#it's a fuckton of tear and wear at best

[tonyglowheart]

last night in this house... sleeping on air mattresses... still have leftover bits of stuff to move out in the morning.... so odd

[azurdlywisterious]

But Stranger Still Is...

AN: yeah this one's all over the place but in fairness Harvey's going through it. shit got hella truncated. once again heavily inspired by my actual playthrough (but obviously there's been some changes lol)

Word count: 1.8k (i went a little overboard haha)

CW: violence, alcohol, and spoilers for the side quest "Cold Case" (which I recommend playing first because harvey is not gonna do it justice) (or, like, accept that this random side quest will get spoiled)

I wasn't expecting Punk to give me what was in that box I got from the mines. Or at least, one of the things by what I managed to catch a glimpse of.

"Here," he hands me a boxing glove. "Something for your troubles."

"Thanks," I respond, putting the glove on. My sickle and knife are close to being goners, so it's time for a switch.

I go upstairs to swap out my arsenal, deciding that this bone I snagged of a snazzy-dressed scorched might be fun to use.

Before I head out on my most recent excursion, I take the time to test out this new boxing glove on some scorched that have moved in to my amusement park.

It works incredibly well. I honestly love it. I thought it would be a bit too big for my hand but it feels rather nice. And I will say it is satisfying to see those scorched go down by nothing but my fists. This thing must be modded in some way. I'll look at it at a workbench later. For now, it's time to go pay Grafton a visit.

I... get a bit... distracted and take many, many, side trips on my way to Grafton. Trips like defending a giant teapot from bugs and wolves and fucking irradiated toads with some other vault dwellers, poking around Morgantown again and finding some weird alcoholic drink that glows like a Nuka-Cola Quantum, and thinking I could kill three snallygasters at once all by myself. All the while punching my way through everything with my new boxing glove. I almost forget about the giant bone poking out of my backpack.

On the way there, I see an abandoned prison. At least, I thought it was abandoned until I got closer. A group of super mutants guard the gate. I'm stronger than I was before, and they've already spotted me, so it's go time.

Using my new glove I punch them as hard and as fast as I can. Which is pretty fast. I manage to get them separated so I take them down pretty easily. I take a stimpack for the pain and push onward.

I opt for stealth and move through one of the prison buildings. I want to save my glove in case there's any more super mutants outside, so I grab my long forgotten about bone to take out some ghouls roaming amongst the sell block.

I knew ghouls were squishy, but this bone one shots them. Looks like this bone is now the designated ghoul slayer.

I make it to the other end of the building, not even tired from fighting the ghouls. This bone certainly is something.

I exit the building and only make it a few feet before getting ambushed by a fuckton of super mutants with miniguns that start turning me into swiss cheese the second I enter their crosshairs. I try punching them but the glove unravels from the wear and tear of constant use. I only barely duck back into the building and barricade it, bleeding out and crying. I lay down on one of the cots and sob. Next to my head, I see a blinking light. It's an old prisoner collar, though it looks like all the residual power inside only goes towards making the red light on it blink. I decide to put it on. It's a good a nightlight as any out here. I take a stimpack and rest my eyes, hoping that when I wake up I can find a way out of this place alive.

My nightmares are purple once more, only broken up by strangely yellow tattered fabric.

I wake up from my nap as well rested as I always do, by skin dry from the salt of my tears encrusting my face. I decide to avoid them altogether and go back the way I came and a wide path around. No more super mutants. I cling to that bone. At this point, it's the best weapon in my arsenal. I stealth my way through Grafton to find the mayor sending out a help request over the radio.

Why am I not surprised that the mayor is a robot? I mean, with the citizens of Grafton being killable abominations that want my head, it makes sense. But I want to rebuild the country for my parents, and that includes Grafton. So, I agree to get the attractions spruced up for the Grafton mayor.

First on my list is getting the water flowing at Wavy Willards. Detoxifying the water is someone else's job I guess. I'd do it if I knew how to detoxify an area my PipBoy labels Toxic Valley. Even the damn soot flowers are bleached here.

After beating some scorched to death with ease with my beloved Bonetrousle, I hear a new noise amongst the park: the distinct French accent of a Miss Nanny.

Her name is Annie, and she wants me to find her charge, a young boy named Freddy that was abducted before the war. The hunting lodge and shooting range can wait. Finding out what happened to this kid is more important.

After learning all I can about the case at the park and Clarksburg, the trail leads me to the Grafton Dam. The kid's a brat, by the way, but also very much just a child, albeit a spoiled on. I won't fault Freddy for how he acted. He probably doesn't even know better.

At the dam, I catch sight of some super mutants. I don't think I have the necessary anything to kill these things. But I can't go back emptyhanded. I have to take this dam. Heh. The Battle of Grafton Dam. Fighting over a dam? Imagine.

But here I am, Bonetrousle in hand, absolutely dominating on this battle field. These are chump change super mutants, or I'm just getting better. Did I gulp down a bottle of vodka before this fight? I can't remember. Too much blood.

My trail ends at the ruins of a manor Freddy once called home. There, I find the frightened note of a child unaware that war is rising on the horizon like the morning sun. He’s afraid of the unknown, afraid of where the the men his rich mother paid for are taking him. If he didn’t escape again like he did at the dam, then there’s no doubt that he made it to the vault his mother paid for. I wonder which one. Maybe I met this Freddy, once, years ago in Vault 76. Maybe he taught me how to tie knots. Maybe he showed me how to make different traps. Maybe he saw me in my tween years and laughed good naturedly at my pretentious love of big words and psychology. Maybe he asked about my scars. Maybe, deep down, he believed me, but never said so to my face.

I clutch the note tightly. Annie will want to see this. Hopefully, it brings her comfort.

I return to the waterpark one last time to give Annie all that I found. I was not expecting a sweet Miss Nanny to give me a fucking shotgun for my troubles, but after shooting it a few times I can tell this bad boy hits like a truck. Now, with some modifications…

I make it back to my base and pour over this gun at my weapons workbench. I have plenty of scrap and a surprising amount of knowledge on how to make this gun even better. To top it all off, I found a decal set a long while back that turns out to fit this gun perfectly. Now emblazoned with card suits, I christen it The Game Rigger.

Just as I finish up, Punk visits me on my mostly empty third floor. And he says to me, “I’ve got another job for you, if you’re up to it.”

I grin wildly. “What’s the job?”

“Standard rescue mission. Nothing you can’t handle after everything you’ve faced out there.”

“Alright,” i rack the Game Rigger. “I’m on it.”

“I knew you would be.”

He marks the spot for some radio tower on my map and I head off.

"Don't forget to grab orange juice while you're out!" I hear him call after me as I begin my trek.

The radio tower must be guarded by something. I could've asked, but I like the surprise.

I wish I asked. In front of me is a whole slew of Super Mutants. I've since repaired my boxing glove, but that didn't take them out as fast as I wanted to last time. I manage to sneak onto the roof of the station. Game Rigger, you're up!

I get a few shots off, but these things are eating the bullets, and the noise is bound to attract others. I have to take them out faster than a gun can do it in.

Bonetrousle, now is your time to shine.

I bulrush the super mutant and start wailing on him with this club sized bone. He goes down in mere seconds, unable to even fire his gun due to how close I am to him.

I manage to take out all the orcs outside without even breaking a sweat. Okay, that's a lie. There were some stimpacks that got used.

I get inside, only to be met by the meanest looking super mutant I have ever seen. A super mutant that looks like he's seen some shit, but (unlucky for him) so have I.

Just as he starts to demonstrate his superior strength and battle prowess, I hear Julie announce cheerily on the radio that the next song is gonna be "Atom Bomb Baby" by the Five Stars.

I feel invigorated by this song. All the experience in the world can't top a being of pure rage and spite screaming out the lyrics of a song about the world's strongest firecracker. It's like psycho in music form, honestly.

I fell the beast, the remainder of "Atom Bomb Baby" singing out from just my PipBoy now as I loot the body. Good shit too, but nothing that tops Bonetrousle.

I turn my gaze to the hostage, unaware of how much blood is truly staining my skin. He cowers as I approach him.

"The super mutants are dead," I tell him, my voice a touch horse from the screaming. "Once I free you from these restraints, you'll be free to go."

"What are you?" he asks me, whimpering. "There's no way you're human."

"Stranger things exist out here," I tell him, effortlessly cutting through his restraints with a jagged shard of glass, "then angels made for vengeance."

He quickly jumps up and races for the door, but before he leaves he must have remembered some manners from long ago and tells me, "Thanks. For saving my life."

I nod. He leaves. I pop open a beer and drink it alone, sitting in a pool of blood, before leaving myself to go back home.

[theajaheira]

ok you know what i think it’s actually really vital that i talk a little bit about tea time. buckle up kiddos.

first off, a brief and relatively spoiler-free summary: the premise of the issue is very simple. the kiddos (aged up, if willow’s mention of being engaged is any indication) are hanging out in the library to help giles with research, swapping stories about what it would be like were giles a vampire. each of them, save giles, gets a chance to tell a detailed story -- xander tells two! -- and each story plays out in a way that says a lot about the scooby that’s telling it AND the way they view giles.

obviously this is a VERY character-driven issue, and it’s a really really interesting look at giles and how he is perceived as well! shit like that is my bread and butter, so this has honestly become one of my favorite things that boom has put out -- possibly my ACTUAL top favorite issue if we’re being real here. 

below the cut is a spoilery dissection of every story told -- a literal summary of Every Single Thing that happens in this issue, as well as what it has to say about the scoobies and their perception of giles, so definitely keep that in mind.

as can be seen in the preview, xander’s first story is about giles rising from the grave as an ineffectual british caricature, who is easily defeated by smoldering, sexy xander harris (and xander in turn walks off with buffy and willow draped all over him, cooing about how amazing he is). it’s more of an intro to the premise than anything, but it still sets the tone pretty clearly wrt how xander handles this situation: there’s some laughter and levity, and he’s center stage. obviously a lot can be said about xander’s self-esteem issues and how he overcompensates by casting himself as the main protagonist both in canon and here. however, i wanna save my more in-depth xander analysis for his second, longer, story, so i’ll stop myself there.

willow immediately responds with skepticism: she’s of the mind that giles would be an incredibly serious big-bad level threat. the tale she spins involves giles as a dangerous vampire cleric with access to a cryptic altar, killing xander almost immediately and slaughtering buffy as a sacrifice to create eternal night. her view of giles is more clinical than anything -- and, i would argue, the most perceptive and realistic from a threat standpoint. the guy knows a fuckton of magic and he is incredibly well-read and powerful. he’d have some kind of terrifying master plan. where xander goes for comedy, willow goes straight for logistics, already looking at the battle like it’s a battle rather than laughs aplenty. 

xander and buffy have a bone to pick with willow’s story (xander is indignant that he’s immediately and brutally killed, buffy is of the mind that she would easily defeat giles in hand-to-hand combat even if he IS a vampire), so (after one more teasing story where buffy lives and xander dies) willow gracefully alters her narrative to reflect her friends’ objections: after a dramatic tussle, xander helps willow and buffy unceremoniously stakes giles in the heart. still pretty straightforward and plausible. willow sees vamp giles primarily as a threat -- one not easily neutralized. one who could easily wipe them out.

buffy, about to tell her story, is interrupted by xander, who “had an even better idea!” the web he weaves is this time purported as realistic and entertaining: while partying at the bronze, buffy and co. are interrupted by a bunch of balding, greying vampires in curlers and bathrobes, led, of course, by giles -- who is wearing a hair bonnet and disapprovingly informing the bouncers how late it is at eight PM. a knockdown brawl breaks out at the bronze -- old people feeding on and decimating the young -- and culminates in giles and the geezers taking over the band to sing “some terrible song” that’s “probably something really old and bad!” the rest of the story descends into b-movie chaos, with buffy throwing a broken guitar neck up at the stage lights to send the whole thing crashing down onto vampire giles and his vampire old person band. it’s categorically absurd.

the thing that really sticks with me about this story is how dumb it is. xander’s take on giles is not even slightly serious and wholly underestimates him. fandom at large talks a lot about how giles dropped the ball with xander, but i think tea time explores an easily overlooked factor: xander constantly, consistently underestimates giles. in canon, xander’s view of giles is not often challenged: to him, giles is a bumbling, british librarian who regularly gets his ass handed to him by vamps and demons and the like. certainly part of his story’s intent is about laughingly entertaining his gal pals, but there’s a very real and consistent thread involving giles being hilariously nonthreatening. 

giles, taking umbrage at this particular tale, calls out both xander and willow: xander’s story, in giles’s opinion, emasculates vamp giles and turns him into a ridiculous caricature -- and willow’s story, though much more flattering, lacks the kind of imagination that vamp giles would clearly have. he then offers a suggestion of his own. it’s worth mentioning here that both xander’s and willow’s stories get gorgeous multiple-page spreads depicting the vampy action, but giles’s is a simple and chilling little thing: this is his vampire story. this meeting, called to ostensibly “research” a vampire altar, is really an excuse to get the scoobies to do his dirty work and find the thing for him. they’re tired and silly because the tea and donuts he’s given them are drugged, and their library location is to keep them out of daylight. he laughs it off when he sees they’re bothered, and the meeting is then adjourned when willow finally finds what they’re all looking for. 

buffy’s left her phone in the library, so she doubles back, and accidentally wakes up a dozing giles. just as she’s about to leave, he inquires, casually, “...you never did tell your version of the story.”

and good god here is where it gets interesting.

see, buffy’s take is simple: she’s fighting giles in a cemetery, she’s given the chance to kill him, and she is entirely unable to do it. they share a tearful embrace as she sobs about the unfairness of it all -- “you’re giles! and you’ll always be! ...how will i do this without you? without your guidance?” and as the sun is rising, giles turns her into a vampire, with no resistance whatsoever from buffy. the next handful of pages depict bloody, indulgent violence on the parts of giles and buffy, the two of them cuddled up together as they watch the world burn. 

buffy’s tale is the most emotive, the most loving, which makes me so damn soft! i love this girl so much! she is unable to even joke about giles as a foe to be taken down -- he is her watcher. he is her friend. she loves him endlessly and that does not change when he’s a vampire. vamp giles as she portrays him is gentle and understanding, holding her as she cries, because he knows that they’re connected. it’s easily my favorite part of this whole issue.

notably, there is a definite buffy/giles bend that the comic itself tries to contradict. the art is sensual in nature -- vamp buffy all dolled up in a way somewhat evocative of drusilla, giles tenderly caressing her face as he waits for her to wake up. “watcher and slayer connected forever” being the quote chosen to describe the situation. i think it’s kind of what naturally happens in a vamp giles sitch, especially if he turns buffy -- the childe/sire bond is incredibly sexual in nature, especially in canon, and a lot of frustrating human sentiment gets translated into something sexual as well. sex is a big BIG part of the relationships between vampires we see in canon; it would make a lot of sense for that to hold true for buffy and giles.

the comic is reticent about Going There, which i can understand -- though buffy is decisively aged up in this issue (willow mentions being engaged to a woman, later revealed to be tara), the buffy/giles bond is always seen through a father/daughter lens in canon. i do think it’s also important to always recognize how desperately giles wishes to escape the label of father in reference to buffy, pretty much entirely because there is no way to parent a child soldier who you’re also training, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish. point is, buffy very pointedly refers to vamp giles as her father not once, but twice -- once as a human, once as a vampire herself. it’s a very clear attempt, imo, to un-sexualize the vampy experience. the reason it doesn’t totally work, at least for me, is the fact that -- like i said -- the childe/sire bond is VERY sexual (spike and dru, angel and darla, angel and dru) and it seems just totally implausible that vamp buffy/vamp giles (two people who, as human were both VERY repressed) would chastely remain within the socially acceptable version of their relationship.

i can definitely understand why they did their best to blur that line, though. the idea of buffy and giles being romantically involved as vampires is 1) Kind Of A Lot and 2) not exactly the target demographic that i think this comic is going for. but the subtext is there, to the point where the issue itself has to actively obfuscate it, which i think is .... so interesting? especially as a counterpoint to the way i often see buffy/giles in fandom, wherein the father/daughter subtext in canon is at times actively obfuscated in fic in an attempt to push a preferred reading. 

the ending i particularly enjoyed: after buffy leaves, it is lightly and ambiguously implied that giles might really be a vampire. works GREAT as a standalone, imo, and the end is like the cherry on top. it’s a really REALLY interesting issue and i highly recommend it for any giles fan. 

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA MEAN GIRLS AU

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the film) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, bribery, immoral deals, bullying, homophobia, outing, transphobia, violence, abortion, teen pregnancy, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Regina) Five is the king of this school, and he has no plans to give up that position. He needs it to protect his people, as few and far between as they are, and himself, if he’s honest - he’s a trans and ace-aro kid in platonic love with the health class mannequin who he calls Dolores. Ruling with fear is basically all he can do. While he’s mean, you’ll soon realize that everything he says is more of a blunt observation that will improve your life if you just heed his advice. He doesn’t respect almost anybody - not the jocks, theatre geeks, nerds, cheerleaders, band kids - no one. However, if he does respect you, you have his trust and protection. And as a thirteen-year-old genius who only takes advice from always-slightly-drunk art teacher Agnes, his protection is pretty damn valuable: the last person who tried to hurt one of his people will never walk again. Leonard Peabody - he assaulted Vanya, and he paid. Five beat him to the point of hospitalization without getting a single speck of blood or bruise on himself, and Leonard’s the one who walked away in handcuffs. Do not fuck with any of Five’s people, or you have to fuck with Five. And you do not want to fuck with Five.

(Gretchen) Vanya is quiet and subdued, to the point where people question how she’s a part of the school’s most popular trio. If you talk to her for long enough though, it becomes clear: she knows any and everybody’s secrets. She writes for the school paper, and is known to write the stories her subjects don’t want anyone else to find out about. Like Diego, who she outed as bisexual last year to throw people off the trail of her own secret relationship with Sissy, earning her an ex-girlfriend and an ex-friend. She’s been trying to win Diego’s forgiveness ever since, but he won’t talk to her, returning every single one of her letters and gifts. (He’s blocked her number and all of her socials, which she only created to talk to him anyway.) She doesn’t know why Five keeps her around - Klaus loves to gossip, but Five never seems to want any of her secrets. She’s pleasantly surprised to find out that he apparently actually enjoys her company. (What?)

(Karen) Klaus is a fucking mess. He plays the dumb blonde (well, brunette) despite being a genius in his own right, even if he’s not at Five’s level. (To be fair, he’s pretty sure no one is.) He’s a drag queen on the weekends, a hangover from his time in the mafia gang, which he joined with his boyfriend Dave for six months after running away from home. Dave died in a gunfight, and Klaus has been fucked up (well, more than usual) ever since. Anorexia, PTSD, anxiety, depression, self-harm, suicidal ideation, the works. But as lonely as he is, addicted to a fuckton of hard drugs and liquors to cope, he’s still an alluring, aloof, and bubbly popular girl, wearing pink skirts and glittery heels and leather corset crop tops to school every day. No matter how much his father Reginald beats him for it, he keeps being himself, because he’s brave and because even if Reginald hates him, someone far more important loves him… Diego. Diego, who Klaus has kissed under a million stars and in the lollipop shop down the road and on top of a cafeteria table. Diego, who Klaus has chased through the rain and into the street without rest or hesitation. Diego, whose words and promises and scribbles are immortalized on Klaus’ skin for all to see. Diego, who Klaus will love no matter how much bigotry they encounter or dickwads they’re beat up by or miles they put between them. Diego, Klaus’ ex-boyfriend.

(Cady) Allison is the new girl, and she has plans for the advantage being underestimated has brought her. She challenges Five on her first day there, earning his respect, and joins his group at the urgings of Klaus and Vanya, who like her company. A fashion queen, she acts as though she’s unfazed by any and everything, but nobody knows her true heartbreak - she still writes letters to a girl back home. Allison was expelled from her Christian private school for falling in love with a girl named Natalie, who she kissed in janitors’ closets and who she beat up racist and homophobic blondes for. She has no tolerance for bullies, and yet becomes one under Five’s guidance - until she upends his reign as queen bee and signs her death warrant. (Though she later finds out he was more angry at her for stealing Klaus and Vanya’s affection than his popularity.) Now her only hope for happiness in her final days is Ray, the Shakespeare-quoting nerd in her English class… or Luther, the quiet dork in the Star Trek t-shirts in her math class. Fuck, she misses Natalie.

(Aaron) Luther is the posterboard for toxic masculinity. He’s on the football team but hates it, preferring his math tutoring and fantasy books to tackling drills. His bisexuality is his deepest secret - he once slept with Diego when they were drunk at a party after a football game, and he can’t get it out of his head. He keeps thinking about what might happen if somebody found out - would he be shunned like Diego? Trapped like Vanya? Plastic like Klaus? He doesn’t know. All he can do is continue to be kind and hope Allison loves him enough to love every part of him, beyond his good lucks and British accent and fucking Ray. So Luther stands up to Five, and pays the price. He compliments Klaus on his skirts, and pays the price. (Diego seems to simultaneously love and hate him for it, it’s confusing.) He holds the door open for Ben, and pays the price. He’s big enough to be scary, kind enough to be overlooked - but after that incident with Vanya, everyone looks at him like he’s a monster to be locked up. And soon enough, “star student” Luther, “teacher’s pet” Luther, “completely under the principal’s thumb and completely friendless and completely terrified of the world around him” Luther might just break under all that pressure.

(Janis) Diego is the school’s resident outcast and rebel punk - he wears skirts and fishnets and whatever the fuck he wants because if Klaus taught him anything when they were dating it was that gender is a construct and he looks hot in leather. They broke up when Diego was outed and Klaus chose to stay quiet when people started shunning Diego for it, but despite it all, Diego still loves him. He misses when they used to paint their nails together, because he has to paint his own now. They used to stare up at the stars together and fall asleep in the grass, curled up in each other, on the nights that Klaus would run away in terror from his dad and Diego would breathe with him and let him press his hand against his heart until Klaus’ panic died down. His heart still flutters when he sees Klaus smile around a lollipop… but he won’t take him back. He won’t. He just can’t forgive him. So instead, he talks to his mom about everything. He plays soccer with his sister Eudora. He paints shit while smoking weed with his best friend Lila. He thinks of Luther being scared of him and laughs. You know, he was almost in Allison’s position freshman year - Five loved him, and so did Klaus and Vanya, but then Vanya outed him to the whole school for no reason like a day before he and Klaus were going to come out together. And now they’re all estranged, and Diego has the strangest feeling that he’s lost his family, even though his mom is the only real family he’s ever known. But maybe he’s wrong. Because Klaus keeps sending him “anonymous” letters, leaving them on the porch and spilling secrets Diego never even would’ve imagined him having. But forgiveness is still a question - that is, until one day Diego gets a letter in a different handwriting: Five’s, telling him to man the fuck up and love Klaus before he kills himself trying to tear the stars down for Diego’s own personal pleasure, and suddenly, Diego is crying on his porch in the rain, missing a slender, sassy skeleton in his arms and a pink, bruised but unbroken heart in his chest.

(Damien) Ben is everyone’s favorite, and the kindest person in the world. He used to be Klaus’ best friend, but that ended when Ben got into an accident (there was a bus involved, that’s all you need to know) that landed him in a wheelchair and Klaus couldn’t deal with the mental pain it caused him. They still stare at each other longingly from across the cafeteria, but never say a word to each other, not even in class. But beyond Klaus, Ben has never had any friends, though he has a million aquaintances: he’s the only student in the school that everyone loves and respects. Five holds the door for him, though Ben can tell without having to ask that Five would rather nobody know that. He hangs out with Diego because he knows Diego’s lonely, even if he never wants to admit it. He advises Allison not to let anyone control her, telling her he knows Natalie from summer camp and that the deaf girl still loves her and reads every single one of her letters. He gives Vanya his lunch when she skips to cry in the gym after Diego yells at her, even though a part of him might think she deserves it sometimes. He plays sports with Luther after school and offers him an ear and some jokes about his problems, and a few touchdowns when he’s feeling good. He acts as Ray’s student consultant, because he knows how hard Ray works to treat him like an equal. He tutors Eudora in basically everything, but cuts study sessions short to play video games when he can tell she’s too stressed to think. He’s ace and pan and proud about it; he runs the school’s GSA; he defends Diego and uses the right pronouns for Lila when they’re alone without Lila ever having to him he’s trans. He bugs Reginald’s office in one of their many meetings and records enough conversations to get him fired when he tries to expel Five. And finally, karma rewards him - Klaus shows up at his house with a box of brownies he baked himself, all covered in smiley faces, and shoves them into Ben’s hands, shaking his head when Ben assumes they’re for Diego. I miss you, Klaus tells him, and Ben tugs him down into a kiss, pulling away with a stammered apology. I’m sorry, he blushes, and Klaus beams, leaping into his lap and hugging him closer than ever, the two of them queerplatonic partners from then on, forever linked by their fingers in the hallway. Happy. Finally.

Lila is the shy artsy kid who carries around one of those leather brown satchels that looks threatening but is really just code for “I think I’m too cool for a backpack so I stuff all my incorrect homework and favorite comic books into this sack of knockoff pig skin instead”. He’s covered in paint most of the time, and wears Alice in Wonderland combat boots and Sharpie-doodle-covered jeans and big black hoodies and soft grey beanies; he’s trans and hacked off his own hair until an undercut with choppy slash bangs and there’s pink streaks in them, of course, to match the bubblegum he’s always chewing. His nails are bitten and black, and his skin is decorated with tattoos that are almost exclusively Bo Burnham quotes, with the exception of Diego’s name right over his heart. (Diego has Lila’s name over his too - and Klaus’ and Eudora’s, though he’d never tell them that.) He gives his skirts to Klaus and gets along well enough with Five, them both being trans and all, and everyone else knows him as that kid who’ll spread rumors and steal things for bribes. It’s not like he can get in more trouble than he’s already in - he lives with his bigoted and abusive bitch of a mom. But Diego is his best friend - the one he shoots and stabs things with, the one whose ex-boyfriend he talks to because Diego will never admit to himself that he misses Klaus like he would his own lungs if they were torn from his chest, the one whose sister he’s in love with. Wait. Fuck. Oops.

Eudora is Diego’s sister, and the captain of the soccer team. She wears her red jersey with the white numbers to school every day, and is covered in tattoos of magical creatures, because she believes in all of them. She wishes she was a werewolf, and has dressed up as one every year for Halloween since she was ten. (And she’s let anyone dressed a werewolf give her a hickey just in case that turned her. It’s good to have all your bases covered.) She has a broken down pick-up truck named Travis-Trevor-Thomas-literally-any-other-T-name that she loves beyond belief, and drives Diego to and from school in it, though he grumbles about it every day. She eats lunch with him even though he insists he’s fine eating alone and wants her to go away, because she knows he’s lying, and she hangs around the GSA with him sometimes too. She’s lab partners with her brother’s “secret” ex-boyfriend, and is concerned by how quiet he is - she’s seen enough documetaries to know that quiet never means anything good. But unfortunately, she has her own academic drama to deal with - Hazel and Cha-Cha hate her for helping Klaus, and she hates them right back, leading to failing grades in both English and history no matter how brilliant her work is. Mostly, though, Eudora tries to get to know Lila - the pretty, angry, sarcastic emo boy she shares half her classes with, and flirts with every day despite how he ignores her. (ONLY because Lila still smiles and laughs every time she flirts with him, and Eudora knows from Diego that Lila thinks Eudora only flirts with him because it’s some sort of game of “if you get the guy who’s hard to get you win the hundred dollar bet” deal. Otherwise she would’ve backed off immediately because not doing so would be harassment.) Eventually, though, Eudora runs off-field in the middle of a soccer game and over to the stands to ask Lila to prom. Finally, she gets a yes - and, most importantly, a real smile, curled against her own mouth like a Cupid’s bow of promise.

Sissy is Vanya’s ex-girlfriend, and Fuckwad Carl’s current girlfriend. She hooked up with him after breaking up with Vanya, too drunk to even speak, and now her belly’s ballooning and her parents are gonna kick her out unless she marries him like a good Christian woman. And she really didn’t expect herself to tell them to fuck off for this one, but apparently lesbianism makes you do crazy things - so here she is, standing on Ray’s porch in the pouring rain and hoping for the best. She’s depressed and shows that by reading the Bronte sisters; Klaus opens the door for her and brings her notes with doodles all over them which makes her cry; she misses Vanya but hates her for what she did to Diego. And yet Vanya’s there when she goes to the abortion clinic, smiling and joking and holding her hand like always. One day she’ll have a baby and she and Vanya will raise it right, but fuck - that baby sure as hell won’t be Carl’s. (Because fuck that guy.)

Ray is a humanitarian, so, naturally, he’s also the student council president. Five has never mistreated him, because everyone loves and respects Ray, even his critics. He nurtures Allison’s intelligence and encourages Vanya’s musical habits. He tutors Klaus in basically every subject but never talks down to him because he knows the kid’s a genius, just a bit spacey from all the drugs (and the ADHD, let’s be honest). He helps bring Luther out of his shell and takes Lila out shopping for boy clothes, all of which he pays for himself. He’s not scared or offended by Diego’s sarcasm or intensity, instead greeting him every day in class with a new dad joke. He treats Ben to intelligent conversation like an equal and doesn’t let Five be so harsh he’ll regret it later, though he still lets him say what he means and be himself. Everybody knows he’ll be the real President one day - even if for now he wears pajamas to school every day because, in his words, “Clothes are just too much fuckin’ work, man.” (There’s a possibility he may have still been high from hanging out with Klaus that day.)

The Handler is the evil physics teacher. (I don’t know why I said evil clearly all science teachers are evil.) (Yes this is coming from a place of aggression but hey at least I recognize that.) (Plus he deserves it. So fuck you.) (*sticks tongue out*) (Don’t you see how mature I am?) (I’m sorry I’m sorry back to your regularly scheduled programming -) She’s Lila’s mom, and continually and constantly misgenders him (and Five!) in class, not even because she hates trans people, just because she hates him (and Five!). Five always challenges her dictatorial rule, refusing to participate in solidarity with Klaus when she forces Klaus to sit out for wearing skirts. She keeps trying to flunk Ray too, the little bitch, but he just keeps doing so well that she can’t even come up with a falsely plausible reason to fail him! She’s been bribing Hazel and Cha-Cha to flunk certain students for years, unaware that Lila has been stealing from the Handler’s own purse to double those prices for those students to ace their classes. Everybody hates her, and for good reason. I hope she gets fired. (Shut up and let me project onto fictional characters, assholes.)

Reginald is the evil principal and Klaus’ abusive dad. He sends Klaus to school every day in a boys’ “uniform”, which Klaus has to change out of in the bathroom every day with borrowed clothes from Allison. (Anything he owns lives at her house; they have an agreement.) Once Klaus forgot to wash off his nail polish before Reginald came home and he broke all of Klaus’ fingers one by one. (Agnes wants to beat him into dust with a rolling pin.) Klaus stays at Diego’s house a lot, though Klaus refuses to come after they break up even though Diego makes it clear that his door will always be open. Five, therefore, is super protective of Klaus - every time he comes over, he’s super respectful when Klaus is in the room and then verbally rips Reginald to shreds as soon as he’s gone. He once stayed over for an impromptu sleepover when he noticed that Klaus was terrified-ly coming up with more and more ridiculous excuses for Five to stay and not leave him alone with Reginald, and as soon as Klaus was asleep, tiptoed around the house to set up bugs and cameras he got from Ben. He gives all of the evidence to Eudora to deliver to the police, who arrest Reginald and leave him to rot in a cement cell for the rest of his sorry fucking life while Klaus goes on to live Happily Ever After because fuck you and your stupid as shit traditionalism and inhumane experiments you lying scheming fuckwad of a psychopathic monster toad.

Hazel is the exhausted English teacher. His secret? He hates every book he teaches. Also he’s been taking bribes from the Handler and Lila because teachers don’t get paid enough in our society. Also his wife Agnes of twenty years divorced him a year ago for the whole bribery situation and he’s been sleeping in his car and using the school’s facilities to appear fine. Yeah, Hazel’s a mess. ANYWAY - Five is the only one who seems to know what’s going on, and Hazel would like to keep it that way. He knows Klaus is a genius with words but doesn’t know how to tell him that, and he knows Diego’s favorite book is Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen and has agreed to take that secret to his grave. (What, it’s a good book!) His class is the only place Diego and Klaus dare to interact, and he’s noticed - they often pair up for assignments and take to the floor or beanbags in the corner, often cuddling up and giggling over whatever book or assignment they’ve been sent off to read or do. Hazel also has another hopeless couple he teaches, Lila and Eudora - eventually Hazel starts leaving Lila’s sappy poems about Eudora on Eudora’s desk when she comes in for her own class (separate from Lila’s) because there is no other way those two idiots are getting together, let’s be honest. There’s just too much communication. Mostly Hazel misses his own wife, Agnes - but he’s been out of luck since he cashed it in with the science department, hot cocoa whore that he is.

Cha-Cha is the history teacher, and she has all the sass and dry sarcasm required for that job. She will beat a bitch up for telling her she can’t teach critical race theory, and plays Drunk History and Overly Sarcastic Productions in her class basically every day. She doesn’t believe in tests because if she did she’d have to grade them, and she likes animated kids’ movies and TV shows, especially Paw Patrol and Sofia the First. (Yes, obviously she’s single. She’s also ace-aro, so who the fuck cares.) She takes the Handler and Lila’s bribes because she runs an underground wrestling ring and would like to continue feeding her pitbulls gourmet food. The only kid she’s truly on edge with is Five, who often challenges her in debates - she can’t decide if she’s impressed or enraged about it. Whatever. School’s out, bitches.

Agnes is the art teacher who knows everything about everybody. All of her art is of donuts. (Of course.) She’s a damn good cook, especially of pizza - and donuts. (Naturally.) She always has munchkins available for her students - and donuts! (She always saves the chocolate glazed and jelly ones for Five and Klaus.) She likes to rap explicit beats in her car and play her music so loud it shakes the ground and you can hear it from miles away. (Obnoxious.) So she doesn’t restrict her kids’ projects because that’s not what art is about. (And because it would make her a hypocrite, obviously.) Sure, she divorced Hazel, but hey - she’s living her best life, and eventually he’ll come to his senses and come crawling back to her at three a.m. to badly lipsync a Justin Bieber song about missing her, and she’ll leap out the window into his giant hairy arms and kiss him on his ginormous teddy bear face. Because Agnes, at heart, is a hippy. (And that’s love, bitch.)

Grace is Diego and Eudora’s (and everybody’s!) mom. She goes out for drinks with Agnes on the weekends and to clubs with Pogo every Friday (the librarian/unofficial therapist who acts as her mouthpiece when Diego does something stupid and won’t listen to her advice, the moron). She’s kind to everyone, but takes no one’s bullshit: you hurt her kids, you die. Important Notice: Everybody Is Her Kid. So be kind to everyone, dickwads. Well - except Reginald. And the Handler. Both of whom she bitchslaps for mistreating her precious babies. She then takes in Klaus because Diego loves him, and Ben because Klaus loves him, and Lila because both Diego ad Eudora love him. The only reason she didn’t take in Sissy was because Ray already had her taken care of. She’s a literal angel sent from heaven and we should all be worshipping her like the goddess she is I’m sorry I don’t know when this became Grace Appreciation Day™ but hey I’m here for it and I have no regrets.

[detectivedreameater]

Off The Record || Metzli and Marley

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: After a very expensive painting is stolen from Metzli’s gallery, they run head first into the perfect person to help them. Marley’s ready to get back into the game. CONTENT: Blood, Death, A fuckton of sarcasm

The key slid into the lock with a satisfying click, and Metzli made their way to their office to shut off the security system. Everything was in order, everything was in its place. As the air conditioning blew on their face, they grabbed their clipboard, and began their daily ritual. Everything had to be perfect before the curator could open the gallery in 15 minutes. 

Making their rounds around the gallery, something was definitely amiss. Section one, check. Section 2, check. Section 3, che—wait a minute. The print out with their fresh check marks must be in error. No, there’s no way Metzli would have made a mistake like that. Upon further inspection, they discovered the Murakami painting they acquired two weeks ago, was gone. “No! No, no, no!” They exclaimed and began to pace angrily. 

From the outside, people could see Metzli yelling expletives, but they didn’t care. All that mattered right now was finding the culprit and tearing them apart. How did they get through their security anyway? No, focus. Track. Charging furiously outside, there was plenty of cloud cover thanks to the snow to spare them any pain. Blinded by their mission, they ran into something, no, someone. 

Today was routine. No, really, it had been, up until someone had run headlong into Marley, sending her stumbling back a few inches in the crusty snow that had hardened on the sidewalk. She hadn’t really been paying attention to where she was walking, so maybe this was her fault, but she’d had other things on her mind. Namely, Erin. And also that place that her mind kept going back to, with the man and the water and the tree. 

She’d been so out of it, she hadn’t even realized she wasn’t wearing her sunglasses. The cloud cover made it enough so that she didn’t feel sluggish or heavy in the afternoon light, but looking up, she found herself blinded for a moment by the glare of sunbeams off of snow drifts. She squinted through it, towards the person they’d plowed into (pun intended) and ruffled her brows. “Slow down there, speedracer,” she grumbled, rubbing her shoulder where they’d collided. “Got somewhere to be?”

Sputtering nonsense for a few moments, it took Metzli everything they had to calm down. Their curly black mane was disheveled from the impact and it took a hand brushing through to set it back in its perfect place. “Yes, I have somewhere to be! One of my most expensive paintings was stolen!” Any attempt to keep cool was out the window and continued to pull their hair in frustration. 

Many more expletives were shouted as they gathered themselves together and they took a deep, unnecessary breath. Metzli already had their plate full and now they had to pretend to be polite. Great. “Apologies. The painting is one of a kind by Murakami. So…I’m quite frazzled at the moment.” This time their tone was much more put together and sounded like they were actually sane. 

Marley watched with a bored expression, groaning only a little bit internally when it was announced that something had been stolen. And she, as a cop, had a “duty” or whatever. She rustled through her pockets for a moment and picked out her sunglasses, sliding them onto her face as the person in front of her fussed, rather anxiously, with their hair. “Careful,” she said, speaking in her normal deadpan, “you don’t wanna ruin that perfect head of yours.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the back track, stuffing her hands in her pockets once again. “You don’t have to apologize to me. In fact, I’m probably the best person you could’ve run smack dab into.” She held out her hand, and in it was a business card. “Marley Stryder, Detective.” 

She hadn’t wanted to work on an off day, but, hey, duty call or whatever. And a missing painting was much more exciting than the five or so cases that had crossed her desk today about public defacing and noise complaints. Sometimes, on low weeks, White Crest was more boring than Albany. “So, you wanna slow down and tell me what happened? I think I might be able to help.”

With widened eyes, Metzli took the business card, analyzing its legitimacy. Lo and behold, it truly was legit. “Marley Stryder, I’m Metzli Bernal,” Their tone now was a stark contrast to their earlier more frantic one. It was a total one-eighty. The dull and cold tone Marley had did wonders on their little episode. 

“I opened maybe fifteen minutes and during my routine checklist, I noticed the Murakami was missing. No security trips, no tapes, and now a 1.8 million dollar painting is just gone!” Metzli was getting worked up again. “I’ll rip apart whoever did this!” Running a hand through their hair once more, they forced air out. “I’m cool, I’m cool. Sorry. This doesn’t happen to me. It’s never happened to me.” There was a certain layer of defeat that coated the last sentence. They felt bested, and that wasn’t a feeling they were familiar with or liked. 

Tilting her head as the other person examined her card, Marley waited. She could be patient when needed. It wasn’t like she had anything to do today, really, besides muse on her own misgivings and what she was supposed to do about it all now. “Nice to meet ya, Metzli Bernal.” She tapped the card. “You can keep that.” A glance around the street showed Marley that it was that time of the afternoon where people slid into lazy comas, waiting for time to breech into evening. Aside from dusk, when eyes went from dull to red, it was her favorite time of the day. 

“Alright, why don’t you show me the gallery and where the missing painting was hung up,” she offered, pointing down the street from the direction they had come from. “Maybe I can see something you didn’t. And, hey, if we happen to find them, say, before the rest of the squad arrives, I’ll give you a go at ‘em.” Especially because this sounded like something supernatural, and Marley wasn’t interested in coming up with a lie today. “Today’s your lucky day-- I’m the best on the force at finding missing things.” 

A smile slowly formed on Metzli’s face. Marley had already proven to be not only a strong ally, but a fun one at that, in a short amount of time. “You’re not a typical detective, are you?” They asked, already knowing the answer. Without saying anything more, the vampire moved back into the gallery, holding the door for Marley. 

“The painting was taken from the area over there,” Metzli pointed as they walked. “If you’re the best, I will be forever grateful. Will this reach the news? I don’t think Murakami would be pleased to find out that his painting was stolen, even if it was recovered.” If it were up to them, no one but the two of them would know about this. They would eliminate the culprit and take the painting back. No loose ends, no breaking news. 

“Depends on what you consider typical,” Marley answered evenly, following the other person back towards the gallery. It looked fairly new, Marley certainly didn’t remember it ever existing on her nightly rounds of the city. She didn’t mind new places, though, and she certainly didn’t mind new cases, as long as they were interesting. It was a little sad that her most interesting case right now was an art theft. She’d take what she could get. She followed Metzli’s instructions and headed over to the spot where the painting had previously been hanging up. The only clue that anything was missing was the empty gap in the wall space between two other pieces. Marley traced her hand along the way, but it felt as smooth and cool as she expected it to. Nothing had touched it. “Any flickering lights or weird, unexplained events before this?” she asked, bending down to look at the space beneath the painting. No trace of anything on the ground, either. 

“Besides some annoying ass ravens that kept following me everywhere? No. Those pendejos were taken care of a while ago. Yesterday was no different from the others either.” Metzli answered confidently. Being able to sense danger and take care of it was in their nature. This had to be a filthy, good for nothing human.

Metzli scowled at the spot where the painting once hung, grinding their teeth together in anger. “If you’re thinking it was an abnormal thing, I doubt it. It smells…too human,” They admitted, thinking out loud so that the two could collaborate together. “Don’t know why an abnormal entity would want such a human thing. The only thing it’s worth is money in most people’s eyes. Then again, they need money too.”

“Ravens?” Marley asked, standing back up and glancing around once more. “Just normal ones or--” she lifted her hands for air quotes-- “ravens.” There were quite a few supernatural species’ that it could be, if it were ravens, but Marley wasn't’ versed in the more critter-like beings. But corvids were her favorite type of bird, so she knew enough about them and the ones that shared the same world as her. A brow rose. “Smells human?” There were a few species that could smell well, vampire and werewolf among them. Marley wasn’t exactly excited to have to deal with a moody maneater, though, if that was the case.

“Not sure a human could’ve walked in here in broad daylight and not leave behind a trace,” she pointed out. “Could’ve been motivated personally. Maybe they really like the piece, or maybe they just really don’t like you. Made any enemies in town yet?”

Metzli quirked their head in curiosity. Marley definitely smelled off, but they couldn’t quite place what species she was yet. “Valravyns. Wouldn’t get off my ass for weeks.” They answered truthfully. “Took a bit of research but I finally figured out what they were and got rid of ‘em.” Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, dismissing the event as if it were a typical thing. 

“Haven’t made very many enemies yet. Give me a few more months though. I’ve kept to myself for the most part. You’d be surprised how well prepared these humans can be in this place. Especially since they’re surrounded.” Metzli didn’t particularly care for humans, but they especially didn’t care for human art criminals. And with such a prestigious piece of work on the line, they were ready to kill. 

“I’m assuming they did this in the middle of the night. But what do I know? You’re the detective.”

“Valravyns? You had valravyns on you?” Marley asked, a bit surprised. She hadn’t encountered too many of them in White Crest, but it wasn’t that rare, really. It wasn’t them, though, then. Valravyns had no need for a painting. She didn’t have her duster with her, but that might not be necessary. She held out her hand. “Get me some tape,” she demanded, “clear, if you have it.” There were other ways to dust for fingerprints, and find the proof she was looking for. If nothing showed up, it was likely supernatural. 

“Where are all the doors? That’s the front entrance, is there a backdoor? If they picked the lock, which they must’ve if no alarms went off, I’ll be able to tell.” And if it was a human, it’d be easy enough to tell. 

“Yes, the cretins ruined a bit of my business, but they’re no longer an issue. Must’ve eaten a body I ate first.” They thought aloud, and mentally shrugged. “Okay, your majesty, I’ll get that for you.” Metzli mocked a little, showing the side that disliked authority and being commanded. 

Due to the activities necessary to run an art gallery and be a curator, they were prepared and retrieved clear, artist grade tape for Marley.

Watching as she worked, they answered, “Front entrance, back entrance, and a large delivery door. But that one only has a lock on the inside.” Metzli appreciated the transparency of Marley’s investigation. Her thinking out loud helped them put everything together alongside her. Piecing everything together fueled their anger and they growled. “Will you actually let me get a piece of them before contacting your friends? Or can I actually take the trash out? That’s what I’m used to doing.”

It was becoming increasingly clear what kind of person Metzli was. Marley used to be that way, she supposed. Cold, closed off, angry with and at humans. Maybe she still was like that, some days. If a human knew what she was, what she did, they would hate her, call her a monster. And maybe she was, and maybe she’d been leaning into that for a while now, but it still hurt, sometimes. Here they were, the two of them, so human looking, but probably so far from it. She peeled the tape away and stuck it to the wall near where the edge of the painting would have been, then did it with a few more pieces, lining them up on the edge of a stand before examining each one in turn. “There’s definitely prints here,” she said, “human. Let’s check the front and back doors, see if anything matches.” 

She paused at Metzli’s last questions. Marley hadn’t killed anyone in a while, and this was a case that the police could actually get their grubby hands on and punish the culprit. But what good had they been to her lately? Through broken ribs and interdimensional portals and a crushed skull, they had told her she couldn’t be the detective she used to be. Marley stood up and brushed the front of her jacket off. “Friends? Oh, I don’t have any friends at the precinct. Obviously, you happened to find the culprit before I did. Maybe I wasn’t even here,” she shrugged, “maybe justice took it upon itself to deal with this.”

Marley was quickly becoming a character that Metzli liked. A cop that was not only supernatural, but absolutely willing to throw away the rule book. Good. Rules were meant to be broken anyway. Or so the vampire believed. They caught on easily to what Marley was implying and appreciated her offer. “Justice is funny that way. Coming and going at the most opportune times. I do like your style, Marley.” They smiled wickedly and began walking back towards the back entrance. “I doubt they used the front to break in. Too much foot and car traffic to be discreet. Let’s check back here.”

Expensive shoes clacked on the white tile floor, and hands were clasped behind their back. Anger still brewed within, but with a plan and distinct goal, Metzli’s anger was much more structured. Vampiric hands would rip apart the criminals and they’d retrieve the artwork, and maybe they’d have a friend to join in on the fun. “When we catch this imbecile, or even imbeciles, will you be partaking in the justice?” They asked rather excitedly. Killing alongside someone was something they actually missed about being in a clan. The teamwork could and would always get fun.

Marley followed Metzli towards the back door, holding onto the tape as she did, stopping at the door and wrapping a few pieces around it to try and lift some more prints. As she worked, she was relatively quiet, listening to what her companion was saying. She was still uncertain of Metzli’s species, but she supposed it was something that preyed on humans. They all sort of did, didn’t they? That’s what made them monsters. She pulled the tape away and found more prints. “Looks like your human theory is panning out.” She held the tape up before depositing it on the stand next to her. She pulled the door open and checked around the outside, examining the ground, the wall, the space in the alley. 

A smile spread across her own lips as she stood up. It was never the hunt that excited her, but the chase. In that way, she supposed, perhaps they’d make a good team. The hunter and the killer. She glanced back at Metzli. “Depends, I suppose,” she shrugged, “I can probably get what I need from them without bloodshed. I’ll save that part for you.” She supposed just finding them might even provide her enough fear to feed from. She pointed down the alley. “Footprints, leading this way. You good?”

Having their theory proven correct seemed like it was a given to them. Of course it was correct. They’d lived long enough to know, to smell when an event was done by a human. “Figured as much. Though it’s nice to have it confirmed by a professional such as you.” Metzli said politely, and with no indication of the thoughts they carried internally. Pleasantries needed to continue if Marley was going to help them. That and she seemed like genuine fun. Fun people deserve pleasantries. At least the people they deemed fun. 

“Blood will be all mine if that’s the case. Preferred too. It tastes best when the feeding is full of vengeance. I’ll leave the chase to you and reap the reward. But by the sounds of it, we’ll both benefit from this.” They peered down the direction Marley pointed and nodded. “I’m good. Getting excited, actually. The fun part starts now it seems.” 

Metzli could smell them now. They could smell the trail growing stronger, the scent matching exactly what was in the gallery. “You’re right. Let’s head down this way. Can’t stay too long in the sun though. I try not to do it for more than twenty minutes.” It wasn’t likely that they’d stay out very long, but they wanted to be on the safe side. Watching enough crime shows, Metzli figured they’d find some sort of tire tracks from the getaway vehicle.

“Oh, you’re so very welcome,” Marley deadpanned, “I live to validate others.” She adjusted her sunglasses before they headed out into the sunlight, feeling it drag on her once again, longing for the shadows that clung too close to the walls. The mention of sunlight and blood clicked it together in Marley’s brain-- Metzli was a vampire. That checked out. They had the brooding, grumpy facade down. She wondered what might lie beneath that, or if they still had that shiny, fun thing called a soul. She’d met enough vampires-- soulless and not-- in her life to not care much either way for them. They were the lucky ones, after all-- they’d been human once before. They understood what they lost. Marley had never been human, only forced to pretend to be. She would never know what that felt like.

“Don’t worry,” she tapped the side of her head, “nothing escapes my eyes.” Even in the shadows, her vision was perfect. The steps led not to a car, but an old abandoned building. A warehouse. Marley peered through one of the broken windows and found a truck inside. It was loaded with more than just the painting. “Smugglers,” she announced quietly, pointing inside. “Looks like you’ll get your meal and dessert, if you want it.”

Metzli couldn’t help but laugh at Marley’s sarcasm. She was a total delight, and they enjoyed her personality greatly. “God, you’re a lot of fun. After this, I think I’ll buy you some drinks if you’re up for it.” They offered, fully meaning every word. People like Marley weren’t easy to find, and if they could befriend her, they felt like they could make their life that much more exciting. “If more people were like you, this place would be better and I’d probably have more friends.”

It was true, they firmly that. The compliment was rare in that it was genuine and honest. “Son of a bitch.” Metzli peered inside, needing to look away before they lost whatever composure they had collected. “What do you get out of these humans anyway, if not the blood or meat?” They asked, wanting to focus on something else now. The urge to explode was too great to think about what was inside the warehouse. 

Avoiding the subject was no use, though. And they began to fume internally. Smugglers. Fucking smugglers bested them! Not for long though. Metzli was sure they’d get the last laugh. They were going to savor every drop.

At that, Marley had to smirk. A rare display of emotion crossing her face. It wasn’t that she tried to seem so blase and deadpanned, but she couldn’t really help it at this point, it was just how she was. Except around certain people. She used to savor the thought of killing, especially those who thought they could get away with abusing their power. Smugglers weren’t exactly in her repertoire, but there was a sheen about this one that made Marley almost able to feel the smuggness. If they weren’t careful, they’d expose a side of this town no one wanted to know about. Therefore, they needed to be stopped.

“Wanna watch and find out?” she grinned, maliciously, before removing her sunglasses and pulling the door open. The shadows were her home and she nearly faded into them, wishing it were darker, even. Nighttime was her home, but these would do for now.

The clack of her boots alerted one man. She didn’t have the ability to sense or smell which one was the painting smuggler, but she didn’t really care. All he had to do was look into her eyes as she smiled and waved and he crumpled to the ground. It was nice to be back, she supposed. She hadn’t been able to drop someone like this in months. His fear tasted like salty candy and she liked her lips. The man in the car hopped out, fumbling for his weapon. “Oh, good,” she said, standing up straight, hovering over the screaming man, “seconds.”

Watching Marley work was like watching a beautiful live art piece. A personal show just for Metzli to marvel in. The men dropped like flies, a striking show of her power that made their mouth hang slightly open. As thoughts raced in their mind, they tried to figure out just what Marley was until they put it together. A Mara. A sweet, dangerous, and efficient Mara. It took a few moments, but they gathered themselves enough to remove their suit jacket and dress shirt so they they wouldn’t get blood on them. Pants and binders were easy enough to replace. Suit jackets were the expensive part. 

Leaping forward, Metzli’s face contorted to bare their now showing fangs. A predatory show of power and the fate that was to befall the criminals. Screams bellowed from their first victim. Blood gushed as they tore through arteries and consumed, quickly leaping onto the next victim. “You really know how to put on a show.” They said with bloodied lips. Making a mess didn’t matter, not right now. Not when scum was being taken care of and no one would miss them. 

“Who knew a mara and a vampire could work so well together?” Another bite into a man, who’s groans were fading into nothingness.

Marley stepped back, sliding her glasses back on, as she allowed Metzli to partake in her prize. Honestly, she wished it had been harder, but humans were often careless, and with a bloodhound vampire on her side, finding them had been easy. She stuffed her hands in her pockets as she watched the bloodshed and wondered if she should feel bad. What would Erin think of her? They were criminals, though, and they needed to be stopped. It stood to reason that they were probably even part of a larger ring, but she could worry about that later. Maybe it would even lead her to a supernatural body sitting at the top, extorting humans and human objects to make money in a town that already took so much from others. She frowned.

“I’m nothing if not dramatic,” she said, raising a brow. Where she was quiet and restrained, barely lifting a finger to drop her prey, Metzli was messy and efficient, reveling in their kill. Marley admired it, a little. A mara could not sip blood from a body, but stealing breath was just as tantalizing. “Must be our collective appreciation of the night,” she went on, coming over to the dead body Metzli was still drinking from. She prodded him with her foot. “Guess they got their comeuppance, huh? Feel better? Bet your paintings right here in the back.”

Both hunger and the thirst for vengeance had been sated. Getting rid of the bodies would come later, as Metzli knew the warehouse was clearly abandoned. Cleanup could easily be done under the cover of the night. “Presentation and drama  has always mattered to me, so I appreciate your showmanship. Much cleaner than mine, but I like to represent brutal strength. It’s messy, but fun.” Blood covered lips smiled, finally done feeding. Their lips were then promptly wiped by the back of Metzli’s arm. “I feel almost euphoric, thank you.”

Taking a moment, they took in a big gulf of air and practically ripped open the big crate they smelled the painting in. Metzli eyed the box, noticing they were just about ready to ship everything. “We got here right on time. Looks like they were packing everything to ship. Probably a much bigger organization. Art theft is common thanks to the money in it.” The painting was surrounded by packing materials to prevent any wear and tear, but it was all the wrong materials. “Fucking idiots,” Metzli spat angrily, splintering the wood underneath their hands. “What now, anyway?” They decided to distract themselves with whatever Marley had to say for now. 

“Hence why you’re an artists, huh?” Marley chuckled. Sometimes people were pretty transparent, and she didn’t mind that. While mystery intrigued Marley, sometimes she didn’t mind having the answers presented to her. Sometimes it was a relief not to have to psycho-analyze everyone and everything, even if her brain never shut off about it. She took in a deep breath, almost sighing when the fear in the air dissipated, signaling the death of both men. She was almost disappointed but it was a satisfying snack and she could grab a real meal later, under the cover of dark. “Brutal strength is something to display. I prefer the more...subtle method.” 

She strolled over behind Metzli as they tore into the truck, and the crate that held their prized possession. The Murakami painting. Admittedly, Marley had no idea who that was. Art wasn’t much of an interest of hers, but she could appreciate it all the same. “Not damaged, is it?” she asked, tilting her head. “Don’t think I have enough to compensate for that if it is.” She rolled the idea around in her head. “Well...I doubt anyone’s coming back here. When the shipment doesn’t show up, whoever was expecting it is likely to come looking. So we can do one of two things--” she lifted her hand, two fingers raised. “Clean up this mess and leave them wonder what happened. Oooorr--” she drew out the word, a wicked smile curling up her lips-- “we come back and wait for them to find the mess. Take a real meal.” And maybe she was a little excited to have someone gawk at her abilities again. It wasn’t every day you got to watch someone suffocate on air.

Marley was intriguing Metzli in all the right ways. She had not only gotten them a large meal, but helped them locate the painting. For once, they wanted to make sure someone was repaid appropriately. “Subtle is a valid route. And no, no damage done. There would have been though. The idiots don’t know how to properly package shit.” Hands waved to the packing nuts they used, the only thing they used. It was an insult to any artist of notoriety. 

Fingers tapped as thoughts swirled in Metzli’s head. Both options were great, amazing even. “God, you’re so full of good ideas. I like the meal option. We can even prepare to cater to us, and maybe get you that fear you actually want.” Working with someone was out of character, but Marley made it hard to pass up the opportunity. She was just too fun and so powerful. Things that Metzli could actually admire in a person, and they had no problem admitting that to her. “What do you say we do that, and with my gallery so close, I’ll keep an eye on the place. Keep you updated. We do make one hell of a team. Deal?” Their hand extended, ready to shake Marley’s. It was a really good idea, one that both of them can get behind happily.  

“Good,” Marley nodded, even if she hadn’t actually planned to compensate for anything. It wasn’t her job to do that, but it had felt nice to actually have done some part of her job. She missed it, fuck, she missed it. But until her seizures were under control, the Captain still wasn’t letting her into the field. Yet she’d done this perfectly fine, even caught the culprits and was planning on coming back to finish the job. She ruffled her brows. “Better get that back to your gallery, before someone else shows up. Maybe get some better security, too.” 

She waited patiently for Metzli’s answer, pleased at the idea that they thought so highly of her. “Deal,” she answered, without hesitation, reaching out to take their hand. It was cold, and even if she’d expected it, it was still strange to feel. People were usually warm, even she was warm. But she gave them a firm handshake before nodding at them. “You keep an eye out and just gimme a call when you see something, yeah? I can be there in a jiffy. I always feel much better at night. Don’t you?”

Metzli let out a laugh, enjoying Marley’s input to the conversation. She seemed like she had just as much fun as they did, and were excited to do it again. “Yes, I do. Thank you again, Marley. I’ll be seeing you soon for a night of fun.” Picking up their clothes after wiping their hands on the gentleman’s clothes, Metzli made their way back to the gallery, but before doing so, they stopped at the warehouse entrance. “You really are a creature to marvel at. I’m looking forward to watching your little show again.” With that, they disappeared into the alleyway. 

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Drive Fanfic

Title: Drive

Summary:  Lately, all Virgil has fantasized about is driving away to a place where the Year 2020 doesn’t exist. It’s illogical and ludicrous, because it’s not possible to physically escape it all. But try telling that to Virgil, who’s done nothing but try and run away from his fears since childhood.

Pairings: platonic moxiety

Word-Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Anxiety, Self-destructive habits, Dissociation Sleep-deprived, Sickness, Vague References to Covid-19, Crying, Some Comfort Mostly Angst, Ambiguous Ending

This is...kinda a vent fic? I’ve been wanting to write another fic involving present day events for awhile but this is not the fic I had in mind.

-

The moon greets Virgil with a crescent grin as he pulls out of his work’s parking lot late at night. It’s a comforting glow, soft and warm in ways that the artificial street lights could never achieve. He smiles back at the moon, taking his eyes off the road. Something he knows to be dangerous and his anxiety doesn’t waste time jumping at once to remind him. 

He pushes these worries aside, tapping a rhythmic beat against his steering wheel. Normally, he’d be more diligent. But he’s exhausted and he’s driven the route between his work and home so many countless times that he could do it in his sleep. 

Still, he has to watch himself when he almost makes a wrong turn. He’s lived at his new apartment for four months and yet it’s easy in this state to meander back to his old dwelling like a horse whose rider has fallen asleep in the saddle. 

He thinks about turning on music to keep his mind awake, fingers twitching as he does so, but he does not do so. Instead, he gets on the highway, watching as the world flies past his car. So fast, almost too fast. He’s going at least five, ten miles past the speed limit. A younger version of himself would be freaked by that.

Once upon a time, he hated driving. No, he feared it. The idea of being in control of a machine that could, at any moment, kill himself or others used to petrify him. Now? The action of driving is almost as mundane and monotonous as brushing his teeth.

Physically, he is the one at the wheel, controlling the vehicle. But mentally, he is separated from the action. His thoughts of nothing and everything all at once. Just like the whole year has felt like. A year that has flown by faster than he can process, but has also plodded along sluggishly. 

Lately, all he’s fantasized about is driving away to a place where the Year 2020 doesn’t exist. It’s illogical and ludicrous, because it’s not possible to physically escape it all. But try telling that to Virgil, who’s done nothing but try and run away from his fears since childhood. 

He’s just tired. Exhausted of the world falling apart at the seams when it’s supposed to only be himself doing that. He can’t handle the numbers skyrocketing, the constant flow of new safety measures at work he knows are good yet so tiring to readjust to again and again. The angry dissents, the injustice and apathy of it all. 

Exhaling, he flicks on the turn-signal and the car drifts towards the exit lane. Too far right, almost veering into the shoulder of the road and down into the gully beside it. 

“Shit!” Virgil hisses, the loud vibration of hitting the line marking shoulder keeping him from becoming another highway death statistic. He pulls away from the line, his heartbeat accelerating. He continues off the highway without further incident.

Still, it’s enough to ignite his old fear of driving, enough to force his consciousness back into his body and focus on the road. The rest of his drive home is painfully boring compared to those exciting few seconds. When he does eventually reach his apartment building, he feels himself aching with relief.

 Both his body and mind is craving for sleep, to escape from the conscious world for a few glorious hours. He both loves and loathes sleep for this very reason; loves it because it is a reprieve from reality and loathes it because it is but a temporary one.

After checking, and double-checking his car is locked, Virgil stumbles to his apartment like a zombie from a low-grade horror film. He fumbles with entering his key inside the keyhole a few times. Eventually he manages to get it in.

Prior to passing through the threshold of his front door, he had a task-list floating around in his head. A task-list he likes to call, “Virgil’s Agenda To Get The Fuck to Sleep As Soon As Possible”

It includes the following things:

Nab a quick late-night snack because he’s starving and experts be damned

Go to the bathroom, contemplate brushing his brush for five minutes before deciding the one-minute activity is too much energy

Collapse into bed without changing out of his work uniform

Spend an hour scrolling on his phone until he’s too incoherent for anxious thoughts to keep him awake all night

Sleep until his alarm wakes him up for work in the afternoon.

All of this is thrown out the figurative window when he spies his roommate and best friend Patton curled up on the living room couch. He’s still awake, half-disinterestedly watching an episode of The Office. Normally, this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. For as he chastises Virgil for dismal sleeping habits, the man is a hypocrite. Virgil has caught him on numerous occasions on a Netflix binge way past the witching hour.

Something about this time feels off. Virgil can’t decide if it’s his own anxiety or the existence of the virus-that-shall-not-be-named that causes him to feel this way. Maybe both, even. There’s just something about how Patton turns to look at him with a hint of dazed terror in his eyes.

“Hi, Pat.” Virgil says, taking his mask off. Honestly he’s gotten so used to wearing it that he sometimes forgets when it’s on his face.

“You, um, might want to keep that on.” Patton bits his lips.

“Oh?”

“I woke up from my nap today with chills.”

Virgil tries keeping his face neutral, “Any other symptoms?”

“M-my body aches all over, and--and I have a really bad headache--” This is where Patton dissolves into tears and Virgil’s heart breaks right then and there.

He takes a step closer and this freaks Patton out further. “Stay away! I don’t want you to g--get sick!”

Virgil complies, taking a few steps back even. He shakes his head though, biting back a harsh laugh. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, but let’s face it; you and I both know I probably gave it to you. You work from home--I don’t. And even if you didn’t get it from me, we both live together. There’s no way I haven’t already been exposed.”

“I-I know, but just to be s-s-safe--”

“Of course,” Virgil says gently, because while he sees taking precautions a moot point he still respects his friend’s wishes. “Listen, we’ll go to a testing site in the morning, okay? I’ll probably get quarantined from work so, um, at least now I’ll finally have time to rewatch Avatar with you?”

Patton nods but he’s still upset. All sniffles and hiccups with a broken sob here and there.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay, alright? Even if you test positive, things will be okay.” Virgil says, desperate to assuage Patton’s fears in some way, never mind his own, “let’s just watch The Office for now and worry about things tomorrow, alright?”

“O-okay,” Patton agrees, wiping tears and snot away with a corner of his blanket.

They watch the show mostly in silence, aside from a few forced laughs here and there. Even the antics of one Michael Scott isn’t enough to break the somber mood. Virgil’s heart beats sluggishly, as if he’s been put to cryosleep. He should be more devastated, his anxiety going to overdrive with presenting him all the worst case scenarios. Instead he feels nothing.

Maybe he’s in denial. Or maybe he has always known this was gonna happen eventually. Either to himself, Patton or both.

“Hey Patton?” He says, “when all of this over, let’s go on a road trip. You can pick the destination. I don’t care where it is other than it has to take a fuckton of hours to drive to.”

Patton is silent for a moment. He doesn’t teasingly ask Virigl to put a quarter in the swear jar. He breathes slowly, peeking above his blanket, “What about Yellowstone State Park? We could go there to see Old Faithful and the buffalo.”

“Yeah, okay we can go there,” Virgil nods, “let's invite Logan, I bet he’d like that.”

“Can we also--” Patton coughs, covering his mouth with his blanket, “can we also invite Roman?”

Virgil rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “Sure, we can invite Prince Insufferable if you insist. The more the merrier.”

So lost do they get in a hypothetical road trip, that the show and the world itself fades from the two’s thoughts for the rest of the night.

[expolikestoart]

Fam-ILY au headcanons post!

listen I love them a lot and I want to talk about them even if no one else really cares

Character Designs

Sleepover/Movie Night for the boys

The Picani Family

the Picanis have a day once every week where they all watch a few episodes of Avatar together. tis law.

Emile is genderfluid!! So sometimes they're Patton and Dee's dad, sometimes they're thier mom, sometimes they're their ren. Patton and Dee tend to just call them their dad though, just cause it's easier to explain to the other kids. And it doesn't cause Emile any issues so they don't mind. They were a pronoun braclet a lot. (tbh they're really just happy their kids sees them as a role model.) (He/Him, She/Her, They/Them, depends on the day)

Patton likes to play with his stuffed animals a lot!

his favorite blanket is his weighted blanket

Dee is HoH so the entiree family knows ASL and he wears hearing aids.

Dee's very passionate about octonauts and his favorite episode was the coral reef snake one. (his favorite character is tweak)

Patton and Dee are bio siblings but they're both adopted by Emile. Emile had a partner during the adoption but they broke up a few years later and he(the partner) never offically had any custody.

at the start of the storyline (maybe writing a fic) they just moved and Emile and him broke up.

Emile keeps pictures of them in his wallet and Will talk about them whenever someone asks.

Emile is a children's therapist in this AU, and specifically works with kids who deal with learning disabilities.

The Kingsley Family

When Remy was like. 17 he got in a relationship with this one girl and they did the do. When the twins were born, she left. He hasn't heard from her since.

His family wasn't that supportive except his Great Aunt Becca who's a wonderful woman. She lived with her partner for years until she died a year or two before Remy moved in.

So they all live with her now.

Roman likes to sew little costumes for his stuffed animals. Remy helps.

Roman begged Remy to let him join dance classes. Remy doesn't currently have the money to take so he's saving up to let him.

Remus is in that weird kid phase? You know the one where they're weirdly obsessed with like. Death and witches and shit? He's in that phase.

He also makes "potions" and shit outta stuff in the kitchen. 50% of them are probably poisonous. Remy lets him drink absolutely none of them.

Remy's Bi and proud. He hasn't really dated anyone since he was 17 but. He's open to dating again. But only if his boys like them.

Remy works at a few different places. He's the manager at a coffee shop when the boys are at school and at night when they sleep he works at a gas station. Neither has great pay but he's doing his best.

Roman and Remus have very active imaginations. It has led to them waking up Remy or Becca due to monsters in the closet more than they like.

Disney! And! Pixar! Movie! Nights!

Remy and Aunt Becca have most definitely made scrapbooks of the boys together. (even though Remy might deny it to keep up his tough guy image)

The Cogsworth Family

Brian showed the boys some of Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Logan fell in love with the show immediately. Virgil doesn't like it as much but he likes to see Logan excited so he watches it too.

Virgil freaking Loves Gravity Falls though. He likes to try and find monsters in the apartment complex and nearby park. He swears he heard a hide behind once. (Brian played the sound effect on his phone and placed a speaker in a tree to make him happy)

Logan only likes certain textures with clothes so Brian makes sure that when they go clothes shopping Logan feels them first.

Logan has a prosthetic foot (it doesn't show in the family portrait because his socks and shoes cover it up) ((he also has a barbie doll because her leg was a prosthetic))

Virgil likes to draw a lot, especially monsters and stuff that he sees on tv. It's really cute looking half of the time but sometimes it kinda worries Brian.

Brian is Trans! And Aro/Ace. The kids are his. He had them pre-transition. His family wasn't supportive of him transitioning so he doesn't really talk to them. Has been on T for 5 years. (He/Him)

Brian's a bit of a space nerd so he likes to watch documentaries on them and the kids will often curl up on him and watch too.

Brian's compiter has a metric fuckton of baby photos of the boys!

They go to the park because he tries to keep them as healthy as possible and hopefully his kids will make friends. Both are painfully shy.

He's a security guard/Janitor for Walmart's l a t e shifts.

The Sanders Family

Thomas isn't adopted y e t but god is Anton working on the paper work for that because bitch that's their son now and they love him.

Thomas still is the goofy guy we know, happy, enjoys Disney, likes to sing and stuff.

Since Thomas is old enough to join the school choir he did and he loves it.

Anton and Thomas met the others because Emile was Thomas's therapist and once Anton asked Emile the best thing he could do for their kid and Emile commented on how that they knew it was scary, cause they had the same thoughts when they adopted their kids.

Emile is no longer Thomas's therapist due to him no longer being impartial since that's his kids friend and that's kinda iffy so now their friend is.

Anton is nb and pan-romantic ace. (He/Him, They/Them)

Both of them are kinda chaotic at times and sometimes you can find the two of them trying desperately to bake but there's batter on the ceiling and flour in Anton's hair. (they can't bake but anton can cook so it's okay)

When Thomas gets adopted all the others will be invited to see the signing.

Thomas didn't get to watch most Disney movies while in Foster care so Anton is showing him everything.

He also didn't get to see the Barbie movies so guess what else he's watching because Anton insists.

Anton still has an appreciation for fine arts and has a painting hanging up in his Living room framed and right next to it in just as fancy a frame is a drawing Thomas made. (it's a family portrait that Thomas made with stick figures. When he gave it to Anton, Anton c r i e d.)

Thomas has two friends from before he writes to, Joan and Tayln. He writes them letters every few days. They write back and everytime he gets one he's like!!!!!

Anton's the most well off of anyone in the squad so he tends to give gifts to the others when they find something.

All of them

The Parent Group are all very supportive of their kids interests, and also have meetups while the boys have playdates where the drink they're preferred hot drink (Emile likes Tea, Remy and Anton like Coffee, and Brian likes Apple Cider) and bitch about the shitty PTA moms and work (not emile though he loves his job and has patient confidentiality so... no)

Roman and Logan both love Percy Jackson but in different ways. Logan read all the books. Roman read the comic book adaptions and listened to the Lightning Thief Musical.

Virgil and Patton like to hunt for monsters together in the apartment complex and park but everytime it happens they both get a little scared and run if something actually looks spooky.

When all the kids became friends they had Patton teach them ASL secretly for a couple of months to surprise Dee. They showed Dee and he c r i e d. Happy tears of course but he was so surprised that all of them learned that for him.

Virgil, Dee, Remus, and Roman all have the same Recess break on the little kids playground so they play pretend together a lot. Usually it's Roman and Virgil vs Remus and Dee, but sometimes they switch it up.

Patton, Thomas, and Logan are the Big Kids, but also are kinda the weird kids too so they don't have much friends outside of the group. But it's okay, because they got each other and they like to hang out.

Patton has punched some kids cause they made fun of either his friends or Dee or maybe his Dad. He will throw hands. Logan might hold him back. Thomas will hold him back but only after a punch or two.

Remy once joked about having one brain cell in front of the kids and all the kids who weren't his got very alarmed and started to make him realize he was smart but Roman and Remus went: yeah you do. He's never been so heavily burned before or since.

Roman and Remus don't do the weird twins finishing each other's sentences thing but Logan and Virgil do.

Patton still makes puns but not good ones because kid's humor is nonsensical so half of the time he'll go up to Logan and Thomas and try them on them and every time they're both like "???? what did you just say????????"

They will all go and do fashion shows where Roman and Remus will take the others and drape them in sheets and cutains and blankets and have everyone walk the fake runway while someone sits out and judges.

Remus, Dee, and Virgil try to do magic together. It doesn't always go well but they try.

Roman, Patton, and Logan will try to play demigod but Patton has no clue what he's doing.

Roman and Remus showed Thomas some Disney sing alongs he could play on his tablet. Anton thinks their son has a lovely singing voice but also. they doesn't like hearing him sing at 6 am when they're barely awake. Can someone hold a grudge against a kindergartner? Ask Anton.

[jupitersson]

Ok. So like. Cinderbrush 4’s reactions to getting kidnapped/the other’s reactions to that person being kidnapped.

*chanting* angst, angst, angst

also this lowkey turned into a canon divergence and less headcanon-y so like ??? oops??

Okay, timeline divergence where instead of Amanda being taken, Suzie takes Aff. They get too high and end up wandering outside after extricating themself from the Hive, trying to find Cam, when Terrence swoops in with his whole himbo act and says, “you’re not looking too hot. Here, come with me, we’ll get some water in you.” And he takes Aff to the sacrificial altar.

With this thread changed, once Sasha storms back to the party, trailed by Cam, I’d say she’d approach Jamie to try and make something about the night successful. She might try to turn them on again, try to get herself to feel something that isn’t anger at Cam, but before she can even try and harness her sensuality, Jamie stops her and questions where Aff went. They had been looking for them and had regrettably had an interaction with the Hive because that was the last time they’d seen them. They say they’re gonna go find Cam to see if they’ve seen Aff, and even though Sasha knows he hasn’t, she lets them go.

Sasha, confused, sends out a text to the Hive, asking if they’ve seen Aff. When she gets a negative from Jesse and a “haven’t seen them since ;)” from Lexi and Cori, she starts to get a little worried. Jamie returns at that point with a downtrodden looking Cam, and Sasha tells them that the Hive hasn’t seen Aff since their escapade with Lexi and Cori.

At this point, they all start to get worried, both because Aff is their ride, and because it’s dangerous for them to just be out and about, high as a kite and without a knowledge of how parties work. They make their way to the front and ask some questions, wondering after the shaggy haired teen with the ascot. It’s a good enough description that they’re able to pry some info out of one dude, who says that they saw Aff heading off into the refinery with some other person.

Cut to a similar sort of running deeper into the refinery, as they did for Amanda, but this time they’re down Aff. Cam heads the charge, but with minimal success, he scrubs at his face and calls upon his patron, asking for help. The flashes come to him like shards of broken glass, but he sees Aff on a table, struggling against leather restraints, and he sees candles, and dark robes, and the glint of a golden mask... and a dagger.

With these images, Cam starts tearing through the refinery, Sasha and Jamie on his heels, concerned and scared after seeing Cam go catatonic, eyes welling with green smoke. All he spares is the word “candles,” and “we gotta find ‘em, fast.”

Cam gets to the room first, slamming into it and immediately rushing the first person he sees. He tackles them to the floor and starts wailing on them at the same time that Sasha and Jamie get to the room, where things have turned into complete fucking chaos. In the process of tackling a cultist, some of the candles have fallen and caught other robes on fire. Jamie grabs one of the cultists and hisses a curse in their face before shoving them back into an array of burning candles. Sasha, unable to do much, calls the police and cites an altercation, and that her and her friends are in danger, and that’s when a gunshot goes off.

The cultist that Cam had tackled somehow managed to get free their gun and fired point blank in Cam’s stomach, sending him reeling. At this point, Aff is a raging werewolf with more wounds than they can think about from the dagger, but they rip free of their bonds as they become their darkest self and eviscerate the cultist that had shot Cam before grabbing him and sprinting out of the building, Jamie and Sasha following closely as the cultists try to stop them. Flames begin to consume the room, as Aff gets them all far enough away from the danger. Regret fills them as they realize they have to hurt someone to revert, and they turn on Jamie and slash them with their close, growling an apology as they begin to shrink to their human form.

Sasha, meanwhile, has removed Cam’s flannel and pressed it against the bullet wound, trying to stem the bleeding as tears blur her vision. She’s not sure how much time passes before sirens start to blare, and Jamie and Aff are yelling for the ambulance. They get Cam on a gurney and, haltingly, Sasha says that she’ll go in with him, and that Aff and Jamie should follow them to the hospital.

Everyone’s very shaken up, and with the arrival of the police, the rave had disseminated. The Hive ended up finding Amanda in their search for Aff and kept her close, and when Aff and Jamie explain the situation, Jesse offers to drive her home.

Cam is immediately rushed into surgery while Sasha paces the waiting room, biting her thumb nail and wondering if she should call his parents now or in the morning. She’s trembling with fear, because she doesn’t want their last meaningful conversation to be the one they had outside of the main warehouse. She just wants him to be safe. Her worries disappear a little when Jamie and Aff arrive, mostly because Aff immediately wraps her up in a big hug and she finally breaks down in tears against their chest.

Hours pass, and at some point they realize Aff’s injuries and get them checked into the hospital as well. They don’t require surgery, just a metric fuckton of stitches, and that leaves Jamie and Sasha to bide their time in the waiting, leaning on one another.

Eventually, Cam is released from surgery, and Sasha requests that they wait until the morning to call his parents. No need to wake them up in the middle of the night for this, she says with a gleam in her eye. They let her into his room when she says she’s his girlfriend, and Jamie asks after Aff, saying that they’re their partner. It’s a lie, even if Jamie realizes they wouldn’t mind it to be true.

(No one ever said that the nearest hospital had the best security, but maybe they just looked so distraught that they let them through.)

Sasha whispers apologies to Cam, saying that she still doesn’t totally understand what’s going on, but that she wants to help him. He doesn’t wake up, but Sasha gets the sense that he heard her, and she clasps his hand before falling asleep at his bedside.

(Later, Aff somehow charms a nurse into letting both them and Jamie into Cam’s room, and they all end up surrounding Cam’s bed, and when he wakes up to all of them asleep around him, he almost doesn’t feel the tingling pain where he was shot, signaling that the anesthesia is wearing off. He simply lays his head back and falls asleep, one hand in Sasha’s, and the other on Aff’s head.)

[tricksyspirits]

My last relationship post, and time visiting tumblr, was a while ago. And I swear a lot of it has been really beautiful and I love him, I love him so much my heart must overflow, lest it burst. Thing is I talk about all that on my social media, not into this void. What goes here is what I cannot say to everyone, and cannot even go on my private channels because they include my boyfriend.

I love him so much, and sometimes he’s really good at this, and he works on understanding and improving himself and his mental health a fuckton and I’m so proud of him. But sometimes the fact that he has spent his whole life pushing away emotions for his own protection comes out, and sometimes it’s just hard. Sometimes things that I’m feeling are too much and he doesn’t know what to do with them or for me and he backs away. He’s working on it but when he fails it hurts. Rejection is really hard for me. Feeling pushed away is really hard. Protesting in a city is wearing, and because protests recently have been direct responses to arrests they’ve been very short notice rather than planned ahead, which means that I don’t necessarily plan where I’m going to end up that night, and it’s too painful to carry my medic bag which has nothing I couldn’t lose and my normal bag at the same time. That has resulted in my not always having my meds. I got back on track, but I’m still experiencing the effects from the inconsistency, which makes me a lot more sensitive to things like stress, physical wear and tear, and emotional states of other people. So today was really hard. We walked 9 miles mostly in the sun. I had a lot of social interaction. We’re always at least partly on alert, scanning for cops and other threats, which really takes a toll. There was major disorganization this evening that resulted in two arrests from an unplanned group of 20 people, far too few for safety in numbers and scattered rather than a tight group. Emotions and tensions were high, including in my friend who leads a team, and is dealing with the stress of handling damage control on something so disorganized. I’m especially prone to soaking all that up, and realized at 12am that I hadn’t eaten since a small snack. We get home, I’m wiped physically, emotionally and mentally, the hunger is painful and I know won’t let me sleep but I’m too exhausted to do shit about it. I’ve spent the night watching people struggling to diffuse tension, and my friend trying to get my boyfriend to take care of himself the next day in a way I know he doesn’t react well to for a lot of reasons. Not that he’s going to take his negative feelings out on me, but that’s another tense interaction and the aftermath that is weighing on me. All I want to do is eat something quick, cry briefly while being acknowledged and hugged, and go the fuck to sleep. I wish one of us was less completely done so someone could hand me food, but that’s not the case and that’s fine, it happens periodically and whatever. But right now he’s not in a state to handle feelings, so he sees things in pure practicality. I’m like hey, can you hug me for a minute? He’s like it’s hot and I don’t want that body heat. I get it, it’s not comfy for me either, but that kind of rejection always gets to me. I’m like ok, sorry, and back off and based on my tone he’s like are you ok. I’m like no, and walk back toward him cause I figure that understanding changed the interaction. I’m like I’m just really tired and— and he says then go to sleep. Fuck that hurt. I go to brush my teeth and start crying because I needed to. He goes past and looks at me. I’m like what? I just needed to process. He’s like you said you were tired, I’m like I wasn’t done! and I list the other stuff. This changes nothing. I am super wiped in every conceivable way and make my way to bed. I’m like maybe he’ll ask again. Nope. I get it. He’s working on it. Some days he’s great with it. But sometimes he sinks into it again, and I get it but it sucks. There’s no one I can just spill this to. They’re either not close enough, or already dealing with a lot of shit and don’t need this, or my best friend who I would normally tell but I’ve been waiting for something else in our relationship to be resolved to update her, and that keeps not happening. Anyway. It just hurts. It’ll definitely get better when my meds are helping consistently again. But I needed to put this somewhere, so I will do it here, where no one will read it. But I said it, and I feel better.

[belzinone]

profile

Basic Details

Full Name: Isabella Minerva Zinone Bel Zinone Accolades: La Guillotina Age: born c.823 Gender: demi femme, gnc femme, nonbinary woman Pronouns: she/her/hers Ethnicity: Mixed & Unknown (Italian, Romani, Egyptian, Russian, etc.) Nationality: Paradis Nicknames: La Guillotina Birthday: March 8th (International Women’s Day) Occupation: (various) medical, mechanics, entertainment, modeling, sex work Intelligence Level: average Spoken Languages. native language (english or german), some italian & french

Physical Details

Body Type: muscular, overweight, hourglass, thick (ref Christina Hendricks & Stefania Ferrario) Height: 5′0″ Weight: 140lbs Skin Tone: cool medium with grey/olive undertone (ref Jhené Aiko) Hair Color: medium brown Hair Texture: curly, medium thickness, prone to frizz Hair Style: shortly cropped (child), long & wavy (adolescent-young adult), side braid (early soldier career), medium undercut/mohawk (middle military career), long undercut/mohawk (late military career) Eye Color: hazel (golden/amber, emerald specks) Eye Shape: narrow almond, deepset & wrinkled Dominant Hand: left Defining Features: widow’s peak, facial moles  Face Shape: short, heart, round Face Claim(s): Iva (Karneval), Marie-Joseph Sanson (Innocent/Innocent Rouge), Antonia Thomas (Actor) Mannerisms: reserved, sits on things not intended for sitting, still, psychology squat Posture: body conscious, occasional slouch, occasionally masculine, generally open Scars: throat, left torso line from 3dmg whipping, full body wear & tear, calloused hands Tattoos: spinal cervical & upper thoracic vertebrae with eglantine roses (applicable verses), other various floral & medical inspired that vary with verse Piercings: hips, potentially nipples & christina Birthmarks: right ribcage, faint full body freckles Neurobiological Divergencies: post traumatic stress, pituitary adenoma & resultant chronic amenorrhea / infertility, gender dysphoria Most Noticeable Features: widow’s peak, facial moles, hair style, body modifications (in the context of Paradis: detached earlobes, darker skin tone) Scent: light musk, alcohol disinfectant, jasmine flowers, machinery, worn leather Voice: soft, soothing, calm, low, raspy (ref Juliet Simms, Izzy Hale) Accent: native w/ occasional foreign slip Style Preference: subtle, sensual, practical, relaxed Clothing Preference: leather, lace, lingerie

Then (childhood & late adolescence)

Place of Birth: remote Underground City (San Francisco, California) Hometown: remote Underground City Birth Weight: small Birth Height: small Manner of Birth: natural First Words: “no” Siblings: Beau Zinone (older half-brother), Milius Zeramusky (estranged younger half-brother) Parents: Risa Zinone (biological mother), Dmitry Zeramusky (estranged biological father) Parental Involvement: solely raised by Risa, strict but unavoidably negligent (varies by verse) Pets: lab rats First Memory: Beau’s guitar music Most important Childhood Memory: escaping home, learning medicine from the town doctor Childhood Hero: Beau Dream Job: medic Education: doctorate / phd Religion: subtle spiritual / pagan influence from Risa Political Affiliation: forced subjection unto subterranean fascism / noble dictatorship, believed in anarchy Finances: severe poverty

Now (adulthood)

Current Residence: Scouting Legion Headquarters Currently Living With: soldiers Pets: messenger dove, Scouting Legion horse, occasional animal rescues Religion: agnostic Political Affiliation: Scouting Legion Occupation: Scouting Legion Head Medical Officer Finances: military grade Close Friends: Leo Castile (former Garrison comrade, current Military Police Officer), various Garrison & Scouting Legion comrades, verse & muse dependent Driver’s License. motorcycle & ambulance (modern verse), potential aviation training in fanonverse post-Marley arc Criminal Record: manslaughter, gang affiliation, fraud, treason, possession of forbidden knowledge & materials, murder, dismantling military property, theft, soliciting (as applicable to modern verses) Vices: adrenaline

Favorites

Color: morning sky spectrum (pale blues, oranges, yellows) Music: dance, upbeat Food: bland, Italian, cinnamon, bitter, acidic Drink: alcohol, black coffee & tea, water Literature: nonfiction Entertainment: documentaries Transportation: motorcycle, 3dmg Loves: jasmine flowers Hates: ignorance, arrogance, preventable harm Hobbies: origami, tinkering, sketching, dancing, studying, gardening (medicinal herbs & jasmines) Social Media: instagram Musical Instrument: percussion Sport: belly dancing, field hockey, weight lifting, pole dancing, burlesque Spending Habits: conservative, occasional splurges on lingerie & gifts

Habits

Smokes: verse dependent Drinks: occasionally Other Drugs: verse dependent Diet: lax, cheap convenience, prone to mooching Extremely Skilled At: medical treatment, innovation, sewing Extremely Unskilled At: self-care, cooking, swimming Nervous Tics: (rare) bouncing, hair twirling, pacing

Talents & Skills

Combat: average Physical Strength: above average Coordination/Reflexes: average Fighting Style: invertive Unusual Abilities/Powers: n/a Weapons/Other Gear: switchblade, Wallflower bladed fan

Sex & Romance

Sexual Orientation: asexual (as an umbrella term) Romantic Orientation: aromantic (as an umbrella term) Preferred Emotional Role: submissive  |  dominant  | switch Preferred Sexual Role: submissive  |  dominant |  (service) switch Libido: low Turn On’s: undefined Turn Off’s: impact play, humiliation, arrogance, selfishness, bigotry, immaturity, & potential others Love Language: acts of physical care & service, gift-giving, quality time, unconditional support

Themes & Alignments

Right or Left Brained: left Moral: chaotic good MBTI: INFP-A MBTI Role: mediator Temperament: phlegmatic Western Zodiac: pisces Chinese Zodiac: rooster Primal Sign: frog Tarot Card: the empress TV Tropes: adaptation personality change (by verse), admiring the abomination (titans), caged bird metaphor, collector of the strange, deconstructed character archetype, functional addict, interpretive character, jack of all trades, kitsch collection, literally prized possession, now let me carry you, #1 dime, (a metric fuckton of others too hard to tease out from the masses) Representative Songs: Half God Half Devil by In This Moment, Inside Out ft. Charlee by the Chainsmokers, The Song of the Caged Bird by Lindsey Stirling, Meet Me on the Battlefield by Svrcina, Safe & Sound by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars, Deep in the Meadow by Jennifer Lawrence, Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling ft. Izzy Hale, Call of Silence by Hiroyuki Sawano

Views

Self Image: morally & skillfully assertive, personally self-conscious How others picture her: tbd How she views the future and the past: important to one’s current situation, but irrelevant to one’s character

Perception

Public face: mildly concerned Mood most often in: neutral Sense of humor: dry, sassy, deadpan Temper: mild

Miscellaneous

Hopes and dreams: become a mother, have a family, save lives Fears and Nightmares: loneliness, inadequacy, emptiness Best Quality: reliability Greatest Flaw: self-conscious Character Strengths: medical care Character Weaknesses: pvp combat Quirks: half smiles, nonconventional sitting Greatest Joy: spending time with children, young soldiers, loved ones Greatest Fear: aplatonic intimacy (as well as its lack), loneliness Biggest wish: soldiers to arrive home safely Soft spot: children, the vulnerable Biggest regret: murder Biggest accomplishment: escaping from a titan’s stomach & jaws Most valued possession(s): switchblade, notebooks, red hair ribbon Darkest secret: gender & sexuality troubles Motivation: her soldiers Immediate goals: survive & ensure the survival of others Long term goals: mechanical/medical improvement, family Polite or rude: dependent/neutral Stingy or generous: generous Leader or a follower: as needed Alone or in a group: alone Optimist or pessimist: realist Introvert or extrovert: introvert Logical or emotional: logical Messy or neat: neat Working or relaxing: working Confident or unsure: realistic Animal lover: yes

// updated 7/24/2020

[mooifyourecows]

Ok, but what would happen if everyone gets Iwa for a certain amount of time for fun?

Poor Iwa tbh.

He’d probably have a good time with Daichi. They’re both mature and chill dudes so maybe they go for a jog through the park and get some brunch, just talking about stuff no one else really wants to talk about with them because it’s “too boring.”

Asahi probably has a few recipes that he really needs an unbiased opinion on, considering Noya will shout love and support for just about anything, which yeah, is really nice but totally not helpful. Iwa can be a bit of a glutton so he totally digs this sort of date, just eating yummy food and hanging out like two bros who aren’t absolutely insane do.

Kenma would be alright too. Since Iwa’s kind of the designated voice of reason, he would probably get Kenma to do a little bitching about Kuroo, then they’d play some Rocket League and it’d be nice and quiet and relaxing.

Iwa with Kuroo on the other hand............ basically the entire allotted time would be Kuroo begging for advice on how to be just a fraction of how perfect Iwaizumi is, which means lots of “how the hell do I not burst into tears every time I orgasm?” By the end of it, Iwa knows way more than he ever wanted to know about Kuroo, and is Tired™.

Time with Noya is LOUD™ but also pretty relaxing. Nishinoya is just the type of guy that Iwaizumi likes. He’s manly and grabs life by the horns. If he has a problem, he SOLVES IT!!!! No wishy washy behavior here! They probably go to a buffet and eat a fuckton of meat.

Akaashi’s turn is just a whooooole lotta sex talk. Mostly Akaashi interviewing him, taking notes in his notebook. Iwaizumi takes Akaashi’s side in the whole “Bokuto is the slowest virgin ever” war, so he goes ahead and humors him, answering most of his questions as best he can.

Iwaizumi spends his time with Bokuto hittin’ him with that tough love he needs so badly to get his ass in gear. Then they go work out a little. PUMPIN’ IRON BUDDIESSSS

Hanamaki takes Iwaizumi out for a “job”. Makki is the sweet talker. Iwa is the muscle. He doesn’t really know exactly what happens, but he ends up with a big wad of cash in his wallet so he just goes with it.

Matsukawa tries to coax Iwa into letting him give him a full physical, but Iwaizumi refuses after, “Please remove your pants”. They sit on the couch eating ice cream and watching their guilty pleasure shows instead. Later when everyone asks what they did, they make something up and swear never to tell that they spent the entire time watching Real Housewives of Atlanta and Golden Girls.

Sugawara’s turn is admittedly really fun. After spending a good half hour making fun of Oikawa behind his back, they go and test drive expensive cars. Then stop by a sex shop and make some purchases, talking some more shit about Iwa’s lovely fiance~. They go to a dog cafe and drink coffee and play with the dogs, then swing by an art gallery on their way back. Iwa enjoys listening to Sugawara pick apart the paintings and then does the same about the sculptures, finally suspending the theme of dragging Oikawa in order to praise him as superior to the other artists.

Finally, Iwaizumi finishes up with the one and only Oikawa Tooru. Desperate to be number one, Oikawa has a full meal waiting for him when he gets home. The apartment is clean too. And Oikawa is wearing that shirt and those pants that Iwaizumi always makes sure to point out that he really likes whenever he wears them. He doesn’t even complain that Iwaizumi hasn’t given him enough attention all day. In fact, he greets him with a kiss and a promise to give him a massage after dinner and it’s really a shame because that dinner never gets eaten and that massage never happens because Iwaizumi tosses him right over his shoulder and hauls him off to bed because yeah, dates are fun but only when he’s with that one annoying guy that rules his entire world.

There’s really just no contest.

[venenix]

i had nothing to do today (it’s a lie, i have like a fuckton of things to do and i’m not doing any even at this very moment) so here a list of fics i deeply enjoyed and that y’all should read because they are The Good Shit™

By Any Other Name by APaletteFullOfYou: okay, so this fic has it all. you like flowers? this fic got ya. you like the deep bromance between yuuri and phichit? bam, the fic got your back. you like flowers and puns? j a c k  p o t. guys i’m telling you this is so good and i hope to see more in a very near future because i just can’t wait (if you’re reading this, whoever you are, author, please, update, my crops are dying, my soul is leaving my body, give me something.,)

Storge by FullmetalChords: everybody loves a good family fic with all the bonding between yuuri and yuri, all the fluff, but like the very good fluff, the one that leaves you lying on the floor gently sobbing onto the tiles because you cannot believe that your own two eyes could read something like that. i loved it, it’s one of those 5+1, so a good bonus!!! everybody loves it, i love it, you’ll love it too!!!

Never Look Away by gabapple & mamodewberry: listen to me. and listen very carefully. i dread the fics where their goal is to retrace all the canon stuff by writing it down and adding things up as you go. but this. this is 120k+ words fic (still going!!!!!) of pure happiness and fluff and angst all together and i cannot understand how. it tracks the canon episodes while giving all the introspection i crave and the good and natural interactions i desire between viktor and yuuri. it’s long but you’re not gonna regret it, believe me. also, child viktor owns my life, my soul and my bank account.

Katsudon by azriona: you know how hard it is. to find fics. based on pure motherly love. and the unstoppable force of fluff and family love. while still giving you the sweet and nice viktuuri everyone crave? guys, this fic is like eating a pie. but not any pie, it’s the pie of your dreams. it’s the pie you regret not eating at the shop you passed by thinking ‘eh, i don’t need it right now‘. it’s the pie that smells like cinnamon and it is served with coffee or your favourite tea while outside is pouring and you can hear your favourite song at the radio, guys, do you understand how good can it be this fic? yeah, i don’t think so, go read it now

Closing Shift by yaboykatsudon: it’s a retail au. it’s the au that silently everybody wants because everyone undeniably understand what it’s like working in a job where you are really close in losing your shit because of dumb clients and you silently like to project on fictional character who can, in an ideal world, say ‘fuck you’ to rude people. even tho in this viktor is a lovely cashier who likes to talk to old people and yuuri had just started his job. also, please, if you’re reading this, update, my crops are dying,,,

The Carnage of the Art by ExorcisingEmily: before we start, kudos to that title because it’s #verygood. so the fic is yuri p. centric and it revolves around how he’s dealing with a career theatening injury and it’s a w o n d e r. there’s angst but then!!!! there’s fluff!!! the angst is cured by love and the power of family!!!! go read it, it’s 10 chapters of Very Good Shit

the nostalgic feeling of the familiar by myoue : HOLD THE FUCK UP, BECAUSE THIS IS GONNA GET REAL GOOD. so for those who don’t know i really really love the fake engaged au. and guess what is this!!!!!! a very long fic still in progress with a fake engaged au!!! their relationship may be fake but their slow burn is not!!!! nor my raging need for more unpdates after the cliffhanger!!!! also, their writing is #goals so please go read it

just like insects by synthpopp: and guess what else i really really like!!! ghost presence au!!!!! and guess what is this!!!! a fic where yuuri dies after an incident an remains in his apartment which happens to be bought by viktor who just happens to have the ability to see ghosts, H O W  W O N D E R F U L and you know what else would be wonderful? an update, because i’m dying

 After Everyone Else by dance_across: the summary for this fic is f u c k literally and metaphorically speaking. this is a chris/viktor/yuuri so idk if you’re interested but i assure it’s really good, it has a wonderful introspection, wonderful characterisation and i love everything about it because it is written so well

cast off all my bandages and see what happens next by infiniteandsmall: kudos to you too for the title because it’s !!!!!! tiny viktor again owns everything i have, including my own beautiful nana and my bank account. the interaction between viktor and chris are beautiful and i want to drown myself in my own tears because they’re so good and cute and i want for them eternal happiness and good things

anarchy for sale! t-shirts only ten dollars by spookyfoot: will it ever come a day where i won’t like puns and bad humour and really bad shirt with really bad puns as a trope in a fic? no, never, and i bet neither will you, because this is so good, yuuri wearing embarassing t-shirts and phichit totally down with that because he totally thinks it’s his style and viktor indulging into this, hands down to the best comedy, 10/10 would probably read again

soldier boy, tripping over himself to win my praise by thissupposedcrime: okay, i’ll start saying that from these point these are all otayuri and are all good. but this one. this one is like Heaven™ the writing is #goal the characterisation is something out of this world the titles of every chapter, including the general title, are taken from hamilton the musical lyrics, i mean, what could you ask for more???? nothing because this is perfect??? i cannot believe also, i suggest you to check everything they wrote, so also blowing kisses to hurt you and everytime i try, everytime i win

we got soul and we got gold by barricadeuse: this is an on going series and i hope she got more in store for me because i want more of this writing and this awkward yuri and i want more of what in italian we call “disagio”

[wholitzukoonfire]

Modern/YouTubers AU Klance Pride Headcanon [Part 1]

So this is from a hc convo I was having with my klance shipping buddy @destielschild 

So basically klance meet at a Pride parade and these are also my general Voltron gang Pride headcanons. 

So the voltron team is split into 2 friendship groups Lance’s friendship group (Hunk, Hunk’s moms, Shay, and Lance’s lesbian sister - Elena)

Hunk 

Hunk in this au is the lovable straight ally - he’s been to Pride every year since he was a child because of his Moms, it’s a thing they do - a tradition. 

He and Shay are dating they are the most adorable couple 

He’s wearing his “I <3 my moms” rainbow shirt and its so wholesome

He once got shouted at by an angry gay for being there and not being LGBTQ+, but Mom Ana tore the guy a new one telling him how supportive and amazing her beautiful son is.

This year he’s holding a sign that says “You know it’s bad when a straight guy is marching” - you know the one

He and Shay have a YouTube cooking channel called Hunkalicious and PassTheShay cook things - They’re pretty well known and do lots of collabs with Lance.

Their YouTube name is Hunk-A-love-&-A-Pinch-A-Shay 

(They have so many Shay is Salt memes bc she can be sALTY AF when needed)

Hunk also has a side gaming/sciene-y things channel (How he met Pidge) 

Shay

Shay is bisexual

The two of them are so in love and sometimes they sit in coffee shops and admire pretty girls together (Shay always adds on ‘Of course she’s not nearly as pretty as you.’ Hunk is the prettiest boy fight me on this. he giggles every time and blushes)

She’s wearing a ‘bisexu-whale’ top Hunk got her bc she majors in marine bio and she ADORES whales.

Lance

Lance is tagging along with Hunk’s crew - He hasn’t been out for long (his family are v Catholic and traditionally Cuban - his dad didn’t speak to him for a month after he came out) and it’s his first EVER Pride.

He’s super nervous although he’s literally been adopted into the Garrett family he feels like hes intruding tagging along on their traditional Pride march.

Shay notices INSTANTLY and makes him feel right at home in the bi community.

“Lance, I know you haven’t been out for long, but you are a valid bisexual, no matter what anyone says, your sexuality is yours to define and nobody else’s. You belong here.”

(This is why we love Shay) Lance cries for five minutes and is enveloped in a group hug.

Shay paints Bi hearts onto Lance’s cheeks (one gets smudged but he doesn't care) 

He does his make up (he hardly every wears make up, but he loves doing it) - Purple to pink to blue eyeshadow, and a touch of eyeliner.

Of course he also sprinkles a fuckton of pink glitter over himself, the Moms, Hunk and Shay

Lance is a pretty well known YouTuber - SirLancelot (he does mostly Vlogs, make-up tutorials, random funnies, relatables videos, occasional gaming sessions and he also pops up frequently on Hunk and Shay’s channel - it’s adorable and when Lance is involved they’re always “w/ the bestie” videos) And he decided to Vlog the whole thing - telling his subscribers in a mini vid that he’d be going to his first Pride and uploading a Vlog of it the following day. 

When he first get’s there there are so many people and it’s all so much he thinks he might just faint, but as soon the Parade starts, Lance is on cloud nine. Hunk is manning the Vlog camera (he offered to as it’s Lances first one and he wants Lance to enjoy it)and captures Lance grinning and chanting and waving his “AIN’T NO LIE BABY, BI BI BI” sign with gusto.

He turns to grin at Hunk who is literally internally screaming and shaking Shay gushing to the camera about “LOOK AT HIM! HE’S SO HAPPY AND ADORABLE!!! HE LOOKS SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM SHAY- MY BEST FRIEND!! I’M SO PROUD!”

Lance is wearing a “my BI-FI signal is strong” shirt that the moms got him. 

Elena 

Lance’s sister, they’re the same age - her mom is actually Lance’s Aunt, but the pregnancy was accidental and Camille never wanted children, so at aged 5 when Camille finally told her mother to stuff it and that she did not want children - Rosa took Elena in as one of her own

From then on the two of them were permanently joined at the hip (Elena is just as goofy and just as stubborn as Lance - and both of them are strong willed and will Fight You about womens rights, POC rights and LGBT+ rights)

She is a Lesbian™

She came out when she was 15 - she had a massive crush on her best friend Lucy and told mom and Lance first (their other siblings found out through evesdropping and general sneakiness) and told dad a few days before her Quinces. He didn’t show up so when the father-daughter dance came up Lance was the one who calmly got up - as if it were meant to be him up there with her and danced with her as she tried not to cry. And the first person Lance told he might be Bi was Elena. (She always kinda knew)

She regularly features in Lance’s videos (she sort of half lives at his and Hunk’s place - crashes on the couch every other night) known (early on) in Lance’s post-moving-in-with-Hunk videos as That Cuban Lesbian™ who always interrupts Lance’s videos to complain or yell at him in Spanish. Ofc anyone who’s a real Lancelot fan knows who she is. 

She was in his Coming Out video where he told the world he was Bi - and they called mom together, for support, and then told Hunk. (Hunk cried many tears)

She had a Very Gay™ crush on Shay when they first met and it’s a running joke that Hunk got to Shay first and that Elena is Bitter about this.

She has a mini lesbian flag tattooed onto her shoulder blade - Lance went with her to get it.

Keith’s friendship group (Pidge, Shiro, Matt, Allura, Coran and Alfor)

Pidge

Pidge is Nonbinary They/Them or occasionally She/Her pronouns

They identify as an Ace Lesbian (just hear me out - cute dates where Pidge is all flustered bc Pretty Girl!!! And just talking about Science Stuff™ and blushing aaraarrrrrrrgggghhhh)

Pidge is also a YouTuber but like an actual Big Time™ YouTuber - They used to be HackerKatie but then they came out and changed their name so now they’re HackerPidge (If you’ve ever watched MilesChronicals that is what Pidge’s Channel is like - also a Gaming Channel - for Gaming) 

They live in a space-y flat with Keith, Shiro and Matt but they’re like never there??? (Once they straight up disappeared for a week and one morning Keith walked into the kitchen to just see Pidge sat on top of the fridge eating a bowl of Lucky Charms™)

One time they pulled a massive prank on Shiro (which they ofc recorded and put on YouTube) and when Shiro found out he banned them from YouTube and all Social Media for two weeks. Turns out that was a Bad Idea™ because Pidge fans (Hacklets) started Major Discourse on Twitter and Tumblr bc they didn’t get updates and there was nothing on Pidge’s social media (there was a theory that Pidge was dead). Shiro allowed Pidge back on YouTube and stuff and Pidge made a video explaining with Shiro in the back of the video holding one of those Shame Signs that said “I banned my child from social media for two weeks and accidentally started an internet war”

wait wasn’t this supposed to be about Pride???

help

Pidge is wearing a top that says “Male/Female/Don’t worry about it” - their galaxy backpack is littered with buttons about gender (e.g. ‘ask me about my pronouns’, and the nonbinary flag) and their sexuality (e.g. ‘beautiful day to love girls’, ‘girls, girls, girls’ etc.)

They have the nb flag and the lesbian flag painted on their cheeks and THEY/THEM painted in block capitals on their forehead.

NEXT PERSON

Shiro and Matt

Shiro is a very Bi Dad Brother and he is Very Tired™

Matt is the Gayest being you will ever meet.

He and Matt have been dating since High school, they were best friends until Matt blurted at Prom to the entire student body that he’d been in love with Shiro since middle school

Shiro felt the same and they started dating (The entire school was relieved - there were betting pools on when one or the other was finally going to fess up)

They have a joint YouTube channel (GaysInSpace - Matt-Man and SpaceDad) Its mostly a fitness/yoga and some make-up videos (they did the Boyfriend Does My Make-up - it was horrendous) He did a galaxy make-up tutorial ONCE because he and Matt had just got into loads of space shows/films and was forever named SpaceDad because of it. 

They mostly do couples yoga and fitness videos which generally turn into shenanigans after the first like ten minutes - they are the power couple of space and their fans named themselves the ‘Gaybies’

Shiro and Matt have matching shirts and hoodies 

Hoodies: Matt - If found return to Shiro / Shiro: Keep him.

T Shirts: Matt - My Boyfriend is Bi-Lingual (bc Shiro can speak fluent Japanese) / Shiro - My boyfriend’s gay, but I’m not. 

They have their flags painted on their faces - Gay for Matt and Bi for Shiro.

Matt bought a giant gay flag at the start of the parade and has since tied it around his shoulders 

Shiro’s holding a sign that on the front says “God said Adam and Eve so I did both” but on the back has a message that Matt hasn’t seen “My boyfriend has no clue I’m going to propose today.”

Shiro proposes halfway through the parade (Lance’s group was actually just a little behind them and he and Hunk caught the entire thing on camera). The music from the parade cut out and all of their closes high school friends, Shiro’s dad and Matt’s parents emerge from the crowd whilst a song they both adore (“Marry Me” by Jessica Smith - when Lance uploads the video he makes sure to link the song in the description to credit the artist) starts to play, Shiro gets passed a mic and he starts to sing (his voice isn’t perfect but it’s damn good) When the chorus (May All Recognise Real love Yours and mine Make all love Equal) comes on the friends and family members hold up the lyrics to spell out MARRY ME. Matt is completely stunned (the gay flag cape had been stolen by Keith earlier so at least he didn’t look like a complete idiot) Then Shiro’s getting down on one knee and opening a box with a ring in it at Matt’s crying. 

“What do you say, Cadet? Wanna get hitched?”

“Oh for christ- Just put the ring on my finger and kiss me idiot!” 

Matt’s still crying as Shiro slides the band onto Matt’s finger and swoops up for a kiss, before turning around to yell “HE SAID YES!”

The crowd goes wild

Allura

Allura is a beautiful Lesbian and she and Elena get on swimmingly (Elena has the biggest crush on her and she and Lance cry about how beautiful she is from her videos)

Her user is PrincessOfAltea she does beauty tips and tricks as well as a gaming channel - she’s surprisingly good and is one of The Best players in a game called Altea (It’s an RPG Quest series) - her subscribers love how amazing she is and she usually plays with Matt, Pidge, and Shiro - Keith sometimes joins in and he’s surprisingly good. 

She’s Alfor and Coran’s daughter (Alfor’s biologically - they got a surrogate mother - who they still keep in contact with - she’s Ace/Aro and also goes to Pride with them but she couldn’t make it this year)

(Coran is wearing this )

She met Shiro through working out at the same gym - He mad a mini bi crush on her and gushed to Matt about the Pretty Girl at the gym for weeks

(Matt didn’t get too jealous - as soon as he lent over and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s lips, he would generally shut up about Pretty Girl and think about Pretty Boyfriend instead)

Allura is covered head-to-foot in glitter (as are Coran and Alfor) because of an incident that happened at Shiro’s flat with Pidge, a pop-tart and glitter Allura was opening to dab on her face. 

She has the lesbian flag painted like war paint on her cheeks and a pastel top with two girls kissing on it that says “Girls like Girls like Boys Do” on it. 

She’s also parading around with a sign that says “I love my emo gay son” with a picture of Keith’s face on it.

Keith

Keith has been out for years. Literally since he was thirteen. 

(He came out via a dinner conversation, when Matt was over for dinner at the Shirogane Household one evening. Matt had been talking about how all teenage boys are supposed to be obsessed with girls and wanting to date girls etc. and Keith had simply said “Well I don’t like any girls but I was in calculus the other day with Jared and I thought he looked cute. I wouldn’t mind being his boyfriend.”  A bug eyed Papa Shirogane had asked “Keith are you gAY?” - Keith had asked what that meant and after Shiro had explained “B-boys who l-like other b-boys... romantically.” Keith had shrugged dismissively and said “Well I guess then, yeah, I am.”)

He’d also been watching SirLancelot’s videos since Lance had begun YouTubing (at first they’d just been braces-Lance and Hunk prank videos and relatables middle schoolers version) And has pretty much been In Love since.

However, this was Keith’s first ever Pride - the only reason he’d actually agreed to go was because he knew Shiro planned to propose and he didn’t want to miss that, despite the overwhelming threat of an large-crowd-induced anxiety attacks.

He’d gone with a simple gay outfit, black shorts, ratty converse, flannel around his waist, rainbow suspenders and a tank top Shiro had gotten him especially (that said Too Gay For This World)

At first Keith had refused to wear it (he secretly adores this top and Shiro Knows)

He has his own YouTube channel which isn't isn’t nearly as popular as Lance’s - but he has a solid fanbase

His user is CryptidKeith and his channel is called The Keith-Files - Conspiracy Theories

His fans are called his Cryptids and he is continuously referred to as “The Wild Keef” due to a comment Pidge once made in one of their Conspiracy collabs

Of course Hunk and Pidge have done many collabs and when its mentioned that most going are YouTubers they decide to meet up and introduce their friendship groups - Lance decides to vlog it all as he is anyway - First Pride.

[Part 1]/[Part 2]

[dememarquette]

GSI AU

[Prelude] - Part One - Part Two

IN THE JANKY HALLS OF THE GSI OFFICES…

No sun, no air, hardly the sound of another human being unless you count the incessant scrabbling of pen against paper (though it sounds much more like a convict taking a spoon to the concrete wall), the tepid wasteland of GSI offices lay nestled beneath the extravagant offices of tenured professors. You know you’ve made it when you have a window in your office. For now, the majority of us sit ass to elbows and wait for a student to pass by so we can, at last, feel useful.

The next time you think the life of a graduate student is glamorous, think again. I’m here to tell you that we hate ourselves just as much as you hate us for calling you out on your shitty paper.

Yes, in the dark underbelly of each building hides a squadron of graduate students furiously pedaling away to keep the electricity going. Don’t forget it, and make sure you clear out by 6 pm because that’s when we all emerge to return home, bringing doom and gloom up to the surface alongside us.

I glance at the clock. 5:59 pm. Time to go. Everything is packed into a folder, a binder, a pencil case with a compartment for each pen and pencil, and then I’m good to go, hitting the light switch on my way out to startle the remainder of the graduate team. They blink at me owlishly atop piles of empty coffee cups like dragons hoarding gold.

That, at least, gets me ten feet out the door before I have to backpedal. When you’re on the way home, it takes the supernatural to hold you back. That or the foul stench of defamation.

Amongst the chaos of the bulletin board, the brightly-colored posters and the stray cry for help (DISSERTATION EDITOR NEEDED IMMEDIATELY!! And IS MONOGAMY A LIE??), all that’s left of my flyer is a corner. In its place stands a Spotify promotion disguised as an educational flyer, in turn disguising Gwen Stefani as music. It reads:

LINGUSTICS. THIS SH!T IS BANANAS. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

I glare at it for a minute before tearing it down and putting my flyer back up.

The next day, Gwen Stefani glares right back at me.

***

“Alright, so remember we have a quiz on Thursday, and that English uses Greek as an embellishment, but in Greek those words are simple as hell and make you sound like an idiot. Martyr. Witness. Phobia.” I shrug. “Fear.”

I shove my folder into my bag and zip it shut, nearly getting my finger caught in the zipper. Fuck. Play it off. “Okay, now get out of here and take Greek 1.”

The students miserably shuffle out the door. The girl in the back was pounding two thermoses of something all throughout lecture, either coffee or liquor—maybe both. I don’t blame her. It’s about that time where the line in my office goes right out the door and to the bathroom around the corner. Please, the desperate college student begs, I will literally die if I don’t get a B in this class.

Well, fuck. Just die then because it isn’t going to happen.

I lean against the podium and watch the back row clear out. I’m not in a particularly forgiving mood this semester. Too many apathetic faces staring at me, but at least I’ve come to a tacit agreement with my students. We’re all here against our will. They’re here because, as first-year undergrads, they have shit registration times and got stuck with a 7 am Greek Religion class, and I’m here because I tragically split hot coffee on my advising professor’s pantsuit. Twice.

When the last person leaves the classroom, I immediately deflate onto the table and groan. It’s an impressive groan that lasts for at least a minute, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

“Wow. What an impressive groan.”

I don’t have enough self-respect to lift up my head. “Yup,” I say. “I’ve been practicing.”

“It’s paying off. Hey, do you mind moving a bit to your left? I gotta plug my laptop in.”

I move the chair to the left. The dude has adventurous taste in footwear. When’s the last time I saw a pair of monk straps? The answer is there was never a time. I have never seen a pair of monk straps in person, other than on myself. So you got me, dude. I’m down on my self-respect but I would never turn down a chance to look at the owner of a magnificent pair of shoes.

I look up. As expected, his shoes are the best part of him.

“Okay,” I say, abruptly standing up. “Farewell.”

“See you.”

Why, Erebus? You could have stayed, the two of you could have talked shop! You never find another GSI wearing anything outside the category of high school boy footwear. Yeah, I could’ve killed myself too, doesn’t mean I’m going to do it. I laid there for five minutes, and now my workload has interested by a corresponding five minutes. Ugh.

I step out of the classroom and maneuver around the crowd of students lining up to enter the room, forcing me to go a different route. I trot down the hall—with dignity, might I add, which is a lot harder than it sounds. Trotting is generally undignified, but I am all dignity.

That is, until I come across an entire wall of Gwen Stefani posters pinned all over the Center of Religious Studies corkboard. The paper taped on top of the board reads: DO NOT POST WITHOUT PERMISSION. I’m pretty fucking sure Spotify didn’t get permission from the department.

I have a fuckton of work sitting on my desk and last month’s test scores are backlogged in the system, but I also have a stapler in my bag and a whole stack of event flyers hot off the press. Why the hell not?

It takes me fifteen minutes to rip down the entire wall of Gwen and replace the posters with my own. I leave one defiled Spotify poster, just as you leave one man alive in an army you slaughter. You know. As a warning.

***

“610, Muhammed receives a message from the angel Gabriel. He is told the Arabs must follow the Abrahamic God, and that he is the chosen prophet, Jesus Christ’s legitimate successor. The Eastern Christian Church already split from the Greek Orthodox Church at this point in time—why? The Romans were—man, the Romans were off their game. Christianity no longer emphasized discipline and moral fiber, but Muslims did. That’s why the Romans were so offended by Islam. Because it was, essentially, a purer form of Christianity.”

There’s a lecture this Friday on the beginning of Islam and its relation to Greek Orthodox Christianity. If you’re interested, look at the poster board outside the classroom.”

Apparently, I spoke too soon. When I went into the classroom, my flyer was up. When I went out, it was replaced by Gwen Stefani. Fuck.

“I hate you,” I say to Gwen, pressing my nose right up into the flyer.

Someone clears their throat behind me. “You a big fan of Gwen Stefani?”

“You wouldn’t ask a Jew if they were into Hitler. Why would you ask an East Asian if they’re into Gwen Stefani?”

“Woah.”

“Yup. Totally wish I could take that back. But hey I haven’t made eye contact with you yet so this conversation never happened. Goodbye.” I scuttle away, keeping my eyes on the floor. Oh. It’s monk strap guy. Good to see you again.

Back in my office, there’s a post-it note on my desk summoning me to the department head’s office that afternoon. I’ve done a lot of questionable things that would warrant a summoning—I’m going to need more fingers to count the possible things this meeting could be about. Uhm. As a historian of Islamic history, I’ve been reported as a ISIS-sympathizer. One time a white supremacist reported me for being racist, which was fun.

I wait on the bench outside her office, flanked by Gwen Stefani posters. I drop my head in my hands and groan.

“Oh hey, Hitler dude. What’s up?” Someone sits down beside me when the entire bench is available.

“Gwen Stefani.”

“What?”

“No, seriously. Look up.”

Monk strap guy looks up and squints at the poster before snorting. “Shit. Okay, that one was definitely not me.”

“Wait—what?” No. Don’t do this to me. Don’t let my only acquaintance who has ascended far above Adidas and Nikes be—be a Gwen Stefani sympathizer. “Are you the one posting all these fucking Gwen Stefanis everywhere?”

“Are you the one replacing my posters with, what was it, Religious Studies?”

“Replacing—I’m not the one replacing them. You replaced mine first, and it’s Center! CENTER for Religious Studies, and I’m restoring the poster boards to their original glory, their—their academic glory! There is no academic glory or integrity in Gwen Stefani.”

“Oh. I thought we had a friendly rivalry going on.”

“We aren’t friends,” I hiss. “We are enemies.”

“That’s cool too.” He extends his hand and I stare at it suspiciously. “I’m Demetri.”

“I’m Erebus, and I don’t shake hands. Germs.” Right as I do jazz-hands, the department head’s office door opens and I get up to go. I turn back, narrowing my eyes at Demetri. “This is a ceasefire. Stay off my turf and we’re all good.”

Demetri shrugs. “Sure.”

***

The following day, David Bowie’s face on my office door squints back at me.

[sage-nebula]

This post is long overdue, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it:

I am so, so, so, so beyond sick of reserved / stoic characters who have legitimate reasons to be upset (i.e. are trauma survivors) being mocked, derided, and called “emo edgelords” by fandom.

It doesn’t matter which fandom. I don’t have to specify. This happens in every fandom I can think of, or at least ones that I’ve either been part of recently, or took up significant parts of my adolescence. Regardless of which fandom it is, you’ll have a character (male or female, doesn’t matter) who has been through some significantly traumatizing, awful event in their lives. That character will then exhibit behaviors which are normal for abuse survivors to exhibit; they’ll isolate themselves, they’ll be withdrawn, sometimes they’ll experience difficulty with emotional regulation, they’ll have difficulty forming relationships and bonds with others, et cetera. Inevitably, once these characters exhibit these traits, at best they’ll be turned into emo edgelord jokes within fandom, and at worst they’ll be bashed for being assholes simply because they’re not perky, friendly, or accommodating to all of the perky, friendly characters within the series.

And I’m sick of it.

I’m sick of it for a multitude of reasons, but I’ll try to keep this organized. Keep in mind that this is going to be a very long post (with a lot of examples touching on multiple fandoms, such as Naruto, Voltron: Legendary Defender, and Pokémon, but it’s important to me so I ask you to stick with it until the end anyway, if you decide to give it a read.)

First, foremost, and most basic (i.e. this isn’t the important reason, that comes later---CTRL+F for “dichotomy” without quotes if you want to skip to that) is the fact that this is a gross misuse of the word “emo.” “Emo” is a slang term, short for emotional, and in the several decades in which I have heard it used, it has always referred to those who engage in overblown melodrama. Emo characters or people are those who lament the “tragedies” of their lives, and the air quotes are purposeful, because their “tragedies” are not “tragedies” at all, but instead encompass things such as the taco cart running out of tacos on Taco Day before the person gets there, or their mascara going chunky, or their crush not noticing them despite them doing nothing to be noticed. These people then cry, wail about their misfortune, and go on and on about how no one could possibly hope to understand their very mundane, very relatable drama. 

That’s emo. That is what being emo is. Emo is whining, emo is melodrama, emo is when you don’t actually have a problem, but goddamn if you aren’t going to complain about it anyway. Funnily enough, but that does not at all describe the characters fandom are often so quick to label “emo.”

The characters that are often labeled “emo” by the fandom are those characters who are reserved to the point of being stoic, who don’t open up about their problems, who keep to themselves and don’t say anything, sometimes to the point of imploding on themselves because, had they just shared their problems with someone else, at the very least they could have gotten emotional support, and at the most someone could have helped them with the very real problems they’re facing. Unlike an emo person who purposefully places themselves in your line of sight while looking sad so that someone will ask them what’s wrong and therefore they have an excuse to play up the melodrama, these characters clam up and do their damnedest to look as if they have everything under control because, in their minds, they have to have everything under control. They don’t whine. It’s the opposite. They keep it to themselves.

Further, these characters typically do have very real issues that bog them down. For example, Uchiha Sasuke from Naruto has been the poster child for “emo anime boy” for decades. Do you know why he’s reserved and prickly at the start of the series? Why, it’s because his entire family was slaughtered when he was seven, he walked in on the massacre, and then his family’s murderer---his own big brother---forced him to relive it again and again using psychological torture, in order to fill him with enough hatred to kill. Sasuke was seven, and that’s what he went through. This, on top of being raised as a child soldier like everyone else in the village. So forgive him if, at twelve, he’s not exactly warm and fuzzy and energetic. Forgive him if he’s not outwardly friendly when people wax on about how they wish they could be an orphan (Sakura), decide that he’s their rival whom they hate out of the blue (Naruto), or else ignore his boundaries and constantly try to force him to be what they want him to be without thinking for a second about what he might be comfortable with (Sakura and Naruto both). Sasuke isn’t being melodramatic about this. This is a very understandable thing to be upset about.

Or maybe we should take a look at Keith Kogane from Voltron: Legendary Defender. Much of Keith’s history is left in shadow at the moment, despite what the fandom might have you believe. However, what we do know is that he was orphaned at a young age, and at that time enrolled at the Galaxy Garrison, meaning that he a.) had no family in early childhood (and he’s only about sixteen / seventeen now), and b.) was essentially raised as a soldier. We know that he had Shiro for some form of support, but Shiro was an instructor at the Garrison, and as much as some of their interactions are brotherly, we also see behaviors between them that suggest commanding officer / subordinate. When Shiro disappeared a year pre-canon, Keith was ousted from the Galaxy Garrison for “disciplinary issues” and spent a year living by himself in the desert. Furthermore, Steve Yeun (Keith’s voice actor) has alluded to trauma in Keith’s past so bad that Keith himself can’t even really remember it. Put all of that together and what we have is a teenage boy who never had an opportunity to develop social skills, who never had a family, who never had friends, who has gone through some sort of trauma on top of everything that hits him over the course of the show . . . who, again, is not bubbly and friendly and cracking jokes like the other members of the cast who, it should be noted, did have families and friends growing up. Keith, due to his situation, ended up more reserved and awkward, something not helped when he’s rebuffed the few times he does (awkwardly and bluntly) try to bond with others. Keith’s not “emo” (something purported even by the show itself, to my disgust), particularly since he, once again, brushes things off and says he’s fine rather than whining on and on about his problems. He’s actually, in the words of Steve Yeun, “remarkably well-adjusted” for someone dealing with the amount of trauma he has.

Or maybe we should look at Alan from Pokémon, who is yet another example of a fandom’s “emo edgelord” even though, again, he pretty much never opens up about his problems (and only really does when Ash asks him about it), consistently says that he’s fine even when he isn’t, and downplays anything awful done to him in true abuse survivor fashion (there are psychological reasons behind this that my therapist has talked to me about re: my own trauma, but I won’t get into that now). He has---and we’ve seen this---been abused by Lysandre, the big bad, for a very long time now. He was manipulated into assisting with an attempted mass genocide and then was mocked for his emotional breakdown as a result of realizing what he did. He has survived incidental traumas (mostly relating to the legendary battles) on top of the prolonged emotional abuse at Lysandre’s hands. All of this makes more than understandable why he’s exhibiting symptoms of an abuse survivor. It makes it more than understandable that he’s not upbeat, perky, or friendly. He’s not “emo” because he’s reserved, withdrawn, and tries (unsuccessfully, unfortunately) to enforce his boundaries. He’s a well-written trauma survivor who’s doing the best he can with what he’s given, and yet is derided for it anyway.

Or how about another Pokémon character, hm? How about Gladion? Gladion, who is a boy even younger than Alan who was abused (we aren’t given the specifics of the type of abuse, though we know emotional played a part in it) by his mother for years, who then ran away and was homeless for two years, who is running out of money but is trying to scrape by even though he has no allies because even Team Skull is cold toward him? He’s a survivor of childhood abuse, homelessness, and neglect, but because he wears dark clothing (that is ripped because his pokémon constantly tears it) and dares to not be friendly and kind, he’s an “emo edgelord” in the eyes of the fandom. Because he dares to act like an abuse survivor might, he’s emo, and an edgelord, and an asshole.

And there are thousands of more examples that I could pull. These are just four examples out of thousands. And the worst part is that I’m sure there are some people who would see this and cry, “Okay, but surviving abuse doesn’t give them a right to be an asshole!” and that’s true! And I’m not advocating for that, before anyone tries to twist my words and discredit this post in an attempt to justify their distasteful behavior. With the exception of Sasuke (and his worst behavior only comes much later, after a fuckton more gallons of trauma and abuse), none of the characters on this list do anything even remotely close to earning the label of “abusive” or even “asshole” to be honest---and certainly not more than any other characters in their respective series. In fact?

Most of these characters, in their own way, often exhibit kindness.

Even Sasuke, before Itachi (his older brother) returned for the first time and re-traumatized him, tried to offer support to Naruto and Sakura and complimented them when they did something worth being complimented over. He nearly sacrificed his own life to protect Naruto’s in the first major plot arc, and offered words of encouragement to Sakura in the beginning of the Chuunin Exam to boost her self-esteem. Yes, he was reserved and never hesitated to tell someone how he felt when they aggravated him, but he did show kindness at times as well, when it was warranted. It just so happens that it was sparingly warranted, because to be honest, Sakura and Naruto treated him rather terribly from the get-go, despite their differing reasons and approaches. But that’s another story for another time.

Keith doesn’t hesitate to show support for his teammates and comrades. While he does blow up at Pidge for trying to leave the team in 1x4 (because, as you would expect from someone who was abandoned in early childhood and forced to fend for themselves, he has abandonment issues!), he then smiled and welcomed her back at the end of the same episode when she decided to stay. He tries to bond with Lance (awkwardly and bluntly) around the same time, laughs and jokes around with Hunk at a party, knows exactly how to support and encourage Hunk on their mission in the Weblum in late season two (and is the leader for that mission as a result), and throws himself in Zarkon’s path on two separate occasions in order to protect Shiro. In fact, Keith routinely throws himself in harm’s way in order to protect the rest of the team. The fact is, his “kindness” is not what is typically recognized as “kindness;” it’s quieter and reserved and more practical, because that’s how Keith is, but it’s there. He is kind and he is trying to be part of this team, regardless of how much people try to ignore that.

Alan, from his very first appearance, had been emotionally abused for quite a long time. He didn’t want Manon following him, and told her so repeatedly, though she chose to ignore his wishes and follow him anyway. Although he didn’t want her to follow him, he still stopped when he saw that she was having difficulty capturing a pokémon, and (because she was a newbie and he knew that) he offered her advice. She would not have caught that flabébé without him. He also reminded her that she needed to get said flabébé to the Pokémon Center after the capture to heal the poison, because she was so busy celebrating her successful capture that she momentarily forgot. Yes, he tried to ditch her after he guided her to the Pokémon Center, but they weren’t traveling companions---he hadn’t agreed to that. He helped her, because he’s kind, but he wasn’t under any obligation to stay. Nonetheless, although she continued to follow him in the second episode, he still continued to go out of his way to help her (TSME 2) and did his best to protect her (also TSME 2). He, as any good person would do, thanked her for helping him in TSME 3. He took the blame for her chespin’s coma in TSME 4 (even though, again, it wasn’t actually his fault) and made it his personal mission to see Manon smile again as a result. And you know what? He kept his promise. He risked life and limb to do so, but he went straight into that megalith and got Hari-san out. Yes, it was to save the world as well (save the chespin, save the world), but he made sure to deliver Hari-san back to Manon’s arms, because it was important to him that she got her happiness back. Because from the start, even though he didn’t want her following him around at first, he always had the kindness and compassion necessary to want to help and protect her. From his very first appearance, he had that. (And honestly, these are just a few examples. Alan’s acts of kindness go beyond this.)

As mentioned, with the exception of Sasuke’s later behaviors, these characters don’t do things that are inherently abusive or even close to evil. And while you could try to write them off as “assholes,” they don’t act that part, either. Keith growing agitated when one of the other Paladins rags on him is not being an asshole, it’s him defending himself (and while suggesting they leave Allura behind at the end of S1 does sound cold, not wanting to hand the universe’s ultimate weapon over to the enemy is the level of pragmatism that was no doubt instilled in him due to being raised at the Garrison, i.e., in the military). When Alan tries to enforce his boundaries and tells Manon to stop following him (either in TSME 1 or TSME 4), he’s not being an asshole, he’s justifiably trying to set boundaries for his own personal comfort, whatever his reasons are. Furthermore, even if you disagree with these decisions, that doesn’t negate their acts of kindness, either. You can’t simply write them off as “irredeemable assholes” or say that “their bad behavior is excused by their trauma” because that’s not the case. 

Although, that does bring me to the much more important second reason why writing characters like these off as “edgy emo edgelords” bothers me so very, very much.

I’ve noticed over the years that there is a (potentially subconscious) dichotomy in fandom between Good Victims™ and Bad Victims™. Characters that suffer abuse and trauma are everywhere in fiction, yet we see strong patterns between which characters are woobified and sympathized with versus which ones are mocked, derided, and scorned. Setting aside the tendency to leather pants certain villains in order to justify liking them (which is an entirely separate issue than what I’m discussing here), when it comes to characters that the audience is meant to sympathize with (i.e. not villains), there tends to be a pretty stark contrast between which characters are going to be nurtured, loved, and protected, versus which characters are going to be mocked at best and outright hated at worst.

I’m sure you can see where this is going, but I’m going to spell it out anyway.

Good Victims™ are those victims who, despite all they’ve gone through, are still friendly, upbeat, plucky, and pure. If they’re not upbeat and outgoing, then their reserved nature will be portrayed through being shy, vulnerable, and timid, so as to make the viewer want to protect them. Good Victims™ are never closed off or stand-offish; they’re never prickly or hostile in any circumstance. They’re all-loving, compassionate characters who are sweet and gentle and who might, at best, cry about their problems from time to time, but only in a way that makes you want to wrap them in a big, fluffy hug. They never have problems with emotional regulation, have no real problem in forming relationships with others, and otherwise exhibit all the behaviors of a model Good Victim™ that people want in real life (i.e. a person who has no struggles with mental health whatsoever).

Bad Victims™, meanwhile, are exactly like the characters described above. They’re withdrawn, they’re reserved, they’re stoic and stand-offish. Often times they have problems with emotional regulation. Like Good Victims™, they struggle with issues of self-worth, but unlike Good Victims™, this sometimes manifests in unhealthy behavior, such as pushing themselves to train, and train, and train, and train some more at the expense of their health, or else putting themselves in increasingly risky situations. (Good Victims™ would never do this; instead, they just put themselves down while at the same time complimenting a much beloved character / the player character, so as to make the viewer / player feel good while at the same time downplaying themselves in an acceptably modest way. They’re self-deprecating, but also building up another character the viewer likes / the player, so it’s acceptable.) Bad Victims™ are often blunt, sometimes to the point of being abrasive. They’re not friendly, bubbly, or outgoing, and have difficulty trusting others (as well as forming relationships with them). Bad Victims™ often try to enforce strict boundaries to compensate for their abusers never respecting any boundaries (or to go along with boundaries that their abuser wants them to set, et cetera), and when you combine this with the fact that they’re often stand-offish, blunt, and unable to easily trust others, the kindness that Bad Victims™ do exhibit toward others is often either completely overlooked, missed, or blatantly ignored in favor of calling them cold. Bad Victims™ have experienced severe traumas to their psyches, which shows in their behaviors. This in turn is what makes them Bad Victims™, because in the eyes of most, just because you suffer traumas doesn’t mean you should be allowed to react accordingly.

And yes, I have specific examples.

The easiest one to point to would be Gladion and his sister Lillie from Pokémon. Both Gladion and Lillie suffered abuse at the hands of Lusamine, their mother. Gladion’s behavior has been outlined above, and as should be obvious, he has been treated like a Bad Victim™ by the vast majority of fandom due to the fact that he’s closed-off, at times hostile, and has marked difficulty with emotional regulation, et cetera. Lillie, on the other hand, has been widely embraced as a Good Victim™. She goes out of her way to heap and lavish praise upon the player character. She’s reserved as well, but she’s reserved in a shy, timid way that is not at all threatening to the player. Rather, the player wants to protect her. She’s sweet and friendly and learns to open up over time. By the end of the game, although it’s clear that Gladion is still struggling, you’d almost think that Lillie was completely healed from the abuse she went through. Certainly, any after-effects of her trauma are not going to be a problem for the player, who really never had to shoulder any fallout whatsoever of Lillie being an abuse survivor, because Lillie never had even one instance of poor emotional regulation or unhealthy coping behaviors. Lillie was, in every way, a model Good Victim™. Her brother Gladion was a Bad Victim™. At least, that’s how fandom saw it, and considering how most everyone in fandom wanted to protect Lillie at all costs while at the same time mocking and deriding Gladion, I think we’re pretty safe in making that assumption.

We see this in Voltron as well. While Keith’s trauma has only been implied and danced around thus far, Shiro’s trauma (PTSD from being a prisoner of war) has been explicitly talked about and shown. Although Shiro has exhibited some realistic symptoms of a person with PTSD (trauma flashbacks, slight difficulties with emotional regulation at times), for the most part he has been a Good Victim™. He’s still very much a team player. He’s still willing to be there, emotionally, for the rest of the team. He has issues with self-worth, but only in a jokey sort of way that the audience can excuse, because these behaviors aren’t unhealthy to a degree that, while believable, crosses a line. Incidentally? The only time I’ve seen Shiro receive hate (and therefore be treated like a Bad Victim™ instead of a Good Victim™) is when he isn’t perceived to be open enough to members of the team that he doesn’t know as well. Shiro opens up to Keith because they knew each other beforehand. He doesn’t open up and bond with, say, Lance, however, despite Lance hero-worshiping him, and because Shiro cannot be a mentor or hero for Lance (in part due to his PTSD making that difficult for him, no doubt), he’s sometimes criticized as being cold, i.e., Bad Victim™. Nonetheless, by and large Shiro holds it together much, much better than Keith (no doubt because Shiro had a stable background before his year-long trauma, whereas Keith never had that in childhood), and therefore he’s largely treated as a Good Victim™ in contrast to Keith’s Bad Victim™. (Though again, the second he steps out of line, fandom turns. Gee, I wonder why.)

And note that characters can toe the line here. For instance, Raven in Teen Titans (the original, good cartoon, not the comics or new, bad cartoon) is a character who is mostly reserved and stoic due to her powers requiring great emotional regulation. However, she has episodes that show a more vulnerable side of her, and an entire character arc which calls on others (including the viewer) to want to protect her because she is, well, vulnerable and needs protecting until the last moment. Fandom by and large sees Raven as a Good Victim™ because of this. Aside from her snark being funny, Raven is seen as “non-threatening” and “acceptable” because she, at her core, is vulnerable and afraid, and has episodes and a seasonal arc devoted to showing this. That pushes her closer to “reserved because she’s shy / timid” than “reserved and stand-offish,” which in turn makes her a Good Victim™ versus the Bad Victim™ she very easily could have been (such as, from what I’ve read, Circe from Generator Rex, though I haven’t actually watched that cartoon and thus can’t dissect her character).

I’m a person who survived abuse for pretty much my entire life. Even after I left the worst situation, I’m slowly coming to realize (through therapy) that the situation I entered into was not as abuse-free as I told myself it was for so many years. I have diagnosed C-PTSD (complex post-traumatic stress disorder) as a result of this, on top of other mental illnesses. I, especially in my teenage years, exhibited so many of the Bad Victim™ traits, and still do to an extent, because I do still have C-PTSD and these are things I still struggle with. I relate to so many characters that fandom treats like Bad Victims™, intentionally or otherwise, and it drives me absolutely up the wall when I see them being labeled as “emo edgelords” because, aside from being an incorrect use of the word “emo,” it absolutely downplays and trivializes the very real traumas these characters have gone through, and disparages the way they cope and handle their trauma despite the fact that they’re doing the best they can. When I see this attitude in fandom, then regardless of whether or not I should, I still feel as if that’s the way people would see me. I still feel as if the way that I reacted to the trauma I went through (the way that my personality has been shaped by the trauma I survived) is bad. I’m a Bad Victim™, is the message I get. Even though I do my best, even though I still try to be Good™, I’m still Bad™. I’m an “emo edgelord” at best, and a heartless asshole at worst. I’m a Bad Victim™ either way. (And I do have specific examples that I know fandom would see as “emo edgelord” or otherwise, but I don’t feel comfortable writing them out right at this second.)

I know that making this post is not going to change anything on a fandom-wide scale, because honestly this has been going on for actual decades. And to tell the truth, I do NOT want this to turn into a Discourse™ post, so don’t reblog it just to say “well ACTUALLY . . .” and argue it, because I’m not interested in that. I just wanted---needed---to get this off my chest, because this has been bothering me for a long time, especially as I’ve been coming to terms with my own trauma and how that has honest-to-god shaped my personality over the years. I’ve realized how much I gravitate to characters who, like me, exhibit some form of C-PTSD; and I’ve realized just how disgusting fandom attitude is toward them, and what this says about people’s attitudes toward abuse survivors in general when they don’t fit in a socially acceptable model of behaviors. Because while you may say “oh, emo edgelord jokes are just jokes!” the fact remains that, subconsciously or otherwise, you feel it appropriate to make jokes out of the fact that people react to abuse and trauma by self-isolating and clumsily trying to set up some form of boundaries. You still feel it appropriate to “joke” about these characters being melodramatic because they’re clearly affected by very real abuse, trauma, and suffering. You still feel it appropriate to have the characters’ own family and friends mock and deride them in fanworks, thereby turning their own support system against them, because their behaviors don’t fit into the model of what you think is Good™. You still think it fine to disregard acts of kindness or compassion that they do show, because again, they aren’t acting like Good Victims™, therefore they’re just assholes. Yeah, you’re just “making jokes” . . . but think about what those jokes actually say about what you believe, at least to people like me who act so very much like the “emo edgelords” (most of whom tend to be adolescents) you like to deride.

Again, I don’t expect this to change anything and I do not want this to turn into a Discourse™ post, but I really just needed to get this off my chest.

[the-onyx-truth]

Pride of Daddy Onyx

I'm a father. It is THE most important mask I wear, and it is the one I try to keep on as often as I can. But more than a father, I try to be a DADDY. I'm a black man. Those four words IMMEDIATELY created some sort of foundation for you as you are reading this. However based in stereotypes it may be, we all have some sort of opinion when we hear "black father." It sucks sometimes, I will admit. Hell, in all honesty, it's pretty much a staple at this point. It is so potent of a social thought that often times, I can't even discern why I try so hard to be a wonderful daddy. Am I doing it because it's my natural desire? Am I doing it because I know what sort of fucked up, low life individual society expects me to be, so I fight against it? I'm a very arrogant person so that's entirely possible. I like to tell myself I am the way I am because it's how I was made. But, I do believe there were varying influences that helped me out. To be truthful, as much as I hate it, I am a statistic. I grew up without a father. I grew up very angry and I hated so much of life. Was that because I had no father? Partly, yea. But it wasn't simply because I had no father, it was mostly because I was confused. I was...drifting. Nothing I experienced made the least bit of sense to me. I was introduced to a man that was not my father at the age of 3 and I was told by my mom that he was now daddy so I went with it. I didn't know any better. As I got older, all I knew was that I couldn't stand the guy. I didn't give a flying fuck if he was my father or not, I hated him. Simple as that. I had good reason to, as far as I was concerned. Children are more sensitive than we give them credit for. They see things from a perspective that we as adults have long forgotten. As a kid, i had to experience and understand a very grim part of life WAY sooner than I should have. I'm not complaining, as I said I believe my experiences have prepped me to be a better father than the ersatz individuals I was forced to accept in that role. But the one thing that I feel parents don't understand is that your CHILD decides if you are/were a good parent. We don't decide that. Call it what you want, but in all honesty, they judge our performance. I can claim to be a good daddy til I die. Their mom can do the same. But if my children don't see it that way, if they are not proud of the life I created for them while they were under my care, then I failed. Now, I'm not talking material shit. "You were a bad parent cuz I didn't get a bike for my 5th birthday." My response: "LICK BUTTCHEEKS MY SON." I'm talking about the meat of being a parent, the things we can give our children that will last them a lifetime. If ya bike could do that, then best believe you little shit, I would have gotten you one. At the end of the day, I don't want to give a damn about society. FUCK SOCIETY. I will be judged by my children, and no one else. Fuck family, in this regard, fuck they momma(I already did that tho AMIRITE FELLAS) fuck ANYONE who I have not held since birth on opinions about me being daddy. Straight up. That is a realm all my own and NONE are welcome to visit it, save my babies. That is ironclad for me. Am I making this up as I go? Pretty much, yea. I can't google "good daddy practices" cuz people, there are no children like mine. So I can't be like someone else's daddy. Does shit get hard? Hell yes. Do I cry sometimes and hope that I'm doing this right? All the damn time. But I cry in the shower cuz not a single one of you will see how hard this can get, how many tears it takes for them to grow. I get scared and I worry and sometimes, yea, my kids look like strangers cuz I have NO IDEA what in the absolute fuck is going on or how I'm supposed to help this person and I don't know how to grab the horse that is the world and hold it still while my babies climb back on. But goddamn it I AM THEIR FATHER and if need be, it is on MY BACK that they will travel thru the muck and mud that is life. And if I drown keeping their heads above water then it's going to be the sexiest, most elegant goddamn watery grave the world has ever seen! I will gladly drown like a muthafuckin BOSS if that is what I deem necessary for my angels. So FUCK YOU DAD, wherever the hell ya bitchass might be. I am literally a FUCKTON times more of a man than you will ever be. At least I know the irreplaceable image it is to see my kids smile. PUSSY.