#Meanwhile he is cursed with immortality and he fucking hates it

[kennys-parka-jacket]

I have an entire theory about how Vampir met Karen based on everything we've been told about Vampir. I'm not too sure how familiar you are with from Dusk Till Casa Bonita but basically Karen got invited to Vampir's birthday party and Kenny decided to take that personally and teamed up with Cartman and Henrietta to beat up the vamp kids. Karen was perfectly fine I think Kenny was overreacting.

Yeah he totally was. It was the older sibling in him shining through, trying to keep his little sister from her interests just because he thinks they're lame. Kinda douchey of him, but it's accurate to how siblings work in real life.

[self-loving-vampire]

And meanwhile Tsukihime is like:

“What if the guy was actually from a family of fucked up and inbred murderers who passed down a killing instinct onto him and the other Special family that he thought he was from due to being brainwashed by his awful adoptive father was also actually full of abusive demons?”

And then also it turns out that a lot of the Special gifts the character’s have are also pretty much curses.

Shiki’s super special magical eyes (which are not actually tied to his ancestry) are slowly giving him brain damage and he will never have a full and healthy life because of them. He might die in his 20s or 30s as a result of using them.

Arcueid is one of the most powerful beings on the planet but her vampiric impulses are making her want to drink the one person she loves. She was also created as a tool to hunt down and kill other vampires and doesn’t know much about the simple pleasures of living.

Ciel’s absurd and record-breaking magical potential only made her a target to have her body hijacked by a reincarnating vampire who caused her to sadistically torture-murder everyone she knew. Her immortality following this incident resulted in the Catholic church repeatedly killing her for an entire month and then using her as a weapon to hunt non-humans.

Akiha has various powers as a result of her Special Demonic Bloodline but that same thing also makes her and the rest of her family pretty miserable, to say nothing of everyone else around them. She hates what she is and how her own father treated those close to her, even as she finds herself performing similar actions and then drowning in guilt.

Even Kohaku and Hisui, who have a rather unspectacular and specific ability, find themselves more hurt than helped by it. It was that ability that led to them being adopted by an abuser who sought to take advantage of it and treated them like objects, especially Kohaku. Being born into a completely normal family with no powers at all would have probably been far less painful for them.

All of the extraordinary abilities and special bloodlines involved in the story only seem to invite tragedy. They are cool to learn about, but many of them would be clearly undesirable to actually have in that kind of setting even if just because other people with troublesome supernatural abilities would not just leave you alone.

[quillsink]

The Highlights of the Amrev & Founding Fathers Fandom

@vive-la-revolution judging the smexiness of their legs

The entire existence of @thomasjeffersonsassworm

The hunger games simulator with all the founding fathers

That post where the declaration of independence was written in a google doc and got an insane amount of notes

Everyone hates Alexander Hamilton. Even if you love him, you hate him. That’s just the way it is.

The ghosts of founding fathers haunting people (Laurens and Jefferson among others)

Photoshopping them into cursed pics @imgaybut get over here

Each founding father has AT LEAST one person who simps for them and the rest of the fandom think they’re crazy (eg @torivikachu simping for Hamilton)

They’re all in hell. All of them. None of them got to heaven.

No one likes Arnold. No one. Andre meanwhile is loved.

Turn: Washington’s Spies is inaccurate and weird as fuck but 99% of us love it and watch it anyways

The Hamilton Musical is the bane of our existence and a good 70% of the fandom would gladly go back in time to make sure the musical was never written

EVERYONE HATES JOHN ADAMS FOR SOME REASON

Half of the founding fathers were chaotic bisexuals no we do not question it

The entirety of 1776 the musical

NATHAN HALE DESERVED BETTER 

Lams Fans TM not welcome only lams fans 

If you mention turtle and Laurens in the same sentence you can and will be banished from the fandom

Everyone knows who Steuben is. He’s the gay Prussian. Even if you’re not in the fandom you probably know this.

PANTSLESS FLAMING SHOTS PARTTYYYYYYYYYYY

Everyone during amrev calling each other nicknames from Greek mythology or history like fucking nerds (I say, as I spend hours researching the revolution)

That My Immortal lams fic

All the amrev drunk history 

Haha James Madison smol 

Jefferson and Washington Tol

Hamilton smol

The founding fathers have kinks according to this cursed fandom (you all know what I’m talking about I don’t need to even name who it is)

Nathan Hale’s Hazardous Tales is underrated as fuck

Those AIs of the founding fathers which makes their faces move as they talk and is cursed as fuck

Jedams being enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to sort of friends to I don’t even fucking keep track any more okay

Did I mention the pantsless party well too fucking bad I’m doing it again 

Even if you’re a Loyalist you have to admit the British generals were chaos

The entirety of Clinthowe

Making fun of everyone for crushing on Andre even though you probably do it too

LOYALIST OR PATRIOT *readies bayonet*

The name John

The name Thomas

WHY DOES NO ONE DURING THE REVOLUTION HAVE A UNIQUE NAME I SWEAR

Washington being a dad

Lafayette is his son

WASHINGTON’S AIDES BANTER I REPEAT THEIR BANTER

Ben Tallmadge/OC supremacy

So. Many. Redheads. Send help.

[hikarimiyanaga]

Request : Hi, I love and enjoy reading what you write thus I want to pose a request that the Dimitrescu Family with a powerful blood magic S/O who can control people's blood (u know, similar to Skarlet from MK)

Blood Magic, it's one of the powers that I want to experiment with, in terms of writing.

Also, the knowledge/information I have about this is because of Avatar (I haven't played Mortal Kombat in a long time, forgive my broke self.)

I also accidentally deleted the request so it's like this.

I'm really sorry. I hope you enjoy it!

Alcina Dimitrescu / Lady Dimitrescu

As a magician, you were pretty powerful, as a Mage of Blood Magik, though, you were undefeatable.

When you came into the village, the weird parasites in almost everyone's body bothered the fuck outta you. Because why the fuck??

It was just sitting there and eating there soul?? You knew the consequences on messing around with Parasites like those so you wanted to leave immediately but you stopped when you saw Alcina.

This very tall lady who towers over you just stopped the world but then you just realized that you were actually the only one who stopped moving. You quickly turned away but felt it. You turn to her again and see the parasite. It was so deep within her.

"Fuck." You cursed under your breath but then you feel it. Not connected to blood but the energy and mana itself.

"Fucking hell." You use your magic to peek into the Megamycete and grimace.

"Fucking shit." As if third time's the charm, Alcina hears your cursing and looks at you. You clenched your fist and was just glaring on the ground?? What a weirdo.

"Mother, is something wrong?" Bela asks, as she was the one who accompanied Alcina for her little stroll around the village.

"No. Just that woman." You feel eyes on you so you look up to see Alcina staring at you. You huff then turn away.

Being a magician, you aren't actually a people person, you've always hated it when people knew what you were.

Your foes were the only ones who ever actually knew that you practiced Blood Magik... not that they lived to actually tell anyone else.

You try to leave, you really did but all those people. That giant woman, all of it just-

"Leaves a bad taste in my mouth, nothing else." You turn back, trying to excuse your good nature.

You spend days trying different scrying spells, revelation spells and cure spells to see if any would work on the Megamycete and who the fuck is actually using it.

"That fucking bitch." Not only have you seen Alcina's, the villager's and the other lord's memories but Mother Miranda herself. "She wants a daughter? All this for a fucking hell-spawn?" You never did like children yourself, they were too innocent, too goddamn corruptible and too gullible.

You sigh and make your decision. She wants a daughter? You'll give her a daughter. You put on your mask and get your potions.

You'll cure this village of those fucking parasites and diseases or you'll die trying. Most probably cure them.

It took literally a whole day just to get the goddamn parasites of the villagers and Karl, who was the only one of the four lords who volunteered when he heard what you were doing.

The next was Donna, who cried when you actually gave Angie a body. Then Salvatore was next, when you promised to be his friend.

Alcina was the hardest. She thought that if she accepted then her daughters would die and disappear. But you assured her and even showed her that you wouldn't let that happen. She was amazed by the other lords. Donna isn't sporting her scar and Angie is actually alive and in a real body. Karl doesn't have his powers anymore but his intellect is still intact and Salvatore was just beaming.

"How did you-?" You chuckle.

"Blood Magik. It's something that only some practice and even fewer get the hang of. And me?" You ask as the air suddenly gets heavier and everything quiets down as you let out your mana. "I'm the Master of it." Everyone looks at you when just as fast as it came, the tension was gone. You hold out your hand to Alcina. "So would you trust me?" She accepts and cries in relief when she hugs Bela, Cassandra and Daniela in their normal bodies.

Meanwhile, you grimace in silence as your organs will take some time recovering their usual functions... what? Blood Magik needs sacrifices and you would rather do it yourself than exploit other people.

And then lastly, Mother Miranda. You were actually afraid that she would try to fight you and you, with your organs all fucked up and your only weapons are basically your potions, were nervous. But she accepted and as you hand over Eva safely to Mother Miranda, you pass out and everyone panics.

Karl was absolutely fucking scared shitless and befuddled by your physical condition?? How in hell are you even alive?

You wake up three days later and Karl just gave up on trying.

You laugh at him and wheeze.

"I"m basically kind of an immortal too." He just sighs.

The next few weeks were spent inside the Dimitrescu Castle because that was the most comfortable house. The Beneviento House would be good too but Karl just felt that you would like it more in the Dimitrescu Castle. You agree.

As you spend more time with Alcina, you both just slowly but surely fall for each other.

Bela Dimitrescu

Hunting made easier. Brought to her by you and your Blood Magik.

With just one goddamn snap of your fingers and bam, a barrel is full.

This makes spending time with each other, a lot easier and longer.

She would listen to you tell your stories and you love it when she gets excited about books and such.

One day, you finally learn how to create a human body. There was a lot of things to do and spells to practice but you were determined.

And you finally achieved it. It took long enough but then you sensed it.

Mother Miranda stole a baby from a caravan??

"What in hell is happening?" You mumble as you gaze at the village. Then there it was, and it hurt the fuck out of your mana when the people turned into monsters.

"What the fuck!? Shit!" You curse as you feel the megamycete mutate. "Oh hell no!" You shout and use your magik to locate the shit.

"Die, asswipe!" You completely destroy it without batting an eye and you can hear Mother Miranda's shouts of agony.

You pant as you can finally feel the mana in the air be lighter. You go to the castle and as expected, everyone is in a bad shape.

It took months but you got them all back to normal, even most of the villagers.

Bela kept crying as you hug her, finally together with her.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

You met Cassandra while you were surrounded by Karl's werewolves. Dead werewolves. You were slightly out of breath and then your eyes met.

Ethan was about to chase her but you stopped him because she was the same as them.

"Why'd you stop me then?" You shrug at your brother who glares at you.

"We should just get Rose back and not kill anyone anymore." Ethan raises an eyebrow at you.

"What? You literally just killed like a hundred of these werewolves." You use your magik to get the blood off yourself.

"They attacked. I only countered." Ethan sighs as you just walk away. He follows you and as you get to the castle. You can instantly feel their energy.

"What the fuck? They're made of it?" You mumble to yourself. And just as Bela was about to push you and Ethan down, you counter her and made sure to not let her flies disperse.

'Shit. This is hard.' You think to yourself as you dodge both Cassandra and Daniela attacking you.

"Y/N?"

"Rose is in that direction. Just wait for me there." Ethan nods and quickly goes the way you pointed. You use your magik and they all freeze. "You guys are so troublesome." You sigh. "But then again, I suppose all good things are." You use your magik again and locate Alcina.

You made a deal with the Dimitrescu Head. In exchange for normal bodies, she'll have to let you, Ethan and Rose's part go. Ethan's outburst when he realized what they did to his daughter didn't help but you used that.

"You know I'm powerful, right? Trust me, you don't want to test my brother."

You leave the Castle with Ethan, unharmed but with a deal made.

It was the same with the other three houses and before you knew it, your niece was restored and you had to make eight people back to normal... It was hard but when you wake up, feeling groggy and disoriented with all of those people and your family, you think to yourself that it was all worth it.

You rebuild the village with all of them and actually get closer with Cassandra. She admires your magik and you admire her art.

Before you even knew it, you had fallen for her and even though she hasn't realized it yet, she has fallen for you too.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Being a powerful magician meant most of the world are after you.

That was how you found the village. It was isolated and so it was perfect for you.

As you were strolling along the village, late into the night, when everyone is asleep, you feel a somewhat murderous intent and you smile to yourself. Either you were too careless or someone was really good at hiding their intent.

When something was about to hit you, you quickly activated your magik but flinched when it didn't affect them, so you quickly turned and jumped back.

The person who attacked you was surprised as well that you could react like that.

"What? You dodged??" You sigh.

"I dodged because you were trying to kill me! Who are you?" Daniela smiles at you.

"Daniela Dimitrescu, I live in that castle. And you?" Why did this woman?? can you even call her that suddenly- You sigh.

"I'm Y/N... and something is really wrong with this village of yours."

"What?"

Before you and Daniela even knew it, you were both knee-deep in everything, you even saw the Megamycete together.

And call Daniela, good-natured because by then, she wanted to stop Mother Miranda and help everyone. So help you did.

You just couldn't say no to her, could you?

By the time, everything was over, you were already half-dead and Daniela finally realized she was in love with you.

It was a good thing that you have potions.

A/N:

I'm sorry that I have been gone for weeks now. College started then something happened that made me not want to write at all.

But I'm back, although I may be a bit slow.

I'm so sorry. I also closed off my requests since I'll be focusing on college and completing the Loving You sequel which is 70% done by now.

Comments and thoughts are always welcome!

Thank you for reading!

If you can, please buy me a coffee.

[13daze]

im finally making progress on lessons again (bc my clown ass finally started levelling memory cards...) anyways idk if i should spoiler tag but this is from lesson 35-36ish, reapers cave arc.

the brothers miscommunicating... peak comedy

there is no way he isnt doing this on purpose oh my god

i did not know solomon being immortal was an accident i did not know that was an OPTION (i have 2 immortal witch ocs, one was cursed and the other sold their identity for it. meanwhile solomon.)

also solomon stalker confirmed + his dynamic with thirteen is so fucking funny

the fact that thirteen started hating him bc he offered her his cooking 😭 that was a straight up murder attempt thirteen is so right to want vengeance

anyways solomon and my mc are soulmates bc they both just point and laugh every time the brothers do something embarrassing. its a free show.

[the-fandomwriter]

I want tommy to pull a Percy Jackson so bad (context: Percy Jackson crashed his own funeral once in the books)

YES PLEASE WE NEED THIS RIGHT NOW. 

and he would go all out too. like sneaking in and waiting until tubbo gets up for the eulogy and just scaring the absolute shit out of tubbo who’s literally blubbering over his “dead” friend, meanwhile ghostbur and techno are just chuckling from behind a tree as everyone starts losing their shit and tommy’s just stabbing things and attacking dream (assuming tommy has finally realized that dream is a massive dickhead and he’s fully grasped that dream manipulated him and all that) who was trying to act all sad about it n stuff. 

ranboo is just dumbfounded because, jesus fucking christ kid, you could’ve just sent a letter or /msg’ed everyone instead of literally stabbing people and causing multiple people to piss their pants. 

phil watches with an amused smile in the back row of seats (tubbo allowed him to attend since he’s not that big an asshole and tommy’s literally phil’s son). he originally didn’t want tommy to go through with this plan since it was incredibly risky considering dream would be there, but once he overheard tommy and techno conversing a few days prior to the funeral about tommy sneaking knives in to attack dream, phil was suddenly on board. sure, phil wanted to murder dream himself, but he figures it was time for tommy to take matters into his own hands and beat the absolute shit outta that fucker. 

vikkstar and lazar watch in horror wondering what the fuck they got themselves into, fundy is facepalming as he watches ghostbur cheer tommy on as he starts yelling some bullshit about “never dying” and “being immortal”. 

karl is losing his mind, he’s in fits of gut-tearing laughter on the floor, he had a feeling tommy wasn’t dead, he knew deep down that tommy really was a “big man” who wouldn’t let isolation stop him from getting his discs back. 

quackity and niki just stand there exchanging shocked glances as the funeral gets more and more outta whack, the grass in the field is now burning, there’s arrows flying, food being thrown, shriek's of terror, and the two just stand in the center of it all unsure what the fuck they’re supposed to do next. 

then everything falls silent as tubbo starts down what used to be the center aisle where the empty casket was to be carried down. his cheeks are stained with tears, eyes red as a poppy. he’s skinnier than tommy remembered him, his coat hung too loosely off his shoulders, and his cheekbones were slightly more prominent than before. he looked ghastly, with pallor skin and purple bags under his eyes. 

he stops in front of the beaming tommy, who looks healthy again, with clean hair and healing scratches on his face, and his eyes are blue again. a bright, lively blue and contrasted tubbo’s deep, colorless ones that had lost all hope in the week’s past. 

tommy looks up at tubbo with a faltering grin as he takes in the destroyed sight of his best friend. of his old best friend. he couldn’t call him that anymore, could he?

tommy was ready to be hugged, slapped, screamed at, pushed away, beaten to a pulp, anything. 

then tubbo seized, knocking tommy to the ground, throwing tiny balled up fists into tommy’s chest like a million stones being thrown against the surface of a lake, each one feeling more and more deserved as tommy protects his face from any mis-targeted blows. 

ghostbur watches hastily, but doesn’t intervene. techno and phil begin pushing through the crowd as everyone begins to watch curiously as the tiny, broken boy continuously pounds his fists against tommy’s chest, repeatedly screaming curses and swears and venom. 

“you bloody arse! how could you?”

“you were supposed to be my best friend!” 

“i fucking hate you!”

“i thought you left me!”

“i thought you did it tommy, i thought you were gone for good!” 

he curses until his throat grows strained, and punches until his knuckles are raw and sore. he fights until he can no longer, and phil is carefully pulling him off of tommy, and tubbo clings helplessly to phil, blubbering uncontrollably. 

techno is at tommy’s side, helping him to his feet, and ghostbur looms sadly in the front of the crowd, an arm around niki’s shoulders. 

“i’m sorry, tubbo.” is all tommy manages to utter before tubbo lurches forward again. tommy flinches, preparing to be bombarded by another stoning, only to find two arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen, holding onto him for dear life, as if tommy were keeping the deflated boy afloat. 

“thank god you’re all right,” tubbo replies, words muffled by tommy’s askew shirt. “so help me, tommy, i’m going to murder you for doing that to me.” 

and tommy laughs, and tubbo laughs, and the air eases, and all tense shoulders and concerned glances ease. everything is all right. or, as all right as it could get. 

[aprxl-showers]

klance x pirates of the caribbean

bc apparently when i'm upset i listen to newsies live and think up weird klance aus

in my head this could go one of two ways:

keith and lance as will and elizabeth

keith and lance as jack and will (i'll explain later)

a lot more under the cut bc i got a bit carried away...

if it follows the canon love story i picture lance as will and keith as elizabeth. (i could see it the other way around bc keith could be the orphan pirate boy but i’ve written too much to go back now).

when they were young, keith was on a ship with his father and he spots lance on a piece of driftwood. they save him ofc and keith spots a jewel necklace around lance's neck. he takes it and later has it fused in the hilt of his mother's knife that is now his.

keith hates being the governor's son with a passion. he hates the formality of it and how restrictive it is. lance is the weaponsmaster's apprentice (that's how he gets good with a gun) and he is always under appreciated! give this guy some recignition!

anyway, he has been silently pining for keith for ages. little does he know, keith kind of likes him too. a lot of mutual pining has been going on for longer than either can recall.

anyhoo, pirates invade the town and kidnap keith. he puts up a fight but in the end he's outnumbered and taken aboard the ship as leverage. he says his surname is mcclain bc it's on his mind. wink wonk. captain of the evil pirates is zarkon and when the pirates who kidnapped keith hand him the knife he realises it is the jewel that can break their spell. since keith uses lance's surname, he also thinks it is keith's blood they need to finish the ritual since lance's family are the one's who sent the jewel away with lance. but it's not. obvs.

lance, after saving a baby, watches keith get taken in horror and tries to call out but is knocked out before he can act. once he's awake he hears that there's a pirate who was caught in the dungeon. that's allura. yes, eccentric captain allura is a choice i am making.

lance manages to break her out of jail, thinking she is one of the evil pirates and he can persuade her to help him. she is not but decides to help him anyway in an attempt to retrieve her ship 'the voltron' from zarkon. the two of them go off on a quest to save keith.

meanwhile, hunk and pidge are guarding keith. they are new recruits to zarkon's crew after their other crew threw pidge out when they discovered she was a girl (silly pirate superstitions). hunk went with her. they are easily persuaded to help keith bc zarkon's a meanie and promise that they'll help him out when they make it to land.

lance and allura arrive on an island and find coran who is allura's closest friend and ally. shiro is also there. he has a peg arm (is that a thing? idk it's a weird mechanism but it does the trick). coran explains that the ship keith is on is cursed and they will be going to the mysterious isle of daibazaal to break the curse.

they get there and watch zarkon attempt to break the curse using the jewel (which he pried out of the blade) and keith's blood. nah, it don't work. they still turn into creepy looking skeletons in the moonlight. damn. he threatens keith and then all hell breaks loose bc lance shoots him. it would have definitely killed zarkon but he can't die bc... the whole undead thing, and in doing so all lance does is reveal their position. they fight a bit, as you do. keith gets hold of a sword and kills three evil pirates in about five seconds. lance falls a little bit in love with him.

in the midst of the battle, lance makes a deal with zarkon that he will stay if keith and the others can go (this now includes hunk and pidge bc they helped keith get free). lance is stripped of visible weapons and zarkon agrees to break the curse immediately. lance cuts his hand and drops the jewel into the chest.

then he grabs keith's jewel-less knife from where it lies beside the chest. zarkon, distracted, doesn't notice until the blade is buried in his gut. he dies. keith and the rest act immediately and kill any other pirates who don't surrender. keith kills an evil pirate about to shoot lance.

they return keith in exchange for allura, coran, shiro, pidge, hunk and lance's pardon. keith expresses his wish not to be governor in the future and allura invites them on 'the voltron' ship with her since she reclaimed it from zarkon. keith and lance then have a moment where they thank each other for saving each other's life. keith thanks lance for coming after him and lance confesses. it's all very sappy and they kiss for ages.

OR

lance is still will. i stand by everything i said about him in the previous version. his parents caused the curse to endure and sent him off. but instead of keith finding him, it's allura. she's the governor's (in this case, alfor's) daughter. she takes the jewel and keeps it as a necklace. lance and allura are more like besties but they're not really allowed to see each other because of their differing classes.

keith arrives and escapes the navy. hides in weaponsmaster’s shop. lance tries to fight him but he’s not as good with a sword as he is with a gun. lots of sassy banter where lance is tryna be noble and keith doesn’t care for it.

anyway, we sort of know what happens. allura gets kidnapped and uses lance's surname bc they had a conversation beforehand. lance stresses, hears about a pirate they captured, assumes it's one of the evil ones he can persuade to help him.

but instead he gets keith who he met earlier. in the time they’ve been apart he’s got himself landed in the dungeon. and he’s notoriously one of the most stubborn, grumy pirate captains in all the seven seas.

he's overall unimpressed with lance as a person and with his plan, only agreeing when he realises he might be able to get his ship, this time called 'the red lion', back. lance decides he's going to prove himself to keith. he doesn't know why he's so offended by a pirate's opinion but he just is. hmmm...

they pick up shiro and coran, pidge and hunk promise to help allura out yada yada yada and they start making their way towards the island.

they run into lotor and his crew (acxa, ezor, zethrid etc) who are unrelated to zarkon and that whole... thing but they're your typical pirates and they want their stuff. which is annoying af bc allura is missing and they have somewhere to be thank you very much.

they put up a good fight. lance has plenty of opportunities to impress keith with his pistol skills. consider keith very impressed and mildly enamoured. but he doesn't do feelings so he stuffs them down inside him as you do. they win and move on. afterwards keith asks lance where he learned those moves and lance tells him stories of his time in the weaponsmaster's workshop. they bond.

they get to the island and find allura. they fight and keith and lance save each other's backs too many times to count. lance has a revelation (inconveniently mid battle) that he actually really likes this. this is fun. this is exciting.

then keith fucks up. he says that he'll hand lance over if zarkon gives him his ship back. lance is fucking fuming and feeling very betrayed and hurt bc he actually felt like he was getting somewhere with keith. keith gets what he deserves though bc zarkon dumps him and allura on an island and takes lance away.

while they're on the island allura knocks some sense into him regarding his life generally and lance specifically. she tells him loads of cute lance-as-a-teenager stories and keith feels awful. he helps her light a signal fire using some rum he has on his person.

they spot the ship alfor sent to find allura. they persuade them to go to where lance and the rest of the crew is. keith tries to act like he's on zarkon's side when they get back to the cave and then he takes one of the cursed jewels so he's now immortal. aha! while this is happening allura has infiltrated zarkon's ship, 'the red lion', so shiro, coran, pidge and hunk can be freed.

allura then frees lance from where they were keeping him in the hull. lance runs to where keith is. they share a look. keith cuts his hand and throws the jewel to lance who does the same and drops it into the water. the curse is broken. keith goes to grab zarkon's sword so he can kill him but zarkon grabs him by the throat. lance shoots zarkon in the side before keith can pass out. he runs to keith who has collapsed. keith apologises and thanks him and promises not to betray him again. lance laughs, says he better not and helps him up.

they return allura safely in exchange for their pardon. keith asks lance to join the crew of 'the red lion' and gives him loads of reasons that are really just disguised compliments. safe to say lance kisses him senseless and they run away together, sailing off into the sunset. bc. klance. there's got to be a sunset somewhere.

hope you liked my what-were-meant-to-be-headcanons-but-just-became-plot-summaries!! i promise i’ll post some general pirate voltron headcanons unrelated to this au at some point. i wrote a pirate au piece for klance au month on my ao3 so some might be related to that?

if you want to send asks or whatever that would be cool - even if they're just random ideas for the au or changes/additions to the plot. i also might write little snippets for this at some point (i’ll tag them under ‘kl potc au’ like this post) bc i'm suddenly crazy invested so if you have any scenes from this you want (from version 1 or 2 or any scene in the plethora of potc movies) send a message and i'll probably get around to it :))

[lazaefair]

Has anyone done the Disney Princess AU yet

Part 1 - written by me, @poemsingreenink, and @iwritesometimes

poemsingreenink: Like, if anyone has big, soft innocent eyes it's Marwan who I swear to god looks near happy tears in most intense scenes. I at one point during Aladdin in theaters thought "You know Jafar's maybe just not had a great life. He's really having a day here." BECAUSE OF HIS BIG SOFT EYES.

lazaefair: LUCA MARINELLI HIMSELF SAID IT

sarah: HOWWWWW DID HE EVEN GET CAST AS JAFAR LIKE THOSE ARE DISNEY PRINCESS EYES

lazaefair: I...I need somone to draw Joe in a Disney Princess dress

sarah: but WHICH PRINCESS i feel like belle's off the shoulder gold ballgown has promise

lazaefair: Ariel’s pink gown would really drive the point home, though Although you’re right, Belle is a literate, dreamy brunette who loves poetry, so she’s closer as an archetype

sarah: i'll be honest: i was mostly thinking of getting his shoulders nude

lazaefair: Nicky is Ariel. Big blue eyes, otherworldly, utterly uncivilized.

sarah: YES

So imagine: Prince Yusuf, who had a giant statue of himself gifted to him on his birthday, and who hates it because his best friend (and immortal general of the army) Andromache is NEVER GOING TO LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

Also imagine: feral merman siren Nicolò who bites off fishheads and communicates through weird clicking noises, when he’s not singing men to their deaths. He’s not one of those useless pretty koi mermaids, no. He’s a motherfucking creature of the deep. Lamp eyes that are used to distract fish prey. Claws and pale fins and an intense stare and fangs.

Now imagine: Prince Yusuf going overboard in the storm that hits his royal yacht. Struggling, swept away, half-drowned and losing hope fast when an unearthly song fills the air, low and sweet and compelling. He’s swimming towards the singing before he realizes it, delirious, until something closes around his ankle and drags him under. The thing under the water kills him quickly.

And then kills him again, when it doesn’t take. After the third killing, Nicolò’s on his way to being well and truly mystified (“Okay, don't panic. They all die eventually, maybe...maybe I’ll just need to do it again?”) and gives up after the fourth and fifth killing. He drags his (attempted) prey to a little sheltered island he knows about, kills it one last time just to make sure, and then watches, resigned, as the flesh heals up and the lungs push water out until it’s coughing its way back to undeniable life.

“You rescued me,” is the first thing Yusuf says to him. “Your song – it is the song of my heart. My soul.”

Nicolò...has no idea what to do with this, coughs awkwardly in reply, and leaves before he can think too hard about the warmth in his chest answering to the warmth in the human’s expressive, grateful eyes.

(He doesn’t tell Yusuf the truth about their bloody first meeting until years later. It’s too goddamn embarrassing, to be perfectly honest.)

Of course he comes back within a day, almost shamefully quickly. Unable to help being fascinated by this gorgeous, well-spoken, kind and generous human who cannot die. He starts bringing things to Yusuf: at first just fish, then interesting-shaped fragments of rock and coral, and then bits of treasure he’s collected over the years, just to hear what new poetic turn of phrase Yusuf will spout on the spot when he’s given something.

“...this is my family crest on this treasure chest, Nicolò. How strange.”

“It is the chest you said your great-great-grandfather lost,” Nicolò says, the words coming out dry and halting from long years of disuse. Watching Yusuf’s hands as he traces the elaborate lines engraved on the lid, now blurred with rust and coral. 

“That’s amazing. Truly. I am at a loss for words,” Yusuf says, smiling.

“No, you aren’t,” Nicolò says, and keeps watching so he can see the moment when the smile turns into a laugh.

Another day, he brings to Yusuf what Booker had told him was called a ‘dinglehopper’ and was what humans used to keep their hair in order, as they did not have the ocean to spread it out like beautiful seaweed in the waves. Yusuf takes it, mouth twitching in a way that makes Nicolò doubt the accuracy of Booker’s explanation. Yet Yusuf does not correct him, but in fact solemnly thanks him before offering the dinglehopper back and asking him to help untangle his riot of curls.

And so it goes. Days pass. Fascination becomes infatuation, turns to desire and then into love, until neither can imagine living without the other, and yet—

Eventually, Nicolò has to give Yusuf up. The prince is too noble and good to just abandon his people indefinitely. And because Nicolò loves him, he goes out and once more lures a ship in with his song, but not to dash it to pieces on jagged rocks this time. He leads them to the island. Watches from a distance as the astonished shouting begins, then back-pounding hugs and joyous celebration as Yusuf boards the ship and sails away. Watches Yusuf turn back more than once to scan the beach, clearly looking for Nicolò, but Nicolò does not follow. Instead, he watches until the ship is lost to his sight and he cannot feel the ship’s current or smell, and then he dives deep and goes to visit Merrick.

Meanwhile, Yusuf arrives back at the capital, where his other best friend, Quỳnh (immortal admiral of the navy) feels terribly guilty about the prince going overboard on his birthday. Which is why she uncharacteristically doesn’t give him shit when he comes back babbling nonsense about mermaids. Or when he spends the next few weeks moping around, writing mermaid poetry and drawing mermaid pictures.

To be fair to him, the particular mermaid he sketches over and over does look pretty striking. Otherworldly and all that. Good cheekbones. Nice pearly scales. “Fucking...giant anglerfish eyes,” Quỳnh mutters while she and Andy look over the latest pile of sketches Yusuf’s left abandoned on a library table. “Our prince has been fucking bewitched by a fucking fish.”

“Mm,” Andy agrees. 

So when Nicolò arrives at the palace one fine summer’s day – naked, his fangs smoothed away to look perfectly human, a giant emerald in one hand and a silver fork in the other – and walking, on legs, it causes a bit of an uproar.

“You still smell like the sea,” Yusuf says hoarsely into Nicolò’s neck, the two of them wrapped around each other as closely as two bodies can be.

“Oh, fuck,” Andy says, lowering her axe. Quỳnh looks more closely at the dirty naked wild man their prince is embracing as if his life depends on it. Angular face. Skin encrusted with salt. Absolutely enormous piercing blue eyes. Naked, did we mention naked.

“Oh, fuck,” Quỳnh says.

“You get them separated,” Andy says. “I’ll go...get them a bath.”

The price Nicolò paid for his new human shape:

His siren song.

His immortality.

What he gets in return:

Yusuf teaching him what a dinglehopper is actually called, and what humans actually use it for.

Yusuf teaching him how to read and write his native tongue, and a few other tongues besides.

Yusuf reading poetry to him or sketching next to him on long lazy afternoons in the gardens.

The immense pleasure of intimidating the fuck out of any remaining would-be suitors for Yusuf’s hand in marriage who are still hanging around the palace for some reason.

“I am Nicolò di Genova,” Nicolò replies to the marquis’s indignant demands – predator’s smile still frightening even without endless rows of needle-sharp teeth. “You have seven days to leave this place forever. Get your affairs in order.”

Friendship with Andy and Quỳnh.

“Holy shit. Did he just—”

“—stab the marquis with a fork, at dinner, in front of the entire court? Yep.”

“...”

“...”

“New best friend.”

“Obviously.”

Yusuf writing poetry about him and to him. Nicolò likes them all. He wouldn't know a good human poem from a bad human poem, but nothing Yusuf touches could be bad, so ergo it's good.

Sightseeing throughout the kingdom with Yusuf’s strong, gentle fingers twined around his.

Yusuf breathing blissful curses into Nicolò’s ear, exactly like he used to do on their island, as they move together on his enormous bed.

Yusuf. Yusuf. Yusuf.

(Booker is also there. He insisted on being turned human, too, and coming along to make sure Nicolò doesn’t totally fuck this up, but he’s really mainly there for the entertainment. And the booze. Andy asks him at one point about losing his immortality. He shrugs. “Look, if we die, we die,” he says, then offers Andy another pour of fine French brandy. The two of them get along famously.)

It’s all going great until one night on the beach, while they’re walking along hand-in-hand under the stars and idly discussing human and merfolk constellations. Someone approaches them, dressed splendidly and moving with arrogant grace. He is also angular, also fair-haired, also possessed of unsettling eyes. And he has Nicolò’s siren song, gently humming from the shell that adorns his neck.

“Merrick,” Nicolò hisses as Yusuf’s eyes grow glazed and blank, and he tightens his hand on Yusuf’s, afraid for the first time. “Our deal—”

“He can’t bear the idea of living forever without you, can he? And so he hasn’t proposed,” Merrick says, smiling cruelly. “You’ve missed your chance. He’s mine.” And he extends his hand out to Yusuf—

Who stirs, suddenly, and turns to Nicolò. “Limpid, or shimmering?” 

“What?”

“Shimmering,” Yusuf decides, peering into Nicolò’s eyes. “Yes. Limpid would be too pretentious, I think.”

And that’s pretty much that – we don’t actually get the plot with Merrick the Sea Witch because Yusuf only has eyes for one weird-looking white guy. Also, his one artistic failing is that he's tone deaf.

They do eventually kill Merrick because true love wins out and we are all about those happy endings, Grimm’s can suck it, etcetera, so Nicolò gets his immortality and his siren song back. He’s also back to being a merman, but Yusuf does not care. “I could paint your beautiful tail for the rest of my life, my love, and still fail to capture the luminous iridescence of you,” he murmurs, stroking said tail with tender fingers. The last person to touch Nicolò’s tail got his hand bitten off. Here and now, Nicolò runs his claws through Yusuf’s hair, clicking deep and happy in his throat.

(“This is weird, right?” Quỳnh asks from where she and Andy are busy scraping evil kraken guts off their armor, a prudent distance down the beach from the lovers. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird?”

Andy says nothing, just offers Quỳnh the rest of her bottle of vodka. This is why Quỳnh loves her so.)

(The wedding is a nightmare, at least according to the palace chef charged with cooking the wedding feast. “What is this, this, abomination? What in heaven’s name have you brought into my kitchen!”

“Tubeworm,” Booker says. “Considered a fine delicacy among our people. Don’t worry about it.”)

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 11

Wordcount: 5,150 Rating: M for strong language, ideologically sensitive and mature themes, gore “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did.” Chapter synopsis: Allen and Arthur race to find you both, but it proves to be harder without knowing your whereabouts. Meanwhile, you've successfully helped Alfred find the chip. Before leaving, you have a long-awaited conversation with your father to realize he's more insane than you thought. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): Cyberninja,  Trouble finds trouble, Tower Lockdown, Me!Me!Me!, Pt. 2, Him & I (with Halsey), Atlantis. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

Cyberninja

Before Arthur could even buckle himself in, Allen rammed his foot into the gas pedal. He was thrown back in a violent manner, and hit his head against the headrest. But the mechanic never complained. He looked stressed enough as is, continually scanning the road while murmuring to himself as if he’d really gone mad. “Hell, that motherfucker could be anywhere in the whole fucking city right now.” He hissed, pulling out of the driveway and into the main road.

“We can’t call him. Track him. Nothing. Same goes for (F/N). They’re off the map.” Turning to his companion numerous times in distress, he sped through the streets, though he had no particular destination in mind.

The indicator clicked. Allen cursed at the car in front of them, but never made a move to overtake. As Arthur became overwhelmed by these stimulants, he opened his mouth, defeated. “If you’re in such a hurry, why--why bother following traffic rules? You never have before, so why now?” He asked with a shake of the head, earning a loud scoff from the other.

The car windows glowed with a flurry of pinks and purples as they moved closer to the commercial district. They were near their first stop.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t give a damn if I didn’t have to.” The whites of his eyes reflected a mosaic of color as he never looked away from the road. “But that was when I was working for my boss. I had protection. I could do a hit and run if I wanted, and without the running part.” The redhead breathed. Then, he stuck his head out of the window with a huff. Immediately, he was choked by the city smog, and deafened by the blaring of car horns.

“Friggen’ prick...” He flipped off the driver in front of him. Sitting back into his seat, he flashed Arthur a grin, though the man couldn’t return the energy.

“Did you get fired? Or did you quit?” This wasn’t the best time to ask about the past, but he had been dying to know why he wound up half-dead on his doorstep. So what better a time to do it than now?

“I quit.” Allen answered point-blank. “Old man didn’t take it well. Decided to kill me. Didn’t.” Slowing the vehicle, they arrived at a parking-lot surrounded by backdoors of multiple piss-poor establishments. One of which was illuminated by a flickering red neon sign that read ‘no-tell motel’.

“He thinks I’m dead, so the rest of the city has to think that too.”

Arthur gawked at him. “That makes you no better than a fugitive! And it’s not just anybody after you--Allen, he’ll kill you when he finds out you’re still alive!”

“And that’s why he won’t find out.” Tapping the side of his neck for a flap to open, the said man slotted a small disk inside. “Disables cybernetic upgrades in a twenty foot radius. Means I can’t use mine, but it stops other people from figuring out who I am.” He dug through one of the compartments for a muffler, which he wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

What he did next was alarming, however. Sticking his hand further in, he pulled out a gun and cocked it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing--!?” Arthur exclaimed, fumbling with a face mask Allen tossed his way. He didn’t see a silencer anywhere either. “If I can call the police without any upgrades, so can everyone else!”

His statement couldn’t ring any truer, and yet, it never slowed down the other’s movements as he climbed out of the car. Unsatisfied by his silence, he wound up getting out to follow him. “Oi, say something! At least let me know you’re not gonna shoot up a restaurant!” Whispering that part out, he had to speed up a few steps to catch up with the man, now marching to the backdoor of a motel.

“Put the mask on.” Allen murmured without sparing him a single glance. But he paused briefly to process what he said. “... A motel, you mean. But I’m hoping we won’t have to resort to that.”

Arthur’s eyes went round. “You were considering--”

He could share the desperation to save Alfred’s life, but he had a hard time following how. Shooting up a motel? What was he thinking?

“Yes.” Attaching his hand to the door, it creaked open. Before Allen took another step, he faced him with a serious glower. “Now when we get inside, I want you to walk up to the receptionist. He’s programmed to greet you. Ask him for a room, and while you do, I’ll approach him from behind and deactivate him. Kapeesh?”

But then again, he was in the dark here. Arthur hadn’t the slightest clue on what Alfred’s circumstances were, as mysterious as the man was, so he had no idea how he was on the verge of dying.

So naturally, he wouldn’t know how to save him either.

But he trusted Allen to know what to do.

“... Alright. You better not make me regret this, you tyke.” 

“You can call me anything you want, just not that. I’m not a kid anymore.” Those words would become apparent as they walked inside, where their plan went by without a hitch. They heard the automated voice of superficial kindness, which stopped abruptly to the sound of an android powering off. Its body fell to the ground to reveal Allen standing behind. Without wasting a second, he leaned over and typed furiously on the keyboard of the computer.

Trouble finds trouble

“Lemme see if this has a log of everybody who came by...” A few moments later, he started nodding at what he saw. “Bingo...” On their private encrypted server, stored the history of all the guests who booked a night. “Well, what do you know... Alfred checked out two days ago. But he’s on the move.” Pulling away to stand up straight, he jogged over to the exit.

“Even if someone tried to look for him in one a’ these places, he’d have to get behind the reception and do exactly what I did.” This someone referred to Matsumoto, but death already followed Alfred wherever he went. Not that Alfred knew that. “The perks of a no-tell motel. Even if they reek of piss, so long as there’s crime, they’ll never go out of business.” He beckoned Arthur to follow him with a tilt of the head. 

“One down, twenty-seven more to go. And that’s only in the direction he’s going... And under the assumption he’s only staying at these motels. So, uh, let’s hope he didn’t try to be too unpredictable.” 

The Brit huffed. This wasn’t going to be easy. 

“I think he’d be predictable to do that if you asked me.” He murmured. “But you call the shots. I’ll just be... Moral support.” 

Allen already disappeared out the door, but his head poked into the doorframe at that. “Nah. You have the most important job outta’ the both of us.” 

That was right. He didn’t tell him yet. He really should’ve a while ago, but he got caught up in the chase. 

“Whether you remove a chip from his head or not will determine if he lives or not.” 

Arthur paled. 

“He’s the guy my boss wanted me to kill. Remember the dude I told you about? The one who tried to steal a prototype chip three years ago?” Now that he mentioned it, he recalled the conversation a few weeks ago. But wait a minute. 

The mechanic felt his face scrunch up as he was hit with a major epiphany. That was Alfred? The terrorist Allen had been updating him about? He was the man who tore up three floors of the headquarters of Matsumoto Optics, and simultaneously, the same customer he had been serving for the last few years.

Before he could even process his shock, he was presented with even more appalling information. 

“He stole it this time. That’s what he and (F/N) disappeared to do. But now that it’s in his head, it’ll overwrite his consciousness until he’s a fucking vegetable.” 

Arthur was horrified. “Then why would he even--” 

“Because he doesn’t know.” Allen cut in with a grim expression. “He thought the chip was supposed to give him immortality, so he wanted to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Like my boss. But no. It’s the opposite. It was all a ploy to kill him.” At this point, the blonde was at loss for words. As a doctor and mechanic, he was quite frankly terrified of how devilishly clever Matsumoto was. But he couldn’t expect any less from him, could he?

They made it back to the car, and he could only stare aimlessly out the windshield, paralyzed. 

“That’s why we need you.” He heard him say. Turning to the man, albeit slowly, he felt a hand slap down on his shoulder. Allen gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re the smartest guy I know, second to my boss. You were always great at fixing stuff. Cars, enhancements, people--so what’s a mixture of all three?”

Arthur dug a hand through his hair stressfully. “... You’re kidding.” And yet, he already knew he was on board. “... Are you calling him a car?” 

The other flattened his lips. “... He technically could be.” 

“Just to be clear, I fucking hate you.” 

Allen laughed. “Sure.”

“But otherwise, we’re wasting time.” He couldn’t believe the words falling from his lips. This was really happening, wasn’t it? After taking him in as an apprentice for his auto shop, the roles were finally reversed. He no longer took charge as the teacher. Or rather, he became the student caught up in the most difficult assignment yet. Having a taste of Allen’s work. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” 

***

Tower Lockdown

You had all the reasons in the world to be anxious coming home. 

On top of worrying over Alfred, who had hundreds of trained assassins coming at him all at once, during every minute of the heist, you had to face an aspect of reality you avoided until now. You were in the building, and he had already stolen the chip. It was slotted comfortably in his head, ready to leave the premises.

 How come your father never appeared? Was he really just going to let you go just like that?

But the real question was this--should you stay or leave? 

Yes, you hardly approved of anything he’d done. Done to the world like Alfred always mentioned, and to Alfred himself. But you weren’t prepared to abandon him yet. He was still your father, and the only family you had. If you had to make a decision, you needed some closure. If not, a discussion. 

And you expected him to give it to you as the least he could do. 

As Alfred stood among a pile of dead bodies bathing in red, his mantis blades trembled against a katana blade. Even with his hands full, he made the time to check on you. “(F/N)! Stay away from walls! Just hang on for a second longer!” He shouted, turning to you briefly before diverting his attention back to his opponent. “We’re nearly home free!” 

Pulling away to give him a swift jab in the chest, blood sprayed onto his face, but he wasn’t fazed.

What did, however, was the sight of you being thrown over the shoulder of one of the bodyguards. Color drained from his face and he burst into a sprint. 

“(F/N)! No!” Watching you disappear into an elevator, he slammed right into the closing metal doors. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist against them to hear a loud bang. Before he could linger too long, he hastily made his way to a door adjacent. The emergency stairs would take a hell lot longer, but as if he’d wait for the elevator to come back down. 

Even if he needed to climb up a hundred flights to get to you, he would--all the way to the penthouse where Matsumoto was. 

When those men approached you, there was no struggle on your end. You knew where they were going to take you. And you wanted them to. It could even be said you were relieved, because that meant your father was thinking of you. After a minute or so, the soft whirring fell silent, followed by a soft ‘ding’. 

They moved outside the elevator, and after a few steps, they set you down on your feet. Right in the middle of your father’s office. At the very end behind a desk sat the man himself, and he was eyeing you with an unreadable expression. Upon returning his stare, came an onslaught of emotions. But the most prominent was incapacitating anxiety.

Even as his daughter, you could never see through him. He was impossible to read. So you had no idea what to expect. 

“Dad... We need to talk.” You began, walking up to him warily. This was what you wished for at the start, cried for, even. To return home. And yet, the nervous pounding in your chest seemed to worsen with every step you took. It was jarring to confront how much had changed since then. So while you barely managed any words, you were already overwhelmed, struggling to choke back tears. 

“For once, I need to know what you’re thinking.” 

He inhaled deeply before responding. “I was under the same impression that we’d have this conversation.” Standing up from his chair, he furrowed his brows at the sight of you clenching the fabric of your pants. “Don’t look so nervous, child. You haven’t done anything to anger or disappoint me.” Reaching out to your head, he settled a hand on it. 

“... Really?” You whispered out. Hearing his assurances calmed you down a touch. But when you saw the forlorn gaze he cast down at you, your heart was crushed. “... Dad?”

Me!Me!Me!, Pt.2

Any existing contempt for him melted away just like that, but you weren’t upset at yourself for it. Your father hardly expressed any emotion besides calm indifference. And when he did, it always felt like the world was ending. 

“I’m the one who deserves your anger.” He clarified, lowering his hands to your shoulders. “I’ve left you by yourself for far too long, (F/N). I hope you don’t hold it against me that you had to come home yourself.” You hung your head, unable to meet his saddened gray eyes. If you were to hold a grudge at him for it, you’d start by avoiding his gaze. “And I understand why you would’ve wanted to help him. He has a way with words, and a naïve sense of justice. But it’s a warped perception of reality.”  

You’d hate to admit it, but no matter how cruel he seemed to be, there was a method to his madness. 

And you were perhaps the only person in the world to know it. 

That was why you were so torn. Torn between hating him and understanding him. After all, you couldn’t have both. “You can’t blame him after what you did to him.” Glancing up at that, you felt bile rise in your throat. Then, your vision blurred. “I don’t know what you’re aiming for--for this company, and this world. But you can’t expect him to accept this world you created when you stole him from his. He had a life!” 

Staring at him through hot tears, he breathed out a soft sigh before rubbing them away with a swipe of the thumb. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. And I won’t expect you to forgive me even after telling you the reasons for my actions.”  

He pulled away from you to begin walking back to his desk, but not to sit down. Instead, he stood by the window to watch the blinking lights of skyscrapers and small moving dots of cars on the streets. “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did. So of course, he would reject the idea of immortality. The destruction of the most human quality there is.” 

He paused briefly to scan the landscape.

“Mortality. One’s inevitable end gives everything they do meaning.” 

Wrinkles creased between your brows. It was confusing to hear him speak so highly of death, frustrating, even. Wasn’t he the one investing billions into correcting it like a flaw? “If that’s what you really think, then why? Why would you make something that would take that all away?” 

He held his hands behind his back. “To serve the greater good. A sacrifice, if you will.” The man turned to you, this time with a serious glower. “Alfred thinks I would commercialize it. Sell it to the public. But he’s wrong. Immortality will only be available to the leaders of the world.”

By leaders, you could only assume he meant people like him. Not politicians, but business men and women. Company owners. The most powerful forces of the present. “The inability to die is a curse. You never move on because you’re still breathing. But that may be just what the world needs. Stagnation. An absence of change.” 

It was daunting to know this man was your father. You couldn’t say you were born with half as many of these attributes he had. Intelligence was easily passed down, but there was something else written in his genes you could never dream of having. “With every passing year, decade, and century, humanity frays like a rope. Society continues to deteriorate... All until self-destruction becomes a matter of time.” Facing the window again, he scanned the impressive architecture he was proud to call his own. And it looked as pristine as it did yesterday. 

“The only way to stop this was to take control of it myself. And that’s how I came to found this company. I’ve found a way to govern the people. To invest in science as the world’s last and only hope. But it’s a job that will last eons, so I was prepared to do it until the end of time.” 

He was right in saying that society was inevitably doomed with the direction it was heading. That technology was the only solution, along with a world government. Matsumoto Optics. A cosmocracy with jurisdiction over the whole planet. There would be no wars. No conflict. And with only one state to call the shots, things could be done so much faster on a global scale. 

It was a radical concept to grasp, but you couldn’t say there was no logic to it. “Alfred was meant to do it with me. To reincarnate again and again as my closest aide on my quest to preserve the world. But he ended up being the opposite. My foil.” Matsumoto shook his head. “Alfred is a nostalgic soul. He’s too attached to the past. But the way of the old can never last with how fast it makes the world burn. Even if he realized that, he would want to exact revenge on me after what I’ve done to him.” 

“So before he destroys everything I’ve created, I have to destroy him first.” 

Him & I (with Halsey)

You tensed up all over, but before you could ask him what he meant by destroy, the doors burst open. The very subject of the conversation had appeared, and just in time for the conclusion of it. His arrival caught you completely off guard, successfully derailing your train of thought, but your father merely acknowledged his arrival. “Ah. Speak of the devil.” 

“Speak for yourself, you fucking demon.” He spat, marching over to your side to pull you into his chest. Immediately putting his hands all over your face, he was riddled with concern as he inspected you. “You okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. What are you still doing here? C’mon, let’s go.” While he reached down to your hand to lead you away, you stayed put. 

As relieved as you were to see him here, you couldn’t follow him out yet. You gave his hand a squeeze, then a soft smile of reassurance. Then, you turned to your father. 

This time, you held him in a firm stare. 

“Even if everyone thinks you’re crazy, I always knew you’d have some kind of justification for everything.” You started. Little did you know, you would take back this statement in the very near future. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to Alfred. He never ended up doing anything you wanted him to, so giving him all those adjustments was pointless for you. But not for him. If you wanted to get rid of him, it wouldn't be easy.”

Matsumoto closed his eyes as if to agree. That was what you interpreted it as, at least. But unbeknownst to you, he was doing anything but. “I wouldn’t know what’s best for this world.” 

“But what I do know is that I won’t let you hurt him.” 

You spoke those words with a conviction so strong, Alfred’s eyes widened when he heard it. It wasn’t news you cared deeply for him, but to hear you say it to your father like that, and Matsumoto, no less, it made his mechanical heart pound more than he could fathom. You were actively disobeying him, a man you previously revolved your life around, for his sake. To say he was infatuated would be an understatement. 

You felt his grip on you tighten. 

“Say what you will, and I’ll respect your conviction. But I will come for him.” The bearded man murmured in a foreboding tone. A sinister light glinted in his dark gray irises. “And in the most unexpected way he could ever imagine. You will never want to see me again when that happens.” 

“If.” Your voice was a little strained. As much as you wanted to hate him and move on, you couldn’t. Every single fiber of your being was urging you to find a reason, any reason, to not despise the man who raised you. “If, dad. Because if you did, I really will never forgive you. I’ll hate you forever.” 

A grim expression contorted at his face. In his many decades on the planet, he’d never felt more dread. But one had to wonder if that was the right word. The regret had already arrived, because he’d already done something unforgivable. It was only a matter of time before you’d find out. “I’ve already done something to earn your unconditional hatred, child.” 

That was right. He’d killed Allen, your best friend and only other semblance of family in your life. And perhaps, the person you held the closest to your heart. “Soon, you will learn what it is. So I’ll let you leave today because you will never want to come back. I’d imagine that to be more… Convenient for you.” 

It was only your ignorance that blessed him this last moment. The last moment where you’d see him as your father with eyes unclouded by hatred. But it was short-lived. 

It didn’t take long for you to put two and two together, and in your short silence, you came to remember someone that had been gone for a while. Allen. 

Atlantis

You woke up in a cold sweat. For just one measly second as you oriented yourself, you weren’t tortured by a fury. Betrayal. Disgust. But it all came rushing back to you like the memories of that Godforsaken day you met with your father.

Sitting up with a deep frown, you felt heat build up around your face. It would be etched in your mind forever. The memory of Allen laying in the dump. Tossed out like a broken toy. Then, the stench of blood and rust as he was left for dead. 

You always knew your father was mad, but he kept on surprising you with how mad he was. Turning to the figure beside you, tears only overwhelmed your waterline to see his chest rise and fall steadily. 

He was still here. Alive and well. You could only hope the same for Allen.

It had been ten days since the heist. There hadn’t been a single sign of Matsumoto or his men, meaning Alfred really did do his research on the best places to hide. Climbing onto his form, you wound up laying on his chest. Then, you peered down at his sleeping face. 

As you got comfortable, you felt a smile creep onto your lips. If the you from a few months ago saw what you were doing, she’d be flabbergasted. Since when did you like him this much? 

Your cheeks grew a little rosy as you became self-aware of the position you were in. Full-on embarrassment hit you when he began to stir, but before you could get off of him, his eyes fluttered open. Uh oh. Now this warranted an explanation. 

For a second, he was confused, but when he saw that it was just you, he grinned lazily. “Morning, babe. Care to tell me why you’re not sleeping on your side of the bed?” 

He’d totally cornered you. And did he just call you babe? “Um... I, well... I woke up on you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I was just about to get off.” Sliding yourself off of him at that, you tried your damndest to simmer down. But he never gave you the chance. Rolling over to face you, he pulled you in around your waist much to your surprise. “Hey!” 

You never got around to pointing out that pet name, either. 

He caught you in a serious stare. “Don’t be so shy. We’re close, aren’t we?” Alfred was never one to beat around the bush. You knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t mean you were used to it. Lowering your head at that, you fixated on his chest. 

“... I guess so. That doesn’t mean I can sleep on you like that, though. And plus, it must’ve been uncomfortable.” 

“Nah. You’re light as hell.” He hummed. Sitting up with you on his lap, his statement became more apparent in how effortless he made it seem. “You’re like a few grapes, really. So don’t worry about it.” 

Why he chose to focus on that part of your argument was beyond you. Did he really not see anything wrong with what you were doing? Or maybe he did, and didn’t want to mention it. He’d been hugging you a lot lately the past week, but that wasn’t as deserving of your attention as spooning you while he slept. 

Wasn’t he pushing the envelope? It would make sense he was just trying to comfort you after your run-in with your father, and your discovery that he was the one who attempted to off your best friend. But wasn’t this a bit much? 

He wrapped his arms around your neck. There was nothing between you both, and yet, he was holding you like there was. Like you were his. 

"...” It was in his smile. It was different to how he always looked at you, as if there was finally something behind those electric blue irises. Something alive. Something hot. As you played around with the idea, you lit up like a Christmas tree and pushed his mouth away. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

Almost as if he read your mind, he relented. But only reluctantly. Picking you up from under your arms, he set you onto the mattress so he could get out of bed. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he gave your cheek an affectionate pinch. “Whatever you say. I’ll be back after a piss.” 

When he left the room, you were left to your own devices. As you brought your knees to your chest, you came to realize how tight it was. He’d only left for a few seconds, and you were already waiting for him to return. It was ridiculous to think about, but it was almost as if you missed him. Already.

Did spending all this time with him give you some kind of separation anxiety? 

Or was it something more? 

You couldn’t tell. 

The fact that he mentioned ‘I’ll be back’ suggested he was aware of your attachment to him. You buried your face into your knees. 

Turns out, you weren’t the only one having a hard time processing your feelings. 

When he disappeared into the bathroom, he pressed his back against the wall. Reaching up to his chest, he scrunched up a part of his shirt as the pounding in his heart subsided--his metaphorical one. Alfred didn’t think it was weird to find you on top of him like that, let alone dislike it. In fact, he loved it. It gave him a shred of hope that maybe, you did like him the way he liked you. 

But that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t be with you. 

This was the fifth motel he’d been to after the heist. There was no saying he’d be dead by the end of the day. Not when your father was after his head. So he wasn’t about to start anything. That would be too selfish, even for him--though one had to wonder if ‘selfish’ could even describe him anymore. He was anything but. At least, for you he wasn’t. 

Alfred would only be proven right when he took a step towards the toilet. His vision started to glitch. Then, he lost his balance, falling over the sink and slamming his head against the mirror. “Fuck--!” Stumbling back onto his feet, he was engulfed in black for a few seconds. What the hell was going on? 

His bout of disorientation lasted for far too long to be normal.

Before he would start accepting the prospect of going blind, his vision returned. He thought he would celebrate that moment, but he forgot what he was even fussing about. What happened? Lowering his gaze to his hands, he stared at them for a while before looking back up. What was he doing here? Where was he? 

That was right. He was in a motel. With you. Running away from uncertain death. It took a minute or so to recall all of these things, and that was what alarmed him. It seemed like his body wasn’t accepting the chip very well. 

Temporary memory loss and blindness was just apart of the transition, right? 

Little did he know, it was anything but. 

Outside that very district sat two men in a car. Bags hung under their dull eyes as they scanned the streets as vigilantly as their sleep deprivation let them. It had been two days since they slept, but they wouldn’t rest until they found him. There were only four days until the damage was done.

If they didn’t get to the man before then, he would be as good as dead. 

[wildlittlefoxsworld]

Hey can you do a the old guard imagine about Andy x reader. Where the reader is immortal but ihas a younger doppelgänger and they team finds out and reader has to explain her family bloodline and all that jazz any questions message me. Thanks love the two imagines on the old guard so far. Keep up the good work.

Gene Recurrence | The Old Guard | Andy x Fem!Reader

Author's note: This was a very interesting request. I got instantly an idea and I hope you will like it.

Warnings: light smut, light angst, angry!Joe, fluff

Words: 2.6 k +

Masterlist

Sequel "Mornings in the Carribbean"

***

Vacation. Summer. Caribbean sun. Colorful cocktails. Your family. Your hot girlfriend. What did you need more?

A thin, white cloth was draped about your lower half of the body and your eyes still closed, you savoured how the warm wind felt on your skin.

That days were rarely, when you were just laying lazy in bed and having nothing to worry about.

You looked to your left side and noticed that Andy was still sleeping. You stayed silent, because Andy had a light sleep and you wanted her to rest. Her left arm laid across your stomach and her right served herself as a pillow. The actual pillows were shoved of the bed by her moving in the sleep.

“So beautiful,” you mumbled quietly and carassed Andy's cheek with your fingertips. A small smile started to spread on her lips and you knew she heard you. Andy opened her green eyes and wouldn't you have loved her already, you would fall for her all over again.

“You always say the right words,” Andy praised and shifted closer to you. Rolling your body to the side you were laying face to face. She raised her hand slowly to stroke over your hair and stopped in your neck. The grip was firm like everything about her, she was always ready to fight, but here with you. Here she could be soft and tender, despite you loved her sharpness and precision. She was a warrior in every aspect of her life.

Andy went straight for what she wanted and needed. Now she wanted to kiss you passionately, dragging you back on the mattress, making clear that she was in charge and you loved every second of it. You loved Andy for her careness in a authority way, always having the upper hand and yet she gave you everything you craved for. She hold you tight in her arms, kissed you in a way that aroused both of you and touched your skin with right strength or tenderness to drive you crazy.

The both of you ended up panting with her on top of you laying between your legs. Her mouth trailed down your throat and she sucked slightly on your skin. You gasped when she found your sweet stop, grazing her teeth over the sensitive area.

“Please,” you whispered and Andy knew excatly what you wanted, but before she could start regale your upper body with her kisses, there was a knock on your door.

“We go to the beach. Do you want to join or are you busy?” Nicky's voice came hushed from the hallway and Andy let her head sink on your breasts.

“Hurry up before the best sun lounger are occupied,” Joe shouted laughing. You heard their footsteps dissapearing after you told them you would follow soon. Andy groaned but hieved her body up to stand up, but you grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down. Andy quirkend an eyebrow and smirked when you shoved your hand under her shirt.

“Are you in the mood for a quick shower? Together? Then going to the beach?” Andy suggested and you were more than happy to let her picking you up.

The shower with Andy let to more than washing away the sweat from a hot night. You felt statisfied for the moment and Andy gave you a last lovingly kiss before leaving the bathroom.

You put on a simple white bikini and a yellow long skirt. With a bag over your shoulder and intertwined fingers with Andy, you went down to the beach near the hotel.

“Only fourty-five minutes, is that a new record, Nicky?” Joe mocked and the the both men laughed including Booker.

“We thought it would take at least two hours,” Booker chuckled and Andy rolled playfully her eyes while you slapped Booker on the back of the head lightly.

“Hey, and what about Joe?”

You looked over to the dark-haired man and he grinned triumphal. You shrugged and gave Joe the same treatment. Joe looked befuddled at you and wanted to say something. “Behave, my love,” Nicky warned him and gave him a meaningful look with a hint of a smile.

“Good Morning, Nicky,” you said warmhearted and kissed him on the cheek.

“Good morning, principessa,” he replied smiling and you sat down on your sun lounger next to Andy and Nicky.

“I get myself something to drink. Anyone wants something?” Booker asked in the round.

“An apple spritzer would be great,” you told him and he nodded. It would take him a few minutes to get your, Nicky's and his drinks.

Meanwhile Andy ordered your services in putting sun screen on her back.

When Booker came back his expression was bewildered and you frowned, because he nearly spilled the drinks. Nicky helped him while you were massaging Andy's shoulders.

“Are you alright?” you inquiried about his well-being and you got worried when he didn't stop starring at you.

“I saw a girl that looks excatly like you. First I thought it was you, but then I looked over to all of you and you were here. She wears a green jumpsuit and looks the same as you from hair to toe,” he explained in hurry and nearly chocked on his own tongue.

“I was sitting on my girlfriend's butt the whole time,” you commentend his words. “And there are many women here that has the same hair and skin color like me. Did you see her face from the front? Maybe she was just looking simliar to me.”

Booker searched for help by the others, but Joe just shrugged and Andy closed her eyes again, she wiggled underneath you to make you continuing with your massage.

“Are you sure you aren't just drunk?” Joe suggested and Booker shook his head furiously. For a second he seemed meditative, but then his head spinned around and he acted like he was searching for someone. “There she is. Still at the bar,” Booker proclaimed.

All of you stretched their necks and in this moment the woman turned around, it was like you were looking in a mirror.

“Yep, that's you, Y/N,” Nicky said deadpanned. In shock you couldn't move, couldn't tear away your eyes. She could be your twin, the same hair, eyes, face, heigh, body figure. But she looked younger. You had been close to your thirties when you first had died, she was probably in her early twenties.

Of course, your family watched you curiously and expecting an explanation maybe, but they weren't sure if you would have one.

Even Andy lifted her body up and studied the appearance of the young girl. “Interesting,” she mumbled and her head turned to you. But you were frozen in your position balancing on your shins. Andy observed you. It was clearly to her how shocked you must been, but something in your gaze got her perplexed. Your breathing increased and your hands were clenched to fists.

Andy rolled herself on her back underneath you and took your hands gently in hers. You got frightened for a second before you noticed it was only your beloved one.

“It's okay, darling. Why are you so tense? I can tell you aren't scared or atonished. This isn't new to you, right?” Andy asked carefully and you were taken aback. She knew you too well and rumbled you most of the time. Frustration grew inside you and let you groan loudly

“Fuck,” you cursed. Andy watched you worriedly and pulled you down on her lap. You scrunched your face in annoyance when she rubbed your back, trying to calm you down. Why did this happen now? It didn't happen in your whole immortal time and so you needn't to explain anything.

“She's your doppelgänger,” Joe murmered still confused.

“I know, Joe,” you said through gritted teeths.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Andy demanded and you sighed in defeat.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“Now I'm curious about it,” Joe exclaimed and folded his arms over his chest. Even Nicky showed interest, but he wasn't demanding like the others, he just wanted to understand.

“I descend from witches,” you began to speak and Nicky's widened in surprise and he exchanged looks with Joe.

“Witches? Like riding-a-broom-witches?” Booker asked shocked and laughed in disbelief. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“So, you are a witch?” Nicky tried to encourage you to tell further.

“I was a witch. I lost my powers after I had died the first time. Seemed nature doesn't allow more than one gift. And I never flew on a broom.” Your last words were full of fury over Booker's mocking tone. You hated that people always had prejudices about witches, but what should you say, people were always scared about supernatural things.

“What powers did you have?” Nicky shared his thoughts and you were glad that he stayed objective.

“Nothing special. I used spells to change weather for a good harvest or that someone found love. I brewed potions for simple illnesses or headaches. A few could more, a few were more powerful.”

“What do you mean? More powerful?” Booker was alarmed and you saw that your story scared him.

“Some could read minds or manipulate minds, able to control time or bring people back from the death, but that was only told. None of my family members could do that. It was simple magic we practiced and even at my time as a human our magic faded slowly away. Many of acient books and journals got lost in a fire when my grandma was a child. Only the knowlegde of basic magic survived and not everyone of us practiced magic.”

You didn't want to look in someones eyes, you were ashamed that you never told them the truth and you were sure they wereü mad at you.

“So witches are real,” Joe determined and stroked his beard. You nodded slowly.

Andy hugged you and you buried your face in the crook of her neck. “You are doing great, babe, you finally told them. I know it's hard, but it's better,” Andy soothed you and her words and presence helped you to calm down.

“You knew the whole time she was a witch?” Booker snorted and shook his head. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“It wasn't my story to tell and she was never a threat for us. She isn't a witch and I don't think she lied,” Andy explained firmly and lose her arms from around you. Gratefully you smiled at her and she mimicked it.

“In 700 years you didn't think once to mention that you were a witch,” Joe scolded reproachful.

“Don't overstate it. That's her past, Joe. It died with her and it wasn't important in her new life. And what she said… it seemed like her family never causes any harm towards humans,” Nicky tried to calm Joe down. He was always to patient, he tried to understand my situation and private motives not say anything.

“I know she would never hurt us and you know I love her like a sister. But she could've told us. She told Andy,” responded still a little angry.

“Do you remember how fast she bonded with Andy and Quynh, it's naturally that she told the people she trusted the most. Do you remember how suspicious she was towards men, it took us a decade to gain her complete trust. And then her past didn't matter, he left her family behind.”

Joe sighed in defeat when Nicky convinced him.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” Joe apologized, but you weren't mad and you had already forgiven him.

“That doesn't explain why you have a doppelgänger?” Booker remembered on the original topic and you nodded in agreement.

“A long time before my birth a powerful witch of my family wanted the witches to be stronger. My family weren't sure what she could really do, but she casted a spell that didn't end up like she wanted. It didn't make her or any of her sisters stronger. It only made the wisdom and knowledge surviving the centuries. The nature allowed us to be reborn, like an reincarnation. The soul came back to earth in a new life, but with the memories of her past lives. Not all memories, but the important ones to remember all the lessons the soul had learned.”

“You never told me that,” Andy mourned and you quirked an eyebrow.

“I did, but I only told you that I could be reborn. I didn't know that it's possible. I still have my soul, this woman isn't me, she can't remember anything from me or my past lives. But I can remember neither today, the memories faded over the centuries. I think the memories from past lives started to come back when I was sixteen or seventeen, but well… it's a long time ago.”

“That's an incredible story, Y/N, but it still doesn't explain why she is your doppelgänger. Is it possible that you can be reborn without your soul?” Joe considered and watched your doppelgänger, she was talking to few other women.

“The soul goes back to her origin one day, that's my grandma always told me. I could imagine it's only a gene recurrence. Something the nature couldn't fix, because I'm still alive. So the nature gave her or if there were more reincarnations; them a new soul.”

Andy listened attentive to your explanation and it was a lot to process. She knew that witches existed, a long time before she met you and she knew that their magic slowly disappered over the centuries. You were part of a family that originated powerful witches, but maybe the curse of reincarnations guranteed the long survive of the witches in your family. After you became part of this warrior family she never heard again of real witches, because with the witch trials in the medieval time the real witches went into hiding and maybe never showed up again, until today.

“Do you think she's a witch?” Andy asked you and you inclined your head. “I don't think so. If she would have powers, then she has two different eye colours or a piece of a different colour in one eye.”

“You have only one eye colour,” Booker mentioned unnecessarily.

“I know, it was gone after I lost my powers. Booker you saw her closer than we could have. Do you remember her eyes?”

“Only one colour,” he answered and you believed him.

“She could wear contact lenses,” Nicky considered and you shook your head. “It's rarely to have different eye colours. But for our peace of mind Booker could do a background check on her, if she's dangerous, we will find out.”

“I will do it, just for safety,” Booker agreed and took a sip from his drink.

Nicky smirked cynically. “And I thought we could have a uneventful week for once.”

“That's would be boring,” you responded sarcastically and you all laughed.

Booker found out that your descendant wasn't dangerous. You hadn't incommon much, besides your family name and appearance. She was born in the U.S., worked as a nurse and was married. Booker told you that your family emigrated in the eighteenth century from today's Germany in the U.S. and remained there until today.

You didn't care about the new informations. You only cared about your current family. Nicky and Joe, Booker, and of course Andy. You didn't regret being an immortal, you met the love of your life and you couldn't be happier.

“I was weird to see a person that looks exactly like you. Now I look at you and I can tell you aren't the same. You have an old burnt scar on your left hand and your muscles are defined. You are talented with the cross bow and your father's long sword. You always smile when you look at me and tell me how happy you are that you had met me. And I love you so much that I couldn't bear to lose you,” Andy whispered in your ear when she hugged you from behind in the middle of the night.

“I love you, too, Andromache.”

***

What do you think?

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

I recently read The Camp Half-Blood Confidential for the first time and while most of it made me cringe, there was one story in particular that really made me cringe: Space Could Be An Issue.

For those of you who haven’t read it, the premise of Space Could Be An Issue is this: Annabeth is in charge of designing and building the cabins for the children of minor gods/goddesses but it appears that there’s no space for all of them!

What is an architect to do?

Annabeth suggests treehouses or houseboats and both are shot down by Chiron, who says the nature spirits would never allow it. Good thing that there’s no spirit of grass or open field, otherwise they’d never be able to build anywhere, right? Annabeth suggests caves; because why not just dump all those extras in a cave. Chiron shoots her down again; there’s only one cave and it belongs to the Oracle. Damn. Well what about stacking the cabins on top of each other? Parents associated with the sky can be on top and parents associated with the ground can be at the bottom. What? That seems a little bit...classist? No. Of course not. The real reason that won’t work is because demigods can’t cohabitate. You heard it from Chiron! All of your ships are invalid because demigods of different “families” can’t live together in peace.

Never fear! For Annabeth is here to save the day! Her latest idea is for small and low profile tiny houses. Her words, not mine. (I was going to make a sarcastic comment here about how, after fighting a war for equality, it’s a good idea to put the “lesser” demigods in places that are small and low profile...until I realized that Annabeth wasn’t fighting a war for equality, she was fighting for the continued reign of the Gods and therefore inequality because she ultimately privileges from the system no matter how often she cries mommy issues).

Anyway...The tiny houses are two stories; with a living area that sleeps two, a bedroom loft that sleeps two, and a bathroom. So four demigods per tiny house. Somehow there’s storage beneath the beds in the living area, which are the kind that pull out of the couch. Not sure how that works since normally the bed goes in the “storage area” when it’s in couch mode. And there’s a single closet beneath the stairs for more storage. The bathroom is the coolest part of the whole thing but it’s never mentioned if there’s a shower in those bathrooms or just a toilet and sink.

If you put four of these tiny houses together, they’re the size of one major demigod cabin. Isn’t that so funny. How you need four tiny houses for demigods but can’t build a regular sized cabin. Ha! Hilarious!

Which brings up a question. How big are the original twelve cabins anyway? The Hermes Cabin is so over crowded that kids need to sleep on the floor. Poseidon’s Cabin has nothing but six bunk beds (and later a small saltwater fountain) in it. Meanwhile, the Athena Cabin has multiple smart boards, work desks, a library, and a small armory on top of the beds. They’re clearly not all made equal (and that’s not even getting into the fact that the Hermes Cabin is literally falling apart).

Why does the size of the Athena Cabin matter, though? It matters because none of the other cabins are used for anything other than sleeping and chilling when there aren’t activities. The Athena cabin is so disproportionately huge and ironically high tech compared to the other cabins (WHY DOES RICK HATE THE HERMES CABIN?!). Okay, but they’re using it as a school. Why would you use a cabin as a school room?! Because those kids are supposed to be “geniuses?” So they don’t have anywhere in camp to just relax? It’s always work, work, work for the Athena kids, huh?

Where would you put the school? Oh I don’t know. Maybe the Big House, which only ever has two people living in it despite being three stories tall and super wide and easily the biggest building on the property. Ah, the Big House, where the occupants are always outside on the porch and the only interior mentioned is a living space with a ping pong table, Chiron’s office, and the attic used to stash the Oracle and other useless shit no one wants to look at. Why in Hades would you put a school room there? Think of the ping pong table! Relax! It was just an idea.

Hang on, we’ll come back to this. Now I want to bring up the decorating of cabins. The tiny houses also have the ability to be decorated however the occupants want, with only a single touch, which means that maybe the demigods of Nemesis want neon green walls despite Nemesis having nothing to do with neon green. Or the children of Iris are going through a Goth phase and decide all the walls should be black. Why does that matter? Because all of the other cabins are decorated according to godly parent. The demigods who live in the major cabins are extremely limited in what they can do with decorating because of “tradition and respect.” In fact, Percy and Tyson only add two decorations to their cabin: the aforementioned saltwater fountain and hippocampus figures on the ceiling. Which are both related to Poseidon. Despite some of the major cabins having been rebuilt, they were rebuilt to be exactly the same as before.

Which leads us to two points:

1.) The cabins aren’t shrines to the gods. These cabins aren’t sacred temples to the gods. The gods don’t care what happens in them or to them. They don’t care if they’re broken or overcrowded. They don’t care if the kids are fucking in them or if they’re digging tunnels underneath them or putting curses on them. The gods already have statues of themselves everywhere and most of them have a separate place in Camp that could be considered to be “their” place (Hephaestus and the forges, anyone?).

2.) Hera and Artemis’ cabins should both be nixed completely. Hera, as a goddess who will never have demigod children, doesn’t need a cabin on principle. She only has a cabin out of politeness, not necessity. And I can hear your protests already but no, Artemis shouldn’t have a cabin either. Her hunters have magical tents that they live in every other day of the year except for the one day out of the summer that they stop by Camp Half-Blood. That’s two cabins that regularly stand empty - one 100% of the time and one 99% of the time - and take up valuable space for people who actually need it.

Speaking of cabins that are usually empty: Poseidon and Zeus dont have more than one or two kids at a time (despite Zeus being a slut) so their cabins don’t actually need to be as big as the other cabins. Percy mentions that upon arriving at Camp Half-Blood, there are a couple hundred kids. More than half of them “disappear” during the first winter. Some die over the course of the series. Then the camp gets a huge influx of demigods; both the ones that came from Kronos’ army because they were pardoned and the previously unclaimed demigods.

Annabeth suggested stacking cabins on top of each other, which is a stupid idea for so many reasons (only one of which is pointed out to her and I listed another one), but she was actually on to something.

Except instead of making each floor for a different group of Godlings, what if, hear me out now, you bulldoze every single Cabin. (You get a tent! You get a tent! No, just kidding about the tents unless you’re a hunter of Artemis.)

Bulldoze the existing Cabins so that you’re starting from scratch (Annabeth, take some damn notes). Rebuild without Hera and Artemis’ Cabins. You never know when Zeus and Poseidon are going to get horny now that they’re technically allowed to reproduce again, so make their Cabins the same size as all the others (if you must). Rebuild the Cabins so that they’re a smidge narrower and a lot taller. That’s right! Slap two or three floors on top of those suckers! Make! Everyone! Fit! Give! Them! Space! No! More! Sleeping! On! The! Floor!

But what about the disabled - THERE ARE NO DISABLED DEMIGODS. Not even a single one! Everyone can climb stairs! Everyone! All the time!

Well that’s...true (and ableist) but what about Chiron? Shouldn’t he be able to get into the cabins? Chiron already can’t get into the cabins. He couldn’t get into the original twelve, he can’t get into any of the new ones.

Which brings me to the final, and possibly most important point. GIVE THESE KIDS PRIVATE BATHROOMS FOR FUCKS SAKE! If everyone thinks it’s a good idea for the tiny houses to have “personal” bathrooms, then give them to all of the cabins. No more communal showers! No more hazing other campers in the public toilets! No more getting eaten by harpies because you had to pee after curfew!

This way everyone is equal. No one has a better space or more space than anyone else. Everyone gets to decorate how they want. No one is going to die on the way to the bathroom. Because even though the war was ultimately about maintaining the status quo, Percy and Luke both said “no, this isn’t right and too many are suffering because of it and things need to change.” One traded his life for it, the other traded immortality for it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[tripstaysnoided]

Flow Just Like Water

Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

[intelligentdumbass]

No I Cannot Get a Break(Part2)

(The first part’s over here)

“Athena? Have you seen Apollo?”

The grey-eyed goddess raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t he with you?”                                                                              

“Yes, but that was an hour ago.” Calliope frowned. “Hermes ran off to look for him but he hasn’t come back yet-”

Just then, two immortals came running out of the trees; it was the two gods that the muse was looking for. She immediately rushed towards them and inquired as to what had happened; Athena was about to do the same when her father’s voice thundered across the garden.

“AH-” “What’s this??” On his hand, he held out a fruit made out of pure gold. It had stuck him right on the face while he was chatting with his siblings, just like the messenger before him.

“Father.” Apollo suddenly spoke up and stared; one of his eyes twitching. “Father please, for the love of Troy, throw that into Tartarus!”

Before Zeus could respond, the apple was already gone; snatched out of his hands by the god of love. His wings instantly threw him up into air as he curiously stared at the fruit of gold.

“Pft, what’s wrong sunshine? Why so stressed?” Eros grinned mockingly at the sun deity. “Tis’ just a yellow apple with a few words craved onto it.” He cleared his throat in preparation to read the inscription. “To the fairest goddess of them all!”

Athena could’ve sworn Apollo’s fingers were twitching like he wanted to break Eros’ neck. Calliope and Hermes seemed to be holding him back; trying to calm him down. She gazed back at her father, who was just a tiny bit drunk, and he looked both confused and slightly concerned. This surprising turn of events had gotten a lot of the other immortals’ attention; even Artemis had took notice and quickly sped towards her twin.

Meanwhile Eros had flown over to his mother and exclaimed, “Well, well, well… I guess we all know who this trophy belongs to then now, don’t we?”

Aphrodite smiled, flattered by her son’s compliment. Just before she was handed the prize, however, a spear came hurling out of nowhere; piercing the fruit and pinning it against one of the trees.

“Wait.” Athena’s voice was commanding; briefly glancing back at her distraught younger brother. “This all feels a little off. Where did that apple even come from?”

Eros rolled his eyes. “Don’t know; don’t care Misses killjoy.” He flew over to retrieve the fruit; tossing the spear aside.

“I can assure you that I sense nothing of the like, no malicious auras or weird obscure magic, at least, not on the apple itself. If anything, this is probably just some secret admirer trying to praise their idol.” He smiled, but it was the kind of smile that proves he had a suspicion that wasn’t the case at all. “Besides, why do you care? Don’t tell me that this trophy was meant for you instead?”

“What-” “No!” The goddess seemed appalled that he would even consider that to be a possibility.

Then there was a loud sigh. It was from Hera.

“If that truly is why the apple exists,” She said. “Then for all you know it might’ve been intended for me instead. It landed very close to me after all; specifically onto my husband’s face. Maybe they just had bad aim?” It was hard to tell whether or not she was joking (‘She’s most likely joking’ Athena thought), but even Poseidon muttered against his breath that she did have a point.

Aphrodite just smiled. “Then why don’t we let the king of the gods decide?” She nodded at her son, who gave the fruit back to the lightning-bearer. “Tell us my lord, who do you think deserves to be awarded with the title of the fairest goddess of them all?”

Zeus blinked. “I…” “You want me to choose between you, Athena and Hera? With all of my possible biases I think I would be the least fitting judge for that matter.” He was still uneasy about his eldest son’s reaction; even quickly glancing back to make sure he wasn’t having a panic attack amidst all of this.

‘If only he hadn’t blocked my voice from his head.’ He thought. ‘Then I would know what’s bothering him so much.’

On the other hand, now that he was holding it again, Eros seemed to be right. It looked and felt like a normal and harmless shiny apple; a very pretty one at that.

“Let a mortal who is not part of any of your cults decide, and swear not to endanger their life over some trivial matter such as this.”

Aphrodite peered off the edge; her gaze landing on a young prince of Troy. “I think I already know who.”

Eros took the golden apple and flew down onto the earth. She motioned to the two goddesses to follow as well before morphing into a dove; flying just behind her son.

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

Paris stared at the three deities standing before him. At this rate, it looked like he was too shocked to be able to choose anyone at all. Athena internally sighed, wondering how she got herself involved into this mess.

“Okay well, how about this.” Aphrodite pondered for a moment. “If you choose me, I’ll give you the most beautiful mortal princess the world has ever laid their eyes on.”

Eros gave his mom a look, but she whispered to assure him that she was in fact not finding a way to get rid of Psyche.

Athena raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s just cheating-”

“Zeus never said anything against bribery~”

“In that case,” Hera said. “Choose me and you’ll get to rule the whole of Asia Minor.”

The war goddess thought that was an extremely irresponsible opportunity to give to someone as young as Paris, but then again maybe that was the point. She suddenly felt a little bad for the young prince.

“If you choose me, I can give you unlimited wisdom and glory in war.”

She could’ve sworn she heard Aphrodite curse. However, defying most of their expectations, Paris uttered the words, “I choose Aphrodite” and awarded the golden apple to the goddess of love.

‘Oh. Well, I tried to give him the least risky option.’

When she got back to the main event, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. Despite the incident that had killed the mood a few minutes ago, the party seemed to be back in full swing. She noticed one key difference though. Athena walked over to some of the muses; giving Clio a gentle tap on the shoulder.

“Where’s Phoebus?"

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

Apparently Apollo disappeared when they weren’t looking, so Hermes, Artemis and Dionysus had gone off to go look for him in the depths of the garden.

“I tried to approach him, but he wouldn’t even look at me.” Zeus sighed. “And I am still not able to hear his thoughts.”

“Don’t worry, if I see him I’ll try to talk to him.”

“…please do.”

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

There were already three gods searching for him among the trees, so she figured she might as well try looking inside the palace itself. Besides, if he really wanted to be left alone, he might’ve tried hiding somewhere else, far from where Hermes last found him. Plus, she had a few spots in mind that she could try checking out.

The silence was eerie, but also oddly comforting. There was nothing but the soft hollow thumps of her steps as she walked through the empty halls. As luck would have it, it didn’t take long for her to finally spot the god sitting on the railing of a certain balcony, the one that even their father himself often stood on.  

The blonde was tense, but when he turned around and saw Athena, he started to relax.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your steps scared kind of scared me. I thought I was having another vision for a second there… I mean, you are the real Athena right?” He laughed, but his breath was more than a little shaky.

“Of course I am the real Pallas Athena. Who else would I be?”

She allowed a full minute to pass by to let him fully process her statement to be true before moving to stand right next to him.

“What’re you doing here?” Apollo asked.

“I wanted a break from the party.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He paused. “You sure it’s not because you’re salty about the golden apple?”

Athena scoffed. “Don’t even think about trying to tease me. Why on earth would I care that much about some accursed fruit?”

“Aw, don't worry Athe. If I were him, I would've definitely chosen your deal instead."

"Well, of course, no surprise there. You choose what you don’t have after all."

“Wha-” “I was trying to cheer you up and this is what you do to me?!"

"So, you admit that what I just said is true?"

He had his hand over his chest as if he were offended; that forced smile on his face feeling just a little bit more genuine, until it slowly dropped entirely.

“Paris fucked up, Athena. Paris really fucked up.” He sighs. “Do you still remember their oaths?”

“Helen’s suitors?” She thought for a moment. “Apollo, I doubt Paris would still want to keep her after seeing the army that comes after-”

“But he will.” His voice suddenly hardened. “And he’ll keep her for over 10 fucking years and will become the torch that burns his city down to a crisp.”

Her tone softened. “How much did you see?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that Thetis is about to give birth to one of the greatest warriors in recorded history and-” “and-” He suddenly stopped, stuttering.

Athena placed a steady hand on his shoulder, as if he might fall.

Apollo’s grip on the railing tightened. “I-” “I don’t want to lose another one, Athena. Not now, it’s too fucking soon I literally just watched Asclepius-” The tears started trailing down his cheeks until they dissipated into thin air as a whiff of steam. “I just want a fucking break!”

There was a long pause before he continued.

“Why do I care so much?”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t. After all, I’m barely any better.”

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

“Athena?”

“Yes Phoebus?”

“What do you think dad’s going to do about this?”

“…I don’t know.” ------------------

“Apollo?”

“Hm?”

“Do you hate him?”

“…sometimes I wish I did”

“…”

“I-” “I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t be. I occasionally wished I did too, but it’ll never be that simple, no? Who would even replace him?”

“You?”

Athena laughed. “Weren’t you the one always asking to be his heir?”

“I was a very stupid toddler back then, hell, probably still am now. I mean, don’t tell me you actually trust me to run this thing?”

“True. I don’t blame you for not believing in yourself. Honestly, I don’t either.”

“I-” “Wow, you couldn’t have at least sugar-coated it a little?”

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

“Hey Pal, maybe we could share the throne?”

Athena immediately made a face of disgust. “But then if we kept our titles as King and Queen, someone might assume we married each other.”

“Wow!” Apollo tried his best not to laugh. “I mean, I don’t want to marry you either but still, you make it look like being with me is a bad thing!”

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

“I-” “I don’t want to get rid of him Apollo...”

“…I know.”

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

For a few minutes, all they did was stare and enjoy the view; looking down at the earth like they owned everything that the light could touch. Then with a flick of her hand the goddess summoned her spear and slung her shield over her back.

“Apollo, get your bow.”

“Wait-” “What? Why?” It took a few moments for him to realize what she was suggesting. "Athe, no matter how much I try, you know I’ll never stand a chance against you in close combat-"

“I did say get your bow, not your sword, didn’t I? I mean, you’re welcome to try if you want.” Her eyes were taunting him. “Father invited almost every single deity to Thetis and Peleus' wedding in Olympus. Excluding the mortals, the rest of Greece should be fairly empty right now."

"...I guess a duel does sound fun.”

"It certainly does. Besides, you really look like you could use one right now."

"Did-” “Did you just insult me by calling me out of shape or am I just over thinking this and you're genuinely trying to cheer me up?"

"Maybe both."

“…Fine. Only a few conditions: no one uses the aegis or the masterbolt, and that you better be a hundred percent sure father isn’t watching us right now.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of him now, would we? I’m not that mean.”

After a few moments of consideration, Apollo summoned his signature bow and wore his golden quiver. Taking one last glance behind them to assure themselves that they were, in fact, alone; they went over the railing. It was faint and easy to miss, but when Athena saw the eager and determined look on his face, she couldn’t help but smile.

‘Now there's the arrogant bastard that I know.’

"Mt. Othrys?" She asked.

"Sure, the closer the more convenient.” He grinned. “Mt. Othrys it is.”

And so, they jumped off, straight into the abandoned ruins of a golden age long forgotten; landing in the middle of all of those towering columns and mighty slabs of black, the remains of their father’s decade long war.

[lusie-king]

Atone

This

Is the story

Of

A demon

With a halo

And an angel

Seeking sin

 Those who believe hell to be a wicked place never grew up there. It’s hard to see your origins as evil when they’re all you’ve ever known. It’s difficult to be afraid of the night creatures and dark monsters when they’re howls lulled you to sleep every night. It’s impossible not to crave the warmth of hellfire and scent of souls burning when, to you, they’re reminders of your upbringing. Of the only things in existence that have ever cared for you.

I was different from the start. My brothers and sisters would sneer at me with their sharp teeth and dark eyes, sneer at the glowing wisp atop my head between little horns. They’d mock my lack of wings and a pointed tail, though I liked not having a tail once I realized how they yanked on each other’s as a means of torment. I never let it get to me, though. Not the beatings nor the laughing nor the torment. I was always content with how the world made me, and though they teased me, I was the one who felt pity for them, and so I knew my differences did not stop at the surface. They were rooted deep within me. And it made me feel special. It made me feel unique.

He couldn’t believe how different he was by the end. A creature most holy in the beginning, with white feathers running along his back and robes of pure light covering his innocent form. His sisters and brothers and even his own father frowned upon the lack of aureole sitting softly above tufts of mousy hair. His appearance reminded them too much of mortality, and with mortality came sin. They never ridiculed him out loud, not like my family did, and that was somehow worse. At least I knew exactly what my siblings thought. He spent everyday wondering if they’d ever love him. He cursed the way the world made him, vowing with each sunrise to find his purpose and be the epitome of righteousness he thought he was meant to be. He never felt special. But he was unique.

The day he fell I remember like my own name. Never had I seen something so beautiful, so sacred grace this planet where I bided my time like I had an eternity of it. He claimed he’d find meaning here but I knew, as soon as I saw his face, I knew he didn’t come here on his own. And he couldn’t go back. I knew for the way he immediately threw himself to his knees and folded his hands in prayer, though I was certain no one was listening. No one but me.

I kept my distance, tucked behind a tree, watching with flitting eyes, staying absolutely still until he had run out of tears and his feathers drooped. Then, I emerged. The moment he sensed me, I slammed into the tree, his hand around my throat, my pointed teeth baring in the most sadistic way. His hand burned when it touched my body.

“How dare you look upon something so holy.” He spoke with a hiss.

I gripped his wrist, enjoying how his face twitched in pain. My touch burned too. His wrathful eyes softened when he saw what hovered above my head. What didn’t hover above his.

“What the…what is that?” His dark eyes searched me, realizing there were certain things missing. “What are you?”

“Exactly what you suspect.”

“Why are you here? You don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you.” I wriggled out from under his grasp. “I guess we have that in common.”

“You and I are nothing alike.” He didn’t touch me again.

“True.” I tilted my head. “The difference being, I can go home whenever I want.”

The rage returned. But I wasn’t afraid. Even when he grabbed me by the horn and dragged me away.

“As a soldier of heaven, it is my sworn duty to protect this mortal world from the likes of you.”

“Oh?” I crossed my arms, smirking as he pulled. “Why?”

“Why?” He scoffed. “What do you mean why? You know why, soulless beast!”

“I do not. I come up here to read. Things below get noisy like you wouldn’t believe. Up here, all is quiet. All is peaceful.”

“Peaceful?” His tone became bitter. “This place is anything but peaceful.” He let me go so he could look into my eyes. “This place is bloodshed and brutality and sin.”

“Sounds like Hell.”

“That…that…” Oh, he was furious.  “You know not of what you speak!”

I couldn’t keep the smug look from my face. “I do. And I know this place is also bright and calm and full of joy. Full of hope.”

“Sounds…” His voice softened. “Sounds like heaven.”

“Now that, I would not know.” I sat back down, a book materializing in my hands.

“You—you are not like the others I have encountered.”

“Nor are you.” I felt him staring at me.

He was quiet for a while, many racing thoughts brewing behind those dark eyes. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“You could make the best of it.”

He crouched beside me. “How?”

I thought for a moment. “Come with me.”

He hesitated, gazing down at me with wary eyes.

“Or remain alone in this field. Your choice.”

Reluctantly, he followed, suspicious glare never leaving the back of my head.

City lights were prettier than the stars, I thought. The way they twinkled so close, each a beacon to someone’s life. To a moment in time. We walked along the mortals, me a figment of their imagination melting in and out of the shadows, he a flash of light moving faster than their eyes could perceive.

“They’re disgusting, even you must agree!”

“I do not.” I shot him a sly look. “Nor do I think you truly believe that.”

The way he stared at them, taking every detail. Listening to their voices. To their pain.

“Nature is messy. But she doesn’t make mistakes.”

His fingers subconsciously ran through his hair, as if expecting something to dance over his head.

“Everything has balance,” I went on. “It’s magnificent.”

We watched a mother coo to her infant. We watched a boy push his sister into a puddle. We watched a scrawny dog graciously accept a handout. We watched a man steal from someone who had nothing.

“I don’t understand,” he growled.

“That’s the problem.” I shook my head. “You keep trying to understand but you can’t because no one can. This world is complicated, as it deserves to be. And those who try to fully comprehend it will drive themselves mad.”

“So what do I do?” He was begging. Desperate. Confused and hurt and my own heart, which I sometimes forgot I had, wrenched.

“Don’t try.” I looked into his innocent eyes. “Just do.”

I took his hand and pressed it to the cold building, letting him take in the marble. That was the beginning.

Gardenias. Purple clouds. Raspberries. Mortal laughter. Tights gowns and clacking heels. Pearls strung along exposed necks. Jewels dancing in chandelier light. Perfect sculptures, the ones where texture defies material.

Screams of pain. Damned souls. Old books. I bit my lip. A moonlit lake. Glittering fish. The smell of death. Flies around a carcass. Pomegranates and dirt blacker than charcoal. Mortal skulls. Hot tears. All this chaos, all this agony, and I still got to see his smile.

Coconut milk. The smell of oil paint. Green tea. Horseshoes on cobblestone sidewalks. Silver chains. He closed his eyes.

Neon lights. Throbbing music. Curling smoke and cigarette buds. Jean jackets. Bloodshot eyes and greasy hair. Doubts. Insomnia. Ecstasy, both kinds. Shaking restlessness. The sharpness of my horns. Scraped knees.

White shells. Footprints in wet sand. Boardwalks and docks. Ferris wheels. Worn down carousels. A swaying sailboat. White curtains fluttering around a windowsill. Shimmering ocean waves. Salt and seaweed sticky on the skin.

A sweet blonde mortal. Her soft lips against his skin. The way his breathing hitched. Glossy makeup. Streaks of shadow streaming down my face. Silk sheets. Whiskey and rum, hot in the throat. A tan-skinned boy. Rough hands running along immortal flesh, calling me a pretty thing, hating my pointed teeth.

Obsidian blades. Bruised knuckles. Split lips. Lost memories. Forgotten dreams. He said he’d never go back, given the chance. Sad smiles. The taste of blood. Clinking glasses. Sparkling champagne. I smiled and his eyes never left my face.

Wool shawls. Racing through the forest. I said they’d have to drag me back. Red and orange leaves fluttering around us. Hot apple cider. Cinnamon donuts. The ground crunched. Meaningless apologies. Bottled sunshine. He spread his wings, mismatched feathers fluttering in the breeze, towering over me. My heartbeat quickened.

He touched my hand and inhaled once when his skin burned. Then he touched me again, holy palms running down my face, down my neck, down my back, leaving ash in their wake. Panting. Dark eyes stared into mine, into the soul newly formed. He looked haunting, hair in his face. Red scratches stretched across his chiseled muscles. My claws skimmed his wings. They were softer than I imagined. My lips found his. He tasted of sin. Quiet moans. Squeezing flesh. Our fingers aligned. I no longer wondered what Heaven was like.

 I laid in his arms, far from the first time. Shadow against light. I never felt so real.

“I was touch starved all my life.” His voice was low. His fingers absentmindedly ran through my hair. “Meanwhile others couldn’t keep their hands off you.”

I tilted my head up. “And look at us now.”

“And look at us now.” He paused, deep in thought. “Is this a happy ending? Do we deserve that?”

“Why not?” I hugged him closer. He was almost found. “If you decide everything always had meaning, you no longer have to search for it.”

His cheek pressed against my temple. “You are hellfire with a halo. Something sacred in the most unholy way. There's nothing soft about your stone-cold heart and yet you hold me with the gentlest hands. When your lips, damp with blood and eyes, dark with sin, set themselves upon me I feel saved. I don't care about the taste of iron or solid black of your irises. All I know is I'd take your bruised knuckles over smooth flesh any day.” His voice trembled as he spoke, laying down all his cards. “Your demons are vast, but they do not exceed my own.”

“Everyone is fucked up in their own way,” I murmured, head on his chest. “And I think that’s beautiful.”

Time went on. His feathers frayed. The light between my horns faded. Neither of us cared. We walked among the mortals until mortality took over. Until his pure light dimmed and disappeared. Until my horns withered away. Until my claws softened and his wings became scars. My heart beat vigorously, in sync with his own. Our touch no longer burned. We were different. We were unique. We were something magnificent and foul. We were mortal. And I wanted those dark eyes to be all I’d ever known.

[schrijverr]

Dead Bride

When they get kidnapped it all goed differently. Nathan says he is the cop and gets murdered with a chainsaw. When he comes to he is put in the weddingdress that Kelly had been wearing. He had already been struggling with his gender and a comment from Curtis makes Nathan snap. Kelly and Simon go after him and in the end all five make up. It's sweet!

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: A bit negative about Queerness, but it gets resolved! Angst with happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You need to tell him you’re the undercover cop” Simon hissed to him, “If he kills you it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say,” Nathan snapped, “You’re not the one who has to be dismembered with a chainsaw.”

Simon shot him an intense look and Nathan rolled his eyes. “Sheez, fine.” he mumbled and then louder he said: “I’m him, I’m the undercover cop.”

The guy stopped advancing on Alisha and turned to him. He pulled him down to the ground and started up his chainsaw. Nathan knew he would survive this, but he also didn’t want it to happen, so he did what anyone would have done, he begged: “Please, you don’t have to do this. I can become a crooked cop, like do stuff for you. I don’t know, just don’t dismember me, please.”

He couldn’t see the others, but he heard Nikki say: “Why did he do that? Why aren’t you stopping him, this, it!”

And after that he heard Curtis tell her he is immortal and this is the best way to get out of here without anyone getting hurt. Yeah, sure, like he isn’t about to get very hurt. The guy doesn’t think about his words, just approaches with the chainsaw. “If you don’t want to be mentally scared forever, I’d recommend turning away.” he yelled over his shoulder.

He couldn’t check if anyone listened to him, because he received the first blow with the chainsaw. He screamed in agony for a hot second, before the darkness of death took him away.

When he came to he was met with five concerned faces from above. He waved at them and stretched a bit before sitting up and taking himself in. His orange jumpsuit was completely thorn up and bloodied and he felt very naked. He realized that he should probably make a joke or something to ease the others worries. He said: “Were you all watching me, naked, on the ground. I may be handsome, but that’s just freaky, ya perverts.”

He grinned widely as some rolled their eyes. “Are you gonna fucking help us or what?” Curtis said.

Nathan jumped up and let them all down. They were all stretching and rolling their muscles when Nathan said: “Does anyone have some clothes? I don’t want more community serves for public nudity.”

“Oh, yeah, wait you can have this.” Kelly said while pointing at the dress she was wearing.

Scandalized Nathan exclaimed: “I’m not wearing a wedding dress!” but as he said that he thought, I would like to wear that, no stop, she might hear you, idiot! … It looks very pretty, though.

Kelly looked at him with a suspicious glance, she had said it as a joke intending to give him her normal clothes after they had a laugh at him, but then she heard his thoughts. It seemed like he wanted to, but didn’t want anyone to know. She might have thought he was a dick, but they were close friends and she would never make fun of him for something he was really ashamed of. “Then you can be naked. I hate this dress and the fact that that weird dude made me wear it. I’m taking this off and I’m not spending another moment in it. You can be naked or wear the fucking dress, yeah.” she said.

Nathan frowned unsure of what to do. On one hand he really wanted to and she had given him a good reason to do it, but on the other hand he was scared of what everyone would think and he had a reputation as a dick to uphold. It was Alisha who made the decision for him in the end. Kelly was out of the dress and Alisha pushed it in his hands and said: “Just put the fucking dress on, it’s not the end of the world.”

He sighed dramatically, but was grateful on the inside as he put it on. It was softer than he was expecting and it felt nice. He felt ashamed that he thought that, but he had always been drawn to womens clothing. For a while he had played with the thought that he might be a girl, but he had dismissed that when he was looking for terms for that. He had also considered other labels like genderfluid or gender-neutral, but none of it fit. He was just a boy who thought womens clothing were nicer than mens and wondered how it would be to wear a skirt, a dress, some make up or heels, like a freak. He didn’t really have time to ravel in the feeling of wearing the dress, because the others were already walking out, so he hurried after them, ignoring the giddy feeling in his chest.

As they were walking down the streets Nathan kept his head down while the others were discussing what to do now. Curtis and Simon wanted to go after the guy, but the girls agreed that it wasn’t their business now that he had finally left them alone. “What do you think, Nathan? You’ve been kind of quiet.” Kelly asked.

Nathan shrugged and said: “If people hear my suave and manly voice they will look, besides I already died horrible once, I do not need that another time.”

“What does that matter. You’re immortal.” Curtis said.

Nathan rolled his eyes and said: “Yeah, I know that. I get murdered a lot if you hadn’t noticed, but just because I come back doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt like a bitch. You try getting your bones sawed in pieces, it’s not fun, dickhead.”

Curtis laughed a bit while looking a bit guilty. “What’s so funny, asshole.” Nathan snapped defensively. He hadn’t lied when he said it hurt, and it hurt even more that they didn’t seem to care how much dying hurt him.

“It’s nothing, just hard to take you seriously in that ridiculous dress.” Curtis chuckled, next to him Alisha nodded with a smirk, Nikki too, though she didn’t even know him.

Nathans heart dropped to his balls and the giddy feeling he had earlier disappeared as if a bubble had been burst in his chest as they laughed. He felt tears burning in his eyes, but he didn’t let it show. He knew this would happen, he knew they would laugh, would think he was weird and it wasn’t even his own choice. Angrily he yelled: “Well fuck you too. It’s not like I wanted to be in this dress, twat. I’m sorry my appearance stops you form taking me serious as I tell you it fucking hurts and it’s not fun to die, you fucking asshole. I didn’t ask for this.”

He didn’t know at what that last statement was directed, but he didn’t care. He could feel the tears fighting to get out, so he did the only thing he could. He ran. He didn’t look back and he didn’t watch out for cars. What does it matter if I get hit, he thought bitterly, I’m immortal.

Back at the street corner a confused Curtis asked: “What just happened?”

Kelly slapped him and said: “You were an asshole.”

“What did I even do. You saw how strange that dress looked and then he was being all serious and stuff, Nathan can’t be serious. He never gets like this, no matter what we say, how was I supposed to expect this?” He said.

Alisha agreed with him and Kelly rolled her eyes. “I get that, just you can think, yeah. He was dead serious. Message was clear, he don’t like dying. I’ll go after him with Simon, you lot stay away from him for a while.”

“Why am I going with you?” Simon asked kind of scared.

“Because you didn’t laugh and he likes you. I’m not going alone, now come on, yeah.” then Kelly was walking away, Simon scrambling after her.

The three left looked at each other. Alisha asked: “We still need to get our stuff”

Curtis nodded and they went on, in a slower pace, bringing Nikki home first.

Meanwhile the community center was coming in sight for Nathan. He had been running for a while now and he realized how fucking he weird he must have looked to everyone. There he was, a boy in a wedding dress, and if that wasn’t weird enough he and the dress were also covered in blood and he was crying. What a sissy I am, he thought. He tried to open the front door, but found it locked. He cursed, he hadn’t realized how late it was. He tried his window, but with the dress he was too big to fit through. Logically he knew that he could take it off, but he felt he really didn’t want to. This was the best reason to wear a dress he would ever get and he hadn’t had the time to really sort out how he was feeling about it.

He looked down and petted the dress. It was soft and it flowed nicely around him. He twirled a bit and smiled as the dress twirled prettily with him. He fondled the dress some more and realized that he felt pretty. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt pretty and that thought suddenly made him cry again. He sagged to the ground right under his window and cried. He pulled his knees to his chest and played with the hems of the dress as sobs raked through his body.

That was how Simon and Kelly found him. They stopped in their tracks and tried to decide to do what to do. In the end they decided on sitting down next to him. Both on opposite sides with Nathan in the middle. Kelly wrapped an arm around him which made him shake of his trance as he got startled. He wanted to get away, but bumped into Simon. He quickly wiped at his eyes and slapped on one of the most fake smiles they had ever seen. He joked: “Come to tell me how radiant of a bride I would be.”

It didn’t land. Kelly just smiled at him and said: “Yes, you look very pretty in the dress, Nathan. Sorry about Curtis, he’s a bit oblivious.”

Nathans face got vulnerable as the fake smile crumbled and he let out a wet chuckle and said: “Just because you can read minds, doesn’t mean everyone is oblivious. He saw the truth and said it. I’m being stupid over nothing.”

“My mum, says that if you’re crying over it, it can’t be stupid.” Simon said.

Kelly nodded and Nathan looked down. He didn’t make a jab at how Simon was a mummies boy or  anything. It was concerning. Kelly broke the silence: “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About dying or me still being in this, this stupid dress.” Nathan said quietly.

“Which one you want.” Kelly answered and Simon nodded.

“I’m not trans or anything like that, it just, just makes me feel pretty.” it was quiet and if you weren’t paying attention you would have missed it.

“Dresses make me feel pretty too.” Kelly said, “When I was little I would steel my mums heels, yeah, and walk around in a dress we had for dress up and I would feel like a queen. It is dead nice.”

Nathan nodded: “Yeah, this is the first time I had to guts to actually put something like this on. I stole a lipstick and some mascara, but I never did anything with it. I was too scared and confused, you know.”

Both nodded, they could understand that, the world wasn’t very accepting of these kinds of things and people in this neighborhood could get rough easily, and from what they had gathered Nathan had grown up religious.

“Well, if you want to feel pretty then you should be able to.” Simon said.

“Yeah, they’re just idiots. If they give you shit I’ll just beat them up, but I don’t think they will. Alisha is always begging to let her do my make-up, if you tell her I’m sure she would want to do yours.” Kelly smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Thank you.” Nathan chocked, “I needed that.”

He leaned his head on Simons shoulder and pulled Kelly closer. They sat like that for a while, before the emotional exhaustion and comfort of friends lulled Nathan to sleep. After about ten minutes Curtis and Alisha arrived. Kelly noticed them first and left Nathan in Simons care as she walked to them to have a stern chat with them.

“Hey, Kelly.” Curtis said, he noticed Nathan and Simon in the background and asked: “He still in that dress? I thought he would be out of it by now.”

“We’re gonna talk and this can end in everyone being happy or a fist in your face, yeah. Sit.” She said.

The two sat at the table and Kelly began: “Don’t interrupt me, I’m being dead serious. So, Nathan likes to wear womens stuff, you hurt him. He’s not trans or any of that crap. It makes him feel pretty. Alisha you can get that, make-up and dresses make you feel pretty, right?” Alisha nodded, understanding slipping onto her face. “Curtis, you didn’t realize this, but when you laughed at him for the dress, you were his biggest fear come to life. You hurt him and you should apologize, if you can’t accept him you won’t be able to do community services with us, yeah?”

She looked him in the eye and he got it, she could see it in his eyes and she nodded, he nodded back. “I didn’t realize, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I knew what kind of shit he can be put through because of this and I don’t want that for him, he’s my friend.” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t want that for him either, besides it will be fun to have someone to talk to about make-up other than you. You’re shit at it.” Alisha said the last thing with a smirk and Kelly knew it was a joke and rolled her eyes at them, relieved.

“You really mean that?” came an unsure voice from the side.

They turned and saw Nathan standing next to Simon. Kelly listen and heard Simon think, he’s heard  from you asking if make-up and stuff make Alisha feel pretty, on a loop. She nodded that she heard and he nodded back.

Alisha and Curtis both nodded and Alisha hugged him while apologizing. Nathan hugged back, careful not to touch bare skin. Curtis apologized as well and they were all happy and relieved when a genuine smile broke through on Nathans features and he joked that he would soon be he prettiest of them all.

The next day he had his normal attire on, but Alisha had brought long gloves so that she could give him purple eyeshadow, mascara, liner and glittery lips. He wouldn’t stop smiling the entire day and he was nicer than before, like he didn’t have to make up for something. Everyone was glad to see him this happy.

[yesokayiknow]

firstly, 18 + 21 and dinahsiren, secondly, good fucking luck and you're welcome

18 Circus AU + 21 Dystopian AU 

(i hate you)

so. the world is a dangerous place. the immortal council of four rules over all with an iron fist: damian darkh and his fanatical ghosts; eobard thawne’s ever watching technology; ricardo diaz and his invisible web of informants; and mallus and his insidious magic.

years later, laurel lance is in court, fighting for a client that she already knows will be found guilty by the rigged system. she’s reading her closing statement when her arm starts to burn.

laurel, like everyone else, has grown up on the stories of the canaries: four women who are one day prophesised to overthrow the council, and, like everyone else, assumed the stories were just fairytales.

the still smarting canary mark burned into her arm looks pretty real though.

so she runs. jumps on and off trains until she finds sara, who collapses into her in relief at the sight of laurel’s arm. she reaches up and unwinds her scarf to reveal the still warm canary mark on the back of her neck.

the legend tells of four canaries for each of the four leaders, so they search for their other members. along the way, they pick up other stragglers and run into the rebel gangs: the hackers throwing digital roadblocks in thawne’s tracks; the vigilantes picking off darkh’s ghosts; the journalists outing diaz’ informants; the magicians countering mallus’ curses.

it takes them nearly a year before they stumble onto the third canary: a woman who tries to pick sara’s pocket, and who happens to have laurel’s face. the lances never told laurel she had a twin, or why they’d hidden that twin away with an old friend of the family. she knew about them though, and that the legends were true, and she shows them the canary on her ankle with slightly manic glee.

her first name is also dinah; they call her siren.

it’s one of the magicians who figures it out: not only did each of the three canaries’ marks appear at the same time, it happened when they were all at the corner of a square centering on the council’s main base. all they have to do is find who was at the other corner on that day.

unfortunately, there was a whole lot of people there at that time: the circus was in town.

sara, as the better interregator (in that she’s more intimidating than laurel but less impulsive than siren) goes out to track down every person who was in the audience, while laurel and siren investigate the circus itself. by going undercover. as performers

siren, looking at her costume: i mean is this dystopian nightmare really that bad

laurel, already pulling up her fishnets: yes

siren: okay but like. is it though

they’re acrobats. they’re not amazing, but their identicallness provides them with enough of a gimick that the ringmaster decides to give them a trial period. he shows them around the tent and introduces them to the other performers.

ringmaster: oh and this is dinah! she’s our knifethrower

dinah, idly flicking a knife in the air and catching it: and you are

siren: gay

siren asks one of the hackers to check for a familial link (because how many dinahs can there be) but there’s nothing. dinah drake is an ex-cop who quit her job and joined the circus after being kidnapped, and who just happens to have the same first name as the twins. siren seems very pleased about this. laurel tries not to think about why.

so, they continue to investigate the circus members while occasionally performing and exchanging updates with sara. meanwhile, siren and dinah get close, or as close as two emotionally repressed stubborn assholes can get. which uh. turns out to be pretty close.

siren: so it’s gotta be dinah right like her name is literally dinah

laurel: i’m pretty sure we need more than that

siren: also there’s a canary mark on her thigh

laurel: why didn’t you lead with- ....wait. how did you see her thigh??

siren: ok so let’s go back to the canary thing