#-it straight up killed their parents nd they were handed off by their family like an undesirable for the 'greater good'

[carbonateddelusion]

I think part of Andromeda reclaiming their. everything. post-death of their conservator. would also involve reclaiming their sexuality... I can definitely see that being suppressed as they grow up. they can be "sexual" as long as it's serving their image, but their actual sexuality and romantic attraction is left by the wayside when it isn't helping their image yk? I think Andromeda would be pretty hypersexual for a good while there immediately after the death, and only really calm down once they suddenly have 3 kids to take care of

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there.  So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it.  Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea.  I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George.  I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers.  When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell.  Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall.  Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it.  The sound of a young girl crying.  I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair.  The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek.  “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n).  Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand.  She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground.  I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse.  I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister.  I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck.  “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad.  I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back.  That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her.  She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment.  I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed.  “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through.  Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort.  Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying.  “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said.  Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me.  Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave.  I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent.  I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her.  She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile.  She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs.  I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this.  I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express.  As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes.  He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making.  By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news.  After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me.  She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him.  (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James.  She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back.  “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it.  The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

[gwoongi]

wordless pt.2

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 4.4k warnings: violence mention, toxic relationships, mentioned deaths a/n: oh fyi jeongguk isnt part of the mafias included in these drabbles, he’s a solo hitman who works closely with taehyung nd other mentioned men. he has his own little business/group of hitmen (like the continental kinda style thing) where he’s sort of the big man who people look up to, but he’s not rly mafia :) hope that helps explain stuff hehehe. Also this one is sad heheheh x2

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(11) Telling them a dumb joke just to see them smile.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I really am.”

Next to you on the couch, Jeongguk reaches for your hands that are clamped in your lap. The clock ticks hauntingly slowly, and everything feels dark, and cold, and empty. The front room that is usually vibrant with life and energy is now devoid of emotion, besides the sniffles on the couch that are hidden in shadows.

“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, sniffing once again. “Not your fault.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says, “but I’m still sorry.”

There was nothing that could have been done. Not really, even though Jeongguk repents at the thought that he could have done something. It was an accident, a car that pushed into another one and sent your parents off the bridge and into the Han River. It seemed impossible, but as of late, the impossible became possible. Jeongguk had heard the news several hours after you, contemplating in the silence of your responses over the phone. Eventually, he asked Taehyung and got more than what he bargained for.

“Is there anybody left?” he asks.

“Like my family?”

“Yeah,” he softly answers.

You sniff once more, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “My aunt, she, uh, she lives in Finland, I think. I don’t know, everybody cut ties after you. Well. After, you know.”

Jeongguk gulps sourly, “yeah. After your brother.”

Somewhere in the city, police sirens blare. From in the kitchen, the small radio still reads out a report of the accident, and if Jeongguk were to rise and look out of the window, he might see the flashing lights from the bridge. When the room goes silent, Jeongguk’s just afraid you’ll hear the report and start crying again.

“Can you, um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I don’t know, tell me about your day or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk mutters, rubbing his thumb across your hand. “Wore that badge to work today. You know the Dad one?” You nod and he continues, “Got a stir out of my guys. You were right, Taehyung got salty about it.”

You manage a laugh, little puffs of air from your nose. “I should have got him one. Maybe a brother one, I didn’t see uncles.”

“Fuck him,” Jeongguk says, “My gift, my badge.”

“Don’t wanna upset him,” you shrug pathetically, along with a tight sniff that burns your left nostril.

Jeongguk rubs your arm, “He’s not gonna be upset. Seeing you upset makes me upset, though,” he says quietly, and you peer around your hair at him, “what kind of Dad would I be if I let my little girl be upset, hmmm?”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s feigning an innocence and the sight makes you laugh slightly, not enough to distract you but enough to leave Jeongguk satisfied. He smiles and leans over, dropping his head against yours with a little sigh that blows your hair. It wasn’t enough to distract you from the devastation that is losing your family, but if it’s something to make you feel less alone, then he’ll try.

(12) Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

“I can’t imagine your brother doing this,” Jeongguk says, holding a ribbon of tinsel in his hands with an unconvincing stare thrown in your direction. He does this whilst standing near the doorway, just behind your couch, like he’s ready at any moment to leave or come inside.

As he does this, you’re across the living room, waltzing with a tree that stands on an angle, lopsided and skinny and naked with no decorations. The lights sit in a snake-like swirl on the floor, flickering on one setting and in resignation, you sigh loudly and turn to face him.

“Well, the last time he helped me decorate a tree, I was five,” you reason. “It’s been a long time, but my parents always did this with me, and-”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeongguk frowns. Since the bridge, he’s always walked on eggshells around the subject of parents and traditions. Before he knew it, Christmas was two weeks away, and around his tight schedule and endless demand for his presence at work, he figured he had to make up for the lost time by being with you.

Jeongguk never imagined that he’d rely on you to absolve him of his own boredom and self pity, but here he is, on a Wednesday afternoon in your apartment that he unwillingly thinks of as a retreat, a home away from home when things get too claustrophobic back at his own place. Things are messy and complicated and cold there. He likes being here, because of how it feels being here.

But maybe he’s here out of guilt, and you stare at him for a few seconds, recognising this unfamiliar distance in his eyes that screams guilt and discomfort. You don’t want to mention it, scared of what might be underneath the mask he’s wearing tonight.

“If you’re not gonna do anything, can you at least hold the tree so I can put the lights on it?” you ask. “You can just go, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he insists, moving around the couch. “I just. I never did this as a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing the tree as you crouch for the lights, “so this feels a little childish.”

You shrug, “nothing childish about Christmas.”

“Everything about Christmas is childish when you have never really celebrated it,” Jeongguk theorises. Now that he’s holding the tree, it’s a lot easier to decorate.

“We can celebrate it if you’d like,” you suggest. He says nothing, “not like all the gifts and stuff, but just in general.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves so you can weave the lights around the branches. “Alright, sounds like it’ll kill my time this Christmas?”

You scoff, laughing lightly. “Well, isn’t that what I’m here for? To kill your time?”

Jeongguk takes a step back once the lights are wrapped around, and throws an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body. “Something like that.”

(13) Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Jeongguk had asked you to meet him at his place when he got off from work, and thankfully the guard on the gate had let you up early with the promise of cookies the next time you came to visit. You let yourself up to his suite and waited on the couch, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table and nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, lit up blue with the city outside.

About half an hour later, Jeongguk comes through the front door and drops his shit by the shoe rack. His keys rattle and drop on the counter and a few moments later, he’s moving across the room to the couch where he drops, knees first, setting his head in your lap as he falls.

“Hey,” you say unenthusiastically, stifling a yawn as he groans and stuffs his face closer into your body. He doesn’t say anything, just lies there, and you gently lock your fingers into his hair that seems messy and almost curly and begin to play.

“Tired?” you ask, and this time he moans in reply, a yes, and nothing else is said.

(14) Singing and dancing to their favourite song.

“Remind me again- it’s definitely okay that I’m here as your guest?”

Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back never disappears as he tours you around the room, gently smiling at people around him with a slender glass of wine in the other free hand. It is on this Saturday evening that Jeongguk finds himself in attendance of the Somber-Rain Ball. Unlike any other time where Jeongguk came solo, or with his colleagues from work, tonight he is joined by you, tailored in a beautiful black dress that sweeps the floor behind you, still somehow modest enough to keep you out of the glazed eyes of the other attendees.

“Yes, it is absolutely fine,” he sighs, steering you out of the self-collected gallery that surely belongs in this large and maze-like mansion. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if it wasn’t allowed, Y/N.”

“I know, but lately you’ve been doing all sorts of things that you probably shouldn’t,” you remind him, curling into his armpit as you cross the dancefloor towards the bar, that slopes to a side and is scarcely populated. A man who stands there bows his head to Jeongguk but ignores him straight afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, ���Isn’t that my thing?”

“I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” you shrug. Jeongguk smiles and kisses the crown of your head.

“Getting into trouble is my job, dear, not yours.” He faces the bartender and slides the drink, “A round of bourbon after the dance, please.”

“What kind, sir?”

Jeongguk hums, then clicks his tongue, “Try the Brothers’ Bond, I heard you just had it imported.”

The bartender nods, “Certainly, sir.”

Jeongguk nods and turns his attention back towards you, right as the young bartender hurries to find clean glasses for the happy couple. Jeongguk turns to your eyes and smiles at the raised eyebrows he sees, and pulls you further towards him as the orchestra finishes their latest piece.

“Isn’t that the bourbon that the Salvatore brothers made?” Jeongguk asks, feigning an innocence and a forgetfulness for the time you brought it up to his face a few weeks ago. You say nothing besides shaking your head, turning towards the crowd as it slightly thins, just as the orchestra calls it for a few seconds, and a song on the speakers takes its place.

It’s just the first few opening chords but Jeongguk clearly is familiar. He sighs loudly, audibly with an “ah” and then tucks himself closer to you.

“Love this song,” he states. “Miss L/N, care to dance with me?”

You look towards the floor, and then back at him: “Yeah, sure. Is this Doris Day?”

Jeongguk seems pleased as he leads you. He takes a center position, caring little about the potential attention he may attract by taking your waist. It doesn’t stop him from doing so, a smile in your hair as he begins the dance.

“Glad you know it,” Jeongguk replies. “I spent a lot of time with my Aunt when I was younger. She loved this song.”

You hum quietly, “She has good taste. I think this song is in that one Tonya Harding movie.”

“Probably,” he scoffs, kissing your hair again and curling an arm tighter around your middle. He is certainly attracting unwanted eyes. In a metaphorical perspective, this is your first dance. Might be your only dance, but Jeongguk’s not trying to wish away the moment, not just yet.

(15) Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Bad dream. Not you. Tonight, Jeongguk is a victim. 

He shoots himself awake before you have a time to sit up on your elbows, and he pants loudly, searching around the mattress for a weapon but instead, he finds your hands. Jeongguk jumps.

“It’s just me,” you tell him breathlessly, staring at his wide and wild eyes. He gasps, like he forgot you were even there, but calms when he scurries to take your hand in his own.

Jeongguk hates to feel like he needs help, but tonight, he seeks you first. He slides his hands around yours and finds his grip, remembering where and who and presses a kiss to your hand as you lift it to his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “bad dream. I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quietly, now sitting upright. “You never have to say sorry, okay? It’s okay.”

“Mhm,” he agrees half-heartedly. “I’m gonna….get a drink, or something.”

He rises from the bed and quite literally stumbles to the door, coughing the dryness from his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen. From the bed you sit and watch him leave, knowing from routine that when he comes back, he’ll lie awake, stoney, and won’t rest until the morning. He won’t sleep for the remainder of the night, and he’ll sleep in the office.

Jeongguk never talks of his nightmares. He never tells you about the recurring dreams of his past, his past lovers or friends or family. You know that the dreams must be so bad that he pretends to sleep to keep you from worrying. 

He never tells you that he gets them most when you sleep over, because the more aware he is of you beside him, the more he dreams of losing you.

(16) Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

There was no contract for your arrangement with Jeongguk. You were part of a very complicated sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, and there were never really any rules to it. You could fall in love with him all you wanted, but all Jeongguk had made clear from the first date was that he didn’t fall easily, and wasn’t seeing you to fall in love. If you fell for him, he didn’t really care. He’d never fall back. (Right?)

Despite there being no rules, you still always felt like taking photos with Jeongguk often felt like a breach of contract, like breaking the rules. Jeongguk had already shown you off to the world of Mafia and crime at the Somber-Rain Ball, but yet you were afraid to take a photo for your own gallery.

There was one, however, that Jeongguk had taken himself and sent to you when he was on a trip in Athens. It was a slightly dark and blurry photograph, from early when you two had met and Jeongguk felt like he had to get you to stay sometimes by playing the role of a lover. In the photo, his fingers are ghosting at your sides, his face is scrunched and in a smile and you’re rolling around on the covers. It’s a live photo, so it moves for a few seconds.

Jeongguk had made you laugh almost to the point of tears, and you can probably still remember the feeling of knots in your stomach, your voice threatening to pee on his bed if he didn’t pack it in. He stopped, reluctantly. He didn’t want to see you pee. He didn’t want you to cry, either.

Back then, he had been generous to avoid tears. (What changed?)

(17) Folding their clean laundry and putting it away.

It’s been a long day. That was obvious by the way Jeongguk called you at two, and didn’t even want to do anything once you got here. Just got home. Are you free, maybe? Like an idiot, you came.

His place was a sight for sore eyes; by the front door, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes, and a pile of cluster and mess led a trail to his bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the way he lay with his face down on the covers, feet hanging off the bed stiffly, the curtains drawn, city blaring, TV on a quite volume relaying the emergency call made to the police this morning about the death of Cho Minsu, one of Seoul’s most controversial politicians.

For a few minutes, you remain in the doorway and he remains unmoved.

“...and, although the call made to the police department this morning was made anonymously, the leader of the police department, Choi Seungkwan, seems to believe that the call was made by at least one of the rumoured underground organisations within this city. Just last week, the Twin Tiger Mafia were making headlines after a fire was caused in the center of Seoul, but there have been no confirmations from the police at this time, nor has a statement been issued by the President. One witness said it was the work of one man, which leads the authorities to believe that this is the involvement of a third party.”

Jeongguk appears glum by the news but doesn’t switch it off. As he wallows in his own self despair, you turn back towards the main section of his home and take in the mess. There’s a smashed frame on the floor, and the kitchen is disgustingly overcrowded with dishes, and ashtrays that are like mountains. The living room is cold and empty and clothes hang over the back of his couch. Here, you find not only his clothes from the night before but also the suit from the ball, as well as underwear you know isn’t yours.

Quietly, and without a fuss, you reach for the unknown underwear and with your hand tucked underneath one of his clothes, you scoop them up and toss them into the washer in the kitchen. The ashtray is cleaned, the dishes are put in the dishwasher, and the curtains are drawn. Jeongguk must be asleep by the time you come into his bedroom, carrying the clothes you folded for him to set away in his cupboards.

This will be the second time you have cried in his bedroom while he was sleeping, and as he sleeps, peaceful and perhaps even remorseful, you return back to the front door and slip into your shoes.

(18) Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You dream of him.

It’s the night of the ball. As you’re in the arms of Taehyung, stuck in a dance that will make you look less like a trophy wife for Jeongguk, the man himself is stuck in a conversation near the bar. Probably halfway through the waltz, you manage to lock his gaze. It’s like a movie, where the characters meet in slow motion, and everything seems to be slower and more passionate. All he does is smile, so gently and softly that it doesn’t even look like him.

It’s gone and he’s back to a straight face in conversation before you know it, but it’s enough for you to dream about it. Maybe this time, you’ll add a little bit to it, and create a new story to replace the original. One where the circumstances might be different, or the song, or the man you’re with.

(19) Bringing them a plate of their favourite sliced fruit.

“...what the fuck is a ‘BARB’, again? Surely not the Barbs, right? Right?”

Slowly but surely, you may be going insane behind this computer screen. You woke up in a cold sweat to the assumption your paper was due today, only by happy surprise to figure out it’s due next week, on a totally different day. It was eight, the sun was shining, and all Jeongguk can hear as he wakes up is keys tapping away relentlessly.

He stretches his arms and moves from the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and as if he owns the place (although if he’s being technical, he does) he heads to the shower and gets himself cleaned for the day he has planned ahead. Jeongguk showers, brushes his teeth and jumps into the clothes he came here in. By the time he’s out, he has time to poke his head into your makeshift study, which used to be a laundry room before the bastard thing broke and you had it moved to the bathroom instead. You’re still working, one leg up folded and a string of swear words leaving your mouth as you stare at the blinking word document.

Jeongguk frowns, nonetheless unsurprised by your antics. Ever since you went back to school, he’s been seeing less of you. Truthfully, it’s fine; Jeongguk is more than used to being alone and he doesn’t like to spend too much time with you. Not because he doesn’t like to, but quite actually for the opposite reason. Jeongguk likes you too much that he’s afraid he’ll give more than he wants to get back. Why fall in love when he can’t afford to?

Jeongguk moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Sucking his teeth, he closes the fridge and grabs two apples from the bowl near the kettle. He twists the little device he found from your drawer and removes the stalk for both, cutting shapes out of the fruit into a bowl. He tosses the utensils into the washing up bowl for you to tackle later when you inevitably procrastinate, and before he leaves to go to work, Jeongguk heads back towards where you sit and brings the bowl just in between your hands, in front of the keyboard.

You look up with alarm as he does this, frightened because he came in so silently. He smiles quickly, innocent, and leans forward to kiss you. He tastes like toothpaste.

“Morning, gotta go, though,” he says in a hurry.

Before he moves back, you lean up and steal a second kiss, “so early?”

“Mm, I have to go to work,” Jeongguk replies.

You glance at the fruit. “Did you cut this?”

“Yep. I know it’s so hard to chop fruit, but I did it all by myself,” he jokes. He kisses you a third time, “Really gotta go. Don’t call me ‘til you finish this fucking paper.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” you grumble, turning to the screen with a frown. Jeongguk smiles to himself and ruffles your hair, just before he steps out of the office and leaves you in the silence, collecting his things and leaving before Taehyung threatens to put a bounty on his head for being late to work again.

(20) Washing their back/hair in the shower.

“Fuck, shower sex sucks ass.”

You turn around, almost offended. “What?”

Jeongguk laughs loudly in the comforts of his own bathroom, leaning for a shampoo off the shelf. “I’m not saying you’re bad, I’m just saying it sucks. It’s so...slippery and hard.”

“I thought you liked it,” you reply.

He shrugs.

“Then why the fuck do you insist on it,” you sigh, spinning and leaning for the bottle. He moves it away, “Don’t be stingy.”

“I’m gonna wash your hair for you,” Jeongguk explains, squirting a generous amount into his hands. “Turn back around, love when your ass is against my dick like that.”

You roll your eyes and do as he says. He’s a kidder after he fucks you. Probably a pride thing because he knows he’s done a good job. Jeongguk massages the shampoo into your hair and inhales the scent, because it’s a new seasalt fragrance he saw on Youtube when he was looking at interviews for this one super secret guy he’s after, and apparently Adblock for Safari is shitty and never blocks ads on videos.

“Smells good,” you compliment. “Buy this for your other bitches, or just for me?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Nah, they got the banana one.”

“I thought you hated that fragrance.”

“That’s why they have it and not you,” he says simply. You don’t know whether or not the reply satisfies you. For one, it tells you that you’re his favourite, but it also tells you that he is indeed fucking other girls, which is something you were never totally thrilled to accept or believe. It conflicts you, to the point where you’re silent as he washes your hair.

“What?” Jeongguk asks finally, pulling at your head and half forcing your face to him. “You mad?”

“No,” you reply. “You done with my hair?”

He lets go, “Yeah. Just rinse it out.”

You do that, staring at the little drops of water on the shower door. Jeongguk sighs and switches positions with you, staring at your shoulders as you wash the shampoo out.

“Are you really mad?” he asks.

You sigh, “I’m not mad, Jeongguk.” You peer at him, “promise.”

“Bullshit,” he exclaims, like he’s tired. “I thought you knew I saw other people.”

“I did,” you lie. “It’s fine, really. I’m not, like, judging you for it.”

“Why’s it feel like you kind of are?” Jeongguk asks in response.

You shrug, “You tell me.”

The bathroom’s cold as the shower switches off and Jeongguk leaves first, stepping into the living room with the towel around his waist as you get dressed into a gown in the bathroom.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you exit, turning off the light and looking for your clothes around the room. He tugs, sick and frowning, and so he slowly moves for you across the bedroom. As you’re looking down at your clothes curled up on the chair by his drawers, Jeongguk snakes his arms around your waist from behind and slowly brings you up against him.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent yourself from saying something, and he kisses behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him.

“You know you’re a bad liar,” he mutters. “That’s why you’ll be a good journalist, you’re too good at telling the truth.” You resign, knowing he’s said this speech before. “You can be honest with me.”

You turn in his arms. “Look. I’m not mad. Mad’s not the word. Disappointed, maybe, but life is full of disappointments, you know? I mean. I don’t know...I moved across the city just to live next to you because you asked me to, I thought it could be easier for us to both get what we want out of each other and so it just...kind of sucks that you need other people? It’s like, am I not filling the gaps enough? I thought sugar daddies only had one baby at a time, I thought they were lonely old men.”

“Do I look old to you?” Jeongguk asks, missing the point. Only he knows the point. “And, look. You bring out the best in me. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Guk,” you lament, “but I just see you, and this guy who wants more than he has. It’s sucky, for me, I guess.”

He thinks on that for a second. “You’re not just a baby for me, you know that, I know that, everybody knows that. I don’t even pay you when we see each other anymore, you can’t tell me that’s the same thing we expected to have a few months ago, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But, what?” he questions. “I’m here right now because I chose to be, and because being with you just feels...natural, I guess. I don’t like just calling you to fuck for five minutes because I got stressed out at work. You’re more than that to me.”

It struggles to settle in your stomach, and he stares down at you almost pleadingly. “You know that. You do, come on.”

“Baby...Look. If I was natural, and if I was more to you than a baby, then you wouldn’t need to be calling other people when you’re stressed. If you really needed me, you’d need me. It’s that simple.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting go, “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Guk, it is that simple,” you murmur. You smile at him, because you don’t want him to feel too bad about it. He simply stares at you, saying nothing as you look back at your clothes. “I have class tomorrow, so I’m gonna head home.”

He says nothing.

“Good night, Guk,” you call from the front door a few minutes later. He doesn’t reply, and the silence does it for him.

[scribbleb-red]

Neil is a lying liar who lies AU

A Morning AU - with a fab prompt from @djhedy

There’s a new boy in Andrew’s class and there’s something not quite right about him. He’s mouthy and sharp, the kinda kid that should end up in detention three times a week but never does.

They are seven years old, though the new kid looks five, with eyes like a wide open sky. 

He is very pretty - that’s why Andrew notices him first - he looks like a fairy prince. 

And it’s because Andrew is watching that he notices though: the kid is a big bad lying liar who lies. 

The day he joined, the kid said his name was ‘Stefan’ to Mrs Stewart and ‘Chris’ to Mr Brasenose. The next day he was just ‘Neil’ and was given a fond, exasperated warning to keep his make believe in the playground. 

 But the kid didn’t stop lying.

Some lies were big and others were small. 

On a Tuesday, Neil announced that he’d had a huge feast for breakfast - listing all the foods and making everyone’s mouth water with the descriptions. (But Andrew saw how he winced nd held his stomach like it was empty.)

On a Thursday, Neil said he grew up in England and proceeded to spend the next week speaking in a post English accent. (But he later admits at lunch it was just a couple months).

On a Friday, Neil whispers that his house is haunted and he’s scared to go home for the weekend. (There’s a little too much truth shining through those eyes as he talks about the ghost in his house. Andrew doesn’t doubt that he’s scared of something).

The following Monday, Neil explains his bruises by saying he spent the week learning to skateboard. 

“My cousin visited and let me use her skate board. It was pretty rad.” 

(Andrew eyes the split lip, it could be true. But then he sees the hand shape around Neil’s thin wrist and knows the truth: it’s a lie.)

Through it all, Andrew is very quiet and very alone. He knows how this goes - he’s seven years old with more cracks in his heart than a fifty year romantic - but he kinda enjoys Neil’s lies and how he gets away with them.

He particularly likes the outrageous ones: 

My father parachuted into Paris because he’s a spy. He died landing on the Eiffel Tower. I once wrestled a monster. I won but it stole all my mom’s apples. I’m telling the truth. My tongue goes green when I lie. I met Kevin Day.

Andrew won’t pretend he’s not intrigued. He thinks Neil is interesting and his lies are ones he can often hold in the dark, imagining over and over when he’s hurt and wishing to be anyone, anywhere but here.

Plus Neil is funny - he always snarks at the teachers and gets away with the most ridiculous things. Other kids always want to play with him because his games are brilliant - epic journeys, castles and wizards, magical tigers, patchwork villains made from the skin of children. 

Some of Neil’s tall tales are part fairytales, part nightmares.  And Andrew isn’t sure which part Neil actually belongs to. There are times where he’s the brightest, prettiest boy on the playground. And times where his eyes are haunted, mouth wicked cruel. And then there are times like today, where Neil is quiet and blank - a little too familiar to what Andrew sees in the mirror these days, looking like someone has scooped out his insides and left nothing but darkness behind in its wake. 

Andrew almost talks to him then. 

Almost.

But he doesn't. Not for another few weeks. Not until Neil's facing down Greg Doyle - the fight has the vibe of a hissing kitten against a rottweiler. 

 There's no way Neil can win. Greg is a third grader and big beside. 

But Neil doesn't look scared. He looks ferocious.

Not that appearances are going to help. Neil could have the sharpest claws of them all and he'd still weigh nothing against Greg. Neil dodges and ducks the first few blows. He snipes and snarks, that liar's mouth rattling off stories of how he took down a SWAT team once.

But dumb luck can’t do everything and finally Greg gets a thump in, straight across Neil’s jaw - hard enough to make him stagger. 

"So much for a SWAT team, fucking liar." 

There are gasps at the bad word from the growing first and second grade audience. 

"Tongue turns green," Neil says. He spits out blood.

Andrew's had enough when he sees the blood. 

Neil might be an idiot but Andrew knows that there's no way to win this one on alone He steps forward and puts himself between Neil and Greg. 

"Oooo who's this, your boyfriend?" 

Andrew would roll his eyes, but can't be bothered. He is the tallest kid in their year at nearly 4'5. He can look the nine year old Greg in the eye without trouble and he can see the bigger kid calculating his chances of taking Andrew on instead of the skinny little creature that was Neil "motor mouth" Josten.

"Back off," he says. He doesn't inflect. He watched a cartoon where a character spoke completely flat and it was really scary so he figures this might make Greg cower too. "Leave him alone."

Greg nearly steps into Andrew's space but someone has started a whisper: 

Andrew Doe is the kid who killed his parents. Andrew Doe is the kid that burned a house down. Andrew Doe is the kid who took on Bertie Becker from fifth grade and flushed his head down the loo.

It's the last one that gives away the source of these rumours - Neil has started a chain of Chinese whispers. And Greg hears them swirling from mouth to mouth, ear to ear, each more terrifying than the last. It makes Andrew want to grin, so he does. Greg actually whimpers.

The crowd laughs when Greg runs away - he can’t save face when he’s fleeing from a first grader. 

Andrew feels triumphant. 

 Especially when Neil steps up beside him, shy smile and summer sky eyes. “Thanks Andrew.” 

 Neil Josten knows his name, Andrew thinks. Wow wow wow.

Neil’s mouth is swollen but he’s still the prettiest boy in the playground so Andrew doesn’t say anything. 

“Want to play a game?” Neil says. 

 Andrew shrugs. 

 “Yes or no?” Neil says again. “I won’t force you but I’d like to play with you to if you’d like to play with me.”

Andrew thinks about it before saying yes. 

It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

*

They start with games - make believe quests and imaginary journeys. They visit magical worlds in their heads and fall about laughing when one of them (mostly Andrew) doesn’t break character even for class.

They become inseparable - two boys with home lives full of ghosts but dreams that can take them anywhere. The lying liar is the better story teller but the stoic hero a better actor. And sometimes in games they hide their truths - violent families and horrifying pasts.

Neil shows Andrew his scars, “I sometimes say they’re from a shark or ninjas and stuff but...” 

“That’s from an iron.” 

“Yeah.”

In turn, Andrew tells Neil about his foster family. 

“We could poison him,” Neil says. “I heard we can make poison from apple cores. Applesenic or something.”

If only it were that simple.

It happens just before the end of the year - summer is nearly there and Andrew can only imagine how fun it'll be having a friend to adventure with for the first time. And then he finds out that his foster family is getting rid of him. He'll be packed off at the end of term.

"I think mom and I will move too," Neil admits. "We never hang around anywhere long." 

"Because of your dad?" 

"Yeah..." Neil plays with the hem of his t-shirt. "He's in prison but mom is still terrified. She moves us a lot." 

"Maybe you can move to the same place as me."

They pretend that the world isn't going to split them apart. 

They pretend that they're going to have the summer together. 

And the year after. 

That they'll start middle school together. 

And be best friends all the way to the end of high school.

And go to the same college.

"We could play exy together all the way through," Neil says. It's his new obsession. 

"I'm not going to play stickball. I prefer playing games with you." 

"We can play games on the court. You can be the fierce dragon and I'll be the knight that looks after you."

"You'd steal all my dragon gold." 

"Would not." 

Andrew raises one eyebrow. 

"Okay, yes I would. I'd be the knight trying to take your gold. But I'd be sneaky about it." Neil's laughter is high and bright. "Does that mean you'll play with me?" 

"Yeah okay," Andrew says.

But it doesn't work out that way. 

Neil vanishes like sun behind a mountain the day after term ends. 

Andrew's bags are packed. He's dumped in a new home near the beach. He hates the beach. He misses Neil the way his lungs miss oxygen when he's stuck in the swell of a wave.

He does play exy though. 

He does it because he figures one day he'll find Neil on a court too. 

He'll either face him down or by some miracle they'll be on the same team. 

He'll find Neil again. He will.  

He tells himself this every day. 

Even when it feels like a lie.

*

Something like an epilogue

Years pass before Andrew hears anything about the little boy who - for two semesters when he was seven - was his best friend. So many years that if it weren't for one polaroid from a cheeky arcade photo-booth, he might have let the idea of Neil go.

But he keeps the photo with him - through home after home, through Cass and Drake and juvie and Aaron and Nicky. He hides it in books, folds it into pockets. Makes sure to hold onto Neil and the memories of those few happy months.

He plays exy. Keeps track of other teams and their players. The sport does nothing for him - but sometimes he closes his eyes and imagines Neil with his flashing blue eyes mischievous smile and that long ago conversation. He remembers why he's doing this.

At 13, he asks Pig Higgins to do a search on Neil's name but the policeman refuses. 

At 14, he goes through the entire directory for California and when that's exhausted, he starts searching every state from West to East. 

He calls 362 Jostens across the USA. None are Neil.

When he turns 16, he uses a fake and has two small dragons outlined on the top of his left shoulder. 

When he's 17 he meets Riko and Kevin Day. He remembers Neil once saying he'd met Kevin and wonders if that was true or just one of Neil's many many lies. He turns the Ravens down.

He signs two weeks later with the Palmetto State Foxes - taking his brother and cousin with him. 

He watches as the lists of drafted players on other teams go up. There's no Chris or Stefan or Abram - not with the matching face Andrew wants. There's no sign of a Neil Josten.

Andrew smooths out the photo at night, slipping it between the pages of Whitman's Leaves of Grass every morning. 

Maybe it's time to put the memory of Neil to rest, but he can't. 

Neil is one of those beautiful ghosts that he can't help but hold onto. The one unspoilt thing in his memory.

Unspoilt, that is, until a Monday when Kevin Day announces he's recruiting a nobody from a nothing town in the middle of nowhere Arizona and the nobody's name is Neil.

"Neil what?" 

"Josten. Want to see his tape?" 

"Nope," Andrew says. But his heart is a thunderdrum, hope cutting through the medicated hyper mania easy as a knife through butter. "Actually yes, gimme the tapes little birdie." 

Kevin grimaces at his nickname but says nothing until they’re watching the tape. And then he can’t shut up about the player’s potential, his speed and natural flare on the Court. 

It's not Andrew’s Neil. 

But it is too. 

The striker on the court is a brunette with dark eyes but he runs like Neil. He's ferocious and plays like it's the last thing keeping him afloat. He has that little flick of his racquet before he goes to score, a telltale that would never get passed Andrew but no one else seemed to have noticed. 

Andrew says as much to Kevin. 

"Exactly," Kevin says. "That's why we have to have him."

So they go to Millport. 

And Andrew knows Neil well enough to anticipate that he'll run. 

Knows him well enough to trip him with a racquet and catch him as he falls. 

Neil hasn't grown much either - he's still small and sharp and far too pretty to be real.

"Stupid little liar, you should watch where you put your feet." Andrew wishes he were sober. Wishes he didn't have to greet Neil with this grin splitting his face. 

Wishes wishes wishes. 

But his one wish has already come true, Neil is here with him. Warm and lithe and alive.

"Drew?" Neil says, but the word is choked and breathless. Neil’s voice does something to Andrew’s insides and Andrew feels the muscles beneath his hands warring between flight and relief. 

"Neil," he replies. 

"Oh my god, Drew." 

And then Neil's arms are around Andrew's shoulders, and his face is turning into his neck and Andrew realises they're hugging and he shouldn't want to hug back but he does. He does because it's Neil. His friend. His pipe dream. The little boy with the pathological need to lie and an imagination that could create whole worlds from a handful of dust. 

He hugs Neil tight. 

Never wants to let go.

Kevin of course ruins the moment. 

But Neil isn't going to say no to the Foxes. Not now. 

And even though Andrew can recognise the lies slipping passed Neil's lips, he doesn't tell Wymack. Doesn't call out his idiot's new ouchies. Doesn't answer any questions when Kevin demands answers.

"Sign," he speaks only to Neil. He means, Stay with me. "We can play a game. Yes or no?" 

"Yes," Neil says and his smile is a little wild, a lot wonderful. "Let's play a game."

The End.

[lesbianlovelanguage]

hi!! u asked for prompts!! how about experiment!steve nd the party and billy finding out? u chose his abilities:-)

Hey nonny!! I had SO MUCH fun writing this, thank you so much for the awesome prompt. I hope you like it :)

Also putting in a cut bc this is like over 3k 

--

Nancy and Jonathan-

Steve was so, so tired as he rolled up to the Byer’s house. The entire three hours he had spent erasing that stupid ass graffiti, he had thought about how to make it up to Nancy. He realized that the first move had to be apologizing to Byers. Besides that, what he had said really was fucked up, no matter how much Nancy had hurt him. It definitely wasn’t his place to say anyone else’s family is screwed up either, not with his history.

With a huff, he clambered out of his car and hustled up to the front door. Something didn’t feel right, but he shrugged that off to the fact that it was so dark outside. He reached the front door, and began pounding.

“Jonathan! Are you there man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk.” He heard some shuffling as he continued to pound on the door, but pulled his fist away as he heard the chain lock being pulled. 

“Nancy?” This was going to be so much harder if she was here, shit. 

“Steve. You need to leave.” 

“No, no I’m not trying to start shit, okay?”

“That’s not important Steve. I don’t care.” Fuck, he really fucked up didn’t he? 

Nancy began to close the door, and with it he saw any chance of apologizing and making up for his actions disappearing.

“No, no, no, Nanc, please, I-” He pounded on the door both in frustration and to try and get her to stop closing it. “I messed up, okay? I messed up, and- and I’m sorry. I just want to make things right.” He took a deep breath and looked up into Nancy’s eyes. All he saw there was sadness and anxiety though, and he quickly looked away.

And noticed the thick Ace bandage wrapped around her hand. 

“Wh-what happened to your hand?” He reached to grab it, but she pulled away.

“Nothing! It was an accident,” she tried to explain, but Steve had been with her long enough to recognize when she was lying. A terrible thought dawned on him

“Did he do this to you? Nance, let me,” he began pushing on the door, “let me in, Nancy.” She tried to fight, but with one final push he barged into the darkened living room of the Byers’ house. The only thing he noticed was a fucking baseball bat with nails, and then Jonathan was in his face, yelling about how he needed to leave. They were in the middle of scuffling when he heard a click, and Nancy pointed a gun in his face.

“Steve, get out,” she said, tone deadly serious.

All of his instincts were screaming to run, but he couldn’t just leave Nancy behind, he loved her. 

“Thi- this is a joke right? Nance, put the gun down.” 

“You have five seconds to leave. I’m doing this for you,” and then his instincts really began going haywire. She was counting down slowly, Jonathan was screaming at her, and the fucking christmas lights began flickering. It was as if they were some sort of signal, as Nancy stopped counting and Jonathan dove for the baseball bat. They were looking for something, but all there was were the damn lights. 

“Hello, will someone please explain what the fu-” Before he could finish demanding answers, a thing straight out of nightmares began bursting through the ceiling, and Nancy and Jonathan were booking it down the hallway. There was nothing he could do but run after them.

They all piled into a bedroom at the end of the hall, but there still were no answers as Nancy and Jonathan stared at the door waiting for that thing to burst through. 

But then the flashing lights stopped and the house went silent. 

For the first time since he burst through the front door, Steve said nothing as they all crept out of the bedroom into the dark hallway. They made it all the way back out to the living room, but the house was empty except for them. 

“This is crazy,” Steve whispered at first, but continued to repeat with more franticness in his voice as he lunged for the phone he saw hanging on the wall. He had just managed to dial 9-1-1 when Nancy ripped it out of his hands and threw it away from them. 

“It’s going to come back,” she shouted. “So you need to leave. Right. Now.” Steve took a deep breath and looked between the two of them. 

“No,” he said, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice. All he got for his defiance though was the two of them physically pushing him out the front door. Not wanting to be caught outside in the dark with that monster, he booked it to his car, but just as he was climbing into the front seat, he saw the lights in the house begin to flicker again. 

It was coming back. 

He charged back towards the house without a second thought, but as he ran, he felt something stirring within him. A feeling he had long ago pushed away, ever since the Harringtons decided to buy him from the lab. 

Between one step and the next, he found himself shifting. By the time he burst through the front door, he was no longer human, but rather a lion acting on instinct to protect his pride. 

It seemed that he had arrived just in time too, as Jonathan lay prone on the ground and Nancy was backed into a corner. Acting on the howling demands of his hindbrain, Steve lept at the monster, bearing his teeth in a fearsome growl, and knocked it away from her. He tumbled with it to the ground and began blindly swiping at it with his claws. He forced it down the hallway, where he vaguely remembered a bear trap lay waiting, and with one final leap, pushed it into the jaws of the trap. He turned back and growled at the two people standing behind him, looking confused and scared, but a fearsome scream from the monster kicked Jonathan back into motion as he rushed forward and chucked the lighter at the gas puddle by the monster’s feet. All three of them watched in awe for a moment as the thing burst into flames, and then Jonathan was running to grab a fire extinguisher and the ball of flames was doused with a cloud of chemicals that irritated Steve’s sensitive nose. The house was filled with coughing and panting as they tried to look through the fog and see if the monster had been defeated. 

All that remained was a pile of bubbling ooze coating the closed bear trap. 

All three of them breathed a sigh of relief at the sight. It was over. They had won. 

With the danger gone, Steve felt the same sensation roll over him and then he was once again standing on two feet. He winced as he heard two shocked inhales behind him and turned to face the two other teens. 

“Tada,” he said weakly.

“What. The actual. Fuck.” Jonathan panted, but Nancy simply stared at him with her mouth agape. 

Steve shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet, still trying to readjust to the sudden shift after five years of trying to push that part of him away, and then realized he was naked. 

“Could I- uh, could I borrow some sweats?” He asked Jonathan.

The Party-

“Nance, I’m still not sure about this. They all hate me.”

“Steve,” Nancy sighed. They had been having this argument all morning. “They don’t hate you. They don’t know you, there’s a difference. But you helped us defeat that demogorgon and that makes you part of the group.” 

“But Nanc-”

“No but Nance. Now c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” They both piled into Steve’s BMW and headed to the other side of town, where the Byers lived, and where the party decided to hold a little Christmas party.

They got out, and Steve offered to grab the presents out of the backseat while Nancy went ahead to say hi to everyone. She agreed reluctantly, shooting him a look. 

He opened the backseat and took a shaky breath. He couldn’t believe he let Nancy talk him into this, but once she found out that he would spend the holidays alone because his parents decided that a beach resort in Aruba was a better choice, she wouldn’t budge. Everyone would be there, she had promised as if that would make him feel less nervous. Even the girl who Mike had apparently been hiding in his basement. 

After taking a few breaths and grabbing the basket they had decided to put everyone’s gifts in, he headed into the Byers, still feeling his stomach roil with nerves.

The first person he was bombarded with was a short kid with wild curly hair and a wide smile.

“I heard you helped Jonathan and Nancy take out a demogorgon! They said you were wicked killed with a baseball bat.” Steve looked up and made eye contact with Nancy. That’s the story they went with? 

“Yep,” he chuckled. “That- uh, that’s me.” The curly haired boy’s eyes widened.

“That’s awesome!” He crowed, turning back around to run and tell the other children gathered around the coffee table. He recognized Nancy’s little brother, Mike, and he had a vague recollection of the other two younger boys, but then he saw the only girl in the middle of the boys. That must be the girl Mike had been hiding. She looked up at the curly-haired boy as he went charging over, but Steve couldn’t get a good look at her as he was pulled away by Nancy into the kitchen. He dutifully followed her in to meet Joyce Byers and Chief Hopper. Joyce then pulled him into helping her finish up the dinner as she rambled about helping to save their house and how thankful she was that he had shown up to help Nancy and Jonathan. 

Eventually, dinner was finished, and he was tasked with gathering the children as Joyce and Chief Hopper set the small kitchen table. He walked back over to the living room, and was finally able to see the girl’s face. 

Not only was it a face he recognized, but one that haunted his nightmares almost every night. Granted he hadn’t seen her in the five years he had been free, but he would always remember the wide, brown eyes that had stared up at him with so much innocence and youth, so exotic within the labs.

Eleven. The girl he had considered a younger sister, only to have abandoned when she needed him most. Of course, it hadn't been his choice, but the guilt of leaving her alone in that place had weighed on him for years. 

Memories flashed before his eyes, shared meals and playtime, big trusting eyes looking up at him as he soothed her after a particularly terrible nightmare, the screams as she was dragged down that damn sterile hallways towards whatever hellish trial they decided to put her through that day. All of these and so many more terrible memories flooded the forefront of his mind and he started to cry. Fell to his knees and spread his arms wide. Feeling El throw her thin too thin body at him only made him cry that much harder, but it also felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. His sister was safe. 

After a few minutes he finally calmed down enough to register the fact that El was running her small hand through his hair and murmuring happy little cries of “Six, you’re here. I found you.” 

It was another few moments before he realized he was whispering back, broken apologies and platitudes as he squeezed her as tight as he could, as if when he let go she would disappear. 

Finally, after what had felt like seconds and centuries all in one, he loosened his hold and pulled back. He first looked at El and took a second to wipe a stray tear from her cheek, before looking up around the room. 

Nancy and Jonathan, seeming to have put two and two together, stood looking heartbroken for the two, while everyone else gathered in the ruined living room of the Byers house looked confused and mildly concerned. 

Hopper, who had appeared when Steve had first begun crying, was the first person to step forward. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I- uh- I think I’m missing something here, but I think I also speak for all of us when I sa-”

“What the fuck is happening?” the curly-haired boy from before interjected. Hopper glared at the boy, but then turned back to stare at Steve. Before he could figure out what to say, El stood up from his loose embrace and turned towards the group.

“Six,” she said determinedly, “big brother.” Then, as if that solved everything, she turned back around and sat back in his lap. 

If anything though, her three word explanation brough even further scrutiny from the people surrounding them, so Steve cleared his throat.

“So, um, five years ago the Harringtons decided they wanted a kid, an heir to the business dynasty or some sh- thing, but Mrs. Harringrove didn’t want to go through pregnancy. Mr. Hargrove happened to hear whisperings of ‘special children’ and after some heavy lawyering, they ended up with yours truly. Then of course, they found out that ‘special’ meant ‘lab-rats’ and wanted nothing to do with me.” 

As he finished the quick and easy version of events that drastically changed his life, silence swallowed the living room and made Steve feel like he was suffocating. And then it was broken by a loud yell of “We have two superhero friends?” 

As if a spell had been broken, life flooded back into the house as the kids surrounded Steve until Joyce called out that it was dinner time. 

Dinner was a small, casual affair. All of the kids were too busy inhaling the food to ask more questions, and the adults seemed to be biting their tongues. After the food had been cleared away, Steve excused himself, and stumbled out the front door to sit on the patio and have a smoke. 

He was halfway through his cigarette when he heard the heavy wooden door swing open and thick boots trudge up behind him. Hopper was then sitting next to him.

“Not the best habit there.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, offering nothing else. Hopper sighed.

“Listen, kid,” he started before sighing again, and doing something Steve never would have expected in a million years. 

He pulled him into a hug. A short one for sure, but still a hug. 

“You’ll be okay.”

Maybe he would be, maybe he wouldn’t, but finally, Steve felt that maybe, just maybe, he had finally found a family.

Billy-

Steve was five seconds away from screaming. 

Not only was he stuck in a house with four middle schoolers who were just as anxious as him, but he also had to ignore the fact that El was in imminent danger. She was out there risking her life to save the world, and he was stuck on babysitter duty. Of course, it had made sense when they were all brainstorming a plan of attack, but the reality of what it would mean hadn’t set in until El and Hopper were already far away. 

He had been in the kitchen, trying to prepare a snack to hopefully relieve some of the anxiety when he heard Lucas.

“Mike, would you just stop already?” 

“You weren’t in there. That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.” Steve tried to ignore the way his heart raced at the reminder of where El was headed and stepped into the living room to diffuse the mounting tension.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it, right?” He tried to reason. 

“Okay, first of all this isn’t some stupid sports game,” as if he needed a reminder of the absolute shit situation they were all in, “and second of all, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.” 

Steve tried to rebound, but what do you say to that? How do you comfort a small gaggle of preteens? 

“Right, we’re on the bench, so there’s nothing we can do,” he tried, feeling it fall flat even as he said it. 

“Actually,” Dustin chimed in, “That’s not entirely true.” Then they all gathered again to plan a hair-brained scheme that would end with them all dying, and Steve couldn’t get a word in edgewise. 

“Hey! Hey! This is not happening,” he said, putting every ounce of authority he could muster in his voice. Once he finally had all of their attention, he continued. “This is so not happening. I promised to keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on.” Mike just rolled his eyes and continued planning, but Dustin turned to Steve.

“Steve, buddy, don’t you want to help El?” Steve winced, and at the sign of weakness, Dustin went for the jugular. “We could save her. You promised to protect her. So, protect her.” 

He opened his mouth, unable to put together an argument, when they all heard the loud roar of an engine revving outside. 

The new girl, Max, ran to the front window in a panic, muttering about how ‘he can’t find us here, he’ll kill us.’ Well, shit. 

Steve pushed his way to the front of the window and watched as a blue camaro pulled in next to his BMW. This night couldn’t get any worse. 

He pushed the kids out of the window and went to confront the biggest douche in Hawkins.

“Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?” Billy smirked as he blew out a big cloud of smoke. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” They squabled back and forth, Billy waving his cigarette around obnoxiously, and then he saw his sister in the window and all hell broke loose. 

He charged forward, pushing Steve out of the way and charging through the front door. Steve scrambled up after him, and followed hot on his heels. For some reason, Billy targeted Lucas, and Steve saw red. 

“You’re dead Sinclaire.” 

“No, you are,” Steve said from behind him and then swung. He felt his knuckles connect with the hard bone of Billy’s cheek. He came back up, laughing like a maniac.

“You got some fire in you after all! I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been telling me so much about,” Billy sneered, blood pouring out of his nose. 

But then they heard an ungodly squelching sound, followed by snarling. 

A demodog burst through the open front door and lunged for the huddle of kids by the door, and without a thought as to how Billy would react, Steve yelled at the kids to duck, and then shifted. He leapt over the group and landed on four golden paws. 

With a mighty roar, Steve charged the demodog and began to fight it, scratching and biting blindly as he tried to kill it. He felt its own claws dig into his side, leaving dark, deep gashes. They were a pretty even match, every attack met with an equally feral response, and Steve could feel himself wearing out. He needed this to end, soon. 

As if she had read his mind, suddenly Max was standing next to him and trying to swing the nail bat at the fucker. Steve managed to disengage long enough for her to raise the bat and bring it swiftly down on the monster’s head without himself getting smashed too. Black blood splattered everywhere, matting Steve’s fur and Max’s hair. 

It felt as if everyone held their breath as they waited for the demodog to rise again. Moments passed in complete silence until finally, Billy felt safe enough to call out. 

“So King Steve is also king of the jungle?”

----

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington @trashycatarcade @myboyfriendsteve @thesummerof84 @lightsupinthenorth (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

[thelastofgala]

I started The Last of Us, Pt. 2 last night, and here are my first impressions, musings on parallelism, Naturalism, Ellie’s characterization, Joel’s characterization, the “presence” of Riley, gameplay, story development, and more:

***SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT***

Starting with Joel. I always imagined The Last of Us 2 would begin at the end of Joel’s journey, though I will say that I did not expect to pick up so close to the end of the first game. I thought they would start us somewhere COMPLETELY out of context. Like I was prepared for much deeper flashback. In this way, I really felt like I was playing a sequel, which is not a bad thing. I just had no idea how they were going to frame this. The compelling thing about starting with Joel is that it immediately sets up parallels between Joel and Sarah, the character we start with in The Last of Us. There’s no way this was not a pointed decision. Just like it was with Sarah, Joel is our point of reference in a new, strange world. His point of view in this new world is all that we know. We don’t know what the new special world contains, and we don’t know grown-up Ellie at all. Plus, old fans will have missed him. It is a comfort to be Joel, and like a daughter protected by her father, a false and short-lived comfort. We are also now thinking of Joel as, like Sarah, someone who is in danger, whose agency is compromised, who, for whatever reason, is weakened this time around, and who may not survive the story. 

I will say, too, that I really loved that after the 4-years-later cut, Joel is held off-screen. He and Tommy are out on a patrol. They are out there, in danger, and that sort of restraint is really effective. We are ALWAYS looking for Joel, just like we were in the run-up to the release, because he is the only person we truly know in this strange, new world. ND knows and takes advantage of this.

There are many parallels between Joel and Riley. Both Joel and Riley sneak up on Ellie during their first interaction. They’re even wearing similar colors. Both Joel and Riley lied to Ellie in the previous story, and both betrayed her as an act of self-preservation. In Left Behind, Ellie is somewhat chilly toward Riley in the beginning, even as her younger, more optimistic self, just as Ellie is chilly toward Joel in the beginning of The Last of Us 2. Still, you can tell through Ellie’s dialogue with Dina that she and Joel are knitted together—he defended her against the bigoted bartender, and she appreciates this even if she doesn’t outright say it. They share taste in movies and have plans to watch a movie together soon. I haven’t interacted with Joel in the current timeline, but I do know that in Left Behind, Riley has to earn back Ellie’s trust and take measures to reenter her good graces, and that this is a large part of their relationship arc. I also know that, by the time they reconcile, it proves to be too late. The world will not let them have what they want, and nothing is simple. All of these parallels worry me a lot, as Left Behind, while still driven by a strong undercurrent of love (it is a love story, interwoven with Ellie’s desperate search for medical supplies in a bid to save Joel’s life), is a much bleaker, sadder story than The Last of Us, and it has a tragic ending.

Joel's conversation with Tommy feels important. I was very glad to hear Tommy say that he would have made the same choice, in terms of saving Ellie or letting her die for the possibility of a cure. It shows that Tommy is more like Joel than perhaps we knew. Plus, Maria will have taught him something about love and commitment, as the notion of saving the one you love above all else should make more sense to him now that he has foregone the youthful idealism of the Fireflies in order to focus on the practical wisdom of family. As a parent, I understand Joel’s decision to save Ellie at the end of The Last of Us and know I would have done the same. I also understand why Joel lied, even though I think it was the wrong choice. Hearing him confide all of this in Tommy was cathartic. It was also very characteristic of Joel to respond that Ellie “didn’t say nothing otherwise” when Tommy asks if she believed him. In all of his denial, Joel chooses to believe what is conveniently in front of him, even if he knows it’s untrue. Also, I couldn’t tell, but was that a Firefly logo on that guitar he’s shining up? Maybe I hallucinated that. But if it is, I do wonder where he got it.

Ellie’s character is much more deadpan and ruminative in young adulthood. She seems tired, and a little lacking in self-esteem and sort of immediately defeated by what happened during the experience with Joel. When Joel sang, we could see her return to that place, just a glimmer, and her response—that it “didn’t suck”—shows how she still shields her heart with sarcasm, something Dina points out to her later on (“Did I ruin your punchline?”). Joel has been broken down by the events of The Last of Us and now bears his soul to her with his music, unabashed and dedicated to her, and Ellie is now the stoic one, unshakable, sealed inside a heavy, protective armor that seems impossible to pierce. I look forward to getting to know Ellie as a young adult and, ultimately, crying a lot. She is artistic and honest and still a little soft underneath. You can tell by her early interactions with Dina especially that she can still blush, and she can still come undone.

I love the snowball fight lol. I am always so frustrated when these big environment games, like Red Dead 2, Dragon Age, etc., don’t have any kids running around. Why don’t these stories pay attention to kids? Kids exist. They are an important part of almost any open world or quasi open world environment. I love the presence of kids in The Last of Us 2, because the loss of childhood innocence is an important theme for Ellie as a character. It’s also clear we’re trying to set up the edenic innocence of Jackson. It is childhood, in a way, and just like childhood, it will come to inevitable corruption. The scene, too, reminded me of Ellie and Riley on their teen dream adventure, romping through the Halloween store at the mall, trying on masks and talking to the magic eight ball.

I’m really pleased by all the parallels with Left Behind and Ellie’s portion of the journey in The Last of Us. Winter was her season, and that’s where we’re starting now. The horseback riding, the blizzard, and all the blood in the snow bring flashbacks of Ellie hunting on the woods, Ellie alone in the frozen mall, David, and the Lakeside Resort, all of which layer the current moment with a lot of emotional tension for the player.

The opening is, I think, sprawling. I’m having fun but there’s this sense that I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of the story. Like Joel in the first game, Ellie is also big-timing me a little and I feel far away from her. I know this will change soon, and I’ll warm up to her, but for now, like Joel, we’re all being held at arm’s length. I actually like the POV shifts we’ve gotten so far and the multiple POVs is something I predicted a while ago, based on ND’s tendencies in the first game. Ppl are going to give The Last of Us 2 shit for being too cinematic but tbh it sometimes feels more like a playable novel than a traditional video game. We’re on a cable car headed straight into disaster and there’s nothing we can do. In this way the game is using the medium itself to perpetuate its Naturalistic themes. We play and we play, and we fight and we fight, but the environment entertains no interest in our struggle and the outcome will always be the same. There is no free will in The Last of Us.

On that note, the gameplay so far is, I think, pretty fun. I have played a lot of stealth games and am always looking for ways the genre is reinventing itself. Like Sekiro and Tomb Raider, The Last of Us 2 is increasing the verticality of the map with rope climbing and scaling up obstacles (though I do miss using Joel’s immense upper body strength to move those dumpsters around lol). In a stealth game I want creativity and problem solving to be central to the gameplay. I don’t want to be magically handed tools and weapons on a constant basis, to meet every individual need. I want to be forced into resourcefulness, and I don’t want to enter a shoot-out unless I absolutely have to. That said, I’m nearly to the tower checkpoint with Dina, and I’ve only fired my gun twice. The dodge/melee mechanic is neat, but more than anything, having real, actionable help from an AI enables stealth kills even in zones crawling with enemies. On that note, I am playing with a headset, and I’m glad I am, because I find the sounds of the goddam clickers to be all-encompassing this time around and a LOT bigger and scarier than they were in The Last of Us. Holy shit. They’re absolutely terrifying. I can only imagine the horror to come lol.

Now, finally, Abby: I don’t have much to offer on this yet. Abby is not who I thought she’d be. I’ll just say it. Still, the melee battle with her and the runners in the woods was AWESOME. For me, the most fun I’ve had yet, because it was completely different than anything from The Last of Us. Playing her, however, I will say, filled me with foreboding. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to help her. She seems beyond desperate and while deeply sympathetic, she is a new character and her loyalties are not mine...so far. I could be very wrong, and please don’t correct me if I am, but I get the sense she might be a Firefly, or somehow associated with Marlene, and she is looking for Joel, in vengeance. Her group was small and rogue, and they seemed new to the area. All I know is that ND is creating a moral dilemma here, and as to what will become of this, the jury is still out completely.

One small personal criticism, take it or leave it: I don’t personally love that the kiss with Dina and scene with Joel defending Ellie was kept off-stage in the game and left to the trailer. We could have started at the dance. That would have taught us everything we need to know about Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Joel and Ellie’s relationship state. This is my only criticism of the story so far. From a writer’s perspective, it’s just inefficient and clumsy to try and cover all that in expositional dialogue, taking into consideration that many casual players will not have seen all the trailers. Even still, it’s not hurting my experience in any way. Just an observation and maybe a bit of personal opinion on the fact that perhaps the choice to reveal so much scene in pre-release trailers might be a great way to build hype but might not be the most efficient choice in telling the actual story. My two cents!

In the end, I’m overall super excited and can’t wait to keep playing. These are just my own personal thoughts, and I’ll be back with more thoughts soon!! PLEASE NO SPOILERS OR SPOILERY SUGGESTIONS IN THE REPLIES!! I am NOT privy to the leaks and I do NOT want to know what’s coming. Thank you!! ^_^ 

[bangtanmythology]

In The Name Of Song. Truth Uncovered.

About: Y/N finds out the whole story of what she has become and who those around her are. Her training starts and her and Jimin become the siblings he’s always known they were.

Brother!Jimin x Reader, Mermaid!Jimin, Angel!Yoongi. BTS Supernatural AU.

Words: 2.9K

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“I understand the parent’s side of things. My Great, Great Grandmother betrayed a group of witches by having an affair with the head witches’ husband, who was a human and had a child, so they cursed her. The curse meant that she would never be able to marry a regular human or another mermaid, if she did fall in love with any of these then she was destined to kill him with her voice. Right? So, when she sang a lullaby to her baby, the husband died. The baby, who was my great grandmother, ended up marrying an nasty, rebelling mermaid, their female baby was born half mermaid, the other half became what was known as a siren because the baby, our grandmother, used her powers for evil things, she’d lure sailors in, killing them and using them, never falling in love but instead simply killing them. When we use our siren form to lure people instead of making them fall in love, we will simply kill them. Grandma used the sailors and ended up having a baby with one of them, she abandoned this baby and another mermaid raised mum.” You rambled,

The story was beyond complicated, your head spinning round in circles as Jimin stared at you, nodding every so often with a focused look on his face. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on your ankle, in the few hours that Yoongi had left you alone with Jimin you came to realise that he was an extremely clingy person.

“Yes, that’s all correct and then you know the story with mum and dad, we are now indebted to the reapers but the devils and angels work along side these reapers and when an angel falls, instead of becoming a devil, they are stuck wandering around the earth however they retain some of their angel powers. Yoongi is a fallen angel because he betrayed Michael, the archangel. He has not told me what he did to this day. He is stuck on earth, he begged the reapers to kill him again, to take him from this world and place him as a devil in the next but they would not do it. He begged for a purpose, for something to do, for something to protect, they told him that his debt would be payed off if he spent his life watching over our families. They told him that when we turned 18 he had to bring us here and watch us, make sure that we weren’t causing harm to the reality that we were in, this is the 7th Reality, we’re from the first reality which is the main reality. He had some other mermaids brought here to train me, our grandmother is here, she’s going to help you, along with me, we’re going to train you.” Jimin’s voice was soothing, his words somehow sinking fully into you and making it seem as though maybe all of this would be okay. 

“Right, so he is a fallen angel, a bad one? He stares at me funny.” You mumbled, looking down at Jimin’s hand that was now gently running over the smaller grazes on your calves. Jimin looked up at you, shaking his head and laughing,

“He’s not bad, he was kicked out of the angel realm, that’s all, he’s grumpy, I mean he basically looks after this world all alone, the reapers went extinct 9 years ago and nobody else was sent to care for everything. Half of this world is dead, only magical creatures and hybrids live here. There’s human’s who are sent here to repent their sins, a lot of the creatures and hybrids feast on them. Werewolves and vampires are the worst, we have those in our reality too, they are aggressive, dangerous cannibals who feast on people and kill them. Of course, the werewolves and vampires here take care of those who are criminals. Quite often the ones sent here are either humans who commit serious crimes that they get put into life imprisonment or death row. We also have monsters who fight amongst themselves sent here. This is basically a training ground for a lot of people who are supernatural. We only stay here for a coupe of years and then we go back to the reality we are from. Originally, Yoongi was going to be sent to the 2nd reality to purge it, it is a hell reality, everything burns there, everything is crime and corruption. Of course, that would have been an awful place for us to be seeing as we’re weak to fire after all.” Jimin was rambling, his head now on your thighs as you ran your fingers through his hair, petting down the stray hairs that always seemed to stick up around his face.

“Well, if we’re weak to fire, what actually are our powers and what exactly am I doing here? How long will I be here?” you were looking around the cave, the water placing you in a trance as your eyes focused and unfocused on the shapes beneath it.

“Well, our skin is like that of a fish, of course when we are in our human form it doesn’t look like it or feel like it, but it definitely still is. You will notice that you’re now comforted when you are in the water, in fact if you really need to you can actually manipulate the water, nothing intricate, we can’t make patterns or anything but we can make ripples, waves, if we work together in groups we can even cause tsunamis. The ocean is where we are the strongest. I read a few books that say that if we meet another being, we can give them the ability to breath underwater which is obviously one of our strengths. Fire burns us severely, even the slightest touch will scald our skin and burn us, fire will kill us 3 times faster than it will kill anything else. When we sing, we attract others, they become enchanted by the sounds of our voices and we can lure them in, make them fall in love with us. I’ve done so with many girls, that’s why I have a bit of a reputation,” His voice trailed off at the end, his tone turning into a cheeky, playful tone that had you chuckling slightly. The small, adorable guy who was currently half asleep on your lap did not seem like he could be seducing anyone. His cheeky, lazy smile put doubt into you when I t came to his adorable clingy personality and you were sure that he could be a scary person when needed.

“I highly doubt that you are luring any women in with this clinginess Jimin, plus I haven’t sung a day in my life, nor will I, I sound like a trampled cat when I sing and it really isn’t pleasant,” Your voice was full of laughter and playfulness, mimicking his tone. The fever you had been burning up in had since disappeared and Yoongi explained that it was because he dumped you straight into the water as soon as you got here and you had transformed into your mermaid body, the reason behind the cuts, bruises and scrapes across your legs. You had not remembered anything because apparently it had been excruciating and Jimin convinced Yoongi to erase your memory of the pain.

“Hey! I lure plenty of women in I’ll have you know,” Jimin mumbled. You gazed down at him, a loud laugh escaping your mouth as his cheeks burned bright pink. He was half asleep, a huge smile of his face as your fingers continued carding through your hair.

“Y’know, both of us were left with parent’s that knew what we’d become, they’re humans who come from special families, protectors, they take in orphaned supernatural children and babies. I hated them when I first went there, I was 6, I understood what was going on, I wouldn’t talk to them, I lashed out, I did not want to be there. I wanted to go back to you, I wanted my little sister, I’ve known all these years that I had a sister, that I couldn’t contact her, that there was a little girl out there who needed me and I couldn’t do anything, I didn’t try hard enough, I’m a fai-“

“shut up. Do not talk like that Jimin. You couldn’t have done anything, we were separated for a reason, I didn’t know you existed, I was always protected, I never had problems. I used to be different you know, I used to be cheerful and naïve, I had someone in my life, an older brother figure, he protected me. Sure, he betrayed my trust but because of that I became careful, I stopped trusting people, I can analyse people, I closed myself off. Of course, he came back, and he’s kept his promise to this day, but I think something is weird about him. I think he’s like us, he disappears once a month for like a week or so and then he comes back always in a good mood and happy and he’s really athletic, strangely so, he’s really protective as well,” You were rambling, your brain trying to process that Seokjin may be something other than human. That everyone in your life might be more than human.

“He’s not like us, sounds like a werewolf to me,” Jimin sounded angry, his jaw clenching and unclenching to calm himself down, his fingers gripping his sweatpants.

“No way. You said that werewolves are nasty, evil creatures. Seokjin is lovely, he taught me to ride a bike, he took me to my first swimming lesson, he even spoke to my boyfriend when he embarrassed me and broke up with me in front of the whole school,” Your fingers had stilled in his hair, instead resting them on his forehead. Jimin let out a breathy laugh,

“Then he had an ulterior motive, he must have known about you being a mermaid, there is no way he’d do that purely for care for you. He knows more than he is giving up. Also, let me guess, you never saw that guy ever again?” Jimin was looking up at you, dark brown eyes shimmering, luminescent flecks lighting up his iris.

“Well no, I didn’t actually. That’s not like Seokjin, why would he use me for something like that, I knew him for 18 years, you know, I’ll bet that the years that he was gone was because he was here.” Your words were unsure and Jimin’s eyes were scanning over your face, a small pout set on his lips.

“Y/N, you don’t even believe what is coming out of your mouth right now. Anyway, I am sleepy, and I’d rather not sleep now, I’d like to be asleep and not out and about at night because I do not want an encounter with a vampire thank you very much.” Jimin was stretching his legs, raising himself to his feet, stretching his hand out to help you stand up with him. You stood with a groan, your legs protesting, knees feeling as though they were splitting in half from having been crossed for so long.

“How about I teach you how to change into your mermaid form, I mean, we only have a few hours of day light left and if you turn at night, you become a siren, not a mermaid. I’ve never seen one in person, but I’ve heard many rumours, apparently its not pretty, sorry Y/N.” Jimin had a big grin on his face, his previous radiant, happy attitude coming right back.

“You know what, I’d love that.” You smiled, your eyes looking around the cave, then down at your legs, wiggling your toes, patting the slightly damp floor of the cave with the sole of your foot. Your eyes flitted back up to meet Jimin’s.

“I have no idea how this works,” You chuckled, a nervousness creeping into your belly, he laughed and raised his hands above his head, intertwining his fingers and stretching them high above his head, leaning from side to side and then straight down, his hands touching the floor, his body surprisingly flexible.

“Well, first you’re going to need to be naked, there’s no way you can do it with clothes on. I won’t look, I promise, although, it’s not like I haven’t seen a naked woman before you know, and it’s not weird because all the mermaids have to see each other naked and also you’re my sister so I wont look at you in that way.” Jimin was laughing as he spoke, probably a reaction to the disgusted face you were giving him. You shook your head and pursed your lips.

“Definitely not, you need to close your eyes, then I’ll take my clothes off.” You told him, your voice pointed, echoing against the humid grey walls. He nodded his head and turned around, pulling his sweatpants down and jumping into the water, swimming a few feet away and keeping his back to you. You stood still for a moment, ensuring he was not going to turn around and embarrass you. Once he had been facing away from you for a few moments you began to undo your bikini top. Your brain suddenly remembered the words Yoongi had told you.

“Wait. Yoongi said that when I got here, he put me in the water and I transformed, does that mean that I was naked, and he put me back into my bikini?” You mumbled, cheeks heating up as you gripped the material of your bikini top in your hands. You saw Jimin shrug, his shoulders tucking into his neck as he raised his arms up in the air.

“when I got here, you were dressed but you definitely couldn’t have transformed with your clothes on. That’s one thing that Grandma made sure I never did.” He sounded bored and you quickly pushed your bottoms down your legs, stepping out of them and slowly lowering yourself into the water. You sighed as the pain in your legs seemed to disappear, the water seeping into your wounds as the water sparkled and the cuts, grazes and nicks in your skin seem to vanish slowly.

“erm, what’s happening to my legs?” You mumbled, your jaw hanging low as shock set into your body,

“Oh, well this water has been here for years, it’s connected to the sea of life, who even knows I don’t understand it either, this is the only body of water that does that, even the rest of the sea of life doesn’t do that,” He was smiling, you could tell by his tone. His hands clapped together as he mumbled a small ‘right then’ under his breath.

“okay, you need to picture your tail in your head. Close your eyes and imagine a fish, it is a beautiful, shiny fish, it is sparkling and swimming freely, zooming through the sea, it is happy, content with its life. Feel the water graze over its fins, it is warm, flowing in and out of coral and then, it becomes a human, with a beautiful, long tail.” His words are painting an exact picture into your head. You picture an emerald green fish, the colour of Jimin’s tail with golden colouration around its tail. It swam, shining, weaving between rocks, coral and other large fishes around it. The fish became engulfed by a bright light as a sharp shooting pain engulfed your legs and you could hear a faint voice.

“Keep focused, ignore the pain, focus on the fish,”

The bright light faded into a yellow hue, shortly replaced by a turquoise wave that seemed to break directly into your face before the wave disappeared. Small bubbles spread out in the water, a woman with beautiful green hair had her back to you, golden scales over her hips and waist, a large expanse of her back was clear, beautiful skin, the skin merging with the scales on the small of her back. Your eyes moved down to where her legs should have been, the golden scales faded into a beautiful emerald green, the gold returning down the sides of her beautiful, long tail. The bottom fin of her tail was a completely translucent golden colour, shimmering inside of the water. The fin was long, at least a half the size of the tail, split down the middle, two sides forming two curved, soft scalene triangle shapes that fluttered inside the water.

“you did it!”

Your eyes shot open, staring ahead of you. You felt the same, completely normal.

“No, I didn’t. I feel the same,” You mumbled, disappointment sinking into your features. Jimin laughed and shook his head, flicking his emerald tail as he swam towards you, reaching his hands out to grab at your feet, your arms stretch out behind you to balance yourself on the rocks behind you. His eyes glistened a brilliant green as they stared down at your tail.

Tail.

“oh my god! I did it!” You were screaming, the noise bouncing off the walls, a musical symphony piercing your ears, your eyes widened as you heard it, sending chills down yours and Jimin’s spines. You looked down at yourself, the beautiful gold and emerald tail you had seen in your mind was yours. Your chest was a translucent, shiny golden colour, it wasn’t scaly like your tail but more like the skin of a frog, glistening and smooth, your breasts completely covered in the golden colouring.

“Wow, this is amazing,” You laughed, a loud, airy laugh as you wiggled your tail out of Jimin’s grasp

[palmett-hoes]

Do you have any Jewish Neil hcs? I have some but a lot of them conflict with each other and I can’t make up my mind which I like best but I love hearing other people’s because they’re always better anyway.

aww no no no i wanna hear them!! message me @hoob-gooblin if u wanna (it's my main nd where i can answer messages from) (no pressure tho if u dont wanna)

and don't worry my hc's for jewish neil and his family history and stuff are all over the place too and changing all the time. i just stick to the one central tenant that that boy is jewish no matter what

also, i'm not actually jewish. it's a long and complicated family story but suffice to say, my dad is, i never was, and i've got some... feelings about that

so i kinda project my feelings of alienation from judaism onto neil and also use him as an excuse/motivation to learn about judaism and jewish history bc also i fuckin love? ethnographic research?

so first off all. very fun to read aftg as an exodus narrative. neil as moses. exy as religion. (this is straight up ridiculous i swear). nathan and mary as pharaoh and pharaoh's wife that keep him in the dark of his 'truth.' his time as a runaway as the flight from egypt. tfc/most of trk as canaan (kinship and self-discovery). taunting riko, protecting the foxes, killing nathan, negotiating with the moriyamas as the plagues/miracles (not to mention that the basement has a lot of 'death of the first born' energy, prevented with lamb's blood (neil's sacrifice of his life for the foxes) and the intervention of an angel (stuart)). defeating the ravens as crossing the red sea.

oh and this mf?

ABSOLUTELY one of my neil refs

so yea besides all that insanity

the parts of reading neil as jewish that really make me emotional is his status as a runaway. moving from place to place. being chased away over and over again. never having a home. always looking over his shoulder. the entire jewish disapora for thousands of years have just been a play on that again and again, of having to flee from someone trying to kill you. reading jewish history is so sad. i mean, spain, russia, britain, germany, north africa, the middle east, ethiopia just to name some of the biggest ones. it's a story of constant migration and the way that mirrors neil's own journey speaks to me very much

BUUUUT some actual headcanons

nathan was much more dismissive of religion and actively discouraged his wife from practicing openly and would punish neil for bringing it up. at times he would even 'play christian' by decorating for christmas for show.

to me both nathan and mary were jewish (bc i have this complex about not heaping more ideological weight on either of neil's parents so i pretty much mirror any identity-based-hc's on them)

mary would attend synagogue sometimes but only the services, she never stayed around or made any connections. sometimes she'd bring neil and he'd LOVE it because he never got to go out anywhere, ever.

i like to think that mary was always multilingual with neil, and is of some maghrebi jewish descent so has been speaking to him in french and hebrew his whole life when she could. he's only fluent in languages he lived in daily but hebrew is his most personal language because it was the one that was just between him and his mother

he primarily knows emotion words in hebrew 'i'm tired.' 'i'm scared.' 'i'm hurt.' it's his secrets language, the only one that wasn't about blending in.

neil's version of 'abram' for mary was 'ima'

they stayed in a number of algerian jewish communities when they lived in france, and tended to seek out synagogues when they needed food, but couldn't afford establishing a pattern that could be used to predict where they might go

he leaves one rock on the place where he buried his mother

anywhoodle less sad hc's

psu has a jewish center on campus. neil attends occasionally.

he talks to renee sometimes, about god. he doesn't really know if he believes but sometimes he needs something to be angry at

after he tells the foxes he's jewish he never has to celebrate christmas again. it's a relief for a million reasons

nicky, a baptist born and raised, doesn't really 'get' it but gets really enthusiastically into trying to celebrate 'neil's holidays' until neil tells him to tone it down. they do go out and find a purim festival every year tho

he never officially joins a congregation but does eventually have a bar mitzvah

neil has no taste buds and will eat gefilte fish

'can i be buried in a jewish cemetery? i mean, i HAD a tattoo, but then it got burned off with a cigarette lighter...' 'jesus christ, neil' 'whomst?'

one night, when they both have too much rage that needs to be released, andrew and neil go to an empty lot and smash glasses and bottles together, stomping on the shards. they leave holding hands

[splinterapollo]

Flint “Splinter” Apollo

NAME: Flint “Splinter” Apollo GOES BY: Splint, Splinter, Apollo AGE: 34 BIRTHDAY: October 2nd GENDER: Male || Cis ORIENTATION: Hetero. ROLE: Outlander || Ranger OCCUPATION: Arrowsmith Nanotech Tinkerer.

If you ever hear whistling… duck. No? Not fast enough? Then just fucking move. Three inches seems harmless – a waste even? You know how deep you need to penetrate a chest cavity before you puncture the most used organ in the body? Three inches. Even then, that’s a hell of an arrow… consider the force of it travelling at speed… by the time you’ve thought about it, you’re bleeding out and you can’t breath…

Splinter’s are harmless most of the time, this one, isn’t.

So if you hear whistling, move.

And if you’re still breathing; it was never meant for you. Because it never misses. So there’s no actual need for those three inches, irreversible damage can be made with just one. Then picture five more of those arrows piercing flesh in rapid succession – get the picture?

Move out the way, these Splinter’s kill.

Every breath matters: inhale, exhale, steady the heart – draw, hold, release. The sound produced, unforgettable; distinct in the way it cuts through air, travels with precision and speed that ends in an entirely difference place to where it began. Lands in the face of the target, buried in wood and shavings peel away to make room for the forced arrow. Flint’s watched his father perform such a ritual for years, knows he’s close by just by the whistling, a noise never quite silenced no matter how good the archer.

But it always lands. And the whistling stops.

Flint’s childhood is foggy; snippets he can’t quite grip hold of to form vivid memories, but he remembers arrows like they were only thing that made sense. He knows his mother worked with the Council; a high ranking researcher in amongst the scientists, nanotechnology a specialism that Flint stared at from a distance – the way she spoke about it like it could have been the cure for everything; like nothing would ever be a problem; health; medicine; life would be so prosperous with this miniscule technology crafted by smart hands and reserved for only those with clearance.

Where he filled in empty spots in his mind about his mother – grew to learn about her work, his father; an ardent smith for the sentinels in the Council’s ranks taught Flint everything there was to know about being a ranger, at least, about the skill required. The training, that was all beneath the noses of those who might disapprove of a youth fletching and carving arrows to be used outside the barracks.

From that. Draw, hold, release comes after. And Flint’s gifted with it. An archer’s paradox the start of how Flint Apollo does it differently.

Not all mothers have technology that when manipulated correctly, can be just as lethal as it is helpful. It’s evident from the first interest he takes in it, she knows the Council won’t approve of the man’s ideas; theories that maybe he can craft arrowheads from the nanotech – imagine the potential for that… how damaging, how that slight occasional paradox never has to affect an archer again.

His mother put it down to grief; a state of guilt – because two years prior to that, Jax Apollo, Flint’s father lost his life the same way he lived it.

With a whistle in his ears.

Only, Flint’s the one who fired it; an accident, a great shot, but fatal. That’s how Flint knows how easy it is to puncture the heart. How he’s thrown so deep into the end of the pool, that swimming without a life raft and instead a bow in hand isn’t going to save anyone. But nanotech could. And his mother in her own grief – her love for her son that pushed through the shock; trauma of the accident off site, kept so secret as to not endanger Flint’s life – potential to be in the serving ranks if it ever came to light that he watched his father bleed out whilst he clenched the cause like it would save him

“Just imagine if medics could heal from a distance – if they had an eye like I could, the damage could be reversed, an arrow fired –”

“Flint, stop. That’s enough. You’ve done enough already, take yourself out and put a splinter elsewhere, nanotechnology will save lives, but not in the way you want it to… you’ll make a weapon of it…”

And he did.

Tera doesn’t welcome it; stares bug-eyed at the mere concept that there’s two sides to everything; both sides of the arrowhead are sharp and deadly and in the coming days that Flint spirals, theorises what he knows of nanotechnology from his mother, she begins to question whether the accident all those years ago was as straightforward as that. If there’s something darker; more obsessive at play. The young Apollo always meant well, anyone who asks would say he’s arrogant – does it with a grin, but emanates a warmth that’s somehow modest to the skill in his hands when the extension of his being in placed within them; when he gets to make a whistle.

He doesn’t know if he’s the cause, if The Council played a part in the end days of his adult life on Tera or if something else factored into the downfall of one of the most renowned researchers on the planet; one of the most specialised woman in nanotechnology, but the death of his mother – draw, hold, release. How a man like Flint copes when all he’s once known is revoked, he doesn’t know the details, only knows that there’s delirium before her vanishing; reported dead by those in the laboratories halls and yet, doesn’t quite believe it.

And Tera doesn’t have the answers; won’t give him any when he presses. Holds an arrow to their throats and demands it hopelessly. Like everything they’re great at hiding, they’re not kind. 

So before the Council have a chance to neutralise the last of the Apollo’s; the gifted archer, nanotechnology tinkerer, he gets out. Leaves behind any legacy that might have come from parents with a purpose and follows his own to the other side of the Blood Wood; to the Outlands. A home that’s beyond, welcoming of his ideas – though he won’t admit them all upfront, doesn’t invoke the fear in the eyes of the Outlanders that the Terran’s once had for his spieling.

He wants answers; needs to know what is beneath the surface of the Council’s front and why his mother’s death was brushed beneath the carpet like she was simply expendable. Flint’s kept up with his mother’s words: he’ll put splinters elsewhere, the nickname given and part of the memory he has of her. Keeps it with the fear that it might someday become foggy like the rest of them. He’ll stand against everything his parents believed in for them; show them that his tinkering, his archery ability and dangerously skilled actions with that isn’t forgotten; a mistake to make an enemy of.

So careful when you hear that whistle, you might just get a splinter.

Connections || Family 

Jax Apollo || Father, deceased. Lora Apollo || Mother, deceased 

Connections || Misc.

The Acosta’s | Splinter knows the Acosta’s through connections within Tera, Iliana’s husband always being the primary friend in Splinter’s life and part of the reason he’s not allowing the death of his mother to be taken at face value. They were considered comrades and had similar ideologies in battle tactics/sentinel views despite Splinter being somewhat obsessive over the combination of nanotechnology into his craft. He knows Iliana well and remains vigilant about the way both his former best friend and his mother both died in the same bracket within the Terran walls. Splinter and Iliana have a good relationship, albeit, unorthodox and slightly chaotic.

Sev3n | Splinter’s mother worked closely and reported to Sev3n as part of the nanotechnology department within Tera, in turn, Flint knows of them and has greatened his nanotech knowledge through the way it’s been passed down to the researchers within the nano field; but Lora Apollo is the primary connection for this, Flint being secondary.  

Further Depth

Flint goes by Splinter due to both his mother’s sideways nickname and his affinity for archery. But Splint, or Apollo works just the same. Flint is reserved for those who’ve known him for a length of time – from Tera most likely.

Nine times out of ten, he’s equipped with his gear – spends a good portion of everyday training and/or working on the limited, worn nanotechnology he swiped from his time in Tera. It’s not common to civilians so much he does the latter.

Tinkers a hell of a lot though – tries to develop a method to both use the nanotechnology as a healing method when fired on/in an arrow from a distance as well as weaponizing it for just the same kind of thing… but with more ouch and BOOM.

 Sometimes, he’s funny.

Other times, he might leave someone with a splinter with no guilt for doing it.

There’s a distinct pattern of lines along his collarbone that resemble arrow punctures – he doesn’t talk about it, don’t ask but it relates to a former injury when making his first arrowheads with his father as a young child.

Is an arrowsmith in the Outlands and forges some specialty arrowheads that have a wild case of acting the hell up.

He’ll tell you straight up, he doesn’t miss a shot.

So don’t argue it, not worth the hassle. Boost his ego and move on, it’s safer for everyone.

 P H I L A N D E R E R

Dedicated to the Outlanders and believes they are fighting for a more just cause than the place he was raised in.

[pls lmk if you want connections, we can talk]

[papa-rhys]

New Dawn: Where are they now?

Here are my headcanons for what Hope County folk would be up to in New Dawn (if they all survived). I stuck to main characters (catergory 1 and 2) for this and I didn’t count anyone who died in fc5 canon because there’s 100% no chance they’d be in New Dawn and this is meant to be a “what I expect from X character if they appear in ND” thing. If I missed any important people out, then let me know and I’ll see about adding them in!

Holland Valley

Mary May Fairgrave: Lives in Prosperity, even though she doesn’t enjoy it as she can’t quite shake the thought that John used to live there. She runs a makeshift bar in the kitchen. She tells everyone that it’s because it boosts the morale of the people living there, but really it’s because she misses the connection that the Spread Eagle had to her parents. She grew up behind the bar, so in the first 10 or so years after the bombs fell, when she was kept away from the Spread Eagle, she didn’t feel like herself. Making her own replica of the Spread Eagle in John’s old kitchen makes her feel like she’s a little closer to home.

Jerome Jeffries: In charge of Prosperity. He lead a few people to John’s ranch to look for shelter after they crawled out of their bunkers and as the group has steadily grown in size, they all look to him as the founder/man in charge. He doesn’t like to sit indoors and let people do his bidding though, so if he sends someone out on a supply run or a job, he’ll likely go with them. Otherwise, he feels like a bossy control freak who doesn’t care about his people and just has them running around and working themselves to the bone for him. It makes him feel too much like Joseph and he obviously hates that.

Casey Fixman: Casey still cooks for the people of Prosperity primarily (also sending nice home cooked meals to the Wolf’s Den once a week as a treat for the remaining Whitetails), but he also provides valuable knowledge about combat and the inner workings of human beings. He’s a very knowledgeable guy and Jerome can often be found having hush-hush meetings with him behind the kitchen whenever Jerome needs advice on how to handle a problem.

Nick Rye: Nick looks after the kids of Prosperity. He doesn’t fly much anymore as he’s found happiness in other things, like spending time with his family and looking out for the children that were born into this new world. He finds it incredibly rewarding to give them some kind of normality in the form of reading to them or playing hopscotch with them in the grass – things that he believes all kids should do.

Kim Rye: Kim works with Nick as a duo. Whilst he has fun with the kids, she gives them an education. She teaches them basic things, like reading, writing, maths (the important bits), etc. But she also teaches them basic (and age-appropriate) combat. Among other things, she teaches them how to hold a knife, how to fire a gun, and how to break free if someone grabs them. She loves working with the kids and takes pride in knowing that she’s helping them to stay safe. Nick is also super proud of the work she does and tells her everyday, of course.

Carmina Rye: Much to Kim and Nick’s misery, Carmina is a total brawler and is always desperate to go out on runs with the supply team. She wants to explore the world outside the walls of Prosperity and meet new people, often sneaking out of Prosperity and scaring her parents to death. She gets into trouble with Hudson a lot, mainly for silly teenage pranks or generally causing trouble. She likes Wheaty a whole lot and always finds an excuse to go with the trading team when they deliver things to the Wolf’s Den. She denies that it’s a crush, but it 100% is. Safe to say Nick doesn’t like Wheaty much anymore.

Grace Armstrong: Grace runs an adult combat training program. The kids get basic training from Kim, but once they get to a certain age, they move up to the adult tier, where Grace will give them full training. Including, but not limited to: how to use all types of firearm, how to properly use knives, how to fight without weapons, how to free yourself from restraints, different signals used in combat (and what they mean), and how to stealth kill. She’s basically doing the same job as Jacob, except she does it way better than he ever could.

Joey Hudson: Hudson is still a cop! She’d live in Prosperity and she’d patrol the place and make sure that everyone is getting on okay. She’d handle any arguments and disputes that people had, because even though they’re all on the same side, they’re still bound to fight. So she keeps the peace. She has a shorter fuse these days and has a tendency to get mad at people pretty quickly sometimes, but everyone knows what she went through and they cut her some slack, knowing that she doesn’t mean any harm.

Whitetail Mountains

Tammy Barnes: Tammy lives in the Wolf’s Den and still does the same kind of stuff. She “handles” what’s left of the cultists and still looks after Wheaty (who is now 36 years old and still doesn’t do his own laundry). She’s toned it down with the torture in recent years though, and has more time to do mundane things (like cooking, cleaning, and spending time with Wheaty) which she finds a lot of solace in doing. She also managed to find her true calling – knitting copious amounts of scarfs that Wheaty wouldn’t be caught dead in, although he appreciates the sentiment.

Wheaty: Wheaty now runs what’s left of the Whitetail Militia out of the Wolf’s Den. He went straight to the bunker when the bombs hit and after things had settled, he focused his efforts on rounding up as many of the remaining Whitetails as he could, desperate to hold onto Eli’s legacy. Now he trades with Prosperity and offers the help of his men and women should Prosperity ever need it (and vice-versa). When he’s not swamped with work and making sure his people are safe as they scavenge for supplies, he’s winding down by watching old tapes of Eli’s favourite TV show or home videos of Eli and his family celebrating Christmas or birthdays. He also still enjoys his music; often playing records for Tammy - the same ones that the Deputy collected for him all those years ago.

Hurk Jr: Still resides in Fort Drubman, which he’s built upon and fortified since his dad’s death. He doesn’t really do much outside of shooting at beer bottles and setting off rockets in his backyard, which he claims to have a good reason for beyond “it’s a whole heap of fun, amigo.” He occasionally works as a hired gun, helping out on supply runs for the Whitetail Militia whenever they need someone a little more… “heavy-handed.” In exchange, they give him a fraction of the supplies that were found (which is increased if he sustains an injury on the run). Other than that, he’s all about “kicking back and gettin’ buzzed, man.”

Jess Black: Jess lives in the wilderness, setting up her camp in a different place each night. She makes an effort to stay pretty clear of other people, suspecting that human beings have only gotten more dangerous since the end of the world. Tammy gets in contact with her from time to time, just to make sure she’s okay (after Eli and Dutch died, Tammy took on the responsibility of checking in on Jess), but other than that, Jess rarely has contact with people. She dedicates all of her time to surviving in the wilderness and any spare time that she has is spent on hunting and crafting. I could see her sat in front of a campfire crafting arrows or cooking a rabbit for her dinner. She doesn’t really care for anything else and is more than happy to live a secluded life alone in the forests of Hope County.

Staci Pratt: Pratt needs something calm, easy, and mundane ever since his brains were scrambled by Jacob. He can’t handle stress anymore and isn’t safe enough to be in combat or unsupervised around people. So he assists Casey in the kitchen, cooking food for Prosperity, which he enjoys more than he thought he would. In his spare time, he likes to read – mainly because it helps him to practice focusing his mind. He struggles picking out individual thoughts, often jumbling things together and getting stressed out by it. So reading a book and forcing himself to take time focusing on each individual sentence is really helpful for him. He also enjoys the escapism and seeing characters get happy endings. Other than reading, he likes spending time with friends; especially Hudson, who he feels very connected to after going through similar things.

Henbane River

Earl Whitehorse: He tried to secure the prison after getting out of his bunker, but it was too far gone, so he moved on to Prosperity. For a while, he acted as Sheriff of Prosperity, helping Hudson keep the peace in the ever-growing settlement. But he eventually began thinking of the apocalypse as his second chance. He figured that if he survived the war in Hope County, the Bliss, and then the nukes, then that has to mean something. And he didn’t want to waste his new lease of life on doing the same thing he’d been doing for the previous 30+ years. So now he spends most of his days fishing in the river behind Prosperity, providing fresh (albeit oddly coloured and disproportionate) fish for Casey to cook and providing himself with a taste of the well-deserved retirement that he never got to see.

Tracey Lader: Tracey has a whole lot of anger to share with her enemies (and people in general) so she found her place as a soldier. She acts as one of Jerome’s most trusted lieutenants and is second in command (and sometimes completely in charge, when Jerome isn’t there) of most of the supply run teams that are sent out. She debated going it alone like Jess for a while, but she ultimately likes human contact too much to live like that – no matter how annoying people can be sometimes. She’s pretty busy running the show for Jerome, so she doesn’t get much spare time, but when she does, she spends it in her room, brooding.

Sharky Boshaw: Sharky goes back and forth between locations; sometimes living in Prosperity, and sometimes living in Fort Drubman with Hurk. He still likes fire. A lot. But he contributes a little more to the grouthan he used to, using his “creative genius” (his words) to devise traps for enemies, ideally keeping said enemies as far away from the walls of Prosperity as possible. There’s sharpened branches, there’s tripwires, and most importantly; there’s fire. In his spare time, he messes around with Hurk, getting up to all kinds of trouble and not being inconspicuous in the slightest – much to Jerome’s dismay.

Adelaide Drubman: Adelaide is 83 years old now so it’s a miracle she’s still alive and you best believe she doesn’t let anybody forget it. She’s still rampantly horny, but doesn’t have the energy to keep up with her own needs anymore. So she spends most of her days messing with people around Prosperity; picking on them and getting a kick out of getting adverse reactions from them. She’s quite close with Carmina Rye (unfortunately for Nick and Kim), who keeps her feeling young, and Carmina finds her hilarious. The pair can often be found sat on the front steps of the former ranch, giggling at passers by and enjoying some time away from the destruction and misery.

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

The Count of Ferelden

Pairing: Vampire!Alistair x Female!Cousland!Reader Summary: Every other generation, the 2nd born of house Cousland goes up to the castle, sacrificing themselves so that the town might be safe for years to come. It’s your turn, as the younger Cousland, to take up the mantle. But the monster in the castle isn’t what you expected. For starters, he rambles and is easily one of the least graceful men you’ve ever met. Word Count: ~3,206 A/N: This is the sixth Monster!Character one shot for Spooktober 2018! If you’d like to be tagged in other Spooktober stories like this one, check out this post! Send me Spooktober requests for Monster!Character fics you want to see!

Masterlist // The Monster Series Collection

The finest silks that felt like flowing water on your skin. A parade the likes of which was only seen in Highever once in a generation. Smiling faces and loud cheers.

You barely saw it as you passed by the waving townspeople. Rose and Daisy petals fluttered to the ground, staining the rough grey stone white.

Fergus, Oriana, Oren, and your parents were waiting at the edge of town, surrounded by the largest group of Ferelden revelers yet.

You stopped closest to your brother and you knew it was only tradition that stopped him from reaching out for your hand (which you recognized dimly was shaking). The conversation from a week ago flashed in your mind.

“It should be me going, not you! Everyone knows you’re stronger than me. You’’ be a better ruler than I’ll ever be.”

You stared at Fergus with a melancholy smile. “Physical strength isn’t all there is to ruling. You know that. Regardless, you have a wife and child, Fergus. I know you’re not considering abandoning them.”

That made Fergus stand up straight, lips pressed in a tight line. From the way he didn’t immediately protest, you knew you’d won.

“I’m going to the castle tomorrow, brother, and nothing can stop it. It’s my duty as the second child born to house Cousland.”

His eyes were stormy but a second later he was closing the distance between you and sweeping you up in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sorry, sister. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hugged him back fiercely, allowing yourself this single moment of weakness before you let him go and smiled. “I would do anything to keep you, our family, and our people safe, Ferg.”

It was a lie. You were scared. You wanted to turn your horse around and run for the hills. But you stared forward, giving your family a brave nod, face a stony mask.

You nudged your horse onward and Fergus dropped your hand, a tired, strained smile on his face. Now was not the time for goodbyes; now was the time for revelry. The terynir would be safe for another generation. Mothers wouldn’t have to worry about their children. Wives wouldn’t fret over whether or not their husbands would come home from the woods and fields. Children wouldn’t grow up having to know what it was like to live without a parent.

The tradition was old, dating back to before the Cousland family even existed. Some say it went back to when the peoples of Ferelden called themselves Alamarri.

You weren’t the first and you wouldn’t be the last.

The people stopped following about halfway to the castle, having long grown tired and wary of the surrounding forests and rolling hillsides. You didn’t blame them, really. Until you passed through the gates to the castle grounds they wouldn’t know if they’d be safe.

As it was, you realized that you’d grown numb to the dread until you spotted the highest spires of the castle through the trees. Terror coiled in the pit of your stomach and you realized that you should relax (getting thrown by your spooked horse would only make this that much more painful), but that was easier said than done.

Still, your bitter march continued until, finally, the castle grounds came into sight. You could see the winding path up to the castle through the large, imposing wrought iron gate and gulped.

This was it.

This was the day you died.

You dismounted when you got close enough and checked the old mare’s saddle. Satisfied it wouldn’t shift or rub her wrong, you undid her bridle and gave her a large smack on her haunch, watching forlornly as she huffed in fear and immediately bolted back towards the city. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care that she’d kicked up mud onto your pristine white silk dress. You hated the thing anyway.

Hesitantly, you reached forward and pressed gently on the gate, eyes widening in surprised as it opened the second your fingertips touched the chilly metal.

“Right, because that’s not creepy at all,” you muttered, wincing as it creaked so loudly you were sure it’d wake the dead.

You held your head high, ears perked for any sound as you walked up the winding path towards the castle. The creature in the castle had no love for its shrubbery, if the state of the grounds was anything to go by.

More than once your dress brushed against the dried leaves on the ground, nearly scaring you out of your skin. You glanced up at the windows, thinking you saw movement, but when your eyes zeroed in on it there was nothing there.

But then you were at the front doors. You’d been half expecting for the creature to jump out of a bush at you, or something, but why do that when your prey had to come to you?

You raised a hand and grasped one of the gigantic brass knockers which was more intricate than anything you had back at Castle Cousland. The knock reverberated, deep and echoing, and the doors (which must have been twice your height or more) swung inwards with nary a whisper, which was a startling contrast to the gate out front.

“Hello?”

It was a stupid reflex that you wanted to take back as soon as it was out of your mouth.

You jumped about a foot in the air when a loud crashing noise came from the top of the grand staircase in front of you, followed by, “Andraste’s tits!” A moment later a man- and it was a man, if you could believe your eyes- appeared at the top of the stairs. He took one look at you and your clothing, glanced outside, then cursed so quietly under his breath that you couldn’t hear the finer details. Something along the lines of “mabari shite” and “applesauce.” “Is it that time already? I could have sworn they only sent someone up a few years ago.”

You gaped at the man who, even from this far away, you could tell was handsome. Strawberry blond hair, an unfairly sharp jawline, and pink lips that you were sure most women would be envious of.

Instead of continuing to gawk, you schooled your features. “Are you he who I was sent here to meet?” you asked, thankful your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He shifted nervously. “I suppose so. You are from Castle Cousland, right? Not just a very, very lost... runaway bride?” he asked, looking you up and down again before he looked away a little awkwardly.

Something... wasn’t right. But you had a job to do. “I am (Y/N) Cousland, here to offer myself so that you might spare the people of Highever your wrath.”

To your surprise, he groaned and plopped down heavily onto the stairs, head cradled between his hands. “Oh hound’s arse, not again...” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear. He let out a long-suffering sigh and pinned you with a tentative look. “Well, it’s awkward enough talking to you from the top of the stairs. Could I at least show you to your room or something? I can look around for some human-friendly food, too, if you’d like.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, likely towards a room deeper in the house.

But you didn’t move and stared at him, off-kilter but refusing to fall for his tricks. “If I’m to die in this place I’d rather do it now. I have little patience for games and mind tricks.”

To your surprise he flopped backwards onto the plush carpet, then sneezed when the kicked-up dust tickled his nose. “This happens every time. Just what do you people think I do?” you heard him mutter. If you didn’t know any better he sounded almost.. exasperated? Distraught?

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest. “I dunno, eat people?”

The words were out before you could stop them and you froze in terror as he sat up abruptly and fixed you with an amused half smile. “Was that a sense of humor I heard, peeking through the sheer terror?”

Stop talking stop talking stop talking “Well, what’s the worst that could happen? You kill me?” Idiot. Andraste’s arse I’m an idiot. 

He stared at you for a second, jaw going slack with surprise, before he guffawed out a hearty laugh. You opened your mouth to say something when he began to quiet, only for your mouth to snap shut when his laughter only grew, filling the halls with a not wholly unpleasant sound.

After what felt like a small eternity he wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes, bright smile showcasing two dagger-sharp teeth that immediately had you tensing up again.

The smile slowly slipped off his face and he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m not actually going to eat you, you know.”

“I don’t believe you.” You wouldn’t let your fear show. Your hands were fisted into the fine material of your dress; you wouldn’t let this creature see your hands shake.

But he only sighed deeply again and made no real move to get up. “Yes, you people never do. I write a letter every year- after about thirty drafts, mind you- and send it down to the castle, but I never get a response. And yet, they continue to send people up every fifty years or so. I tried to go down and explain it to them in person once, but they chased me off with torches and pitchforks! Pitchforks! As though I’d be afraid of some farming equipment. Still, they made it plenty clear I wasn’t wanted there, so I headed back to this drafty old place. Do you know how absolutely, dreadfully boring it is, living in this big house all alone? I’ve started talking to the paintings and-” He paused and ran a hand down his face. “I’m rambling like a loon. Sorry, I know you’re not here to listen to my frankly pathetic life story. Would you like to see your room now?”

The monologue nearly gave you whiplash, but when he stared at you expectantly you blinked dumbly, confused out of your mind. You were still stuck on the first bit (and determinedly ignored the middle bit in which he talked about being very lonely). “So no eating me? Boiling my bones in a soup pot? Making my innards into sausage?” you asked, glaring at him.

But he balked, mouth opening and closing like a fish for a few beats before he found his words. “What? Of course not! Is that what the lot of you think I do up here? There’s a bit of nibbling at most.” He said the last part quietly and quickly, as though you might not hear it if he did.

“Some nibbling?” you trilled, angry and fearful in equal measures.

But he was frantically waving away your outburst, eyes wide. “Only if you agree, of course! I’d never bite you without your permission!”

“Why would I ever give you permission to bite me?” you asked, incredulous. Not only was he a vampire, he was an insane vampire.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Why am I always such rubbish at this talking thing?” He let out a year’s worth of sighs and peered at you from between his fingers. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Alistair. This is my castle. I’m a vampire. I won’t bite you unless you give me permission to do so. I spend most of my time fighting Darkspawn, but it takes a lot of my energy so I made a deal with the original rulers of the town down the hill: I would continue to protect them from the monsters in the night and, in return, they’d send someone every other generation who I could occasionally feed from to keep up my strength. Drinking goat blood isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know... They make good cheese, though.”

But you only scowled harder. “So you are going to eat me.”

He threw his hands up in the air and opened his mouth, likely to yell his frustration, but he merely snapped his mouth shut and slumped backwards onto the landing, once again coughing as he kicked up all the dust on the ground. “That would be a waste of a perfectly lovely woman,” you heard him mutter. The kindness of his sentiment was somewhat ruined by the fact that you were here against your will and his followup of, “What is it with you people and not hearing a word I say? I swear the original townsfolk weren’t this dense...”

“Excuse me?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

He raised his head enough to peer down at you, surprised. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes.” You tilted your chin up and glared at him defiantly.

His head hit the solid oak floor with a resounding thud and you nearly winced at how painful it sounded, but he only sighed deeply. “I swear this goes worse every time...” he muttered forlornly.

You stared at the pathetic pile of vampire, confusion crinkling your brow. This wasn’t how you expected today to go at all.

Without taking your eyes off of him or turning around, you took a step backwards, towards the grand doors. He didn’t so much as twitch so you took another step, then another.

It wasn’t until you reached blindly for the handle and found it that you stopped and stared at him. He hadn’t moved an inch, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he was able to hear you.

Yet he hadn’t moved to stop you so you took your chance and turned away.

You got as far as turning the handle before you froze and you turned back to look at him. “Did you mean it? About keeping my people safe in exchange for... my help?”

He finally sat up slowly and smoothly (it was a little disconcerting how he seemed to defy gravity) and, even as far away from him as you were, you could see him looking at you, unblinking and earnest. “Yes. I meant every word.”

You looked away, still half expecting him to pounce on you the moment you weren’t looking, and clenched your hands into the fabric of your dress. When you raised your head again, your jaw was set in determination. “Then I’ll stay.”

His face lit up like mage fire, bright smile changing his whole demeanor instantly. “Really? I don’t even have to grovel or anything? I was ready to grovel.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that slid onto your face. “I could go for some nice boot-licking, actually.”

He practically floated down the stairs, a startling contrast to his noisy entrance. You kept your posture as relaxed and confident as you could as he slowly made his way towards you. From the way he was holding himself it seemed a though he was trying to appear less intimidating (it didn’t work).

He stopped barely two feet away, close enough that you could see each individual wave of his hair and the flecks of brown in his hazel eyes. “My lady, I bid you welcome and thank you for your kind assistance.” His grin was charming as he bowed deeply, one hand going around his waist while his other took your hand in his. You fought the urge to pull away at his chilly touch, but his lips were soft and gentle when they placed a light kiss to your knuckles.

And then he straightened and you found a leather boot in your face, held there by the vampire, who was trying his best (and nearly failing) to hold in a laugh at the look on your face.

You stared at him, confused beyond measure, and he burst into laughter. The noise was bright and cheerful. Almost like magic, it was as though the halls around you could sense the change in the master of the house’s mood and they seemed slightly less daunting.

“You said you would enjoy some boot-licking. I thought I’d offer mine up, being the generous, selfless man that I am,” he managed to get out between barely-muffled laughter.

You stared at him, open-mouthed, before you burst into giggles. Your laughter only seemed to make his return twofold and, before long, both of you were doubled over. The laughter died down and you stared at each other, smiles pulling up the corners of your mouths. You wiped the tears out of the corners of your eyes and you grinned at him, eyebrows waggling. “Well, you know what they say: You scratch my back...”

“You lick my boot?” he finished, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You dissolved into giggles again, reaching out to steady yourself on his shoulder.

Both of you froze at the same time and the moment hung suspended the air.

He reached for your hand and took it in his, gently rubbing circles into your palm with his thumb. “I truly am grateful. And... I relish the chance to get to know you.”

You ignored the way your heart fluttered at his words and the feeling of his hand around yours. He was... more different than you could have ever imagined, but perhaps this would not be a fate you had to fear.

You blinked innocently up at him, giving nothing away, and said in the sweetest voice you could manage, “Now that’s the sort of brown-nosing I could get used to.”

He snorted and laughed a big, full belly laugh that had you grinning along with him.

“But if I’m going to stay here you’re going to help me scrub every inch of this castle clean.”

His laughter stopped abruptly and he gave you a look that was so reminiscent of a mabari pup that you nearly reached up to pat his head. “All of it?”

“Yes, all of it.”

He looked around guiltily, face getting more and more scrunched with horror the longer he looked. “Perhaps... we can start that tomorrow?”

But you were shaking your head. You dropped his hand so you could clutch at the bottom of the dress and, with an almighty tug, ripped a large slit up the side.

His hands flew to his face and you had no doubts that, if he still had a heart that beat, blood would have flooded his faintly freckled cheeks. “What are you- This is uh-”

You smirked and brushed past him, hands on your hips as you looked around, searching for a good place to start. “Can’t clean in this dress’ damned skirt. Not enough leg room. You going to assist me or not, pretty boy?” You smiled at him over your shoulder, challenging and excited. This... this could be the start of something amazing.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, gaze trained firmly on your face. “No. Wait, yes. Uh, whatever it is you just said- whichever one means I agree.”

You turned to look at him, smile becoming a little softer, and you held your hand out for him. “Come on, then. We have lots of work to do.”

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[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / OCTOBER 5, 2019 // return of josh

oooookay folks! that's a wrap! below are my comments about tonight's ep + additional expansions on previously stated opinions. i'm not combining s2 ep 1 with this bc s2 is dead to me! so is s3! i only did this to gather up all these loose thoughts i had when this show with its one lonely season became such a comfort to me that i developed a second consciousness about it. but with these posts i am done! the evil is defeated! i will carry on through the 3rd and hopefully final season of nancy drew with less emotion and better spirits. thank god.

-"talk to owen" nancy firstly thinks of talking to owen only to see what happens w the agleaca; saying goodbye comes as sorta an afterthought mirroring tiffany's possession of george. yet nancy was unable to say goodbe to owen just like w kate. knowing this reveal about kate, i wonder if this was foreshadowing that something big will be revealed about him later? unlikely but still

-nancy + the reality of broken things: 'totems' like broken sand glass sculpture (good place) to show you it's not a dream; "owen broke that" ghost trap to ground him to reality, like how she reached for her locket in the good place, lucy's charm, ace's bear ('totems' idea borrowed from inception)

-george has never been an affectionate person, even with other women- so why does pda with nick suddenly become so important?

-lots of comments about ryan + women but what about carson/kate and karen? again with the hypocritical (interestingly, there is an aspect of violence to women connected with ryan (even though that violence is not his fault); but its not like kate or karen fared well either)

-ryan feels useless- relationships with women as stated by nancy- he seeks to redeem himself by showing up where nancy goes to prove he is good to have around/necessary/needed - but now that he is attempting to act as a parent he has to break through nancy's defenses all over again- firstly she didnt really consider him any kind of threat bc he comes off as incompetent- ie bad business deals- i think i mentioned last ep, their hauntings equalize them as they both attempt to gain peace by searching for answers but now ryan has changed the terms of engagement so he's back to square one, with carson. (which is how we find them s2 cowering in ryans car stalking nancy together)

-ryan's relationship to nancy exposes an interesting layer here. so far she doesnt know about nick/george but they still hold the cards (ie george gets one over on nick's ex/"the new girl") with the revelation of ryan being nancys father, nancy gains an interesting trump card in navigating the social fallout of being nick's ex. like george would take the new spot but then nancy comes out with george's ex in a much higher category. this plays out later on in the ep when george confronts ryan. george wants to talk about "them" but ryan shows up completely focused on nancy, thus illustrating the trump

-"i thought it was whitney with another insipid question" to me this sounds like whitney took bess's advice earlier about "asking aunt diana what she wants" (only to learn it actually annoyed the hell out of diana lmaoo)

-"then you need to fight for it" this hearkens nancy earlier by asking "arent you in by virtue of dna?" the test was positive; she is a marvin just like nancy is a hudson. thats not a fact that they can change. however, diana really acts like it can be changed- and in s2 we see it does change. its interesting for bess to be told to fight to be in a family she's already in and also foiled by nancy trying to fight her way out of her own family. would like to see bess stand up to diana and say something. i mean, she exists. as much as she may want to erase bess from the family, diana cannot erase her existence

-hannah's rolled up sleeves 💙

-"previous keepers records" -from s2- were those not her parents??

-mistaken murderers- everyone incorrectly assumes lucy was murdered just as they assume the agleaca killed owen

-even if owen weren't the price, how can they pay the toll without one of the people who called? i mean if it was anything other than owen and he still died they still wouldve been fucked

-"you don't need to check, i'm not even driving!" okay and giving up the goss. cassidy is me. lmfaoooo

-wonder if this locked marvin industries box will ever come back

-UNPOPULAR OPINION: george's confrontation with ryan comes waytoo late to do anything. i think i brought this up in an earlier post. its literally just her screaming at him now. like he is clocked out moved on. you know a good time for this scene? in the claw when he comes by to "check on her". hes vulnerable, fresh from rehab. and she has a chit over him for punching bookcases/the fuckin country club deal. therewould have been a perfect time to confront ryan on what happened- "what you did to me" okay sis. you admitted ep 1 you werent in hs anymore. youre of age now. admit you fucked up. take the L to force him to swallow the bigger L. and imagine how much more powerful the scene would have been- in george's domain, literally her own office, something ryan doesnt even have because HE DOESNT DO SHIT. ryan is SO EASY to trap but nobody notices. instead they have george try to get some kind of apology out of him when hes already done with that, and only for the sake of her establishing a new relaionship to boot. imagine how much more empowered she would feel if she just got that closure for herself- because she needed it, not so she could trot straight back to nick being all proud of calling a grown man to some random estate only to scream at him in a parking lot and have accomplished nothing. 🤦🏼‍♀️

-i get patrice thinking nancy is lucy but yeahhhhh this isnt how dementia works 😬

-i almost cant with nance and josh. how do you save your would-be murderer? (+ lucy's best friend and brother are in jail, her mom is lost to her mentally; all she has left is nancy and ryan)

-tbh i had no idea how to spell agleaca until bess said "theres no i in agleaca!" i thought it was igleaka like 😂

-damn how george just stares at nicks hand and then gets out herself is just so sad (like she immediately rectifies it but still...)

-"curiosity" part II; nancy who comes back to the sea after her mother died in it- agleaca drawn to lucy's trauma/to agleaca, lucy died fir "love"- would nancy be willing to risk the same? // this is also one of nancy's "mirroring mom" moments: winning sea queen, going to the velvet masque, getting caught by celia, having a "chat" with everett, and "falling" off the bluffs

-the collector 🎵👌🏻

-i wonder if there's any significance to the locations/means of their deaths; nancy's is pretty straight forward in terms of where and how, but why george and nick drowning, in the truck specifically? drowning in love? idk. ace's at the claw i get, but he gets himself caught? in what precisely? what does the fish hook mean? and bess's makes the least sense- burning alive? in the marvin estate? maybe the agleaca picked the most painful death for the marvin blood relation? idk. up for debate lmk ya thoughts

and lastly:

-i remember seeing this ending for the first time and i had just been traumatized by avengers endgame and since black widow is also a redhead seeing that shit at the bottom of the cliff it was like 😰😰😰 TOO SOON

-random thoughts-

these are just things i noticed, feel free to grapple with them or take note of them for extrapolation in s3 (lord knows i wont be) they probably belonged in recaps for previous eps but i either didnt find them in my notebook or couldnt fit them in

•nancy and truth/the perception of truth: using facts to suit theories instead of creating theories to suit facts- nancy often plays with the perception of truth and the details that fall between the steps; but she is also a victim to them by people who also know how to play the game (ie Carson) ex lying about the dress (tea cups and knives, trash got picked up, bail paid 1 hr ago) her inferences can be off from what others tell her ("people always lie") but she can also come to the wrong conclusions organically (carsons trial) more willing to believe the best in others/wanting them to be innocent (think nick ep 1) but later finding out the truths hurts more so she chooses to isolate herself and avoid involving others to be spared pain

•maybe i'm dumb, but who is "mr marvin" exactly? owen? the bald guy from the funeral? this comes from the guy who takes sailboats out like ep 4ish and says "ive worked for the marvins 20 years" she compliments the ship, he says "mr marvin and i just took her out this morning" so?? who is that? plus last ep just saying cassidy and isaac are her "late husbands children" dows thet mean sebastian? like did diana marry in? i feel like it would be odd for her to so embrace the "marvin way" if she wasnt a true born marvin

•ik college becomes a more s2 topic but none of the crew have ever been to college 🤔

•nick + the relationships with people whose reputations are tarnished: tiffany with investigating the hudsons/marvins, josh with murder/attempted murder, kate and 'stealing'/lying about nancy (esp compared to her almost preternatural kindness i mentioned before), george and her mom/family's reputations --> this kind of segues into nick + the concept of believing people you love could be capable of horrific things- accidental or on purpose (see- having to tell his family what happened)

•at the beginning, nancy kind of seems to be the "i'm sorry you're upset" kind of apologist and knows it. she also doesnt usually apologize earnestly bc shes never really sorry (she always has to get what she needs first ie coins mess) and she doesnt want to lie; to me it seems she doesnt like to bother with other people bc they require certain cues/niceties that are often lies- they ask "how are you" without meaning it, they dont really want an honest response except "fine", they dont like it when you call them out on fakeness, etc/ they require apologies for their bruised feelings even if youre right (and nancy can be pretty rude/nasty if provoked- a harshness unsoftened by sympathy)

•cont'd from the good place ep- since kate apparently means nothing to nancy anymore according to last ep ("stop calling her my mother") is her policy of "always seek the truth" now null and void? this mantra is now tainted bc the person who gave it to her broke it so much. can nancy disengage w it now? does she fall from grace to be complicit in "mysteries" of her own like everyone else? does she lose some of her "god-like" holier than thou act bc she is now literally born and raised in the "darkness" of sins/ugly truths like everyone else's? (ie truth is ugly but not to nancy, until now)

•did lucy disappear because her "murder" was finally solved? or simply because her trauma was addressed- she never meant to tell anyone about her suicide plans, the twisted trauma of which was too great to contain/unable to move on due to "sin" - or unable to move on because secret of nancy's parentage still remained? "lucy never wanted me to figure out how she died" she only wanted nancy to figure out her parentage without solving the mystery, yet did lucy see/witness nancy's revelation at the claw, or with carson, or even ryan? waiting for karen/josh to know? or just vanished?

•concept of imperfect mom figures- lucy, kate, celia, victoria, even karen- who all struggle with failings

•since karen dispelled one of lucy's attempts at nancy's haunting at the garden party, is that proof she isn't haunting karen?

•the crew + needing adult help: george's possession and victoria, club busted and owen, car accident and mcginnis, thom and cipher, larkspur lane and sal, bones and john, agleaca and hannah

•everett is always sitting- at his home office, at dinner, at yacht club (wonder if that was his actor + had to do with his recasting?)

-dad talk-

•both her dads think negatively on her "girl detective" thing but ryan sees use in it as a means to get answers, carson would never 'use' her in that way

•nancy + carson : suffering

"what about what i wanted?" + carson being imprisoned for weeks but she immediately rejects him (the DAY he gets his freedom no less) with no regard to his suffering (caused by herdiary!!) in regards to her own from this new knowledge (she does suffer a lot- "almost dying is my new normal" but still)/ the "thankless job" of parenting

•nancy + adults - connected to cop thing a few posts earlier : nancy is v precocious and smart for her age- she is "old enough" but also has trouble with the "adults" in her life- fathers, moms, karen, and cops letting her down but depends heavily on "adults" she cantrust- hannah gruen, john sander, lisbeth- highlighting her youth and occasional naiveté; nancy is unafraid to hold adults accountable for their actions (ie karen) but also loses them as allies along the way. both hannah and john are very nonthreatening and also experts in their fields, while her fathers and karen are revealed to be "just another brick in the wall" average, capable of mistakes, and not the people she expects them to be, while characters like john and hannah can only benefit nancy because either they do not mean as much to her or have no reason/nothing to gain by lying; they are purposefully shown to be small, demure, gentle, and nonthreatening as foils/opposed to karen, ryan, and josh whom she previously trusted; carson (+kate) is nonviolent as well but has the biggest betrayal which is perceived as an act of violence to her very personhood/shattering who she thought she was so she cannot be that anymore (admits truths to john "everytime i dig i hurt everyone" and hannah-agleaca) : unclear if redemption is possible for anyone :

•nancy bonds with carson over loss and then ryan over haunting. but actually, nancy rejects carson over loss bc she wanted to say goodbye and wasnt allowed to- so carson was with kate but nancy was not. nancy and ryan are more equals about haunting bc they both start around the same time and conclude together as well [nancy and ryan bond over thinking their parents conspired to kill lucy- think sitting on the floor at velvet masque] nancy is appreciated by ryan for her ability to get answers- he has no qualms about going through her/outside of police bc he wants results/instant gratification and thinks nancy is more so the expert in her field/respects her even through her age- once again acknowledging she is braver than he is (think lucy + claw parking lot) and her portent in the car freaks him out bc shes usually always in control, esp with him

•bc nancy was told "you can't be afraid of the truth" until she was / ironic bc shes braver than him except when the truth is they are related then she's scared to tell him while he actually starts to take some initiative

•nancy picked "the wrong person" to help her through her grief in her dad's eyes like her mom's best friend was somehow a better choice? carson truly "parents" nancy even during grief and haunting (which she rejects) whereas nancy and ryan are really equals in all their situations which is actually better for her and easier for her to maintain- nancy's expectations are low so anything that ryan gives is a bonus. nancy's expectations of carson were shattered by his lies so now she has nothing to connect with him about- they could barely even connect when sharing the same grief- carson actually very hypocritical hence nancy's upset at karen revelation yet carson doesn't agree bc hes the "adult" and shes the "child" not realizing she hadnt been one for a long time (hidden staircase perhaps?) whereas ryan better treats her with lack of controlling parental nature bc he is impressed with her competence before he receives that knowledge; "lucy was smarter than me too" acknowledging her intellect negates his ability to "parent" ie control her to leave him solely with caring about her wellbeing in her situations + aftermath - i honestly dont think carson would ever admit that shes smarter than him* bc he thinks shes not "all grown up" yet ("youve kept me on the bench for years"); ryan is more willing to meet her where she's at which is so important for all her good relationships - ace, owen, etc

*carson asks for nancy to figure out "who to trust" in ep 12, finally admitting that she is useful/ie acknowledging that her skills/abilities do help, are necessary, and can in fact save lives --> this is then s2 follow up by working for him (but it takes him that long)

•ryan/nancy/carson venn diagram - using sex to escape trauma

•if not carson vs ryan then what about celia and everett vs patrice (and josh)? at this point in the narrative, do you think ryan's parents would take his side should the knowledge become public (without their involvement), or deny nancy?

•"we were a family" + the disruption of family dinner- kate was really the one holding that family together and her death makes it unsustainable

okay!! that's all folks! i have exhausted my plethora of nancy drew thoughts + knowledge. you will never have to hear from me again!! TYSSM 😘

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

Come in From the Cold

Surprise, @natascha-remi-ronin​! I’m your Captain Swan Secret Santa!

I hope you enjoy this fic I wrote you :)

Special thanks to @cssecretsanta for organizing this whole event!

AO3

“You know, you’re supposed to use a piece of last year’s yule log to light this year’s. It protects the house from evil spirits.”

Emma nearly smacked her head on the top of the fireplace as she turned around.

“It’s not a yule log, it’s just a regular log in a regular fire,” she rolled her eyes.

“Semantics.”

She playfully shoved Killian out of her way as she stood.

“Well, I didn’t save any firewood from the Christmas party last year, so we’ll have to make do. I suppose I should beware of black cats crossing my path today, too?”

“I mean, you should always beware of black cats walking directly in your path, Duckling.”

Emma was well aware of Killian’s tendency towards superstitions. He didn’t leave his house on Friday the 13th, he didn’t walk under ladders, and he always did that weird thing with salt whenever it spilled. He was one of David’s quirkier friends, but she loved him all the same.

He, of course, didn’t know just how much she loved him. Or rather, in what way.

Killian still thought of her as his best friend’s little sister. He ruffled her hair, teased her relentlessly, and still occasionally called her ‘Duckling’, an unfortunate nickname that had followed her since her obsession with The Ugly Duckling as an eight-year-old. When the neighborhood kids had started using it against her, David and Killian had stepped in and made it a friendly nickname, one she secretly loved hearing. Even now, as an adult.

“Are you coming caroling with us, Duckling?” Killian followed Emma into the kitchen.

“You’re going to drag me along either way, I don’t know why you bother asking.”

“Someday you’ll agree to go willingly, and I won’t have to hold your hand the whole way.”

Not a chance, Emma thought to herself as she blushed just a bit.

“I saved you some cookie batter. Go shove a spoon in your face so you don’t have to bother me anymore,” Emma scolded him gently.

“You really should have led with cookie batter,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to find a spoon.

“This is gonna be the year. I can feel it.” Mary Margaret appeared at Emma’s side, whispering.

“You say that every year.”

“And every year, you find a reason to leave early, and every year, Killian is disappointed for the entire evening afterwards. This year, stick around. Please?”

“I think you’re exaggerating Killian’s level of disappointment when it comes to my presence, or lack thereof.”

Mary Margaret simply hummed in response.

There was a clatter behind them as Killian tossed the bowl and the spoon into the sink.

“I’ve finished the chocolate chip.”

“That’s David’s favorite!” Emma swatted his arm.

“I know,” and there was that grin. The one that made Emma’s insides do somersaults and her legs go all gooey. Emma was not a gooey, lovey-dovey person. But Killian Jones did something to her – had done for half her life. He brought out a side of her that thought maybe, just maybe, sometimes life did bring you happy endings and romance and fairy tales.

Of course, all of that would only be true if he’d stop looking at her as the same kid she’d been when they’d met, so long ago she couldn’t even remember. Killian had been a staple in her life in her earliest memories, ones of David showing her around the elementary school, showing her how to get from her kindergarten classroom to his third grade one. And while David had held her right hand, Killian had held her left.

The Nolans had adopted her when she was in the middle of kindergarten. And though things at home were comfortable, and she rarely wanted for anything, the kids at school were cruel. Where Ruth, Robert, and David provided Emma with a home, hugs, praise, and love, her classmates reminded her daily that someone hadn’t wanted her.

“Where are your real parents, Ugly Duckling?”

“Why don’t you go back to your real family?”

And every time Emma left her lunch period crying – from age five and up until high school – she went and found David and Killian, and one of them held her and protected her, while the other went and told those bullies exactly who they were messing with.

It was right after high school when Killian started to look less like a bonus sibling and more like…well, a real human adult man. He’d taken to the sea, to rowing and sailing and surfing and nearly anything else you could possibly do on the water. The rowing especially had done…something to his physique that Emma particularly appreciated.

After his older brother died – killed in action while serving in the Navy – Killian grew out his hair and stopped shaving regularly. That was also when the superstitions began, after Liam’s unit had left port on February 2nd, despite the superstitions against leaving for any voyage on Candlemas. He disappeared for months at a time, at first, but he always came home in time for Christmas.

Ten years later, he always made sure to be the first one through the door for Christmas dinner, whether he’d been away for months or he’d just seen them all the day before.

“It’s a blessing for the home if the first person who visits during Christmas is a black haired man,” he’d wink when Emma answered the door in her pajamas, barely awake and hair askew.

“No one else will be here for at least four hours, Killian. Can’t you be the first person to visit…later?”

“Can’t take that chance, Duckling. With Ruth and Robert gone, I’ve got to make sure this house stays blessed for you, don’t I?”

And then he’d make her hot chocolate and put on Christmas movies. And Emma knew, somewhere deep down, that he also wanted to make sure that she didn’t spend one second of Christmas alone. And that he didn’t particularly want to spend any of it alone either.

Eventually, David and Mary Margaret and Regina and Robin would show up, and sometimes Ruby came and she always had a different date on her arm than she had the year before. And they always teased Emma and Killian about what the could have possibly done alone together for four entire hours when the house was still such a mess and none of the food was cooked. And Killian would roll his eyes and Emma would blush because she, of course, was dying to do some of the things that they were insinuating that she was doing with Killian Jones.

But that was a part of the tradition and Emma looked forward to it every single year.

After dinner, Killian waited until everyone had had just the right amount of liquor – enough to feel silly, not enough to feel tired – and then he’d yell out about how it was time to go caroling.

And since Emma lived in the same house she’d grown up in, David wanting to build his own castle for himself and Mary Margaret when Ruth and Robert had passed away, they caroled at the same houses that they’d been caroling and trick-or-treating at since they were small enough to believe in Santa Claus.

And this year was no different. Emma had just brought out the second batch of cookies – snickerdoodle – when Killian decided it was time.

“What’s the lineup, Jones?” Regina asked, just the tiniest bit of a slur to her voice.

“Jingle Bells, Rudolph, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas…” Killian began counting on his fingers.

“We’re saving that one for Ruby’s grandmother, right? It’s her favorite.” Emma pointed out.

“Yes, Duckling, I’m well aware of my audience, thank you.”

Emma stuck out her tongue.

Thirty minutes later, they were all bundled up, a few more shots of rum were gone, and they were ready to sing to the whole street.

Emma complained about the cold and the songs and the cheesiness of it all, and Killian grabbed her hand, hooked it through his elbow, and dragged her along anyway.

When they reached Marco’s house, singing O Holy Night, Emma noticed a small bit of mistletoe hanging on the porch. It was really more above David and Mary Margaret, but if Emma stretched just a bit to the right, it’d be above her shoulder, sort of, and she was already hooked to Killian’s arm, so…

“Oh look, David, mistletoe!”

Mary Margaret had seen it first, was already kissing David before Emma could step under it and act as though she hadn’t seen it before. She knew Killian would kiss her, and she knew it was probably ridiculous and childish to want that, but he was so superstitious and you kind of had to kiss under the mistletoe for luck or something, right?

They moved onto the next house.

It was nearly 10PM when they got to the Rabbit Hole. They ended their caroling session there every year, and Emma never lasted more than twenty minutes. The warmth of the rum was gone, but it had left its weariness behind. There was a chill straight through to her bones from being outside for so long. She just wanted the warmth of her own bed.

“Stay, Emma. Please.” Mary Margaret begged her. And Emma wanted to give in, but she couldn’t give herself some sort of false hope that Killian would do something differently if she were there, couldn’t set herself up for that disappointment.

Instead, Emma said her goodbyes, saving Killian for last.

“I wish you’d stay for once, Duckling.” His eyes looked sad. Maybe Mary Margaret hadn’t been totally off base.

“I’m tired, Killian.”

“One more round?”

He looked at her with his patented puppy dog eyes, biting his lip, one eyebrow raised.

How the hell was she supposed to say no?

“One.” She said firmly.

His face broke out in a grin, and Mary Margaret laughed, covering it with a cough.

One more round of drinks turned into two, and then three, and before Emma knew it, she was out until 2AM on a night she’d planned to be in bed by 11. The bar closed down and they all waited together for cabs and Ubers, huddled together for warmth.

“Should we share a cab?” Killian asked her. He lived two streets away from her, an easy distance for either of them to walk if the driver only wanted to stop once.

“Sure,” and Emma would lie later and say her face was red from the rum and the cold, and not at all from the excitement of sharing a backseat with someone she’d known her entire life.

Christmas was bringing out her embarrassingly romantic side.

She nearly fell asleep on his shoulder in the backseat of the cab, and he sat silently, the quietest she’d ever known him to be.

“You up, Duckling? We’re home,” he whispered in her ear.

He coaxed her out of the car gently, letting her lean on him as they walked up the driveway. He walked her to the door, pausing as if he had some important message to deliver. The look in his eyes – all nerves and a bit of liquid courage – woke her up as she scrambled to find her keys.

“I hung some decorations out here this morning before I knocked,” he said.

“Decorations?” she mumbled, desperately digging through her purse for those damn keys, her fingers already growing numb from the cold.

“Well, one. A singular decoration.”

“What are you talking about, Killian?” She couldn’t hide the frustration in her voice, still struggling to rummage through her mess of a bag.

“Dammit, Emma, just look up!”

She’d found her keys as he yelled, but she dropped them to the ground when she looked up and found mistletoe hanging from her porchlight.

She opened her mouth to question…something, to ask what he was doing hanging mistletoe on her porch, but before she could get the question out, he was kissing her.

It was everything she’d imagined it would be, except they were drunk and their teeth were clicking together and their lips were cold and her fingers were numb so she couldn’t grab his hair the way she wanted to.

“It’s bad luck not to do that,” he said against her neck.

“Is that why you hung it there in the first place?” And there was a tiny voice in Emma’s head that wanted to question all of this, couldn’t understand why Killian Jones was suddenly kissing her on her front porch after Christmas dinner. But the larger part of her brain smacked that tiny part down and kissed him again.

“I had to find some way to kiss you, didn’t I?” He grinned against her mouth.

“Do you wanna come inside and…finish off the snickerdoodles?”

Killian reached up and grabbed the mistletoe before following her inside. She eyed him questioningly.

“Just in case I need to kiss you again.”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Malcolm is a bastard and all but hr still treats me like his kid sister

So sometimes when we would be working i would get hit in the chest like because i have a very generous, vulnerable, valuable and damaged heart... And it would feel like a heart attack was coming

And I would tell him "Jesse you are a very bad man" and he would say "who? Where?" And i would say "were you going to eat lunch in the NW corner today? Because there is a very good person sitting there and you're not allowed. Mean ass mother fucker and in fact you dont get lunch! There how's that?!"

So I would tell him NW from us was a person and they were smoking or chewing gum or tobacco or talking a lot or singing ... Usually a combo of using his hands and mouth. And i would say what he was eating... If was wearing a green shirt it was an avocado because bananas were both yellow and green and black and apples are red, green. Yellow and bruised. Yellow was lemons and ice tea. Blue was ice. Once there was one with a pale blue like coast guard dress shirt and then he had a real raspy voice. So i said "hey bad man you having a lunch of raspberries near the parking lot just standing around like you usually do?"

Then because we were working for months in the same location, the next day he would eat lunch how i had described.

Mine was for my health or i would end up in the hospital and it would be big drama.

But if y'all need some kind of code... Here's a helpful system.

I had panicked the first time and it all came out in a flow and not in correct words but it worked So we developed it from there.

The very first time i had asked Jesse his opinion and I panicked and had a minor heart attack So Jesse said we had to take command of my feelings and emotions to take my power back.

And so taking away from him.. That worked. And I didn't do the correct directions, I used the Brooklyn bridge as North which was South on a real map so and i did West totally wrong but i was saying that he had a gun like in Wild West.

He had been sitting behind me under a tree and caught me off guard. Idk about you but i don't want no dude sitting and all relaxing behind me with a gun so he's completely chill when he decides to shoot us all. Me first. So Jesse ran over and attacked him, rolled him into the street and pulled his own gun on him that he has pulled out when he tackled him. Years of football had paid off for me.

The raspberries guy he had been there just the day before asking me about my parents an all this and that and so i told,him,my dad was in the military. About my dad. And asked him,why and he was all no reason and then he was all "dont they wear... Like the marines but totally different?"

"At times"

"Idk i can get all that but we will see" idk why he said that out loud

Nd I said "excuse me?"

"Oh I was sent here to protect you. I'll be back tomorrow oh about noon. If someone comes at 3. Don't trust them"

He came at 3. Like a fool

"Sorry I'm late. They had this whole intersection blocked off and wouldn't let anyone out of their cars. They blocked me in. Weird huh. They gave me $50 tho. Anyway we are here. Where should we stand"

"Over there somewhere. Idk. Sure thing I'll be back. Here watch this"

"Oh okay ill go over there then"

"No the table"

"Oh it will be fine"

So he was an imposter had haggled me for answers the day before that he should had known had he been hired by someone that knew me. I had talked to Steve finally that morning, i wouldn't go downstairs until i did. And he said "don't believe him. I'll see what i can do. No one is supposed to ask you anything in fact they're supposed to be invisible. It's the CIA, you recall? Its just Like the FBI but more dangerous yo bad people. You'll be alright. I'll put in a call. You stay put. I'll call right back"

And so they made it so he came at 3.

So Jesse told them we had our own security

He lied and said i hired him

Which i did no such thing

So i grabbed the nail gun off the counter being made and stood my ground, legs spread, the red laser on his mid chest.

"Oh that's not going to do anything! The nail is just gonna fall"

I saw the burgundy Mazda he arrived in. So i flattened his right back tire. And looked at him

"My car!!! Well now how am i gonna leave little missy?"

"Like fast!!" And i shot at his back window until it shattered "1. Two. 3. Four. That do you? You were told. And you need to leave you told me yourself anyone coming at 3 is evil! Now go!" Man they were stupid. I shot them in the foot. Leg and multiple times in the ass cheeks while they ran and the raspy voice in the neck. He later died of his injuries.

I shot his trunk up so much it broke the latch and another guy down the end of the block jumped in and pulled it lower.

The cops came the next day to question me.

I said "idk -- it was the nail gun. I sorta blacked out so I don't recall everything exactly"

So while he was examining it Jesse unplugged it. Amd walked over and spoke quietly to him

"Why didn't you just tell him the truth?"

'I did"

....

The fat raspy guy died because i aimed for his bald spot with the laser Jesse told me Because i was laughing and told him "watch this" after I popped open the trunk

So they got in the car and the alarm was blaring and most everyone had hit the deck when i started shooting because the alarm went off at the tire and the guy kept turning it off with his key charm and Jesse yelled "you're all in danger. Hit the deck! Get down!"

So in the car the guy reached back and pulled that nail out the back of his head and blood sprayed out and all over the car like a water fall and was dripping off the back window edge. "Now how's that for Jesus?" I had said, blew the tip of the nail gun off. Yelled "okay everyone back to work!" And sat down at my post like there wasn't some dude crawling out the trunk trying to move the fatish man so they could take off.

Jesse brought me the nail gun for safe keeping and necessary use. "But don't they need it?"

"Look ain't no one gonna be working at least not yet. Go on go look what's going on in the street that littl3 dude in the right uniform is all covered in,blood"

"Oh yeah he ain't been shot yet." Jesse started to laugh. I went to the sidewalk and yelled "I SAID MOVE!"

And he said "can't you see im trying?!!?" So i shot him in the right knee cap. Without turning on the laser.

"Don't talk back! I ain't the child here." I turned my head and shoulders but not the gun towards my workers "and i told all of you to get back to work!!"

They all in chorus said "no!" And ducked. And I laughed

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding! The safety is on!"

A little 3 year old girl picked up a cordless drill near her and her older brother took off running after yelling a loud "NO!" And he took it from her and she said all cute and quiet "why not? I want to kill!"

"Not trying to be a spoil sport but I'm taking her inside!"

She was so dam cute too she wasn't taller than th3 cabinet and all I saw was the drill coming off the top of it. She was mighty strong to keep hold of it.

Little Gremlin Child i called her after. I could see her pig tails after it was down but i thought an adult next to her had grabbed it. Not that she was standing there as an Army of One.

She told me later "i was an Army of Two. I was right there with you. I knew what to do. Shoot. Pew. Pew. Pew."

...

......

....

Unfortunately our beauty was killed about 10 years later in a drive by, protecting the neighborhood children, using her body to shield them while visiting a friend out in Compton, California, USA.

God Bless her and let's take a moment for her.

Laquisha Antuana Jefferson.

My only partner in an Army of Two.

And his family should know he's dying in,the next 30 minutres. It's 7:05 pm in Compton.

I hope all his dreams and wishes go unanswered and he goes straight to hell and it hurts him. There will be no funeral. We will destroy his body ourselves. He doesn't deserve a funeral.

He's a "perfect citizen" he's a cop. He joined after killing my baby. And not to make the streets safer.

All lives matter. Remember that.

[thekillerblogofkillers]

Dean Corll (1939-1973) PART ONE

Dean Corll was an American serial killer who abducted, raped, tortured and murdered at least 28 boys with his two teenage accomplices, Elmer Wayne Henley, Jr., and David Brooks between 1970-1973 in Houston, Texas (the crimes were known as the Houston Mass Murders).

Dean Arnold Corll was born December 24, 1939 in Indiana. His mother was Mary Robinson, who was protective of him, and his father was Arnold Corll, who was very strict with him. The couple argued frequently and divorced in 1946, Mary leaving the family home and moving with her children to a trailer in Memphis, Tennessee so they could be near their father who had drafted into the U.S. Air Force. Corll was known as a shy child with few friends, but was always concerned with the well-being of his peers. When he was 7, Corll suffered from an undiagnosed case of rheumatic fever which was only discovered after he was diagnosed with a heart murmur at age 11.

Mary Robinson and Arnold Corll gave their marriage a second chance and remarried in 1950, moving to Pasadena, Texas, but the good times didn’t last and the couple re-divorced 3 years later. This time the divorce was amicable and both children kept in regular contact with Arnold. Following this divorce, Mary Robinson married a travelling salesman named Jake West and shortly after, Corll’s half-sister Joyce was born. Corll’s mother and stepfather soon opened a small candy company called ‘Pecan Prince’, operating from the garage of their home. Corll worked there day and night, while still going to school. Corll and his younger brother Stanley were tasked with running the candy making machines and packing the product, with their stepfather selling it door-to-door.

Whilst in high school, Corll was seen as a well-behaved student with decent grades, but he was still quite a loner, despite having dated several girls in his teenage years. His major interest in high school was the brass band (Corll played trombone).

After graduating high school in summer 1958, Corll moved with his family to the outskirts of Houston to increase sales of their candy products. The family opened a new shop, called ‘Pecan Prince’ after the brand name of their product. In 1960 Corll moved to Indiana to live with his recently widowed grandmother. Whilst there he fell in love with a local girl, but rejected her marriage proposal in 1962. After two years Corll moved back to Houston to help with the family business, now in Houston Heights, where he moved into an apartment above the shop.

In 1964 Corll was drafted into the Army and assigned to Fort Polk, Louisiana for basic training, later moving to Fort Benning, Georgia to train with radio repair before being permanently assigned to Fort Hood, Texas. His time in the military was unblemished, although Corll admitted to hating his service, and applied for a hardship discharge on the grounds that his family needed his help with the business. This request was granted and he was honourably discharged 10 months after being drafted. After his discharge, Corll told some friends that it was whilst in the Army that he realised he was gay, and had had his first homosexual experiences. Other friends noticed that Corll’s mannerisms had changed when around young males since joining the Army, leading them to believe he had homosexual tendencies.

Upon returning to Houston in 1965 he became vice-president of Corll Candy Company, which was now a rival company to his ex-stepfather’s following a divorce in 1963. Competition was fierce, and Corll devoted many hours to the company due to increasing demand. In 1965, the company relocated to 22nd Street, straight across the street from an elementary school.  Corll was often seen giving candy to the schoolchildren, earning himself the nicknames “Candy Man” and “Pied Piper”. The company had a small workforce, largely made up of teenage boys Corll had hired, and who he was seen extensively flirting with by customers and other workers.

In 1967 Corll met and befriended 12-year-old David Owen Brooks, a small 6th grader with glasses whom Corll was known to give free candy to. Brooks became just one of many of Corll’s young companions and he joined Corll on many trips to south Texas’ beaches with other young employees. Brooks later said that Dean Corll was the first adult male that had never mocked his appearance, and he always gave him cash when he needed it. Brooks came to see Corll as a father figure – Corll did not feel that way, and gradually a sexual relationship developed. Beginning in 1969, Corll paid Brooks with cash and gifts to allow him to have oral sex with the young boy. Brooks’ came from a broken home and rarely saw his mother. He dropped out of school at age 15 and moved to Beaumont to live with his mother. Whenever he came back to Houston to see his father, he also spent time with Corll, sometimes staying over at his apartment. Later the same year, Brooks moved back to Houston and began to treat Corll’s apartment as his second home. During all of this, Corll’s mother and younger sister, Joyce, had moved to Colorado after her failed 3rd marriage and her failed candy company. Dean and his mother often talked on the phone, but from June 1968 until the day he died, they never saw each other again. Since there was no longer a family company to run, Corll got a job as an electrician and kept this job until the day he died.

Between 1970 and 1973 Corll killed at least 28 males between the ages of 13 and 20, most of whom were in their mid-teens, most were abducted from Houston Heights and most of these murders were done with the help of either Elmer Wayne Henley, or David Owen Brooks, or both. Some of the victims were even friends of one of the three, other were people whom Corll had befriended solely for the purposes of abduction and murder. Two victims, Billy Baulch and Gregory Malley Winkle, were former employees at Corll Candy Company. The victims were usually lured into a vehicle with an offer of a party or a ride, and driven to his house. Once there, they were plied with alcohol or drugs until they passed out, tricked into wearing handcuffs, or grabbed by force. Then, they were stripped naked, tied to a plywood torture board or Corll’s bed, and sexually assaulted, beaten, tortured, sometimes enduring this for days before being strangled or shot. The bodies were tied up in plastic sheets and buried in either a rented boat shed, a beach on the Bolivar Peninsula, a woodland near Lake Sam Rayburn, or a beach in Jefferson County. In some cases, Corll would force his victims to phone or write to their parents with explanations for their disappearance to quell their concerns and prevent them being reported as missing. Corll also kept many keepsakes from his murder victims.

Corll’s first-known victim, 18-year-old Jeffrey Konen vanished while hitchhiking with another student from his class to his parents’ home in Houston on September 25, 1970. He was dropped off on his own not far from Corll’s apartment. It is likely Corll saw him there and offered to drive him to his parents’ home. On August 10, 1973 David Brooks led police to Konen’s body, buried at High Island beach. Forensic scientists concluded that the young man had died of asphyxiation caused by manual strangulation and a gag being placed in his mouth. The body was buried under a large boulder, covered with lime, wrapped in plastic, naked and bound. This also suggested rape.

Around the time of Konen’s murder, Brooks walked in on Corll in the midst of assaulting two boys that were strapped to a plywood torture board. Corll promised Brooks a car for his silence, and Brooks agreed. Corll bought him a green Chevrolet Corvette, and was later told the two youths had been killed, and Brooks was offered $200 for any boy he could bring to Corll.

In December 1970 David Brooks lured two 14-year-old boys, James Glass and Danny Yates, away from a religious rally they were attending and brought them to Corll’s apartment. Glass was a friend of Brooks who had been to Dean Corll’s apartment before. Both boys were tied to Corll’s torture board and were raped, strangled and buried in a boat shed Corll had rented.

Six weeks later, Brooks and Corll encountered two brothers named Donald and Jerry Waldrop walking home. Both boys were lured into Corll’s van and driven to an apartment he had rented where they were raped, tortured, strangled and buried in the boat shed. Between March and May of 1971 Corll abducted and murdered three other boys, all of them living in Houston heights and all of them buried at the back of the boat shed. Brooks is known to have participated in all of these murders. One of the victims, 15-year-old Randell Harvey, was last seen by his mother and father on the afternoon of March 9 whilst cycling towards Oak Forest, where he worked as a gas-station attendant. Harvey was driven to Corll’s rented apartment and was killed by a single bullet to the head. The other two victims, 13-year-old David Hilligiest and 16-year-old Gregory Malley Winkle were abducted and killed together in May 1971. Both sets of parents searched for their sons and one of the “helpful” kids handing out flyers to help find them was 15-year-old Elmer Wayne Henley – a longtime friend of Hilligiest. Henley pinned the posters around the Heights and comforted Hilligiest’s parents that the boys were probably fine.

On August 17, 1971, Corll and Brooks met 17-year-old Ruben Watson Haney, a friend of Brooks, walking home from a movie theatre. Brooks persuaded Haney to come to a party at Corll’s new address; he agreed and was taken there to be strangled and buried in the boat shed. 1 month later, Corll moved to yet another apartment, where Brooks stated he had helped Corll with two more abduction/murders, including one who was killed “just before Wayne Henley came into the picture.” In his later confession, Brooks said the boy that died just prior to Henley getting involved in the murders was abducted from Houston Heights and kept alive for four days before being murdered. To this day, nobody knows who either of these victims were.