#for being a part time clown you sure didn’t show us any magic tricks

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Season Zero: The Yo-Yo Crimes of Jounouchi Pt 1

It’s been a while since I visited the many times Yugi should have gone to jail, AKA season Zero, and I’m excited to visit it again.

If you just got here, this is Season Zero, which is very different vibe and a different direction plotwise than the other seasons and you can read the season zero recaps from the start in chrono order here: https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yuugi%20muto/chrono

So be warned, this is a 90′s anime, and it will do 90′s anime things, and I expect y’all reading this aren’t like 12.

Like I said in an earlier post, I wrote this out fully when I was going through the symptoms from my second dose--which PS, is worth it--but those symptoms knocked me out for 10 days. I was kind of a space cadet, and yo, I made some mistakes. Including writing this post out in full and then not clicking “save” on this post and then not realizing I had done that until several days later.

So long story short, I don’t remember what I originally wrote here, but lets all assume it was weird, and didn’t make sense and wasn’t funny. We’ll just assume this was for the best that it was deleted forever.

So this episode is about 2 things: Yo-yos and Jounouchi. Both get used as a tool for violence, and both need to get just a little bit cursed by Yugi to scale it the hell back. So, understandably, we start off this episode with Jounouchi, who has eagerly identified with this off brand yo-yo he apparently got out of a dumpster for being just a huge ass defect.

(more Yo-Yo crimes under the cut)

I see you dodging copyright infringement, Yugioh. Eireboy.

Also whenever I read “Eireboy” I do it in my mind in the same pacing and vocal tones that Pegasus uses to say “Kaiba boy.” Something about it’s conjunction to Yugioh, I see anything with “boy” at the end of it, and it’s voiced by a weird guy with one eye.

So I wrote these caps under the influence of my second dose, just assuming y’all understand the life I lived, but I realized writing this episode...traveling bands of yo-yo performers that go to your school and shill yo-yos with yo-yo shows in the hopes that it will get you so obsessed with yo-yos that you will not join a gang and do drugs and have sex may be just an American thing.

So when I saw a yo-yo episode I was like “Tight! Clearly, the yo-yo clowns have come to town!” and I assumed everyone in this class would be draped in yo-yos, because I just assumed that at some point at School you will get MAD OBSESSED with yo-yos for about 2 weeks.

But in this episode, everyone was like “Jounouchi, why are you playing with a random yo-yo?” and it didn’t occur to me until typing this out just now: only Jounouchi is doing this. He did this unprompted, without the encouragement of a bunch of middle aged performers doing tricks to techno music.

So instead, I have to think of Jounouchi as Ralphie in this scenario, and he just got a official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200-shot, range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time for Christmas, but he’s gonna shoot his eye out.

Because yo-yos in this episode are basically guns.

...Kind of like a duel deck was also just a gun...

...or the wands in Harry Potter...

...which honestly...I’ve probably said this before but where I’m from, we just use straight up guns in these elaborate analogies because we freakin have to make the point crystal clear. The moment Ralphie finally got his hands on a bb-gun, he very nearly shot his eye out and broke his glasses. And that scene will haunt me until my dying day...

...but fine, we can use yo-yos, I guess it works, although to me, yo-yo’s are just teachers hoping you’ll become such a dork that no gang will accept you (and then in this universe, it does the opposite? So freakin weird).

The beginning of this episode is Jounouchi trying do his best to impress with his skills, but in actuality, getting very close to clubbing Anzu with a yo-yo. And, while Anzu is the strongest person in Yugioh in the later seasons, I feel like Season Zero Anzu is another level. It’s a serious tempt of fate that Jounouchi is doing, so Honda wisely cuts him off from doing any more of that so she won’t end up strangling yet another person in broad daylight in the middle of school.

Remember your yo-yo safety, children.

Straight up, Honda’s version of yo-yo safety is to just Never Use a Yo-Yo and that’s the most gun safety thing ever that they’ve slipped into this Yugioh Episode. I almost expected Yuugi to pull a “well, actually, I use a hunting yo-yo to get enough venison to feed my family.” But youknow, he lives in a city, so while Yugioh is pretty weird and Yuugi has to worry about a lot of things--he doesn’t have to worry about that.

This is actually foreshadowing, which I only realized in hind sight, mostly because I just can’t associate a Yo-yo with crime. Joey knowing how to use a yo-yo was foreshadowing that he was absolutely part of this gang in a past life.

Yeah that one went completely over my head the first time and the second time and it really wasn’t until just now that I finally caught it. Hoo boy, sometimes I wonder why y’all let me analyze this show.

Jounouchi decides to confront the yo-yo bandits and everyone else is like “Silly Jounouchi, he’s not gonna do that. That would be stupid.” And...in S0, they don’t know him well enough yet to know that he really is that much of a well meaning dumbass.

I think a S1-5 Yugi would have been sprinting out the door to keep Joey from killing himself (again), but Season Zero Yuugi had hope that Jounouchi would just naturally tucker out and fall asleep or something.

And he was so wrong.

Anzu’s “New Tricks” line was from the dub itself and man that’s a good line. I love Anzu’s sass in Zero.

So, Honda decides to help them find Jounouchi so all of them together could give Jounouchi an intervention for skipping school. This is the same Honda that once skipped school to babysit a tomagachi and said it was because of “Maternity leave,” but don’t worry about the hypocrisy, because from this episode we learned that Jounouchi needs a very short leash.

So this episode is a great Jounouchi episode to explain stuff that still hasn’t been explained in 5 seasons of Yugioh. In S1-5, we don’t get much about his home life other than his Mom left and his Sister lives far away and is like sickly as hell. We know nothing else. But this is the episode where we finally get to find out why Yuugi and his Grandfather decided to basically adopt him from S1 onward.

Yugioh is tackling some pretty heavy territory, but I respect the show for not trying to magically change Jounouchi’s parents like they did to Dartz. Instead, the crew decide to reach out and try to find their friend who clearly didn’t go home last night (and won’t be going back for a while), by checking every alleyway in Domino.

Fun fact Yuugi drops this episode, Domino is one of the biggest cities on Earth. This makes the Battle City Tournament even more crazy when you realize Kaiba shut down several blocks but, it also makes a tiny bit more sense how we have so many Millennium items in one place. (Yet...it still doesn’t explain Bakura and Joey’s accent.) And, I guess if your city is just extra large, you get an extra large warehouse district, too.

Speaking of, they eventually find Jounouchi at his new (but also old) crime antics mugging some random stranger next to this Game store that I just realized was cropped so it looks like it says “GANG.”

Say hello to our crime clown. He’s sort of like a discount joker, and that beanie is...man it is green.

I forget this green exists sometimes, but Season Zero has it as one of their prime colors. Good ol’ Retro Kaiba green.

I’m a little tempted to swatch Season Zero a bit and figure out their full color scheme--it’s really saturated, which is interesting when you compare it to the later seasons which are a lot more muted since...the 00′s were like that, they greyed a lot of colors out. But I’ll do it later if I do, maybe another post for another day.

Jounouchi and Honda, before they moved to the school with Yuugi in it, used to go to the same school and up until now I just assumed they were close friends. But apparently they were a lot more distant than that. I’m sure they met up several times as Jounouchi destroyed stuff and Honda came along in his volunteer janitor outfit to put the stuff the hell back, and maybe that’s how they got to know eachother better?

But basically, Jounouchi was the freakin worst, and Jounouchi’s best friend was Hirotani--this 45 year old 15 year old with the blue pony and turquoise fade--and Honda has SO MUCH hot goss to say about it.

I really get the gist that Honda may not have liked anyone else at his old school, like at all. Like maybe Honda likes cleaning up trash so much because his school was just trash top to bottom.

As is tradition, Yuugi got his tar beat in by Hirotani. Another concussion to add to his list of issues to tell his future therapist that lives in that puzzle he wears around his neck.

I still expect him to do a double cross, but it seems they wanted to keep it a relatable and more realistic fall-out, where Jounouchi has just bounced on them without even a goodbye. He and his Dad had a bad fight, and Jounouchi was like “well so long to all of this and everyone that has anything to do with it.”

In later seasons, Joey is the one trying to save other people. He’s saving his Sister, he’s saving Mai, he’s saving Yugi, but in this season Jounouchi’s friends had to save Jounouchi from himself a few times now.

I like this depth to his character, I’ll be honest. I can understand why S1-5 don’t touch on it, and I don’t think it’s because they didn’t want to have an abusive Dad storyline, because they did that several times over with Seto Kaiba (man the Dad situation in Yugioh is DIRE.) Instead they probably just felt like Season Zero already did it, so why do it again?

It’s just a shame that it wasn’t talked about in the other seasons. Joey makes a lot more sense to me now because we get to see why Jounouchi is so hard set on saving people. S4 Mai Valentine, who ditched everyone and joined a gang? That’s basically a Joey move, and that was why Joey Wheeler was all over that.

Really would have added a lot to that particular arc if the show...actually talked about Joey’s history at all rather than assume I would have watched something that was never released in the States. Instead...it just looked a lot like he had only romantic motivations, which may not have been what they were going for.

Speaking of romantic, check out this sunset. Like the sun is exploding for some reason--just a wild sunset you only see for a still frame before a commercial break.

As Joey, youknow, takes on an entire rival gang single-handedly.

Hey guys, I lived near a pretty big city most of my life and I have been on a roof...once. Just the one time when I was doing an internship in SF with a painter and we needed to take a reference photo of his painting for a gallery (and it was hella sketch, and we weren’t exactly allowed up there). Who are all these people giving teens Roof Access? It’s so hard to get! Even if you live in an apartment of a tall building, I can count on zero of my fingers the amount of times I was allowed on that roof. But TV shows and movies--they freakin love roof gardens and roof hangouts and roof fights.

Am I missing out?? How did y’all get on the ROOF? I know I’m on S5 of Yugioh now and I have seen a lot of roof stuff, but like...is this normal for everyone else? I know there’s schools that have roof sport--that’s common in the city everywhere--but that’s like...specialized roofs with 30 ft chainlink fencing and really good supports to your body doesn’t fall straight through it when you jump too much. The hell is using their normal ass roof?

This gang should have their legs swinging halfway into the floor below them, is all I’m saying, if my roof couldn’t handle our solar heating, then a normal ass roof cannot support a gang fight.

But it does look really, really cool.

Anyway, Anzu does some offscreen snooping and finds out where the crime hangs out, and suggests that we step right into crime zone and just yank Jounouchi out of there. Which is something you would only do and say if you were Anzu and cannot fear death.

If it were Jay’s it would be with an ‘s. That’s how you do a plural Jay. But it’s the 90′s, so we put a “z” on the end of everything that should have been an “s” and that’s how you get the...

I mean, thank you, dubbers, for not saying “Jizz” but for reals...that be Jizz.

Please don’t flag me, Tumblr. (which, PS, I think they turned off the flagbot, Tumblr hasn’t flagged me in forever and I’m so thankful. Mods are asleep, we can talk about anime again)

So even though Honda decided that he was fed up with Jounouchi and didn’t want to save his ass, he decided to give it another go but complete with some new sash. He also did this without telling any of the others, who just kinda spectated him for a little while.

Honestly, if they weren’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t have known that this sash was any weirder than any of his other sashes. I don’t know really know what a school uniform should look like. It’s a shame, I feel like this series has a lot of jokes and puns probably soaring right over my head.

A little bit embarrased he was caught being vulnerable, Honda decides to give us a little more context to why he ever decided to give Jounouchi the time of day in the first place.

They had PE class once, and Honda apparently loves the hell out of PE. Jounouchi ran really fast in a straight line that one time, and that is why he’s trustworthy friend material. He just needs to stop joining gangs, and he’ll be solid.

I have no idea if the fandub put that in there or if that was native to the show, but Miho legit stans Honda/Jounouchi and acts as if she’s off to write some fanfiction about it. Honestly if she did, it would make her so much more interesting of a character.

And so, until next time, we shall have to wait and see exactly what Yami Yuugi is going to do with a freakin Yo-yo and I’m sure it’s all sorts of real effed up. Excited to get there, honestly. A shame it had to happen on the part that isn’t dubbed yet, but I’ve done these subbed before, it’ll be fine!

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. ix

→ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part nine / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence, minor angst

» a/n: short chapter D:! edit: i’ve tried and tried but it just doesn’t flow right when i try to make this into an x reader:// HALF will be an oc fic and i’ve decided to cut the backstory here;( thanks for the love and support!

» word count: 2,494

☾ix. pt. ix: youth

3 months later

Loud, bass-bumping music and too many flashing lights fueled the exhilaration and excitement of one of the biggest night clubs in Yorknew City.

Sayomi had defeated her second opponent on the 200th floor with the help of Hisoka’s training earlier today, making this little outing a sad excuse for a celebration.

In reality, Hisoka just wanted to see whether Sayomi could dance or not.

He had insisted they go out and experience the nightlife the city had to offer, and with Sayomi still upbeat from her match, they found themselves sneaking into Octagon- a hip club located in the heart of Yorknew City.

Though technically Hisoka was 21 and therefore could have gone about this in an easier way, he insisted they sneak in ‘just for the fun of it’. The truth was that he’d been kicked out of the club previously after using his ‘magic tricks’ to make people’s arms disappear, but it made his intrusion all the more fun.

As Hisoka watched the floor from his spot at the bar with a drink held loosely in one hand, Sayomi was currently lost in a crowd of passionate clubbers, her violet eyes gleaming with the thrill of the environment.

The black and silver dress she wore highlighted her figure as well as electrifying eyes and hair, the metallic material dazzling under the club lights as she lost herself in the music and people.

She was letting herself go for the night like she often did on her chaotic trips to the city with Hisoka. Free from repressive parents or a fight for her life, Sayomi was at peace with her new life, expressing herself however she wanted to.

Draining the rest of his Cosmopolitan, Hisoka’s eyes shifted to the young assassin, his face remaining expressionless as he watched her draw a crowd with her alluring glow. 

He’d been staring so intensely he didn’t even notice a man take the seat next to him. The sound of the man’s voice established his presence, yet Hisoka’s line of sight ceased to drift from the girl with the bright silver hair.

“A stunner isn’t she?”

Hisoka blinked slowly, hardly registering the man’s words. A stunner indeed, but what more? “A pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty soul.”

The man laughed, setting his drink down on the bar to face Hisoka. “I take it she isn’t yours then? That’s a relief.”

Hisoka rested his chin in the palm of one of his finely manicured hands, his other tapping on the smooth surface of the bar impatiently. He couldn’t seem to figure out why his bloodlust was seeping through as he followed Sayomi with his eyes.

His? She could never belong to any man, she was her own person.

“Careful with your words there, I’d hate for them to be your last.” His words were venomous, filled with the intent to kill.

Hisoka’s nails had cut through the skin of his own cheek, his other hand clenched into a fist on the bar’s surface.

The man had shifted away from him, quietly taking his leave as he watched crimson seep down Hisoka’s pale fingers.

Over the past 3 months, he’d been able to fight her more than enough times, and now he no longer felt the same intoxicating feeling when he was with her. Sayomi never fought Hisoka to hurt him, only with the intentions of improving her own skills, which in turn left Hisoka aching for more.

However, as the days progressed he was slowly coming to the conclusion that the Zoldyck girl had an undeniable flaw. She doesn’t put up a fight when I’m with her.

He was losing interest in the girl who’d once swayed his unshakable feelings, and it distressed him that he almost felt bad for wanting to leave her behind.

His sharpened fingernails dug farther into the pale skin of his cheek as he watched Sayomi throw her slender arms around a man she’d only just met. 

She was laughing and smiling, her silky voice seeming to reach his ears through the music and cheers from where he sat. Loud and clear, the sound of her laughter rang through Hisoka’s head in an almost painful way.

She was becoming a weakness to the man who believed himself to be the strongest, and that didn’t sit right with him at all.

☾ix.

Sayomi wasn’t too sure of what exactly it was that she felt towards Hisoka.

When he took her to dinner with an amazing view or complimented her progress with training, she couldn’t tell whether it was her lack of social contact or actual feelings that led her heart to race when she saw his face.

It didn’t help that on some days she could notice the way his voice softened when he spoke to her, only to leave her heart stinging with his harsh words on other days.

He was taking mixed signals to the next level, playing with her feelings while he was trying to figure out his own.

It was selfish and cruel, falsely gaining the trust of someone who’d been through so much betrayal, all for his own entertainment.

But that was just who Hisoka was, he didn’t care for distractions or hindrances. And as fast as he’d first fallen for the young assassin, he was already in the process of making himself forget her.

He was moving on.

☾ix.

3 months later

It was the day after Sayomi’s 7th match on the 200th floor of Heaven’s Arena. She’d been scheduling her fights randomly, with no regard for who her opponents would be.

With 7 wins under her name, she only needed 3 more to challenge a floor master. 

However, with her longtime goal fast approaching, she wasn’t as happy as she thought she’d be.

It’d been about half a year since Sayomi had first met Hisoka, and all the excitement and jitters about spending time alone with a guy had died down. 

It’d also helped that for some reason Hisoka was rather occupied recently. He rarely took her out to the city, claiming he had other business to attend to, and when they did go out, he’d always turn in first mumbling that he was tired.

Sayomi was no fool, she knew that Hisoka was either losing interest in her as well or felt his job was almost through. To herself, she hoped that it was the former, for it would hurt less than to find out he’d only been around her for business purposes.

Regardless, Sayomi’s current situation was puzzling. She stood waiting for what seemed like forever in front of Hisoka’s room, ready to go out and train.

However, after knocking more than enough times and even calling his cell, there was no sign of her trainer. 

That’s odd.

Sayomi trained on her own that day, taking it upon herself to get strength training in at the gym.

It was the first time she’d spent an entire day without Hisoka since they’d started training. Deciding that he was out on his so-called ‘business’, Sayomi shrugged away his absence, going to sleep early for the first time in a while.

Yet, another day passed with no sign of the magician, and Sayomi began to grow concerned for his well-being. What if he was picked off by someone? No, he’s too strong to lose to anyone here… Did he pass out in his room?

Sayomi walked briskly to Hisoka’s room with a worried mind.

Once again there was no response to her knocking, and she decided she’d break into the room.

Using one of her longer needles, she picked the lock in no time, stepping into the unfamiliar room. 

It was empty. Only the faint smell of bubble gum and something sweet lingered in the abandoned room, the closet and space empty.

There was a note left on the cleanly made bed, the red ink standing out from the otherwise white sheets surrounding the note.

That lazy ass, of course he’d leave a note in his own room. 

Picking up the sheet, she read:

Zoldyck-

It’s about time you sneak into my room, I know you’ve thought about doing it before;) 

But jokes aside… 

I’m sorry, darling. 

It’s not like me to apologize(you can ask Kite)and that alone scared me, because I feel like you’ve changed me. Your smile and intoxicating eyes make me weak in the knees…

And I despise myself for it. 

I’m not sure why I’ve chosen to expose my faults to you, for that just makes you all the more dangerous to me.

But perhaps I want you to hold my weaknesses, and perhaps I’d like to see you come tear me apart. Yes, that must be it. 

I’ve departed Yorknew City to meet up with your twin brother, as it seems as though he’s been searching for you. And perhaps I should have taken him to you instead, but I’m not, because when the time is right I’d like you all to myself.

So don’t forgive me, Sayomi. Resent me, grow stronger, and when the time comes I’ll bring your brother back to you.

Ah, and there is one thing I’d always wanted to tell you… 

I always thought that you were most beautiful when you showed your true colors-

A cold-blooded, cold-hearted Zoldyck assassin with no regard for the pain and suffering of your victims.

Stop holding yourself back, people like us can be forgiven for our sins because of the hell we’ve been put through. 

-Hisoka 

☾ix.

A single tear rolled down Sayomi’s cheek. 

And that was all.

The flurry of sudden information rendered Sayomi breathless as she tried to make sense of his words.

This idiot really just admitted his feelings for me after all this time right when he decides to leave me here. Selfish bastard.

And he knows Illumi… but how? Illumi was looking for me? 

I have to become a floor master and get that clown to bring my brother back.

☾ix.

6 months later

Sayomi gazed out her window with a blank stare, 241 floors above the ground.

Just a week ago she’d claimed her spot on the 241st floor as the newest and youngest Floor Master at age 19.

She knew Hisoka would find out about her achievement soon, and all she could do now was wait.

Up until defeating and killing her last opponent, time had flown by easily. She was fueled by the goal of finding her brother and confronting Hisoka, but now that she was here, the loneliness began to sink in.

Kite and his student had taken off to another country in search of wildlife to study, leaving Sayomi all alone in Yorknew City.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her situation. Here she was at the top of the tallest building in Yorknew City, a place that others died trying to get to, yet she was unsatisfied.

Her face and name were plastered on billboards and posters all throughout the city, and citizens stood envious of the young teen’s life. She had enough money that she’d never have to work another day in her life, but in exchange she no longer had a family to accept her nor friends to laugh with.

Don’t feel sorry for yourself, there’s plenty of others that have it worse.

Sayomi sighed as she turned away from the window, grabbing her mask she’d started using as a floor master to attempt to conceal her identity. 

I won’t have challengers for another month or so… might as well hit the city.

☾ix.

Sayomi walked through the dark streets of Yorknew City, her hands clasped behind her head and her eyes vacant.

She didn’t have a destination in mind, just mindlessly strolling through the city covered with news of her promotion to Floor Master. There were citizens recognizing her as well, pointing and jumping back as if she were some monster.

Though she couldn’t blame them, as her nen happened to be on the disturbing side. The replays of her fights were mostly censored, deemed too inhumane for the public eye as they played on repeat on the sides of buildings,

She wasn’t too sure how far she’d walked, spotting Heaven’s Arena rather far in the distance behind her. The shops and glamorous hotels began to fade as she approached the run down parts of Yorknew City.

It was an abandoned lot of buildings, the ground littered with oil cans and shattered glass. In a way it was tranquil, free from angry drivers and the revolted gaze of commoners.

Walking through an opening in the wired fences that surrounded the lot, Sayomi wandered through a certain building that’d caught her eye.

She felt a faint aura coming from the abandoned office building, but oddly enough it wasn’t hostile or repelling. It was rather comforting.

Sayomi’s curiosity grew as the aura increased, drawing her towards the room located at the far end of the first floor.

She saw the man before she sensed him, his large coat catching her attention. His back was turned to her crouched down on the dusty floor, the windows adjacent to him shattered, letting the pale moonlight reflect off of his coat.

St. Peter’s cross. Interesting taste in fashion…

Another careless step closer and the man’s head turned abruptly in her direction. Sayomi had ducked behind a wall, but not fast enough.

The man stood from his spot, revealing a vibrant patch of violets by his feet. Upon his loss in concentration, the flowers wilted, withering back into the cluttered floor as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Sayomi could see the man’s face from where she crouched, hidden by a barely intact wall. Her heart skipped a beat upon meeting his eyes, deep gray and captivating as he easily identified her from her hiding spot.

It felt as if time was frozen in place, the young man staring intensely into Sayomi’s eyes as if he could read her mind. 

Sayomi was unmoving as well, having been caught examining his figure from behind the wall. He was by far the most appealing man she’d ever seen, his dark, raven hair slicked back to reveal a tattoo decorating the middle of his forehead, contrasting with his gentle eyes and youthful facial features. 

Handsome, she thought. 

The man took a slight step forward, snapping Sayomi out of his hypnotizing gaze as she sped off jumping through an empty window and out of the building. 

Though she was eager to know what he’d been doing with the flowers, his aura had changed when he’d noticed her watching. It had been dangerous and intense, a total opposite of his warm and placid one when dealing with the violets.

Her quick steps transitioned into a run, feeling the need to distance herself from the lingering intensity of the mysterious young man’s aura.

She ran back towards the towering building of Heaven’s Arena, not stopping her pace a bit until she was met with the familiar neon signs and billboards that surrounded the heart of Yorknew City.

Her dreams were taken over by the man’s captivating eyes that night. His familiar aura had seemed to beckon her to him, as if she’d known him for 100 years prior. 

But no matter how hard she thought that night, she couldn’t come up with an answer as to what he’d been doing with the violets conjured by his feet. 

In her dreams she saw her own eyes within the vibrant flowers, it was an abstract thought, though for a second she wondered if he had meant for her to see them. 

She quickly dismissed this, however, scoffing at the absurdity of her own thoughts. 

What am I, a child? I must be beyond lonely if I think some random guy has something to do with me.

Though deep down inside her heart, she wished it were true. To be fated to somebody, needed by somebody who she could trust with her darkest secrets and love.

☾ix.

to be continued.

[valhahazred]

Cryptid Mythos bonus! Everything that appears on this sheet is an entity reported by real people. Why no Mythos this time? Because these encounters are so strange in appearance or behavior that they could slip right into the Sothic multiverse with little to no alteration or alternative explanation. Good luck Investigators!

All Colours Sam In 1973, in the town of Sandown, 7 year old “Fay” and an unnamed friend encountered a very strange individual as they explored the fringes of a golf course. They first became aware of something weird going on when they heard a sound like an ambulance siren in the distance. Following the sound to a footbridge over a creek, the two children were confronted by a three fingered hand wearing a blue glove that beckoned them from beneath the bridge. Awaiting them was a seven foot humanoid figure wearing strange clownish clothing, seemingly reinforced with wooden slats that protruded from his sleeves and pant-legs. The figure had a book in his hands, which he immediately fumbled and dropped in the water. He splashed around cartoonishly before recovering his book, leaping out of the creek and away from the children. He moved to a small metal shed with a high-kneed hopping gait and disappeared inside. The children went to leave, only for the mysterious entity to exit again with a microphone that appeared to be the source of the wailing that drew the children in the first place. It spoke into the microphone in a friendly, non-threatening tone. “Are you still here?” The children were curious and unafraid, so they moved towards him. He held up his book and pointed at the words in order to introduce himself. “Hello and I am all colours, Sam”. They asked if he was human and he said no and when asked if he was a ghost he replied, “well, not really but I am in an odd sort of way.” The children asked what he was then and he simply said, “You know.” During their conversation with the entity they learned that although he went by Sam, he didn’t really have a name, he claimed that there were others like him and that he was afraid of humans and that he was a pacifist, refusing to harm others even if they should attack him. He invited them into his hut, where he shared some wildberries and showed them a magic trick, where he placed a berry into his ear and seemingly teleported it to his mask’s eyehole and then to his mouth with quick jerks of his head. They continued to converse for almost an hour before the children decided to leave. Was he an alien in a make-do disguise? An animated scarecrow? A figment of childish imaginations? Or just a strange homeless man dressed like a clown? Whatever the truth, All Colours Sam, also known as the Sandown Ghost Clown, was never seen again. The Crazy Critter of Bald Mountain This weird looking creature was sighted by three people in the week following a fiery object that passed over the Bald Mountain near Newaukum Lake in Washington. When the local Sheriff began an investigation into the sighting he was visited by heavily armed and uniformed men who claimed to be from the Air Force and forced him to give up the case. Old Saybrook Blockheads Mary Starr was awoken in the early morning on December 16, 1957 by a bright light shining into her bedroom. She looked out the window to witness a 30 foot cigar shaped craft hovering over her yard, less than 10 feet from her house! Inside the apparent spaceship she witnessed a pair of small creatures with fleshy skirts and clear cubic “heads” containing a floating red bulb. They raised their right arms and as a third entity appeared in the portholes the ship brightened before shooting off into the sky. Space Brains of Palos Verdes As John Hodges and Pete Rodriguez were leaving a party at two in the morning they were not expecting to meet anything from out of this world but as the car turned on its headlights illuminated two bizarre entities! The men panicked and drove away, ending the story for Rodriguez as he made it home with no complications. However, in Hodges case he next became aware of himself two and a half hours later in the driveway of his home, sitting in the car as if in a trance. Troubled by the missing time, he eventually went for hypnosis in an attempt to recover his memories of the night. While under regression he claimed that while he got his friend home safely, when he returned to his own residence the disembodied brains were waiting for him! He asked them what they wanted and suddenly he was elsewhere, in a dark room with entities that looked like the classic Greys but very tall and with webbed six fingered hands and yellow eyes. They explained that the brains were “merely translators” used in order for these beings to interface telepathically with humans. He claimed they warned him that Earth had “too much power” and showed him a map of the planet covered in lights that indicated places where humans might destroy themselves. They showed him images of dead planets and made several inaccurate prophecies before he suddenly found himself back in his car. Unlike many other abductees with similar experiences Hodges did not try to make excuses for their bunk predictions or feel like it made him important in any way. He simply assumed the aliens were untrustworthy and were playing with him. The Casa Blanca Entities This is one of the strangest and most confusing accounts of a Close Encounter of the Fifth kind, as eight children ranging from the ages of four to fifteen were terrorized by a parade of extraterrestrial monsters one summer day in 1955. It started with an array of UFOs, sun-like, disk-shaped and semi-transparent, appearing and disappearing with musical pings. Then came the entities. First was a ghostly being bearing a shiny belt buckle that was so brilliant it could blind someone looking straight at it. It was followed by disembodied arms in riveted armor that seemed to beckon to the children, small strange men that used dual ray guns to paralyze and finally a many limbed creature. All through this strange arrival something spoke to the children telepathically, offering to take them away. The kids they spoke to often seemed to be entranced, moving to the dancing UFOs mindlessly and required physical force or even being hosed down to snap them out. One child even fell off a roof in an attempt to reach a UFO, only to be protected by a red force field. The weirdest part of all is that not only did adults not see anything, they couldn’t. Despite being present for the event a mother of one of the children was unaware of the paranormal happenings. Does this mean it was all in the children’s heads, as they were overtaken by some kind of playground hysteria? Or is there some alien force that not only wants our children but can make themselves invisible to undesirable observers. The Garson Invaders In 1954 three of these insectoid entities appeared to Canadian miner Ennio La Sarza. Their appearance was already exceptional by the usual standards of reported alien contact but in a particularly striking detail their faces appeared to glow in colours La Sarza had never seen before! The beings asked La Sarza to do something for them but he refused, not only to do it but to even speak of it. It was so awful and “outright apocalyptic” that he even considered asking the RCMP to lock him up in case the creatures he’d met had some way to enforce his cooperation. The Poole Pyramid This multi-hued metallic pyramid appeared in 1965 to seven year old Terrence Druce of Poole in Dorset when he awoke to it hovering over the foot of his bed. He shrieked in terror, waking his younger brother in time for him to also witness it as it faded into thin air. That encounter might have never been recorded if the brothers hadn’t seen it again the very next day, lurking in a parking lot. They said it seemed aware of their presence and turned to watch them but it did not follow them when they decided to flee the scene. Delta Dogs An anonymous woman was driving through a snowstorm on route 07 through Syracuse in January 1958. She came across what at first seemed to be a downed plane but as she approached her engine slowly ran itself down and the car stopped itself. As she desperately tried to restart the car the snowstorm calmed and more details became apparent. Projecting out of the large object she’d thought was a plane crash was a 50 foot illuminated pole. Two strange beings rose up along the pole, floating by it as it started to retract. When the pole finished sinking into the object the creatures disappeared and the craft took off so fast she couldn’t make out where it went. The Electric Serpent of Tacoma This is easily the most unusual sighting of a sea creature that I’ve ever heard of. Seven men camping on the shore of Black Fish Bay in 1893 encountered a sea monster that appeared to be cybernetic, if not entirely biomechanical! Disturbed by a horrible noise and blinding lights the men left their camp to find a huge, hairy walrus-like animal with steaming horns, bands of coppery metal and a revolving propeller-like tail! One of the men approached it to get a better look, only to be struck by an electric blast from its copper bands and fell to the ground as if dead. When one of his friends tried to pull him to safety, he was likewise shocked by the impossible animal. The other men fled into the woods after seeing two of their number seemingly killed and the Electric Serpent seemed to lose interest and swam out into Puget Sound. Once they were sure it was gone the remaining men returned to the beach and were elated to find their friends burned and stunned but still very much alive! So what happened? Was it just one of the sadly common newspaper hoaxes of the time? Or did a bunch of 19th century fishermen find a literal fucking pokemon? You decide! Stickmen The Stickmen are an extremely recent phenomenon, with reports starting within the last 10 years or so. They are described as being stick thin and roughly humanoid, sometimes with bubble heads, glowing eyespots or even top hats. They range in size from human-like to towering in excess of 20 feet. What is most interesting about them is their apparent two dimensionality, sometimes appearing the same no matter what angle they are viewed at and sometimes being able to turn to the side and vanish as though they were never there. They are also frequently reported as being accompanied by a feeling like static electricity and of aggression or hostility. Despite those impressions the Stickmen do not appear to be hostile, instead seeming surprised and immediately retreating from a witness.

[llendrinall]

What other tricks did Ginny pull to avoid Percy? (referring to 29)

Context: in the story Twenty-nine the Weasley kids have a Secret Santa between them so they don’t have to buy five gifts each. Percy notices that Ginny doesn’t want to draw his name and that she cheats every year.

The first time, Ginny simply claims that she had drawn her own name so they have to put all the names back. The next year, when Ginny tries it again Bill realizes she is lying (Fleur had probably explained what Ginny had done). Ginny switches names with Ron when he isn’t looking. Of course Ron had already read the name he had drawn so he was very surprised that he could have confused “Percy” and “Charlie”. Charlie is extremely easy to buy for.

However, this isn’t sustainable. Ginny is risking a lecture from Bill. She must find another way. There are two rules, though. One, she can’t use a spell like confundus to facilitate her switching names. Mind altering magic is wrong. This is actually an issue Ginny feels very strongly about, not that many people know because the topic doesn’t come up often. Ginny is strongly opposed to any magic that alters your will, perception or memories. It should be obvious why but nowadays Ginny is so big, so full of fire and life, it’s easy to forget she was once close to having her fire doused in a dark and wet chamber under Hogwarts.

Second rule: no bartering. The moment you show interest for something in the Weasley household you are opening a ruthless market. You can’t let the Weasley siblings know your preferences because they will be brutally and callously exploited. If she had asked to exchange names with Ron, Ron would have demanded an extremely high price. Her best broom and ten weeks preparing him breakfast, at least. He doesn’t even want it, but that’s how things are done.

So no redraws and no exchanges… Ginny has to make sure she doesn’t grab Percy’s name on the first go. This means marking the papers so she will know which one to avoid. Of course Bill is ever vigilant and cheating is second nature for George so she has to be very clever to avoid being discovered. There is double folding of the paper so it will be slightly more creased, micro tears, folding it the other way, sticking some sugar to it so it will be a bit coarse… Lately she uses a heating charm so the papers look exactly the same but if she is quick she will know by touch which paper to avoid. Percy was very impressed by that one.

Also, this wasn’t part of the ask but Ginny is, without question, the best of them at making gifts. Ginny will always get something you didn’t know you wanted, didn’t even know it existed, but that you nevertheless needed and craved. She is really good. Second best is Percy, even if it isn’t immediately obvious. Then Ron and Charlie. George and Bill are equally bad. They try, but it seems that they forget every interaction they ever had with a human being. They gift things humans only ever use in cartoons. It’s amazing.

Things they have gifted: a big magnifying glass, a horsehoe magnet, a handheld mirror with a horrifying clown face drawn behind, a sextant, a set of bone dices, a sickle (actually, Harry once killed a monster with that when it tried to murder Ron, so no bad), a butter churn and a canteen.

[monotoned-p]

Dragon Quest Rewrite,

(The Dragon Quest server is having a rewrite event and one thing led to another and I started making a fic. Will I ever write more than this? Maybe! Idk. This is my second time writing fanfic though (✿◠‿◠) )

————————

“Hey, Look alive, sunshine.”

El wasn’t sure who exactly he was hearing, he had a splitting headache. He sat up in bed, around him were the soft walls of a church. Sitting in front of him was a man with bright blue hair, maybe not a man, maybe closer to his age. Was El even a man yet? He wasn’t sure.

“So, ya gonna keep staring or are we gonna get moving?” Said Erik.

El was pretty sure that was his name. He didn’t remember much, Darkspawn, Sir Hendrik, Sir Jasper, Cobblestone, a big jump, Gemma, Luminary.

‘Oh, sorry. I’ve got the most awful headache’ signed back El.

“Alright well, we’re all set to go. The lady that runs this church gave us some supplies. S’posedly there’s some dangerous ruffians running around” he winked.

‘Ruffians? That doesn’t sound good’ signed El, concerned.

“I- no. That’s us, remember? We escaped the dungeon, there was a dragon. Got chased and jumped off that cliff?”

‘Oh, yeah’

“Yeah. Anyways we have to go back to Heliodor, I got some loose ends to tie up.”

El wasn’t sure if he was bluffing, go back to Heliodor? Was he crazy?

By the time they had snuck around Heliodor and Erik had almost killed a man over an orb and then reconciled with him in the same conversation, El still hadn’t been convinced of Erik’s sanity. Though with everything going on, El wasn't even sure he was right in the head either. They stepped down the stairs of Derk’s shop, having gained nothing but a potential ally. Which wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great either.

“Ya’ know,” started Erik, I think there’s a performance up in the fancy parts of ‘eliodor”

El blinked, was this man insane? His newfound companion nuts? They had just escaped jail and they already shouldn’t be in Heliodor in the first place.

“I know I know, we’re wanted men and we shouldn’t stick our nose in there when we’re just here for the orb. I know a couple people workin’ there though. I think it’ll help us get a head start on our adventure” Erik said calmly, he winked and then took El’s hand as they descended the stairs to the lower parts of upper Heliodor.

In the town square there was a tent set up, there were people in colorful garb inviting people inside. El had never seen something so colorful or exciting, sure the occasional bard came to cobblestone, but nothing like this. Immediately his concerns were nothing but a memory as he happily swung his arms back and forth.

‘Erik, we HAVE to go inside!!’ El signed quickly.

“See, that’s what I thought you’d say” Erik replied with a grin.

The pair walked into the tent, there were lights strewn about everywhere. Almost immediately as they walked in, Erik pulled El to the side. They ran into the backstage. Erik walked back here confidently, El tried to mimic him. Maybe if he looked confident people would think he belongs here. Erik slid up behind somebody sitting at a vanity, he had a small smirk on his face.

“Sylv! Remember me?” Erik said

“Well darling I have many fans I can’t possibly-“ he turned around, and the moment he saw Erik he grinned and pulled him into a hug.

El blinked, ‘do you two know eachother?’

“well of course darling!” Said the man who El thought was wearing entirely too much makeup. “The ruffian before you joined my show a few years ago. He’s wonderful at knife tricks, though it took him a bit to actually perform”

“You didn’t need to mention that part.” Grumbled Erik

“Nonsense!” Replied the clown, “I for one think the blue haired bandit should make a comeback.”

“No” replied Erik “we just need a way to get out of the city and down near the coast.”

“A way out of the city? Well my show is one night only, we ship out first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe if you perform for me I could drop you off” Sylvando said with a wink.

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

It took a bit of convincing, but eventually after a while, El was staring at Erik in a full face of stage makeup. He had a fancy thieves costume on, it even had boots with bells on them. Which actually seemed counter productive to thievery.

“You can’t escape the clown,” sighed Erik. “Ya know, This costume is a little small, Sylv.”

“Well it’s not like you’ve come back here and gotten it fitted again. I haven’t seen you in almost four years” he replied with a huff.

“Well for three of those I was stuck in jail”

“Do the details really matter darling?”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation . Before El could fully admire Erik’s attire, Sylvando was pushing him out onto the stage. El snuck out into the crowd and watched. He listened attentively as the announcer’s voice rang throughout the tent. Telling the crowd that a mysterious bandit had snuck into the tent. Before long Erik appeared out of the shadows, holding multiple people's belongings in his hands. Surprisingly, the people in the crowd cheered for the stolen belongings.

“It must be a city thing,” thought El.

Before he could think anymore, Sylvando descended onto the stage from the ceiling of the tent. He landed right in front of the tent, brandishing a sword in hand. The two of them put on a mock fight, which seemed to be more like a dance than any fight El had ever seen. Erik ducked under the swings of Sylv’s sword, his movements precise and practiced, if a little rusty. Eventually though, Erik slips, his chin being held up by Sylvando’s sword. It’s all for show of course, at least El thinks it is. The two exit the stage together, Sylvando pretending to drag Erik away.

El snuck back out of the crowd and into the backstage. He ran down to the dressing room, swinging his arms happily as he did so. He opened the door to Erik’s dressing room with the largest grin on his face.

‘That was amazing!’ El signed happily.

“Eh, we’ve had better performances” replied Erik, who was already peeling off his costume. “Doesn’t matter though, that crummy performance was our ticket down south. We can hit the kingsbarrow and go to cobblestone, then get the heck outta there” he grinned.

‘Will we leave with the circus again?’

“I mean, we could. It might be the most efficient way to travel for now” sighed Erik. “How about we sleep on it? We don’t leave till mornin’ anyways”

El didn't care either way how they left, he just needed to find out if Cobblestone was alright. As he settled himself onto the floor to sleep, the only thing he could think about was home.He figured that his magical destiny could wait. Before he fell asleep he made a small prayer to Yggdrasil, asking that for one night, Cobblestone would be safe.

[jjkpls]

Mean Yoongi 3 (m)

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : min yoongi x reader (f)

> words : 5.2k

> warnings : strong language, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (m), cum play , yoongoes is being a soft meany again

> “Are you here to distract me again?”

“Min Yoongi, you’re the one who called me.”

He just stares as he does, vaguely puzzled. However in the dim light, only illuminated by his computer screen, I decipher a tiny curve to his lips. Something subtle and sneaky that I keep seeing on his blank face lately. He squints his eyes my way, for the longest time, then tilts his head to the side, the way he does when he doesn’t agree or doesn’t understand, and turns around, humming to himself something I don’t catch. What a clown. 

> previous

< next

“Yeah sure, you can tell me about your day. You already do it all the fucking time.” He’s mumbling like a grumpy old man and instead of making me crack up the way it usually does, it annoys me to no end. He’s mean to be saying that. He’s not wrong per se but still. When he hears me scoff indignantly, he looks up from his laptop, he raises his lazy eyes at my face and I imagine it looks pretty pitiful because he’s rolling them in annoyance, one hand reaching for the back of my thigh squeezing kindly. “I’m just saying. You don’t need my permission.” I don't pull away for it feels too nice but it doesn't smother my pettiness.

“Cause I’m going to do it anyway?” I ask through a pout, shifting lightly on my feet. Yoongi smiles or more like grins. My heart squeezes at the sight. 

It’s so lovely. One of those rare ones. The ones that make him look like a turtle. A cute happy turtle with the most adorable gums. The thing is that I'm stupid and forget who I'm facing and dare wear my adoration on my face. As soon as he notices, his happy face falls in a scowl, ducking his head, he pretends to dive all of his much-needed attention in his computer – he just closes the software he was working on. “You should be sweeter with me, Suga.” 

I never call him that. Never, ever. And it shows. I see him visibly lag, tense a little as he bites the underside of his bottom lip, pondering over my words. 

His hands busy themselves with gathering the mess that is the top of his desk. He arranges in a neat pile papers and notebooks, puts away the pencils and empty coffee cups, slips his laptops and other useless devices in the drawer. 

“I’m not sweet?” He asks, eyebrows high. That is so him. He sounds genuine in his disagreement when we both know he’s not. Lately, I've been observing him more than usual, simply because I've been over the dorm and their studio more often. And something did not miss my vigilance. He’s sugary-sweet, honey-dripping-gentle with some of his bandmates -Jungkook and Hoseok, to name the main concurrents. It’s not surprising, I know him to be loving and caring inside. Before, he used to completely suck at expressing it and was an asshole to everyone. But he’s softened down with the years and some benefits this new lovely version of him. Jungkook and Hoseok do anyway. But not me. He’s not the worst, he’s just Min Yoongi. But I don’t understand why he never tries and hold my hand -like he does his younger brothers'-, make up private jokes and nicknames for the both of us -like he does with the maknae-, smile lovingly at me while beaming my way -for a hot second I almost thought I'd have to fight Hoseok for this man because the affectionate eyes he is granted with all the time were poking viciously my greedy heart. He does fuck -I'd like to say 'make love' but I'm not sure, and it makes me cringe and flush to think about it that way- me nice and he kisses me infinitely softly when he does but it doesn’t bleed outside of the confine, intimate space we meet in. So much so, Taehyung still thinks I'm bothering his hyung too much and low-key called me a 'stalker' earlier, when I walked straight past him, saying I was not here to see him but Yoongi. When he’s the one who called me!

That’s something I should clear out sometime. What am I to him? Because he sure didn’t clear this out with his friends. He didn’t hint at anything with me. Are we dating? Or just, friends messing around? I'm pretty sure that’s not his kind. Yoongi looks cool and laid back for the most part, seemingly detached. In reality, I know he doesn’t get close to people easily, it being emotionally or physically. It takes him time. He doesn’t complain ever about loneliness and that’s not because he’s never alone. I know him -and this mostly from his music since he never really talks about himself even though sometimes quiet words he utters here and there in interviews or during some of his late-night live streams give me hints- to be a sensitive being, passionate and invested when he does allow himself to love and care about someone. He wouldn’t let anyone in just to have light-hearted, unapologetic, aimless relationships with them. Even though he doesn’t show it too much, I know he’s soft and fragile. Precious.

Therefore, what does it mean when he doesn’t block my number anymore when I send him too many memes, doesn’t send someone else to tell me to stop messaging him or spamming him request to play some mobile games he doesn’t have time to waste on; when he initiates on his own initiative conversations to threaten me into eating and taking care of myself properly -which should annoy me because he assumes based on nothing that I'm an irresponsible slob but really, it makes me so giddy and tingly in the chest, I don’t mind it. And when he calls, like he did today, demanding me to come over 'just because'. Just because he wants to see me, if I were to let myself complete the missing words. Still, he doesn’t say so and I still don’t know if we are dating or not. 

I'm an idiot. 

Pretending that the thought just occurred to me when really, it’s almost all I've been thinking about lately. 

It's not the only thing, I owe to be honest. The other thing I've been thinking about is his body. More specifically his cock and his hands. They leave me restless and on edge constantly, it's become hard to live with it. Especially at work when I get bored or frustrated and my mind seems to think it’s funny to drown me in tantalizing thoughts with very strong implications that I can’t in any way indulge in. The fact that I'm too terrified to text him to let him know when I'd like to have him doesn’t help. I just let him do it. Staring down at my phone for hours, trying to make Yoongi manifest in it accompanied by a seductive proposition. Flooding his phone with amazing raccoon gifs that I know he doesn’t even appreciate the way he should, hoping that he’ll send something along the lines of 'if I let you suck me off will you stop harassing me?'. It never occurs. Since the first time we slept together, he’s called me over four times and I slept with him six -twice I was supposed to hang out with Taehyung but shit happens when Yoongi is eye-fucking me from across the room, not a care in the world for me nor our friend.

In other words, it’s hard 'dating' Min Yoongi and this precisely because he is not sweet enough. “Why are you wearing those fucking shoes?” He sounds so annoyed, glaring at my Converse like he means to set them on fire. I frown, twisting my ankle a bit, looking at them intensely. I love those shoes.

“What’s wrong with them? You wear Converse all the time.” He glares darker, this time directly at my face. My words have offended him even more than the shoes had, and I can almost hear him damn me to Hell in his head. When his hands grab my hips to lead me to his desk, pressing my ass against the edge where he’s cleaned up space, I squeal in surprise. Both from not expecting the gesture and from the ever gentleness of it, contrasting so drastically with his expression. 

“You don’t see me wear them when I’m going to get fucked by my boyfriend now, do you?” The magic word strikes me, stopping my heart completely for a second too long, it hurts when suddenly it starts beating again to a frenetic rhythm. “They’re a fucking pain.” He grumbles. His fingers are reaching down, aiming for the shoelaces he hardly fiddles with for a second before giving up, sighing loudly as he straightens back up on his chair, looking at me like I just kicked him in the dick. “What?” He asks after a while of me just standing there, shook and unresponsive. I see the blush on his pearl-white cheeks. It’s subtle, doesn’t match the severity of his features but it’s there.

“You said ‘boyfriend’.” And maybe it is time for me to go through my whole Mean Yoongi 101 textbook again because I keep missing the tips and tricks to hold some kind of power with the guy. Lesson 1: do not show any signs of distress, embarrassment, expectation, hope. It will feed his ego and his newfound confidence will enjoy thoroughly torturing you.

I sound tiny. Eager and desperate and so, so timid, so enchanted as I am to have heard the word. It’s all he needs to clear the pink off of his face and starts smirking like an asshole. 

“Oh yeah, my bad. Sorry. We’re not dating, right?” The question thrown out into space lingers, rendering me confused and speechless. 

“We’re not?” I ask and so pathetically so. I can feel my eyes wide, begging. I must look like a sad puppy, yearning for love and appreciation. 

“You didn’t ask me to be your boyfriend, did you?” He says it as if he wonders out loud, as if he’s skimming over his memory to retreat a recollection we both already know not to be there.

“No, but-“

“Then I guess we’re not,” Yoongi concludes, smacking his tongue on the ceiling of his mouth. He’s holding himself from sniggering out loud, it’s obvious. 

“I guess not,” I admit quietly. He’s lavishing in my distress, I can tell. Laidback as he is, arms sprayed along the armrest, the tip of his fingers drumming teasingly on the leather, he’s having a blast. What a dick. What a fucking dick. I'm not going to ask. I'm not that lame. It’s ridiculous anyway. If it were anyone else I wouldn’t feel so confident about it, I'd probably consider it to be a sneaky loop one could use to be like 'Well I asked you if you wanted to be in a relationship you didn’t say anything so I don’t owe you anything', but it's Yoongi and I know where his heart is at. There’s no doubt in my mind. Still, I hate the idea that he’s going to use it against me. The ambiguity, the doubt that is not really there, he’ll have fun torturing me with it. I just know it. There’s no fucking way I'm turning weak enough to ask for the stupid label. He’d love this too much. 

“Sit.” He commands and like a perfectly-obedient puppy, I take the seat he’s made for me on the desk. It’s weird. To be sitting like that, in front of him, higher yet vulnerable in a way. I don’t feel empowered. I feel minuscule and exposed, like a prey in front of its predator, useless and powerless, at its mercy, knowing it’ll get swallowed down in a second. “So, friend (I hate him, I hate him! He makes it sound so spiteful, giving me sort of a taste of how nice and brilliant it would feel to have him say the magic word. If he were to call himself my 'boyfriend', I would lose my fucking mind.), what is it you wanted to talk about? Something happened at work?” He slides closer on his desk chair, ending up all close and personal, with his hands encasing me, front arms laid along my thighs. His fingers, smooth as silk and precise, play with my skirt, swiftly bundling it up as high as possible.

“What are you doing?” I squeak out, pressing my thighs together in a protective reflex. As if. As if it's something that I've meant. As if I'm not craving for his touch every single second of every fucking day. I always want him. But it's hard. He's cool, so charismatic, beautiful and he makes me feel some type of way recently, as if my heart is not mine anymore but his. I don't remember willingly having given it to him but I don't mind it so much. Except when he's troubling me so much so, killing me with his teasing, it feels like he knows, without me telling him, that he owns it.

“Going to eat you out.” He sounds almost bored when he looks up at me, heavy eyes and lips pursuing forward. But a subtle glowering glint betrays him, I would have missed it if I've had overlooked. He wants it. I'm not sure if it's for my enjoyment or his. He always makes it feel like that. Like it's just about him. He demands and takes. His fingers are always ravaging my cunt, his mouth loving my skin, nibbling and sucking, but the back of his free hand swatting my wandering touch to prevent me from giving him pleasure too, not letting me try much on him. I wonder if it makes him a pleaser, one of those lovers who find the most of their pleasure in giving rather than receiving. How ironic would it be? Then again, we've never really taken the time to, well, take the time. It's always a bit rushed. Either by our schedules; or by invasive third parties -Taehyung- who doesn't get why so much of my time is spent on his hyung rather than them and where I've run off too when I was supposed to just be off for a quick bathroom break; or simply by fatigue, because not only is it hard for Yoongi to have some free time when he does, he's often worn out and not up for a sex marathon of any kind. Maybe he'd like to have me touch him more. Maybe it's something he's not used to and would require a bit of warming up to but still desires. I know the effect that compliments have on him. He despises them -while probably holding them dear to his heart when no one is here to witness. It makes me feel so sad. Probably too sad. He would hate it if I were to express it to him. I know he wants Love. I know he deserves it and maybe, doesn't get as much as he should simply because, the unfamiliarity, the bashfulness, render him a bit repulse to them. I just want to give him so much love. All the love that I own, all there is available in the world. I want him to bathe in it and never, ever have that dubious frown as a response to heartfelt praise. I want to give it to him. Starting now. And that's why I'm not having it, peering his way like I'm determined not to listen for once -well I don't really listen to him in general, but usually, I'm not facing him full-on, he'd be at the other end of the world or would at least have his back turned to me when doing so because he's still Min Yoongi, and he's scary.

“I said you can tell me all about your exciting life but I’m eating you out while you do.” So my life and its tales are boring, I get that. And a way for him to cope with boredom would be to give me head. Interesting. Sort of. 

I've never received a successful cunnilingus before. It would always last a couple of minutes at most, being shortened by my own initiative because I could tell it wouldn't take me anywhere. The pleasure was simply non-existent. Just awkward, unsincere effort put into tiny kitten licks placed right where I didn't need them. The main reason, I gathered from matching the impression these boys gave me to the testimonies I've found online, was that they didn't want to do it. They treated my crotch like some sort of gross time bomb they had to deactivate. They didn't like doing it and it showed. 

But here Min Yoongi is acting like he likes doing it as a fucking hobby. I'm not so surprised. He's never done it before but the soaked fingers he would stick, as if on instinct, in his mouth almost each time he's done fingering me and a few lewd confessions he's made in the crook of my neck in the heat of the moment hinted that perhaps, he's thought about it and meant to do it with me at some point, possibly, sooner than later. But again, time and circumstances and the universe did not want it to happen until now apparently. 

Today though, we have time. It's 9 pm, the whole dorm is empty except for the two of us, and it's not supposed to be crowded with overgrown invasive babies until at least midnight. So there's time. Min Yoongi likes eating pussies. He wants to do it to me now. There's still a little reluctance remaining in my attitude though. And of course, there would be. I feel like if I give in now, he's going to take the lead like he always does and I won't, even after he's done with me, have the occasion to treat him with all my love and spoil him until his porcelain cheeks turn into a flaming red. “Stop whining and lift your butt for a sec.” His hands are patting my thighs encouragingly but I don't. I frown and I scowl. So hard I might get a permanent crease rooted between my eyebrows but fuck him. Fuck him because I can already feel my determination waver, and I know it's going to end the way it always does: his way. He doesn't understand why I'm being so reluctant, persuaded I'm just playing hard to get as payback for earlier, he smugly claims, “Everyone wants to test my tongue technology.” I roll my eyes at that. Feels like too much Kim Seokjin has rubbed on him.

“You say it as if you're not the one who came up with it in the first place.” 

It makes him laugh and that's the moment he wins. With his stupid turtle smile, and the quiet breathy chuckle, what am I supposed to do? “Lift up.” I do it with a sulking painted all over my face. Along with my skirt, he brings entirely out of the way in a bundle behind me, he drags my panties down my legs, a tiny twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips dawning from my embarrassment. “Have you been eaten out before?” The tips of his fingers gently tap the side of my thighs. He's not pressing yet. Just smothering my nerves, making it a little easier to breathe and a little simpler to relax at each completed circle of his thumb.

“Just once or twice,” I whisper, flushing a little.

Matching my tone, he responds as quietly, the words hardly loud enough under the purrs encasing them. He makes me shudder. “Was it good?” I shrug dismissively. I don't want to get into it and it is of so little importance right now.

It takes me a moment to ease into him, no matter how bad I want him to start to please me, to discover if he's as good as he pretends, as skilled as I want to imagine him to be. “Open up.” I decide I'm not going to care. He looks eager to start. His wide and cold hands, warming up at the contact of my thighs, caress patiently. He bends, kisses the side of my knee so softly -it still amazes me, how gentle he can be, he's really the softest under the thick first layer- I give in.

His thumbs attach to my lips, spreading them open to expose my clit. His breath hits it, he watches so intently and I wonder what he sees. I've never watched myself, never particularly curious about what I look like down there, from up close. Right now, I wish I did. That's a thing. I saw it on TV once: women that go to a club -they pay for it, which is so weird- to sit on the floor in a room, and individually check their pussies out in a pocket mirror. So fucking weird, I remember thinking. But I should have -maybe without the whole paying for a club and be around other people while doing so but at home, at least once, to know. Because I have no idea what I look like and I'm feeling suddenly self-conscious. Do I look any... yummy? Pink and wet and endearing? “When are you gonna start?” It makes me frown in confusion. Isn't he supposed to be the one starting something? “Telling about your day.” I groan petulantly.

“Yoongi, shut up!” It's outrageous that he puts me in this situation, legs open and crotch glistening with want, aroused, yet angry because he can't help but act like a dickhead. And as always, he won't pay for that. Not answering me, simply smiling to himself, he sets his wet mouth to my mound, sucking my breath away. It's not like it's for me. It's for him. The way he hums, his eyelids fluttering shut, he's enjoying it too much, savouring with utter pleasure my taste.

And of course, he's good at it. Not that I would point it out to him, purely from bitterness, if he were to be bad. His tongue laps along my whole crotch, the tip of his tongue dipping briefly in my hole on its way. I bite hard on my lip, sucking it in to hold any sound I could let out that he would, most certainly, relish in. Once he's spread my wetness everywhere with his tongue, he backs away for a second, staring again while he collects my arousal from his lips, savouring the taste. Yoongi sucks on my labia, taking each lip in individually, suckling like he's making out with my cunt. It's loud and messy, reaches my ears and burns my body with shame, making me sweat in my clothes. It's so hot. He's just so good. Delving his tongue inside, playing with my nub, flicking it left and right, up and down, lapping grossly. 

“Hold your legs.” He demands, guiding them himself to my chest and maintining them until I wrap my hands around my thighs and quietly keep the position. “Wider.” He intimates me, eyes glued to my centre, a thunder-like growling of delight coming straight from his throat. It's incredibly arousing. I'd be embarrassed, ashamed to go along and expose myself so indecently but when he's looking at me like that -like he wants me like he's never wanted anyone before, like I'm the most desirable woman he's ever seen- it's pretty easy to glaze over the feeling. I can feel myself dripping, the light grazing of air a temporary stimulation. I'm not sure how real it is, if it's my imagination playing with me, but I could swear I heard him utter a quiet 'good girl' as he hummed in appreciation for my perfect obedience. 

I can't help it -when it feels so good, it obliterates my mind and renders me stupid, only thinking about, only driven by the promised release- I have to grind on his face. He welcomes the motion so enthusiastically, sticking his tongue out for a while to let me ride it the way I need. I'm squealing. Literally. Tiny, high little whimpers I can't control. It's the frustration. I feel how huge it's growing. I'm so ready to have it snap and free me. But it doesn't. It's too much yet not enough and I'm whining in dissatisfaction. I'm so, so close. It just wouldn't burst. The hypersensibility, the overstimulation hurt. I'm in pain, unable to handle it all. My legs shaking in my hands. My eyes spilling tiny tears at the corners. However, Yoongi is here to save me. The same way he proved me multiple times before, he knows what to do. He takes a second to take a much-needed breath, mindlessly sucking on his lips. It's dizzying. His pretty hand, the one that's been sitting on the back of my thigh, slides down, two of his glorious fingers tease at my hole, a jolt of pleasure shoots me and he doesn't give it time to fade before he's slipping them in, effectively stretching me out -enough to feel the delicious burn but not too much that it hurts. They curl as soon as they're nicely snug in, the tips hitting right on my sensitive spot. I hiss aloud, he sniggers in my folds as he smacks his mouth back against my lips. His tongue flicks my bud a few times before he wraps his lips around it, the fingers abusing ruthlessly from inside the other end. It's too much, makes me cry out, hump the air. He hums and purrs and groans against me as his head follows, not allowing his mouth to part away and it's the vibrations along with the high double stimulation that take me there. My whimpers quicken, growing louder as his lovely mouth rides the orgasm with me. It's exquisite. Even more so as he keeps moaning against me, seeming more and more excited the louder I get. It feels like it takes forever for the spasming to stop, the high to weaken. I'm left spent, speechless, wincing because just breathing strikes the sensitivity. My eyes flutter open on him, standing up between my legs. He's watching me carefully, his feline gaze dark, as he wipes his chin dry with the length of his thumb.

“Okay?” He inquires tenderly. I nod and he leans in to place a tender kiss on my mouth. His tongue slides along my lip, leaving a wet path tasting like my own juice and then he stops teasing to focus on his belt which he starts unfastening. I'm left to watch him do it. He's so hot. Everything he is, everything he makes me feel, everything he does is so incredibly hot.

Yoongi doesn't bother taking his pants off, or even sliding them down, simply pulling his cock out. The pretty thing brings more heat to my cheeks. I've missed it. The straightness, the hardness, the whiteness with the charming flush head, the veins complimenting the ones on his hand. And he's leaking. A lot. I can see it from up there, glowering conspicuously in the dim light. His left-hand gets a hold of his member, wrapping around the base, squeezing firmly while his right one reaches forward, the back of his pointer grazes my crotch, dipping in the wetness. I flinch visibly, one of my legs jerks and that makes him chuckle again. He withdraws from my warmth, deeming it better to let me rest for now and instead diverts his attention to the tabletop, between my legs. My breath hitches in my throat when I notice the mess I didn't even realize I've made. 

There's so much. I've never really paid attention, therefore, I can't tell if it's more than usual; if, perhaps, I even squirted. Either way, Yoongi lives for it. He dips his fingers in the puddle, smiling to himself so obnoxiously, it makes me want to punch him in the rib. He plays for a bit with it, toying with the movement of the liquid, enjoying how much there is before he rubs all that he's gathered between his fingers on his cock. Looking me straight in the eyes, appearing as sinful as ever, he proceeds on treating his begging tip. He doesn't even bother taking care of the length or his balls, greedy as he is to come already, stroking the engorged tip, frotting his palm on it, twisting his hand around. It's so wet. I can hear the slick sounds his quick stroking makes from the mixture of our essences. There's the panting too. Erratic, coloured with lovely groans that make my cunt clench around nothing. That's apparently all I need to wake my arousal, to make me forget all about the uncomfortable stinging of oversensitivity: Min Yoongi, handsome as ever, with his lips red and swollen from eating me out, his cheeks rosy from excitation, lazy eyes begging me to watch him, abusing his cock with desperate frenzy. Observing him, not wanting to miss a beat of it, I move the dark hair sticking to his forehead with my fingers, to then let them rest on his plump cheek, so soft and burning under my tips. Yoongi leans in, eyelids slowly fall close, he purrs like the kitty he is and my heart hurts. Soon enough he's groaning again, loud and deep, and he's anything but adorable. “I'm gonna come.” He hisses, his jaw tight, hand pumping erratically. “Kiss me.” 

It's against the plump of my mouth, biting on my bottom lip that he finally comes, moaning a helpless call of my name that sends a shiver down my spine, turning every drop of the blood in my veins into an electric filled fluid. There's some of his cum leaning on the skin just before my crotch. It feels like pure torture, as it slowly glides down my thigh. I watch it, mesmerized, ignoring the amused eyes set on me. “If you wanted me to cum on you, you should have said so.” He taunts, biting on his lip as he smirks.

“Why do orgasms make you even more insufferable?” That's funny because he decides to shrug, giving a little side tilt of his head as if he admits it instead of arguing or come back with a snarky comment.

“Are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend?”

“You're a dick.” Yoongi raises his eyebrows high, pinching his lips together in mock bewilderment.

“You flirt weird.”

Giving up on trying to be snarky and sassy and smart, I simply repeat on my way out, “You're a dick, Yoongi.” I've reached the door already when his hands seize my waist, effectively stopping me on my track. I let him do it because I'm too merciful and too hopeful that he may have something sweet to say. He turns me around, holds my face in his palms, they're burning, and I feel myself melting in them. Softly, his lips meet mines. Not for long. But it's so tender and gentle, it suffices to take my breath away.

“I'm seriously not going to call you my girlfriend until you ask me out properly.” I fight my way out of his grasp, fleeing for his studio door under the loud background music made of his stupid breathy laughter. 

Today, he's too much of a dick, I'll just have to spoil him with my love another day.

A/N : So this happened. I don’t know about this, I’m stuck in a writing funk these past weeks or so... I feel like it’s all stiff and doesn’t flow well idfk. Don’t hesitate to let me know how you feel about this attempted soft filth. kisses & purple hearts to you !

[kathyprior4200]

Kathy Prior Comforts Alastor

Another ordinary day at the Hazbin Hotel. Having died in the 2020’s due to covid, I appeared as a watered down human, not quite a demon unless influenced by Alastor’s dark magic. Originally I was going to be transformed into an angel reminiscent of my supposed spirit animal. But Heaven’s elitism rubbed me the wrong way, thus I refused to submit to God. I was banished down to Hell, living in a cardboard box. I was soon fleeing from the exterminators not too long afterwards. If they had gotten me, I’d either be killed or sent back to Heaven to be brainwashed as a white Exorcist. Then Alastor of all people decided to take me in and I arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. There I was good friends with Alastor, Charlie and Niffty, half convinced that they were the voice actors playing some kind of trick on me.

 Aside from my demon form that is activated by Alastor’s magic, my afterlife form wasn’t very impressive. I looked like I did when I was alive, except my skin was ghostly pale, my long hair was gray and my eyes had black sclera, purple irises and white pupils. Although I didn’t fit in with the other demons, I could see in the dark and my instincts were heightened.

 It’s not a lot of fun when Alastor possesses me or when he decides to swallow me whole. Apparently, there’s something powerful about me that allows him to heal, feel full and even get some rest. Often times, he sits me in front of a radio and has me listen to several of his favorite jazz songs. The little speakers start to glow and static buzzes in my head. His soothing voice washes over me and I find myself in a daze. My eyes glow red with moving black radio dials and my remaining thoughts are shoved to the back of my mind. Alastor soon has control of my body and mind. He calls the process “getting tuned in.”

 I then transform into an alligator/red doe hybrid demon named Cerva. In this form, I’m a vicious killer and cannibal who accompanies Alastor, Husk and Niffty on various missions. Using my sharp claws, teeth and some dark magic, I take down pedos, rapists, criminals or anyone that stands in the Radio Demon’s way. My scaly skin helps protect me from most attacks, though I can still be killed by angelic weapons like everyone else. When he releases control of me and I morph back, it feels like a great weight is lifted off my chest. I cannot remember what I did before.

 Like Husk and Niffty, I’m stuck under Alastor’s contract for a while. He persuaded me to work for him at the hotel and that “It’s a dangerous world outside.” Naturally I agreed.

 Today was fairly busy. Charlie had a meet and greet event to welcome the newcomers Crymini, Mimzy and Baxter. When I wasn’t greeting any guests, I helped Niffty clean the rooms, make the beds and sweep up the floors. Sometimes I would help Alastor and Niffty make tasty jambalaya (with spicy sauce) and other dishes to serve to all the clients. I wasn’t very good at poker but it was still fun to play and watch as Husk skillfully won almost every game. Often, the characters would mostly talk amongst themselves, me fading into the background, being an OC. I was fine with that…it was almost like watching the show I dearly loved on Earth…except now I was a part of it in a way.

 After I finished cleaning beer bottles at the Jackpot portion near the lobby, I heard Alastor and Husk talking not too far away by a pool table.

 The cat demon let out his usual grumpy sigh. “Man, what a ruckus. I just served dozens of drinks to these annoying tourists who didn’t even stay. What’s the meaning of that?”

 “Why Husker!” Alastor said with a laugh, “Ever since our three new demons arrived and signed up for Charlie’s program, more folks are becoming curious about it. Providing them with drinks and entertainment is surely the way to go!”

 “Without any breaks?” Husk scowled. “And why’d you make me stretch my wings and do a stupid dance onstage when I got wasted earlier?”

 “It was so funny, I had to!” he chuckled. “Even when you’re getting drunk, you can still do your new job well.”

 “I’m here to serve drinks and get my money and booze. That’s it. I’m not some fucking clown you can roll into every little scheme of yours.”

 “Hmm…maybe you are.”

 “I don’t think so. Remember I’m only here because you bribed me with booze. But even that will only go so far.”

 “Come now, my friend, why not liven up a little!” Alastor spoke in a loud voice, making Husk’s ears flinch back. “I provided you with some resources to make your life down here more…livable…or rather less dead.”

 Audience laughter came from his microphone.

 Husk rolled his eyes and muttered. “Your dad jokes make you a fucking joke.” Alastor snickered. Husk seethed, “Ugh great, now it’s rubbing off on me!”

 Alastor pulled Husk in close with his arm, much to the cat’s disgust. “Just have some fun and follow my orders and things will go smoothly. You are my good friend after all.”

 Husk’s white furry face turned red as he hissed and shoved Alastor away. “I’m not your fucking friend! You’re nothing but a red psycho freak I happen to unfortunately work under. If I had my way, I’d be a rich free man who could gamble and do whatever I want! Better yet, I’d be far away from all you morons.”

 Husk picked up a few cards and shuffled them in his hands. “I had a full house and was about to win the pot. And then you pulled me out of nowhere and placed me in this dump for your own amusement.” He pointed a claw into Alastor’s chest a few times, making him flinch a bit. “When ae you gonna get it past your egotistical head that I. Want. To. Be. Left. Alone?!”

 An uncomfortable silence followed. Niffty briefly looked over while she was busy dusting a bookshelf with a white feather duster.

 “Looks like our pussy cat’s in his usual bad mood,” Alastor mused in his radio voice. He tilted up the corners of Husk’s mouth into a smile, which quickly fell when he let go.  “You know I love to see that smile…”

 “Shut up!” Husk pounded his furry fists onto the pool table, making the colored balls rattle. “Just shut the fuck up! I’m sick of you touching me all the time and getting into my face. I’d say you’re lost in this ridiculous musical world of yours…you think you can do anything you want but you don’t seem to be aware of who’s right in front of you!”

 The large yellow smile remained on Alastor’s face, though his red eyes looked concerned and confused.  

 “You’re delusional, thinking Hell revolves around you like some sort of audience.” Husk’s eyes had faint red veins popping out. “You may be powerful, but guess what? You can’t have your way all the time. I learned that lesson the hard way. I may be in your partnership for a while…” He hiccupped, “…but here’s what I really think of you…”

 Husk’s breath smelled of booze as the cat spilled out his previously hidden angry thoughts.

 “You’re an insufferable…”

 Every word was a jab to Alastor’s chest…

 “Egotistical…”

 He felt the shoves of surrounding boys in a long ago life…

 “Filthy…”

The taunts of “dirty boy” and the n word…being forced into a tub of water, scrubbed all over roughly and feeling like he was drowning…

 “Immature…”

 Authority figures looking at him in disapproval as he auditioned for various radio stations…

 “Maniacal…”

 Alastor slashing down his hunting knife onto a helpless victim in a snowy wood…

 “Heartless…”

 Alastor dancing and flirting with pretty women but turning away when they tore desperately at his clothes…

 “Couillon…”

 Running away as police dogs bit and tore at his legs…

 “Retard!”

 Pounding on a door in a cold empty asylum room, cold stares from the towering wardens and nurses. Words like “loon”, “wacko,” being mouthed at him as the gray walls closed in…

 A sharp record scratch pierced the air.

 A black and red gloved hand clutched at Husk’s throat. A tight grip lifted the cat several inches off the ground. He struggled to pry off Alastor’s hand, but his hold was firm. Husk struggled and gasped as he frantically tried to gulp for air. The room darkened and soon filled with radio static and floating red Voodoo symbols. Alastor’s large orbs turned pitch black, with small red dials twitching menacingly. He slowly brought Husk close to his face until they were almost nose to nose.

 He spoke in a low demonic radio voice, his mouth not moving.

 “Remember who you’re dealing with. I gave you your privileges, and I can easily take them away.”

 Just when Husk was about to pass out, he casually tossed him aside. He landed with an “oof” onto the floor. The static and symbols vanished as Alastor’s eyes returned to their normal shade of red. Husk groaned and stood up on shaky legs. He took several deep breaths and glared.

 “Guess cats don’t always land on their feet,” Alastor mused as more microphone laughter followed.

 “Get ready for another big day tomorrow!” Alastor called cheerfully to Husk as if nothing had happened. Husk flipped him a middle claw in response as he slouched away. Alastor walked on.

 “Oh Husk,” Niffty called out. “Don’t forget that you need another bath tomorrow. I‘ll be happy to clean you all up!”

 “Suck it, shrimpy bitch!” he yelled.

 “Language, kitty!”

 Niffty hopped down from the bookshelf and scurried toward Alastor. He looked down at her.

 “Well hello little darling!” he greeted to the cyclops maid.

 “Hello Alastor,” she beamed. “I was just finishing up my rounds for the day when I heard you and Husk talking. It sounded like arguing…”

 “Oh it was nothing, my dear! Just Husk in his grumpy cat mood as usual. I was trying to cheer him up.”

 “Okay,” she said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow, so much stuff to do! Is there anything else I can do to help out, sir?”

 Alastor waved his hand, “Nothing at all. You did a splendid job today.”

 “Are you sure?” she asked, her large golden eye darting back and forth. “You know, you look pretty dirty, no offence. Perhaps you could use a nice clean…” She looked over at his staff, then stared at the area around his legs a little bit too long. “Your staff I can so easily reach…”

 She extended her hand with a hungry expression.

 “Ha! No.”

 Alastor instinctively stepped back, his frozen smile still on his face. He walked briskly past her without another word.

 “See you in the morning!” she trilled with a happy wave before scurrying off.

 The room was quiet and empty.

 What in the world just happened?

 A nagging feeling spread through me as I walked in the same direction as Alastor. It was a strange urge to go and talk with him. His tall frame strolled down the hall and up a flight of stairs. I silently followed, careful to stay a distance away and out of sight. As I almost entered my room, Room 42, the feeling compelled me to wander towards Alastor’s room instead.

 His room was across from Charlie’s and Vaggie’s, not too far away from Angel’s. The black door was etched with red Voodoo symbols and had a golden deer knocker. Strangely enough, he left it slightly open. I inched closer and peered through the opening into a dim room.

 “Come in, dear.”

 The door opened wider on its own, revealing Alastor sitting in a dark red throne-like chair on a small balcony. He was facing the sunset sky, but must have sensed my presence. He had taken off his red pinstriped suit and had it neatly folded on a chair, near where his staff was. He appeared to be wearing a dark red old fashioned nightgown with slippers made of deer fur.

 In the room, there was a king-size bed with red satin sheets on it, an elegant bedside table and dresser to match. A small chandelier made of bones hung from the ceiling in the center, illuminating blood red carpets decorated with small golden eyes and antlers in rows. There was a large vanity mirror framed by round theater lights and an array of softly lit candles here and there. And of course, there were old fashioned radios all over the room in various sizes. A four-eyed deer head stared back at me from a plaque on the fancy red wallpaper. More disturbing were the various skin-stitched Voodoo dolls and skulls hanging from the ceiling.

 A cool soothing evening breeze met my face as I stepped outside into the inferno air. I sank down into another chair next to Alastor. The sky was painted a brilliant red and orange, the magenta pentagram glowing and moving above like a revolving clock.

 “I didn’t mean to disturb you sir…” I began. A small radio sat beside Alastor, emitting radio noises and various sound clips. Strangely they sounded almost the same every time I heard them. In fact, his habit of using his microphone for sound effects…it was almost like a comfort mechanism for him.

 “Well usually at a time like this I do prefer to be alone, but since you were nearby…”

 “I just…wanted to make sure you were alright.”

 “I’m perfectly splendid, sweetheart, no need to worry.”

 For a millisecond, his eyes told a different story. Not only did I have better senses, I could read expressions and sense intentions better as well.

 “I believe there is more than that. I heard you guys arguing. Frankly, Husk was being a bit of a jerk.”

 Alastor waved his hand. “That’s what he does.”

 “But it was different this time, wasn’t it?”

 Alastor just shrugged.

 “Charlie and I were talking today and we both can agree: you can’t hide your feelings forever.”

 “Whatever are you talking about?”

 “I can sense that you are lonely, deep down. You want to find a place to belong but your sadistic nature makes others afraid of you. You’re afraid to trust other people.”

 He turned to me with a deadly glare but I remained where I was. “If you’re planning on killing me, there’s no point as I’m already dead. Hear me out for a second.”

 He paused and leaned back to listen.

 “I’m not saying you should reveal your sad secrets to everyone. I’m just saying you should embrace the fact that we all have vulnerabilities and bad days. It’s perfectly okay to cry once in a while. Perhaps your search for entertainment is more than just that. It’s a search for your mother, your friends, a search for your true place on the stage of life.”

 “I’m never fully dressed without a smile,” he seethed with his plastic smile. “End of story. Since when has an audience member gave the star of the show directions?” he inquired, eyebrow raised. “You don’t know anything about me.”

 “Well perhaps you need a better script,” I added, arms folded. I stared at his long yellowed nails, his gloves off for a rare moment. “And serious bodily care.”

 A brief silence. Had I been anyone else, I’d be a pile of ash.

 I continued. “Husk did have a point, though. He wanted to be left alone but you still decided to invade his space. You told Charlie that you want to see people fail, despite her not wanting to hear it. Plus, I’d expect an evil killer like you to take joy in the fact that people run away from you in fear. But you don’t like it. Because you seek something more.”

 “I don’t need to hear your delusional words.”

 “I’m more observant than you think. You created me to be submissive, but also tough and smart. It’s my duty to serve you and the hotel right now. And you bet your bottom dollar that me and your friends will try and do what’s best for everyone.”

 More silence as we watched the sunset in deep thought. After several minutes, I turned to him and couldn’t believe what I saw. I spotted a stray tear fall from Alastor’s eye…and his smile slowly faded.

 I covered my mouth with my hands as I let out a soft surprised gasp.

 His look alone told me that I’d be demon meat if I told anyone else. Fortunately, I never break my promise.

 I thought of all his behaviors I noticed and it suddenly clicked. There was the feeling again, a sense of a peculiar deep connection between me and him. And I figured out what it was.

 “Alastor…do you know what autism is?”

 He gave me a perplexed look. “Stop making things up.”

 “It’s a real thing…but I imagine no one talked about it in your time. Autism is one of many developmental disorders that impairs socialization. Your behaviors appear to be very similar.”

 Alastor growled, teeth bared in warning. “I can assure you that I’m perfectly talkative enough. You call me dumb and I can easily…”

 “I know because I have it too.”

 Alastor’s eye twitched. “What?”

 “Do any of these traits sound familiar to you? Being a nerdy child lost in your own world? Being preoccupied and very skilled in your many talents as you grew up? Never quite fitting in with your peers no matter how hard you try?”

 Nothing was heard but the sounds of radio glitches. Orange light glinted off his monocle under his right eye.

 “Those with autism are often very knowledgeable, setting their minds to something and never letting go of it. But they have a hard time seeing things from another person’s perspective. It’s not that they are antisocial and heartless. Rather, they feel things deeply…but they don’t know how to communicate properly with others around them. Some of them aren’t interested in romance, either.”

 Alastor rolled his eyes. “I have shows to plan for my demonic audience. I don’t have time for feelings and…”

 I continued on. “You’re content with living in your own world of radios, music and murder…because for you, it was the only way to survive and make yourself known in your previous life. Communicating through the radio, playing music, dancing and singing on stage… that is when you feel truly alive. Because your listeners hang onto your every word, not caring who you are on the outside.”

 His pupils grew slightly. “You’re making assumptions. You’re forgetting about murder…”

 “Bringing joy to others outweighs bringing suffering...at least that’s how it should be. There’s nothing wrong with doing what you love…except when it causes harm to others.”

 “Demons kill and eat other all the time. Surely you must know that sometimes death and torture are necessary.”

 “You do have a good point. But…I’m talking about your previous life, and why you were sent down here…”

 “I killed those racist bastards for good reasons. When you discover there’s an afterlife full of magic, you go out of you way to make deals for power. It’s what I’ve been doing for years. It’s impossible to be sinless, for sinners lost their chance to ascend the moment they died on Earth!”

 “But it doesn’t have to be that way. Say we take the necessary steps to prove Heaven wrong…”

 “Heheheh, there you go, sounding delusional like Charlie.”

 “Just be glad I’m not as distrustful or hateful of men as Vaggie.”

 “Angel Dust is probably worse…”

 I chuckled out loud at that. “Personal space isn’t in his vocabulary.”

 I took a breath. “Look Alastor, I’m not saying it will be all be rainbows like Charlie claims. I’m just saying it’s not impossible to redeem sinners. Back to the main topic: we both have autism. Your special interests are radios, entertainment, murder and dark magic.”

 Alastor made a face and shook his head. “That term you mentioned didn’t exist when I was alive,” he said. “Anyone who was considered strange or deviant were ignored at best. At worst, they were arrested, killed or thrown into asylums. If it weren’t for my beloved mother…I would’ve wasted away a long time ago. And despite enjoying the company of beautiful ladies, I’ve never had much interest in intimacy. My broadcasting career was my life.”

 This time I listened quietly. He continued. “I’m only telling you all this because you technically don’t exist in the Hazbin timeline. And because…I can trust you enough, like Charlie and Rosie and Mimzy…”

 He sighed again. “Like a skilled actor, I learned not just how to present myself on the air. Thanks to my mama, I learned how to socialize and mimic others around me. It was a way for me to be confident in the face of daily disdain. Smiling became my way of life…my survival skill. If I were to cry and appear weak, who knows what might’ve happened to me. Eventually I became famous for my broadcasting and my music all throughout Louisiana, but it still wasn’t quite enough. I then found another coping mechanism…”

 The aura around him grew red…

 “One that made me feel like I found my place in the world. How good it felt when I could hear their screams…see the life leave their eyes. How from the moment their bodies turned cold, I knew they could never take advantage of me and my family again…”

 His black antlers arched slightly past his face. He lowered his head as static faded in and out. Here was the infamous and ferocious Radio Demon pouring out his secrets to me. I almost didn’t know what to say.

 He covered his eyes with his hands, long fingers in claw shapes almost tearing at his pale gray skin. His voice broke in a record scratch…and this time he spoke without the radio effect, barely audible: “I miss her so much.” His fluffy ear tufts briefly drooped as he conjured the loving smiling brown face of his French Creole mother in his head.

 We sat in silence for a while. “I hope you can see her again,” I said. “But…you need to have faith. Not in Charlie’s program per se…but in yourself. I know change is hard…I’m not saying go play with dogs and use new technology. I mean, don’t be afraid to explore your feelings, figure out what you truly want in your second life.”  

 Alastor’s remaining tears sizzled off his face and his tufts lifted back up. “That’s easy. I want to entertain others and have everyone do what I want…endlessly feast on flesh and never be bored…”

 “We both know it doesn’t work like that. What you want is nothing compared with what you need. You need love. Friends. The joys of music and a purpose. Instead of killing individuals…you need to kill off your own barriers.”

 “Easier said than done. What if I don’t want to change?”

 “You’ll either spiral downward into madness, or you’ll slowly change for the better while still retaining your good qualities. If you want to see your mother in Heaven, you’re gonna have to put in some effort. I may sound like Charlie when I say this but…I know you can do it.”

 Alastor gradually relaxed, his antlers retreating back to their usual stumps. He soon stood up, anxious to have some space. “Thank you for this lovely chat. Now I’m off to read my scripts and go to bed for a little.”

 I stood up and followed. “How long do you usually sleep?”

 “Thirty minutes,” he shrugged. “I rest by the wall with my eyes open.”

 I gasped out loud and bared my teeth. “Not on my watch, mister. Get into bed, now!”

 “Deer don’t need sleep.”

 I put my hands on my hips. “Everyone needs sleep, especially you! I promise nothing is going to happen. Your shadow will guard your room and suck the soul out of any intruder. Plus you have several friends and kingpins who are loyal to you. You want to truly be the star, Alastor? Start by taking care of yourself. You are the most important person in your life.”

 Alastor smirked. “Like I don’t already know that.”

 “Good. Now rest.”

 I turned to leave before I freeze. Gathering my courage, I turned to Alastor who sat on the bed. “Alastor…may I give you a hug?”

 He stared at me, taken aback. No one had ever asked him for a hug before. He almost flinched when I slowly walked toward him.

 After a moment, his face softened. “Just this once.” He leaned into my arms and chest. I got over my brief surprise by returning the embrace, my eyes closed, tears falling. I opened them and saw to my utter delight, his fluffy red and black deer tail wagging a bit! We soon parted and he wiped the tears from my face with his fingertips.

 “Now darling, don’t forget to smile! You’re never fully dressed without one.”

 I laughed through my tears. His charm worked every time. “Hey, don’t forget to ask people if they want to be touched before you do so. That’s lesson one.”

 “You’re my servant, not my teacher,” he spoke up.

 I spread out my arms. “This is Hell, Alastor, we can be anything. The world is a stage after all!”

 Alastor chuckled, but I sensed that he wasn’t content with taking my advice any time soon. But I had tried nonetheless.

 We bid our goodnights, me feeling slightly better. Just before I closed Alastor’s door and headed for my room, his whisper of a voice floated by my ears:

 “Thank you Ms. Prior. Stay tuned.”  

[ollifree]

Apprentice April Week 1

1. The Basics. What is your character’s name? How old are they? How tall are they? Skin color? Eye color? Hair color? Gender identification?

Skylar, 6’9”, male, dark brown skin, green eyes, curly black hair, 38 y/o

2.  Love Interest. Who does your character love? What attracted them to that particular LI?

Lucio, his main draw being that he really does have a one-of-a-kind personality. Even after meeting so many types of people Skylar still went 👀 when he first heard Lucio open his mouth. It also helps that he’s rather physically attractive. Their main bonding early on happened over their shared immense love of animals.

3. Familiar. Does your character have a familiar? How did they meet?

Skylar has Salsa, a bastard gremlin coyote. How they met is as much of an enigma as the coyote herself.

4. Hobbies. What kinds of things does your character like to do for fun?

You will never find him more than two feet away from a book and that is a threat. He gets outdoor activities in with the dogs, but isn’t a big fan of being outside unless there’s snow on the ground.

5. Hidden talents. Is there something neat that your character can do? Tie a cherry stem into a knot with their tongue? Say any word backwards perfectly?

Very good at constructing card houses, and excels at word problems.

6. Magical talents. Is there a specific type of magic that your character excels at? Any magic they aren’t so great at? Or do they actually shy away from magic altogether?

Skylar’s natural affinities are for fire magic. He does know party tricks, but doesn’t go out of his way to perform them.

7. Interaction. How does your character typically interact with people?

He likes listening to people and learning their stories. For those he becomes friends with he’s stellar at providing emotional support.

8. Romance. What is something that your character and their LI love to do together? How do they show affection?

If your shared love language is physical touch and you aren’t all up in each other’s business 24/7 are you really in a relationship?

9. Travel. Does your character like to travel outside of Vesuvia? How often? For how long? What kinds of things do they do away from home?

He loves travel! It was what he did for the bulk of his life before staying in Vesuvia. He did take a few trips here and there after coming to the city, but never as often or as long as before.

10. WTF. Has anything just…weird ever happened to your character? Something that made them stop and go “What just happened?!”

This was also the bulk of his life during his traveling years. Skylar tends not to be very observant, to the point that almost everything he had his attention drawn to could fit under this umbrella.

Staying in Vesuvia fits here as well. The most he'd ever remained in a place before then was a number of months instead of years.

11. Crime. Has your character ever been arrested? If so, what did they do? Have they ever helped stop a crime?

Never been arrested, no. But, constantly being in new places meant he accidentally busted a few minor laws he was unaware of. He has been detained, however. Thanks, Ilya.

12. Secrets. What is a secret that your character has? Are they in line for the throne in a far off land? Was there this one time at band camp…? Are they secretly involved in an assassin’s guild?

This man’s backstory is so secret I don’t know half of it. Skylar doesn’t intentionally keep secrets so much as he travels so often and meets so many people he’s fallen into the habit of not telling others deeper things about himself. Sure, he could go out of his way to make stronger connections and let people know more about him, but he’s gonna leave in a few weeks anyway.

He is from a noble household, and will tell people this if they ask, but he doesn’t bring it up on his own due to aforementioned reasons.

13. Overcompensation. Is there something that your character just HAS to do better than anyone else? Or are they just that dang good without trying? If they see someone else showing off, what is their kneejerk reaction?

Skylar’s not one for competition or proving he’s the best at anything. He knows his own worth.

14. Fight Club. Is your character a good fighter? What kind of skills do they have?

Despite his affinity for fire magic, he’s much more a defensive person than an offensive one. And he doesn’t care for violence much to begin with.

15. The Arts. Is your character a creative type? What kinds of things can they create? Can they act? Street perform?

Skylar knows a good bit about the arts, but doesn’t have an interest in doing them.

16. Goofy. Is your character a clown? Do they like to make people laugh?

Not outright goofy, but he has a dry wit and is a master of deadpan snark.

17. Language. Is your character multilingual? How many languages do they speak? Do they have an accent? Is it sexy? Is it silly? Do they have a multilingual lisp?

Skylar grew up in a multilingual home! I kept him to six (plus a smattering of words in others) because I didn’t want to outstretch Julian’s eight. His accent mostly comes out in different stresses on consonants and difficulties with some back-of-the-throat sounds. Part of the reason he has Julian’s blessing to keep calling him “Ilya” is that he had trouble with that pronunciation of J.

18. Embarrassment. What is something really embarrassing that your character has done/said?

Please give him a five hour grace period of ignoring his presence whenever he fucks up which word he meant to use.

19. Memory. Has your character gotten any of their memory back? If so, what? Did it change them?

He does get his memory back (all of it), but that being in my own AU that’s replaced game canon. In that he never got his memories back.

20. Family. Talk about your character’s family. Who were they?

Skylar’s immediate family consists of his mother, father, and two older sisters. They lived with aunts, uncles, and cousins of varying degrees: all descended from his grandmother (who he knew) and grandfather (who died early on in his childhood).

[somethinwickedthiswayrides]

I think I may have gotten some of the genders wrong, buuut, it was still fun. :D

Another long one, I also had a bit too much fun writing a couple of them.

The Count (Dutch's Horse)

Finicky little shit.

Along with being spoiled rotten thanks to Dutch.

Hates people with a flying passion.

Has bitten literally everyone in camp, except Dutch, at least twice.

Seriously, don't take a nap by the horses, Count will bite you.

Only allows Dutch to put his tack on, anyone else may get kicked or will get bit.

May let you pet him if you bribe him with enough sugar cubes.

Has not trusted Arthur since he tried to ride him.

HATES Molly.

Silver Dollar (Hosea's Horse)

One of the sweetest horses in camp.

Will gently lay his head on your shoulder if he wants pets.

Highly attuned to sickness, and if usually the very first one to know something is wrong.

Gets very worried with Hosea's coughing.

Loves to be read to.

Helps to keep some of the more energetic horses in line.

Old Boy (John's Horse)

One of the oldest horses in camp.

Like to act tough, but is a big softy.

Loves apples, a bit too much, could eat his body weight in them and still want more.

Likes John and Arthur, but loves Abigail and Jack.

Doesn't like anyone else though.

Loves having his head scratched.

Neil II (Uncle's Horse)

About 110% done.

Loves Uncle, but gets so frustrated with him.

Doesn't like the smell of alcohol.

Loves lazy rides and neck scratchies.

Very relaxed and easy going.

Brown Jack (Bill's Horse)

Gentle Giant.

If he doesn't like you he'll simply walk away from you.

If he does though, he likes to chew on your hair.

Very calm and gentle with people, and doesn't bite.

Likes to rest his giant head on your shoulder though.

Was the only horse that enjoyed his time in Colter.

Loves music, and will try to get into camp when someones playing.

Doesn't like when Bill is mad, and will try to calm him down.

Doesn't like Javier at all.

Boaz (Javier's Horse)

Doesn't understand much in the way of English.

Loves fruit, especially peaches.

Give him some from your can and he'll be your friend.

Very gentle with people, but will nip and bite other horses.

Loves guitar music, and especially when Javier sings.

Doesn't like Grimshaw very well.

Maggie (Lenny's Horse)

Tiny little thing.

People aren't quite sure if she's stunted or hasn't finished growing yet.

The youngest horse in camp.

She's a bit of a goofball, and plays around rather often.

She'll sneak into camp when everyone's asleep to steal things and hide them.

Can't find your boots in the morning? Maggie probably took them and hid them in the nearby bushes.

Has actually nipped John's butt once and when he whipped around to glare she turned her head skyward.

'Oh look, what a pretty cloud.' 'I didn't just nip you.' 'No, that was the other horse.'

Taima (Charles' Horse)

THE sweetest and most gentle horse in camp.

Steps in to calm the other horses if Silver Dollar isn't there or can't get them relaxed.

Generally likes everyone in camp. Even Micah.

Adores Charles, Kieran, and Arthur.

Always seems to know if someones sad, and will try to make them not sad.

Will bite and kick in a fight, has her own body count of assholes trying to shoot at her.

Will let anyone mount her, but wont actually go anywhere unless Charles says its ok.

Branwen (Kieran's Horse)

A touch skittish around people, but compared to Kieran, she's braver than a war horse.

Extremely loyal to Kieran and adores him.

I like to think that one morning, when Kieran was still tied to the tree, the camp awoke to the sound of relieved laughter and baby talk. Everyone just looks over at Kieran and sees a new horse nuzzling his chest.

Just a little older than Maggie, making her one of the youngest horses in camp.

Everyone spoils her and compliments her beautiful coat.

Likes to play around, though not as much as Ennis and Maggie.

Another massive fruit lover.

Surprisingly her preference is Pineapple.

Ennis (Sean's Horse)

Hyperactive and LOVES to run.

Loves to play, and will steal your hat to try and get you to play too.

Thoroughly enjoys rolling around in the dirt/mud and splashing about in water.

Also loves rolling in grass and flowerbeds.

Keeping him clean in a nightmare.

Rather unaware of his size, and tends to knock people over.

Then looks down at you like; 'why are you on the ground, silly human?'

Bob (Sadie's Horse)

Cranky AF.

Loves to charge right into fights.

Enjoys running over his opponents.

Loves Sadie more than anything in the world.

Doesn't really bite people, prefers to just walk away.

Unless you are Micah or Kieran, he doesn't like them.

I like to think that he and Brown Jack like to talk shit about everyone in camp.

Old Belle (Karen's Horse)

Oldest horse in camp.

Prefers sleeping and quiet grazing.

Also enjoys the casual stroll.

Only really likes Kieran and the women.

If she is mildly inconvenienced in any way, and wants a human to fix it, she will nicker, whinny, and carry on until someone comes over.

If no one comes over fast enough, she'll go over to the nearest human, grab their sleeve/back of their shirt/skirt and drag them over to the problem.

Has bitten the shit out of Micah, Ennis, Sean, Uncle, Javier, and Trelawny.

Especially Sean and Ennis.

Baylock (Micah's Horse)

You'd expect an asshat like Micah to have an equally asshole horse.

But no, he has this clown.

He's very calm around other people, and will only bite or kick if given a reason.

If you spend time with him and get him to like you, he becomes the most cuddly little shit in camp.

Like if Micah's riding out and Baylock sees you, he'll make a detour for goodbye scratchies.

Micah acts like this irritates him, but he actually finds it adorable.

The only time you'll find a genuine smile on Micah's face is when he's tending to Baylock, and when he thinks no one's looking.

Baylock likes to steal Micah's hat to try and get the man to play with him.

Buell (Arthur's Horse?)

I like to think that it wasn't until Arthur was gifted Buell, that he finally found a decent replacement for Boadicea.

Buell is a bit of a trouble maker, likes to randomly buck his rider just to he can stand over you like you being on the ground is an offence to his ancestors.

You always get this feeling that Buell is silently judging you. Like he's part cat.

Sneeze and he looks like you just insulted his mother.

Joins Maggie in stealing peoples stuff, though he doesn't hide it.

Doesn't spook very easy, but doesn't particularly like people.

Will kick you. Wont bite though.

Stubborn as hell, if he doesn't wanna move, he ain't gonna move.

Loves people food and will try and steal it.

Strangely enough actually likes cooked meat. Especially rabbit.

This disturbs EVERYONE.

Gwydion (Trelawny's Horse)

A rather dramatic horse.

Will act hurt in a shootout to keep from getting actually shot.

Used to be a show horse, and still remembers her routine.

Enjoys Trelawny's magic tricks, and likes to be apart of them.

Only really likes Trelawny.

[iainwrites]

A Samhain Brouhaha

Harry Dresden, trick-or-treating with Maggie, Karrin and Mouse.  And a tie to the earliest stories I posted on here.

“Charity, you can trust me.”

“Harry, I know you’re trying to be a good man and do right, but you’re also Harry Dresden and that name doesn’t inspire a lot of trust, especially for what you’re asking for.”

“What I’m... All I’m asking for is that I can take her out for one night.  That’s all.”

“I’ve heard that request before, and we both know what came of it.”

“It was an accident!  How was I to know...”

“Yes, Harry.  How were you to know?  Something like this means you need to know, and to be prepared for whatever might happen.”

“... Mouse will be with us.  Do you trust Mouse?”

“I trust Mouse with her life.  But Mouse is just one dog and...

“Murphy will be there, too.”

“... I suppose I can trust Mouse and Karrin to keep an eye on her.  And you too.”

“Great!  Thanks, Charity.  You won’t regret this.”

       My name is Harry... Well, you know the rest.  Wizard and Warden of the White Council, Knight of Winter, Warden of Demonreach, yadda yadda yadda.  It feels like I have more titles than the Cubs at this point, and they all mean something different to someone.  After a while, it just gets tiring repeating them all, and they seem to lose their importance.

      A few years ago, none of this would have meant much for my personal life.  I lived alone, with nothing else in my life but my work and a few people kept at arm’s length that I could call my friends.  It’s funny how the years can change things.  As the world turned, my life kept getting more and more... complete, I guess.  Filled, maybe.  I found out that there are people who look up to me, then that I had a brother, got a dog, found out I had a daughter, then a sort-of-girlfriend-I-think.  Oh, and I died once, became possibly irreversibly connected to one of the greatest powers in the magical community, might possibly be losing my morality, and am currently the master of a jail that makes Area 51 look like an amusement park.  But those things aren’t as important as the family side.

      All of my history, those titles and that backstory doesn’t mean much tonight.  Everything else is pushed to the side, and tonight I’m wearing only one of those mantles.  Maybe the most valued one.  Tonight, I am Harry Dresden: Dad.  And with that mantle comes a responsibility like no other I have shouldered before.

      “Alright, Maggie.  We’ll go whenever you want to.  Charity made sure I know the list of houses that we can go to, and Mouse-bacca will make sure that anyone who's acting too spooky won’t bother us, okay?”

      “Okay...”

      “What?  You don’t believe in the Great Mouse-bacca?  I mean, he might not look like much, but he’s got it where it counts, right?”

      The walking carpet that is my dog actually manages something that sounds closer to a Chewbacca warble than his usual chuffing sound.  Matched with the belt slung around his middle and a little bit of brown dye, it’s hard to mistake him for anything other than a Wookie.  The rest of us are dressed in a way that makes it impossible to see us as anything but nerds.

      Maggie, with the help of a mother who has spent more years making costumes than anyone else I can begin to think of, is dressed up in a Rey costume, complete with a little lightsaber.  Karrin and I nearly came to blows over what we were going to wear.  I’m... well, ME, so of course I’d be the dashing and roguish Han Solo, right?  And my partner is a giant, furry thing.  It practically writes itself!  Karrin argued that I’m the dork and should be Luke Skywalker, while she’s the cool guy with the gun.  She may have also mentioned something about being able to kick my ass.  And so here she stands in her black vest and over-sized pistol at her side and looking (damn me for saying this) appropriately Han Solo-y.

      I wasn’t content with being Luke, and am not nearly old enough to be rocking the Sir Alec Guinness look, so I settled on something a little more my style.  Thanks to a mop of hair as a result of living out on a deserted island for way too long, a scar across an eye thanks to a past encounter and a penchant for flirting with the dark side of magic, I gussy myself up as an over-sized Anakin, pre-lava bath.  With a little help from Andy, we managed to make up a casing for my blasting rod that looks like the hilt of a lightsaber.  A little focus and the blade lights up with a nice shade of blue, thanks to a little help from Winter.  We couldn’t figure out how to get it to sound right, so I end up making the sounds myself.  All in all, we look like a nice, nerdy family out for some trick-or-treating.  And that’s how it all began: a nice, nerdy sort-of family trick-or-treating together.

      I was worried when we started out that all of the costumes, noise and excitement might be too much for Maggie.  I mean, there’s a lot that usually goes on during Halloween night.  For the normal people, at least.  There’s the noises, the lights, the people running around costumes that go from home-made to movie quality.  And while she starts off close to Mouse, Murphy and me at any particular time, she eventually starts to look the way she should: a little girl out on Halloween, hitting up houses for a sugar fix.  She might not be running around Hell and Creation like some of the other munchkins out there, but there is a smile on her face, and a little bounce in her step.

      Mouse, Murphy and I take turns going up to doors with her, each of us to varying degrees of success.  Mouse always seemed to be a lock for more candy, because whenever she comes back the bag feels a lot heavier.  When she goes up with Murphy, Karrin comes back with a smile on her face, with just a hint of conflict hidden underneath.  A part of me wants to ask; the intelligent part knows to stay quiet.  The detective part of me has suspicions.  When she was married to Rich, there was tension around them having kids and her staying home to take care of them.  Going up to a door with a kid for Halloween and being told that your “daughter” is cute is probably playing around in head each time.

      When I take her up, I get to experience my own brand of head and heartache.  I keep hearing them ooh and ahh over her costume, and how sweet or cute or cool she looks, then there’s the looks up to me.  And I hear them say again how sweet she looks.  And it tears a piece out of my heart each time.  Susan and I should be taking her out for this.  Susan should be here with our daughter.  Our daughter should never have had to go through everything she’s gone through.  She should be living a normal life, spooked of the costumes at Halloween because she has an overactive imagination, not because of what she’s lived through.  And I smile, try not to loom so much, thank them and squeeze my little girl’s hand when we walk back to the street.  I steel myself for the next time that I’ll hear those words, and try to make the most out of this first father/daughter Halloween.

      On my side of the magical divide, Halloween has this recent habit of being more exciting each year.  The wearing down the divide between the living and the dead, necromantic rituals, changing of mantles, and the killing of immortals seem like they’re only the tip of the iceberg these days, and there’s always the little whisper in my ear that there’s going to be more.  Somehow, I manage to trick myself for a fair portion of the night that this one will be different.  That the creepy crawlies from the other side will take the night off and give me a chance to have a well-deserved break.

      Yeah, right.  The author of my life isn’t ever going to be that nice to me.

      The first indication is the sudden jerk of Mouse’s leash.  He’s usually happy to trot along at his own pace, with the leash there to show everyone he’s a well-behaved dog.  It’s not uncommon for him to stop and smell the proverbial roses; but for him to stop because there’s something he wants to stop, that’s enough to get my attention.  The only thing that stands out around us is a small pack of costumed clowns hanging a little ways back.  They all have the shabby zombie costume that seems to keep its firm grip from year to year, combined with some cheap masks.  The clothes portion of the costumes are pretty good, comparatively; they look distressed, like there was some actual damage to them.  I know those kinds of rips and tears intimately.  They even got the blood patterns around the tears right.

      The night gets cold when I realize that some of the rips and the stains look fresh.  And have that quality that costumes either exaggerate or downplay.  I look from the costumes to the people (no, things) wearing them.  They move in sync, coordinated.  My brain goes back to my throw-away description of them and revises is: a little ways back behind us is a small Pack of costumed wolves.

      The Pack.  A holdover from an old fight some Hunters and I should have finished and buried.  They’re a roaming group of monsters who hunt together, and have been the death of innocents and those that have tried to stop them.  The legendary Hunter John Winchester worked with the fledgling Black Cats to kick their asses up around their mouths decades back.  After a misunderstanding, Karrin and I teamed up with his sons, Sam and Dean, to ring the bell on Round 2.  We didn’t finish them off, but I thought we left them with a nose that was so bloody that they’d never want to try hunting together again.  Apparently, the lesson wasn’t definitive enough for them, because here they stand, lesser in number but still a threat to everyone walking this street.

      Karrin must have realized that we’ve been left behind, because she calls back to us.  “You okay, Harry?”

      Mouse clues in that I’m clued in and goes from alert growl to “stay way the hell away” growl.  “Yeah,” I reply.  “Mouse just has to use the little doggy’s tree.  We’ll catch up with you in a little bit.”

      “You sure?  We can wait.”

      My gut starts to get wrenched around.  I want my daughter to be safe, and safe is away from these things.  But if she’s sent away, that means I can’t be there to protect her.

      But Murphy will be there, and short of Michael, she’s the one person I know I can trust to keep my daughter safe.  “We’ll be there in a bit.  I’m going to take Mouse away from the street so nobody has to get caught up in it.  Have you been feeding him table scraps again, Maggie?  Because you’ll have to clean up you’ve been sneaking taco’s to Mouse.”

      My daughter gives off a little giggle and Mouse lets off the subsonic growl long enough to give a happy little chuff.  I pat his head, wave to Karrin and Maggie and start to lead him to an alley, digging out one of the plastic bags we’ve been using for Maggie’s haul.  I see Karrin look from me to Mouse, to the Pack and unlatch her blaster.  Just like I put a case around my blasting rod, she has a plastic shell around her service pistol.  It might not be much, but it’ll sure as hell slow down anything that I let get past me.

      The Pack seem to size up Karrin and Maggie as they leave.  Their gaze stays on them for a very uncomfortable time, before slowing coming back to me.  The message is loud and clear: “We saw them, we’ll remember them and we’ll find them.”  Yeah?  I have my own message.

      “Okay, assholes.  You were dumb enough to sign up for Round 3, so let’s find a nice quiet corner so I can beat on you like I’m Rocky.”

      As they follow me, one makes its way out of the main body, to stand in front of them like a spokesperson.  I can tell even underneath the costume what it is, and a fire starts to burn through my veins.  Human sized, but not human like. Extra-long arms that end in claws.  An unhealthy color that some could pass off as make-up but I recognize as naturally disgusting.  And behind the mask, eyes that are weighing and measuring you up for its plate.  A ghoul.  A ghoul who has seen my daughter.  Ever since the Red Court was dealt with, the whole race of ghouls have been moved up to the top of my “Things That World Will Never Miss” list.  This one just reserved extra special placement.

      I take my hand off of Mouse’s lead as he and I turn in sync to stare at the Pack.  The lead ghoul stops only a few feet away from me.  The alley is barely wide enough for Mouse and I to stand side-by-side, but that also means that they’re limited by how many can come forward at a time.  It’s not my favorite ring to fight in, but there’s been worse.  “Okay.  Say your piece, then let’s get started.”

      “You assume too much, wizard,” the ghoul says to me.  I’m not sure if it’s actually speaking English or if I still understand Ancient Sumerian as a parting gift from Lash.  Whatever the case, it sounds like a snake slithering over broken bottles.  “What stops the hunters at the mouth of the alley from going back out to the street?  You?  The dog?”  Damn it.  “No.  You will hear what we have to say, you and the beast will die, then we will go out and continue our hunt.”

      “Alright, Smiley.  Let’s hear it, then.”

      “You are known, Wizard.  You are remembered.  The Pack knows your scent.  You went to ground, but have decided to appear again.”  There’s a murmur behind the ghoul that could politely described as “agreement”, if agreement was made up of growls and rumbles.  “You may have bested us in the past, but that is when you hunted with others.  The Winchesters.  They are known to us.  They are remembered.  They will be found.”

      For a ghoul, this guy is practically Shakespeare.  This is the most I’ve ever heard from one before and it all comes across as understandable.  “Alright.  So what’s your point here?  Are you just going to keep talking until I go into a coma so you don’t have to strain yourself?”  I keep my attention off of it and on the ones in the back in case they decide to amscray back onto the street like they were threatening to do.  “Because there’s actually stuff that I want to do tonight.  If that means I have to walk through all of you to get there, and this sounds weird coming from me, let’s stop talking and get it done.”

      “No, Wizard.  You do not decide the Hunt.  The Pack hunts its prey, and when it is cornered, their lives are ours.  You, a human, have no say in what happens.  Should we decide to kill you, you will die.  Should we decide to eat your beast, it will be eaten.  If we decide to hunt your mate and your whelp, they are ours for as long as we wish and for what we wish.”

      “You don’t want to do this,” I mutter, while Mouse begins to growl behind me.  The only mercy I can think of is that Karrin is away from us, and that Maggie will be safe with her.  I might even be able to take a few of them with me.  I might be able to protect my daughter from what’s to come.

      The ghoul doesn't break eye contact with me, but I’m willing to be to bet that it knows what’s going on and what’s going to happen.  The cocky bastard doesn’t even seem to care.  “Oh, I think I do, wizard.  I think I will.”  The Pack behind him shifts, the sounds of claws scraping ground, of bones snapping and reforming into monstrous forms.  I get a death grip on the lightsaber case and start to will my power into it.

      Why?  Why does this always have to happen?  I try to take my daughter out for something nice, like a trip to the zoo or out for Halloween, only for things to go sideways on us.  This life, this job, this responsibility... I’m okay with it.  But I want to be a father once in a while.  I want to try and give Maggie a normal life whenever possible, but something seems so damn set in ruining that for us.  There is always something that shows up and ruins things and keeps me from connecting with my own daughter.  Susan should be here.  Our lives shouldn’t be so... wrong.  She should be allowed to grow up with a mother and a father and never have to worry about all of these things.  All of this is happening and I’m just about ready to...

      Something around us changes.  I’m not even aware of it until I hear something shift in Mouse’s voice.  It still carries a sound of warning, but there’s something else.  Anticipation?  Excitement?  A certain reckless happiness that his human sometimes shows?  He’s ready for a fight, but there’s something that’s allowing him to relax, even in the smallest ways.  He’s not worried about the fight.  From what I hear, he might even be looking forward to it.  I do a quick scope around me to see what could flip the switch in him.  Turns out it’s a lot closer than I’d ever expect.

      It’s my blasting-saber.  A firey shade of orange is starting to appear in the core nearest the hilt.

      Its old color.  Something from years ago that has since been covered in Winter ice.

      MY old color.  A color of will, and excitement, and barely controlled power, all of it coming from me.  Not a mantle.  Not a mostly immortal Faerie Queen.  

                                                      Me.

      I bring my eyes back up to the ghoul, and I smile.  It’s not a nice smile, but it’s one with a promise.  “Let me rephrase that.  You’re NOT going to do this.”

      The remnants of the Pack shift, the faces under their costume masks shifting.  Most of them change their posture and flex their hands, getting ready for the fight they’ve been working themselves up for all night.  What they don’t understand is that the moment they looked at my daughter, they didn’t have a chance in Hades.

      “Here’s why you’re not going to do that.  In fact, here’s why after tonight, you’re never going to see each other every again.”  A few give off growling laughs.  “I am Harry Dresden.  I am a wizard and Warden of the White Council.”  “Warden” makes a few of them twitch.  “I am chosen by Mab, Queen of Winter, Air and Darkness to be her Knight.  I wear the mantle of Winter, and I wear it very damn well.”  Mouse has stopped growling by now, as though he doesn’t want to take any attention off of me.  “I am Warden of Demonreach, jailer to nastier bastards than you’ll all ever be.  Combined.”  The blue of my blasting-saber exists only on the outside of the blade; fire is making up the core and it’s becoming a brighter shade of red with my every word.  “I am Bane of the Red Court.  The one who has outplayed and overcome Death.  My ride is one of the greatest predators to ever roam this earth, and I brought it back from millennia of rest. I am Ally to Hunters and Slayers.  I know and will invoke the names Winchester and Summers.  I have been tempted by and refused a coin of the Blackened Denarius.  I have led the Wild Hunt.”  THAT gets their attention like I know it would.

      The air around us suddenly gets warmer.  Almost spring-like, like the nights you sit outside near a fire.  There might be a chill in the air, but there’s also the promise of warmth and comfort.  The snow starts to melt and the grass can be seen again, and there might even be the faint sign of flowers starting to bloom.

      Life and warmth after a snow that never seemed like it would leave.

      The various creatures in front of me start to look around, probably trying to figure out what all this means.  The quicker ones figure it out and look at me, the hostility they had been showing before beginning to melt away, revealing something almost like fear.  But right now?  Fear is not enough.  Fear can be conquered or forgotten.  They need to feel something much more permanent.

      “I am Harry Dresden.  This is MY city.  And this is MY night.  I claim it by birth and by my strength.”  The tension that’s been building in this little alleyway just... pops around me.  If there’s a pressure, I don’t feel it anymore.

      “You have threatened my daughter, and I will protect her.  Ask the Red Court what that promise means.”  I let those words hang in the air, full of meaning and threats.  “This is my city, and I will protect it.  Ask anyone how far I’ve gone to keep it safe, and what happens to the people that threaten it.”  I let my blasting-saber dip until it nearly touches the pavement, which starts to send up wisps of smoke.  “The people who live here are my people, and I.  Will.  Protect.  Them.  Ask the Heirs of Kemmler and the Black Court what that oath means.”

      I don’t make any of this a challenge, or a brag, or something to piss them off.  These are all things that simply are.  They’re all true, like that the sun rises or that water is wet.  You can argue and try to ignore it all you want, but these things are, have been and always will be.  I am who I am, and I do what I do, no matter the mantle I wear, or what tries to change me.

      “So here’s what you’re going to do.  Tonight, I curse the name ‘Pack.’”  There’s another subtle pop in the air as those words gain meaning and permanence.  Words have power, and I invest a portion of my own self into those words.  “All those who live under it do so under pain of... Well, death is too nice.  Non-existence.  Erasure from history.  I will call in every favor, from the crater of Sunnydale to the Isle of Manhattan and every road of that cuts across this country.  You will cease to exist.  You will never be spoken of and you will never be remembered.  And you will all die bloody.”  I draw my gaze from one face to another, never letting off until they look away first.  They wouldn’t need to Soul Gaze me to know what is on my mind; it’s pretty damn apparent to any of them with half a clue.  “You will never run together again.  You will not do it under the name Pack, or any other name.  Because if I hear so much as a rumor that a group of creatures attacked an innocent person, you’re done.  You will be found, then you will be gone.  This right here is your only warning.  Any questions?”

      “And you,” I say to the ghoul.  I start walking forward, the cape billowing behind me, my blasting-saber burning a line in the ground.  I get right up to its face, and lean down towards its ear.  “I really, really hate fucking ghouls,” I whisper.  “And I know how hard your kind is to kill.  I have experience with that.  But you want to know something?”  

      I whip the blasting-saber down and take its hand off at the wrist.  We both look down at it in surprise.  I was expecting some burning, maybe a little cut, but not full blown lightsaber action.  I doubt it was expecting anything at all.  We both bring our eyes back up and I stare it down one more time.  “I have one more title for you: I was the Fire of Camp Kaboom. There was a message that was sent back with a survivor.  I told it ‘Never Again.’”  And I bring the blade flashing up in an arc and sear through its head with barely any resistance.  The head drops with a stunned look on its face as the body falls back into the hastily made space its friends make.

      “Never again.  Never again in my presence, in my city or to my people.”  I bring my gaze to each of them once again, but this time, nobody is too excited to look me in the eye.  “Do I need to repeat that to any of you?”  None of them reply. I snake out the blasting-saber again and take a chunk out of a rawhead and take out what looks to be a rugaru at the waist. That’s the sign they needed to break away and run, but not before I take a couple of slashes at their retreating asses.  I manage to down some; Mouse manages to run down another before it makes it to the mouth of the alley.  The ones I see escape split up.  When I step back onto the street, they’re long gone.

      Mouse and I take some time getting rid of the bodies, thanks to some creative uses of Ways and a few convenient garbage cans. The ghoul got some extra-special treatment, just like I promised.  I only realized how much time had actually passed when we finally caught up to Murphy and Maggie.  They’re less than a block away from the Carpenter’s home, with Karrin carrying an impressive haul of sugar filled goodness.  Even with all the best intentions, I still missed my first night of trick-or-treating with my daughter.  I try not to let my disappointment show as I lope up to them and ruffle Maggie’s hair.

      “Ha... Dad?  Are you okay?”

      “Yeah, I’m okay.  Just had to help Mouse clean up a mess.”

      “Your lightsaber is red.  Um... Isn’t red the color bad guys use in Star Wars?”

      “A lot of them do.  But remember the end of Return of the Jedi?”

      “We never finished it.  The Emperor... I don’t like what he says to Luke.”

      “He’s a pretty scary guy, and his threats are pretty serious.  But when he threatens Luke, Vader decides that his son is more important than his master.  He decides to fight against the Dark Side.”

      “So... Vader... becomes a good guy?”

      “It’s... complicated.  He did bad things, but family helped him so he could try to be good again.  He decided what to do, and that he didn’t want to follow the Emperor’s orders anymore.”

      “So, you’re like Darth Vader.”

      “... Yeah.  And the people I care about are helping me come back to the Light Side of the Force.  There’s going to be... bad things in my past, and there are going to be people who tell me what I have to be, but I decide whether that’s who I am.”

      “That’s... you’re kind of a cool guy.”

“Cooler than Han Solo?”

      “Well Mouse is cooler than Chewbacca, and he’s your partner.  So I guess that means you’re cooler than Han.”

I admit, it kills some of the cool vibes, but I squeeze Karrin on the shoulder and as she looks up at me, I stick out my tongue like I’m a kid.  I get an elbow in my hip in return, but it’s worth it.   I’ve never gone out trick-or-treating before tonight, so my expectations were pretty low.  But this was actually pretty fun.  And my daughter thinks I’m a cool dad.  Yeah.  That’s never going to go to my head.

      “Hey, Dad?”

      “Yeah, kiddo?”

      “Do you want to stay after we get back and watch Return of the Jedi?  If you’re there, I think I can make it past the Emperor this time.”

      “I’d love to, Maggie.”

      Murphy gives my hand a tug, and gives a nod of her head to let me know she wants to whisper something to me.  

      “I don’t know everything that happened, but you were pretty amazing tonight, Dresden.  And it’s your birthday.  There’s a Slave Leia costume I think we should break in later.”

      I love Halloween.

      “But you’re wearing it.”

      … Happy birthday to me.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 9: So Tristan Died

Been resisting that springtime urge to buy a house plant and watch it slowly die while everyone else on my timeline posts beautiful terrariums and wallscapes. I have murdered nearly every plant I own, I have no idea why, I have killed several cacti. But I just found out about logees.com and y’all. Have you seen a rock fig? I want it so bad.

So, instead of wasting my money, I will write here and...not click buy on that rock fig. That beautiful beautiful rock shaped plant. That incredible and glorious miniature Deku Tree.

Also, this week Tumblr said that they’re extending the post limit size for text posts and like...there was a text post limit? Y’all I assumed these posts were hella long, (and in fact way, way, way too long) but like, I never capped a text post limit so...I guess I do all right.

So, switching over to Yugioh, we’re back with the Tristan-Duke-Serenity trio, who are still fighting over Serenity, the world’s most oblivious child. I haven’t gone over too much what their high and low points have been over these past like 5ish episodes but here’s what they’ve been up to, a refresher course of what they’ve been doing since Tristan drowned a Rhinoceros turtle in the lake.

1.) Serenity sneezed once and the Tristan and Duke had a big fight over who gave Serenity a cold

2.)

Sorry that’s all they’ve done. I really thought this would be a list when I started.

It’s been so boring that Serenity has decided this has been the best part of her tourney vacation (she is not wrong). And I just realized--she went to great lengths to get her eyes fixed and now she’s trapped in the VR zone and she doesn’t even need eyes to be here. Hell, if she gets trapped here, she’ll never need eyes again, she’ll have permanent perfect vision 24/7. We keep finding new alternatives instead of spending millions of dollars on Serenity’s eyes and the show kind of glazes over it.

Anyways, we learn a lot about Serenity this episode, mainly that Serenity is a little bit of a space cadet.

(Every episode Duke’s necklace is a little bit more simplified and today it is...almost just a cross. I look forward to seeing what necklace’s final form will be.)

Duke is supposed to be the antagonist of the three, but it really comes off that Tristan and Serenity have goldfish memories and somehow do not recall being launched down a hyperspace tube by five insane computer ghosts trying to consume their bodies. Most people would not forget that happening so like...it’s kinda hard not to side with Duke. Weird that the guy with such ridiculous hair is actually the most level headed person here.

And honestly, if Yugi had been speaking, then Joey and Serenity would have sobered up. Kind of a bummer that Duke doesn’t have the card cred, although Tristan was there when Duke beat Joey.

Like this episode was somewhat frustrating because Duke Devlin really is supposed to be incredibly good at cards, a kid who has only been beaten by the Pharaoh himself, and Tristan and Serenity sort of don’t believe him for some reason. Duke owns a version of the game they are playing. Like, he has ownership over Dungeon Dice and they don’t...care? It’s really weird, but it’s not like Duke has really done anything for an entire season so maybe he deserved this?

But considering that he’s been running for his life/kidnapped since they met up again 2 days ago during Kaiba’s tourney, maybe Duke just has no choice but to hang out with these people who do not respect him at all.

(read more under the cut)

Also, they’re still keeping it a secret that Duke beat Joey because...they’re still lying out of their ass for Serenity’s self esteem. It’s Season 3 and we’re still very concerned that Serenity cannot handle the truth. This girl was in a hospital for weeks and completely blind, I’m pretty sure if anyone can handle hard truths, it’s this girl. But, she’s very pretty, so better not spook her.

I am impressed that this random throwaway plot point from the beginning of S2 has come back to haunt us.

It checks out. This was about as much credentials that Joey had when he joined Pegasus’ tourney. I mean, Joey trained with Grandpa but Grandpa full on died in the middle of their training so...Tristan should have been fine this episode, he’s been interning with card people for like...years.

Anyways, this is where everyone else is.

And Noah decides to try his carrot-under-a-box trick that has so far worked on literally every child he has tried it on.

These kids cannot resist a door to save their lives--and that’s really the whole thing. If they resist the door, then boom, their lives are saved. But nah. Gotta open every door. So they enter, and behind this door is, you guessed it--their favorite place, the ever recurring supervillain of all of Yugioh,

Wow.

Anyways, the fourth of the Big 5 is here and he is a robot that’s gonna do some Russian ballet to the Nutcracker Suite.

Finally, someone who’s strong enough to safely do the ballet alongside Tea.

*I did not watch Gundam, I spent my Torrent days watching Cowboy Bebop and Love Hina and I remember none of it.*

Speaking of, Love Hina--that one probably didn’t age well, didn’t it?

Tristan just digging his own grave for no reason is basically the rest of this episode. Duke Devlin was their out. Duke Devlin has been primed to die for like a full season but then Tristan had to go and fight a giant robot like an idiot. Which is not a sentence I thought I’d be typing about Yugioh, the show about a haunted card game.

PS, I just remembered something. One sec, let me dig this up, something I wrote in S1 that at the time, when everything was about magic and soul snatching, seemed so outlandish that it would never actually happen.

I can’t believe that I predicted myself but at the same time was still just so wrong, because not only do they already have Gundams, they also are card playing Gundams.

This giant VR Gundam could just step on them, right? Like just step on them? I get that would be against Noah’s set of rules but like...

...just a little step.

And what’s even more nuts about this show, is that some things I knew going in, some things you can’t escape just living here on the internet, like Yugi being strapped to a saw at some point (I just didn’t realize it would be from...a clown and would have *such freakin large blades attached*, it was very sudden) and them dueling from the backs of motorcycles (which apparently isn’t even this show. Apparently dueling motorcycles is a spinoff and y’all...kind of disappointed by that). But Gundams? This universe is so zany that Gundams just went completely under the radar.

*this robot casually wearing a jumbo duel disc*

Faced with the reality of none of his friends ever take him seriously, Duke decides to find a weird compromise and asks for double duel. Thing is, this robot also can’t take Duke seriously, and so this super backfires.

Would it in fact simplify everyone’s dating life if we had a 1 in 3 situation? I mean it’s already a mess because we have two 3 in 1′s, but we could balance that right out with a 1 in 3. Then the math will be correct. Balance will be achieved.

And that was how Disaster Serenity sort of stumbled her way onto a dueling platform and killed her brother’s 2nd (3rd) best friend (4th if you count Joey’s rivalry with Kaiba).

Tristan, who’s job as a volunteer janitor is to clean up messes, could not clean up after this Wheeler hot mess.

This is a card now? OK. I see you, product placement. I see why you made Duke Devlin pick up a deck again. Just for this product. That’s fine. At least we did something with Duke Devlin. But we could have maybe used him at any point outside of dungeon dice monsters, ya? Like any point?

Anyway, Serenity explains that if they tell her exactly what to do, they will be fine, so the robot catches wind of this and does this move

Of course. Of course the abandoned warehouse is now full of lava.

Serenity doesn’t even know the rules since she was actually blind until yesterday. She recalls faintly that on the train Tristan told her the rules, and that there were stars on the card that line up with power or whatever. So she looks down at the card and goes “Ah! there are little stars on here!” she plays it, and she realizes that no one has ever told her that sometimes they are placed sideways. Basically Serenity playing this episode as a recently not blind woman would be like me playing cards as someone who fast forwards through all the shuffling.

It’s hard to say if it’s Serenity who caused all this or Tristan who didn’t just let Duke do his one job. Either way, Tristan will absolutely find a way to blame this on Duke until about the point Tristan dies. Between Tristan refusing to play ball with Duke Devlin who is actually a card expert and Serenity playing all of her cards the wrong direction, I’m fully ready for Tristan to die by the end of this episode. Boy had a million chances to just chill and let Duke do his thing so ya, kill him.

Anyways, here’s a desert brought to you by yellow ochre. A LOT of yellow ochre.

Was this also a background for an 80′s space anime?

At some point Nezbitt sat in a boat and watched Kaiba launch what appears to be nuclear missiles at a missile factory. Kaiba did say he needed to throw out the old and start over so like...do Marie Kondo the way you need to do that Marie Kondo thing, Kaiba. This clearly did not bring you joy.

Anyway, lets skip to the good stuff. That’s right this boy: dead because he couldn’t not.

As you all know, I’ve been looking forward to Duke Devlin dying for such a long time now. I’ve been waiting here, tapping my fingers delicately together all Mr Burns-style expecting that the only way they could possibly find a use for Duke Devlin--since they refuse to give him any cards--would be to die.

But guys. I forgot about Tristan.

(bro wants to point out that right above the dungeon dice card was the revive card that would have come in handy right about now.)

Truly unexpected, standing in between Serenity and Duke, the most killable of the Yugioh franchise, Tristan freakin died.

But most importantly, we’re getting very close to death 169 (nice). We skipped 69 proper (a shame) because *somebody* had to kill just a chunk of people at once, Kaiba. So...who’s it gonna be? Probably the Big 5 member who’s cosplaying around as a Sexy Fish? chances are good.

Anyway, if you just got here, we’re in Season 3, if you would like to start at the beginning in S1, click here to read my so many recaps of this show. I cannot believe how much Yugioh content is in this Yugioh show.

[smokinholsters]

It’s a Clown’s World

“You are absolutely not going to believe this.” Amy said to Ty as he came into view coming up the stairs. “Rollo cancelled, car accident, he’s Ok but busted up some. He’s called everyone he knows to replace him and come up empty.”

Ty frowned “Let’s get over to the house maybe someone there will have an idea.”

Amy walked over and grabbed Lyndy who was playing quietly in the living room. On the way over Amy sighed “she loves clowns Ty, I was so excited for her.”

Inside Jack took Lyndy with a smile “Happy Birthday sweetheart” he cooed at her before setting her down. A second later she was after poor Remi who would let her chase him and then lay down for a cuddle.

“Our clown cancelled.” Ty told Jack and Lisa “he’s been trying to find a replacement but no luck. She loves clowns.”

“Well, I’m heading over to Fairfield, let me call the booker we use for parties and see what he can do. I’ll be back by party time, you’re all set up sweetheart and Lou’s on her way back.”

Lisa started the Porsche, hit send on the phone and backed away.

“Lisa, I trust you and Jack are good, what a pleasure to hear from you, how can I be of assistance.”

“Hey Bert, need an emergency clown for today, lunch.”

“That’s the second call about a clown this morning. No luck Lisa, sorry.”

“It’s fine, we’ll figure something out. Thanks Bert.”

The call disconnected and Lisa sighed. “Poor Amy, she really wanted this, Lyndy won’t know the difference but she absolutely loves clowns.”

She sighed again, “it’s been 40 years Lisa” she said out loud to herself then smiled “It’ll definitely still fit, if my gear is still good, why the hell not, wouldn’t hurt to look.”

Instead of heading to the office when she parked she went up three flights to the attic. She’d seen it, it was hard to miss considering it had a big Ringling Bros. stencil on it.

Lisa pulled it out and maneuvered it to the center of the room. She snapped it open and smiled, there she lay, Pipa the Clown, Registry number F16754W. With a smile still plastered on her face by the memories flooding back she removed the small folding seat, opened it and sat down. She lifted the sealed packet and ripped open the seal.

First she removed her hat which as always snapped open efficiently, the red and white diamonds still bright. Then she popped out the one piece, standing she snapped it once to allow the air to enter the baffles and it expanded. The large red and white leather shoes still soft and pliable came next. Lastly her collar which opened after she pulled the little tab.

Looking down she took a deep breath, she could almost smell the greasepaint.

The attic at Fairfield was not typical of say a home like Heartland. Treasures were stored here, antiques of all types and artwork. There were two hidden safes and a sealed refrigerated closet to hold furs through the warm months. There were no moths here, no dampness, it was temperature controlled and more importantly right now, there was a full bathroom.

First she needed to get washed. She stared in the mirror and flashed back to her first time. She had done it 4 times in her life, each exhilarating. While she got ready she thought back to the expression on her father’s face. “Circus Camp ?”

“It sounds like fun dad, we have to be in Sarasota anyway for the racing season, you said find something.”

“I figured summer school or theater or something Lisa not Clown Camp.”

“Come on Dad it says after three sessions I can perform and register my egg.”

“What ?”

“The International Clown Egg Registry.”

“You know Lisa, fine, I have no idea what your mom would have thought about this.”

“We’ll keep it between us but you have to promise to come see me perform.”

“You have my word.”

Once washed she stripped off her blouse and covered her shoulders with a big towel.

She grabbed two floor lamps and set them up then sat down on the stool and snapped open her make-up case, then adjusted the mirror. Lisa had been taught old school, it was why she was pretty sure this would work. She pulled out a porcelain bowl and began with the bright white. Measuring out white powder and then opening a container. She moved and folded with a small metal spatula and soon was back in the rhythm smoothing and folding until it was perfect. She set it aside and then started on the other colors. Lisa was the real deal, taught by pros, she mixed her own makeup to spec to match her egg. She looked over at the encased photo to make sure the colors were perfect. There was only one Pipa the Clown in all the world, and she, was always perfect.

As she spread the white foundation and let the first light layer dry she pulled off the gloves she had donned and sent a text to Amy. “Clown found and booked !! I’m running late, minor client issue, I’ll be along.”

She glanced at the response “You’re like a super hero Lisa !!”

“Super Pipa to the rescue !!” Lisa muttered reaching for the makeup.

The transformation from Lisa Stillman to Pipa the Clown once took about an hour, so she wasn’t disappointed at the hour and 20 minutes she took. Walking over to the stand up mirror in the corner she turned back and forth. She straightened her collar and pressed down her hat. She banged the edge of her huge shoe turning and stopped to adjust her mindset to a size 16 shoe.

Then she reached for her bag of tricks and refilled the balloons after checking them, she grabbed her juggling balls and filled her lollipop wand with magic glitter powder and then carefully headed downstairs. She called an Uber for a half hour and made arrangements for a pickup later at Heartland to make her escape and get back, then she sat down, began writing out cards and waited.

While she wrote she thought back to her first day walking into the Sarasota Circus grounds and being welcomed. The smell, the feel, the atmosphere was electric. For the first few weeks they worked closely with the animals to allay any fears while also taking classes in clown demeanor, deportment and appearance. There were guidelines that needed to be memorized and rules that were strictly enforced. She learned about the trains, take down and set up and she was assigned daily chores. The most exciting part though was sitting with several clowns and designing who she would be. As the first session came to an end she remembered how exhilarated she felt and how she looked forward to the next session she’d be able to attend.

She stood hidden in the doorway when she got the text that her car was on the way and snuck out as stealthily as she could but not stealthily enough. Lisa noticed Laura her manager and rushed to the car and then waved the driver to just go. She hoped she wasn’t noticed and looked back. Didn’t seem Laura had moved so she assumed she was safe.

Laura on the other hand didn’t move because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, a clown, carrying a big bag, just rushed into a car from the house, and took off in a hurry.

Lisa in character sent a text to Amy apologizing that her client needed to be dealt with and she would be late, the clown was on the way and then turned off her phone so that it wouldn’t ring every time someone tried to contact her.

Laura immediately tried Lisa and got a message so she shrugged and dialed the sheriff.

Amy came out onto the porch as the car pulled up and Lisa/Pipa got out. She handed a twenty to the driver who promised to be back as scheduled and Pipa climbed up the stairs and bowed elaborately, then she reached into her bag and took out a big sign with the name Pipa the Clown printed on it next to a picture of a hand with a finger pointing at her.

Amy laughed “You’re Pipa, I’m Amy, good to meet you.”

Pipa nodded and put out her hand for Amy to shake and then stood. Amy looked at her or him, Amy thought her and Pipa opened her eyes wide and pointed at the door.

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry” Amy laughed and opened the door “We’re so happy you were able to come, I’m glad they could find you on such short notice.”

Pipa smiled and reached into her bag and pulled out a large phone receiver to show Amy and then she smiled and nodded.

“They called you, thank you so much for coming, the kids are inside, should I introduce you ?”

Pipa smiled and shook her head and peeked in then with pointed eyebrows raised in question to Amy.

“Go right ahead” Amy laughed again.

For the next 90 minutes Pipa kept the 9 toddlers from Lyndy’s playgroup in stitches. She did magic tricks and sleight of hand, made balloon animals, juggled and played. The adults sat back and watched her captivate the kids and especially Lyndy who Pipa made a point to focus on. The all laughed when Lyndy called her Gamma like she called Lisa and Jack was secretly happy that she wasn’t here to hear it. Lisa was a bit taken aback but as the adults didn’t seems to put two and two together she was secretly thrilled that she couldn’t fool her sweet Lyndy.

While this was all going on Jim Parker had shown up at Fairfield and walked the house with Laura. “Nothing seems to have been taken or even moved.” Laura said.

They checked the offices and the second floor and found nothing. “What’s upstairs ?”

“The attic but it’s locked and you need the code.”

“Have you called Jack or tried Lisa again ?”

“No answer on either but it’s Lyndy’s birthday today, wait a clown, I didn’t think about it but why would it come here ?”

“You know” Jim said “Lock up and I’ll take a ride over to Heartland.”

As Pipa was ending Amy brought out the cake and Pipa stayed to help Lyndy blow out the candles and while they ate cake she slipped into the kitchen to leave. Amy left Lyndy with Ty.

“You were wonderful Pipa, she’ll remember this forever, what do we owe you ?”

Pipe nodded no and then reached into her bag for the big phone and then pulled out a big credit card and pointed.

“Lisa paid, how about a tip ?”

Pipa nodded no and pointed again. “You’ve got one of those too, how about a cab ?”

Pipa nodded no again and pointed to her big watch.

“One is coming, you never speak ?”

Pipa nodded no and then pointed to the porch.

“Of course, you can wait outside.”

Pipa sat on the stoop as Jim Parker pulled up, got out and smiled at the clown on the stoop.

“You are just who I’ve been looking for, can I have your name please ?”

Pipa nodded and reached into her bag and pulled out the big card she showed Amy before with the finger.

“Pipa the Clown, that’s cute, your real name please ? Pipa smiled again and pointed to the card.

“Look, that’s cute but you were seen leaving Fairfield before and I’d like to know why you were there.”

Lou noticed the sheriff’s car and waved to Jack who looked over and then walked out onto the porch.

“Jim, good to see you, problem ?”

“You tell me Jack, can I speak to Lisa ?”

“She’s not here Jim, something up with a client at Fairfield.”

“She’s not at Fairfield Jack, I just checked the grounds, house and offices. Her car’s there but she’s not and Laura saw this clown speed off in a car before.”

It was then that Amy came out with Ty and she put Lyndy on the porch.

“Jim ?” Ty asked.

“Hold off Ty” Jack said.

“Well ?” Jim said looking at the clown “ID maybe ?”

Pipa stuck her hands deep into her pockets and pulled them out bone empty and pouted.

Every body laughed except Jim who smirked but didn’t give in.

“Look, I need to know what’s going on, did you see Lisa Stillman and what were you doing at Fairfield ?” Jim said getting annoyed.

Pipa looked over at Lyndy and held out her hands. Lyndy smiled and ran into them “Gamma cown.”

Lisa looked over at Jim and smiled then pointed at herself over Lyndy’s head just like the big sign.

It was Amy who put two and two together “Lisa, is that you ?”

Pipa turned and pouted then held up the sign.

“You’re Pipa, but when you’re not ?”

Lisa reached back into the same exact pocket she had pulled out and stuffed back and pulled out her phone. A second later she turned it around.

“Lisa ?” Jack asked.

Pipa shrugged and nodded.

“Well I’ll be, so what now ?”

Pipa smiled and mimed rubbing her face and waving goodbye. Then she turned as the Uber driver pulled up. Turned back to the crowd and pointed at her big watch and smiled.

“Go ahead Pipa we’ll see you soon.” Amy said walking over and hugging and kissing her with tears in her eyes. “You are amazing Lisa, just the most perfect grandmother.”

Lisa smiled crookedly trying to hold back a tear and stepped into the Uber.

The party had broken up by the time Lisa returned and everyone gathered in the living room with coffee and cocoa. Lisa pulled out a scrapbook and placed it on the table.

“When I was a teenager my father had interests in the Sarasota Racing circuit in Florida. Sarasota is the home of Ringling Bros. I trained as a clown whenever we went down, after three sessions I performed at an actual Ringling Bros. performance and registered my clown face with the International Clown Egg Registry. I performed with Ringling Bros four times, my father attended each performance. I rode from Sarasota to Raleigh, NC on the actual Ringling Circus train and performed for the first time. I also performed in NYC, Calgary and Antwerp. By then my father was diagnosed and my place was here. I was never serious about it of course but the memories of those faces in the audience are forever etched in my mind and no, no one really knows.”

Amy started turning pages “that’s my first parade, there I am.”

“Where, I don’t see.” Amy said.

“Juggling on the stilts honey, right there.”

“Juggling on stilts ?” Ty exclaimed laughing.

“What else do you do ?” Jack asked.

“Some fire work, juggling, breathing, I’ve never done that live.”

They sat until bedtime looking through the folder and laughing at the pictures. As the evening drew on Jack leaned over and whispered “what do you say Lis, maybe you juggle a little for me later.”

“I’ve got something else in mind for you you old coot.”

The End.

[writingutensilthief]

Balloon Bot

StarLife has a sudden spike in his magical abilities and calls Mendel to discuss the possibilities for why. Based (very loosely) off the prompt “circus”.

Word Count: 1,587

In truth, StarLife wasn’t particularly concerned about this new development. He had always been able to sense life possibilities in objects; this was just the first time his sense was that strong in years, which gave him slight pause. Slight enough that he gave a customary video call to Mendel. Mendel liked keeping track of power differences, and it gave StarLife someone to bounce ideas off. 

Mendel was at his desk when he answered, which StarLife was grateful for. He would have felt awful if Mendel was in the middle of something important.

“Do you have something to report, Jared?” Mendel asked, swiping away the digital files he was working on. He then noticed what his caller was wearing. “Or should I be calling you StarLife currently?”

“Jared is fine professor, I’m just still in my costume from taping.” 

Though he said that, he was clearly still in StarLife mode, as he began literally pulling something from his glittery, orange top hat. Mendel used that pause in StarLife’s train of thought to quickly ask something he had been pondering himself.

“You mentioned that you’d be doing that show the last time you were over. Do you think it would be appropriate for Kylie to watch? Parental sites online say its too mature for her age, but you know how those places can be.”

“I’d say she’s probably fine,” StarLife answered, finally getting a yellow plush rabbit out of his hat. As he spoke the plush began to straighten itself out and grow to nearly human size before finally stopping at StarLife’s neck. “Really, the show censors out anything too dangerous from the places we visit. Most of them you wouldn’t even know were villain lairs until it’s said out loud.”

“That’s good to know.” Mendel went to a file to jot that information down, then turned his attention back to the situation at hand. “Do you have something to report about Yellow Rabbit?”

Yellow Rabbit’s head fell on StarLife’s shoulders at the mention of his name. 

StarLife patted his head. “No, I just like keeping him in the loop.” He then gently pushed the rabbit’s head back upward. “I wanted to show you this. I found her while filming today.” He briefly turned around and then wheeled a small robot in front of the screen. 

Mendel was immediately disturbed at what he was looking at. Her frozen face and stiff pose clashed with the bright reds-and-yellows she was decorated with. His aversion only got worse when StarLife turned it around and Mendel noticed her “hair” was pulled into pigtails. She could easily be mistaken for a small child in a costume at first glance. “You wanted to show me a ... clown robot?”

“A balloon bot.” StarLife grinned and crouched down, pushing the buttons on the bottom of her hands. Holes in her palms opened, and a whirring sound began as balloons slowly came out of each one. Once the pre-attached strings finished worming their way out, the holes clamped close, making it look like she was offering the balloons to Mendel.

StarLife’s smile remained on his face as he moved behind the robot and pressed its temples. “She can do cool tricks with her eyes, too. That also makes her a distraction droid, if you will.”

A light suddenly shot towards the screen, causing Mendel to reflexively jump out of his chair. He regained his composure as the lights died down, quickly realizing that StarLife was right about it merely being a trick. Still, uncomfortable thoughts remained in his head as Mendel sat back down. Why a group of villains had a child-sized robot with faux laser eyes, what they used her for and against who, how many others were there...

He didn’t really want the answers to those questions though, and based on StarLife’s face, Mendel assumed he didn’t even bother asking them. So Mendel opted to push them aside for the time being. “Why show me this specific robot, Jared? You’ve sensed other robots before this one.”

“She’s different,” StarLife insisted, “I could sense her before I even got in the building. It was the strongest I’ve felt my magic in years, like it was guiding me to her. And honestly, now that I’m thinking about it-” He shot a glance towards Yellow Rabbit and then lowered his voice. “-I don’t think I’ve felt my magic this strongly since I first sensed Yellow Rabbit.”

Yellow Rabbit still heard him and slapped his ears against StarLife’s face.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He whined, trying to push away the rabbit ears. “I’m just stating facts!”

“You’ve never reported that strong of an increase in your powers before.” Mendel had already opened up the files he kept on StarLife and started adding a new section. “This is something we need to keep looking into. Tell me in detail about the situation that caused this power surge.”

StarLife did start his story about finding the robot in a back room of the building and being the only one in the filming crew not disturbed by her motionless eyes, but it was clear his attention was on comforting Yellow Rabbit. He understood the rabbit’s concern; this new robot was the closest thing to competition he’s had since StarLife was a child. He let Yellow Rabbit hold onto him in an almost pathetic way, in an attempt to push away any real concerns about their changing relationship. He then finally focused his full attention back onto Mendel.

“I assume you’ve already noticed that this situation has very limited commonalities with your first interaction with Yellow Rabbit,” Mendel sighed, pulling away from how closely he was looking at the files on screen.  “I think it’s possible that the cause is more personal than environmental. Have you been noticing any significant physical changes recently?”

“None that my doctors say aren’t a part of normal aging.”

“So it might be more psychological then.” Mendel mumbled to himself, already coming to his own conclusions.

“Like a mid-life crisis?” StarLife offered, though he knew Mendel wasn’t really listening. He used the pause in conversation as an opportunity to carry Yellow Rabbit to the side of the room and set him up against the wall. “I want you to stay here while I enliven her for the first time once the professor and I are done talking,” StarLife calmly commanded, referring to the robot. “I know you don’t want to see it, but you deserve to stay in the loop.”

Yellow Rabbit nodded its head in defeat, but then closed its eyes in defiance. 

StarLife sighed but let the rabbit be. He returned to the robot and rolled her backwards into the center of the room, then finally noticing Mendel waiting for him to be done.

“Will you accept a superficial explanation for the time being?” Mendel asked.

“Why professor,” StarLife replied with a fake gasp, “I didn’t think men of science thought in such a way.”

Mendel snorted. “Theories have been started based on lesser evidence. I believe that your sudden pull towards this robot may be based on your theming, for a lack of a better word.”

“Theming?”

“Your StarLife alias is based upon classic magicians, isn’t it? Right down to the magic wand and the rabbit you pull out of your hat. It would make sense if you were drawn to a clown-themed robot as well.”  

“Do magicians work with clowns?” StarLife questioned. “I’ve never seen that happen.”

“Sure they do,” Mendel countered. “Have you ever been to a circus?”

“Have you?”

Mendel looked at him for a couple of seconds. “I have eight children. Of course I’ve been to the circus.”

“Right, right.” StarLife looked away embarrassed, and then tried to salvage the situation by mentioning a more legitimate concern he had. “But I wasn’t thinking about the magician theme when I sensed Yellow Rabbit as a kid.”

“But you’ve spent your entire adult life so far thinking about it,” Mendel reminded him. “It’s possible your brain has rewired itself to pay extra attention to those kind of opportunities.”

“Maybe.” StarLife was unconvinced. “Is that the theory you’re working with?” 

“Until I’ve gathered more information, yes. I’ll search through your files to see if I can find any other possible clues, but until then keep me updated if anything else unusual happens with your powers.” Mendel then opened up yet another file. “I’m starting a new file on your clown robot, too. What’s her name?”

StarLife was surprised he had forgotten to mention that detail. “She had a serial number on her back, but it looked scratched out so I couldn’t read it. I’m calling her Balloonie, personally.”

Mendel nodded in confirmation as he typed. “With a Y or an IE?”

“IE.”

“Have you noticed her having any other abilities besides the ones you demonstrated earlier?”

“Not yet, but I’m planning to enliven her soon, so I’ll let you know what she’s like when she’s moving on her own.”

“Keep me informed then,” Mendel agreed, closing out all the files on his screen. “I’ll leave you to your work.” He ended the call in his usual abrupt way, leaving StarLife alone with his two companions.

StarLife looked over at Yellow Rabbit, who was still leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He shook his head and then went over to Balloonie. He crouched down and pressed his hands against her temples. “Come on now, Balloonie,” he whispered as magic streamed from his finger tips, “let’s see what you’re like.”

[pika-ace]

BMC Miraculous Ladybug AU: A Solo Day (Part 1/2)

Part of a two-shot for this AU by me and @janethepegasus

Cyber Shock and Leo King are unstoppable as a team. But alone, things can get a bit hairy. Two-shot. Leo King and Cyber Shock both experience fighting the forces of evil alone, while their partner’s alter ego is the one they need to save.

Part 1: Leo King (aka Jeremy) is on his own when an super villain kidnaps Mr. Williams (aka Cyber Shock). 

The day had been surprisingly easy so far. Eric sat patiently at his desk doing his work, glancing up every now and then to make sure his students were doing their work. Eric glanced down to see Zip in one of his desk drawers, lightly dozing. There hadn’t been any akuma attacks for a while, so the kwami was grateful for a break.

The minutes slowly ticked by, when a noise could be heard from outside. Eric looked towards the windows, and so did a few other students and stood as a figure floated up, a cape flapping behind him. 

The figure raised a hand, pointing something at the window. “Now, a little break and repair trick.” A split second later, the glass shattered. The students all screamed and jumped away while the figure floated into the classroom. The figure then waved his wand at the window and the glass shards on the ground flew back to the window and the window was repaired as if nothing happened. 

The villain smirked down at Eric, “Was that trick good enough for you?” 

Eric’s eyes widened as he recognized the figure. This man was a street magician! Eric had been taking his usual route to school and spotted him doing some tricks. He had watched with only slight interest, when the magician had tried to do a simple vanishing act with a small object. 

However, the trick wasn’t very well done, as the magician was simply throwing the objects away when the audience wasn’t looking. Eric ended up catching one of the items and giving it back, while also commenting that he might want to work on his act a bit more. 

And that was enough to be akumatized over? Well, this wasn’t good.

A super villain on a school day. His wasn’t anything too new, but having the burst into the classroom was definitely a new one. 

Jeremy stayed close to Michael as all the other kids had gotten up from their seat and migrated to the far corner of the classroom as the villain hovered over their teacher. 

“Oh good; my first official act and I have an audience,” The villain said. 

“Who are you?” Mr. Williams demanded. 

“I am Ringmaster, the greatest magician in the world!” The villain said. “Now, for my first act, I need a volunteer...I think you’ll do nicely!” 

Ringmaster waved his wand and five large silver rings flew out of his jacket. The rings flew out and clamped around Mr. William’s body, pinning his arms. Mr. Williams gasped for breath, suddenly feeling the tight squeeze of the rings, like they were trying to force the breath out of him. 

Ringmaster waved his wand and Mr. Williams floated up towards him; Jeremy had to stop himself from running up to him and transforming then and there. “How do you like my levitation trick?” Ringmaster said. “Not so cheap, is it?” 

“Put him down!” Jeremy yelled, feeling Michael grip his arm and shooting him a look. 

Mr. Williams glanced at him but Ringmaster laughed, “Don’t worry; your teacher is my guest of honor, I won’t be hurting him...yet.” He said. “Keep mouthing off like that, and I’ll have to do a new trick; making this classroom disappear!” 

“No!” Mr. Williams yelled as the chairs and other various supplies began flying through the air. The students all screamed and cowered as the objects flew around them. 

“That was just a taste of what I can do,” Ringmaster looked at Mr. Williams. “And now, you’ll have a front row seat for my greatest act yet; the destruction of New Jersey!” 

And with that, the villain threw something onto the ground and smoke filled the room. Once it cleared, both Ringmaster and Mr. Williams were gone. The class quickly erupted into chaos, many running out to spread the word of what had just happened, and 

Jeremy quickly ducked away into the bathroom, his lion kwami flying out of his cardigan. “Guess akuma’s are good for one thing; getting us out of class early!” Leo remarked. 

“And we’re gonna have to use this extra time to save my teacher!” Jeremy held up his wrist. “Leo, Fangs out!” 

The kwami flew into his bracelet and Jeremy was surrounded with an orange light. A few seconds later, Leo King rushed out of the school and jumped to the rooftops. Jeremy sniffed the air and easily picked up on the villain’s scent; now he just had to arrive on the scene, and he and Cyber Shock would take care of this before school was out.

Eric struggled and tried desperately to somehow free himself from the rings binding him, but it was no use. Ringmaster had taken them to the top of a tall building and attached Eric to the middle of the pole at the very top, making the rings around him tighter than they already were. Plus, being up so high and the rings being so tight, breathing was definitely getting difficult for him. 

Zip was behind him, trying to somehow break the rings around him, pulling with all his might. “They’re too tight!” Zip cried. “Eric you have to transform!” 

“You know I can’t, not out in the open like this!” Eric said softly. “It’ll be okay, Leo will be here soon and we’ll have a chance to get out of here.” 

Zip looked at him helplessly, “But-” 

“Just stay out of sight, Zip,” Eric said. 

“Are you sure?” Zip asked.

“Yes, I trust Leo; everything will be fine,” Eric reassured him. Zip finally nodded and flew back into his jacket pocket just as Ringmaster was flying up to face him. 

“Comfortable?” The villain sneered. 

“I could go with a little less air, thanks,” Eric responded smugly. 

“I know your type,” Ringmaster growled. “You think you’re better than everyone else; well now, I have more power than all of mankind! And soon the world will be the audience to the most wonderful magic show of all time!” 

“You know, when I heard a ringmaster was here, I expected to see a circus in town,” A familiar voice said. “Gotta say, I’m disappointed.” 

Eric and Ringmaster looked to see Leo King on the very top of the pole that Eric was attached to. A smile pulled at Eric’s face while Ringmaster frowned, “A wild animal. Lions belong in cages in my acts,” He growled. 

Leo King shrugged, “I’ll pass; don’t you know it’s healthier for wild animals to be free?” He glanced down at Eric, “Speaking of which, this guy has a class full of students waiting and worried for him, so I’ll just take him off your hands.” Leo swung around on the pole, letting himself slide down, and planted a hard kick on Ringmaster’s chest, sending him flying. 

Leo landed and quickly turned to Eric, pulling at the rings holding him. “Man, what’d you do to make an enemy like that?” He asked. 

Eric avoided his gaze, “I suppose he didn’t appreciate it when I exposed one of his tricks,” he said. 

Leo purses his lips and nodded, still pulling at the rings, “Yeah, I guess I could see that, especially with how tight these things are! It feels like they’re welded onto you!” 

Eric looked past him and his eyes widened as Ringmaster was readying to shoot a ring at Leo. “Behind you!” 

Leo turned just in time to knock the silver ring away from him and Eric with his claws. “Hey, no shots to the back!” Leo exclaimed. “That’s the worst way to go!” Leo narrowly knocked away another blast and looked back at Eric, “Just sit tight, kay? I’ll take care of this clown until my partner shows up.” He gave a small salute and leapt towards the villain, Eric watching in fear. 

‘Dammit, your partner is right here, Leo!’ Eric internally growled, trying to struggle again. ‘I’ve got to get out of here, fast!’

“You know, you might want to look into not kidnapping your audience members,” Jeremy snarked as he leapt off the villain’s projectiles. “That would do wonders for your ratings.” 

“You’re a mouthy cat, aren’t you?” Ringmaster growled.

“So I’ve been told,” Jeremy shrugged, while glancing around slightly. Still no Cyber, but this guy wasn’t as hard as he thought he was gonna be. The akuma had to be in his magic wand, and with how much he was waving it around, taking it was gonna be easy.

Luckily for Jeremy, Ringmaster kept shooting projectiles at him, giving him footing to jump towards him despite him floating in the air. Eventually, Jeremy saw his opportunity when a string of colored scarves flew towards him, allowing him to grab on and swing around and behind the villain. 

Jeremy flipped over his shoulders and slipped the wand right out of his hand. “Yoink!” Jeremy flipped back to the top of the building. He snapped the wand in two over his knee and...nothing happened. “Where’s the akuma?” He wondered out loud. 

Ringmaster laughed, “I’m afraid this is only Act One!” He pulled a string of colored scarves out of his sleeve and lashed it towards Jeremy, who narrowly dodged.

Now he was starting to panic; where was the akuma? And where the hell was Cyber? “Cy, wherever you are, I could really use you right now,” He muttered.

Eric watched the battle as he continued to attempt to free himself, though he wasn’t making much progress. The rings were just too tight, not to mention that he kept getting out of breath thanks to being up so high. Leo seemed to be struggling now that he had no clue where the akuma was. Eric was just as surprised as him to see that it wasn’t the wand; it had been his first guess too. 

Eric watched Ringmaster, taking in everything on his person until his eyes fell on his top hat. He hadn’t taken that hat off since he had shown up, except to pull things out of. 

Eric’s eyes widened in realization. “Leo King, the akuma is in his-” 

Eric was suddenly cut off as something hit him, making his head fly back and stop his words. Eric shook his head from the sudden assault and felt pressure on his head. It took him a moment to realize that Ringmaster had thrown another ring at him, snapping itself around his head and over his mouth. 

“You should really learn to keep your mouth shut and not spoil the act!” Ringmaster growled. 

“Now that was just rude,” Leo King chided. And the fight continued.

Jeremy was stumped. If the akuma wasn’t in his wand then where the hell was it? And Cyber was still nowhere in sight! This was getting ridiculous! 

Jeremy grunted as Ringmaster straight up sucker punched him, causing him to fly right against the wall of the building. 

The villain then pinned Jeremy by the neck, “Why don’t we see if this cat can land on his feet?” Ringmaster dragged Jeremy across the wall until he flung him out into the open air. 

“Mmmph!” Eric struggled with all his might as Leo barely managed to catch himself before throwing himself at the villain again. He had to get the hell out of here so he could transform! However, he found his movements were getting slower, and...was his vision fading? 

Eric blinked and shook his head, feeling his chest tightening. He took a deep breath through his nose, but it hardly made a difference; the air was too thin! Not to mention that he could no longer feel his fingertips due to the chill. This wasn’t good; he couldn’t stay up here, he had to get down. 

Eric slumped and his head fell forward as a wave of dizziness hit him, spots dotting his vision. He couldn’t breathe; he didn’t have much time left before he passed out. ‘Leo...hurry…’

“C’mon, Cy, any day now…” Jeremy growled as he knocked Ringmaster away again and latched onto the side of the building. 

This was too weird; Cyber was never this late to a fight! Jeremy was getting worn out and he still hadn’t gotten a chance to break the object with the akuma! They couldn’t keep this up forever. 

Jeremy looked up at Mr. Williams, his eyes honing in on the sight, and it wasn’t pretty. His teacher looked extremely pale, slumping in his bonds while trying desperately to breathe. Having those rings squeeze the life out of him along with the other one covering his mouth wasn’t doing him any favors at this height. Any longer up here and he was probably gonna pass out. 

Jeremy needed to end this now, Cyber or no Cyber. He would just have to think like him. The akuma wasn’t in the wand, so where else could it be? 

Jeremy watched Ringmaster closely as he took off his hat to pull out a brand new wand for him to use. The hat, of course! Jeremy felt stupid for not realizing earlier! Okay, he could do this! 

“Time for this pesky lion to disappear, once and for all!” Ringmaster yelled. 

“Thanks, but no thanks!” Jeremy called. Ringmaster shot more rings at him, but Jeremy leapt off them and all the other projectiles being shot at him. 

After a while, Jeremy leapt into the air and Ringmaster somehow lost sight of him. “What? Impossible, where is he?!”

“Right here!” Ringmaster looked behind him to see Jeremy peeking over his shoulder and Jeremy plucked the hat off his head before jumping back to the side of the building. 

“No!” Ringmaster flew towards him and Jeremy simply moved to the side at the last second, allowing the villain to crash right through the window and crumble to the ground. Jeremy ripped the hat in two and the akuma flew out. 

...Oh shit. Now what?! Cyber was the only one who could purify the akuma! Without him, who knew what could happen! He couldn’t let that akuma get away! 

Not knowing what else to do, Jeremy leapt up and began waving and swatting at the akuma until he forced it back to the roof. He had no idea if this would work, but it was worth a try! 

“Lion’s Roar!” Jeremy took the biggest breath he could muster, and let out a loud roar at the butterfly. The sound waves pinned the akuma against the wall, completely immobile. Jeremy continued to roar, putting in all the energy he had, making the air almost shake. And just when Jeremy was about out of breath, the darkness on the akuma melted away. Jeremy stopped and took deep breaths and looked up at the akuma in shock. 

“Whoa, that worked?” Jeremy exclaimed. Sure enough, the butterfly was pure white once again, and Jeremy looked down to see that Ringmaster’s toys he had left behind were vanishing. 

Meanwhile, in a dark area surrounded by butterflies, a certain winged and masked figure was brooding. 

“You may have won this time, Leo King, even without your partner, but I will have your Miraculous!” He grimaced and rubbed his ear. “God, I hope Cyber is there next time...my ears are still ringing.”

Eric gasped for breath as the rings around his mouth and body vanished and he slid down and off the pole. 

“Careful!” Leo King appeared and slowed his fall before placing him on the roof of the building. Eric’s legs curled under him as he coughed, his lungs desperate for proper air flow and Leo guided him to the ground. 

“I think it’s time we get you back to sea level,” Leo said. “Can you stand?” 

“I...think so,” Eric breathed. 

Leo wrapped his arm around his shoulders, carefully standing him up and they walked to the edge of the building. “Hold on,” Leo got Eric on his back and managed to scale the building quite gently. 

A few people cheered as they flew through the air, and the next thing Eric knew, they were on the balcony of his apartment. Leo entered the apartment and set Eric down in a chair. Seeing that he was shivering, Leo disappeared and came back with a blanket which he promptly draped around Eric’s shoulders. Eric gripped the blanket, grateful for the warmth and looked wearily up at Leo. 

“Okay, you just stay put and stay warm,” The young hero said. “Don’t push yourself.”

Eric nodded when he heard a beeping noise. “Leo King, your bracelet.” 

Leo blinked and looked at his bracelet seeing that he was down to one paw pad. “Yikes; well, this was fun, but maybe let’s not do it again, get better, see ya!” Leo said before quickly running back towards the balcony. 

“Leo King,” Eric called, making him stop. “Thank you.” 

Leo smiled, “No problem.” He gave a small salute and vanished. 

Eric sighed in relief, deflating in his chair as Zip appeared before him. “Thank goodness Leo was able to stop Ringmaster,” The kwami said. 

Eric hummed and looked out at the balcony, “That kid keeps surprising me every day.”

The next night, Leo beamed as Cyber Shock joined him on the roof for their weekly patrol. “Look who’s back!” He greeted. “You think maybe you could call next time you can’t make it to a fight? I’m sure you had your reasons, but a warning would have been nice.” 

“Yes, I...apologize for not showing up,” Cyber said. “The damage from Ringmaster was very immense where I was, so I wasn’t able to transform.” 

Leo waved his hand, “Eh, don’t worry about it; all that matters is that I was able to get that akuma without you for once.” 

“I am convinced that that was a fluke and it won’t happen again,” Cyber remarked. “Don’t get too full of yourself.” 

“You’re just jealous that you missed all the action,” Leo remarked as they began jumping from roof to roof. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“C’mon Cy, you can tell me!” 

“You’re going to slip if you keep running your mouth like that while you run.”

“Oh c’mon, I’m the king of the jungle, I’m much more nim-ah!” 

“What did I tell you?” 

“Shut up…”

[cosmosfated]

Summary: Set in the early third millennia/20th century. A dastardly magician known as Kairos shows up to Mr. Gilmore’s Magic Hour Circus for a show, a good time, and perhaps a few tips from the proprietor of the circus on how he makes his coin on the day to day. He meets a strange child on his walkabout throughout the circus. Maybe it’s fate? He doesn’t like that thought.

Word Count: 905

────

If boots could click against dirt and gravel, the space would echo with the resounding mark of something wicked this way coming. Heels dig into the dirt just enough to leave an imprint in the ground, and then there’s the companion for the one walking; a seven and a half foot tall grey wolfdog with orange stripe markings leaving its own impressions in the dirt. A hand is placed on the side of the wolfdog and then there’s a slow, patient smile. There should be something interesting waiting for them in this sleepy trade city of this universe, or they’d just move on to the next, in search of what they’re looking for.

Almost reflexively, his free hand whips out with his cane to trap a flyer to the ground as it whistles by on the air. His other hand makes an arcane gesture in the air and the flyer moves from beneath his cane on the ground to in his hand within the blink of an eye, and he reads in an almost that fast of a gesture.

“Mr. Gilmore’s Magic Hour Circus....” He smirks, looking to his companion as he starts to walk, feathered shrug trailing down into a translucent black cape. “sounds like we have a circus to go entertain ourselves with.”

And entertain themselves they did. With jugglers and clowns and illusions that bordered on magic and magic that bordered on illusions. Hell, there was even rabbit in a hat. Old tricks, new shows, and new faces. But that’s not what he’s here for. He’s here for something new, something fresh, something unique. This, is not that. This is old hat. This is dealing old cards that have been bedazzled and charmed to look new and fresh but in reality they’re just frayed and falling apart at the seams.

Sure, some people like that, but not him. He’s always looking for the next big show.

Kairos pats his companion on the side of his muzzle, giving it a small kiss, telling the wolfdog to entertain and keep the locals and circus attendees distracted for him. He calmly uses a spell to allow the light to blend his steps further into the limelight and conceal him a little better as if he were walking on air, rather than on dirt or gravel, and he walks around the circus backstage mostly unhindered. His outfit makes him seem like he belongs there thankfully ─ a sparkly magenta vest over a beige pirate’s blouse and magenta tights with sparkly black lace up knee high boots with golden filigree around the bottom and a feathered shrug that has a translucent black trail down to the floor. He looks like he could own the circus, rather than be a part of it, he thinks. He looks like the  KING  he is. 

He smiles and dances and twirls he way through the backstage and eventually finds his way into the area that he knows he shouldn’t be in. Ohh, how delightful. This would be a grand spectacle for all to see. He runs his claws along the costumes and stage accoutrements and smiles. Seeing the acts for what they are. Strange though, for everything that’s presented on stage, there’s not a lot here. It seems so barren, so lifeless. It’s as if everything on stage is... real.

“Uh... excuse me?”

Snarl. His lip curls back to reveal a part of his rows of sharp teeth.

“What are you doing back here?”

Kairos dusts off the front of his feathered shrug and holds it tightly closed, turning to face the child’s voice that awaits him. “i’m merely going through the next act’s worth of makeup. i seem to have misplaced my own.” If he’s going to go through the whole charade of being a part of this messed up circus, then he’ll do what he must. 

There’s a pause. This child seems to examine him in a once-over thoroughly, not escaping any detail in this glance over his appearance. “Are you a new performer? Mr. Gilmore didn’t tell me we were getting a new performer.”

“i’m... a new prospect. no one has heard of me yet because mr. gilmore hasn’t met me yet. i was just exploring before i met him so that i could wow him with my expertise on the circus. you know how it is, new people and wanting to entertain the higher ups.” He waves his hand dismissively. If he gets kicked out, he gets kicked out. He has his information, he can leave.

The child lights up. “Then let’s go see Mr. Gilmore!” They reach out to take his arm and immediately are met with an abrupt snatch back of his arm, gripping his cane tightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Snarl. Kids these days.

His phone chimes a familiar chime. Static and a hum. 

Dad.

He calms down.

...

“we go at my own pace.”

“Okay!”

“and we’re stopping to get my dog.”

“Where’s your dog? Hopefully they didn’t run off.”

“... he didn’t. he’s a trained guard and therapy dog. he stays where i tell him.” Kairos sighs. What has he gotten himself into? “let’s just go already.”

The child grins. “I’m Wren by the way. What’s your name?”

He does a slow blink down at the child as they both walk towards the crowd surrounding the wolfdog doing tricks. “... you’ll know my name when you’ve earned it.”

[talesmaniac89]

Changed Traditions

Summary: Dean with daughter fic - Dean deals with the first halloween alone, taking care of the reader and his daughter.

Triggers: Past reader death (no details), angst, worry

Word Count: 2396

Y/N = Your name ¦ Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour

---

The little girl was humming along to the end screen and jumping up and down in her seat as the screen once more already faded to black. Though she didn’t really see it, no, she was already scrambling to turn in her seat to turn those big green puppy dog eyes up at the two hunters in the room, who were reading what to the child looked like boring books over by the big table.

 “Daddy! Unca Sam! Is over again!” She called out in a sing song voice, bouncing up and down in the big chair that nearly completely hid her from view to get the Winchester brothers’ attention. “Moooore!”

 “Ok princess, daddy’s coming,” Dean Winchester said with a smile and a laugh before pushing his chair away from the mahogany table in the bunker to go help his little girl. Her bright eyes that looked just like her dad’s shining as she let out a happy squeal and quickly twisted and flopped back down to watch the now dark screen. “What do you wanna watch next?”

 “Same one!” She chirped, repeating words Dean had heard several times the last few days. The little girl’s (Y/H/C) hair whipped around her face as she laughed at the groan that came from both Winchester brothers at her demand. Ever since they went to the shop and she saw the Halloween decorations she had demanded watching the same movie over and over. And nothing they tempted her with made her change her mind.

Honestly, Dean couldn’t understand her fascination with the one hour long Disney special. He remembered Sammy being afraid of the show when he was her age, yet the little girl loved it. Maybe it was because you loved it too. Or… You had. The thought wiped the smile off of Dean’s features as he bent down and restarted the remastered version of the old classic Disney’s Halloween Treat dvd. His little girl however, didn’t seem to notice her father’s change in mood as she started singing along to the opening song, mumbling the words she still weren’t sure about and shouting the ones she were sure of.

“Call... ONE ‘n all tonight!... Is Disney’s Hallo’een treeeeet!” Her little happy voice soothing Dean’s heart as he turned and smiled at his little girl, ruffling her hair as he sank to his knees by her chair. Chuckling to himself as she jumped up and down in her PJs and sang happily along to the old fashioned tune. She was clearly her mother’s daughter with her love of the season.

 “Aren’t you bored of this yet?” Dean asked the candy apple of his eye as she finally stopped singing to laugh along with her father as if they were sharing some secret joke.

 “No! Is Hallo’een!” She said, smile bright and free of worries as she made her exclamation. To the little child the month of October was magic. To her the monsters only stayed in cartoonish form on the TV, sheltered from the life the two brothers had been living since Dean was her age. So unlike the two of them, she only saw the season of monsters as an excuse to eat enough sweets to make a dentist faint, and to play around and decorate together with her mother.

 At least that was how it had been until… This year you were no longer there to watch the movie with your daughter. The only two girls in Dean’s life had always watched that movie, every day for a week up to Halloween. Decorating the bunker and making spooky treats together to enjoy as you watched the movie and sang along.

 This year had almost passed by without it. Without you in the bunker… Halloween, your favourite holiday, had almost passed by unnoticed. Dean’s little daughter hadn’t even known about it until they’d gone shopping together. Her big eyes turning even bigger as she’d pulled at Dean’s sleeve and pointed out the cheerful pumpkins in the shop display as she reminded her dad of the season that almost had silently gone by without any spooky celebration or happy songs.

 You were always the one to decorate and go trick or treating. You would help your little angel draw up bats and ghosts to hang around the bunker. Always humming songs from your favourite seasonal movie together and filling the now deafeningly quiet bunker with song and laughter.

 “Yeah cupcake. It is Halloween,” Dean chuckled, burying his own melancholy as to not worry the small child. Opting instead to stroke her cheek as the little princess graced hi with a warm, true smile. “It’s your favourite isn’t it?” He added as he stood up watching her nod vigorously, ready to return to the research he had been working on with Sam when his little girl’s voice turned his attention back to her.

 “Daddy?” Her tiny voice sounded hesitant as worried, making Dean automatically tense in shared worry. Did she have a tummy ache? Maybe she was coming down with a fever? It had been getting cold.

 “Yes sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned back towards his world and watched her carefully to see if he could identify what was wrong. But she looked perfectly healthy. He just couldn’t help worrying. Her and Sam, they were all he had left.

 “No... Trick or treat this year? Or cos’ume?” She looked slightly worried, and he could see the hints of a pout forming as her tiny forehead creased up. He had completely forgotten to get her a costume. You always used to take care of that… Damn it… Dean was trying so hard, but he kept forgetting the little things.

 “Of course sweetheart! Of course we can go trick or treating,” Dean kept his voice soft and reassuring as he rested a big hand on her small head, stroking her hair out of her eyes. He would have to see where he could get a costume… Halloween night was the next day.

 Most places would be sold out of the best ones and she had grown a lot in a year. There was no way she’d fit into the costume from the year before. Plus, poor Sammy probably wouldn’t be able to handle another year with a tiny clown running around. Though you had found hilarious. Yet before he could offer that they would go out the next day and find something, the small, sheltered Winchester princess spoke up again with a question Dean hadn’t been prepared for.

 “Will you make my cos’ume then daddy?” She asked, eyes bright and hopeful as she pushed herself up in the chair until her knees were up under her. You used to always create the costumes. Dean however was no master with the needle and thread. Still, he knew that making the costume together with mommy had been his little spoiled princess favourite part of Halloween. She would draw it out with crayons on paper and they would make it together. It wouldn’t be perfect. But she would love it, and you would…

 “Princess… Maybe we should buy one this time?” Dean said, clearing his throat to keep it from wavering as he put on a brave smile for the little girl. Of course she would expect a homemade costume. Hell, you’d made her costumes from the first Halloween when she was only a few months old. Sure, the seams might have been a bit crooked, but they’d looked awesome in Dean’s eyes. Dean doubted he could even make two pieces of cloth stick together.

 “Nooo daddy,” The pouty princess whined, throwing her best puppy dog eyes over at her dad and pretty much giving him no choice but to agree. The small child had, had him wrapped around her tiny little finger since the day she was born. Once those big green eyes looked up at him, he was pretty much powerless. “With ‘Unca Sam?” The littlest Winchester added, throwing the puppy dog look over at Sam who seemed just as lost as Dean.

 “Daddy will think of something princess… I can get your crayons after… But for now you’re missing your favourite,” Dean said, giving in and turning to shrug at his younger brother who looked slightly freaked out at the idea of acting like the fairy godmother to the little kid. But hell, if he was gonna make a costume he would need backup, and Sammy always had his back. And the happy little squeal that followed her words made it worth whatever mess the two Winchester brothers would have to go through to make her dreams come true

 “Thank you daddy!” She sing-songed before twisting back into her seat to be fully enraptured by the movie once more.

 ---  

 “What am I gonna do Sammy?” Dean asked his brother after finally tucking the tiny girl into bed. Falling back into the chair he’d left to help her brush her teeth he shut his eyes with a sigh, still holding the childish crayon drawing his little girl had given him of the witch costume she wanted. His hand shook as he tried to keep his voice low to not wake the small girl just down the hall. “(Y/N) was the one that was good at this… I just… I’m no good without her,”

 For a second only the light rustling of the paper in his hand filled the library as Dean locked his jaw in an effort of keeping the pain inside. You had been his better half. You always knew the right thing to do or say when it came to your child.

 “I don’t know if I can… It’s just so hard to go on like this, without her,” Dean said, breaking the silence as his voice finally cracked over the words and he forced his eyes open before he sank too far down into the darkness to pull himself back out. The childish smiling face of the witch drawn on the paper the first thing greeting him as he felt unshed tears burn his eyes.

 “Hey, Dean… Don’t say that. There’s a little girl down the hall that needs her daddy,” Sam said, his expression serious and slightly hurt, though his tone stayed soft and low. Sam was right… Dean wasn’t the only one who had lost you. Your daughter, and Sam, your best friend, was hurting too. He had to protect the two of them. And he could do that. He could act like a shield, but…

 “I know… But I can’t sew, or even remember to decorate for Halloween. I haven’t been baking cookies with her or…” Dean sighed letting his words die out as the list grew of the things you used to do with your little hyper girl. Dean hadn’t been ignoring her, no he had been spending most of his time with her. Playing and teaching her how to read. But, he couldn’t be both you and himself.

 “You’ve been doing great Dean. And I’m here to help. Come on… You know what (Y/N) would say if she heard you,” Sam said, lightly tugging the drawing out of Dean’s hands before he wrinkled the page between his shaking hands. A small sad smile on Sammy’s lips telling Dean that both Winchester brothers were thinking the exact same thing.

 “She wouldn’t say nothing… She’d just kick my ass,” He supplied with a small broken laugh. He could almost see you, hands folded over your waist and one hip popped as you glared at him. Telling him to get his act together or “so help me God”… You used to be the one keeping him on the straight and narrow, making his days bright. Now it was the child you left behind that brightened his dark days.

 “Exactly,” “You can do this… We can do this,” Sam said, his hand patting the older Winchester’s shoulder before refocusing on the childish drawing of a witch. The determination in his voice making Dean believe that the two of them could handle it together. After all, they’d saved the world from ruin several times. Making a costume for a kid would be a walk in the park.

 “But… Where do we start?” Dean asked, looking from his younger brother who had helped him every step of the way since your death to the drawing Sam now held in his hands. Focusing all his attention on it he sighed. That clearly wouldn’t help. It wasn’t as if numbers and instructions would magically appear just because he looked at it hard enough.

 “I guess we need to uhm… Cut it into shapes?” Sam said, turning the drawing around in his big hands. “And then sew it together?” The younger Winchester’s words all sounded like uncertain questions however. The earlier bravado gone now that Dean had pulled himself out of his brief recess in the darkened parts of his broken heart.

“Have you ever sewn anything?” Dean sighed, at least he knew where your sewing kit was. But hell if he knew how to actually sew together a costume. He’d only done basic fixes when he was younger and something of Sammy’s needed a quick stitch to be good as new again.

“Other than cuts and wounds? Never…” Sam sighed his brow furrowed as he followed the lines of the tiniest member of the Men of Letter bunker’s drawing. Though just as his hand reached the hat, the bright light returned to the young hunter’s eyes and Dean swore he could actually see the light come on in a lightbulb above his head. “Hey… Maybe we can reuse something? Start with a big black t-shirt for the dress?” Sam asked grinning.

 Yeah… That could work. Damn, that was why Dean couldn’t help being proud of his baby brother. The kid was smart and could think outside of the box. And Dean had just the t-shirt they could use.

 “You’re a genius Sammy! I have a completely black t-shirt, and if we take something orange too and tear it up in strips…” Dean said replacing his brother’s hand on the drawing as he followed the lines whilst he spoke. And so the two hunters sat down to work through the night. Determined to make a little girl’s happy Halloween come true.

Even though their small family was slightly smaller than it had been just one year earlier.

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