#also if this looks wacky its cause i just came back from a night of drinking but at least i fit the theme

[alciedoodles]

part 1 of 7 - bar

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[ellinox]

Statement of Joe Knottim regarding an …

Statement Begins.

I suppose this all started sometime after I had found that old gramophone. I run the antique store in town, you see, and it’s basically my job description to collect odd and old unused things that I think I can turn a profit on, and give a second life to. And the gramophone was exactly that!

I spotted it peeking out from behind a dumpster on third street, while I was out on my break. I run the store alone, you see, so I could afford to take my sweet time walking back. It was caked in dust a smelling more than a little worse for wear, which wasn’t that unusual for the items I usually procure, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that it still seemed like it could fully function, no broken pieces or nothing!

I took it back with me to the shop, and cleaned it up. To my delight, it worked pretty dang great for something that was on its way to the dump, so I immediately made room for it on one of my shelves.

It sat there for, what, couldn’t have been more than a week, before I started noticing something was wrong.

At the stroke of 2pm, without fail, the gramophone would creak into tune, softly playing whatever classical record I had shoved on it when I’d first procured it. Every day, for about an hour, warbling out the same melodies as the day before, at such a low volume that I initially thought it was just my new neighbours having a go at me.

It wasn’t necessarily bothersome in anyway, but I did find it rather strange how on-the-dot it was with its repetition, especially considering I hadn’t left it plugged in… But, like I said, it wasn’t a bother so I just let it be.

That is, until it started screaming.

I remember it vividly. I was half asleep at the counter, as I’d had a strange bout of insomnia the night before, when the soothing lull of the quiet music halted abruptly. I only had a few seconds of stifled confusion when the silence was rapidly interrupted by an unbearable high pitched screeching. It was as though the delicate needle was scraping against some brittle glass, the high pitched whine nearly leaving me doubled over clutching my head as though I could will the loudness away.

I think I passed out not long after that, because when I came to, the sun had been substantially further along in the sky then when I had last looked.

Now, as you know, this town’s always been a bit kooky. Always dredging up things that have no reason to be dredged up. But this wasn’t the normal everyday kind of wacky. Y’hear?

I had left the stinking thing well alone after that, allowing it to continue its clockwork serenade that I had grown accustomed to. It’s just that, from that point forward, I had also purchased some ear wax to block out the occasional screaming. Because it did continue to do that. Every once in a while, with more and more frequency until that Big Day happened.

And it wasn’t just incoherent whines anymore, either! The pained keening was still there, sure, but so was the new addition of what I can only describe as really poor stage whispering. It was like listening to children try and keep a secret from you, all sly giggles and loud chitters. In truth, I probably would have been more freaked out if I could’ve understood what they were saying… but, as it stands, it was like hearing complete nonsensical gibberish.

Besides, by the time an even began registering the voices as… voices, I suppose- I already had bigger fish to fry.

On the floor, right behind the sales counter, was a crack.

It ran from the baseboard of the wall, along its length, before veering sharply into the walkway between the wall and counter. Normally, this wouldn’t be a big concern for me, as I had done my fair share of repair work in my own home, but something was different with this crack… For one, there was nothing that could have really caused it to appear in the first place, and two…. Well. It kept getting bigger.

I ignored it for as long as I could, but, when the crack widened into enough of a hole, it was rather unavoidable.

Which is to say, I didn’t really avoid it at all after that. Having accidentally stepped through it and nearly injuring myself in the process.

That’s the part that got me the most during that first tumble- the sudden weightless sensation of free fall as my foot cleared the entire floor.

For some clarification, my shop is on the ground level. There really wasn’t a floor available for my foot to have been able clear… yet, it still did. As I was sat there, I found I was able to completely swing my leg around, as though there was open space there. And once I had dragged my leg out of the deceptively deep hole, I took it upon myself to look down into it…

Initially, all I could see was only blackness- a sheer lack of light so pure I thought that, perhaps if I were to slip inside, it would be as though I had never existed in the light at all.

Evidently, I did not do that.

Anyhow, after that, I mostly stayed away from that part of the walkway, drifting further along the counter as the hole widened and followed… I had started to notice strange flashes of light and colour from deep within its bowels, from the times I’d glance over to see how much further I’d need to move away… And, at one point, I swear I even saw that flashing darkness bulge over the edges of the hole, as though trying to break free from the confines of the ground…

Yeah, I took to spending far more time outside the shop once that incident occurred. Procuring goods for my almost inevitable return to the shop, and the gaping map that was slowly swallowing it whole.

It was actually through these day trips out on the town that I started to fully notice how odd things had been getting lately. I had my little invasive hole in the floor, sure, but during that week leading up to The Big One, it was as though a roulette of random chance was spun at rapid speed, and it was a race to see what strange malady would occur the fastest. In that week alone, I was privy to the likes of chocolate rain, singing toadstools (they are so much worse than you think), spontaneous rampaging kittens, and fog so thick you could literally eat it (it wasn’t very good, it just tasted of burnt up ozone).

All those weird events leading up to the explosion… Really, I should have seen it coming!

Luckily for me, I was out of the shop the morning it had happened. Out on another stroll, pretending as though I hadn’t taken to doing business whilst sat atop my counter like a toddler.

I think everyone had HEARD the explosion, regardless of where they were in town at the time it happened. And, it’s funny, in retrospect, how loud it was for something that hadn’t even resulted in basically any injuries.

From what I gathered from my former neighbours, the explosion occurred at about 9am. It was a shock of dark, like an eclipse contained to second, and a wave of pure colour and light…

My shop didn’t make it, but somehow, the rest of the block did.

No one was hurt… which was possibly an even stranger turn of events than the pit that was left from the explosion… and that involved a whole smattering colourful and crystalline debris perfectly lining the bottom of what was once my show floor!

No one was harmed, and other than my prospects, things turned out fairly okay, I think.

We’re rebuilding the shop now, same location and everything. Turns out, when your lease explodes from under your feet, and you gain the potential to sue the everlasting hell out of the Town Council, said Council will feel enough pity and fear to just gift you the plot of land.

I heard their research team mention some further studies they wanted to do, so maybe they just want to appeal to my good graces or something… Not that I’m particularly inclined to go poking around what they dubbed as “The Rift”. Apparently this whole thing was a spatial anomaly of sorts- or, that’s the running theory at least. Still… it’s unfortunate that the anomaly took away the shop… and shockingly I find that I’m also missing that old gramophone of mine. I was just starting to get used to all the canary call shrieking.

Statement Ends.

Canary Notes:

⁃ is it possible that something like this is what is happening now?

⁃ I think I recall hearing about Glass Tinker’s floor acting up again recently… but they said it was just plumbing issue?

⁃ A spatial anomaly or rift… sounds sort of ludicrous, but is probably accurate the more I think about it…

⁃ How do you stop a hole in reality though? Perhaps more pressingly… why is this happening again?

[onebadwinter]

The Joker Tropes Part 2

Taken From Here and here

Nether Realm Studios especially seems to love making Joker out to be evil incarnate. In Injustice: Gods Among Us and its sequel, he loses all his cred (and life) once he nukes Metropolis; Harley ditches him entirely, Batman just completely gives up on indulging him any more, even Guest Fighters like Hellboy consider him worthless, and non-Batvillains such as Grodd and Brainiac and even Darkseid loathe him for either Metropolis, or just in general principle. Mortal Kombat 11 shows that even the MK cast see him as a scourge upon the realms, and also express distaste toward him for either his nuking, a previous outing, or because he's seen as a buffoon who cannot be taken seriously (this is usually the case for other villain characters).

About the only person who can tolerate him for long is Lex Luthor, only because they both have the same level of hatred for their respective enemies. Even then, Luthor prefers to keep his distance from the Joker, if only because a bored Joker screws with everything For the Evulz.

In the animated series, he claims to have been beaten as a child when interviewed by Harley Quinn. It is unknown if this is true. According to Batman, he's simply making it up.

In one issue of New 52, he claims to have been driven insane by an abusive grandmother, who also bleached his skin to its present pallor.

In the same continuity, he is one to a baby gorilla he adopts, trains up as a gun-wielding henchman, and ultimately gets killed off for laughs.

In the comic book adaptation of Injustice, it's implied Harley fears Joker would be one, and gives their daughter to her sister, lest he kill the child. It's left ambiguous whether the Joker's even aware of the ruse.

Averted in one story, wherein one of Arkham's doctors realizes Joker's faking insanity just to piss off Batman as revenge for his disfigurement. Another doctor finds the report and excitedly reveals it to the current head doctor, only to learn that  the Joker left it for everyone to read, since the paper's written by Harley Quinn, and therefore worthless as evidence.

In Batman: The Man Who Laughs, it's established that the name "The Joker" was given to him by the media, and he liked it so much that he decided to call himself that.

The same happens in Joker (2019), where Murray tells the audience to "look at this joker" when talking about Arthur. Arthur took it to heart.

Batman: Arkham Knight takes this even further by revealing that being forgotten is the only thing the Joker truly fears.

Just to demonstrate how much disregard he has for his henchmen, a reoccurring motivation for offing his own lackeys is failing to laugh at one of his jokes. Or laughing too late. Or laughing for too long. Or laughing at the wrong joke. He's... unpredictable.

The Joker loves it when people laugh with him, whether genuine or not, but if someone laughs at him, they're most likely already dead.

Joker loves attention and being above the normals, so never imply that he's not interesting or unique. Terry exploits this flaw in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker just to drive him to a Villainous Breakdown.

The Batman Who Laughs. Since the character's first appearance in Dark Nights: Metal, the mere mention of him is enough to put The Joker in an uncharacteristically un-jolly mood and is a good way to get on his bad side. In fact, the dislike of this twisted version of his archnemesis is so great, that when Lex Luthor and The Legion of Doom started cooperating with him against Joker's protests, he quit the legion (after non-lethally jokerizing every other member of it) in disgust.

If you're going to hurt Batman, do it right. One of the supplementary stories for Joker War had him beyond furious with Bane - to the point of promising him he'd kill him in a way he would never see coming - for showing so little imagination in killing Alfred in City of Bane without even letting Batman listen to it to torture him. By his reckoning, if you have a great gag to break the Bat, use it to break the Bat - don't blow it by having Robin be the only one to witness it.

Originally Conrad Veidt from The Man Who Laughs.

Later portrayals base themselves on his actors, with Cesar Romero a popular candidate, and after Jack Nicholson came in, artists such as Alex Ross base him on him, such as the actor's distinct widow's peak and slicked back hair.

During Knightfall he and Scarecrow killed several members of a SWAT team, and one of his last actions in Batman: No Man's Land was to kill Commissioner Gordon's second wife, Lt. Sarah Essen.

One of the alternate realities seen in Zero Hour! was one where he killed Commissioner Gordon instead of crippling Barbara.

Part of the reason Gordon takes over the post of Commissioner in both The Dark Knight Trilogy and Batman: Arkham Series is due to the Joker killing Gillian Loeb. Additionally, the first game in the latter series, Asylum, he sees several of Arkham's guards killed by him and his men.

He's holding a dead cop's corpse in his intro in Injustice: Gods Among Us and using it as a puppet. He also talks to the body of one of the Regime enforcers who captured him once he breaks out and heads to Gotham.

Whether he was driven insane or was already insane and became completely bonkers.

Where he is on the spectrum between "wacky prankster" and "utterly depraved and sadistic sociopath and murderer".

Whether he is a senseless, performative terrorist wreaking havoc for kicks or a deceptively cunning and competent criminal mastermind. Or both. Usually both.

He's no Batman, but sometimes he is a proficient hand-to-hand combatant, Knife Nut or marksman, and other times a flimsy wimp who goes down in one punch. In some of the grittier settings, his raw strength, numbness to pain and viciousness are enough to level the playing field with Batman.

Whether he actually loves Harley Quinn varies. In the animated series, (where Harley first appeared) the writers haveoutright said he's a sociopath incapable of loving anyone, and just sees her as a useful mook. Some other works imply he really does love her on some level (although he's usually still an abusive asshole.)

He can either be Faux Affably Evil, Laughably Evil, just a Monster Clown, or some combination of the three.

At least one such incident implied he would be interested in Batman... but only after he was dead. Again this may only have been a tactic to get under Batman's skin or truthful admission. The readers will never know for certain.

His plot in The Killing Joke is to put Jim Gordon through the wringer hard in the hopes of driving him mad. He'll also try to drive Batman over the edge (particularly, drive him to break his "no killing" rule), sometimes by cutting off all of Batsy's human connections.

The Dark Knight reworks it into Driving Gotham To Senseless Violence with wanton acts of destruction or terrorism, just to prove everyone's as bad as him deep down.

Ironically, a 1952 story has the Joker get himself falsely committed to an insane asylum, to question a patient who knew the location of a cache of money. The end of the story has him Laughing Mad due to a prank Batman used to disguise his identity.

He didn't have his signature laugh. This seems to have been a way to "goofy up" the character to make him less terrifying in the days of the Comics Code Authority. Later on, he'd learn to giggle while remaining terrifying.

He actually committed crimes for moneynote , and wasn't really interested in causing chaos or terror for a joke's sake.

Building off of that, his plans weren't really "insane" until the Silver Age (at which point it's not even fair to say this was exclusive to him), nor was there any question of the character's mental stability.

His obsession with Batman wasn't there, much less the idea that he would pass up chances to kill the Bat or learn his identity. This aspect was probably introduced to explain the Bond Villain Stupidity he (and every Batman villain) had become infamous for in the Silver Age.

His clown-like complexion was actually makeup in his early appearances. He even removed his makeup to disguise himself as a cop, which was referenced in The Dark Knight. It's later revealed that the look is permanent after falling in a vat of chemicals.

The Brave and the Bold #111 and #191 have him team up with Batman to clear his name after being framed for several murders. The first instance turned out to simply be a framing the guilty part occasion but the second instance was actually genuine on Joker's part (except the person Joker seemingly murdered turned out to be faking their death).

He also does this with Batman whenever The Batman Who Laughs is involved (specifically in the Dark Knights: Metal series).

He abruptly ends a partnership with Red Skull when his Nazi affiliation comes out. Red Skull simply wonders why he is so surprised when he thinks that the Joker would make a great Nazi. The Joker is NOT happy about this, proclaiming "I may be a criminal lunatic, but I'm an American criminal lunatic!" It even provides the trope's image. And yes, folks, even an equal-opportunity murderer like the Joker despises the Nazis!note

The exception is mentioned again in the Last Laugh arc where the Joker immediately refused to join the American Neo-Nazi Aryan Alliance group in the Slab after he was offered membership. Joker: I'm evil and all that, but you guys are just plain mean.

Will not harm dumb animals and doesn't condone it. There's no humor to be had in that. Higher primates apparently do not qualify but a lot more effort went into that one.

While in Arkham with villain Warren White, AKA the Great White Shark, Joker calls him the worst person he ever met. He states that while he may kill people, even he doesn't steal their kids' college funds.

Sees nothing funny about someone parking in a handicap spot when they're not handicapped. However, he does think it's hilarious to hurt them in ways that will make certain they'll always be able to park there.

A girl named Janey Bennett, whose class was studying criminal behavior, became pen pals with the Joker while he was in Arkham. When Janey revealed that her father, the mayor of Motor City, was abusing her (exactly how isn't specified, though it was implied to have been really bad) the Joker broke out and, convinced that the authorities would be of no help, tried to force the mayor into admitting to his crimes and giving him Janey (so that he could find a better home for her) by threatening to contaminate the city's blood supply, going through with it (because the ends justify the means) when the mayor refused to give in to his demands. He originally intended to give her to Batman as well so he could protect her but at the end decided to give her to her mom. Joker: I mean, stealing a city blind is something I can admire... but being mean to one's own daughter... that just makes my blood boil.

For a rather literal form of "standard", the Joker's team-up with Carnage in Spider-Man and Batman: Disordered Minds fell apart in part because the Joker, known for his love of theatrics, found Kasady's desire to get straight to killing boring. Conversely, Kasady didn't like the Joker's flair for theatrics.

The Joker absolutely loathes The Batman Who Laughs, to the point where he drops his usual joking demeanor and is deathly serious whenever directly referring to him, even willing to work together with Batman to face him when it comes down to it. When Lex Luthor goes behind his back to make a deal with The Batman Who Laughs (going against the only condition Joker has for joining his plan), Joker responds by Joker-gassing the Legion of Doom, putting Lex into a series of deathtraps, trashing Lex's Power Armor, and quitting the Legion. In the process, he tells Luthor how he had planned on ruining the Legion utterly on the verge of victory, and as nightmarish as his plan sounded, he claims it is nothing compared to what the Batman Who Laughs is going to do.

While he still gloated about it and found Commissioner Gordon kneecapping him funny after remember that he'd crippled Barbara, the actual act of killing Sarah Essen in the penultimate issue of Batman: No Man's Land is one of the few times the Joker wasn't happy with something he himself did, considering he's seen walking away while scowling afterward, leaves the babies he originally planned to murder unharmed and immediately turns himself in to the police.

Emperor Joker sees the Joker disgusted with a corrupted Jimmy O Lsen tormenting the Superfamily and Batman when they're turned int animals.

Later one he is disgusted when his minions vandalize the Moai on Eastern Island.

Again, when he rescues Lex from The Batman Who Laugh's infected minions in Hell Arisen, the mere mention of his alternate universe rival prompts him to have a very uncharacteristic Freak Out. The Joker: I told you. I told you not to deal with him. You should have shot that thing in the head the second you had it in a cage! It is wrong. It is a wrong thing.

Played more straight in his relationship with Punchline. Only time will tell if it lasts.

There’s also a comic storyline when Hush informed that a dirty cop Office Halmet killed his wife Jeannie. The Joker wanted nothing more than to kill said cop in revenge. Then there’s Batman: Three Jokers where, despite it being being heavily implied he was abusive, the “Comedian” Joker is seen setting up fake tea parties with dolls, clearly trying to substitute them for his wife and child showing that he does miss them and desire to be a family with them.

While The Dark Knight is one of the few times the Joker's clown-like appearance is the result of make-up, he does sport a Glasgow Grin.

While Joker still has the permanent clown look, it's combined with the Glasgow Grin.

While Batman: Endgame would see the skin of his face restored with a chemical called Dionesiumnote , at the start of The New 52, the Joker had the Dollmaker skin his face and then, after he recovered it, spent Death of the Family wearing it like a Leatherface-esque mask. And even in Endgame, his restored face ends up badly burned as the result of the finale battle between him and Batman, though it still ends up restored again.

Gotham sees neither Valeska escape this. After his death in season 2, Jerome (the proto-Joker) ends up resurrected in season 3, but because Dwight thinks his attempt to revive him failed, Dwight ends up cutting off Jerome's face ala Death of the Family and Jerome ends up stapling it on when he catches up with Dwight and while he later has it properly reattached, there's still scars from what happened. Jeremiah, Jerome's twin and the show's true Joker, ends up with the "perma-clown" appearance due to Jerome having the Scarecrow brew something up to spray in Jeremiah's face, but season 5 sees his fateful fall at Ace Chemicals badly scar his face and sear off most of his hair with only stringy patches left.

Averted entirely in Joker (2019), where his clown appearance is entirely makeup, and the worst it gets is painting his iconic smile on his face with his own blood from a car crash. Not even a Glasgow Grin or anything, the blood is from his hand and his face only has a few normal cuts on it.

While Batman is a rather serious character who refuses to kill anyone, The Joker is a rather comical character who revels in death.

Joker's gadgets tend to be rather goofier but much more lethal, such as the Joker Venom that he often uses to kill his victims.

While Batman gets along well with his sidekicks Robin and Batgirl, Joker frequently abuses his sidekick Harley Quinn and has tried to kill her before, not to mention all the times he has been a Bad Boss by killing his henchmen for any reason you can think of, sometimes for no reason at all.

While Batman's backstory is well known, even by the citizens of Gotham who know of the tragedy of the rich Waynes' in Crime Alley, no one knows anything about the Joker's backstory, but most versions he tells are consistent in two things: he was a nobody, and possibly someone poor.

In most adaptations, his voice is high-pitched in contrast to Batman's Badass Baritone.

Why he went by the name the Red Hood has changed over the years: The Killing Joke claims he was a failed comedian driven to crime to support his pregnant wife. The trauma of his disfigurement from jumping in the acid and his wife's earlier accidental death drove him insane. However, even this backstory is questionable, as the Joker himself calls it "multiple choice".

In Injustice 2, an intro with Atrocitus has the Red Lantern wondering what drove the Joker to nihilism.

In the animated series, he claims to have been abused as a child when interviewed by Harley, but according to Batman, it's just another ruse to escape Arkham.

The purple suit and matching pants with either an orange and/or green shirt with a bowtie or tie, remains the definitive Joker look one that many artists and costume designers have given spin on. He is sometimes known for wearing a cool hat but other times goes hatless. Heath Ledger's custom-designed purple long-coat, trousers, blue shirt and green Waistcoat of Style with a tie has likewise become iconic and famous for its contemporary and downright stylish update on the classic look.

The original Red Hood outfit which is a black suit, white shirt, bowtie with an opera cap and a bizarre red dome is also quite famous.

The Hawaiian tourist outfit he wore in the notorious scene in The Killing Joke.

The white suit he wears in Miller's The Dark Knight Returns as well as the white nurse maid outfit with red wig in The Dark Knight is also quite notable.

The Future Joker look from Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker which went with a mime look (black body suit, slicked-back hair) is also quite distinct and unique.

The first issue of Batman with Joker's debut has him described as having "burning, hate-filled eyes" and the moniker, "the harliquin of hate".

The Man Who Laughs had Bruce dosed with a light version of the Joker Venom and he felt his perspective shift into a paranoid vengeance were he felt everyone deserved to be punished for his parent's death just for existing.

Death of the Family had Batman describe how Joker's irises are always narrow when looking at anyone but Batman and that it is usually an indication of negative feelings toward something with Bruce mentioning that his eye are the eyes of someone who hates everything he sees.

In the Justice League storyline "Rock of Ages", Martian Manhunter has to put in incredible effort to reorganize Joker's mind long enough for him to give up the cataclysmic Philosopher's Stone. The briefly sane Joker immediately says My God, What Have I Done? verbatim as he hands it back, before quickly losing his mind and going back to the laughing madman.

The famous example from the end of The Killing Joke, where Batman tries to convince him to allow Batman to rehabilitate him before their vendetta kills them. Joker considers it for a long, somber moment before quietly reflecting that they're both too far gone.

Batman: Cacophony ends with Joker being pumped full of an inhuman amount of antipsychotic drugs to keep him under control while in recovery from a near-fatal stabbing. Batman takes the opportunity to have a relatively-sane conversation with him, though it's somewhat subverted by Joker still being a homicidal sociopath even while heavily sedated.

He even gives multiple reasons on how he came Back from the Dead in Injustice 2 and will go along with whatever his opponent thinks is true, despite being Dead All Along in story mode and only appearing as a hallucination to his ex-moll.

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns sees him kill David Endochrine and Ruth Weisenheimer, who were clearly based on David Letterman and Dr. Ruth Westheimer.

During Knightfall, once he realizes that Azrael isn't Batman, his plan's gone to hell, and one too many criticisms from Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert stand-ins, he kills the stand-ins.

In one of the issues for the The Batman tie-in comic, The Batman Strikes, he terrorizes a stand-in for Conan O'Brien. This becomes darkly Hilarious in Hindsight as the real O'Brien voiced Endochrine in the animated version of Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. In the series proper, Harley's debut had the two of them terrorize a stand-in for Dr. Phil for the climax.

If you want to know how truly terrifying The Batman Who Laughs is, look no further than the way Joker acts whenever discussing him. He doesn't laugh, he doesn't smile. He becomes calm and serious and simply tells whomever he's talking to that the TBWL is "a wrong thing that shouldn't exist". Someone HAS to be scary if the very thought of him makes Joker act like a calm rational sane person.

In Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker, the clown has a massive Villainous Breakdown when Terry mocks him for his failed attempts to break Batman.

On the rare occasion Joker gets bored and leaves Gotham, expect everyone to think of him as just a silly clown, until the bodies start piling up.

One issue of the Robin Series had him talking about having Abusive Parents, only for a psychiatrist to tell him it's the seventh story he's told now.

Batman lampshades on this to Harley in the animated series, thinking it's another lie to gain sympathy.

The Killing Joke claims he was a failed comedian driven to crime to support his pregnant wife. The trauma of his disfigurement and his wife's earlier accidental death drove him mad. However, even this could be a lie, as he himself calls it "multiple choice".

It's even discussed in Injustice 2, as Atrocitus wonders what drove the Joker to nihilism. Despite only appearing as a hallucination to Harley in story mode, he spews out multiple theories for his Unexplained Recovery and will say Sure, Let's Go with That in non-canon fights. Was he resurrected by someone, or is he from another universe? Did he escape from either the Source Wall or the Phantom Zone, or is he just an apparition?

Shadow of the Bat #38, Tears of a Clown: He celebrates his anniversary of the day he was a still sane, but hapless comedian, and was thrown out of an exclusive Stand-Up Comedy club for an unfunny act the patrons mercilessly heckled. It was the last straw as he agreed to provide to his family by pulling a job for the Red Hood gang. So he kidnaps all the patrons and reenacts his act with control collars that will kill them when they laugh. Oddly enough, the patrons are hardcore Stand-Up Comedy fans, so they can't remember the number of times they've booed someone. However, even this origin story could be a lie.

It's come to be his primary disfigurement over the original skin bleaching.

In Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker, Terry McGinnis exploits this by delivering an epic Boring Insult so the clown will have a Villainous Breakdown.

King Barlowe proved to be a big one in his Thanatos Gambit in the episode "Joker's Millions" of The New Batman Adventures. In a spiteful Video Will, he gives the clown his millions, revealing in his tape that most of it was fake. Expecting the clown to splurge on it, he won't have enough to pay off the IRS, allowing Barlowe to get the "last laugh" after his death, without the Joker coming after him.

Alan Moore's "I go Loony" from The Killing Joke, an in-panel song-and-dance tune that was eventually made into an actual song belted out in Batman: The Killing Joke.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold has "Where's the Fun in That?" from the episode "Emperor Joker".

Batman: Arkham City ended with him covering The Platters' "Only You (and You Alone)", Batman: Arkham Origins had him cover Hank Williams' "Cold, Cold, Heart" and Batman: Arkham Knight had him provide an original composition, "Can't Stop Laughing".

Action Fashionista: This incarnation of the Joker has a wide variety of garish outfits for every occassion — most of them straight from the comics.

Adaptational Attractiveness: Metal teeth, lack of eyebrows, and tattoos aside, he's still being played by the youthful-looking real life Pretty Boy Jared Leto; especially since the last two cinematic Jokers were a creepy middle-aged gangster with a botched face-lift and a filthy, scarred vagrant (even the mentally unwell clown-for-hire doesn't scream Mr. Fanservice one bit). This version looks more like Marilyn Manson.

Adaptational Nice Guy: A very downplayed example. While he's otherwise the same Clown Prince of Crime we all know and love to hate, he appears to genuinely care for Harley, and even throws her out of a falling helicopter to save her life. Almost any other iteration of the Joker would do that to save his own skin or rid himself of her.

Adaptational Skimpiness: This version of the Joker tends to be shirtless a lot more than he has in any other medium. It mostly seems like an opportunity to show off his tattoos.

Adaptation Distillation: Leto's Joker seems to be less of the "evil philosopher" that Heath Ledger portrayed him as in The Dark Knight, and instead seems to be a cross between the garish, larger-than-life Mark Hamill version from the animated series and the Arkham games, and the creepy, deeply twisted Brian Azzarello version. David Ayer had also stated that he looked specifically to the Golden Age Joker for reference, providing reason for many to believe that Leto's Joker is a modern re-imagining of that incarnation.

Advertised Extra: Heavily featured in Suicide Squad promotional materials, barely appears in the film for more than seven minutes. According to Jared Leto, several of the scenes he shot were not included in the theatrical cut.

Ambiguous Disorder: In Suicide Squad, most of the time the Joker seems... not all there compared to Harley. In addition of psychopathic tendencies, the Joker has random bouts of maniacal laughter, confusion, and slurred speech-like patterns. All attributes that stem from punch-drunk syndrome. Considering he has faced Batman one too many times, it makes sense that the Joker's mental stability is finally catching up to him.

However, come Birds of Prey, they broke up, mirroring the comics where they do have an Relationship Revolving Door. It appears to stick, as Harley publicly calls it quits between the two of them.

His tattoos are very reminiscent of the Joker in All Star Batman and Robin.

Ax-Crazy: Like all the incarnations before him, calling him a violent psychopath is one of the biggest understatements you can make.

Bedlam House: Spent some time at Arkham Asylum, where he met Harley. Then he broke free from it with the help of both Harley and his gang.

Chewing the Scenery: An important part of the character is his theatricality.

Cool Car: A bright purple sports car with underglow lights and a "HAHAHA" license plate.

Dented Iron: It's subtle, but the numerous scars on his body and metal replacement teeth in his mouth are clear signs that his frequent run-ins with Batman are taking their toll.

Disney Death: He seemingly dies in the crash of his helicopter... only to come back to free Harley from her high security prison at the end of Suicide Squad.

The Dreaded: In true Joker fashion, everyone is terrified of him.

Establishing Character Moment: One that takes place before he even makes his official debut in the setting - he killed Robin (a minor) and vandalized his outfit to mock Batman over his inability to save him.

Even Evil Has Loved Ones: Insofar as much as the Joker can love anyone, anyway, but he does seem to genuinely care about Harley. Eventually, subverted.

Evil Has a Bad Sense of Humor: He considers the brutal murder of a minor as a joke he played on Batman. When he's torturing Harleen Quinzel, he promises not to shatter her well-kept teeth while flashing his own hideous metal dentures. When Harleen later has him at gunpoint, Joker just says "please don't kill me, I'll be ya friend" in a snarky tone.

Evil Is Hammy: It's not The Joker if he's not Chewing the Scenery. And, sure enough, he does.

Evil Is Petty: The graffiti on Robin's costume seems to imply that Joker murdered him just to prod at Batman. It is confirmed in Suicide Squad that Joker and Harley killed him.

Evil Laugh: It's kind of his thing. One notable example is when he chuckles while surrounded by an arsenal of weapons.

Fake Shemp: Indie rocker Johnny Goth stood in for Jared Leto in Birds of Prey, in the flashback where he and Harley torture and tattoo the big mafia thug Harley later bumps back into.

Foil: To Batman as usual, but with some new additions. After 20 years, Batman became more jaded and cruel, while the Joker somewhat mellowed out and his criminal activity became more professional. Batman didn't settle down until the death of Superman while the Joker grew attached to Harley Quinn.

In Suicide Squad Griggs' smug indifference about his gambling debt immediately becomes pure terror when he realizes the Joker has gotten involved.

He is so feared that even the likes of Black Mask would rather steer clear of him. Harley's enemies only start gunning for her in Birds of Prey when it's become clear that she's no longer with him.

   G-Y

The Ghost:

There is an allusion to him in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice ("HA HA HA Joke's On You, Batman" painted across the chest of the dead Robin's empty suit in the Batcave), but he doesn't actually appear.

He gets mentioned a lot in Birds of Prey, but he's only seen very briefly in some flashbacks, always from the back (including footage from Suicide Squad). There is a whole Deleted Scene where he and Harley have a domestic dispute. Harley leaves the house through the window and the Joker throws her stuffed beaver out through the window. In the film proper, she's just kicked out of the house, with no shot of Mr. J.

Greater-Scope Villain: His role in Batman v Superman. Despite not actually appearing his murder of Robin by this point has driven Batman down a darker, more vengeful path that goes against Batman's traditional moral code; the one that the Joker is always trying to prove is wrong. Batman's rage towards Superman blinds him to the possibility of Lex Luthor being the real threat long enough for Superman to die fighting Doomsday. In a way the Joker's actions contributed to Batman's failure.

Guttural Growler: This Joker is noticeably more snarly than previous incarnations.

Handshake Refusal: He doesn't like to shake hands, as Monster T finds out.

Hell-Bent for Leather: Wears a purple crocodile skin duster at some point in the film.

Jerk with a Heart of Jerk: Despite being a homicidal sociopath, he seems to truly love his girlfriend Harley Quinn. Then in Birds Of Prey, he coldly and violently breaks up with her.

Joker Immunity: He appears to die when his helicopter is shot down about halfway through Suicide Squad. To absolutely no one's surprise, he shows up alive and well in the final scene. It helps that he's the Trope Namer.

Knife Nut: And by God, does he have enough blades.◊

Lean and Mean: This Joker, while muscular, is quite lean, especially compared to the heavily muscled Batman.

Love Epiphany: Well, "love" is pushing it, but Joker realizes his affections for Harley when she dives in the chemical bath that ultimately turned Joker into what he is. Symbolic in the sense she was agreeing to join him in madness. Further adding to the complexity of the scene; Joker was tying up a loose end, having used Harley to escape from Arkham. He lead her to her demise and intended to leave her for death but at the same moment realized she had entered his world and his madness. Joker never anticipated the amount of utter devotion Harley would have for him, something inside him just couldn't walk away from her, so he jumped in to save her.

Manipulative Bastard: He manipulated Harley into helping him escape Arkham because she fell in love with him. When she served her purpose, he would have had her kill herself jumping into a bath of chemicals to prove her feelings. He instead saves her from this demise because he has a Love Epiphany in the moment.

Monster Clown: Like the previous film versions, Joker is an Ax-Crazy criminal with clownish makeup. Green hair notwithsanding, his white makeup, red lipstick and absence of facial scars make him look closer to a mime than his predecessors.

Noble Demon: In Suicide Squad, his whole motivation is to rescue Harley Quinn. His commitment is so strong he doesn't even waste time with pranks or petty acts of cruelty. Everything he does is for someone else.

Only Known By His Nickname: He's only known as The Joker, or "J" / "Mr. J".

Outlaw Couple: He and Harley Quinn are lovers and partners in crime.

Sadist: Even though there was only a few select scenes of him, one of them is him torturing Harley. It's disturbingly obvious that he is positively gleeful over it. And he doesn't seem to have lost any sleep over murdering Robin, either.

Pet the Dog: David Ayer confirms that while he did push Harley out of the falling helicopter, his intent was in fact to save her life.

Satellite Love Interest: To Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad. His characterization revolves entirely around Harley, not even getting involved with the main plot.

Scary Teeth: Several of his teeth are made of metal. According to David Ayer, Batman punched his teeth out after he killed Robin, leading him to replace them with metal teeth.

Screw This, I'm Outta Here!: Although he has a presence at the start of the film, The Joker appears to have left Gotham City to be controlled by Black Mask in Birds of Prey, with Roman saying that Joker has already skipped town.

The Sociopath: He's chaotic and remorseless, much like his previous versions. Special mention goes to his murder of Robin, which he topped off by spray-painting a cruel taunt for Batman onto the boy's costume.

Tattooed Crook: His torso is covered in jester-themed tattoos. He also has a few on his arms and face.

Villain of Another Story: He mainly appeared in Suicide Squad, but his biggest act of villainy to date — killing Robin — happened some years before Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, in which he doesn't appear. The spray-painted message on Robin's empty suit ("Ah ah ah joke's on you Batman!") in the latter film can't be anything else than his doing.

Where Does He Get All Those Wonderful Toys?: Is seen with a rather impressive arsenal of guns and knives. And even says to warden Griggs, at some point, "I can't wait to show you my toys." note Notably, he manages to hijack the gunship which was sent to extract Waller and the squad so he can rescue Harley.

Would Hit a Girl: In the past, the Joker electroshocks and manipulates Dr. Harleen Quinzel into allowing her to fall into a vat of chemicals, in order to become Harley Quinn.

Would Hurt a Child: He killed Batman's sidekick, Robin, while the boy was an underage minor.

You Gotta Have Blue Hair: His hair is bright green.

   "Knightmare" Joker

"You won't kill me. I'm your best friend..." Appearances:

Zack Snyder's Justice League

"You need me. You... need me... to help you undo this world you created, by letting her die."

The Joker meets up once more with Batman in the nightmarish alternate future where Darkseid has conquered the Earth and Superman turned evil. But things aren't the same anymore between the two legendary foes.

See also the Knightmare page for more on that setting's characters.

Break Them by Talking: He deliberately tries to agitate Batman by reminding him of how many people have died on his watch.

Cop Killer: He wears a bulletproof vest with at least two dozens police badges on it. Whether these were good cops killed prior to the apocalypse or servants of the oppressive regime of Superman after the apocalypse is not detailed.

Costume Evolution: He has ditched his garish gangster suits for what looks like either a medical gown or a butcher gown, complete with orange gloves and a bulletproof vest with a dozen police badges pinned on it. He got rid of his "Damaged" forehead tattoo, let his hair grow and put red makeup around his mouth, looking closer to more common depictions of the character.

Enemy Mine: He and Batman had the worst kind of enmity imaginable, but the Earth being conquered by Darkseid is enough of a Conflict Killer for them to call a truce and work together to try undoing this mess.

Evil Has a Bad Sense of Humor: He utters the line "We live in a society" while gazing upon the devastated landscape in the trailer. This is clearly a Meme Acknowledgement, and it's quite awkwardly used given the context (is there really any society left in this post-apocalyptic world?). It doesn't appear in the actual film, however. The line was improvised by Leto.

Evil Laugh: Even with the world being in such a sorry state and him still being sane enough to acknowledge how bad the situation is, he'll still let some laughs out, even though they sound more subdued than ever.

Evil Versus Oblivion: Even he sees the necessity of teaming up with Batman to try undoing what Darkseid did to Earth.

Future Badass: He survived the apocalypse brought upon Earth by Darkseid and looks like he's geared for guerilla actions.

My Card: He gives a Joker card to Batman as a symbol of their truce. Shall the Dark Knight want to break that truce, he'd just have to tear that card up. The card could be seen strapped on Batman's assault rifle in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

Nice Job Breaking It, Hero!: Joker gets a high reminding Batman how costly his mistakes in the past have been.

The Nicknamer: He nicknames Mera "my little fish stick" and Robin "Boy Wonder".

Progressively Prettier: Despite being worse for wear, this Joker is arguably even better looking than his previous appearance, with his over-the-top tattooed gangster image toned down and his androgyny played up. Ironically, this version also more closely resembles the Heath Ledger incarnation.

Thousand-Yard Stare: He has such a stare when looking at the devastated horizon as he starts talking to Batman.

Villain Has a Point: While he’s the one who killed Robin, he gives Batman a minor What the Hell, Hero? for sending “a Boy Wonder to do a man’s job.”

Vocal Evolution: His voice is much softer and higher pitched than it was in Suicide Squad.

[leggomylino]

S&M Act I, Scene I | Windstorm ༄

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Genre: Adventure, Drama, Comedy, Fluff, Angst

Pairing(s): Lee Minho x fem!reader x Kim Seungmin

Au: Wizard of Oz au

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warning(s): Minorly to moderately dark themes of suppression, depression, panic, and insanity. Mentioning of blood, dark magic, violence, and (censored) language. 

A/n: I’m so happy this story is finally coming to light! <3 Thank you to everyone behind the scenes who has supported me on the creation of this series, and to anyone who has ever supported my writing ever. ^^ I hope you enjoy!!! | Inspired by the events of Dorothy Must Die, by Danielle Paige.

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17​ @distrikt9​ @hanstagrams​ @hyunsunq​ @smolboiseavey​ @jisungsjheekies​ @iluvlix​ @moonlit-han​ @stay-nctzen​ @yangomangos​ @stayndays​ @cotccotc​ @skzctnightnight​ @multi-stan-present​ @dreamy-dreamies​ @yunhoesss​ (Please let me know if you’d like to be added! Comment, ask, or DM me!!!)

ღ S&M M.List | Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

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The dreams had been plaguing you for a while now.

“Y/n,” a boy’s voice spoke. “Y/n, always remember, and never forget. You must forgive, and never forget.”

“Remember what?” You’d cry out into the empty space. “Always remember what? What is it I’ve forgotten? Who is it I’m supposed to forgive?”

Alas, the empty space never told you anything. It was just a soft chuckle, the feeling of eyes lovingly watching you from somewhere far away, cloying and envious, and then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

~ ♕ ~

The rain pelting against your bedroom window that night had been harsh. You listened to the uproarious melody, now awake, lying in a pool of your own sweat, heart racing, wondering where you had come to and where you’d just been. It was always this way, taking time to cool down from such a feverishly swift and spiraling dream; although you were theoretically standing still in a vacant space, you felt the effects of falling as you arose.

The rain calmed you. Despite its intensity it was the one thing that gave you peace, something mentally stabilizing to cling onto and give full focus to as the echoes of a dream deferred vanished into the far recesses of your mind, where they’d be all but forgotten until the next evening. You didn’t know what you’d do when the stormy season was over-- it had already been unusual to have such a large mass of wacky weather one after the other this time of year-- and sure a ferrying rain shower or two was normal-- but you’d grown accustomed to running to the storm’s ferocity for guidance, a child’s blanket, a figurative teddy bear that you could squeeze against your thoughts when escaping the dream realm. The heavy downpour washed all of your fears and anxiety away. What would you do when it was all over, and Fall returned?

It had been so odd; with all the rain and fluctuating humidity, the flowers and Spring-Summer crops were in full bloom. You’d never experienced seasonal allergies in the Fall until now. Neither had your best friend, Hyunjin, and...speaking of… 

You hadn’t realized it was morning until Hyunjin came bursting into your room with one of your uncle’s chickens in his arm. It was still raining, hard, the droplets sounding like tiny fists pounding to come inside. Doubtful to let up anytime soon. “Y/n! Are you still auditioning for the role of Sleeping Beauty up here? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Mia Harper’s got it covered, and Aunt Em’s gonna slide me your stack of pancakes in the next ten minutes if you don’t get your share of the chores done.”

A yawn escaped you. Hyunjin and his sidekick Kkami had been coming over to assist in your busy-hermit lifestyle ever since you could remember. He was your neighbor, after all, but...more on that later. The moment Hyunjin’s words soared beneath the backlash of bad weather, you’d completely forgotten what it was you’d just been thinking about, before the rain, what it was you’d dreamed. (Ever ironic how the dream had instructed you to remember, and yet, here you were, doomed to forget.) “Yeah, okay…” You yawned, stretching and easing yourself into the usual morning (sometimes afternoon) routine. You glanced at the chicken in his arms, and his subtle goofy smile in the doorway. “Is this your way of saying you’d rather have Pluckers as your lab partner instead of me?”

He shifted his eyes thoughtfully to Pluckers, watching him twitch and litter feathers like drops of rain before giving you his answer. “...I mean, that’s not a bad idea, actually. Have you even started your half of the worksheet yet?”

Ugh. Always about school. You wanted to tell him yes, but in all honesty you’d been spending your free time and late nights with your nose lodged between Harry Potter pages or your eyes plugged and gasping over YouTube storytimes. So you clamped your mouth shut.

And now, the backstory: Hyunjin had been your best friend for years. The two of you grew up next door to each other, which for country living was pretty dang far; having someone as your neighbor here was the same thing as having them live down the block. You’d never known your parents; you were adopted at a young age by your Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, who weren’t biologically related to you in any sense and just as good as any biological pair of adults. The details surrounding your DNA relatives-- and the year you’d come to live here-- were all unknown to you. The only story you’d ever gotten out of Aunt Em was that they’d had you from “knee-high” and that you couldn’t remember because of a nasty fall from one of Uncle Henry’s apple trees; Uncle Henry himself refused to speak of the subject at all, either pretending he needed hearing aids or choosing to run into the next room.

Hyunjin was your only friend in school. You’d never been very good in the communication department; growing up in a small town made your comfort zone the same. But not Hyunjin. He was popular and kind and got along with everyone. He had a gift for catching people’s eyes: every boy envied him, every girl drooled over him, and all your teachers and professors fawned and smiled and patted him on the back, even when he’d blurted out the “dog ate my homework” excuse in eighth grade and you proudly stood up and announced that he didn’t have a dog, disregarding Kkami, just for the amusement of finally seeing him choke and get scolded for once in his life. Instead you found yourself pouting with the Cone of Shame in silence while Hyunjin outrageously was given a star on the Good Noodle chart. It’d been the one moment to ruin your friendship for the remainder of class...until he gave you his Free Ice Cream ticket for PeachyKeen’s ice cream parlor downtown. Then, you were okay.

Even now, in your town’s small local college, he was applauded by all. The only person you’d ever seen frown his way was Uncle Henry, who often argued that a boy of his age shouldn’t be barging into a young lady’s room anymore. But Aunt Em always shrugged him off, quoting her famous “times change” saying and shoved a slice of pie before him, and he was back to watching TV.

A flash of lighting lit up the dim clouded sky, followed by the roar of thunder, and with a panicked squawk Pluckers shot out of Hyunjin’s arms, leaving a trail of feathers to follow down the hall. With a nervous look the two of you exchanged a nod before Hyun gave chase, closing the door behind him, and you got right to work getting ready for the day. It was Saturday, meaning no school, however there was still plenty of farmwork to do and the crops in the field weren’t going to protect themselves. Not from yesterday’s shower, and not from today’s.

You hustled downstairs with toothbrush hanging from your lips, dawned in your favorite plaid skirt and lime-green raincoat, the one with the little frog face over the left breast. Ruffling Kkami awake, Hyunjin’s “beloved baby,” you tossed her a treat from the clay jar you and Hyunjin had made together for her in sixth grade art, spinning and spitting in the kitchen sink. 

Aunt Em gave you a nervous look as you tossed the brush in the dishwasher and started aggressively inhaling cinnamon apple pancakes like a beloved Nintendo character. “...And how is my favorite girl this afternoon?” She asked. Her whimsical tone made your neck blush. 

“Sorry, I stayed up late studying again.”

“Studying the wizarding world of Hogwarts, you mean?”

“...Perhaps?”

You smiled apple bits and maple syrup, and she laughed, waving a dish towel at you and squinting the other way. “Keep your mouth closed until you're done. Didn’t I teach you better manners than that?”

“I dunno, did you?”

Her eyes bore into yours in warning and you laughed harder, nearly choking on the last bite of spiced apple goodness. Aunt Em sighed, shaking her head while wiping her hands clean. “I suppose I walked right into that one.” She nodded toward the side door, leading to the barn. “Hurry before the storm picks up. It’s gonna be another bad one, they say, so if the wind picks up anymore or it starts hailing or God forbid you see a giant funnel in the sky, I want the two of you right back inside, you hear?”

“Funnel cake?!” Uncle Henry called. He was glued to his usual pleather chair when he wasn’t out tending to the garden or the farm animals or fixing a leaky faucet. He was also in need of a hearing aid; working eight hours a day around screeching metals and brazen farm animals had left his eardrums in shambles. Aunt Em rolled her eyes, cupping her hands around her mouth. 

“Not cake, I’m talking about the weather!”

“It’s raining cake?!?”

She groaned, earning a chuckle from the two of you. It was cut short when Hyunjin came stumbling past, spitting out feathers and just in arms reach of a couple hens, Pluckers in the lead, signaling that brunch was over. “Thanks for the meal!” you said, shoving the plate forward. 

“Be careful!” Em’s voice bridged across the living room. “You two look out for one another! And hurry!”

“We will!” You shouted back. The sound of the door clicking shut was barely audible beneath the heavy thunks of raindrops slamming against the tin roof as the two (five?) of you ventured out into the stormy play. 

You wished then you would have taken just the sliver of a moment to look back.

~ ♕ ~

You’d never seen a flourishing of colors much like the one taking place outside. Turnips turning upwards, tulips banging heads, carrots and corn stalks exchanging blows before ending up on opposite sides of the field. Sunflowers having the sun beat out of them. It was something out of the rising action of a thriller movie. You’d seen similar scenes in nearly half the Harry Potter movies; the only thing missing were wizards and wands and perhaps a giant dragon.

“You round up Maribelle!” Hyunjin yelled over the storm. His arms were spread wide as he squinted and squatted through the blinding rain, ushering the rest of the chickens and hens inside the barn. “I’ll get the horses next!”

Nodding you ran through sloshing mud puddles and drowning fields of grain towards the feeding pasture, where dear old Maribelle the could be found, often grazing on weeds or spreading out for an afternoon sunbath. The lone cow of SunnySkies pastures for fifteen years, and the first to join the farm. Instead you found her darting bug eyes around wildly, her knobby limbs quivering beneath a willow tree that provided little protection, the willows only adding to the streams of precipitation pouring over her stiff brown fur. She gave you a frantic moo and bobbed her head in relief to see you. 

“There, there,” you soothed, whipping the grass and water from her eyes. “Quickly now, let’s get you into the barn before this picks up anymore.”

She moo-ed again, lower this time, giving you an argueless agreement.

You sledged hard against the rising winds, the blades of greenery that cut surprisingly sharp like razor blades, leaving a small mark upon your cheek. You winced, annoyed at the slight sting, the small drops of crimson that came up against your fingertips only to be washed away just as quickly. It began to rain harder, faster, the wind practically howling in your ears. The faint sounds of a freight train or some sort of heavy machinery filled the distance.

“Let’s hurry, now,” you encouraged your steed, pulling her along beside you. She was reluctant to move, frightened by the spiraling commotion around her. It didn’t help when something snapped beneath your feet, a twig, maybe, or some glass. As if on cue the willow tree came crashing down with a thud. 

You braced yourself, sucking in a sharp breath; you needed to get inside; but Maribelle had other plans. Startled, she ran a wayward direction, disappearing in the fog that was beginning to settle over the pasture. “Mari--!” you began to call, taking two steps forward-- ‘til the cries of another all but took your breath away, making you forget about Maribelle, making you forget about everything.

You stood, jaw slacked, slit-eyed, watching Hyunjin blow away. He wiggled in the fierce storm breeze like a flag pitched on the roof. “Y/N!!!” He screamed, clinging to the roof’s edge for dear life. “Y/N, GET INSIDE!!! CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!!!”

“HYUNJIN!” You bleated back. “HYUNJIN, HANG ON!!! I’M COMING!!!”

“NO, IT’S TOO DANGEROUS, GO-- AHHH!” He shrieked and ducked his head beneath a flying branch. “...GO INSIDE!!! CALL THE PRESIDENT!!!”

“I’m not calling the President,” you huffed, fighting your way across sideways weather and flyaway hairs to latch yourself onto the barn ladder. Of all the times to crack jokes, only Hyunjin would choose a raging level eight storm. “Hang on I’m coming…!”

...Your voice trailed off as your head listed aside, something bouncing in the corner of your eye. There, rounding the side of the barnhouse, was Kkami, frolicking like a happy-go-lucky lamb to Hyunjin’s side.

“Arf! Rwarf!”

“KKAMI?!?”

Your blood went cold. If Hyunjin caught wind of Kkami, it was all over. “Kkami!” you hissed, or at least tried to over the roaring ninety-miles-per-hour winds. “Go back inside! Go! Shoo!”

“IS THAT MY BABY DOWN THERE?!?!”

Oi. “N-NO, IT ISN’T! JUST A BRANCH!!!”

Ushering Kkami with a branch at least beneath the safety of the barn roof, you hustled back to the side of the building. The rain made it slick and hard to hold onto, but you scaled the side of the barnhouse as fast as possible, avoiding loose vegetation and swatting at leaves and smaller branches and once a lemon wedge that the storm must have torn in two somehow, crawling up loose shingles and various askew obstacles and then...then…

This was the hardest part to remember, a part you wish you didn’t have to remember. Face wet, hair whipping in the tempest breeze, you reached for Hyun’s hand, kneeling, pleading, focusing thoughts on hot cocoa and warm lemon pie inside, an Aunt Em specialty. The reality you were so certain in. A reality that would never come.

“Gotcha...!”

Your hands met, fingers touched, smiles of relief shared. But it only lasted a moment before the rainstorm ripped him away, your cries drowning in the funnel that appeared in the sky...or at least that’s how you wished to remember it: in reality there was a soft, whimpering arf!, followed by your best friend’s gasp as he relinquished your grasp to adhere himself to the skies after Kkami, now paddling against the storm’s current, cries of “My baby!” and anguished “AAAAH”s lost on the wind. 

And you could only watch him go, just seeing him manage to latch onto his beloved pet of nine-odd years before disappearing from sight, sucked into the giant magnetizing center of it all you’d completely failed to notice, the last thing from his lips a cry to your name. It’d appeared out of nowhere, substantial and vigorous. Pulling into the station, the train had arrived, uprooting and tearing apart everything in its path. A giant, swirling cloud of gray and gravel and doom.

Oddly enough, in that paralyzing moment, something clicked in the back of your mind: a cursory afterthought at the eye of the storm. 

“Always remember, and never forget. You must forgive, and never forget.”

You stared into the eye harder.

“Come home, Y/n. Come home.”

“Y/N!!!” Aunt Em’s frantic voice screeched below. “Y/N, HYUNJIN!!! Y/N?!?”

You couldn’t look. Couldn’t move. Horror froze you to the barn, eyes locked on the exact spot you last saw Hyunjin disappear, the trance calling you deeper and deeper into a strange petrifying submission, until the tornado whorled to your doorstep and swept you away; the pasture, the barn, your home. Everything.

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ღ S&M M.List | Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ 

Smoke & Mirrors. Copyright © 2020 - 2021 poeticallyspaghetti.tumblr.com. Unauthorized use or reproduction of works is expressly prohibited. Do not repost, plagiarize, claim as your own, or translate my works. Thank you. <3

[neo-culture-mafia]

그림자

last chapter

"'sup bitches." Hyuck called, walking in the front door with groceries in hand.

"Duckie, I have told you 9 separate times to not greet like that." I spun around in the swivel chair, "it's rude." I reasoned and he took his sunglasses off his face, holding them in the same hand as his motorcycle keys. "Whoops?...I guess." He chuckled, strutting over to where I sat at the living room desk.

I turned back around to look at the paperwork spanning across the wood surface. "What's this, sunflower?" He asked grabbing the first paper he could grab. He flicked his brown curls from his vision to have a good look at what was taking place in black ink.

"Money flipping?" He asked me, with a cocked eyebrow and an unamused look. "Yep. Just for a little while," I winked and snatched the paper back. I sighed, setting it back down on the desk, "just until we have enough for an apartment in the city."

He groaned and walked down the hall to the kitchen. "We have everything we need here." He called as I knew he was emptying the contents of the grocery bags into the respectful places they belonged.

I leaned my arm on the desk, laying my head in my hand and staring at the Polaroids above the desk. Some were of us: me, Mark and Hyuck, and some of the rest of the boys...now just a distant memory is what they felt like.

483 days...483 days since we last saw each other. On that damn night. That dreadful night that me and Mark were turned away and shunned like we were dogs.

Then we traveled back to Seoul to find Duckie. After he was missing for 3 weeks, I ran into him by chance in an alley. We actually had gotten in a first fight till his hood fell back and I was met with the melanin enriched skin that made my eyes weep.

I told him to leave, go back, that he was welcomed there. But, he didn't want to leave me or Mark. We lived in the shit shack eating nothing but crackers and water for a couple months, sometimes we opted for sleep as our daily meal.

Until Mark came home with money. He had gotten that damn tunnel door open by the grace of a higher-being: filled with cash to the brim.

Us 3 bought a 2 bedroom farm house in the somewhat country where we were best friends with our retired neighbors; their thoughts and whispers of us being in a 3-way relationship being the talk of the small farming town. We didn't care. We knew what we were doing here and what we needed to do in the future.

"Oh honey. I'm home." Donghyuck called through the house and a door opened to a wet Mark who was towel drying his hair in nothing but sweatpants. "Did you get me the stuff?" He asked all serious, and I looked down the dim hallway to see Mark's blonde hair being tossled by his towel.

Hyuck gave him a flat face, a hand on his hip and another holding him up on the counter. "Yes, Mark. I got you your 'stuff'." He rolled his eyes, going away and returning with a big ass watermelon.

"Yesss," Mark took it and automatically held it to his ear, knocking on it like it was a heavy wood door. "you picked a good one." Mark looked lovingly at the fruit in his arms as if it was a child.

I laughed as I looked at my wacky friend. "Why can't you be obsessed with something usual. Like beer, or poker."

The curly headed boy asked as he walked back down the hall towards me. Taking his thick jacket off and throwing it over the arm of the couch; sitting down he unlaced and unzipped his boots, throwing them by the door.

You watched the conversation play out like a terrible teen-sitcom. "Cause I'd rather die by watermelon overdose than alcohol intoxication-" Mark was cut off as he walked slowly to the front room where Hyuck and I sat. "Yeah yeah yeah. Too many big words for this early in the morning." Hyuck put his arm over his eyes and laid back.

Mark looked at me and we both looked at the clock. "Sweetie, its 3 in the afternoon." I giggled and he whined. "It's so early." He said and stood up.

"I'm getting changed and I'm gonna chill." He said looking at Mark who still clutched his watermelon to his bare chest, damp towel thrown over his shoulder.

"And?" Mark asked. "Why do I care?" He asked and the younger boy just shrugged. "Also...your night for dinner." Mark reminded him and Hyuck whined louder, running down the hall and smacking into our bedroom door.

"Donghyuck!" I jumped up, wanting to check if he was okay. He just kept on whining as he opened our door and went in, closing it.

You could still hear his shrieks as he was probably running around getting changed into comfier clothes.

"Then there were two." Mark sighed as he set his watermelon on the kitchen window, and plopping onto the long couch on the opposite side of the living room.

"I need to redo your hair soon." I said getting up and laying on the ground next to his couch. "I might let it grow up to a ponytail." I sat up quickly. "Uh. No you're not." My voice was harsh and he laughed.

"Girl you need to chill. I was joking." He chuckled, stretching and yawning.

Something that Jaemin used to say to me atleast once an hour. My smile faltered and I became more solemn.

"Do you miss them?" I asked and he just stared at me for a moment. "Who?" Was all he said and I knew that he knew exactly who he was talking about but it still hurt a little bit.

"Your boys." I said and a faint smile was broadcasted over his facial features as he stared into what seemed like distant space but was really just the dark TV.

"Of course." He exasperated and he looked back at my face who was just searching for reassurance that this path was the right one to take.

"But I am so thankful for the two of you, right here, right now." He smiled and my heart was put at ease.

"Alright I'm back. I sensed you guys missed me so I returned. Just for you guys!" Hyuck said as he sat down next to me and leaned back on his arms for support. "Oh yeah. 'Cause we were literally dying without your presence." I said sarcastically and he shrugged.

"Exactly. That's what I just said." He said as serious as possible and me and Mark laughed. "Oh you think you're so funny." Donghyuck said picking me up and pulling me on his lap, his hands reaching for my sides and tickling.

My shrieks and laughs radiated through the house as Mark watched on in admiration. He felt blessed that he made it this far. He also never failed to tell us atleast once a week. We were all each other's life and support systems.

Once hyuck stopped his evil act, I just laid there across his lap trying to resteady my breath.

"What's for dinner?" I looked up at him and he shrugged. "I haven't really looked to be completely honest." He said yawning.

"Well let's go see and then we can make it, eat, clean, and then chill for a while." I said getting up and putting my hand out for him to take.

He groaned but obliged at my request.

He was in some shorts and a basic hoodie. The scarring on his legs reminding us all of a dark period. A painful time that sometimes still follows us.

I have a scar on my back from that night. I don't remember anything of the tunnels but the burning pain in my calves, wanting to stop sprinting through the dark and lonely concrete jungle.

Him and I stood infront of the cupboards in silence.

I suddenly felt so tired and out of it. Like a heavy weight was on my chest and it wouldn't budge.

"Oooo. Spaghetti." He said stretching and reaching the noodles and sauce on the top shelf. I shrugged as he looked at me for my reaction to his suggestion.

"You okay?" He asked and I could only shrug and try to give a convincing smile.

"Yeah. Just thinking about stuff." I shrugged once more and he understood.

"Can you help me with dinner?" He asked and of course I agreed, wanting to get my mind off the looming darkness in the corners of the house.

"Alright. We need 2 pots and then you can figure out some sides we can have with it." He said and I was already grabbing the 2 pots.

I set them on the stove top and he began doing his own thing. I rummaged through the cabinets and fridge before feasting my eyes on what seemed like the perfect pairing.

"Salad?"

~~~~~~~~~

Trying to sleep that night was rough. It was just tough and not even the usual cuddly nature of the sleeping Hyuck next to me could lull me into dream land.

The dark feeling still followed me through dinner and to bed.

I tried staring at the wall but even then the small cracks started freaking me out. I turned towards Hyuck who's curly dark hair framed his face perfectly.

Don't get us wrong. We're not a thing. We're just close. Once we found each other again he has stuck to my side in hopes of fulfilling what he thought he didn't in the first place- protection.

I don't mind. We've always been close and now we've just gotten closer. Was sharing a bedroom in our plans?...no...but we didn't want to put up with Mark and his farting so he was blessed with having his own room.

We're just making do with what we have.

My finger lightly traced shapes on his arm tattoos, trying to pass time and get myself to sleep.

I groaned and his eyes opened. "What's wrong?" He asked looking at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

3:29 AM

He turned back to make sure I was okay. He sat up on his arm and just looked at me for a moment. "Are you hurt?" Was all he asked and I shook my head no. I wouldn't know how to explain the hurt I was feeling anyway.

"I just need water." I said getting up and crawling to the end of the bed. "Be back in 5 minutes please." He said grabbing his phone. I mumbled my recognition and opened our door.

I strided down the hall and grabbed a water bottle. I walked into the hall where the corridor meets living room. Hyuck's phone lit one end of the hall in our bedroom while the other was illuminated by the moon light.

1 sip.

I breathed and looked out the front window at the old couples house across from ours.

2 sips.

I can hear my heart beat as I try to drown it out with gulps of water.

3 sips.

I have a sudden urge to sprint up and down our street to try and rid the shakiness of my body.

4 sips.

I'm not even cold but my anxiety makes my bones sound like wooden spoons and my body go cold with shivers.

And that's when I see it.

The shadow.

It moved on the front porch.

"I'm going crazy." I spoke in a monotone.

"What?" I heard Hyuck call out, now sitting up in the bed.

The shadow came closer to the door, an arm raised, as if it was going to bash in the glass.

"That's not real." I said louder, my water bottle now dropped from my cold hand.

I heard a thud and a swear along with an opening door.

"Mark. Up, now." And a pair of feet come closer down the dark hallway.

The shadow just seemed frozen now as Hyuck stood right by me.

"What is that?" He muttered and Mark now was coming closer, trying to see tiredly through his glasses.

The arm went back and forth a couple of times. "Hyuck go get your gun." Mark said lowly but I wanted to fight this thing head on.

I walked straight to the door before any of their hands could grab me. I threw the door open as my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

I was met with bleached blonde hair, a blood splattered face, a cold stare, and a muscly build that held ink and a face of an old someone I used to know.

"Jeno?" I choked out, wanting to vomit as my body went numb from shock. This wasn't real. I was dreaming. This wasn't happening.

I held my hands out towards his face, moving ever so slowly until his own hands held my own.

The boys behind me became silent as I knew one of them held a gun, still on edge for this too good to be true situation.

I threw myself at him and just held onto his muscular frame. His arms held me tight in a grip that I used to miss.

The metallic smell on him made my nose scrunch up in disgust but I was just too wrapped into the moment to care.

My body was yanked back forcefully and I was thrown back into the living room at the feet of a shell shocked Mark who could nothing but stare forward.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I thought Donghyuck was losing it as he cocked his gun and held it at the face of his once brother.

"Duckie what are you doing?" I asked getting up and grabbing at his arm.

Jeno just did nothing but stare down the metal barrel in front of his face, his hands being raised next to his head.

"I did a sweep of the surrounding place and it's sketc-" another body came walking up our porch.

The tall boy still seemed lanky but had glasses this time. His hair was now a lighter brown and it seemed like he had grown another 4 inches in the span of a year.

"Jisung?" I muttered and he was still met another gun barrel.

This time from Mark who had shoved me back again.

"Please don't shoot." Jisung pleaded, scared setting into his features.

"We need help. Please." Jisung begged but Jeno still held his stare with Hyuck.

"Everyone is gone." Jisung pleaded.

"Please." He whispered, his eyes were threatening to spill.

[crossroadsfossil]

King of cats & the possessed forest

Summary: Hawks had foreseen a thousand different ways for this night to go, but not once in any of those scenarios did he picture flying with Dabi through the air being chased by something that set off his prey instincts. He'd expected the night to be bad - why else would Dabi request a meeting two nights before one of the lesser conjunctions? As if the days before a full moon weren't bad enough on their own.

prompt: Cat, warm, fear

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Sort Of, Witch!Fuyumifolklore, adjacent nonhuman Dabi, nekomata!Dabi, angry lighting dogs, Hawks and dabi are in the wrong place at the wrong time, wacky hijinks, Folklore and quirks, what could go together better

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

The city seemed to thrum with the night, the lights pulsing slightly as the moon crept across the sky. Another a few days and all both of the moons would be aligned with some of the outer planets. It was driving the city mad and kicking up all sorts of figurative and literal storms. If Hawks had to deal with another ‘murder or animal sacrifice’ case with the police he was going to take that vacation time he had been threatening to use. By now he should have about two months of it saved up. Plenty to wait out this upcoming nightmare storm.

The city seemed to thrum with the night, the lights pulsing slightly as the moon crept across the sky. Another few days and all both of the moons would be aligned with some of the outer planets. It was driving the city mad and kicking up all sorts of figurative and literal storms. If Hawks had to deal another ‘murder or animal sacrifice’ case with the police he was going to take that vacation time he had been threatening to use. By now he should have about two months of it saved up. Plenty to wait out this upcoming nightmare storm.

A pack of cats darted across the street, slinking around the edges of the streetlamps. Hawks raised a hand in greeting, seeing several of the animals pause. Their strange heterochromatic eyes flashed in the dim light. Tails flicked in his direction, an almost wave from the clutter of cats, then they began to move on. Only one stayed behind, waiting until their companions were half a block away before it stood on its hind legs. Hawks grinned and waved harder. The cat dropped into an elaborate bow before falling to all fours and almost trotting to catch up to the others.

“It’s not wise to be on such familiar terms with Old Tom.” A voice rasped near Hawks’ elbow. He glanced down. At first glance, it looked like one of the cats from the pack, but he knew better than to assume he piebald at his heels was a member of that courtly clutter. This cat had something the others didn’t: a second tail that twined about the first one, occasionally untangling to lash back and forth.

“Dabi.” Hawks greeted, lifting a wing so the nekomata could curl under it. A moment later there was a sound like the echo of a sneeze and a tall, lanky young man sat under his wing. Hawks rolled his eyes and lifted it higher. He had been expecting a chat with the cat, not the man.

The man shot him a sharp smile and leaned into his space obnoxiously.

“Hawks.” Dabi purred back. “I’m serious, you shouldn’t be so friendly with the king of cats. The Tildrums and the Toldrums aren’t very nice.”

That caused Hawks to laugh, giving Dabi a gentle shove. He hoped it’d keep the cat out of his space a little longer, but all it seemed to do was goad Dabi into getting even closer. He felt claws digging into a shoulder as Dabi threw an arm around him.

“Neither are you, but I don’t mind your company.” Hawks replied. Part of him wanted to ask about the names the cats wore, if there was any significance to using the same four or six over and over again. He knew none of the kings were related to each other, so perhaps it was a title? Although he had known the current king of cats since they were a kitten (not that Dabi needed to know that), and they’d always had that name. Did cats come into this world already knowing their name?

Then again, Dabi was a nekomata, not a proper cat, so he might not know. Dabi let out a contemplative rumble, not quite a purr but also not a growl either, staring up at the moons above like Hawks had been doing before he’d gained company.

“How’s the rest of the colony?” Hawks finally asked. Dabi snorted, lip twitching up in an aborted snarl.

“Quit calling the league that.”

“Well, stop acting like a group of colony cats and I might.”

“I swear to the gods, Hawks- I will-” Dabi’s voice cut off as they were both illuminated in bright, almost yellow light.

Light arced in the near distance, dancing over rooftops and fracturing like lightning through cracked glass. Both Hawks and Dabi tensed, watching as it slowly coalesced into something vaguely dog-shaped. Bright eyes latched onto Dabi. Immediately the nekomata shifted back, skin melting back into fur, his hackles raised high. A low yowl starting up, sounding just as much like a cat as it did like something distinctly other. The creature was too far away to hear the warning, but it cocked its head as if it could.

Shit.

Raiju weren’t common here and if one was stumbling about, it was because something, or someone, summoned it. Hawks really, really hated conjunctions, be it of planets or starts or shot glasses.

Hawks made a split-second decision, scooping the nekomata up and taking flight, wings beating at the air as he tried to put as much distance between himself and the raiju. Dabi squirmed in his arms, claw digging into the leather of his gloves. He had gloves that rivaled a falconer’s glove, and still, he could feel Dabi puncturing them.

“What gave you the bright idea to fly?” Dabi spat, “It’s a creature of lightning, you idiot.”

“Yeah, and we’re squishy. If we stay over thirty feet up, we’re far enough up that lightning won’t hit us. Just, trust me firebug.” Hawks said, not paying attention to the way the nekomata squirmed in his arms. He wanted to give Dabi a snarky lecture on the fact that he had wings and had been flying since he was four - he knew more about the sky and the air and winds than Dabi did.

He didn’t, because those winds he knew so much about were picking up, no doubt the doing of the dog-thing chasing behind them in great leaps and bounds. It wasn’t flying after them, so it was either very young, very old, or injured.

He hissed as Dabi found purchase, climbing along his arms until he pulled himself onto Hawks’ shoulders, tucking himself between the collar of his jacket and Hawks’ neck, looking like a fancy scarf.

“Go left!” Dabi shouted in his ear, whiskers tickling his ears since his headphones were still around his neck. Hawks wasn’t sure what the fuck the stupid cat was talking about, left was-

Dabi bit his ear and he faltered, falling left just in time for something vaguely lightning-like to shoot past. The raiju.

Well, shit.

He flapped harder, deciding that yeah, sure, left was fine. Left was great.

They were only going to swap one problem for a different, potentially bigger problem. They were headed towards the cursed forest that had claimed one of the old school districts. The trees were nasty, snarled things, and only the desperate set foot there. The desperate or the foolish. No, nothing as simple as it being cursed or because that’s where the corrupt lived, no, but because the trees there were assholes. Why Dabi decided taking refuge there was a good idea, he didn’t have time to ask. It went against everything he knew about surviving storms and honestly, nesting in trees during lightning was one of the worst things to do.

“I hope you know what you’re doing!” Hawks shouted, tucking his wings close to his body and diving into the clearing beneath them. Branches whipped past, and he could feel several draw blood.

A gash opened up over one eye and he could feel leaves plaster to it, tiny roots already growing into his flesh. He tore at them, trying to keep from becoming a plant while also dodging the trunks and branches in their path.

Eventually, his luck ran out and a branch caught his foot, sending him tumbling through the air, then the branches, then finally the ground. The sudden stop left him wheezing and creaking, and if he came out of this without a broken rib he’d buy Dabi dinner.

The nekomata extricated himself from Hawk’s neck, seemingly unaffected by the trees or the fall as he shifted back. Fingers dug into his brow, pulling the leaves he couldn’t out and setting them on fire before tugging at Hawks’ arm, pulling to his feet. They took off deeper into the forest, the thin light of the city being consumed by the leaves and branches overhead, rendering Hawks entirely dependent on Dabi to guide them through the forest.

He came to a stop at the edge of what had once been a school. There weren’t any trees for about forty feet around the building, but where the branches had extended to their fullest, vines had jumped the distance. It was like walking under a tent entirely made of vines.

The air was thick with moisture and the unsettling stench of ozone. It sent the hair on the back of his neck prickling and the spare fur still on Dabi’s human form bristling.

The clearing lit up as something crashed through the vine canopy and Dabi pushed Hawks behind him. It irked Hawks greatly- between the two of them, Hawks should be the one puffing up and displaying against the dog. He was the hero and he had far more feathers to be intimidating. Dabi had little enough fur even as a cat and he was skin and bones in both forms. Not scary at all to most animals. Hawks spread his wings, two feathers ready as he watched the Raiju, waiting for Dabi to give any type of signal.

The Raiju didn’t look winded at all and its tongue lolled out of its mouth, head cocked to the side as it let out one of the creepiest sounds Hawks had ever heard. It was a croon run through a broken cassette tape. It set off every single prey instinct Hawks had, and judging by the way Dabi’s entire being seemed to puff up, the nekomata was similarly affected.

“Sooner would be better!” Dabi hissed. Hawks wasn’t sure who the fuck he was talking to, but then again, he didn’t really need to ask as a second later a tree came crashing down on top of the raiju, vines and branches and leaves wrapping around it until it was encased in a ball of mud-coated roots that was slowly sinking into the ground.

“Shit.” Hawks breathed out, leaning against Dabi’s back as he caught his breath, his arms and wings falling to his side. Dabi slumped against him, and together they held each other up as they waited for the muddy ball to sink fully under the ground.

A throat cleared to their right, and a disheveled young woman stood, an old-fashioned hurricane lantern in one hand, her other hand clutching a shawl to her shoulders. She had pale hair and red streaks in it and she looked as if she had just woken up.

“Evenin’.” She yawned, “You boys want to come in and get warm?”

“Who?” Hawks asked quietly to Dabi. Dabi shifted, trying to avoid looking at Hawks.

“Yeah, ‘Yumi. I think we will. Sorry for crashing here.” Dabi said, tone soft and as polite as Hawks had ever heard. The young woman waved off his words, then gestured with the same hand. The root of a nearby tree pulled up, showing a tunnel lit with glowing mushrooms beneath it.

“Come on. It’s warmer underground and I’m sure the harpy has questions.” She yawned again and started down the tunnel. Hawks frowned, irked at her words. He wasn’t a damned harpy. Still, she looked oddly familiar and he couldn’t place where he’d seen her face before.

Dabi started after her, pausing to look behind at Hawks. Feline ears flickered into existence and they flattened. If Hawks had to place the expression, he’d say that Dabi was… embarrassed? Nervous?

“You coming, pretty bird? Fuyumi won’t keep the door open all night, and I’d rather not test my sister’s patience before she’s had coffee.”

[coastaldragon]

Dragon Diary 1/7/21

So...this is my resolution for the year.

I wanted to start a kin-related diary. I found myself missing how often I used to muse about myself and my experiences here, and have long since felt...detached from myself. Stuck in the loop of going through the motions of “human.”

A week late on my first entry, but so it goes.

These entries will just be flow-of-consciousness blabbles for the most part. I’ll talk about any kin-related thoughts I’ve had that day, how I’ve been feeling, how my otherkinity has affected my day, etc.

I have a lot of catching-up to do with you all, so the first few entries may seem disjointed and a little long. Lets get started. This is long. And a bit negative. But hopefully they won’t all be.

cw for death and drug mention and health talk like needles and stuff

I don’t quite remember why I dropped Tumblr like I did. I think I was getting annoyed at all the UI changes, and just overall very busy with “real life.” These things happen. I slowly drift away from a platform. Sometimes for weeks, months, or years in this case. Then I’ll drift back. Kind of like a scrap of wood on the waves.

In the time I’ve been gone life has been...interesting. The source of the stress that caused me to awaken in the first place is gone. He OD’d in...2014? 2015? Some time around there. My grasp of time is worse than ever.

We hadn’t even known he’d be using anything. Turned out he was stealing my late father’s remaining fentanyl supply. One of those guys who preys on widows like my mother. He lied about everything. His entire past as we knew it was a lie. And he was just leeching off of us.

It was...hard. I was the one who found his body upon getting home from work. My mother is still traumatized, even now. Even after all he did. She did love him.

I think all that hardened me quite a bit. And I’m sad for it. I’m still trying to soften myself again, but my trust has never been shattered like that before or since.

My now health is...poor. I had a great job working at an independent pack-and-mail sort of place for a few years. Very laid back, when the customers were nice. Helped me build a lot of strength and muscle. Quite enjoyed showing off by hefting 50lb boxes onto my shoulders. Helped me feel less weak in this squishy human body of mine.

But about...2 or 3 years ago [again, time is a myth to my brain] I woke up and my shoulders were just.

Locked.

It felt like someone had stuck paint spanners under my shoulder blades or something. Not only that, but I was weak. I barely had the strength in my arms to lift a half gallon of milk in the morning.

We thought I’d just hurt myself showing off, somehow. So we gave it some time. Took ibuprofen, used pain creams. Took a few days off work.

But it didn’t get better. It got painful. And the moreso. And moreso. And then my back began to have trouble as well. It was spreading. I felt...ill.

So. Doctors. Tests. More bloodwork than I’ve ever had in my entire life. [10 vials at once for one appt!]

My primary, who is a garbage person I never wish to see again, insisted it was just a sprain. Or something. Whatever. But I knew it wasn’t. My mother knew it wasn’t. Everyone I knew knew it wasn’t.

Specialist time! At the behest of my cousin, who has a litany of autoimmune disorders, we hooked up with a rheumatologist. Who I will call Dr.M. 

Dr.M is an angel on Earth. I am convinced of it. A full year he spent with me, ordering tests, trying treatments, working with me to figure out what the hell was going on. And we did. And what a mouthful it is.

Ankylosing spondylitis. No, it’s not a dinosaur. [Though I do think I’m ‘hearted for ankylosaurines...I don’t think it’s related lol!]

You can look it up if you like. But basically: My immune system is fucking crazy and attacks all the things. Most places describe it as being a lower spine disorder, and while that is certainly where its centralized in most folks, that’s not all it is.

For example mine is, obviously, centralized in my shoulders and upper back. But it does aaaaaaaaaaall sorts of crazy shit. Every day is different. Joint pain, exhaustion, GI trouble, stomach upset, lack of appetite, murderous migraines. The usual for an autoimmune illness. But also wacky shit like costochondritis [painful inflammation of the cartilage of the ribs], random organ inflammation like in my kidneys [not fun], lungs [I had a 3-month stint of chronic bronchitis last winter], and even my heart [very not fun.] Sometimes it likes to attack my “integumentary system” aka shit like my skin and hair meaning I’ll have weeks where my hair just. Sheds. Like a damn cat. It gets everywhere and w/ my long-ass quarantine hair it’s so annoying.

This attack dog immune system does mean it’s unlikely for me to catch little bugs like your common colds and stuff, which is appreciated. But it also likes to maul anything else it deems foreign. Like medication! I took Humira shots for a few months and had a “paradoxical reaction” aka it did the literal opposite of what it was meant to, because the injections pissed off my immune system so much it went scorched-earth on whatever it could. Mostly my thighs, since that’s where the injections were. I still get stabbing pain in them and it’s been over a year. [No, I don’t think I can sue Humira over this. Though I have discussed it w/ my Dr.]

This also means that if I do get sick, it’s bad news. Something strong and unique like COVID? Death. Deaaaaaaaaath. Would likely trigger something called a “cytokine storm” aka my immune system nukes everything and my organs die and so do I.

So guess whoooooooo’s been locked up at home for almost a full year now? :’)

I luckily am able to work from home, though it barely pays the bills, and my health has suffered from a lack of being able to Do Stuff I normally would.

As a result I decided to get back in touch with myself.

It started with Second Life, because of course it did. A new dragon avatar came out. Shiny and mesh and easy [by SL standards] to modify. So me and a few friends [some kin, some not] made a group for sharing stuff for the av and just hanging out. It’s fallen by the wayside unfortunately but those nights spent chilling in SL with a bunch of other dragons roaring and goofing off felt really really good.

And then I made a kin Twitter. [And found some exceptionally cool kinfolk in the process.] 

Then came Othercon the virtual otherkin convention and OtherConnect, the Discord spawned from the community that rapidly formed within the con. Othercon felt incredible. Panels and lectures about the history of otherkinity and alterhumanity and how we are today and rep in the media and just so! Much! Cool! Stuff! And tons of great kinfolk too! 

To not only be within a community but seeing others like me and speaking with them, not just typing back at words on a screen. It was...so very, very reaffirming. It felt like a second awakening almost. I wanted to cry for finally, truly not feeling alone.

And now I’m here. Because I need to be. Because something, deep down, is telling me I’m going to be needing myself sometime soon. So I’d better get started.

I hope I don’t drift away on the tide again. I’ve missed this site, worse for wear as it is.

But I’m a bit tired today. A nasty headache lingering from yesterday’s nastier flare up. Accursed cold fronts. I used to enjoy them but not so much these days. Ah well.

I know there wasn’t much kin talk in this first entry, but as I said, we had a lot of catching-up to do!

[pcrushinnerd]

“Looks Like You’re Dating A Witch”

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is purely some self-indulgent fluff for my own enjoyment.

The first time he came over to your apartment, he was drawn to your altar–a small set up on a dresser in your room, with its two pillar candles at either side, an incense holder, a little cauldron, a small dish and a wine glass, a knife, and adorned with raw crystals, pine cones, leaves, and dried flowers.

“What’s all this?” Normally you didn’t allow anyone to touch your altar, but he had such a childlike wonder in his eyes, particularly as he picked up and examined some of the crystals, that it didn’t bother you or feel disrespectful.

“My altar.”

He’d looked at you confused.

Then came your admission, sounding like it came from the protagonist of a wacky, romantic comedy: "Well, hun, looks like you’re dating a witch....”

He still looked somewhat confused, but you were relieved and heartened when he started asking you sincere questions, and seemed completely drawn in as you gave all the finer points of your spiritual practices.

You feared the usual questions, but he never asked them. Still, you gave a short lecture about what you weren’t: You didn’t believe in the Devil, much less worship him; you loved animals, and nature, and would never hurt either; you explained the Rule of Three and karma and the like to him.

As your relationship progressed and you spent more and more time together, he saw some of your practices in action.

A simple spell said over a candle put another look of awe and wonder on his face.

“What was that for?”

You don’t normally express whatever you prayed to your gods about, but again, with Arthur, it felt okay. “Just that we’re both safe as we start another work week.”

He smiled widely. “Sounds like a worthy cause.”

The smoke and scent of your incense would often blend with his cigarette smoke, making you wonder how the fire detector didn’t constantly go off, but also creating such a unique aroma and feel in your shared space.

Your activities as a ‘kitchen witch’ were especially appreciated.

“Taste this,” you say to Arthur as held up a spoonful of a homemade apple sauce you’d been working on for an upcoming holiday. He let the spoon slip into his mouth and subsequently tasted one of the most delicious things he’d ever eaten.

Arthur happily served as a taste tester for your magical recipes.

You were highly fortunate to be able to see the moon easily from your bedroom most nights. One night in particular, you could see it rising up on the horizon, and it had you transfixed in just how beautiful it was.

“Whatchya doin’?”

“Just watching the moon.” He already knew how important it was to you spiritually.

He grabbed your hand. “Up,” he gently commanded.

You were puzzled, but complied as you let Arthur pull you out of the chair. He walked around you and sat down in the same chair, before smiling at you and patting his leg. “Let’s watch together.”

A big smile spread over your face, before you hopped onto his lap.

His arms wrapped around you, and he nuzzled into your hair as you both watched the moon together.

At one point he pulled back, and with a smirk, he touched your nose with his index finger. But instead of simply “booping” it like he sometimes did, he wiggled it a bit.

“What was that for?” you smiled.

“Hmm, I thought something magical happened when a witch’s nose wiggled.”

“Ah,” you nodded, still smiling. “Well, something magical could happen. Maybe something like this—” You leaned down a bit, and pressed your lips to his, as the two of you fell into a heated kiss.

[zenothemanager]

Axion: A Kortia Fic

If I write this, does it still make it a fanfic? Anyway, enjoy this short little thing I wrote about Gerald.

“Identify yourself travelers.” A voice came from a small open spot above the steel-like doors that looked about the width of a highway. 

“I’m Gerald Yori, and this is Dakota. She has no last name.” Gerald spoke towards the doors in a commanding voice I didn’t think he was really capable of. The slit above the doors quickly shut and a beam of purple light hit us, which tingled a lot.

“Gerald what the hell is this light?” I questioned, looking over my arms.

“They’re scanning our identities to make sure we aren’t known criminals.” He said cooly, just as the light turned off. 

“Entry granted. Queen Flore hopes you enjoy your stay at Astron, The Light of Vallauria.” A robotic voice said from the wall, seemingly from nowhere. After that, the doors began to open.

“The queen's name is Flore? Isn’t that a bit close to Florus?” I questioned with a bit of worry. After all, we had left the Princess to deal with the Dyclos problem by herself.

“You don’t need to worry Dakota, there's no relation there. From what I hear, the Queen is nothing like the Florus family.” He assured me, just as the gates finished opening.

And inside was more neon light than I had ever been exposed to in my life.

“Look at… all of the lights…” I muttered in sheer awe as my eyes darted across every little thing I was seeing. Purple, pink, and blue neon lights were shining from every corner of my vision. Cars were stacked in traffic high above the streets, thousands of people walked the sidewalks, and every bit of the city felt alive. 

“You like it?” Gerald questioned, a small smile appearing on his face. 

“This is better than I ever imagined it to be Gerald.” I smiled at him, the realized that for once, he was actually smiling.

“Wait are you smiling again?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you're talking about Dakota.” He said, his face going slack as he immediately began walking away from where I was standing. “You better hurry up and get your looks in now, or you’ll get left behind.”

“Gosh Gerald, you sound like a mother trying to get their kid to follow them.” I sighed, tearing my eyes away from the skyscrapers that seemed to cut through the very clouds themselves.

“What does gosh mean?” He questioned, shooting me a confused look.

“O-oh it's a saying where I’m from.” I suggested.

“Sure.” Gerald muttered in disbelief, but stayed silent afterward. This gave me time to actually take a good look around as we walked.

The vibe of the city was definitely cyberpunk. Futuristic flying cars, neon on every inch of the city, and the various ads for products that absolutely blew my mind. One thing I did notice that was odd were the people themselves. 

They all looked different.

I knew they were all Vallaurian, but not a single one had common features that everyone would normally have. Some people had crazy eye colors, some people had crazy hair colors, and some people even had wacky colors of their skin, or even more limbs than they should have.

“There's so many people here Gerald, how do they feed everyone?” I asked, realizing the lack of farms in the grasslands surrounded the giant walled city.

“You remember the floating farms we saw in Imperious?”

“Yeah.”

“That's what the people of Ventali do too. Sitting high up above the buildings is a huge floating farm that blocks out the sky during the day to feed the plants. Between dusk and dawn though, the plain splits itself up and sits on top of buildings around the city.” He said, looking around the neon city with even more awe in his eyes than even I had. I could tell he was really happy to be back here, and that in turn made butterflies fly around in my stomach.

“Well, where should we go first!” I asked in an excited tone, a bit louder than I expected too, but no one around us seemed to care. 

“We have to go to Axion, to deliver this letter.” Gerald said, pulling the white colored letter from one of his pockets and showing me it. It looked a lot more tattered and torn since the last time I had seen it… all that time ago.

“I thought Axion was destroyed?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him as he secured the letter back into his pocket. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, keeping his hands in his pockets. It seemed like he was worried about something.

“It was, but apparently they tried to rebuild it a year or so back. I think something happened with the funding or someone broke in, because they quickly stopped on the project.” Gerald explained as we turned a corner and entered an even bigger neon street. I wanted nothing more than to fangirl over everything I was seeing, but Gerald was right, we had a job to do.

“Even with that being said, who are we delivering it too? Who would be in an abandoned school?” 

“The Savior, I guess.” Gerald shrugged. He obviously didn’t know who we were supposed to deliver it too.

“You guess? I thought you had better information sources than that Gerald.” I teased. I was a bit nervous, however. Just who had told him that we should go to Axion? Could it be a trap?

“Apparently the person who wrote this sent another message to Lord Summerset and told him to ignore this letter. It also said that the message was going to be delivered to the ruins of Axion on… today.”

“So the time we spent coming here was just to stall then?” 

“You’re learning well Dakota.” 

“I swear, you are impossible sometimes.” I muttered, putting my hands in my pockets and walking closely next to him. It was an odd experience to be in a city again, after all the time I had spent away from Earth.

“Are you cold or something?” Gerald asked, turning to me with a confused look on his face.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’re walking close to me like you’re cold or something.” Gerald pointed out, looking me up and down. My face immediately turned red, just as he looked away. Did he really have to call me out like that?

“Well I mean, I am a bit chilly…” I muttered, letting my voice trail off.

“It is a chilly night.” Gerald admitted, pulling his brown traveller coat off. This revealed his extremely toned arms and his amazingly tight shirt.

Oh god.

He then stopped walking, and draped the coat over my shoulders, adding yet another layer of warmth to my outfit. Instantly his smell struck my nose and it was intoxicating for all the right reasons.

“T-Thank you Gerald, but won’t you be cold?” I questioned, pulling his coat further around me and relishing in this moment.

“Not even a little. This is nothing compared to the nights in Deazure.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Turn left here, down the side street.”

We quickly crossed the street as the flying cars whizzed above our heads effortlessly. It still baffled me, just how did these things work?

But I knew that wasn’t important right now, so I focused on the task at hand. Getting to the school.

“This...is the place? It doesn’t really look like a school.” I muttered as I took a look at the path before us. It looked like at one point the walk way had huge flowery trees, but all that was left were burnt husks, and long dead flowers on the ground. Further down the path I noticed a tower the distance that looked like it was almost falling over. Below the tower, was what looked to be a broken rectangular building, with all of its windows blown out, and two huge doors lying on the ground in front of it.

"It used to be one of the most populated places in the city, believe it or not." Gerald explained as he put his hands on his pants pockets. He then started walking along the path, his shoes crunching over all the dead leaves that littered the ground.

"I heard a lot of conflicting things about it, but what actually happened?" I questioned, quickly following him.

"You probably won't accept the answer ‘a lot’, will you?" He asked, glancing over to me.

"What do you think Gerald?" I question with a soft smile, which just made him feign being annoyed.

"The Savior destroyed this place with his power. It's said he betrayed the very friends he had worked with during his years at the school, then, in an odd twist, he killed one of them. Following that he blew up this section of the city, causing all of this that you see around you."

"One person… did all this?" I questioned as I glanced at the broken building once again. It was only one story, which already raised a lot of questions. Just how had so many people attended this school.

“The more impressive part is that the fight happened underground apparently. Yet all this damage still happened.” Gerald said, his eyes turning more towards sadness. 

“Weren’t you here when it happened?” I asked softly, just as we got to what looked to be a courtyard in front of the fallen doors. Giant slabs of broken concrete, twisted metal, and leaves were scattered over this area. It was sad to see that what once was a place full of hope, was turned into such ugly rubble.

“I was.” Gerald simply replied, with sadness now evident in his face. Sympathy flowed through my heart, and I knew that this once, I couldn’t be the shy person I had been.

“It’s okay Gerald.” I said, getting closer to him and pulling him close to me. I was surprised when he didn’t push away, or say something sarcastic, or refuse at all. 

Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and held me, as silent tears fell from his eyes.

“I watched… I-” He said, his voice breaking as he tried to tell me something. As he said it though, it looked as if he were in pain just trying to push out the words.

“It’s okay Gerald, you don’t have to explain this time. Just...let it go.” I said, reaching my hand up and running one of my hands through his hair. 

And then he cried.

He cried and cried and cried, and let out every bit of emotion I knew had been building up. Ever since the first moment I had met him, I knew he was holding back unimaginable pain. I had tried time and time to ask him when we agreed to run away together, but he just wouldn’t break down, and he wouldn’t tell me. But now that I was seeing this, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in my heart for even asking him about whatever horrible tragedy had made him feel this way.

“I think we should go Gerald, there's no sense in putting yourself through this pain just for-”

“No.” He said with a shaky voice as his tears stopped. The expression on his face hadn’t changed, and the pain was evident, but I could see a shimmer of determination in his hazel eyes. “We have to go in, I need answers Dakota.”

“Answers for what Gerald? Is it really worth putting yourself through all this emotional pain?” I questioned, almost begging him to reconsider his decision. I didn’t want to see the man I loved put through so much-

Love. Love?

What did I mean love?

“Before, I would have said no. But with you by my side, I think I’ll be strong enough.” He assured me, grabbing my hand in a way he had never done before. A blush hit my face, but the look in his eyes completely drove it away. He needed me to be strong now, or else he couldn’t get whatever he wanted from this broken place, and he would never be complete again.

“Okay Gerald. Let’s go face these demons head on. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” I reassured him, trying my best to give him a strong smile, even if I was dying on the inside from seeing him like this.

“Thank you Dakota, I don’t know what I would do without you.” He muttered genuinely, then pulled me by my hand towards the two grand doors that stood before the extremely dark entrance hall. We passed the fallen doors, the very same doors that the artwork in the Byrathes mansion was based off of, and then we entered what used to be a grand hall.

But it was now only full of skeletons and cobwebs.

“Oh god these are-” I started to say, the very hairs on my arms rising in fear.

“The bodies of everyone, still never removed.” Gerald’s voice cracked as he stopped and looked upon the horror before us. His hand squeezed mine tighter as he shivered slightly. I quickly moved next to him and pushed his face to meet mine.

“Look at me Gerald, they are just skeletons. You can’t do anything to change what happened here. The best thing you can do for these people that died is to live your life. You survived for a reason, so don’t waste it by holding all this guilt inside of you.” I pleaded, as I pulled him closer to me. 

All that I wanted to do was warm his cold heart, and bring a smile to his face.

“You just don’t understand Dakota, I was-”

“Might want to reconsider what you’re about to say there Gerald.” A voice came from above, and immediately my senses went into overdrive. Before either of us could react however, a figure dropped onto the ground next to us and blew up a ton of dust at us. 

“Gerald, we have to move!” I yelled trying to pull him along, but he simply wouldn’t budge. I glanced in the direction the figure had dropped onto, and the first thing I noticed was two glowing yellow orbs about where I expected eyes to be.

And then the dust disappeared, and revealed a figure in pure black armor, with their face covered. But even through this cover, I knew the two orbs I was seeing were their eyes, something I had never seen before.

“Who are you!?” Gerald yelled, letting go of my hand and pulling two blades from his belt, getting into an attack stance. The figure laughed, then turned to Gerald, but still pulled out no weapons.

“I am The Savior.”

[delimeful]

First time they saw Patton cuddling with Virgil? (Like y’know the energy thing maybe?) Or Virgil protecting the three of them from some other alien?

Okay, now that Making Adjustments is out in full, I’m posting all the asks that inspired me for certain parts or even just to continue writing! Thank you to everyone who sent in ideas/what they wanted to see/theories, I really appreciate it! All asks under the cut!

@ironwoman359 said: I’d be really interested to read about what the first week or two aboard the ship with all four of them was like. I’m sure it was a big adjustment for all of them, and it’d be really cool to see!

@skeletonsloverockcandy said: WINBAR prompt - Virgil’s first night on the ship, is not with Patton, and gets a nightmare. Logan finds him and Virgil has to explain his nightmare/dreams

@the-princey-pie said: Logan mentioned that Virgil would probbaly have trouble fitting through the space ship doors. Now I really want to see Vorgil stepping into their spaceship the first time/navigating it for the first few weeks.

@indigomasquerade97 said: WIBAR prompt. Virgil is Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. You know the scene I’m talking about! ;) Roman is still freaked out with the idea of having a human on board, and one night (maybe on patrol, since he is still jittery from loosing Patton and doesn’t want to loose him - or Logan - again) and he gets freaked out by the nocturnal human suddenly being in the room? IDK

Anonymous said: So. I was wondering for the WIBAR prompts, what was Virgil’s first night on the ship like? How did Roman and Logan act towards him? And is he worried that his relationship with Patton is going to change now that he’s back with his family? Sorry if this is a lot…

Anonymous said: WIBAR prompt idea: Food! Since food is often culturally connected for humans, would it be the same for our alien friends? And if they have any, from Virgil’s pov., strange food items etc. Would be interesting to see considering they are all from such different species. :D

@justanotherpurplebutterfly said: WIBAR: did Patton tell his crewmates how to interpret Virgil’s body language? Did they figure it out for themselves? Did they struggle to remember when they saw him smile or stretch (and make himself big) or something?

Anonymous said: I would love to see some V POV or adjustment period/cultural differences! (particularly L/R’s reactions to V smiling, differences in diet/hunting styles, what V considers a threat vs. what LMP consider threats… anything that highlights the deathworlder in Virg! (Space Australia is like my fav thing that came out of tumblr)) also maybe some more of L/R’s thoughts on Patton befriending a space boogieman?? I really really love this au! :)

Anonymous said: OoOOooh okay how about,, Virgil’s POV as they head back to Roman and Logan’s ship and get on, (and maybe if he doesn’t know the species Logan and Roman are he could ask? That seems the easiest way for us to learn more about the boys without it being too awkwardly shoved in) and V’s probably awkward because he doesn’t know Lo and Ro and Ro’s openly hostile and he wasn’t expecting to go along with them and idk you decide. Also :DD wibar’s not done yet!! Tysm; I’m really enjoying it!

@bishopriecke said: Okay, so I’ve got a couple prompts so I’ll send them separately in case that’s how you’d wanted them? The story is absolutely adorable and it made me think of the sleeping habits back on the ship. There’s space for Virgil, but will Pat gravitate to sleeping with him, since it was such a comfort and Virgil only gets sleepy if he snags energy during cuddles? If he’s tired/virgil’s stressing over something will he wander over to where Virgil is chilling and settle in his lap? How’s Ro&Lo react?

@bumblebeekitten said: Do any of the others attempt to learn Virgil’s language? Or maybe Virgil quietly tries to dispel some of the more hurtful rumors about ‘deathworlder humans’?

Anonymous said: What would wibar Roman and Logan do if they couldn’t find Patton? Would they assume Virgil had done something?

Anonymous said: While waiting for more WIBAR, I keep re-reading everything (Act 1, Intermission, all the world building asks). Right now, I just want to plead with Patton to go find Virgil as he needs comfort, to calmly tell Logan that I don’t blame him, and to hiss at Roman that, while he has had bad experiences and that is valid, he needs to be nicer. Granted, a reaction like that from a human fan-nut probably wouldn’t help Virgil’s case… but he needs a hug so much right now!

Anonymous said: i’m thinking there’s lots of potential for hurt/comfort with this chapter. Virgil’s obviously panicking so i reckon he’s gonna have to try and convince himself that he can trust Patton if not the others. i feel like virgil still wont trust the others but they’ll get to see that he’s not always this big, strong deathworlder and he gets scared just like them. he’s been traumatised and he cares for Patt a lot and theyll try to understand eachother better and hopefully become friends/gain some trust

Anonymous said: that is very much wishful think and a need for my boys to be happy though haha. soz, that probably wasnt very helpful for writing but thats just something i’d like to see happen but i KNOW that whatever you end up writing is gonna be fabulous (ran out of room on my last ask and couldnt even sign it, whoops)

@justanotherpurplebutterfly said: I’m mainly really curious how Roman will react. If he has even have as big of an imagination as buobba Roman then he will probably interpret Virgil’s outburst as a violent attack and try to frame him as a danger they shouldn’t keep on the ship. However if he was able to detect Virgil’s fear then this might be the first step of them growing closer. Idk which I like better, because on one hand I want them to to get along and witness wacky human things in an amicable atmosphere, but on the other hand, misunderstandings are soooo good!!!! Most of all I want Virgil to get a hug though. Poor boy deserves one. I don’t care with who it is, although I suspect it will be Patton because no way the other ones trust Virgil enough and vice versa.

@yalltookmyurlideas said: Haha wibar fears? There are,,, so many. My main fear is that Roman will misinterpret Virgil’s panic to mean he’s hiding something and not see it for the panic and fear it is.

Anonymous said: I was thinking about for WIBAR, are we going to find out more about Virgils life on Earth? Is there angst there or is it irrelevant? Also would Logan and Roman go after Virgil themselves so as not to worry Pat or would they realise this was a situation they couldn’t solve? OR does Roman think V is attacking them and goes to hurt him? Sorry long ask but I’m excited for the chapter 😅😅🥰🥰

Anonymous said: Ayyy super late gang, barely got a hour of sleep bc anxiety/nightmares so yeehaw. I guess for WIBAR, the most essential thing to consider is how you want Making Adjustments to sorta add onto its characters & how they interact. Idk that ofc, but I think the situation is going to resolve into a ‘im only human’ (the irony) kinda situation and the crew (maybe minus patton??) only /starting/ to grasp the human is a bunch of damaged goods who is lowkey more scared of them than they are of he (½)

Anonymous said: (2/2) how i see the situation going down? Depends who finds him. If it’s Pat, he could sing him clam like in the cell. If its Roman or Logan, odds are Virgil’s gonna b scared & his response will be to Fight or Freeze, as he already did the Flight option. Virgil reacting like a cornered animal would be terrifying Ro and Lo. (Also Ro and Lo going to wake up Pat for Human Help has the same vibes of a child waking up their parents to tell them they puked lmao)

@killerfangirl3 said: After where you left last chapter, I am 100% terrified Roman will find Virgil before Patton and cause real danger to everyone. After all Virgil is flooded with adrenaline right now and he barely knows how his strength affects the metal? of the ship as it is. The sudden increase in strength if he was attempting to defend himself could cause him to put a hole in the ship.

@hotchocolatehugs said: Oh! Also, would Virgil calm down if Patton found him, or would it just make him worse/more crazed? I dunno about his state of mind, but if I were in his position I would probably be acting aggressively to anyone who came in. Do aliens have hot chocolate or tea, or some equivalent drink? Because I think Virge needs a calming drink. (sorry if this is too much!)

Anonymous said: I saw your latest post and all I could think about is Virgil stuck on the appliance, really high up and close to the ceiling unseen while he sees Roman and Logan below. Maybe a bit of a language barrier while they say some words that Virgil may not no yet and jumping to conclusions and filling in the blanks in the sentences

Anonymous said: I’m afraid that In WIBAR, Roman may keep Pat from going to find and comfort Virgil and just…leave him up there

@katelynn-a-fan said: Mission impossible theme while looking for Virgil. Too short can’t see Virgil on top appliance. Mission impossible theme continues and fades into the distance. (That’s all I got)

Anonymous said: WIBAR suggestions/predictions/fears: I worry about Roman or Logan finding Virgil before Patton - Roman because I don’t think he will be understanding about how afraid Virgil is; Logan because I think that would scare Virgil more. He might break out of his flight stage into fight, and that could make them fear him more. But, while worry about this scenario, maybe it would be for the best. Maybe one or both need to find him at a low to see that he isn’t a monster, just scared.

@enby-phoenix said:

OK so wibar thoughts! I’m a little concerned that Roman will think that Virgil was genuinely trying to attack him with that chair and also probably trying to hurt Logan, and he’s gonna get upsetti. I also think that the way they figure out what’s made Virgil go all fight or flight will probably involve Logan doing the memory share thing, but it’ll take them a bit to get close enough without Virgil threatening to bite Logan’s hands off.

Also PLEASE let my boy eat a full meal and get some proper sleep!

I would also love to see Virgil curled around Patton protectively but everyone knows that it’s Patton who’s making Virgil feel safe.

Another prediction is that Logan, realizing that SOMETHING bad just happened, and knowing that all his information on humans seems to be incorrect or at least not apply to this one, will go to Patton for advice on what to do regarding Virgil’s sudden change of behavior, and how to calm him down again. Cause Patton is the resident expert on Virgil.

I also imagine that Logan might keep his note taking to himself again for a bit, until Virgil believes that he’s not the bad kind of scientist.

I love that Virgil climbed on top of the tallest thing he could find, and I imagine that if it’s above everyone else’s usual eyelines, they each walk past him multiple times while they’re worriedly searching the ship for him.

I’m mostly imagining Virgil clinging to Patton like a lifeline and the other two aliens worrying for their tiny friend but Patton knows that Virgil is just scared and sings him the “calm down baby it’s okay I’m here” hatchling soothing song until Virgil calms down a little, and then still staying with him while explanations are had. They do not come out of the small space on top of the tallest appliance and Roman doesn’t like that but he’ll deal.

Now that I’m thinking about it more, one of the best ways for Logan to gain (at least a little bit of) Virgil’s trust would be for Virgil to see his honest reaction to what the other scientists did to him. Cause based on what I know of Logan, he would be horrified. And that might help Virgil to realize that Logan ISN’T LIKE those other scientists.

Anonymous said: *gets out the defibrillator to help kickstart the creative juices* At this point Virgil is running on fumes and when the trio find him Patton tries to comfort him. But he’s too stressed and feels betrayed and there’s just too much inner turmoil for him to hold back so he finally breaks down in front of them. Perhaps it’s not Patton that manages to calm him down, but Roman who finally recognizes him as a traumatized person rather than “just an evil human” :D

@enby-phoenix said: tbh Virgil probably hisses at either Logan or Roman at some point and it makes them nervous and confused.

Anonymous said: Roman forcing Virgil down from his hiding spot. 'Blade’ to his neck and tying him to a chair. Virgil thinking that he shouldn’t have run and that they are going to be even angrier at him now, ergo more painful experiments. Begging to be put under for the cutting away and to please don’t get mad at Patton (just in case Patton was trying to be a good friend).

Anonymous said: Suggestion for WIBAR - Roman goes looking for Virgil, all ready for a confrontation. But, when he finds him, Virgil unknowingly makes some sort of gesture that means fear/terror to Roman’s people and he stops and evaluates the situation with clearer eyes. This gives Patton/Logan/both a chance to get there.

Anonymous said: Can we get somr wibar fluff/angst?

Anonymous said: I’m just waiting for WIBAR Virgil to just pass out and the panic of everyone that sees him. Or Roman threatening him or Logan goes to touch him and BAM he’s on the floor!

Anonymous said: Stuff for WIBAR: 1: who’s gonna find Virgil? 2: what’re they gonna do with him? 3: how’s he gonna react? – Options: Patton: tries to comfort him Virgil: can’t decide whether to trust or not, maybe leading to emotional outburst and sad PatPat – Logan: scared cuz danger goblin had an outburst at him. Wondering what he did wrong & how to best proceed Virgil: 'he’s gonna do tests on me’ fight or flight – Roman: 'so, if you hurt my friends imma hurt you’ Virgil: fight or flight – ½

Anonymous said: 2/2 Of course those aren’t the only options, but it was fun for me, and I hope it got creative juices flowing for you as well. I love all your writing, and I want you to know that you can take as long as you need to be proud of your work. It’s okay. And take care of yourself too! You can’t make as good of work when you aren’t feeling as good as usual

[bbrandy2002]

Wacky Drabble #17: Liam’s Smut

Part 3

Masterlist

Part One Part Two

“Riley’s” Fic/What Happens In Fydelia

This is part of @emceesynonymroll ’s #wackydrabbles. This weeks prompt is: There is a certain taste to it.

Liam x Riley and Liam x Hana x Maxwell

Word count: Lets just say, the limit doesn’t exist. So Sorry Enna😲 ……2143

A/N: Its been a hella crazy, hectic week and Im Not too thrilled with how this turned out but it is what it is.

Chapter Summary: In an attempt to get Riley to understand how he feels, Liam writes his own smut with shocking results.

**Special Note: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore did not write any part of this, therefore, this drabble should not reflect on her far superior talent. I had no plans to write this when I wrote the previous drabble or I would have never drug her name into it…but, ya’ll just had to see what Liam wrote 😂 Thanks Bleakmore for being such a good sport!

This is MY attempt to write a story within a story, that includes smut (not my forte), in Bleakmore’s writing style, with a fictional character as a contributor, while also switching back and forth in my own writing style….God have mercy on all of you!!!!

MY READ MORE DID NOT WORK AGAIN...tagged as long post

————————————-

Riley’s eyes flitted at the screen as she scanned the words written before her. It was quite obvious by the content and plot of this story, one person in particular was meant to read it-her, and it had Liam written all over it. If those two things didn’t make it clear enough, the username, @inyourfacerileybrooks-love-liam, was the biggest indicator her husband had bested her.

A sea of crimson rippled across her face and heaving chest as she shifted onto her side, adjusting the laptop to lay on the bed next to her, full of resentment and outrage. If she was being honest with herself, she felt more guilt than anything.

If he wanted to “out smut” her, she’d be damned not to see what she was up against. She sighed heavily as she began to delve into his-little story.

________

Liam Fucks Hana Five Ways From Sunday With His Enormous Dick”

A new collaborative drabble by @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore and newcomer @inyourfacerileybrooks-love-liam

NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Summary: This takes place in Fydelia, during the engagement tour, where Liam had caught his girlfriend, Riley, having sex with Drake in the courtyard.

(Liam)

“Bastien!”, I yelled, “arrest these two for treason, indescency in public, and…”, upon seeing the little Hershey bar wrappers scattered on the ground from Drake’s smores, “….litering”.

Seeking my forgiveness, Riley sobbed and pleaded for her release, citing temporary insanity, as her reasoning for betraying me in such a manner.

I did not care.

As my head guard took them both away in shackles and chains, I stopped him momentarily, “Bastien?”.

He turned to acknowledge me, “Yes, Your Majesty”.

“Throw away the key”.

I never wanted to see their sorry faces again. They both will spend the rest of their days in the palace dungeon, in misery, never to see daylight .

Riley rolled her eyes, “real subtle, Liam”, she murmured, before continuing….

I left the scene of their sexual crime feeling hurt and destroyed. Everything I had done since my coronation had been to protect her….Her! When I spoke those three words in the hedge maze before we made love for the first time, I meant them….I loved her.

Truth is, I never stopped.

I never will.

I would have gone to the far reaches of the universe to love her and show her love. I would have given her anything, do anything she asked, gave her my very own life to protect her, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep her. She didn’t think I was man enough to be those things for her, a lover, a protector, a soul mate, a confidante…my best friend.

She wanted Drake Walker for that.

Shame…there is a certain taste to it. Extremely spicy? Maybe. If so, Riley’s mouth was on fire. She pushed herself up from lying down on her side and gently tossed the laptop onto the bed. If there was anything she was ever sure of in life, it was that Liam loved her and always had. Those words she just read, were meant for her, in the here and now.

Her stomach began to twist and turn, a sour taste rising in the back of her throat. She eased herself from the bed to stand, wiping away the steady streams of hot tears that moistened her cheeks.

She ran to the bathroom, shutting the door and fell to her knees before the cold porcelain, emptying the foulness of her betrayal inside of it. Feeling miserable for hurting Liam and causing him such pain.

“Mommy?..daddy?”, Nikolas called out as he sleepily entered his parents empty bedroom.

Without a reply, he stepped in further, his little, beady blue eyes darting around, seeking to find his mom and dad, his ears perking up at hearing the shower running.

Nikolas decided to wait for them to come out of the bathroom, not knowing Liam had stayed in his study last night. Grabbing onto one of the large wooden posters at the foot of the bed, he placed one foot on the frame and hoisted himself up, crawling playfully to the center.

He rose to his feet and jumped up and down several times before landing on his backside with a high bounce, giggling with pure delight. Riley’s laptop caught his eyes, resting on her pillow, open wide with the screensaver of a half naked, Ryan Reynolds bouncing around consistently. He perched himself on the edge of the bed, his short legs swinging freely over the side, as he laid the laptop in his lap.

He knew he wasn’t permited to use electronic devices without adult supervision, however, in his mind, that was not something he was concerned with. His tiny finger ran over the touchpad as his ears listened intently for the shower to stop. Nik’s eyes narrowed on the words that flashed before him, his hand cupped over his mouth….“daddy did what to Aunt Hana?”…..

Returning to my room at the estate, wounded and dispirited, I pour one drink after another, drowning my sorrows. My ultimate goal was to feel nothing, to forget the love of my life ever existed….if only for this night.

Soon, the dizzying effects of the alcohol begin to take its hold on me. I shed my suit jacket, feeling warmth, tossing it absentmindedly on the bed. I began to roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt, when a gentle knock alerted me to the door. I stumble haphazardly across my suite to see who it is at this late hour.

Hana and Maxwell stood opposite of me with looks of concerns and disappointment.

(Hana)

Maxwell and I stand before Liam, who looks like he has spent the evening wallowing in what Riley and Drake had done to him. By now, the entire court and press had gotten word of their very public display of affection….if thats what you would call it. When Maxwell and I were made aware of the situation, we thought he could use a friend, a shoulder to cry on, and-The Game.

The King invites us into his lavish executive suite, lit only by the moonlight’s glow through the clear glass of the balcony door. A near empty bottle of scotch sits on the coffee table in front of the sofa with a pack of cigarettes and a full ash tray.

“Liam”, I wrap him in a warm hug, “we are so sorry for what happened. Is there anything we can do?”.

“Yeah, buddy”, Maxwell said with an encouraging smile, “we came to cheer your up”.

Liam crosses to the center of the room and slumps down onto the couch, grabbing the bottle of scotch, “I appreciate that, but…I don’t think anyone can help me tonight”.

I look to Maxwell, who gives me a knowing look and a nod. We avert our attention back to the King who is lighting up his next cigarette and falling back into the couch.

I wink at Maxwell. It’s time.

Maxwell and I move to the sofa. He plops down on the end opposite of Liam and I settle myself in between them; there was only enough room for the three of us.

(Liam)

I’m grateful that Maxwell and Hana are so concerned for my wellbeing, however, I really just want to be left alone.

Hana shifts next to me and places a delicate hand on my knee. If I weren’t so inebriated, that act alone would seem almost inappropriate for a lady of my court. I take a quick draw and exhale the toxic fumes towards the ceiling.

“Your Majesty”, her voice sweet and low, “Maxwell and I would like to play a…"game”..with you.“

I smile at her and lightly squeeze the hand she has resting on my knee, “I’m not really in the mood for games..maybe another time”.

“Come on daddy, play the game with Uncle Max and Aunt Hana”

I catch Maxwell’s hand moving just below the hem of Hana’s knee length dress, gliding under the fabric as he caresses her thigh, inching higher and higher. I quirk my brow, curious at to what this knucklehead was doing.

Hana closes her eyes, appearing to melt into his touch, soft moans escaping her lips. I scoot further away, unclear as to what the hell is going on.

The intricate lace of Hana’s light pink panties become visible as Maxwell’s finger disappears under it. Her usually, elegant hand, pressing him further and deeper into her. I avert my eyes and begin to whistle uncomfortably, wondering if these two came to cheer me up by…fucking in front of me?

Hana’s sultry voice beckons for me. “I dare you to touch me too, Your Majesty”, an inviting grin appears on her face as Maxwell removes his fingers from her. To say I am baffled would be an understatement, yet, my cock starts to harden with anticipation.

“Do it, do it, do it”, an oddly subdued Maxwell begins to pressure me with a shit-eating grin.

I shake my head insistently, “I..I can’t touch Lady Hana like that”, I wanted to, she’s gorgeous and talented, and by the looks of Maxwell’s glistening fingers, fucking soaked. I lean forward and put out my cigarette, planning to get away from whatever the hell kind of game these two are playing. I’ve played Monopoly, I’ve played checkers, never have I “played” Stick a Finger in The Pussy.

My heart races as she grabs my hand and pulls it towards her. I hesitate, but, dammit, I’m only a man. My fingers roam over the wetness of her panties, I can smell her essence and it completely overcomes me. I make my way under the lace; she is warm and slick. I begin to move with precision through her folds and she groans my name. Hana’s giftedness never fails…I can honestly say, I do feel a little more cheerful afterall.

Through her moaning, she dares Maxwell to suck my dick. I laugh, oh the Hana…she’s such a jokester, until that son of bitch gets up and kneels before me. In my drunken state, I don’t move as my lifelong friend unbuckles my leather belt and slowly unzips my pants. He releases my cock from its confines…is this really happening? Hana squirms under my touch and I can tell she is close to the edge, as Maxwell’s hot tongue curls around my shaft.

“Nikolas!”, Liam’s voice booms disapprovingly as he stands at the doorway, “are you on your mother’s laptop?”

A panic-stricken Nikolas, jolts from being caught, then squints his eyes as he watches his father approach him.

Liam towers over his young son, hands on his hips with a displeased glare. “Well…what do you have to say for yourself?”

Nikolas remains quiet for a moment before Liam presses him again for an answer. Without warning, he cries out, “You are a bad man daddy! A very bad man!”. He jumps off the bed, pushing himself past Liam, wailing and sobbing back to his room, where his door could be heard slamming shut.

The bathroom door opens and a towel clad Riley slips out, “What was that?”

Liam scratches his unkempt hair, perplexed at his son’s outburst, “I’m not sure. I caught him on your laptop before he told me I was a very bad man and cried himself out of the room”

Riley swiveled the laptop he left on the bed towards her, leaning over it in search of what caused her young child to explode. Her lips moved quietly as she read until, “YOU HAD A THREESOME WITH HANA AND MAXWELL?!”, she blinked wildly, “…my baby is gonna need therapy for life”.

Liam grabbed the device from her, “I most certainly did not”. He read the post for himself, gasping at each sentence, nodding his head incessantly, “No…No…animal sounds?…golden shower?…Hana milked our prostates? Drake escapes the dungeon and kills me with marine life?…I didn’t write this, I swear. I only wrote the first part and Bleakmore assured me she would give it a loving ending”.

Skeptical at his story, Riley points to the screen, “Look”, her eyes focus in as she points to the screen, reading aloud, “Never ask a Drake stan to betray him…You’ve been… Bleakmored”. She bites her lip to control the urge to laugh.

“Bleakmored?”, he sighs, “Bleakmored?…I hope she knows she has traumatized our son”, he closes his eyes in disbelief before Riley wraps her arms around his waste and draws him closer to her.

She stares up at her husband with a loving smile and sincerity, “I’m sorry you were Bleakmored…and…I’m sorry I wrote that story about Drake. You are the only man I want, My King”, she trails kisses across his neck and palms his hardened groin, “maybe you can finish your smut where you left off, with me”.

Liam shudders under the intensity of her hands moving in perfect motion, “Only if you let me… milk you, My Queen”.

Riley lips curl into a devilish grin “I’ll get the Vasoline and rubber gloves”.

Wacky Drabblers and Permatags: @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @jessiembruno @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @romanticatheart-posts @stopforamoment @katedrakeohd @pedudley @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @drakesensworld @ao719 @janezillow @eileendannie @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @hopefulmoonobject

[lost-eternity]

Match Up Requests: CLOSED.

Please read the rules before requesting

Match up for: @melancholicbutbeautiful

Okie dokie! I match you with....

The 9th doctor!

I know. This isn't everyone's favourite Doctor. He isnt as cute as the 10th or as puppy-man incarnate as the 11th but hear me out. I think he needs you.

Let's start simple, shall we?

He absolutely adores your height.

Standing at an impressive 182cm (6 feet), the 9th would be all over you. He's got a good 18 cm on you. Fully expect him to be "accidentally" leaning on your head and cracking short jokes at the most inappropriate times.

You're running from Daleks (it's an occupational hazard)? He'd say something along the lines of "hahah! I'm suprised they can even see you down there!" Cue and unamused glare from you. It's like.... we're trying not to die here and NOW you are making a short joke? Seriously?

~

You both probably meet at a museum. One of those quirky wax museums. Life-like historical figures expertly sculpted in wax, their empty eyes somehow full with false life. It combines both your passion for history and art, enabling you to walk up close to these esteemed figures who shaped our society.

But you can't focus on the wax creations, nor the historical excerpts that come with them. Instead, you keep getting this unnerving feeling like your being watched. When you turn around, you catch this one guy staring at you. So you look back at him like ???. And instead of quickly looking away like a NORMAL person would he just continues to stare.

So now things are awkward and your kinda tempted to reach for your keys. You know. Just in case.

And that is when you feel someone grabbing you from behind. Weirdly cold hands wrap around your arm, constricting you in a white-knuckle grip. Spikes of numbness shoot up your arm as the blood circulation is cut off to your hand.

You whirl around to face your attacker and are like ???. Why the HELL is Bob Ross attacking you? Like. What?

That was when the fire alarm began to go off.

Before you could react much, someone full on BEHEADED Bob Ross. He immediately releases you and promptly walks himself into a wall. The now headless wax Bob Ross backs up, then moves forward again. Then hits the wall. Rinse and repeat.

The guy who was staring at you earlier, now clutching the ironically red fire axe. Guess you now know who pulled the alarm.

The expression on this guy is borderline mianical as he Cheshire grinned at you. "Hi! What's your name?"

"Uh... y/n..."

"Nice to meet you, y/n, I am the Doctor. Now. Run!"

He grabs your hand and you charge for the exit, herding everyone else out of the museum as more and more wax figures come to life.

Springing into animation, they kinda slowly amble after you. It's not exactly efficient but it is pretty damn threatening.

This moment lead you into a series of events that eventually concluded in you both accidentally almost blowing up Big Ben to stop and alien hive mind from taking over Earth.... whoops. Not that it mattered to much. Because despite the terror and confusion that seemed to now be perpetually stricken in your mind, you had the time of your life.

But despite your pestering and begging, the Doctor adamantly refused to allow you to tag along on his next adventure. He wouldn't explain why. Instead he just dropped you off at your house, swearing to wipe your memory if you spoke a word of this to anyone.

Of course, you called him out on it, asking him if you could meet the "Men in Black" later.

He wasnt amused by your jab, saying that you reminded him of someone who we couldn't afford to lose again... and then promptly vanished after that

At first you thought you would never see him again. That he was just a phantom that emerged in your life, a chance crossing that never should have been. The moment your life was touched by something bigger... greater than the mundane reality you have been so long trapped it.

It was intoxicating. Addicting.

But as fate would have it, you did meet again. Except this time you weren't saving him from a domineering alien race, or robotic tin cans that sewed a path of destruction. No. You were saving him from himself.

~

Cut off from his own kind, the 9th Doctor was a damaged man, disparagingly grieving over the intense suffering he had witnessed; the destruction he had inflicted on his people as the result of his own actions.

He tore himself up, berated himself. Told himself that he did not deserve to be alive. After all, he was a monster in human skin. Because only a monster could cause the pain he had

The doctor struggled with the idea of isolation, he was the last of the Time Lords, having left the conflict with the excruciating knowledge of his hand in its apparent grisly conclusion and he would react strongly if pushed on the matter.

And for whatever reason, he came to you. You found him delirious and beaten down on your porch step, rambling, hardly making sense of himself and... glowing a little? Wtf?

You took him in, and only did not call for emergency care at his persistence and mumbled pleading. After doing the rather peculiar things he instructed and gave him a few questionable concoctions, the glowing stopped and he checked out.

You were up all night worrying yourself sick over this man. This stranger that you hardly even knew. I guess it is just the kind of person you are.

You were there when he awoke in the morning, calling out for you. At least you think it was you because he never said your name. Instead called for a "Rose". You weren't sure if this "rose" was a person or another wacky demand on his part.

You never did find out exactly what happened to him. From what he would say, he had an encounter with an alien species that really kicked his ass. Although you thought there was something more to it than that. Some more emotional undertones and reconciliation. You also did not understand why he came to you. You hardly knew each other. There was definitely something he was not telling you.

Whenever you asked who Rose was, he merely dismissed you or cracked a joke about your height. If you continued to press the matter, he would quickly get very snappy and drop his energized, maniacal façade.

It was after this moment that the Doctor agreed to allow you on the TARDIS with him. And you officially became his traveling companion. However. It was never all sunshine and rainbows. Although it was a rare occurrence, the Doctor would occasionally slip up and call you "Rose" again. He would always act like nothing happened and deny it if you brought it up. It was clear that this Rose person had a major impact on his life so... what happened to her?

~

So. I think you would be wonderful with the 9th Doctor because of your empathy and compassion. You unconditional understanding and empathic nature would definitely be unnerving for the Doctor at first. He feels like he does not deserve a person like you in his life. You are too good and pure. He fears that he will hurt you. So he pushes you away like he always does.

And this is why he needs you. I beleive that you would not stop pursuing him. Healing him. Your compassion and life would be what slowly seals up the wounds of his past and his own self-inflicted hatred.

He will finally be able to see his own worth because of you. And that was the primary reason I had for matching the 9th doctor with you. He is the one who needs someone like you the most.

Also. While you are genuinely empathic and loving, you will not allow yourself to be walked over. As you two grow closer, the 9th doctor will greatly appreciate your quips and sarcasm as it mirrors his own. You wont always be lost and confused like most of his companions end up being. Instead, you manage to keep pace with him. It's refreshing for him, honestly. And he will enjoy the playful banter exchanged between the two of you.

Also your dreams to travel align perfectly with the Doctor's noncommittal wanderlust shared by every single one of his incarnates. Your appreciation for other cultures and ways of life is something he can deeply relate to and will have a blast showing you more subtle cultures that may have otherwise bored his previous traveling companions.

~

Actually, as you two travel the universe together, you slowly grow closer and closer. The doctor begins to develop a kind of dependency on you. Because he only ever feels worthy of this love when he is around you.

Isolation really messes with his psyche. He can't handle being alone with his own thoughts. They constantly remind him of the pain he had caused, jeering and taunting him. They tell him that he will just run away from you. Like he always does.

He probably will try.

Don't think he will get far.

As he opens up to you, he finally tells you about Rose. Who she was. What she meant to him (I'm making this an AU where Rose died somewhere along the way).

And the realization is painful.

You dont just REMIND him of Rose. He is PRETENDING that you are Rose. Because for him that is much easier than coming to terms with her death.

I mean. Can you blame him? You look so much like her. Even down to your height.

All of those height jokes were made because of the way he used to tease Rose.

Your hair, your eyes, even your personality is a painful reminder of her. Which is why is tried to abandon you the first time. It is also why he showed up at your house when he got hurt.

He was running on empty and just instinctually went to the place he knew he would be the safest. At your house. With the person he sees as Rose Tyler.

Honestly it's not psychologically healthy.

So now you have a choice.

Do you want to remain with the guy who is clearly still hung up over his ex? Going so far as to convince himself that you ARE Rose? Or do you think you can work with him. Help him. Heal him and allow him to reconcile with not only her death, but the deaths of his own kind.

I guess that decision is up to you...

Aaand, I am done! Whew. Sorry that one ended on such a downer. Haha. But most of the Doctors are psychologically traumatized and their coping mechanisms are super unhealthy. I would feel like I am betraying his character if I did not find some way to portray that. Anyways. I hope you enjoyed 😁. I had fun writing it.

[funtimebunnyblog]

Diamante d’Italia: Chapter 5

(Chapter 5: Another day in paradise)

Josuke grit his teeth, his chin resting in his hand as he held the phone slightly away from his ear, though the guffaw that continued to ring out from the speaker could still be very much heard.

He had already called his Mom to check in with her when he first woke up this morning and since he had the whole day ahead of him he waited until after a much needed shower to call his best friend.

That now seemed like a mistake after listening to him howl with laughter for almost five minutes now.

He winced as Crazy Diamonds hands ghosted over the mottled flesh of his back, sharp pinging following their careful movements as the stand dutifully patched him up.

He was just glad the bed made it easier to sit down with that one.

From what he saw in the bathroom mirror, where those junkies had kicked him in the back had left a bruise that was the size of a basket ball and it was as black and green as Rohans signature hair.

Spots of the same colours along with splotches of an ugly purple were also sprouting on his upper left arm and shoulder. Not to mention the particularly ugly one that was currently taking up residence on his thigh and.... a more unsavory place just slightly north of there.

He had definitely been right about hurting in the morning that's for sure because he practically yelped when rolling over, causing him to fall out of bed and onto the carpeted floor to add to it all.

Staring up into the face of Crazy Diamond looking down at him from where he laid half-whimpering and aching all over was not a way he would recommend starting your day.

The fan of the hotel room spun slowly above him from where he sat on the huge marshmallowy bed in only a towel, his damp pale skin starting to dry and chill beneath the breeze.

"--so-so... lemme get this straight-... you..." Josuke rolled his eyes as Okuyasu struggled to keep his giggles in check over the phone. "You get there..... and-... hehehe.... and- not even like 2 hours.... -and you get beat up?"

"Yes." He sighed.

"BWAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"--oh Josuke!" He wheezed into the receiver, dying down into giggles again. "--I'm so sorry buddy- but that's.... -that's funny.... oww... owww my stomach..."

Josuke grunted, pulling the phone away from his head to avoid going deaf in his right ear as more barking laughter rang out.

He could practically feel Crazy Diamonds own eyeroll as they continued their ministrations on his back.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He groaned. "Just don't tell Mom, I don't want her to worry about me."

"So what happened after? You must've gotten away somehow right? Did CD put them in their place?" His words were almost drowned out by the obnoxious crinkling of a bag in the background, followed by the unmistakable crunch of potato chips drilling into his eardrum.

"No. I didn't even think about it. It was all happening so fast all I could think of was to grab hold of my suitcase and not let go."

"Oh man, you didn't lose your luggage did you?" Okuyasu questioned after swallowing his mouthful of junkfood very quickly. "Your Mom would have a fit!"

A smile found its way to Josukes face, "No actually. Someone helped me, oh man you should've seen him! He put a run to them and he was really cool too!"

Josuke proceeded to tell Okuyasu all about the one and only Abbacchio and their time together along with meeting Bucciarati.

He spared no details in telling him all about the scrumptious meal he had devoured that night, he could practically hear the other teenager drooling all over the phone as he described the juicy details of prosciutto stuffed chicken breast.

Bruno looked very anxious and warned him it was very dangerous to wander the streets at night, most especially when he was a tourist carrying all his possessions that didn't know where to go.

After Josuke had eaten last night, Bruno asked him if he was staying somewhere and the teenager realized he had completely forgotten about finding a Hotel!

The streets by then were dark and it was late, they had talked for so long but the time had just flew right bye. Jouske had grabbed his bag and thanked the two men graciously for the food and their company, making sure he bowed deeply in respect as he done so, about to head out to find one before he was stopped.

More importantly, he wouldn't even be able to read any signs leading to a Hotel.

Josuke realized he had gotten ahead of himself and accepted the mans proposal to take him to the Hotel a few blocks away, which he did and Josuke had to say, the place was like paradise on Earth.

The building itself was huge! Not to mention high-class. The lobby had a chandelier that was the size of his Livingroom back home! And the fountain in the center of it was bigger than the one outside his School!

Bruno chuckled seeing the owlish expression on his face as they entered through the glass sliding doors, the reflection of the golden lights above them on the polished white marble floor made his baby blue eyes sparkle. Abbacchio simply opted for staying outside and smoking a much needed cigarette while his partner helped Josuke arrange a room.

"Oh man!" Okuyasu said through another mouthful of chips. "That sounds A-B-C-Delicious! I wanna eat that!"

"You'll have to bug Tonio about it if you're that eager." Josuke laughed. "Speaking of food, you've eaten a full meal today right?"

The crunching came to a sudden stop.

"Define--"

"As in you've eaten something cooked and not just junkfood." He interrupted, drumming his fingers on his knee, he already knew his answer however.

Silence... he could actually hear the sounds of Stray Cat (whom both boys had taken to aptly nicknaming 'Guns and Roses') purring along with the feint sound of the TV playing in the background.

"Okuyasu!"

"Sorry! I'll eat real food tomorrow!" He whined. "I just forgot is all!"

"I've actually just been binge watching this goofy tv series. I've heard about it for a while but I finally decided to get into it. Man, I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow, I've been sitting on my ass for so long!" He cackled.

Josuke huffed, however deciding to not press him further on the matter and take his word.

Okuyasu needed to take better care of himself and Josuke usually had to remind him of the importance of it, along with helping his friend pilot through all his emotional troubles.

"It's this Anime thing called 'Dodo's Wacky Quest'. It's pretty good!" There was a pause as a indignant 'meow' sounded close to the phone, followed by more rustling of the chip bag. Okuyasu grunted, the phone crackling  as he moved to hand the living plant a chip. "The series is pretty long though. But hopefully I'll have most of it done by the time you get back."

'Speak for yourself...' Josuke thought, shifting slightly on the bed to try and inevitably get more comfortable.

Crazy Diamond was almost finished with his back, the worst one was next.

"What series is it?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Huh," Josuke rubbed his chin, smiling. "I'll have to watch some of it with you."

"That'd be cool! Dodo kinda reminds me of you actually. I dunno if I've met any Jio in my life though, dude gives me the willies..."

Crazy Diamond leaned over him and tapped his leg, shooting him a look.

"I'd better go man. I'll try to talk to you tomorrow, remember your promise!" He said into the phone, turning away from his stand.

"Ok. Ok. I will. Jeeze..." the eyeroll he was getting was evident in the others voice. "Be safe JoJo!"

"I will. Bye."

He put the phone back in its cradle on the bedside stand and sighed, swatting away the phantom hands that pulled on the towel covering him and ignoring the exasperated 'Dora' as he shunted it aside himself.

'Lay on your stomach.' Came the telepathic order from Crazy Diamond. 'I can give you a massage after I'm done with the last bruise to help relax you further.'

He was just glad he didn't decide to tell Okuyasu about his last bruise, otherwise he would've probably passed out from laughter, resulting in Josuke to have to end the call promptly.

He'd never be able to live this down from his stand alone....

☆☆☆

There was so much he wanted to do, and so much he wanted to see. He decided to leave his suitcase behind within the safety of his room (not wanting a repeat of yesterday) carrying just his wallet, a disposable camera his Mom had given him to take pictures and his handy dandy comb of course.

Finally walking again and not shuffling along uncomfortably like an old man (as he had been doing earlier), Josuke strutted downstairs to the lobby without a hair out of place.

His precious mane had been properly lathered, rinsed, gelled, combed and hairsprayed and he was ready to tackle the day!

The golden charms adorning his uniform gleamed like his eyes and he walked with pep in his step, shoes shined and clicking on the polished marble floor.

He needed to tackle business first before he went about to getting some breakfast. He had already had a cup of strong instant coffee after the massage given to him by his stand, using the machine inside of his room (this Hotel really had everything).

"Hello." He greeted the lady at the desk in the lobby, a woman in her sixties with greying hair pulled back into a bun, maroon lipstick and matchig rectangular spectacles. "I was just wondering if I could pay for my nightly stay now and maybe pay for tomorrow too?"

"Can I have your name, dear?" She asked, already typing away on the keyboard of the large white box computer before her.

"Josuke Higashikata. J-O-S-U-K-E."

Her long black nails clicked and clacked away loudly on the keyboard, he watched in silence as her dark red lips pursed, her eyes scanning the screen.

"It says here you're already covered for your full stay."

'Embarrassing' wouldn't be a word he would use to describe a situation where he had to call his Nephew and demurely ask if he could get a lift home like a drunk teenager calling a half-alseep Parent in the middle of the night.

He blinked at her, raising both his eyebrows.

"Umm... I don't think that's right. I only booked the room last night..." he trailed off, feeling his heart starting to pound in his chest.

He prayed to God this somehow wouldn't end with him being in debt with no way home.

She hummed, "It says you're fully covered. You just need to inform the Hotel of the date you're departing and a direct deposit is already in order." She explained.

That answered absolutely none of his questions.

"How is that possible?" He asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm as he rubbed the back of his neck idly.

More typing and clicking.

"It says here that your stay has been covered by..... a Mr. Bruno Bucciarati. He arranged for the bill to be footed to him." Came her reply at last, turning in her chair to look at him.

It took the Highschooler a moment to process that, blinking like an idiot as she stared at him.

What.... when.... how did..... why did....?

"Oh.... uh.... I-I see. Thank you." He told the older woman at last, with a half-hearted wave goodbye as he left the lobby, out into the world of golden sunshine awaiting him outside.

Each question seemed to short-circuit in his brain, he couldn't decide on what to ask first.

Josuke finally realized he was lingering and staring as the old woman addressed him again, before averting his eyes, his face tinging a little pink.

Why on Earth would the man put himself through so much trouble? Paying out of his pocket for him at a Hotel where people who looked like they wiped their asses with dollar bills stayed there no less! It didn't make sense!

This Hotel seemed a little one the pricy side, he had actually been wary about staying here the night but didn't want to be rude and ask Bucciarati to take him to another Hotel, so he decided to risk it and see how much it was the next day (silently praying he wouldn't be dialing Jotaro Kujo afterwards with a speech prepared of course).

This however changed everything.

He was still a virtual stranger to Bruno and his partner, and he didn't feel like he had earned such a kind gesture. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that both men were wealthy but this just felt akin to stealing in Josukes eyes.

It was the least he could do. It's what he wanted to do. It's what he was raised to do.

Josuke leaned up against the stone wall of the Hotel, considering his options. He could tell the Hotel that wasn't necessary and to cancel that previous order and allow him to pay.

Or he could find Bucciarati again (it couldn't be that hard) and offer to pay him back, if not in money maybe he could do something in return for him.

That did it.

He took one last look at the Hotel to remember the name as he prepared to cross the street (he needed something to go off of if he was gonna find a way back afterall).

He had a new mission added onto today.

He was going to do some sight seeing, eat some more damn delicious food and keep his eyes open for either one of the men he dined with last night.

"Albergo brillante Diamante..." he murmured, absentmindedly scratching his cheek as he did his best to pronounce the words (in what he hoped was the correct manor).

"Hmm... wonder what that means."

All he truly knew was that he Josuke Higashikata, had a mission he was going to see through today.

...

He mentally added 'buying a dictionary' to his list today as he narrowly avoided a car coming in the street, yelling out a "Sorry!" To the driver laying on his horn (who wasn't supposed to have the right away).

[To be coninued... 》

[seehowsupplethespineis]

19th Century Literary Misfits Go Vampire Hunting Because Van Helsing Said So

(Yeah, I wrote more. I can’t help it! There’s so much potential in their individual stories for wacky crossovers! Anyway, I hope you enjoy, my fellow 19th century literature nerds! If you want to know what this is all about, here’s the first story and the companion piece to that.)

(Characters include Van Helsing from Dracula, Moreau from The Island of Doctor Moreau, Griffin from The Invisible Man, Frankenstein from Frankenstein, Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray, Hyde from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Moriarty from one of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment.)

(Note: When you see “<...>,” someone’s speaking Russian.)

(Warnings: Blood, violence, killing (not of a human), mentions of murdering innocents, nudity (Griffin gets naked but he’s, you know, invisible...))

A breeze swept through the night air, stirring the branches of nearby trees and causing old buildings to groan. Mist shrouded the city and dampened the ground, hanging on dew laden leaves. Every noise seemed mysterious and alien. A soft clicking joined the night sounds. It intensified as the cold winds brushed past an unseen shape, sending the coat it wore waving.

“C-Can we go b-back now?” The clicking stopped momentarily as a disgruntled voice arose. The arms of the coat wrapped themselves tightly about the invisible shape.

“Not yet, Griffin,” Van Helsing said, not taking his eyes from the open patch of ground in front of them where a lone man stood, “She’ll be here any moment.”

“Then c-can I go back?” The invisible man’s teeth chattered even harder.

“No, your invisibility may be of use to us.”

“For what? You s-said these things can smell blood!”

“You may still surprise her.”

“You only let me w-wear a coat! I’m freezing! And besides, w-we brought H-Hyde for all that fighting n-nonsense!”

Hyde lay concealed beside them. He looked up as they mentioned his name, “Is she here?” he asked excitedly.

“Not yet, but soon.” Van Helsing assured.

Hyde bounced up and down where he crouched, a devilish smile plastered to his face. When Van Helsing had enlisted his housemates’ aid in taking down one of the blood-sucking monsters he always went on about, Hyde had been the first to volunteer. Everyone had ended up going, though, under threat of eviction.

Moreau was the only one who’d also wanted to come; a being that could turn from human to bat was most certainly one he wished to study. The vivisectionist peeked with rapt attention out from behind the bushes they were concealed in.

Van Helsing had asked for a volunteer beforehand to lure the “vampire,” as he called it, in. Frankenstein had shrugged and offered himself as bait. For once, everyone was glad of the scientist’s morose attitude.

“What have I got to lose?” he’d said before trekking out into the open.

Now they all lay in wait. The vampire had been seen in this part of town over the past few days, so there was no reason to suspect it wouldn’t strike again tonight.

Moriarty sat further back from the rest, a blanket he’d brought keeping him from touching the filthy ground, “How much longer must we wait for an imaginary phantom?” he sighed, resting his hands primly on his knees.

Van Helsing turned to glare at him, “It is not imaginary. I have seen plenty of vampires in my time. We must deal with it before it has the chance to move on and turn some poor soul into one of its kind.”

“Let me get this straight,” Gray spoke up with a yawn, “some lady dies from, and I’m quoting you, ‘being drained of her blood by a bat each night,’ which means she must have become one of these vampires when she died, so we’ve got to reel her in, stake her heart, chop off her head, and stuff it with garlic?”

“Yes,” Van Helsing nodded, then froze, “Where is the garlic necklace I gave you?”

“I threw it into an alley somewhere back there,” Gray pointed vaguely back the way they came, “It smelled awful.”

“That garlic could very well have saved your life!” Van Helsing exclaimed angrily, “Now you have no protection!”

“We need no protection from phantasms, professor.” Moriarty scoffed.

Van Helsing glanced at him and sagged, “I see you got rid of your necklace as well!”

“I tossed it aside before Mr Gray did.”

The old man sighed in deep irritation and squinted into the shadows to the left of him, “<Rodion Romanovich, please tell me you kept your garlic.>”

Raskolnikov held the chain of vegetables up into the moonlight for Van Helsing to see. The old man sighed in relief.

“Dr Moreau? Did you dispose of your garlic?”

“No! I’m not an idiot like these two!” the vivisectionist shook his head, “I actually read up on vampires.”

So saying, he shook the garlic around his neck and returned to keeping watch.

Hyde looked at them all with surprise, “How come you guys didn’t eat yours?”

Everyone turned to stare at the crouched man, noting the cloves that had spilled on the ground around him and the empty twine still draped over his neck.

“You… ate yours?” Van Helsing said slowly with an eerie calmness belying his fury.

“Sure did!” Hyde affirmed, grinning.

The coat lying beside him jerked away suddenly, “Yeah, he did! I can smell it in his breath.”

“What’s the matter, air head?” Hyde asked, “Not a fan of garlic?”

He breathed out in Griffin’s direction and the scientist sputtered and crawled away, making Hyde giggle maniacally.

The invisible man gave an angry sigh and threw aside the garlic necklace around his neck, “Forget this! I’m going home!”

“You can’t! She might catch you!” Van Helsing protested.

“Anything’s better than this idiot!” Griffin said and stood to his full height.

Suddenly a pale woman was leaping from out of nowhere and tackling the unsuspecting scientist. Griffin fell to the ground with a cry of alarm and rolled out from the bushes.

“It’s the vampire!” Van Helsing had jumped to his feet the second he saw the creature descending and raised his stake of wood, “Attack!”

The vampire looked up as she saw there were others with Griffin. She dragged him back and lifted him by his coat. Confusion flashed across her face as she found no evidence of a neck.

This brief hesitation was all Hyde needed to spring on top of her, eliciting a surprised screech. Griffin shrugged out of his coat as her hold slackened and stumbled away, his trail marked by imprints in the damp grass.

Moreau and Raskolnikov followed Van Helsing’s lead while Gray and Moriarty hung back, utterly flabbergasted by the events unfolding before them. Then they were both diving for the remnants of garlic Hyde had left behind.

Frankenstein turned around as he heard the sounds of struggle behind him, to see Van Helsing, Hyde, and Moreau confronting a pallid woman of unearthly beauty who was snarling viciously. Raskolnikov dashed up, withdrawing his ax from a loop in his coat, once again holding it the wrong way. The vampire threw Hyde to the side just as Raskolnikov neared and pounced on the Russian, sending his ax tumbling into the short grass. Frankenstein snapped out of his daze and sprinted forward just as Van Helsing leveled his stake at the monster and Moreau lunged with another stake in hand.

Then the woman was changing, her limbs shrinking, ears growing, wings extending.

“She’s turning into a bat!” Van Helsing shouted as the vampire started to take flight, hissing at the garlic around Raskolnikov’s neck.

“Incredible!” Moreau cried, dropping his stake, eyes alight with joy as he watched the vampire ascend, “She’s marvelous!”

“Not now, Doctor!” Van Helsing yelled, though the situation was already well in hand.

Hyde hadn’t wasted a second and launched himself right off the ground. He grabbed the vampire by her wings and she shrieked in anger as they began to descend. The two landed with a crash back in the bushes. Moriarty and Gray scattered immediately with what little garlic they had collected.

The vampire rounded on Hyde and dove for his neck. Hyde opened his mouth and let out a long exhale right into her furry face. She choked and shrank away with a small scream, giving Van Helsing enough time to race over and stab the beast straight through its small chest. The screaming stopped instantly.

“<Quick, Rodion Romanovich!>” At the old man’s summons, Raskolnikov rolled to his feet, retrieved his ax, and brought it down on the bat’s neck, narrowly missing Hyde’s hand. Frankenstein proceeded to grab up the garlic still around the Russian’s neck and shove it into the severed head. Then they all sat back and stared.

Moreau pushed past them and knelt by the creature. He ran a finger along its limp wing.

He looked up after a few moments, “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen! To change from human to bat like that is… wow! I need to study the body!”

Van Helsing gestured tiredly, “Be my guest.”

Moreau gave a small, almost childish squeal and gathered up the vampire pieces.

“I agree with with the doc!” Hyde said. He had twigs stuck in his long hair and scratches across his face, though none of it detracted from his smile of triumph, “Let’s do that again!”

“Where’d everyone else go?” Frankenstein interrupted, glancing around.

“They all ran off, apparently.” Van Helsing replied.

“Not everyone.” The four gathered all looked about them, seeing no one.

The discarded coat lifted itself off the ground and slowly filled out as Griffin put it back on. “I’d yell at you for nearly getting me killed or vampire-ized but I’m freezing c-cold so can we go home now?”

“Yes, Griffin, we can go home.” Van Helsing said and struggled to stand up from the grass he was seated in. Raskolnikov bounced to his feet and offered a hand. Smiling, the professor accepted the help.

The six of them trudged back to their house. Only Moreau seemed to have a spring in his step, eager to return to his lab. Frankenstein glanced over the other scientist’s shoulder, clearly interested. He forcefully drew his gaze away, though; he felt tremendous guilt any time he had any sort of scientific curiosity and wouldn’t tell anyone why.

Van Helsing glanced at the ax in Raskolnikov’s grip, “<That ax of yours has been handy to us on more than one occasion, but I must ask, why do you have it?>”

Raskolnikov was suddenly very pale. His shoulders tensed and he lowered his gaze, then lifted it with new resolve and a wan smile, “<You never know when you might need it.>”

Van Helsing nodded, “<Right.>”

Raskolnikov gave a small, spasmodic laugh and hurried forward.

They met up with Moriarty and Gray back at the house. Both tried to appear calm and collected, though there was obvious fear in their eyes.

“You, er, disposed of it, then?” Moriarty asked, eyeing the dead bat spilling blood on Moreau’s hands.

“Yeah, now move!” Griffin shoved past the professor and threw himself beside the fireplace, flinging his damp coat away.

“Do you believe me now, gentlemen?” Van Helsing asked, just a touch smugly.

“Guess so…” Gray murmured.

Moriarty shifted uneasily, “In light of the new evidence, it would be foolish to say no.”

Moreau sprinted past them and up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut. Frankenstein watched wistfully after him and walked slowly to his own quarters. Moriarty and Gray made hasty excuses and retired. Raskolnikov seemed to have suddenly become ill and moved jerkily to his room, bidding a faint “<Good night>” as he left.

Hyde brushed off his hat and moved back toward the door, “Well, I’m off! The night is young and there’s a whole world of mischief to explore!”

“Please don’t kill anyone!” Van Helsing implored, “It’s getting harder to calm the mobs!”

“Don’t you worry your big head, professor! I won’t kill anyone-”

“Thank-”

“-important.”

“What?”

“Maybe some homeless vagabond or lowly shop owner. Or perhaps a baby! Just kidding! I’m not that much of a monster. Or am I? I’ll see when I get there!”

He threw open the door and started hopping away before Van Helsing could protest, “See ya tomorrow maybe!”

Van Helsing heaved a deep sigh, “Please be Jekyll tomorrow…”

“He’s usually Jekyll in the daytime so I wouldn’t worry.”

Van Helsing jumped and spun toward the fireplace, “Oh, Griffin! I didn’t…” he trailed off.

There was a short pause before Griffin spoke again, in a quiet, intense voice.

“Didn’t what?”

Van Helsing glanced sheepishly at the floor.

“Say it.” Griffin prompted.

Van Helsing looked up to where he figured the voice had come from, “... see you.”

“That’s what I thought.” There was a shuffling as Griffin got to his feet, “Good night.”

Van Helsing winced, berating himself for his slip up. The stairs creaked as Griffin went up them, leaving the professor alone. Or maybe not; Griffin was known to pretend to go upstairs only to remain on the first floor to spy on everyone else.

With that thought in mind, Van Helsing shivered and retreated to the study for some reading before bed, closing the door behind him.

[nightslain]

So I guess it’s that time of day where I get up on my soap box to once again talk about the incongruities and gaping chasms in the Netflixvania plot that have yet to be addressed, specifically those that strengthen the case for why shoehorning Leon into this mess divorced of his supporting cast and story is probably a Bad Idea. 

TL;DR I am perpetually tortured by the fact nothing makes sense right now so I am going to whinge exhaustively in a post to exorcise myself of misery and potentially spare my poor friend’s ears.

So. The show’s version of the origin story has not been properly detailed in any meaningful length except for the fact that a) Leon is indeed the patriarch of the Belmont family and b) he entered Wallachia specifically to hunt for Dracula. Sounds like the same story beats from LoI at face value, but just like everything else about this house of cards, it completely falls apart under the faintest bit of scrutiny. I’ve beat the dead horse of Mathias no longer being canon enough as it is, but Mathias is arguably the most pivotal character in the entire story. You cannot make a Castlevania adaptation that excludes his history and expect it to make actual sense. If you remove Mathias, you dismantle every facet of the plot in one fell swoop, especially if you’re going to try and wedge Leon Belmont into your story without him. The two are mutually exclusive, you cannot have one without the other unless you completely rewrite the canon to follow a wholly different trajectory that is free of those trappings (i.e Lords of Shadow, which I do not like, but I appreciate that it was trying to do something totally different and therefore don’t take great issue with it.)

And I would have accepted this level of reimagining was the show’s intention, if Leon wasn’t paid such a heaping dose of aggressive lip service to indisputably assert him as this universe’s Belmont patriarch as well. But put in context with the rest Ellis’ interpretation as is, this just ends up making no God damn sense.

Dracula has been explicitly stated to be the first vampire to exist in this universe. That solidly affirms that Mathias is not canon, so therefore Leon’s history with him is also non existent. So in turn, that logically means Walter Bernhard also never existed, Mathias never hatched that elaborate plot with him to betray Leon, Sara was never kidnapped, Leon never had to rescue her, she was never bitten by Walter, her soul was never sacrificed to make the Vampire Killer. So what did happen, then? If Dracula was never Mathias, then what the fuck was he up to in the 11th century? Getting his distance mirror apparently, which he made an oddly specific point of mentioning he acquired 400 years prior to the events of season two, which would have been approximately 1075. This would leave us 19 years prior to Lament of Innocence, so presumably Dracula was already a vampire when Leon was just a child. Which in itself just more effectively dispatches any expectations of their history together being the same or even just similar to what it was in LoI. 

Albeit, Trevor treats us to some pretty loaded exposition in saying that the Belmont family hailed from France, moving to Wallachia when “the dark things all moved into the east”--followed by Alucard affirming that Leon was in Wallachia looking specifically for Dracula. So Dracula and his monsters were obviously in France at some point in this canon causing a stink that attracted Leon’s notice--we also have evidence of this with one of the storyboard artists drawing Leon in his knightly garb slaying said monsters. But if Dracula was never Mathias in Ellis’ interpretation, what was he even doing dicking around in France in the first place? And furthermore, what did he do to convince Leon to chase him into the east as well as devote his life and the life of every Belmont after him to killing Dracula specifically? Because it’s gonna be a pretty weak downgrade in motivation from the original story if he just wants to kill Dracula because Vampires Are Evil ™, or Dracula just offhandedly killed someone important to him without nary a drop of history behind them to give it weight.

Also another discrepancy between these two canons is Leon is still a knight when he goes into the east whereas he gave up his knighthood in the games; this is quite boldly showcased by his depiction in that big ass painting as well as the fact his sword is present in the Belmont hold--which is also coincidentally the thing that kills Dracula, not the Vampire Killer. And oh yeah, how the fuck is the Vampire Killer here if the whole plot behind its existence has been effectively erased? I repeat, it’s going to be a weak downgrade if it came from anything less than the tragedy of Sara Trantoul’s sacrifice--which its starting to seem like it will be, based on everything else that’s been exorcised from the show canon.

There’s just no sensible way to knit these two interpretations together at this point if Ellis is going to dig in his heels and maintain that Dracula’s history as Mathias is not part of his vision, so I really can’t say I’m sure what in God’s name he’s going to inject into the story to fill this gaping hole he’s gnawed into the canon. I strongly believe Leon should just have been quietly excluded if the most vital elements of his story have been erased along with Mathias as well. I would not be here complaining about this at all if Leon hadn’t been forced into this version of Castlevania unnecessarily, which then just opened up a black hole of inconsistencies. Why even add him? Why have your main cast keep talking about him? Why sprinkle in fresh lore about him? Why make his sword the thing that kills Dracula? Why do all this if he’s going to be either a non-entity in the future of the show, or you’re going to just ignore the entirety of the canon that he is inextricably attached to?

This is why I’m kind of in a purgatorial relationship with the show right now as we wait for season three; I have no idea if there’s going to be even a molecule of exposition showing off the “New and Improved” vision for Leon’s and Dracula’s backstory--a part of me finds their constant chatter about Leon a little too heavy-handed for his character and history to just be swept under the rug thereafter, but another part of me is pretty solidly convinced the show isn’t even going to attempt to address that elephant in the room from here.

However, if Alucard’s going to be left by his lonesome with nothing but his father’s castle and the Belmont library, then he better be busting his ass down there reading up on some Belmont family history. Because honestly? There really is no other purpose his character can serve when isolated from the rest of the cast, the action and the plot, besides acting as a vehicle for exposition. I’d like to believe that this was the intention behind that very sudden and very off-handed plot point of Trevor bestowing his family’s library upon him in season 2. Why else do that and then just leave him there? If Alucard is just going to be steered back into the fray early into the new season, then what was even the point of having the team go their separate ways? 

Anyways. I’ve said before I really wouldn’t mind if the staff decided to rewrite Dracula and Leon’s history together a little due to the bizarre and convoluted nature of LoI’s plot which definitely needs a fresh coat of paint, and I still maintain that; but they seem to be both borrowing the outline of the premise while erasing the primary facets that made it work, and I’m entirely confused about how they’re going to actualise such a shaky narrative structure. Not very well, judging by this janky mess of plotholes they’ve dug for themselves--if they don’t just conveniently forget to ever address it again, I’m half sure their answers to these questions are going to be some wacky nonsense that probably even further diminishes the symbolic importance of the story as a whole.

If the show completely erases any meaningful relationship between Dracula and Leon as well as the gravity behind the Vampire Killer’s origins, then it will have truly sunk to a whole new depth. These are the only things I am begging Ellis not to fuck up. You know, the entire crux of Castlevania’s plot as we know it, and the entire reason this story is even playing out in this universe the way it is.

There’s no shortage of us already frustrated with his treatment of the canon as it is, and its a damn shame. I really like a lot of things about the show. The animation is still gorgeous, the music is wonderful, the atmosphere is great, and I felt genuinely moved by some of the scenes they curated for us. I appreciate the hard work the team as a whole has poured into it in the limited time frame they have to complete every season. There’s no taking away from the fact that the show has value in many areas. But Ellis to date has sadly cocked up more facets of the story than he has improved, which is what is consistently holding the show back. As much as I crave answers from this series though, I’m equally as afraid that I am not going to like them when I get them. Or that Leon’s character is going to get dragged backwards through a thorn-bush should he ever appear in the flesh.

I would love nothing more than season three to blow me away and restore my faith in the future of the series but at this point, I’d honestly settle for a few minutes of icon material and whatever answers there are so I can finally leave this bespoke Silent Hill Ellis’ writing has crafted for me, amen and good night.

[wackygoofball]

Gwenspiration: The Wacky Version Vol. 1 - The Fanfics

As threatened/promised, I am tooting the horn in a number of posts, following the most kind call of @jaimebrienneonline.

I decided to begin with fanfic as JB fanfiction was my way into the fandom when a kind voice, long time ago, lured me over to the wonderful world which is JBO. And ever since that day I found both my home and my people. 

I am not going in a particular order because like my non-existent children, I kind of love and love to hate all of my fics equally.

But, for matters of scrolling convenience, I will put this list below a cut:

Childhood Friends has a special place in my heart because it is one of the two fics that got me into the fandom, and it is of the rare species of completed Wacky WIPs. The story marked my first tender steps in the canon as I was still catching up on show and book knowledge but got instantly hooked on the JB dynamic and just *had* to write fanfiction about them, albeit not yet knowing just what the frack Westeros even looked like on a map. I simply was intrigued by the idea of how the lives of our OTP may have played out differently if only they had met at a younger age, only to run into one another time and time again over the years, until at last, the circumstances seem to be in their favor. Writing that fic was a challenge because, for one, it got finished, which is incredibly hard for me to to do, and it is a coming of age story of sorts, which is not necessarily what I am used to writing. Nonetheless, it was a project that got me firmly into the fandom, which is why I am always remembering the process (and the writer’s panic) somewhat fondly, and always smile like an idiot when someone finds that old fic of mine and leaves a kudo or even a comment, reminding me of those early beginnings of my JB shipping career.

Choices likely has to be mentioned in the same vein, despite its crucial difference being that it went on a very, very, veeeeeery long hiatus and yet has to awaken (some prince wanting to give it a smooch to maybe bring it back to life? Would be much appreciated!). It was born out of the wish of exploring the infamous what if of Jaime and Brienne already getting intimate while on the road back to King’s Landing - as a matter of necessity/convenience, only for the misfortunate/very fortunate circumstance that Brienne winds up pregnant after their one time together. I enjoyed/would very much to enjoy again to write the character studies on how they deal not just with the issue of parenthood but also with their insecurities regarding their feelings for one another, which inspires more than one ill-made choice (*roll credits*) for either one of them as neither one dares to call love what actually is just that, hiding instead behind missions and honor, parenthood and duty, and fractured pasts that leave them wondering just who they became thanks to each other.

Colour Verses is a series that was born out of my first ever (I believe) JB Appreciation Week. OMG, it’s been so long. The theme of colors really had me inspired, which is why those pieces, which can be read in succession and independently, have a soft spot in my Wacky heart.

The Shredding Project, I believe, deserves an honorary mention despite its utter lack of completion for some of its parts and a happy ending for some of the tales shredded in this part of the fandom. I have a great passion for fairytales and deconstructing them, which inspired this undertaking of twisting and turning aka shredding all those stories into new models to fit Jaime and Brienne into. In fact, the Shredding Project is much larger than it currently is on AO3, as most of the shredded stories still reside in a large, very large Word file on my computer (42 shreddings up to date with a total of 414k words *whispers* 414k mkaaaay, yes I *am* obsessed), and can be found in the respective thread on JBO, where one can read perhaps not an eloquently put-together retelling of favorite fairytales (and some Disney movies) but at least find a conclusion to every story and thus a happy ending, as befits a fairytale.

Bow Down is another story I would mean to include in this list. It came to mean a lot to me personally because I worked my way through it at a time when I was not really having the time of my life for a number of reasons. Thus, finishing that fic did a lot of things for me - and hopefully also with my oh so patient readers. The basic premise is how things would have developed, had Brienne failed to find Sansa and thus fully dedicate herself to the cause of the Blackfish during the Riverrun Siege whose bitterness is clouding his judgment, leaving Jaime in a tough position to choose between his family and the mannish woman he can’t help but care about as much as he does.

A Tale of Spring is one of those fics I wish to include in that already way too long tooting because a) it is a finished story, which is always a rarity in my Wacky world, and b) it is still a kind of headcanon I would have loved to come about in some capacity, as it leaves room for not just happy endings while at the same time giving space for futures to grow for JB as they are cautious to dream of their future past the Long Night, edging on a Dream of Spring.

Paths is one of those stories I am, yet again, very desperate to get back on track with (I mean, it is supposed to lead somewhere, title has it). This story means a lot to me because I just have so much in my head for how this is meant to conclude and just have to get over that one edge to finally ebb into the narrative direction I need this to go (aka follow the path *badum tssssss*). I suppose the story was very much fuelled by my love for G.I. Jane and the dynamic between Jordan O'Neil and John James Urgayle (and Viggo in those short shorts... way too short shorts... damn). At the same time, my aim with this fic is to show not just how tough JB can be and how much ass they can kick together but also how insecure they are beneath the tough surface and how they actually long for something way outside the line of fire.

Train Acquaintances, by contrast, is a rather self-indulgent fic I started to write and was surprised to have found an audience rather fast. I just really liked the theme of trains as a way for two people to meet while at the same time playing with the overly romanticized notion of trains and deconstructing it somewhat. They are a curious means of transportation, to put it mildly. And to then throw in Jaime trying to act smoothly when he is just acting like a dork most of his time was just too delicious to resist. While it’s been a long time (because my computer ate part of a chapter I found really important and that has frustrated me so much, I can’t even tell you), I remain intrigued writing this story because it has a rather distinct mood from what I normally tend to write. And awkward Jaime is just so much fun to write.

Washed Away is one of those fics I am so desperate to get back to that you woudln’t even believe - because it is the one fic most closely tied to the book canon. Its premise is the Lady Stoneheart situation yet to be resolved, wherein Brienne makes a dangerous gamble to save the man she knows is not guilty of the crimes Lady Stoneheart accuses him of, leaving them both to wrestle not just with the dilemmas of this overall situation but also their conflicting vows and feelings for one another.

In the Eyes of the Seven is one of those fics I am yet again very desperate to get back to (yes, I realize I type this sentence far too often, but it is the truth!) but have not yet found a way to bridge between two important plot points, currently creating a gap that keeps me from moving on to the next chapters. It is one of those narrative places where I nerd around freely and explore some mad medley of historical fiction inserted into the history of Westeros, taking up on the runaway nuns of the Reformation period and re-applying it to the Westerosi context by making it about septons and septas instead. While perhaps not a particularly popular story of mine, it is a story I very much enjoy writing as it gives opportunity for lots of introspection, insecurities, and the wish of both characters to break out of the boundaries of the norms set by a static system leaving no room for the likes of the Kingslayer and a woman fancying herself a sword as much as a book or a dress. In general, there are just so many ideas for it inside my head that I really hope to get back on track with that story because there is just so much more I want to tell the readers about in this strange tale.

May the Norns Bind Their Fate strikes a similar tune for me, as I get to gush about my mediocre-at-best knowledge of Norse mythology (albeit a great interest) and yet again change Westeros to my liking to insert the political system of the Viking era into this society (or rather my wacky interpretation thereof). For me, it is both an experiment in terms of perhaps (big perhaps) turning things a bit more heated than I am used to (for Wacky writes no smut, unless it is a literal accident, which only happened, like, once) and diving deep into aspects such as trauma and grief as well as fate and determinacy, since the idea of seers knowing your future has a very distinct appeal in my view, and how knowing one’s “fate” may affect the outcomes of the events. Thus, taking up on the challenge to deal with that in this fic still has me hooked - and I hope I am not the only one.

Last but not least...

An Honorable Man and a Just Woman is a story I am happy to have found an audience because it really gives me something personally to write it. Considering how sadly things played out in the show, I was in dire need of my own little fix-it and have since taken up on the challenge to entertain those questions of what would have changed had Jaime survived, what would be if he were declared King of the Six Kingdoms. Not only does that leave a humbled Jaime trying to find his place in a world he never thought he would see, having seen his ending long before he rode away from Winterfell, but it also leaves him and Brienne with the reality of what it is like to survive when so many died, and how to cope with how they parted and why. And while there are still so many things left unsaid and feelings left unexpressed, one can only hope that those two honorable and just people will eventually find their way around in the new world they are meant to build.

So yeah, I tooted a lot, and I still left out a whole bunch of my weird fanfic children, but those are the ones I feel a great deal of dedication to, even if, admittedly, a lot of them haven’t seen an update in ages. But rest assured, anyone reading this who dared to jump the Wacky train and read along, knowing very well that this strange woman struggles finishing a WIP most of her days, that I am still dedicated to each of those stories (as I am to any story I write). There are simply technicalities and real life not letting me dedicate as much of my time to it as I would need to finally get that final push ahead on a lot of them.

Be it as it may, in the spirit of Glorious Gwendoline Christie, here’s to my shameless self-promotion!

Stay tuned for the next post about the wackiest of Wacky’s wacky creations.

Until then...

Much love! ♥♥♥