#he wears his things to death and actually only had like 1 change of clothes for a good while until other characters noticed

[boyheros]

See i draw a lot of my characters in jackets because I'm fond of jackets but I've been trying to at least design distinct hot/cold weather fits for them but Maverick is giving me SO much trouble. the others I have a vague sense of style for y'know but Maverick. He was born in that red & green jacket and he will DIE in that jacket ‼️ I don't know what else to put him in truthfully

[ssinnerplazahotel]

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*Chapter Thirteen*

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WC: 6k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, death threat, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

You woke with a start the next morning—not even realizing that you’d fallen asleep at some point throughout the night. You checked the time—Liz would be there by now.

“You’re awake,” Andrea said, appearing from the bathroom. “I thought I’d let you sleep. Since you never do.”

“I’m supposed to be dressed by now,” You said. “Liz is probably waiting for me.”

“You aren’t scheduled to be anywhere, are you?”

“No, why?”

“Why don’t you skip Liz today? I can give you something to wear.”

You didn’t even consider it. “I can’t.”

She tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because…” You knew it’d only piss her off to know the reason. “I like the clothes Liz chooses.”

She shrugged. “You should head over then. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because, he might not yell at me if you’re there.”

She rolled her eyes, but agreed to go. “He can yell. I want him to actually. Because if I have to deal with him~”

“You won’t have to. I don’t want you to fight him all the time, Andrea.”

“I do it because you won’t.”

“I know, but I can’t protect you. So I’d like it if you didn’t give me a reason to.”

“Do you think I need you to protect me?”

“No, of course not. Just don’t pick a fight.”

When you got to the bedroom Elvis was there with Liz and Serena. Aside from a brief glance, he didn’t acknowledge you when you walked in. You could always tell when he was on the brink of losing his shit.

“I’m so sorry, Liz,” You said immediately. “I had no idea what time it was.”

“It’s okay,” She said. “We already got everything ready for you.”

“This is gorgeous,” Andrea complimented as she looked at the dress laid out on the bed. “With the headband especially.”

“Oh, I wanted to let you know that the things you sent to the cleaners won’t be back until Monday,” Serena started as Andrea and Liz talked about your outfit. Liz spoke to Andrea more comfortably, you noticed. “I tried to get it back sooner but it’s been so busy because of the holidays.”

“It’s okay,” You reassured her. “I won’t even miss them.”

“Where’d you find the shoes?”

“Uhm, they were actually a wedding gift~”

Elvis stood from the edge of the bed suddenly, effectively ending every conversation happening in the room. “Liz, go show Andrea that thing you wanted to show her. You too, Serena.”

You met Andrea’s eyes—she gave you a look that said she’d stay if you wanted. You shook your head.

“Go ahead,” Elvis encouraged, walking over to open the door. “Shouldn’t take but five minutes. Come back when you’re done.”

Liz nodded and led the way out of the room, Serena following silently behind. Andrea stayed in place, crossing her arms with her eyes set on Elvis. You tried to motion for her to go but she wouldn’t look out at you.

“Andrea,” Elvis sighed.

He was too close to his breaking point and you didn’t want Andrea to be the recipient of his rage.

“Drea, it’s fine.” You stepped forward.

“I’m not leaving her alone with you,” She said directly to Elvis. “Can’t you see that she’s afraid of you?”

“N-No, no,” You said quickly, stepping between them. “Please don’t~”

Elvis snapped. “I’m so fucking sick of you acting like you know her any better than I do~”

“I wouldn’t have to know her at all to see that she’s terrified of you,” Andrea said with an equal amount of anger and distaste behind her words as she stepped towards him. “You’re a control freak.”

“If she’s so terrified, she can leave and take you with her.”

“As if you’d ever let her go.”

“She wouldn’t, Andrea, that’s the thing~”

“Do you see what I mean? You’re a fanatic.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t hunt you down for weeks, that’s the kind of friend you are.”

“At least I treat her like a fully functioning adult. The way you run her, I can’t tell if you want a wife or pet.”

“What did your ex-husband want? It wasn’t you—that’s what we all know.”

“You trap one little girl and you think you know how to get and keep a woman?”

“I don’t have to trap anyone, she can fucking leave!”

You were frozen as their screaming match intensified with every dig. Elvis stepped forward until your hands pressed against his chest and the two of them were face to face. You had to force yourself to speak.

“Stop,” You said, too breathlessly and quiet at first. You had to shout over them. “Stop it!”

They fell silent and looked at you, both fuming as you stopped them from taking things too far.

“You’re gonna let her talk to me like that?” Elvis asked, forcing you into a position you never wanted to be in.

“Andrea,” You said, walking to the door. “Can you, please…?”

She heaved a sigh and walked out of the door but stopped short and gave you one last questioning glance. You nodded reassuringly despite the fact that you were so on edge that you could have thrown up.

You shut the door behind her and faced him, he had his arms crossed. You expected him to immediately snap and dig into you, but instead he asked—

“What the hell are you wearing?”

You looked down at the pajama pants and mismatched shirt you had fallen asleep in.

“Andrea gave them to me…”

His expression was furious but you could somehow still see the traces of a distasteful frown. He eyed you silently, watching you squirm in anticipation.

“You look fucking ridiculous.”

He could’ve thrown you across the room and it would’ve hurt less—been less humiliating.

He looked away as if he couldn’t stand the sight of you. “Get dressed before Liz gets back.”

You stood there for a moment before walking over to the dress laid out on the bed. You picked it up to take to the bathroom but he stopped you.

“We’re not done yet.”

You felt ashamed and embarrassed of yourself—you wanted to disappear as he watched you strip.

“Where the hell did you go last night?” He continued. “I sent Red all around the world lookin for you and he said you weren’t with Andrea.”

“I was with Andrea~”

“Do not lie to me right now~”

“I swear.”

“Then why weren’t you there?”

“I was, s-she…lied. I-I don’t know why. It was a joke. I told her~ I said that it wasn’t funny.”

“But you didn’t come to me when I asked you to?”

“I-I just…”

“You just…let her make up your mind for you like a little girl? You just go along with whatever she says? Because you just…can’t make your own decisions?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Tell me what it is. I mean, you act just about dumb as hell when it comes to Andrea, it has to be something.”

“What is your problem?” You didn’t wait for him to answer as you stormed into the bathroom to finish putting your clothes on.

“My problem is that I at least expected you to be in place this morning. Instead you come galavanting in here with Andrea like you didn’t disappear all night.” He followed you.

“I don’t understand why you’re blowing this so out of proportion.”

“Because you need to be reminded of your place. It’s here, with me, when I tell you to be.”

“Go to hell, Elvis.”

“Hey,” He barked, fuming as he caught your arm and made you face him. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“And you don’t get to treat me like some useless accessory you get to stick your dick in whenever you want to.” You snatched your arm away. “I mean, for the love of god. Calling me dumb and demanding my respect?”

“Do not talk to me like that.” His stern eyes bore into you even after you looked away. “You will lose, every time, I promise.”

There was a knock on the door—it was Liz.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” Elvis said before going to get the door. You tried to put on a neutral expression as Liz and Serena entered the room. “She’s all ready for you.”

You smiled—it was forced but you didn’t think they noticed. He returned when your transformation was complete.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Mr. Presley?” Serena, who had also just returned after slipping out somewhere along the way, asked as Liz finished your hair.

Elvis slipped his arm around Serena’s shoulder and kissed her cheek before continuing. You usually wouldn’t think much of it—but seeing how her hand lingered on his, you couldn’t help but wonder. After the thought crossed your mind it was all you could think about. After they had left the room you couldn’t help yourself, you had to know.

“You’re fucking Serena.”

He fell silent, you were shocked by how stunned he seemed by your knowledge of his situation with your “assistant”—or whatever title he’d given her. His reaction stirred something inside of you. You were angry, and hurt, but you were right. For once, you were right and he couldn’t even process your words fast enough to deny it.

“What?” You asked. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Shut up.” His voice was low and unnerving, but you continued.

“People notice you, Elvis. They watch every little thing you do. When are you going to realize that?”

“I’m telling you right now, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised, you’ve always been that way. You’re a liar and you’re a cheater~”

“Shut up!” He was yelling now but his voice was muffled by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. “Do you really think you have any right to question me or anything I do? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“I never asked for any of this, Elvis. I’m here for you!”

“This is me,” He shouted, gesturing grandly with his arms. With each step he took forward, you stepped back until the back of your legs touched the bed—forcing you to sit as he towered over you. “To hear you so much as utter a complaint after everything I’ve risked for us, everything I’m sacrificing—it’s fucking ludicrous.”

You fell silent for a moment, too frightened to speak. “You said that it would be different this time—no more bullshit, remember? No more fighting, that’s what you said out of your mouth~”

“Whose fault is it that we’re fighting, huh?”

You kept your eyes trained on him but you didn’t speak—you only glared silently.

“You have two options,” He said. “You can either get your shit together, go downstairs with Andrea, and keep your mouth shut so we can enjoy the party. Or you can stay here, out of my sight, for the rest of the night. Pick one. Now or I’ll decide for you.”

You stood and forced past him to the bathroom. You made sure your makeup wasn’t ruined before leaving. As you made to walk past him and out of the door he grabbed your arm, forcing your hand into his.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of my family, they already think I’m insane,” He said, and then you were leaving. The commotion from downstairs could be heard clear as day from the top of the stairs. “You just stick with Andrea tonight. No one here’s gonna bother you, I told them not to.”

You kept your lips pressed firmly together as you met Andrea at the bottom of the stairs. All eyes were on the two of you when you entered the room—you hoped the forced smile on your face was fooling the crowd.

Andrea didn’t acknowledge Elvis but she forced a smile all the same. “Are you okay?”

“Keep an eye on her,” He said, handing you off. “She’s in a mood.”

You forced yourself not to pull away when he kissed your cheek—smiling as he tapped your chin and walked away.

“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked when he was gone. “What’d he do?”

“Did they give them to you?”

“Yeah.”

You took the envelope and turned to go into the kitchen. Andrea followed, keeping as little space between you as possible in the crowded house. You saw Elvis, the center of attention as always, being surrounded by people. They were mostly women, and you wanted to feel something when you saw the way they pawed at him and hung off his every word.

But you felt nothing.

You tried to stay in the least populated areas of the house but everywhere you went there was someone.

“I love your scarf,” A woman with long false lashes said to you. “Where’d you get it?”

You knew she was speaking to you but you didn’t respond. You kept your mouth shut.

“You can find one just like it at that boutique downtown,” Andrea spoke up, filling the awkwardness in the wake of your silence. “You know the one with the red mannequins in the window?”

They spoke for a few minutes before the woman finally walked away.

“Happy holidays. It was nice to meet you,” She said, you knew it wasn’t true but you offered a small smile as she left.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“Why’d you ignore her?”

You avoided her eyes. “Did I ignore her?

Andrea scoffed, stunned. “Yeah, kind of. What? Did he not give you permission to speak tonight?”

Your expression must’ve said what you were hoping Andrea wouldn’t assume.

“Really?”

“It’s not like that.”

She struggled for a moment to grasp what you were saying. “Did he tell you not to speak to these people?”

“Andrea,” You said, forcing a laugh. “It’s fine. Let’s just enjoy the party.”

“Did he?”

“They aren’t supposed to speak to me either.”

Your words had the opposite effect of what you intended and she looked even more bewildered.

“Not now,” You said before she could say anything else. “Let’s hang out down here for a while then we can go upstairs and do something else.”

“We need to talk. Now.”

“Please, can’t we just~”

“Now.”

You shook your head. “I told him I’d be downstairs with you. I want to be with you.”

She followed your gaze to where Elvis was. “I don’t think he’ll notice you’re gone.”

You almost laughed at that. “He’ll notice.”

Andrea’s expression was disbelieving but she didn’t continue to pressure you. You sat at the dining table with her well into the night—until Serena found you and told you that Elvis wanted you to turn in for the night.

“Thanks, Serena,” You said, standing. “He wasn’t screwing you when he said it, was he?”

You didn’t have time to take in her expression but you imagined that she was shocked as you walked away.

“M-Mrs. Presley, I’m so sorry.” She crumbled fast. “It was a-a mistake. I told him~ i-it was a one-time thing. I-I swear.”

You stopped and faced her, trying to calm her down before anyone noticed. You forced a reassuring smile. “God, don’t make a scene in front of all these people.”

“Please don’t fire me.”

“I can’t fire you. You don’t work for me.”

She looked devastatingly guilty, you didn’t care. Andrea followed you when you walked away, eyeing Serena judgmentally.

All you wanted to do was go to bed when you got upstairs, however, Andrea quickly reminded you that you had unfinished business to tend to.

“I guess he did it,” She said as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. “He finally shrunk you down to size.”

You didn’t respond. You sat down on the edge of the bed to remove your shoes. You wanted to say something but you couldn’t. Your throat felt like it was constricting, trapping all the words inside.

“He made you show up tonight in a room full of people he told to ignore you,” She continued. “He told you not to speak to anyone and you actually did it. I mean, god, you actually did it. What kind of program is he running on you? It’s like he changes your batteries every thirty days.”

“Please stop.”

“It must be all the pills he funnels down your throat.” You couldn’t take it anymore but she didn’t relent. “That’s why he does it. To keep you pliant and easy to control. Then he keeps you trapped here like a caged animal. If you were in your right mind for more than a few days at a time you might be able to see how fucked all of this is!”

You screamed in frustration. Not necessarily at Andrea, more outwardly.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked, startled.

“What do you want me to do?” You sobbed.

She sighed reluctantly and hugged you as you cried. “You’re out of your mind.”

You wanted to argue and say that it wasn’t true—you weren’t out of your mind, not completely.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Andrea said. “You can love him and be your own person at the same time. You shouldn’t need his permission to…exist.”

“It’s my fault,” You said. “I chose this. I deserve it.”

“All you’re good for is throwing pity parties.” She sighed, sitting beside you. “When are you going to stop punishing yourself and start living with your decision?”

“You don’t think I’m living with it?”

“I don’t think you’re living at all. You’re going through the motions and drowning everything out.”

You shook your head in denial but your voice was caught in your throat again.

“I can’t stand to see you living like this.”

The hurt you felt suddenly morphed into anger. You wanted to cry even more now, but you clenched your teeth and held back your tears. You felt bad enough without her looking in and speculating about how sad your life must be.

“Andrea, please,” You said. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t?” She asked. “I’ve been by your side for this long. Have I somehow misinterpreted what I’ve been seeing?”

“I don’t know, have you?” You countered. She released a stunned scoff, staring at you in disbelief. You raised your eyebrow in question, waiting a moment for her to continue. “It’s a simple question.”

She directed her gaze downward. “I’m worried about you. That’s the only reason I’m saying anything.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m happy.” You didn’t notice the evident catch in your voice. “I’m taken care of and I’m loved. I have everything I want. I have you.”

She met your eyes again, her expression was troubled.

“I know you’re worked up about the party but…Elvis does that kind of thing all the time,” You continued. “He thinks he’s protecting me. He doesn’t mean any harm.”

You couldn’t tell if she was believing anything you were saying. She still had that expression on her face—she was so concerned. You sighed when she didn’t respond, glancing off for a moment.

“I think you should go~”

“Don’t make me leave~”

“I have to,” You said. “Just take a few days~ o-or however long you need. Maybe it’s all too much t-too soon. You just need to get away from me…from us.”

She stood with you and let you take her to the door as you spoke.

“If you spend some time away and your feelings don’t change then…maybe you just shouldn’t come around anymore.”

“What?”

“I don’t know…” You opened the bedroom door.

She had tears in her eyes and you fought to hold back your own. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. All I ever wanted was for you to be here for me and to support me. Because I need someone like you in my life.”

“Someone like me?”

“A friend, Andrea. I need a friend.”

She batted away her tears as they fell. You stepped towards her.

“If you can’t be my friend,” You started. “If he makes that too difficult, then you have to go.”

There was a beat of silence before she attempted to dry the last of her tears and left the room. You stood there for a moment. You weren’t shocked, but you had hoped she would have stayed.

You were lying awake, alone in bed when the door crept open. You had no idea what time it was as you stared blankly into the darkness of the room.

“Birdie?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s Andrea?”

“She had to go.”

You felt the bed dip and turned blindly into his arms. You were glad that he couldn’t see your tear ridden face in the dark.

“Why’re you crying?”

“Because she left.”

He tried to comfort you but it felt like he didn’t care. “I’m here.”

“You aren’t going to leave me?”

“Why would I leave you?”

You closed your eyes. “Sometimes, E…it feels like I love you so much and you don’t care about me at all.”

“Everything I do is for you.”

“I know, but still.”

He sighed, tracing patterns into the small of your back. “You’re my heart.”

“Then how could you sleep with Serena?”

“That wasn’t love with Serena.”

“Did you think about how I’d feel?”

“No, because it had nothing to do with you or how I feel about you.”

You didn’t understand.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” He said. “You’re my girl. You’re the only girl that has that privilege.”

“So that means you get to go around doing whoever you want?”

“It’s not like that, baby.”

“Then what’s it like?”

He fell silent. You wish you could have seen his expression.

“All I’m saying is…if you’re going to have extracurricular activities I want some liberties of my own.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I want a car and I want to go wherever I want.”

“Ray can take you anywhere~”

“I want to take myself.”

“That’s unreasonable.”

You turned over so that your back was to him. He kissed your shoulder, still holding you.

“What do you think is going to happen?” You asked.

“You’ll run away.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’ve done it before.”

You fell silent—he was right. “I came back.”

He laughed. “Yeah, after I fucked some sense into you.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Maybe I should just knock you up, make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

“I married you. Is that not enough?”

“Nothing will ever be enough. I love you.” His voice was a whisper now. “You’re the only girl I love.”

“Liar.”

“I’ll prove it.”

*

You didn’t hear from Andrea again for a few days. When you did see her, she was downstairs talking on the phone in the kitchen. Upon first sight, you were relieved that she had come back. But she didn’t speak to you directly when you approached her.

“Here she is,” She said, handing the receiver off to you before walking away.

You watched her go in confusion, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hi, Joel.”

“How are you?”

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” He said. “I was just talking to Andrea~”

“Since when do you and Andrea talk?” You asked.

“Only the past few days really.”

“Why?”

“She’s been worried about you.”

“She has?”

“Yeah…I’m worried about you too.”

You laughed. “Why?”

“We’re concerned~”

“‘We’re?’”

“Andrea, Dawn and me.”

“Oh, are you?” You felt ambushed even though it was only Joel on the line. “Dawn hasn’t been here or even picked up the phone to call.”

“She’s worried about you, honest,” Joel said. “Andrea thinks that you’re not coping well with the changes happening in your life~”

“Do you want to talk to my husband about this, Joel?”

“No, I want to talk to you.”

You took the phone from your ear. “Elvis!”

Andrea rushed into the kitchen with a panicked expression.

“Go get Elvis,” You said. “You can’t bombard me like this~”

“We aren’t bombarding you,” She said, trying to deescalate the situation. “Just talk to him.”

“How could you do this to me?”

“I’m doing this because I care. We both do.”

You brought the phone to your ear. “What do you know about how I’m coping?”

“I know exactly how you’re coping,” He said.

“You have no idea what I’m going through~”

“Okay, I’m sorry~”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” You stressed. “I’m happy. Tell Dawn that the next time you talk to her. Since she’d rather hear about me from you.”

“Dawn’s been trying to get to you at Graceland, it’s impossible,” Joel said. “The only reason I even got through is because Andrea’s there.”

“What?”

“It’s like he has you cut off.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I?”

You looked at Andrea. “Why would he do that? He loves Dawn.”

“Dawn’s not the only one trying to get in touch with you,” Joel said. “I’m only saying this because I care about you. I think you have a bigger problem here than you’re willing to admit.”

You leaned against the counter, worrying your lip. You couldn’t get the mental image of Dawn trying to call you out of your mind. She must’ve thought you’d discarded her.

“You have free will,” Joel continued. “You can do whatever you want.”

“Okay?”

“Do you want our help?”

“With what?”

He sighed on the other line, he sounded defeated. Elvis entered the kitchen then, looking confused. “What’s going on?”

Andrea looked at you, her eyes pleading with you. You didn’t know if she wanted you to spare her and Joel or hear them out.

You took the phone from your ear, keeping your eyes trained on her as you handed it to Elvis. You hadn’t noticed it before but it was at that moment that you had felt the true impact of your final decision.

“It’s Joel,” You said—your voice sounded flat and separate from yourself. “He wants to talk to you.”

You didn’t wait to hear what came of the conversation. Nor did you linger to see the look of ultimate betrayal on Andrea’s face as you walked away.

She followed after you—stopping you with tears in her eyes. “I’ll never come back here. I refuse to stand by and watch you lose yourself like this.”

You stalled at the bottom of the stairs but you didn’t face her. You couldn’t.

“If I leave now, you’ll never see me again,” She said. “Please, don’t make me leave you.”

If you had another little piece of your heart to spare you would’ve given it to be crushed as she stood there awaiting your response. Her voice was a whisper when she spoke again.

“Come with me.”

You felt her hand slip into yours and, for a moment, you wanted to go. You turned and hugged her, despite the fury still burning in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m gonna miss you,” You said with tears in your eyes that you didn’t feel like crying. “I love you.”

She hugged you back but only for a moment before you were pulling away. You went upstairs without another word or glance in her direction.

You didn’t want to be bothered when Elvis found you upstairs. “Leave me alone,” You said, before he could say a word. “Just leave me alone.”

He caught the bathroom door before you could shut it, forcing it open. “What the hell was that?”

You rushed to leave the room, but he didn’t let you get far.

“What is it that Andrea’s got going on, huh?” He asked, keeping you in place by your arm. “She’s got Joel calling to talk to you, why?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He let you go, pacing angrily. “There’s no reason he should be calling to talk to you about anything. Let alone some made-up issue that Andrea’s conjured up. This is why I can’t fucking stand her. And you don’t make it any better by falling for everything she says.”

You looked at him, bewildered. “Is this my fault?”

“What’d she tell him?” He asked, fuming.

“I’m as surprised by all of this as you are,” You stressed. “I have no clue what they talked about before.”

“Bullshit~”

“I had nothing to do with this~”

“Bullshit! You’ll never talk to her again.”

“What?”

“I want her gone. I gave you a chance, it’s fucking done.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Excuse me?”

His jaw unclenched as he spoke. “You heard me.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. It’s for your own good.”

“Is it? Or is it for yours?”

He shook his head with a look of disdain. “That’s exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. That’s all her.”

“No, it’s me.” You stepped in front of him, making him face you. “I’m asking you.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“By not taking my aunt’s calls? By keeping me isolated from everyone?”

“Everyone?” He asked. “Dawn, I’m sorry about, honey, I really am. But who else is there?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I haven’t exactly been standing guard by the phone, and, last time I checked, it works both ways. You can call anyone, anytime. What’s stopping you?”

You didn’t meet his eyes but refused to step away when he neared you.

“There is no one else,” He said. “Joel and Dawn. Two people who’s call probably got thrown out with the other hundreds of calls that come through asking for you.”

“So?”

“So, it’s not like you’re locked in a bunker with no communication with the outside world. Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t be.”

You met his eyes when he fell silent, trying not to let the hurt show in your expression. “You told Liz not to speak to me.”

Despite your suspicion, you weren’t prepared for his confirmation. Something about his tone made you think that he didn’t want you to find out. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“To protect you.”

“From what, Elvis?”

“…Things you don’t need to hear.”

You turned your back to him, hoping it would stop him from coming any closer. It didn’t.

“I’m not punishing you.” He placed his hands gently on your shoulders.

“Do you want me to be alone?” You asked.

“No, I want you to be with me,” He said. “I can’t risk anyone coming between us and messing with your head.”

You didn’t know what to say. His hands slipped down your shoulders and his arms wrapped around your torso.

“People like Andrea and Joel…they’ll ruin us if you let them, birdie,” He continued. “And I’ll be damned if I let anything or anyone tear us apart again. Do you understand?”

He kissed your shoulder, then your neck—murmuring against your skin. He told you how much he loved and needed you and that nothing could ever come between you. He swore that he’d be there, that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him. Always.

“We go together. That means wherever I go, you go.”

He loved doing that—repeating himself until his words became ingrained into the very fiber of your being.

You were supposed to relinquish all control and live within your false sense of bliss, happily. That’s what he expected of you—so that's what you did.

You let him silence your curiosity.

“It’s you, and me. Always.”

Cage up your free will.

“You’re my girl. I’m just making sure you’ll always be my girl.”

However he wanted you—

“Okay, birdie?”

—you’d try your best to be.

“…Okay, E.”

He seemed relieved. He sighed, and some of the tension left his body. He kissed your shoulder once more before pulling away.

“Come on,” He said. “Let’s go downstairs.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to. Liz didn’t get you all dolled up for nothing.”

You nodded—not in agreement exactly. “I’m tired.”

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, no doubt deciding whether or not to force you. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No.” You didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to be with him either.

“Are you sure?” He hummed suggestively, slipping his arms around your waist again and kissing your neck.

“Stop,” You laughed, pushing him away. “I’m sure.”

“Alright,” He sighed. “I’ll be back up in a few minutes.”

A few minutes turned into a few hours turned into the entire night and some of the next day. You didn’t know what time it was when you finally woke up. When you did, Liz was already there for you.

“How was your day yesterday, Liz?” You asked, even though you knew she wouldn’t give you much of a response.

“Fine, thank you,” She said without elaborating or even glancing up as you did your hair.

“What’d you get up to?” You asked, humoring yourself.

“…Nothing.” She shrugged off the question, showing you yourself in the mirror. “Something for around the house.”

“It’s perfect,” You said, hardly glancing at yourself. “Thank you.”

She smiled bashfully. “Of course.”

Serena entered the room carrying the coffee you requested. You didn’t want it, you just wanted to get rid of her.

You didn’t pay her any mind as she placed the coffee on the table in front of you. Elvis entered after her, meeting your eyes through the vanity.

He always waited until you were fully dressed to come get you. You didn’t know why. There was no mystery to what you’d be wearing or how your hair and makeup would be styled—it was his choice after all.

“You’re gorgeous, doll,” He said, leaning down to kiss your cheek before presenting you with a narrow black box. “Final touch.”

“What is it?” You asked, taking it.

“Open it and see.” He smiled and watched intently as you opened the box.

You offered a smile, hoping you looked pleased with the bracelet.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

“I love it.”

He took the bracelet from the box and carefully secured it around your wrist. You stood when it was done and gave him a hug—thanking him.

He dragged you along with him to the studio that day. You figured you were back to being attached at the hip. You were never sure what they were working on—it happened so fast in those days.

“Stay with Ray and Serena,” He said, taking your face in his hands and examining your expression. You weren’t sure what he was looking for. Was he picking apart your appearance or your expression? You couldn’t tell and it made you feel over-scrutinized. “I’ll come find you when we’re all done here.”

“I’ll be waiting.” What else would you be doing?

Ray showed you to the green room. Him and Serena stood by the door in shifts—they tried to go about switching out and taking guard in a casual manner. They’d pretend to be pacing the space in front of the door rather than posting up in front of it. Ray would do this thing where he’d stand and pretend to stretch his legs before Serena would suddenly decide to rest hers. It was funny, and did nothing to make you feel safe. It made you feel caged in and unable to move freely.

“Serena, can you grab my bag from the studio? I must’ve left it by accident.”

“Of course.”

You smiled as she left, looking at Ray. “Do you think they have water?”

His expression remained indifferent as always. “I’m sure they do.”

“Do you mind?”

You were relieved when they were gone and tried to take in the moment before it was over.

As you were slouched down on the couch a white envelope slipped beneath the crack of the door. You frowned and stood to grab it. You peaked out into the hallway—it was bustling with people. You shut the door and tore open the envelope. You didn’t even need to read it to know what it was.

A death threat.

You felt lightheaded. When you showed it to Ray he tried to take it to Elvis but you told him not to mention it and to get rid of it instead.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “They may still be on the premises.”

“It’s fine. No need to blow things out of proportion.”

He nodded and discarded the letter with a sigh. He stood by awkwardly as you cried and never tried to comfort you.

sorry for the late post! next week is the finale <3

[doppel-doodles]

Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 7

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: We are back to the Wolffe angst! (but did we ever really leave?) This part is really sad. I know I keep saying that, but this one actually made me tear up while writing it. I don't usually get emotional when writing emotional scenes, so yeah. Do with that what you will. As always, please enjoy 💚

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"Cara," Wolffe said after a moment of them sitting silent. "I need you to go with Comet and pack some things from your room, okay?"

Cara looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "Why?"

"Because we can't stay here without mommy," Wolffe explained.

"Oh," she frowned. "Where are we going?"

"The Jedi Temple," Wolffe said. "We'll be staying with Plo for a while."

"I don't want to go," she pouted.

Wolffe sighed. "I don't want to go either, but we don't have a choice. Please, help daddy and go with Comet to pack."

"No," Cara whined.

"Come on, ad'ika," Comet said. He hopped off of the couch and stretched his arms over his head. "I bet I can pack faster than you."

"Nuh uh," Cara said, then jumped off of Wolffe's lap and ran toward her bedroom.

"Well, that was easy," Comet chuckled. He looked down at Wolffe. "You okay?"

Wolffe sighed. "Do you want a real answer?"

Comet frowned. "I guess that was a dumb question."

"I'm fine," Wolffe said, but his facial expression betrayed his words.

Comet decided to change the subject. "How many boxes can she bring?"

"One," Wolffe said. "The Jedi aren't big on things."

"Understood," Comet nodded, then walked off to follow Cara.

"Oh, Comet," Wolffe threw over his shoulder. "Make sure the di'kute in the kitchen clean up their mess."

Comet smirked. "10-4."

Wolffe remained seated on the floor and fidgeted with the carpet pieces again. Fine. He didn't even know what that word meant anymore. He used to, back when life was simple and fine just meant he wasn't dead. Now, he wasn't sure what to feel, how to feel, or how to deal with whatever feelings he was having. Sure, he felt sad when his brothers died, but something about this death felt much different. It felt heavier, denser, tighter, and suffocating in a way he couldn't fully explain.

Unwilling to dwell on his unchecked thoughts, Wolffe grabbed whatever box he could find and headed to his bedroom. He scrolled through the mental list he made and collected all of the obvious items he wanted to keep. Some things were on the bookshelf, like her favorite holo-novel. Some things were in the dresser, like her nightshirt and a lingerie set he bought her for their first anniversary. And some things were on the bedside table, like the holo-photo album and her half-used chapstick.

He opened the bedside table drawer to check if there was anything hiding in it he wanted and his heart sank. His gold wedding band sat alone in the drawer. He almost forgot about it. He couldn't wear it most of the time, but usually he'd put it on when he was home. He didn't even get a chance this time around. He picked up the shiny band and admired it fondly, reading the inscription and the date on the inside. His wife saved every credit she had to buy those rings for them and he promised to repay her one day. He carefully placed the memento in the box.

Wolffe rummaged through the closet next, pulling little bits and pieces of his wife out and placing the most important items into the box. He only had one box, so he needed to make every spot count. He shifted a stack of clothes to the side on the top shelf and a data-stick fell to the ground with a small clack. He bent over to pick it up and studied it for a moment, wondering what could be on it. He walked over to the holor-projector across from the bed, plugged in the data-stick, then sat on the edge of the bed. An image popped up of his wife and his breath was stolen as the recording played.

Hi darling, his wife said with a warm smile while sitting next to Cara at their kitchen table.

Wolffe gasped, then covered his mouth. He remembered when his wife sent him this recording on Cara's third birthday. He was away on a mission, and wasn't able to look at it for a couple of rotations, but it made him so happy to see them both. He'd been on that mission for months and missed them dearly. He completely forgot about it until now, and couldn't believe his wife kept it all this time. She looked so beautiful that day, and Cara was all dressed up for her special day, too.

Today is Cara's third birthday, she continued, then looked at Cara. Say hi to daddy.

Hi daddy! Cara yelled with a big grin.

"Hi baby," Wolffe said. It might seem stupid to say hello to a recording but he didn't care.

It's time to sing happy birthday, his wife said. Ready, Cara? Nice and loud so daddy can hear.

Cara nodded and they both started to sing. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Cara, happy birthday to you.

Wolffe's eyes turned misty and his body trembled as he tried to contain his emotions.

Now, blow out the candles and make a wish, she said.

Cara blew out the three lit candles and his wife clapped.

What'd you wish for? she asked with a big smile.

Daddy come home! Cara yelled towards the recorder.

Wolffe couldn't hold back the tears that rolled down his face. He wished he had more time with her. With both of them, together, as a family. It was too short. He didn't even get the chance to give his wife the life she deserved. The life he promised her. She took care of everything while he was deployed, and he vowed to take care of everything when the War was over, but now… Every vow he made to her had turned to ash. Until death do us part was the promise, but now, death had claimed her.

Okay, Wolffe, his wife said. I know this needs to be short, so we're gonna say goodbye now.

"No," Wolffe's voice cracked. "Please, don't say goodbye."

Say goodbye to daddy, she said to Cara while waving towards the recorder.

Bye, daddy! Cara yelled and waved.

"Please," Wolffe begged, his entire body shaking. "Cyare. Don't go."

Come home soon, she said, then blew a kiss. I love you, Wolffe.

The recording ended, but the last image of his wife stayed on the screen. Wolffe stood up on shaky legs and approached the projected image. He stretched out his hand to touch his wife's cheek, but his fingers passed through the pixels. He gasped, then tried again. This time to brush her hair with the palm of his hand, but it also passed through. It was just an image. It wasn't real. She wasn't real. Why wasn't she real? All he wanted to do was touch her one more time and hug her one more time; to feel her warmth.

"I love you, too," Wolffe whispered through broken breath.

Wolffe carefully pulled the data-stick out of the holo-projector and cradled it in his hands. Besides his daughter, this was his most prized possession. His wife's voice. He thought he'd never hear it again, and he didn't know if it helped him feel better or made him feel worse. Regardless, he nestled the special memory into the box and surrounded it with his wife's other things to keep it safe from harm. If anything ever happened to that memory, Wolffe didn't know what he would do.

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[drconstellation]

All The Colours In Good Omens: Version II

Part 1: Black to Gold

Even when I put together my original big colour meta back at the end of October 2023 I knew things were going to change on it. Over time it became pretty clear we were way off-track with several of the colours, and I didn't have anything for orange, which does actually appear in a significant amount in S2. There was also a bit of effort to try and incorporate the colours seen in S1 with what was appearing in S2, and to see if there was any consistency. Then I wrote the Passion of Jimbriel, and several particular religiously-themed colour-associations kept appearing, so I went on a search for a more biblical-based interpretation of colour. As a result of this, some colours have more-or-less stayed the same, some have expanded considerably in their range of meaning, and some are completely different! But I think you find the results interesting, nonetheless.

Basically, interpreting the colours in the two series is not a simple task. The colours used in S2 differ slightly to S1. For example, in S2 there is a lurid green associated with Hell (for reasons, which I will explain,) that is not used in S1. But there is also a dark green used elsewhere that turns out to have a different meaning that is not associated with Hell at all, so context becomes very important when trying to decide what it means. Rather than try and fit all the colours into one post, I'm going to split things up and take as much room as I need to explain it all this time.

BLACK

Biblical Meaning: Darkness, sin, Earth, affliction, humiliation, calamity, death, mourning

Additional: Suffering, punishment, Satan

Black doesn't automatically mean a relationship with Hell. The demons don't all wear entirely black, they are actually dressed in a lot of colour, but they do tend towards the darker shades. The colours they do wear reflect individual qualities or characterizations. For example, Lord Dagon is dark blue to reflect their fish god avatar, but it also reflects their senior authority and power. Furfur is in shades of dark green with a few tiny red highlights.

Historically black had an association with wealth over time, as it was difficult to obtain and dye black cloth. In out modern era we would tend to associate it with power and authority - or just looking "cool."

One interesting combination to mention is Aziraphale's magician's costume - black, gold and white. It's the only time we see him, an angel, wearing black. Originally it looked like he was clothing himself in mystery, but I would now say its a combination of calamity and humiliation. I've included a GIF set from S1E1 with the duo discussing Warlock's 11th birthday party in the park, plus recall Arizaphale was heckled from the audience in 1941 when his turnip trick failed. (I guess we could argue this one, its still up for debate!)

Black is also associated with the Horseperson Famine, who rides a black horse. Nobody is getting anything to eat tonight here - or the rest of the week, for that matter.

RED

We originally had red a a single colour, but it's more complex than that and needs to be split into two shades, scarlet and the darker crimson. (I will do pink in another post.)

We can still associate it generally with passion, romance, the Left Hand Side (the sinister side or demonic side), goats, sin, and the archangel Michael on the LHS of Jesus.

The Horseperson War and their parallel character Pepper from the Them both wear red as well. War is said to ride a red horse.

RED - Scarlet

Biblical Meaning: Royalty, blood of humanity

Additional: Martyrs, prostitution, wealth, power, revolution

Scarlet is a lighter red than crimson, just to differentiate between the two colours. It's the colour on the back of Crowley's collar.

Jesus was dressed in red during the Passion to mock him as a king, but he when he appears in imagery such as the sign on the Resurrectionist pub below it reflects his future status as King of kings. It also reflects his connection to humanity, through the blood he shed.

Prostitution is connected through the mention of the Whore of Babylon in Revelations, but the connection to revolutions is a more recent one that may be worth including in anticipation of S3. Wealth and power also belong here, particularly in historical connections.

RED - Crimson

Biblical Meaning: Splendor, victory, sin

Crimson is the colour that Shax wears, the darker of the two shades of red. She comes across as being hungry for success and eager for promotion, both of which tie in with the concept of victory. Her darker red is also mixed with black.

ORANGE

Biblical Meaning: Fire of God, deliverance, passionate praise

Additional: sacrifice

Originally I did not have an interpretation for orange, and did not think there was a lot of it present in S2. Then it was pointed out that Maggie's shopfront was orange, she herself wears orange several times, a lot of the extras wear orange and Beezlebub's sash is orange, too!

Yellow and orange have some cross-over in meaning with sacrifice, but I'm going to do my best to separate them and I'll explain where the fuzziness comes into play in yellow, as I think it sits best there.

Both yellow and orange are also associate with fire, as flames are seen as yellow and orange, not red. The "Fire of God" is alluding to presence of the Holy Spirit.

YELLOW

Biblical Meaning: Faith and Glory of God, anointing, joy, presence of God, fire

Additional: Illness/leprosy, God's judgement and anger, sacrifice, optimism, faithfulness in awaiting the return of a loved one

Yellow is probably the most controversial colour of the spectrum. It's the colour of Crowley's eyes, and we know Aziraphale painted the walls of the bookshop to reflect this.

But let's turn all your preconceived ideas on their heads.

It's one of the colours of fire, so it is closely associated with the presence of God, but also the expression of God's anger.

It is the colour of clear olive oil used for anointing.

On the negative side it is associated with illness, in particular with leprosy.

It is the colour that the traitor Judus Iscariot is often depicted wearing in art.

And it is the colour of saffron and marigolds, both associated with sacrifice in more than one religion. Saffron as a colour can vary in colour from pale yellow to deep orange, and so can marigolds the flower. The flower is named after the Virgin Mary, as in "Mary's-gold," and the array of petals are supposed to be symbolic of the the rays of light that crown her head, relating to the giving of her self to the Ineffable Great Plan, so to speak.

Here's Norman, leader of the yellow team at Tadfield Manor, giving his speech that includes the line "...bugger off and tend to your marigolds." I've shown in other posts that there is the allegory of the Great War/Glorious Revolution being played out here, and Norman is the analogue of Lucifer. Right after his speech he runs out and is felled by a shot to the heart: a sacrificial loser, as all the yellow team and demons end up being.

Adam wears a t-shirt with two yellow stripes on it in S1. Combined with the blue, he does appear to be anointed for a larger role in the story.

Aziraphale's hat-bands are yellow after the 1827 Edinburgh incident. Both in 1862 and 1941 his hats have a yellow ribbon around them. While this could be related to a Heavenly aspect, fanon has it that it's part of his expression of his feelings for Crowley. The tradition of using a yellow ribbon to show that one was waiting for a soldier to return from war was started around the late 1700's.

It is confirmed that the name of the colour used inside the bookshop is indeed called Va Va Voom. While it could be many things, the one thing it is not is fear.

Neither is this example - it's more likely to be fire - cleansing fire. Jim is cleaning with it.

GOLD

Biblical Meaning: Glory, divinity, holiness, eternal deity, altar, beauty, precious, kingship, majesty, righteousness

Additional: Trial of Faith

Gold is usually associated with Heaven and the divinity of the angels in Good omens. Most of the time we see the angels with some trace of gold on them. The most obvious examples were the golden collars and trim on the robes in the Job minisode in S2E2. They even wore golden sandals on their feet.

The archangels and Aziraphale all have their golden rings. Here is Michael with their ophanim ring.

We also have the golden lions that occur in several locations in S2, representing the royal house of Judea that Jesus is said to belong to.

The most interesting use of gold has been on Crowley's "throne" in S1. "Nice chair," Hastur comments at one point.

Oh, and I can't forget this one, either:

This series on colour continues in the following posts:

Part 2: Green to Purple

Part 3: Silver/Grey, White & Brown

Part 4: Tartan Colours Review

[void-occupation]

hello its me- haunting your dashboard and askbox once more haha-

i saw this somewhere else but I don't remember where; what would hell's version of winter be like? I remembered your headcanon about alastor getting cold easily and I would just like to share my vision.

so hell has an extreme climate- we know that- so winter is basically Antarctica. not alastor-friendly AT ALL, it only ever happens once in a blue moon in hell so he's never really had to deal with this before. the whump possibilities are endless lmao. all-around suffering for the deer man.

do with this what you will! no pressure ofc, this is more like a concept you could make your own story or au with so i'm not sure if it counts as an ask- but do whatever you wanna, and if you did ever do a fic, (if that be a series or a one-shot) I would love to make a comic or cover as a Collab! :D

PLEASE never apologize for haunting my dash/asks, this blog is very ghost-friendly!!!!! All ghosts are allowed to haunt as they please!!

As for your beautiful vision: I love it. I will help it grow and will nourish it until it becomes a beautiful whump monster right here on my little laptop. Not sure WHEN I will make it happen, but I WILL make it happen. For now though, I will simply add to this headcanon (expect whatever I add to probably end up in the fic lol)

Winter in Hell is quite the phenomena - only occurring around once every century or so. It doesn't stick to a set schedule though (Lucifer still shudders when he remembers that time that they had five winters within the span of a single decade.) They are also completely by surprise: the most notice Hell has ever had for a winter is that the temperature dropped five degrees in one day. The next morning, sinners couldn't even open their doors the snow was piled so high. And of course, it wouldn't be Hell if the winters were the normal length, no. Winters in Hell can be anything from six months to the record of three motherfucking years. The last winter took place in the late 1910s - about a decade or so before Alastor died.

As mentioned in my previous headcanon, Alastor is a Louisiana boy. And Louisiana did not receive a SINGLE FUCKING INCH of snowfall the entire time Alastor was alive (trust me I CHECKED, that shit is WILD). That means a few things. 1.) Alastor has never seen snow in his now 120ish years of existing. 2.) Alastor has never felt anything below 50°F his entire existence. 3.) Alastor is painfully thin, which means his body has no way to preserve heat. And 4.) Alastor does not appear to have any clothing besides his three-piece suit that he wears all the time in Hell's usual blazing temperatures with seemingly no issue. Of course, this means that his suit would do nothing for him in Actual Cold Weather since he's so used to it.

With all of this knowledge, the only conclusion I can draw is that once winter actually hits, Alastor is royally FUCKED. Especially considering that a winter in Hell is compiled of all of the worst things about winter. The cold air is dry, and the wind is sharp and biting - in the way that leaves your face stinging and your hands and lips splitting. Somehow simultaneously, the snow can change between huge flakes and straight-up sleet, which if you've ever been in sleet, you know it sucks major ass.

If someone doesn't give Alastor a heated blanket He Will Die. Alastor makes the mistake of going outside exactly twice (because let's face it, I love him but this man is too prideful to accept that the weather will kill him after only one attempt - he's Just A Bit Dumb). Both times he has to be rescued by someone at the hotel after he almost fucking freezes to death like An Idiot, and he manages to also get hypothermia both times because he refuses to do anything in halves. After he also almost freezes to death in his room (which is how they find out there's a draft), he's not even allowed in there, and they move him to a guest room right next to Charlie and Vaggie's room that Lucifer added a fireplace to. He alternates between the kitchen (the oven is very warm and Food), his room (the fireplace is very warm and the bed is cozy), and the couch in the lobby (the fireplace is very warm and the couch is cozy and also Alastor is antisocially social).

He is cold. He is miserable. He is perpetually shaking like an old chihuahua. Some of the residents thought it was funny at first, but that quickly stopped after the first Almost Death. They have to watch him because Alastor becomes very despondent, and if he stops shivering, he needs to be warmed up again. Alastor is more exhausted during the winter then he has ever been in his entire existence due to all the energy his body is burning trying to stay warm. He's sleeping more than ever, but he looks absolutely terrible - eyebags so dark they look like a goth guy's eyeshadow, hair a mess, and an overall very strained look about him. He also eats a lot less, so he begins losing weight which is the exact opposite of helpful in this situation. It gets to the point where Husk is willingly braving the elements to get to the butcher shop Alastor likes just to get sinner meat so he will hopefully get something in him.

This winter is the first time any of them have ever seen him willingly snuggle up to someone, and it's fucking LUCIFER because this little bastard puts out the most heat because for some reason that it part of being a seraphim. Lucifer for his part just kinda lets it slide because Alastor would probably die if he didn't and that would make Charlie sad. Ok, and he kinda reminds Lucifer of when Charlie was little and would snuggle up to him, but that's no one's business but his own. If he's a little softer with Alastor afterwards, and less easily provoked by the sinner, that is also no one's business but his own.

hooo, I really let this one get away from me lol. Hope you enjoy this, and please feel free to haunt me as much as you want!! And when I eventually get this pushed out, it would be absolutely fantastic if you decided to make a comic/cover. I absolutely love your art

[jam-as-in-mashed-strawberries]

man this was just supposed to be a jon hair timeline 😔

extra notes and headcanons under the cut cuz um. its a lot and i'm a grade A yapper

Jon: i always kinda oscillated between whether or not he'd look so professional before kinda just decided that he really wouldn't. he's a pretty practical guy in terms of like clothes, i feel. so, when he got promoted, i just kinda imagined him throwing on a suit jacket n calling it a day (the t-shirt for the season one bit says PUSSY MOBILE in case anyone wanted to know lol). also i thought it was a little weird how i never really saw anyone draw jon with burn scars beyond the handshake, since he was put into a coma by a nearby explosion. i'm not sure how well i translated those scars into my drawings but hopefully it's clear? anyways, to me he's a slightly below average height skinny guy with a kinda big head (literally and figuratively)

tim: he's just a short guy with a mullet (that overtime he lets grow out) and a big gut. no extra notes about him just know that i love him from the bottom of my heart and i hope he's kayaking peacefully in heaven

sasha: she's kinda nerdy looking i feel, very relaxed n casual about the way she presents herself, kinda like tim in season 1. i feel she's the tallest of the four (just an inch or two on martin) with an average build. the Not!Them comes across as more indifferent than casual, and is just a bit slimmer than OG sasha and is about tim's height; i always thought of her as the oldest of the bunch. i miss you ms. james even though you had like 4 episodes you actually spoke in

elias: most boring man on earth. i know everyone likes to give him cool little eye accessories but i could never see it. he's just really normal-looking. could pass by him on the subway and not give him a second glance. the only thing that stands out is that he's slightly short (but still taller than tim)

martin: i imagine him as fat man who is almost as tall as sasha, and he wears bright clothes and keeps his appearance nice and tidy up until jon's coma and his mother's death. he dresses nicer for his new position, but he doesn't really keep his personal hygiene. in season 5, despite the apocalypse, he tries to go back to how he used to be, but he still ends up with physical marks of the lonely, like his white streaks and dulled eyes.

basira: i spent way too much time looking at police uniforms for her and daisy and the tie still didnt come out right lol. anyways, she's an average height, slightly stocky woman in my head. after she resigns from the police force, like martin and time, i kinda imagin her being a bit more quick and less careful about her daily routine, which is why her hijab is in a wrap-around fashion. the beginning of season 5 kinda follows this, but after daisy dies, she tries to kind of go back to how she usually wore it.

daisy: she's a tall woman with a muscular build that she loses after her time in the buried. she becomes a lot shakier and uses a cane as she tries to regain her usual movement. she ends up cutting her hair since there was just way too much filth and mud to get rid of. when she gives into the hunt, the only part of her that looks human is her armss, while the rest of her becomes this weird wolf thing. i still haven't got a solid image of her body at this point, but she moves on all fours, not necessarily animal like, but it falls into that uncanny valley where it looks she is but is she really? (<- what is he even talking about ?!)

melanie: side thing but i wasn't really a fan of melanie at first, but i've grown to really like her. it's kinda like how jon feels about her, seeing the self through the other, yk? anyways, she's got a similar build and height to jon (if just like 2 cm taller). she also wears her own merch a lot, even when GHUK ends, which is handy during the apocalypse cuz she's got a change of clothes ready to go !!

georgie: she's of average height and is somewhat fat. she's a lot like melanie in that she likes her change her hair style a lot, but both of them kinda fall out of it during the apocalypse. she also wears a lot of patterned clothing. (which i'm also now just realizing i forgot to add her earrings but i've uploaded the same canas 3 times now so just pretend she has them on lol)

agnes: probably the hardest for me to get a solid image on, and the only thing I could really get was her warm pallette cuz uhm. you know.

gertrude: honestly this keeps like a big of a copy of all the gertrudes i've seen floating around lol. no real notes on her. the same kinda goes for nikola and micheal.m

jane: she's a corpse with worms eating away at it's host. most of her appearance is based on the fact that she's probably rotting, adn the drawing i made was after the time martin saw her and when she attacks the institute. there is not evidence for the flesh of her jaw being gone i just thought it was metal.

gerry: much like his hair, his makeup is also similarly done a little badly. and ofc the look wouldn't be complete without piercings.

annabelle: or as i like to call her. the smugler. like that she looks smug not that she transfers illegal goods. i like to think she always has this slight and subtle smile on her face, even when she's upset.

[anodesu]

I Like How They use Colour in Our Flag Means Death.

Hello, I should be working, but today I just want to take a moment to gush about something that I haven't really seen anyone really talk about yet, but would love to discuss. Our Flag Means Death is a series about love and identity in so many ways, and one of the ways they 'subtly' depict where a character stands with their identity is with the use of colour. The most obvious one that can be addressed is, naturally, Blackbeard. Everything about his character in the show to start encompasses the colour black, including those around him.

Everyone on Blackbeard's crew conforms to Blackbeard, all in black, all in leather, and to an even deeper extreme in the second season as Ed spirals. It's all dark makeup, face paint. Crudely dyed hair. Not even Izzy, whose entire attire has remained unchanged, is not left unscathed when Ed is at his lowest.

(you know, besides the whole... toe... leg... thing) The times that we see Ed in anything but his leathers in the first season are times where he is slowly breaking away from the persona he had built up. We see it a few times when Stede and Ed wear each other's clothes, but that is when they are working on the mutual goal of becoming more like the other. The other notable time this happens in season 1 is when the two are imprisoned, and the clothing that defines each of them is gone, leaving only two men with growing feelings to face one another as equals.

However, Ed's not really the one who I want to focus on here. Instead, I'd actually like to talk about Stede. See, I feel the whole thing with Ed was made very abundantly ham-fisted for a reason. It stresses the idea of colour and theme to us in a simple way, before adding in places beyond Blackbeard. The thing about Stede Bonnet is that, up until the most recent episodes aired (Season 2, episode 7), Stede always had a splash of white incorporated into his attire; be it a cravat or a loose shirt, Stede's attire always has a brightness to it to make his noble ass stand out from the more neutral tones of his (admittedly commoner) crew.

But even when Stede is wearing tones that blend in, there's always that smattering of white somewhere. Or sometimes everywhere.

This is naturally supposed to be in contrast to Ed at all times, as no matter what, Ed's attire is always a little or a lot darker than Stede's, even when Ed was at his most Stede-like.

Things start to truly change mid season 2 with the discovery of a beautiful deep crimson (cursed) suit, which, if you remember, Stede secretly swipes the shirt from to keep wearing. It is this episode where we start to see a shift in Stede's colour scheme from whites and brights to something far darker than he's ever willingly worn before.

This here is the start of Stede's true descent into embracing his pirate persona in a way that did not really fit with his original ideals. By keeping a piece of the suit, Stede lies to his crew that the curse is fully, truly gone from their lives, which frankly, is quite a pirate-like thing to do, and from that moment on, his progression to being seen as a "real pirate" truly takes off. He is wearing that same shirt when he offs Ned Low, and so far, we haven't really seen him wear white since.

It all culminates into the midpoint in episode 7. Stede is basking in the fame, his ego's gotten the better of him. He's casually set a man on fire moments earlier. Ed, on the other hand, is fancying himself a career change. He had thrown his infamous black leather garb into the sea at the beginning of the episode, instead donning something much more soft and neutral; a mid-grey shirt and pants. To add to this, in the scene with Stede, Ed says the following: "I don't even know who I am! I don't wan't to be a pirate... and you- look at you! You're blowing up. You're the toast of the town!" Ed, in his neutral greys of uncertainty, and Stede in deep blues. Not in each other's clothes, but garb they had willingly chosen for themselves, and so the colour shift, where Stede is in darker colours than Ed, is a significant turning point for them both.

I personally don't see it as being White = Good or Black = Bad. I think you could see it in a lot of ways: Society vs Piracy, Gentleman vs Pirate. It could be perceived as the loss of innocence, or maybe just two strict ideals of toxic masculinity on opposite ends of the spectrum. Either way, I think it's a beautiful touch in a show about the exploration of identity of one's self. Thank you for listening to my Ed talk.

[hudine]

This is something of a plot bunny I came up with… don’t have a name for it either. Just a sort of prologue. This part takes place a couple hundred years before the Witcher season 1. Cannon is an unholy fusion of all three plus whatever my brain comes up with. Will be Geraskier.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Two mages and two Witchers sat in one of the mage’s work rooms in the depths of Kaer Morhen looking utterly board.

“So why exactly can’t you do the trail of the grasses on the initiates yet?” Rennes, grandmaster of the school of the wolf, asked the mages.

“Alfred is late,” Dagobert the senior mage answered.

Barmin, Rennes’ second, snorted. “Alfred Pankratz has probably just drank too much faerie wine and got stuck in yet another orgy. How that sorcerer gets himself caught up in these things I don’t know but he does too much thinking with his cock. Remember last year? He stumbled in all rumpled, covered in scratches and bite marks, then bragged about how he had a tryst with the Queen of the Seelie Spring Court. Can you not start without him?”

“If only,” the other mage, Reidrich, grumbled, “We need an ingredient only the fae can give us, and has to be given willingly. It’s the most vital component of the formula. Alfred went to fetch it from them. They don’t like Dagobert because he used to dabble in monster production, and I can’t go without risking a diplomatic incident because King Eredin of the Unseelie Night Court took grave offence that I beat him in a game of gwent of all things.”

“That’s all?” Rennes was astonished.

“He insinuated that I cheated because I won a rather valuable magical object,” Reidrich complained.

“Did you?” Barmin asked with a raised eyebrow.

“For once in my life actually I didn’t… which is probably the only reason I got out of there with my life and without the wild hunt on my tail. Anyway that leaves only Alfred without having to get one of the other schools involved. He’s late.”

As if summoned by mentioning him the lab door opened and in walked a tall wiry man with auburn hair and cornflower blue eyes, wearing loose clothes, a backpack on his back and in holding a small bundle. He looked rather frantic. “Sorry I’m late, something unexpected came up that held me back.”

“Alfred, thank the gods. You have what we need?” Dagobert asked.

“Yes, yes, that’s not the problem—“ Alfred started only for the bundle in his to start crying. “Oh come on kid. I managed to feed you, you don’t need changed, please don’t start crying again.”

“Why do you have a baby?” Rennes demanded, moving closer, catching a whiff, “A fae baby at that.”

“Remember how last year I said I had a tryst with the Spring Seelie Queen… well apparently the contraceptives didn’t work…”

“Wait… are you serious? The fae aren’t pulling a joke on you?” Reidrich inquired while moving closer to take a look.

“Yes I’m serious!” Alfred snapped back out of exasperation, “Changelings are just a myth humans made up to explain the tragic deaths of infants. A Fae child takes around two hundred years to reach the age of majority. Even the most blind human would notice if it took around eleven years for a baby to have just a year’s worth of growth.”

Alfred rocked the baby to try and quiet him as he paced frantically. “What am I going to do with a baby that will be an actual baby for a couple decades!”

“Ok we established the baby is yours. You still didn’t answer why you have them,” Barmin cajoled.

“The Queen’s consort was rather offended. Not that the child wasn’t theirs oddly enough. Although Fae do pair off with someone for many years, apparently they still don’t do strict monogamy. Not in their nature. No they where offended the baby was half human and a potential heir to the throne. Not that it’s that likely, they are the Queen’s third child and her oldest daughter who is next in line has two children herself and another on the way. Anyway although harming a child is a grave offence to the fae she was worried her consort might harm them. So now sudden and unexpected parenthood for me.”

“Well your mother has been going at you about producing an heir for a while now. At least you can now tell her you have the next Viscount de Lethenhove. She might not even mind they’re half fae. She is getting on in years after all,” Reidrich joked and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

Alfred looked even more panicked all of a sudden. “What am I going to tell mother?”

“You’ll work something out. So boy or girl?” Rennes asked.

“Undecided,” Alfred replied and got odd looks from the two Witchers.

“What? I’m sure it has to say it in one of those bestiaries somewhere. The spring court are shapeshifters as well as gender fluid. They quite literally change their sex organs from male to female all the time as children until they settle on their gender expression… some never do and change back and forth at a whim their entire lives. They can also change into one animal form instinctively but can learn how to change into others as they get older.”

“By all that howling I think that little one is going to be a wolf,” Barmin joked, “Here let me take them. Babies are very good at picking up emotions. You’re a nervous wreck it’s just going to make things worse.”

“What’s their name?” Dagobert asked this time as Alfred handed the baby over to the Witcher with some relief.

“They didn’t really have one yet. The fae wait a while before naming their children, get to know them. I’m not sure what to name them. They’re gonna be powerful magically, just feel the raw chaos. They’re a source.”

“Right now the babe sounds like they’re gonna be a bard. Not one of those flashy troubadours either that just sing, dance, and play instruments. No a true bard that can weave magic with their voice and into their songs and music,” Barmin commented. He’d got the baby to quieten down some but was still crying, just not as loudly. “Certainly got the lungs for it.”

“I should give them a male name. If my mother thinks it’s a boy it will make my life a lot easier,” Albert said thinking out loud. “Julian. It was my great grandfather’s name, my mother’s favourite grandparent, who also raised her. It also means youthful, to see the world through a child’s eyes. Appropriate given how long they will be a child compared to a human lifespan. Julian Alfred Pankratz. We can call them Jules, that’s gender neutral.”

“Well Jules, welcome to Kaer Morhen. You’re a damn site more lucky than most boys who come through here because I assume no one is going to put you through the trails,” Barmin said to the baby in his arms.

“I’d kill Dagobert or Reidrich before I let them experiment on my child by putting them through the grasses,” Alfred stated. He was the youngest of the mages at only sixty years old, but no one doubted he would follow through on his promise. “Besides. That boy isn’t just fae, he’s Hen Ichaer, elder blood, just like his mother and the rest of the fae royal families. He was tested before I left. He’ll grow up to have the strength, speed, hearing, vision, and the rest of any Witcher. We really need to get making the potions we need. We’re running late. What are we going to do with a baby in the middle of it?” Alfred asked, remembering why they’re there.

“Oh that’s easy. We got a young upstart we had to take off the path for a while because of an incident people are blaming him for. Not his fault really, it’s just the optics. Best keeping him here for a while until people forget. He doesn’t like kids much, so we made him a fencing instructor a week ago,” Rennes said with a smirk.

“Oh… the kid is gonna just love this,” Barmin agreed with a laugh. “Don’t worry we have the perfect nanny in mind. We should leave you to it and go find Vesemir.”

@xxx|}::::::::::::::::::::>

[toxifoxx]

I ask you questions about William ^_^ !! Answer however many you'd please, I'm just dumping random things atp lmao

♡ would William consider having any pets? if so, what and be as free as a bird of explanation !!

♡ if he didn't major in business and engineering, what would he do? what would've life been like if he had taken another career path? would Henry still be present?

♡ what's something William likes to collect?

♡ if Henry knows William is trans, how did that occur?

♡ if William could choose any other animal besides a rabbit, what would it be?

♡ prior to completing transition, had William thought of other names? in what ways was he discreet of being a boy/man without questions from his parents?

♡ if William were to know of his future, what things would he change? what would he say to/do for his younger self?

YAY YAY THANK U :3 (late answer because i can FINALLY see this now)

1.obvious answer is a bunny since william loves rabbits. he would want to have one and he would most certainly name it bonnie. but perhaps he doesn't have the time to be caring for one, so his secondary choice would be a cat. they're cute and quiet and not too high maintenance :] i don't think he likes dogs all that much. envisioning him as the 'dad and the cat he said he didn't want' meme actually

2.first thought is theater, the motherfucker loves performing & acting he basically does it 24/7 and it gives him a good excuse to be flamboyant and silly and weird. he'd want to be an actor or something. its possible for henry to still be present given that william's circumstances probably wouldn't change and they'd still end up in the same dorm.

3.BUNNY-THEMED ITEMS. i've actually mentioned this one before but he totally has some of those novelty bunny-shaped phones. definitely collects little bunny figures. he has an entire shelf dedicated to random bunny shit he's gathered over the years. no one questions it any more hes just Like That

4.they fucked . thats how it happened they fucked. i mean henry probably saw william shirtless once or twice beforehand but just assumed he had bigger than normal man-boobs (and william could easily play it off as such) but the first time he really learned william was trans was fucking him for the first time and being like huh….. why does he have a pussy…..

5.i almost skipped over this one oopsiesssss. can i answer this with hare /j. uhh truthfully i dont have a good answer but it would have to be something that also looks harmless and disarming since that's the way william likes to portray himself. id say sheep for the wolf in sheep's clothing metaphor but i think he wouldn't want to choose a farm animal.

6.hmmm. good question… think he always wanted to go with some proper sort of name. maybe he considered vincent because i think its very funny and for no other reason. perhaps he just took the name of william from a relative or something. as for being discreet… he brought it up once and never again <3 for the years he lived with his parents he was just dedicated to hiding the fact he was a trans man. feeding into his whole shtick of constantly wearing a mask and pretending to be someone he's not.

7.this one is also a good question. hrm. there's a lotta stuff william internalizes and never ever unlearns so there's only a few things he can really say. honestlyyyyy. maybe he encourages his younger self to just go to fucking therapy. maybe he just says some shit about making the springlocks far far safer than they were (preventing evan's death & his own springlocking incident). but most of all he would try to discourage his younger self from murder (seeing as charlie's death is where everything truly started falling apart)

thanks for the ask!!!!!!!! ^_^

[prettywhenibleed]

𝕬𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖋𝖊 (Another Life)

Pt 1

OC x AceMerrill/David

18+ NO MINORS

TW: Light swearing, a little bit of a heavy make out sesh

You and Ace first met when you were fifteen years old. You always wore things that, inadvertently, made you the target of peoples cruelty. Today was one of those plentiful days. You were just out in town, walking around window shopping when you were shoved by someone behind you. You managed to catch yourself and not fall to the ground, which only seemed to anger the person that had pushed you. It’s not like you wore some crazy and outrageous outfits or did strange things with your hair and makeup. You actually didn’t wear any makeup besides some mascara and, if you were going to go somewhere nice, you might put on a little bit of deep red lipstick. Your hair was naturally a very dark brown, so dark that it basically looked black and it had a bit of a wave to it. The clothing that you wore was not too different from what the other girls in Castle Rock wore, you just happened to prefer to wear all black, with the occasional red accent. As the boy that had pushed you said some nasty things to you, his two friends that stood on either side of him egging him on and offering their own insults, you could feel yourself wanting to cry. You just wanted to burst out into tears right then and there, but you knew that you couldn’t do that. If you did that, you would just give them what they wanted and it would only show them that you were weak and that you were an easy target for them to taunt and terrorize in the future. 

You swallowed the feeling and tried to walk away from them, but as you turned to leave, one of them, you weren’t quite sure which one, grabbed your arm. His grip was tight and you could tell it was an action that was full of anger. Why he was so angry, you didn’t know and you sure as hell didn’t want to find out. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, freak?” One of the boys spat. Keeping your back to him, you tried to yank your arm from his grip so you could get away from them, you didn’t want whatever this was to escalate into something that could get you hurt. Just as he was about to speak again, he was suddenly yanked away and thrown to the ground by someone, each of his friends following suit as they too, were thrown to the ground. Feeling the hand that previously had a vice-like grip on your arm had released you and hearing the sounds of people hitting the ground and the groans that came with it, you finally turned around. You were shocked at what you saw. You saw none other than Ace Merrill and his gang standing over the three boys that had been harassing you. The Cobras. They were only a year older than you, but they had already made quite the name for themselves in our little town and their reputation was one that was bad enough to make you want to keep your distance from them. That was of course, unless you had a death wish. You had obviously seen them around town a lot, though you had never spoken a single word to any of them before, but I guess today was the day that that would change. As you shook the surprise from their actions from your face, you gave them a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.” You told them, your voice small and quiet from your nerves but it was still loud enough that they had heard you. This earned you a smirk from Ace. He took a few confident steps towards you before stopping. He was now so close to you, that you could smell the scent of the cigarette smoke and motor oil that came off of him. “You’re more than welcome, doll. Couldn’t let those assholes harass a beautiful thing like you, now could we.” He said to you, looking right into your eyes. 

From that moment on, Ace became your very own protector. Anytime that someone would say something unpleasant, do something to upset you or just look at you funny, he would make sure that that person was dealt with. He even told his boys to look out for you too... Well, he more threatened that if they didn’t do something when they saw someone messing with you, he would make them wish they were never born. You wouldn’t realize it until much later, but it was that moment that you fell for Ace Merrill, and he wouldn’t admit it until much, much later, that that was the day that he knew that you were going to be his forever. He wasn’t going to let you go, not ever. As the two of you spent more and more time together, which mostly consisted of you hanging around the Cobras’ hangout, going to the occasional drive-in movie with Ace or him just taking the two of you on a drive so you could be alone and talk without the judgmental stares of the people in town, you both started to realize that, while you didn’t participate in the illegal things that Ace did, nor would he want you to, you were both very similar to each other. The biggest thing was that you were both outcasts, different reasons, but outcasts all the same. When you found out that he also had a love for reading, though he hid it very well and had never told a soul until now, you were very excited. It wasn’t until you two had been together for almost a year that you had finally convinced him to read to you. Since then, it has become somewhat of a thing that you two did. You were now eighteen, Ace being nineteen and ever since the whole event with Gordie Lachance, his three friends and the body, you had been noticing something change in Ace. You didn’t know what it was exactly, you could only speculate. While Ace had told you what happened that day near the train tracks, he didn’t bring you because he didn’t want you to have to see a dead body and boy was Ace glad that you weren’t there when Lachance pulled a gun on him, the change that you had seen in him didn’t make much sense. While yes, his ego took a bit of a hit after being bested by a boy years younger than him, you didn’t think that it was enough to cause all of this. 

It was tonight when Ace opened up a little bit to you. You and Ace were in his car, just enjoying each other’s presence while you listened to the radio play lightly in the background, when he spoke up. He turned to you, taking his time looking over your face as if he was trying his best to memorize every detail of it, before he finally spoke. “I’m going to go away for a little bit, doll.” He told you softly. You were confused, that confusion must have been evident on your face, because Ace spoke again. “I’m going to find somewhere for us to go. Somewhere we can run away to. I’m gonna get you the hell out of here and away from those shitty excuses for parents. ” He clarified. He brought his hand up to your cheek and gently stroked it. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch before taking hold of his hand. You nodded lightly. “You’ll come back for me?” You asked him as you opened your eyes and looked up at him. You knew that he would come back for you but you just wanted to hear him say it. “Always. I’ll always come back for you, Aurora.” His voice was firm but full of love and honesty. “You promise?” You asked with a smile. You already knew the answer. Ace let out a chuckle and smiled back at you. He moved his hand that was on your cheek, to the back of your head and gently pulled your face closer to his as he leaned in to meet you halfway, stopping mere centimeters from you, his lips grazing yours as he replied. “I promise.” He whispered before closing the almost nonexistent gap between you. Your lips moved in sync with each other’s, having done this many times before, but it somehow always left you feeling like it was the first time. The kiss was eager and passionate, filled with all the love that you two shared for each other. As the kiss got more heated, Ace moved his hands down to your hips, leaving them in place for a few moments before swiftly lifting you up slightly and pulling you into his lap. With your legs now on either side of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. After a while of making out, you ground into his lap, rolling your hips slightly. Ace let out a moan at your sudden movements, pulling back from your kiss to look at you. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna have to do a lot more than just kiss you, doll.” He said in a breathy voice, his hands already moving up and down your thighs. You leaned back in and gave him a slow, lingering kiss before parting your lips from his slightly. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want, Ace.” You whispered back to him. He gave you a devilish smirk and shook his head. “God, you make me wanna do bad things to you when you talk like that and look at me the way you’re lookin right now, doll.”

The next day Ace packed a couple bags and put them into his car before making his way to your house to say goodbye to you before he left. You held onto him tight as tears welled up in your eyes. “Why can’t I go with you again?” You asked him, your voice muffled slightly from your face still being buried into his chest. “Cause I don’t know what I’m gonna find. I wanna be sure of where we are going before I bring you.” He said to you as he ran his fingers through your hair. You looked up at him, a tear finally making its way out of your eye. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you, doll. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.” He told you, his voice soft and you could swear it sounded like he may have been holding back tears himself. Though you knew he would never let them slip or even show. “Okay, but just. Just don’t forget about me, okay Ace.” You said to him. You knew he wouldn’t forget about you, but deep down, you had this sinking feeling. He gave you a grin and chuckled. “Not a chance. That's not even possible.” He reassured you. We shared one last long and passionate kiss before he got into his car and left. For the first week, Ace had called you every single day, sometimes multiple times a day, filling you in on what was going on and to just talk to you, admitting at one point that he called you multiple times a day sometimes, just so he could hear your voice. You both missed each other so much and you couldn’t wait until he found wherever it would be that you would be running away to, so that you could see each other again. It was a few days into the second week of Ace being gone when it went silent. You were worried when he didn’t call you that day, but just convinced yourself that maybe he wasn't able to find a payphone, or maybe he had run out of change…. After the third day of not hearing from him, you were in a bit of a panic. You were terrified that something had happened to him. Saying that Ace wasn't exactly a safe driver, would be a massive understatement. You were hoping with everything in you that he hadn’t gotten into an accident and hurt himself, or worse. With no way to contact Ace, all you could do was wait. So, that’s what you did, you waited and waited and waited. The weeks turned into months and those months soon turned into a year. 

No word of Ace ever reached you again after your last phone call with him. Your heart broke at the thought that maybe, he had just found someone else, someone new and better than you to live that happy life with. That happy life that he had promised you. As the years went on, you isolated yourself more and more. This year marks the seventh year that Ace has been gone. You were now in your mid-twenties, but something was wrong… Off. While all the kids that you went to school with grew up and looked their age, you didn’t. You looked as if you were still only eighteen years old. You didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t know how  it was happening, but it was. You searched for years, but never came up with anything. As another three years passed, you realized that other people had started to notice as well. It was then that you decided to leave. You had hoped that, when you did finally leave Castle Rock, you would be leaving with Ace, but you don’t always get what you want, do you? Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you continued to pack your car. You didn’t bother taking one last look at the house or town that you had grown up and spent your whole life in. It wasn’t exactly a place that you cared to think much about. Though, you knew that there would always be one thing that you would silently thank Castle Rock for, and that was Ace. Even though you hadn’t heard from or seen Ace in a decade now, Jesus, has it really been that long? Despite the many years that have gone by, your love for him would and has never wavered. He would always be your first and only love. No matter what, no matter how much time passes, that one fact will always remain true. Your heart will always and forever, belong to Ace Merrill.

Your decision to keep moving every four to five years is what had brought you here. Santa Carla, murder capital of the world. The year was now 1987 and you were, in your eyes, practically an old lady now at the age of forty six. You didn’t look to be a middle aged woman though, you still only looked eighteen years old. All these years later and you still couldn’t figure out what had happened to you back then. It was hard, not being able to make any long lasting friendships. Though, you never did have friends back then either. Well, except for Ace and his gang of course. Even though it has been almost three decades since Ace disappeared from your life, you never could bring yourself to even think about moving on. Moving here to Santa Carla, you felt different. It was as if you could sense something was about to happen. Whether that thing would be good or bad, you were yet to find out. Over the years you had managed to amass quite the savings, so when you got here, you went straight to the apartment that you had been looking at and met up with the agent there. You did what you had to and soon, the apartment was yours. After getting your things inside, of which there wasn’t much since you moved so often, you decided on taking a much needed shower. You had originally wanted to just go straight to bed after you were done, but you quickly decided against that when you got out and got dressed. You felt a strange pull to the boardwalk that you had seen on your way to your apartment. By the time you had gotten dressed and was ready to head out, the sun had sunk into the horizon and the sky was now dark. You felt almost giddy as you parked your car and made your way through the crowd on the boardwalk, looking at all the stalls you passed and everything that they were selling. You had stopped at one stall in particular, it was one that sold little trinkets, jewelry and such. You were pulled deep into a memory of you and Ace when you spotted a locket. It looked so much like the one that Ace had given to you for your eighteenth birthday. He had even managed to put a photo of each of you in there. Your hand instinctively went to the piece of jewelry that still hung around your neck. You hadn’t taken it off in almost three decades. God you missed him. You had hoped through the years that maybe one day you would see him again, but you never did. You didn’t notice, but there was someone in the crowd watching you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the woman that stood in front of him, a woman that he hadn’t seen in so many years and one he thought he would never see again.

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[whatyourusherthinks]

My Adventures With Superman Review Wrap Up

Final Summation

Roan, skip it. We know you think this show is good. You only spent god knows how many paragraphs gushing about every single detail in every single episode, and the only things you complained about were things only people obsessed with Superman would complain about. I now know more about you're opinions on a fictional flying man than I know about my wife's political affiliation. You obviously recommend the show, what more do you even have to say? ...Buggnutz, you make an excellent point. So let's move on to...

Episode Rankings

Season One is in red while Season Two is in blue pppbbblllttt...

Olsen's Eleven

My Adventures With Supergirl

My Adventures With Mad Science

The Death of Clark Kent

Two Lanes Diverge

The Machine Who Would Be Empire

You Will Believe a Man Can Lie

Pierce the Heavens, Superman!

Zero Day: Part Two

Full Metal Scientist

Zero Day: Part One

Kiss Kiss Fall In Portal

Let's Go To Ivo Tower, You Say

Hearts of the Fathers

Adventures With My Girlfriend

Adventures of a Normal Man Pt. 2

Adventures of a Normal Man Pt. 1

More Things in Heaven and Earth

My Interview With Superman

Most Eligible Superman (This placement is all your fault Cat Grant)

What I Want From And For Future Episodes

BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING BUGGNUTZ I know this is selfish. I know that this isn't the purpose of reviews, I know that creators shouldn't be hamstrung by the wishes of fans and should do what's best for the story they are making, and I know that just because I'm a big fan doesn't mean that I deserve to have my voice heard in the creative process. I know all of this. But I had some ideas/wishes for things I'd like to see in future episodes and maybe the readers will agree and the creators will take inspiration from. I just wanna have fun and excise some ideas from my head. Okay, anything you want to add? ...You're a massive nerd.

Anyway, the first this I want is for the show to have

Massive. Nerd. Yeah I know. Actually, I don't want a movie necessarily, I actually just want 10+ seasons or however many the creators want. I feel like so many shows that are beloved are cancelled before the creators are ready to end them, and I really don't like it. This is just hoping everyone gets a fair shake in working on this show and telling the story they want to tell.

Second thing: Lex needs to start wearing more green. Oh god, really? Yes! He is a green villain, he should at least accent his clothes with the color! The guy wears green mech suits and has a green trench coat for Rao's sake! Yes, true, he doesn't ALWAYS wear green in the comics, but it's the color most associated with him. I guess they didn't make Alex wear so much green because they wanted the twist to not be more obvious than it was, but he's been revealed now. Seriously, I want this more than I want him to go bald. Why does Lois Lane wear more green than Lex Fucking Luthor? Actually, y'know what would be a funny way to do it? If Lex steals Lois's coat and just starts wearing it to be a petty bitch. That not only would be incredibly funny, but it would perfectly in character with the version they've presented for the show. AND SPEAKING OF DUMB ASS COSTUME CHANGES.

Third, give Clark his shorts back and Ma also makes a skirt for Kara. I am not ride or die on all super heroes having the "underwear on the outside". Batman looks fine without the black shorts, so does Wolverine without the blue, the Fantastic Four, and whoever else got that costume change. That is, except for Superman. Superman needs the red shorts for his costume. His design just isn't complete without it. Not only does it break the main blue coloring of his costume in a way that looks so much better than the quasi-belt every did, but the illusion to circus strongmen is something I think is essential to the character. And if you do it for Clark, you should absolutely do it for Kara. I was so excited in the second episode when Ma makes additions to Clark's costume, but now with the new costumes at the end of the second season, it just feels like fanservice inclusion that the writers forgot about. Well it wasn't to me, and it should be brought back. You don't even have to change anything else about the design. I've seen some artists draw mock-ups of the new costume with the shorts/skirt added, and it looks great. If the first scene of the third season isn't Clark and Kara standing awkwardly at the farm while Ma takes their measurements for additions to their costumes, I might actually throw something at the screen. Calm down dingus. NO THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Fourth thing, since the Newskid Legion are a major supporting characters, I want an episode with the Guardian. Hell, Cadmus was also introduced in the first season, and how badass would it be if Monsieur Mallah and the Brain met the Newskid Legion? I can totally see Mallah getting concerned about these kids getting into dangerous Superman situations by themselves and coming to the conclusion that what they need is a genetically modified clone to hang around and protect them. Besides, this is probably the closest we could get to having one of the best versions of Superman teaming up with Captain America (who also happens to be one of my favorite superheroes), and that would be awesome. Unlike my other wishes here though, I don't really need the Guardian to be a reoccurring character, I guess, I dunno I would like it but if they just wanted to make him a one-off that's fine too. But it would be awesome.

My fifth thing, and honestly I'm surprised I want this, is I want Krypto and Streaky to make an appearance. See, here's the thing with all the Kryptonians in the comics. It diminishes Clark's status as the last Kryptonian if every other decade they introduce more of them. The comics pull this a lot, and it honestly is kinda dumb. MAWS right now has only Clark and Kara, and they hammer it in the second season that there is not a single other Kryptonian left and that they just have each other. I'd bet dollars over donuts that Zod and his posse will show up if the series continues past season three, so do we really want to just keep saying "Oh... uh... more rockets left Krypton or that other Krytonians were just off planet." or whatever? Not really. But Superboy is getting introduced next season. And it's clearly supposed to be Conner Kent (or Kon-El), the clone made from Clark and Lex's DNA. He's even got the leather jacket and the shades like from the 90s comics, I can't wait to see what they do with him. So here's my proposal. Lex has to test his cloning experiments, and before he moves on to attempting to clone a human, he tries to clone a dog and a cat. And that dog and cat happen to have superpowers just like Superman. The writers could even be cute about it and have a horse and a monkey be previous attempts too. And then at the end of that episode Clark gets a puppy and Kara gets a cat. You can probably already see the potential. This Clark would be adorable with a dog, and there is such an easy b-plot to have Jimmy or Lois or whoever have to pet sit for Kara and deal with an asshole cat with super powers. Yeah you could stick with the comic's origin for Streaky and expand that to Krypto, but that would involve expanding Kryptonite to including a bunch of different types and that's another kinda stupid thing the comics do. Also, if Lex is cloning Superman, Bizarro better show up. I'm dead fucking serious. (Actually how funny would it be if all of next season is just Lex making a bunch of superman clones in various to try to kill him and they all go out of control in various ways. You already got Hank Henshaw as a pre-existing character who already hates Superman. This could be like Reign of Supermen but with the intention of killing Superman before replacing him.)

Sixth, and hear me out on this one. I already mentioned Conner Kent/Kon-El Superboy will make an appearance next season. Outside of the comics, most people know this Superboy from Young Justice, and in that show he is dating (or was, I stopped watching after the second season) Miss Martian. But, she's kinda got her own baggage that would be a bit to hard to bring into a show that's exclusively based in the Superman mythos, so here's my pitch instead. After Superboy eventually gets redeemed and joins Clark and the team, he should meet and fall in love with... Martian Manhunter HEAR ME OUT! Out of every DC hero that I would consider to be their own property (i.e. not other Superpeople like Supergirl or Steel) Martian Manhunter is probably the easiest to incorporate into the show. The comics and other animated properties constantly draw parallels between J'onn's and Clark's situation, and there is so many interesting directions you could take this in this particular show. Clark's constant emotional journey is about acceptance on his adopted planet and while Kara being around is great and I'm sure we'll get some great drama and introspection from both characters in the next season, he still considers earth his home. He doesn't remember anything from planet of origin. J'onn does. That's always been a point of contention between the two and it leads to some really interesting drama if the right writers utilize it. Can't you totally see a Clark who, in future seasons, feels more secure in his place on Earth having to help a new alien with a similar but way worse situation with the same problems he had at the beginning of the show? Now I can hear what you're saying... Martian Manhunter has always been a fairly asexual character, and a major part of his backstory is that he has PTSD about his wife and kid. Thank you Buggnutz, and you're right! But MAWS changes every character to fit better with the storyline, and I think the changes are always for the better. So do the same with J'onn. Age him down. Instead of him being rescued as an middle aged adult by a random scientist who then dies immediately, maybe this is teenager or young adult J'onn is accidently rescued by Star Labs, or the Brain and Mallah, or Lex Luthor, or whoever, and his PTSD comes from losing his parents instead of his wife and kid. You can still keep his personality the same, just adjust the anime knob a tad. Everyone already lost their minds with twunk Slade Wilson, can you imagine the pop-off for emo twink J'onn J'onzz? And then he can meet Conner and they can have a meet cute and it can be the new relationship to hope for after Kara and Jimmy inevitably hook up. Plus, DC already changes the sexuality of pre-existing characters, including Superboy (kinda sorta), in the comics so this wouldn't be the first time they've done something like this. And while the show is already a huge diversity win in general, if it's raining why not let it pour hm? This is the only outside hero I want added to the show by the way. No Batman, no Wonder Woman, none of that. Keep it to obscure easter eggs and references. Let the Superman show be about Superman please.

And for sure don't bring in the Doom Patrol. Or, at least, not every member of the Doom Patrol. Who the hell are the Doom Patrol? They are my favorite superhero team. They've changed a lot over the years, but the basic gist is that they are a team of regular people who got into horrible accidents which gave them powers, but also made them freaks in the eyes of society. They've been everything from black ops earth defenders to psychedelic dimensional travellers. Heck, their most recent series makes them a metahuman government support network. The reason I bring them up is that the Brain and Mallah are frequent enemies of the Doom Patrol, so if they were to bring them into the show, they'd probably make them enemies of the crew. I don't wanna see my boy Robotman be evil, aight? However, there is one member of the Doom Patrol that could possibly work as a one-shot antagonist, if they really wanted to do it. That is the Doom Patrol typical defacto leader, the Chief. Nile Caulder, a.k.a. the Chief, is a super smart guy in a wheelchair. Yeah that's it. His big thing in the comics is he usually engineers the accidents that give the various members of the Doom Patrol their powers, as a sort of sociopathic experiment. So he's already evil, canonically. It would be an easy thing to turn into "oh he's a scientist for Task Force X and he specifically wants Brain and Mallah because history or maybe ego" but eh... They're is probably too much history in the comics for it to fit. I'm just asking that the writers not make the Doom Patrol evil.

One final thing... Darkseid is gonna show up eventually, right? There was the lasers in flashback during 'More Things in Heaven and Earth', so there has to be plans way down the line for the New Gods. Right? Well if they do, I hope for two things. One) Mister Miracle is involved somehow. Even if it is in a limited capacity, I'd just want to see him. Mister Miracle is awesome. And two) Only give us sparing glimpses of the big man, at least until the finale of his storyline. Here's the thing, Darkseid is a big deal. He's literally the god of everything evil, and a character like that loses his gravatas if you keep bringing him back. So save him for like the final fight. Which isn't to say never show him or mention him. Darkseid is a force of evil, he has armies of minions on his literal beck and call, and Desaad is just his hype man. Darkseid shouldn't tussle with wannabe heroes unless they attack him first. Darkseid is greater than these lesser being. Darkseid is Omega. Omega is Antilife! ANTILIFE IS DARKSEID! DARKSEID IS-

[blametheeditor]

The Expense Of Trust | Chapter 1

Next

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of others being lesser than. Intent to kill. Death by anomaly. Darker themes and tone.

Run Down: In the instant of a site-wide containment breach, there are only a few protocols available to follow. Know the right people, hope to be at the right place at the right time, and whatever you do, don't trust anything.

Well, well, well

__________________________________

“Have you been keeping David in line?” 

“You mean have I been keeping Fritz out of trouble?” 

“Yes to both questions, James,” Fritz grins, quick to wipe it away before David can spot it and threaten to report for insubordination. He really never knows when the senior researcher will actually follow through on requesting a change for an assistant. “There haven’t been any experiments that required him to put on a lab coat.” 

“Thank goodness,” has David glaring at the phone currently on speaker, the sarcasm in James’ voice loud and clear. There’s also a few sounds of shouting in the background, but neither of them comment. “How would he ever survive?”

“It’s not my fault your idiotic institution has dumbass rules.”

Fritz wisely decides not to join in on reminding the tall man never seen wearing anything but a full piece suit why a lab coat is required. He doesn’t need a lecture about how it’s a crime forcing such clothing to be covered by such a gaudy accessory. Not with James ensuring he sighs loud enough there’s no mistaking it. “Oh no, you’re so right, David. Getting acid spilt on you and damaging your suit that way is much better than protecting it and yourself for the sake of aesthetics. Remind me, what are you two doing right now?” 

David sends a look that says Fritz will cover for him, or the redheaded teenager is going to regret it, especially when they don’t have a specific date for when James will return to protect him from the senior researcher’s wrath. 

Fritz glances around the room they had been assigned to today. With David standing in the corner by the door, his phone sitting on a nearby table. Almost directly opposite, the teenager stands at the sterilized counter beside a sealed glovebox that takes up a majority of the space. 

Good news, technically David doesn’t need a lab coat right now considering the substance they’re testing is already safely inside the chamber. Bad news, he’s being a terrible role model for following safety procedures. 

“He’s safely out of the contamination area,” Fritz offers. 

“At this point people will begin to genuinely ask how you ever became qualified to be a senior researcher,” James remarks. 

“Well certain people should stay out of other’s business when it doesn’t concern them,” David growls. 

“I can’t help but feel like that was a jab toward me.” 

“Of course it was a jab toward you!”

Fritz quickly hides his laughter as the two continue to fight, focusing back on the task at hand. Putting on gloves and goggles before starting only a few basic tests on what had been described to them as a chemical produced by SCP-8202 that’s more of just an unknown variable rather than a harmful one. 

Honestly, he’s kind of curious how David and James became such good friends. Despite the hostility, the tactical response officer on the other end of the phone is called almost weekly, if not daily depending on what managed to annoy David enough that he needed to demand support. And it’s usually because someone brought up the lack of him wearing anything for safety. 

The best part is James doesn’t tell the senior researcher to stop, or to lower the amount, despite the fact they all know he is currently working an active mission of containing an anomaly offsite. The soft shouts from before has turned into larger amounts, and yet the argument still continues. There really never it any anger unless David is actively distracting him and refuses to hang up when things get...chaotic. 

David’s never been the cause of a mission failing, or of someone getting hurt. But James has been pretty good at balancing entertaining his friend, and ensuring he knows that as good as the officer is at his job, he’s not an all-powerful being who can make everything wrong with the world vanish with the snap of his fingers. 

Fritz jumps as a siren suddenly blares. He actively attempts to set the breaker in his hand down carefully despite the uncontrollable shaking, but there’s no denying the terror snaking its way into his mind. Panick almost wanting to make him throw the fragile object despite it containing a still fairly unknown chemical just to get out, get to safety, he has to-! 

The redhead curls in on himself when he feels two hands on his shoulders, stopping his frantic movements. He takes a moment to take a few deep breaths before looking up at David’s flat expression. At least there’s no anger. 

“It’s not to alert us there’s been a containment breach,” David begins. “This one is to let everyone know they’re doing a controlled transfer to get an SCP to another facility.” 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, to latch onto ‘controlled transfer’. Hesitate at the fact the siren doesn’t sound like the one to signal the immediate need to evacuate, a lot softer and with a different pitch than the one he heard during orientation. Suddenly feels embarrassed by his reaction. 

“S-Sorry,” Fritz murmurs. He finally manages to carefully set down the beaker before withdrawing his hands from the box. 

David frees him, but instead of demanding they begin the report with the few things Fritz accomplished, the tall man motions to the door. “Let’s go watch it.” 

Fritz will admit he completely froze out of pure terror. At the thought at getting anywhere near an anomaly outside of containment, whether or not it’s controlled with multiple personnel ensuring nothing goes wrong. “W-Watch it?”

“It’ll be safe. The message I got this morning even encouraged us to watch.” 

“It will be completely safe, Fritz,” James pipes up. “You should check it out, even for just a second.” 

Now Fritz feels humiliated rather than embarrassed. The two teaming up due to knowing why he reacted to both the siren and the suggestion in such a way. It’s even worse James understood what happened despite being on a phone call. Fritz almost regrets admitting a little bit about why he’s an assistant researcher for the Foundation. 

...James has never been malicious, though. If anything, David figured out real quick that the redhead would be the only thing that’d lower his anger if, say, there was a call right as the officer was about to capture an anomaly before it literally blew up in his face. 

And despite the superior outer shell, David’s been more or less warming up to Fritz. No longer wrinkles his nose when the teenager is in close proximity or snaps to shut up despite responding to a question that had been asked. Even before then, the senior researcher wasn’t trying to torture the unwanted assistant, just find ways to pass him along to someone else. 

After a few months of working together, Fritz isn’t despised. David isn’t walking out the door to force his assistant to follow considering today he was tasked specifically to help the tall man with the sole reason David always knows what’s best. 

“...we, we can go watch.” 

“Hanging up, James.” 

“Don’t hesitate to call back.” 

David roll his eyes as he pockets his phone before walking out of the room. Fritz jolts at the realization he’s being left behind before shedding his gloves and goggles, chasing after the man who’s a full foot taller and yet never slows his pace down. 

“He bitches about me calling, but whenever the dumbass is worried about you he’s more than happy to get covered in ash again despite complaining it took him weeks to get it all off.” 

The teenager is forced to jog to keep up. “Well, you do-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Fritz smiles at the threatening tone despite knowing where they’re headed. Glad to have something to keep his mind off of it. Forcing his limbs not to lock up as he repeats the promises this is safe. Nothing will happen.

David’s hand catches Fritz’s lab coat before he can jog past the senior researcher, yelping as he’s pulled toward a set of large windows he’s never seen before. He then slowly moves closer when it becomes clear they’re not looking into a room level with them, his breath catching at the sight of having to look down, down, down before he finally spots the ground floor. Which is both terrifying and yet comforting knowing they’re so far away from the anomaly. 

The redhead nearly screams when he finally spots it. Such a small form from this high up, but a creature not made for this world none the less. One that’s tall, so thin he can see the edges of its internal structure, and a muted teal color from head to toe. An eerie figure that only becomes uncanny when it takes a stuttering step forward, swaying as if it’ll fall over at any second. 

Then it lunges.

David catches him before he can sprint away, pulling the teenager close so there’s no escape. From the anomaly, from the idea the officers currently standing directly beside it getting attacked, at the memories of that same walk advancing toward Fritz. 

”Whaaat are you s-so afraid of?”

“You’re not wrong to assume anyone but James are complete dumbasses when it comes to interacting with SCP’s without dying themselves,” David muses, sounding almost annoyed. 

Fritz takes a deep breath when it’s clear he’s acting like a scared child, far from the professional assistant researcher he’s done everything in his power to be for David due to the man accepting nothing but perfection from those around him. Clenches his fist and grits his teeth in order to see what’s being spoken about. 

Unable to help but stare at the anomaly being completely frozen midair, unable to complete the lunge that was too fast to avoid. 

“But no one would transfer an SCP without first having all of the proper equipment,” David finishes. “Not to mention, we’re inside a place built on protecting against things like this. Humans like James are trained on responding to situations where someone’s in danger.” 

Just like that night, when Fritz should have been killed. Unable to escape even if he could get himself to move, to run. It was faster than him. Didn’t feel any remorse wearing the skin of someone he knew. There was a field agent who managed to save him before it was too late.

...David’s actually trying to comfort him. 

Fritz blinks at the realization. Because this was more than just explaining why someone’s being stupid, those words were specifically meant for reassurance. It makes him smile at the black mail he can give to James when the man’s back on site before leaving for another mission. Appreciative, but never thought he’d see the day. 

“What are you looking at, dumbass?” 

Fritz’s smile immediately disappears when it’s clear he was caught. "I, I appreciate you letting me watch.” 

David scowls before suddenly turning on his heel in order to walk back the way they came. Fritz takes a moment to watch the anomaly slowly wake up, its limbs carefully resetting itself to stand rather than falling to the floor in order to make its way to the waiting truck. Quickly running after his senior researcher. 

“Now get back to work!” 

Fritz nods as he grins. Finds himself a lot less tense despite the siren still blaring. Straightening up in attention when David places a hand on his head, almost confused at seeing the hazel eyes harden. 

“I won’t let any SCP hurt you. If anything ever happens, wait until I find you.” 

It’s such an odd request. Yet it’s said so earnestly Fritz can only nod. “Okay, Dr. Harrison.” 

He should’ve seen it coming, but then again it’s David. Someone who rarely does certain actions only James tends to do out of fondness. Meaning the senior researcher earns a squawk as he ruffles the red hair with a smirk. “Dumbass.”

Fritz tries everything in his power to get his breathing under controlling, going so far as to holding it instead of hyperventilating. It’s the only thing he can do. Not when his body reacted on its own as soon as the siren started blaring. Sending him diving under the counter before curling into the smallest ball possible. 

Now, of all times, why was he remembering that day? Of both David and James attempting to help him with the obvious terror? The promise Fritz made? 

Maybe because it’s better to think about that rather than the fact the entire site has been compromised. At the fact Fritz had been working completely alone while testing a few chemicals after agreeing to switch tasks with his colleague for the day. Knowing he won’t be saved, that this is it, but unable to help but feel comfort and hope that somehow David will actually be able to find him. That James will appear on site despite the fact he left for a mission two days ago. 

Fritz knows it’s nothing but wishful thinking, and yet he can’t bare the thought of a fatal anomaly stumbling upon him at any minute. 

He truthfully doesn’t know what’s better. Knowing that something went wrong is one thing. The siren states there’s been a site-wide containment breach, meaning either an anomaly entered by itself and is causing havoc, or every single cell for hundreds of documented anomalies have just unlocked. Considering the door to the room Fritz was conducting experiments in opened on its own occurred without anyone’s presence, it staying opening, it’s clear the latter is true. 

Yet he hasn’t heard or seen any evidence of every anomaly escaping at once. It’s been almost too quiet, not even the sounds of personnel running or screaming. So despite everything saying he needs to evacuate as soon as possible, it almost feels like nothing’s wrong. 

Fritz still can’t move. Can’t even try to peer into the hallway just to see if he should start running. Not when he’s locked in place. Even when he hears the distinct sound of footsteps quickly making their way down the hallway. Despite the fact they’re getting closer and closer to him. And he’s just waiting, just like before. 

He can only stare in horror as shoes appear in his field of vision as something walks into the room. 

...he knows those shoes. 

“Fritz!” 

That’s David’s voice. Not a stranger’s, not a warped cry of an anomaly. But that can’t be real. How would the man find him? How-? 

Fritz can’t breathe when the figure is suddenly kneeling to reveal David, who looks relieved when he spots the shivering redhead. “You scared the shit out of me. Come on we need to go.” 

It’s automatic, reaching out to accept the outstretched hand. The promise Fritz will be kept safe. Or at the very least won’t be alone. 

”Come heeeere.”

Fritz yanks his hand back, bumping into the wall in the attempt to get as far away from the thing trying to trick him. Shaking his head to force himself not to trust what seems like a genuine look of confusion and concern. 

“Are you D-Dr. Harrison?” 

It takes a moment to register what was asked, especially because Fritz can’t speak above a whisper. But he sees when it’s comprehended. The look of fond annoyance so familiar it hurts. “What kind of dumbass question is that?”

That seals it. That this really is David and not something pretending to be him. Responding in such a way that couldn’t be rehearsed enough to sound that genuine. 

Fritz lunges forward, the taller’s eyes widening in surprise before yelping as the momentum sends them both falling. The redhead doesn’t apologize though, not when he’s too busy clinging to David as tightly as possible, slumping in relief when all that happens is a sigh before he’s hugged instead of getting killed because he made the wrong choice. 

“It’s okay. Nothing’s going to touch you now that I’m here,” David murmurs. Fritz doesn’t want to call out the lie. Not when he was found. He doesn’t know how, and maybe he doesn’t want to know, but the promise was kept.

Fritz laughs when he’s awkwardly pat on the back after a minute. “Th-Thanks for, for finding me.” 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” David demands. The redhead doesn’t protest as he’s sat up, snorting when the senior researcher’s first priority is to dust his suit off. “Shut up, be grateful I didn’t yell at you for making me lie on the floor.” 

If there had been any doubts before, they would’ve disappeared by now. No one but David can be that protective over his suit. Despite the siren still attempting to alert anyone around that can hear it there has been a fatal error somewhere on site. 

Before Fritz can ask what happened, he’s being helped to his feet before getting lead out the door. There’s no time to realize and panic that they could encounter a dangerous anomaly immediately. Not when he’s already standing in the hallway that’s...completely empty. The pure white walls untouched. 

“Stay behind me.” 

David doesn’t free his arm until Fritz nods to state he understands. The senior researcher then begins to walk down the hallway, his assistant immediately following at a slight jog in order to keep up with the fairly quick pace. Almost like today wasn’t any different from yesterday. Or a few days before that. 

When they reach a corner, David doesn’t hesitate to round it without so much as slowing down, Fritz essentially left behind as he skids to a halt. Panicked at the fact something could’ve been waiting. The senior researcher almost acting like the entire facility hasn’t been compromised. The doors to the observation rooms of certain anomalies are wide open not even a few feet away. 

"Fritz?” 

Green eyes blink up at David watching him worriedly. Realized he left the teenager behind and came back for him. It causes Fritz to hug himself knowing he’s the reason they’re no longer heading toward the exit. Able to be stumbled upon by an anomaly. “Y-You just, what if-?” 

“Hey, take a deep breath,” David softly commands. “I will get us safely out of here in one piece whether we encounter an SCP or not. But I need you to trust me.”

Trust the man who managed to find him without being told of the switched tasks. The man who refuses to follow standard safety procedures. The man who ridiculed him from day one of being assigned as assistant. The man who acts like he’s a god at times and had a habit of refusing to obey instructions when an observation became compromised. 

The same man who did find him to make sure he got out safely. 

“...I trust you Dr. Harrison.” 

David smiles as he squeezes Fritz’s shoulder. “Just stay close, don’t stop unless I do. I’ll explain once we’re out.” 

He nods to say he’ll accept it. Confused and still terrified that David’s only acting like he’s invincible. But if they do get out safely, Fritz will never doubt the tall man again. 

Fritz obediently jogs after David as they round the corner, biting his tongue when instead of following the hallways toward the ‘nearest’ exit, they seem to take a roundabout path instead as they make a right instead of continuing forward. To be honest, the facility is so vast the redhead can’t help but get lost at times. Maybe there are quicker ways to get out. Ones assistant researchers aren’t knowledgeable of. 

“I really hope that stupid thing got turned off as well,” David mumbles. “We should’ve already found- James!” 

Fritz yelps as he collides with the taller figure suddenly coming to a stop, unable to say anything about the amused smirk he earns due to getting a bit dazed from the impact. He’s not nearly as confused to not grab David’s arm to hold him back before he can start down the hallway to where a familiar figure stands. One that shouldn’t be possible. Yet it perks up at the called name. 

It looks like James. From his brown hair to the custom made tactical belt clipped around his waist. They haven’t heard the man speak, but at least David isn’t forcing them to go towards what might be the officer they know. 

“H-How do we know?” Fritz breathes. Unable to finish the sentence. Pleads David understands he’s not questioning the senior researcher, just questioning if they can trust what they see. 

It takes a moment, but a soft ‘ah’ is made once David realizes. “It’s James. I’d be able to tell if it was an SCP in disguise.” 

Fritz wants to ask how, but it’s too late, ‘James’ slowing down when he gets about a few feet away with his hands held up in surrender. “Hey, Fritz. It’s just me. The same one you called about David possibly going on a rampage because someone tried to make him wear a lab coat again.” 

That sounds convincing, but he can’t know for sure, meaning he doesn’t let go of the arm attempting to tug them both forward. If David’s wrong about being able to tell what’s an anomaly. Is that a reaction James would have? Is that from years of containing different creatures with unknown abilities, or just something trying its hardest to earn their trust?

"What about the same one you secretly called because you were concerned David was sick because he acting ‘too nice’?” 

“You did what?” 

Fritz doesn’t respond to David’s question, lunging toward the familiar smirk at managing to get on the taller’s nerve. He’s caught before immediately getting pulled into a hug. Definitely their James. “S-Sorry.” 

“No, you did good,” the officer assures. “We all know David is a terrible role model.” 

“I am not!” David exclaims. “I was right, wasn’t I!”

Brown eyes roll before Fritz is gently pushed away in order for James to pat down his arms, a more than familiar ritual by now. “Have either of you encountered anything? I only saw one anomaly.” 

“Nothing as of yet. Don’t know if that’s a good sign or a really bad one.”

Fritz watches as James seems to hesitate, meeting his gaze before looking up at David. “Bad. Meaning we need to get out as soon as possible, meaning you’re leading the way.” 

The senior researcher doesn’t question it. Only checks to make sure they’re ready to go before heading back the way they came. This time at a much slower pace in which Fritz no longer has to jog just to keep up. 

Somehow, it makes this ten times worse. Fritz knows they might being going slower because now they actually have someone who can at least keep an anomaly at bay if not neutralize it for a short period of time. Knows it’s because James is keeping an eye behind them with one glance back at the officer. David might not be trained to help on missions in capturing anomalies, but it wouldn’t be surprising it he wasn’t given a few lessons on what should be done if something like this ever happened.

But it gives Fritz time to think. To jump at every little sound reverberating through the hallways he hadn’t noticed before. Following David, but feeling like he’s missing something if he’s in front instead of James. 

“Did you just arrive on site?” Fritz finally asks. Quietly because it feels wrong if he raised his voice anymore. Needing to talk. 

“I did, actually. We just transported a keter that’s no longer contained, but I had been on my way to find you guys when the siren started.” 

“Do we know why it happened?” David calls over his shoulder. 

“It came from the higher ups,” James all but growls. “I didn’t see any damage, didn’t feel the entire place shake from an explosion. And considering the lights and ventilation system is still functioning, there was a specific command put in to open all cells.” 

Fritz gasps as David suddenly stops again, crashing against the taller and stumbling back. He nearly trips over his own feet to fall onto the hard ground when James manages to catch his arm. He appreciates it considering that he should have expected such a reaction from that kind of revelation. That a site-wide containment breach was due to one of the O5 allowing it to happen. 

However, David doesn’t whirl around to demand more information. Doesn’t argue over why such a system was in place. The senior researcher’s attention locked onto the open doorway directly to their left. 

“There’s an SCP in that room.” 

...how does David know? Why is he acting so calm? It was said in such a nonchalant way Fritz has no time to process what it really means until James is already entering a room that was strictly meant for storing files and equipment and opening the next door.

Instead of revealing a small broom closet, there is an entire hallway identical to the one they stand in except for a closed brown door patiently waiting to be opened on the opposite side. 

“The repeating one moved?” David demands, the redhead too scared and stunned too protest being pushed behind the taller and further away from possibly getting locked in another dimension with no clear way out. 

James doesn’t respond as he closes the door, reaches into his belt, and attaches a small round metal plate to it. One with the Foundation’s symbol engraved on it, marking the door as the entrance to an anomaly. 

“It did.” The officer joins them back into the hallway as he looks back the direction they came to the direction they are going. “We need to move with a little more caution. And absolutely no closed in staircases.”

This is worse than they previously thought. Fritz assumed that while the doors to the cells opened, that didn’t mean any extra equipment was deactivated as well, meaning certain lights and emitters should still be functioning properly to hold certain things in place. This means everything has been turned off and anomalies that are better described as nothing more than a presence rather than a physical being can just move without a single warning. 

David glances down at the teenager by his side. “I can only sense SCP’s within a short radiance.” 

“Then I suggest we check corners before turning them.” 

Fritz doesn’t try to ask what they mean. He is all too aware this is getting worse by the minute. If he starts demanding answers now then he’ll be putting them all in danger. And if he starts panicking that will only distract and slow them down. Right now he just needs to trust the two doing everything in their power to getting them all out safely. 

He only nods to show agreement to the new rule alongside David. Then they hear what sounds like someone running as fast as they can. 

Fritz is already being pushed in the opposite direction of where the echoing noise is originating from as James reaches for his belt. It wasn’t nearly enough time, not when a man suddenly slides across the opening of the hallway they stand. Is on his feet a second and already sprinting in their direction. 

It’s clear they hadn’t been noticed previously when he made the turn. The moment he does is the same moment Fritz realizes he’s wearing a D-Class uniform and looking more fearful than hostile. 

“Run!” 

Both James and David doesn’t hesitate to heed the man’s frantic yell. Not when the overhead light of where he had been suddenly shatters, glass and sparks falling at the same time overwhelming darkness blankets a full ten feet of the hallway. Makes it seem as if there had been nothing there in the first place. 

Fritz is almost glad as he turns to run for his life, not wanting any reason to see what is chasing them.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Anomalies and Incident Reports

[rebelbyrdie]

2024 Ficlet Day

Ficlet 8ish?

Who wants a really old Warehouse 13 fic idea I had rattling around my hard drive?

Warehouse 13 Christmas Ep Rewrite

A Story idea/Pronpt by femvamp: I do not remember where or when this is from.

Story takes place during the Christmas episode. HG is still bronzed and must be unbronzed for whatever reason Pete using his knowledge of the future convinces her to help them stop MacPherson but she is who was during season two and is up to her old tricks and since things aren't quite so stable with Pete and Myka well.......

Must have at least two of the following

1. Pete and Myka heart to heart on why they are friends and partners and why it works.

2. HG being her evilish self...she wasn't exactly a good guy in season 2ish so I don't want her to be a hero but don't make her a villian either.

3. Myka being tempted to follow Helena to the dark side because hey she's tired of doing the right thing and it backfiring on her....this isn't the same Myka remember.....

4. Claudia a bit crazier then in the show,,,,but still smart as a whip.

I only got a little bit written. Pete escaping a Bizzaro land Warehouse with a newly debronzed a HG

In the split second he had to decide which direction to go, Pete got a feeling. Logic said he should go out the front and make a break for it. He had to find Artie, Claudia and especially Myka and the best way to do that was to get out of the Warehouse and use his formidable and completely awesome investigation skills. His gut, though, said go back into the Warehouse. He went with his gut. As he ran through the stacks of artifacts he thought. Artifacts, while confusing and dangerous, could also be used as tools or weapons.

Myka would know what to grab, so would Claudia and Artie. Pete should have really listened to Myka's many suggestions and Artie's orders to read the handbook and look through the archives. If he had flipped through it at least a couple of times maybe he would have a few useful ideas.

He ran at three-quarters speed through the aisles, sparing little time to look at the artifacts he was passing. He wasn't exactly sure how long he had before the Goon Squad caught up with him so he kept moving. Pete skidded around a corner and found himself in the Bronze Section. He had been taking twists and turns going mostly on his gut so he was sort of surprised that he had ended up here of all places. Then again, he smiled, McPherson had smuggled HG from here to the back door so-

His eyes swept across the still forms of the bronze statues from left to right and then right to left. He saw the same thing twice but still couldn't believe it, but there was no mistaking her familiar face for anyone else. Helena G. Wells was not someone you could forget. He stepped closer and almost reached out and touched her. The bronze was cold and he pulled his hand back quickly as if the touch had been some sort of betrayl, and maybe it was. More then betrayl, it was confusing. The last time he had seen Coo-Coo for Coca Puffs the regents had been hauling her out of the Warehouse. Well her body, at least, her hologram had come back in the hamster ball, but her body was somewhere else. For all he knew the Empire had her on the Death Star.

“Help us, Obi Wan, Kenobi, you're our only hope.”

Well actually, Pete chuckled at himself, she was more like Han Solo in carbonite. Except she was a woman and she didn't look like she was in pain or even scared. H.G. looked incredibly sad. Her hair was pinned up and she was wearing old clothes. Really old clothes. She was wearing a long skirt and a lacey grandma shirt that he'd definitly never seen on her before. Why would they change her clothes before re-bronzing her? Unless-

His gut twisted uncomfortably and the magnitude of his situation crashed down on him like the proverbial ton of bricks. In this bizarro land where up was down and left was bologna had H.G. never been un-bronzed in the first place? How was that even possible? Defrosting HG had been apart of McPherson's evil plan and he was here in the warehouse and Artie was not so it must have worked? Maybe this was a fake statue. He had unbronzed her but didn't want anyone to know that he had done so.

His gut insisted that this was the real HG. HG, super-steam-punk-secret-agent, who despite being out of time and completely and totally insane, was one of the smartest, most capable women and agents he had ever met. This kind of spooky, wierdo, confusing case was right up her ally. She and Myka would probably already have this whole thing figured out. Myka would chart out a color-coded plan and HG would invent some gadget out of a a gum wrapper and a bottle cap to make it all work. How could he and his gut compete with that? He wasn't dumb, he knew that. They didn't let dummies into the Secret Service. There was smart, though, and then there was genius and Pete knew very well that he was way out-classed in the brains department.

He stared into H.G.'s unblinking, bronze-cast eyes. This was one of the dumbest ideas he had ever allowed himself to think about and that was saying allot. If he did de-frost HG, though, he might have an ally in this crazy mess.

This was bonkers. Really and truly a bad idea. Unfortunatly, it was the only idea he had. Decision made, he walked around the statue, ignoring the short angry asian on one side of her and the snarling white guy on the other, and tried to figure out the best way to move her. Her arms were raised to go into the machine's manacles and made for convenient handholds. HG probably wouldn't appreciate the indignity of being dragged across the room like an old chair, but it was the best Pete could do. His back twinged and he grunted as he wrestled her into place in the bronzing machine.

The controls were, thankfully, simple and self explanatory. He appreciated the point-and-click approach the controls had because he hadn't exactly read the manual on the machine and didn't have time for a do-over.

“Here goes” He paused to think “um something.”

He hit the button and watched the machine hiss and smoke and couldn't help but be amazed at the fact that when the smoke cleared the bronze statue had been replaced with a living, breathing woman.

WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13

It was like being born again. The first sensation was the feeling of fresh air on her face. The second was a sound, the first sound she'd heard in however many years she had been bronzed.

“Holy crap.”

The next sensation was pain, incredible and crippling pain in her eyes. The manacles around her wrists released and without their support her knees gave way and she fell forward. Her first movements in years. Hands caught her shoulders and prevented her from swooning all the way to the floor. The sensation of being touched was indescribable. It was a sort of painful pleasure, her skin was tight and hyper-alert and even the smallest pressure was too much. Yet, it felt so good to touch something and especially someone that she didn't want it to stop.

“HG!”

There was the voice again, she would love to open her eyes and look at whoever was foolish enough to de-bronze her, but opening her eyes even a little resulted in intense pain.

“My eyes.”

Her first words ground out of her throat in a raspy-croak more befitting a frog then a woman.

“Um, yeah I guess everything is pretty bright.”

His, for it was most assuredly a man, voice was clear and had an unmistakably American accent. He guided her into a sitting position on the floor and then his hands left her body. She wanted to protest, she didn't want him to leave her alone, but she could scarcely make her mouth work. Sensations were assaulting her one after another and she was having trouble handling the sensory overload. She was cold, very cold. It was, she knew, a side effect of the bronzing process, but her knowledge did not stop her from shivering.

Where was she?

She had to be in the Warehouse, that was the only place that made sense. The question was when. What year was it? Why had she been unbronzed? Who was this mysterious man who referred to her by her pen-name?

“Hey”

The mystery man was back.

“Wrap yourself up in this, cause if its too bright in here for you it's really going to suck outside.”

Outside?

He wanted her to leave The Warehouse?

“Can you walk?”

Could she? Helena had no idea as she hadn't tried to walk yet. It sounded marvelous, though, absolutly wonderful. She longed to walk, to run, to hold her daughter.

Christina. The pain strangled her heart once again. No matter what year it was or what amazing scientific advacnes had been made in her absence, he daughter was still gone.

“C'mon, HG, we really need to get moving.”

She pulled the clothe around herself, careful to cover her head, and tried to stand. He helped her, for which she was grateful. She stood and felt a peculiar feeling of vertigo but she didn't fall. Now to walk. She had been doing it for most of her life. Christina's first toddling steps flashed through her mind and she reached to her neck where her locket should sit. There was nothing there, of course, they had taken her locket and ring along with her latest artifact acquisition when she was bronzed. She needed her things back.

“My locket.”

Her voice was still rough but the words came easier this time.

A blast, that sounded amazingly similar to a gunshot, echoed through the Warehouse and she was so startled that she did indeed take a step.

“We really need to go.”

He took her by the elbow and pulled her along beside him.

“We have to find the backdoor and get out of here.”

Helena fell into step with him and marveled at the sensation of moving her legs at her own behest. The muscles, bones and tissues moved with ease, and she couldn't help but smile under the clothe he had hidden her under.

“Stairs.”

She felt the metal staircase just as they reached it and stepped up accordingly.

What was very odd, she did not remember there being a staircase so close to the bronze quarter. Perhaps they had moved things about. Or she might not even be in Warehouse 12. That thought hit her quite hard. She had known that there would eventually be a Warehouse 13, 14, 15 and so forth, but the idea that she was in one of them was quite frightening.

“Ha! There you are!”

Helena had absolutly no idea what was going on and it both frightened and angered her. “I beg your pardon!”

They were moving faster now, which was probably a good thing because more gun-shots, Helena could not think of anything else they could be, were exploding around them.

“C'mon, HG, he tugged her through what felt like a door, “let's blow this popcicle stand.”

She wanted to, but didn't as it wasn't a prudent time to do so, ask what a popcicle stand was and why they would be blowing it.

In the space of fifteen minuites she had gone from being encased in bronze with only her own thoughts for company to being effectivly blind, covered in some yet unknown garment, being lead about by an American who made little to no sense and she was being shot at. Just another day at The Warehouse. It was good to know that somethings, no matter how peculiar they may be, did not change.

WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13

Pete hauled ass as fast as he could. Which wasn't as fast as he liked but he had to pull a half-frozen, covered with a dust clothe HG along with him. The back door lead to a cave and the cave lead to sweet sweet freedom. The South Dakota Badlands had never looked so good.

A white panel van was parked just outside of the back entrance. McPherson was probably using it to smuggle artifacts out of the Warehouse. Once a skuzz-ball always a skuzz-ball. He helped HG into the passenger seat and then ran around to the drivers side. He had his pocket knife in-hand ready to hotwire the van when he saw that the keys were hanging in the switch.

“Pete 3, Goon Squad Zippo”

Then he noticed that a lady's large leather handbag sitting between the driver and passenger seat. Usually he was very against stealing, but these were extinuating circumstances and the blonde woman gave him bad vibes so he only felt a little bad when he snagged the bag with one hand. Myka would punch him if she were there. He rummaged though the bag that was precariously balenced on his knee and was pleased to find a wallet complete with a cred t card that was tied to the seemingly endless Warehouse account. If he wasn't an agent in this crazy universe then his wouldn't work. As long as he didn't make large purchases no one would question his swiping the card. He threw a tube of lipstick over his shoulder and continued to dig though the purse. He grinned when his fingers found a very familiar object. He pulled the sunglasses out of the purse and then smirked at the very expensive name brand. She was on the take

The van started up on the first crank and he popped it into drive and they were on their way.

“Not to be rude,” HG spoke once more, “but what in the name of God is going on?”

Oh. Well, Pete mused, as he navigated the van down the rutted dirt road back towards civilization, that was a loaded question.

“What's the last thing you remember?”

She let out a very un-lady-like snort, “What do you think the last thing I remember was? I was bronzed.”

Well, Pete grinned, she hadn't changed much. That was the good news. The bad news was that whatever had whammied everyone had also effected HG.

“Okay so I-”

“Haven't told me who you are, where we are, what is going on or what year it is.”

Well those were good things to know, he supposed.

“My name is Agent Pete Lattimer and I work for Warehouse 13.”

He couldn't see her face as it was still covered by the dust clothe he'd grabbed off of a crate, but imagined she looked surprised.

“Warehouse 13.”

Pete gripped the steering wheel. He hadn't realized how hard this was going to be. When they'd finally run into HG she had seemed so well put-together and modern. She had been dressed normally and had acted like any other woman. Until had used her inventions to stick them to the ceiling, of course.

“You're in South Dakota, America and it's December 24th, 2010.”

It was, he realized, a lot of information to swallow. He had never thought about it before, not really. HG Wells was dragged into the future and shoved into this new world. From Victorian England to Post-Modern America with nothing in between, it had to be a little jarring.

“Um, I know this has to be confusing but there's more.”

The main road finally appeared ahead of them and Pete breathed a small sigh of relief. Now all he had to to do was stay ahead of the Goon Squad.

“Um so-”

How did he even begin to explain this to her? He hadn't thought this far ahead. Myka was more of the thinker and he was the doer. How was he going to explain HG to Myka?

“Wow, this is way more complicated then I figured it would be. The very long story short is that I think some artifact or something has effected everyone at The Warehouse and now we need to go assemble our team and take it back from McPherson before he auctions the artifacts off to the highest bidder.”

“Our team?” Her accented voice held questions that he wasn't exactly sure how to answer.

“That's the complicated part. This is the second time you've been debronzed. The first time you killed McPherson and worked with me and my partner as a Warehouse Agent again.”

“Oh.”

[lucy-dulap]

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest to?

Minhyeok is 3 years older than Lucy and his big brother is 7 years older than Lucy. So, kind of, but not really. Lucy was an only child before getting adopted so they don't have experience in that front either.

They're closest to Minhyeok to the point that it crosses even codependency. Lucy understands that Minhyeok started seeing them as a burden once he got into highschool, but they keep clinging to him because he's the only one they have.

2. What was your character's relationship with their mother like?

Lucy was quite young when their parents died, but even when they were alive Lucy didn't have the best relationship with them. They were in a legal dispute over their house and they didn't have that much time to spend with Lucy.

Their mother was disappointed that Lucy wasn't more feminine and she would constantly tell emberassing stories about Lucy while they were there.

The only found memory they have of their mom is her painting eggs for Easter and teaching them how to do it.

3. What was your character's relationship with their father like?

Same as above. The problem with their father was that he had anger issues and would constantly throw tantrums if things didn't work out or if he percieved any sort of disobedience from Lucy.

The found memory they have of him is them playing with their toys with their father. He would usually get bored and leave a few minutes in, but during those moments Lucy felt happy.

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamently changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

The death of their parents. I'll probably write a full fic about it, but the gist of it is that Lucy felt compeled to wake up and walk to the hallway where they saw their parents getting killed as they came back home.

The entire Kim family knows about it and that's why they took Lucy under their care instantly after the event. Lucy stopped being themselves once their parents died and they've tried to take their own life constantly. That's why the house is still baby proofed even though no babies are inside.

5. On an avarage day, what can be found in your character's pockets?

Old cupons, postit notes, reciets. They don't keep a lot in their pockets since they usually wear clothes that don't have them or that aren't large enough to hold anything but their thumb.

6. Does your character have reccuring themes in their dreams?

Pokémon competitive stratagies. They do them so often that their brain, even in sleep, desires to do damage calculations. They have woken up on multiple instances to write down EV spreads in the notebook they keep by their bed for these situations. Also floating for some reason. Like when in Minecraft you jump and stay in the air while on creative mode type of levitation.

7. Does your character have reccuring themes in their nightmares?

Minhyeok abandoning them or being angry with them or dissapearing from the face of the planet. The mere thought of it scares them, but the last thing they want to do is disappoint Minhyeok more than they already have. The dreams usually get almost narrated to them by a voice they've never heard and the message at the end is always that they should kill themselves to end everyones suffering and pay their dept to their parents.

It's Gabriel. He can't kill a kid, but he can try to make them kill themselves by distroying their psyche.

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

Minhyeok doesn't let them near small scissors and plastic knives, much less and actual weapon. They never fired a gun and they never will because Lucy knows that you don't need a firearm to cause ireversable injuries in people. They just need to get attached to that person and the bad luck will come without them having to pull the trigger.

9. Is your character's socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

They were born upper middle class and now they are still upper middle class. Lucy's still scared as fuck that they won't be able to afford food in the future though.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing or less clothing?

As much clothing as possible. I'm talking hoodie over sweater over long sleeved shirt. Lucy is very self conscious about every part of their body in different ways and they would rather be seen as ugly than have someone show interest in them for them to be disappointed by Lucy's body.

[weaselbeaselpants]

Lazy but basic soft redesign of the IMP crew, just to tone down some details

I wish I had more time to do more than trace over, but I had to rely on line art of the cast and going off the main color palette with screencaps to alter. I

Version 1, basic revision:

Version 2, my indulgent "redesign"...which is not my art so it's still just a lazy edit.

Moxxie = Yellow red(greed ring) | black markings (freckles and tail stripes) | wears fake ass drug dealer looking suit | wears a gangster's necktie alluding to Millie

Millie = Crimson(wrath ring) skin | maroon markings (scars) | tiny bodee but weird stub feet (under her jeans) | Wears outdoor work cloths worn from use | has a visible hanky hanging out her pocket alluding to Moxxie

Blitzo = ....sunburnt? red, as to hide what exact ring he comes from | white markings (vitiligo??) | hoves visible at the tip of feet | Skull decal is horse like to show off his love for horses | wears sleek, 'bad ass' looking clothing that makes him feel more threatening than he actually is.

Luna = Dark gray markings on arms and legs, the visible blip of 'cold' color in the other three's mostly warm palettes | visible claws on hands | flopped ears like a wolfhound, though otherwise resembles an elkhound still | wears her top, shorts, collar and piercings; her collar still binds her to Blitzo

For the specific 'redesign bits in version 2: All imps are as Viv's notes mention; a mix of vaguely reptilian and hooves. They are all different shades of red depending on what ring they come from which are almost entirely a singular color (greed = gold and bronz, wrath = redredred, pride = royal violet, lust = hot pink, gluttony = orange, envy = green, sloth = blue. Pentagram city, which is where Hazbin takes place, is in the center instead of the pride ring and is multiple colors). Hellhounds are legallypossessions though all higher hellborn on the chain consider those under them their 'possessions'; Most hellhounds walk on all fours w no clothes because they are considered familiars, not imps themselves, which marks Luna as different and is why she abuses Blitzo- she's essentially a slave no matter how nice her legal master is to her, and good on her (no references to real world slavery, obvious. But I mean, like, it's hell and it's a way to mark these characters as awful but endearing even when they're against one another, because it's fucking hell). Hellhounds also wear the marks of their owners, their sigil, as a tag. Though Imps are not allowed to leave hell ever and even sometimes forbidden to travel between other rings that aren't theirs. Imps still can not be harmed by fire or most mortal instruments-- however, hellborn are able to kill each other, with an immediate soulless death initiated through angel weaponry (the only thing that can actually eliminate sinners' souls). All demons can possess mortal things while on earth and can be driven out through 'exorcisms' = which is fanatical flailing that often kills the host. Because, again, this is hell and it's a show about demons so show me that possession comedy.

The biggest change with my redesigns of the HH/HB demons is giving the imps, succubi and hellhounds distinctively square pupils; cherubs have heart shaped pupils with gleamy over anime-eyes; goetia level demons and archangels can have completely pupilless eyes or whited out pupils; the seven sins and Charlies family have x-shaped pupils. Mortal humans have normal eyes. I think you can keep the deranged and over the top designing in tact w Vivziepop's work, it just needs come consistency.