave a snicker.  “Humans don’t lay eggs.”  He looked at the pair with amused eyes.  “You lot come from eggs?”

Rhaegal gave a nod, but Drogon preened, proud as he broke his meal’s rib cage between his jaws.  “You should be so lucky.  We certainly do.  Beautiful eggs people pay large sums of gold for.”

Ghost crouched, his attention on the deer he could now sense beyond the tree line.  “Like a chicken then.”  He leapt as the black dragon roared in outrage, his jaws sinking into the deer’s neck, and he pulled the twitching body out of the treeline to drop it in a heap before Rhaegal.

“NOT LIKE A CHICKEN!”

Rhaegal looked at Ghost pleadingly before he cooked the deer his host had provided, his eyes begging the wolf to stop baiting his brother, and Ghost grumpily complied.

“Alright, not like a chicken.  Point is, humans have pups that look like them, and they don’t come from eggs.”  He sat on his haunches, watching the pair as they ate.

“So,” Rhaegal snapped into a femur, “you meant to say that’s what Jon’s doing.  Trying to put a small human in our mother.”

The wolf couldn’t stop the snicker of amusement.  “Oh, no he’s already done that.”  He looked at the pair wonderingly.  What sort of beast were they, that they couldn’t smell the pup in their mother?  “Now he’s just fucking her because it feels good.”

There is nothing funnier to me than the idea that (1) Ghost would ever try ot explain to anyone what sex is and (2) that the dragons wouldn’t know and would be VERY offended and it took a little bit for me to write this scene way way back ago when we all thought that Season 8 would not be a massive shitstain in history because I kept laughing so hard picturing this shit.

This story is probaby one of my favorites, just because it’s silly and every magical creature is TIRED TIRED I SAY of everyone dicking around and just the notion that they’re all like ‘THESE HUMANS ARE SO DUMB UGH DO WE HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING?!”  It just really tickled me, and I might never have written it had the amazing @aweseeds not requested it after her winning bid for the Jonerys Unites charity event.  So, everyone say thank you to aweseeds lol, this might’ve just stayed in my head and silly tumblr posts without that fine investment in fandom content.

Thank you lovely @frostbitepandaaaaa for the ask!  I LOVE YOU BITCH, I AIN’T NEVER GONNA STOP LOVIN’ YOU BITCH!