#my self-acceptance has gone through the wringer for the past year and a half. I think that's where all my problems are coming from

[clfixationstation]

unfortunately I now understand the sapphics who don't engage much with wlw content because it makes them jealous :(

[lolas-writings]

Ahh I’m so sorry that happened! But here’s me, asking for your project details again lol

(Man I hate Tumblr a lot these days... Copy and paste here we go) 

Oh buddy, you’re getting a real treat today. I’m putting this under a cut because it’ll be quite long. Enjoy!! All songs have a link included so you can listen to them. (Here’s a preview)

Ships Included:

DabiHawks

TodoDeku

ShinDeku

(Very possible TodoShinDeku)

Single Character Studies Included:

Dabi/Touya

Shouto

(Villain) Izuku

Ship Based Fics:

What A Time (Trilogy):

For this one, I won’t give too much detail because it’s already being written but I will give the general overview

A Hawks Betrayal and Dabi/Touya Rehabilitation concept. Also a mix between a ship based fic and a character study of Dabi

Part 1: [Already posted!! Read here if you’d like] Deals with the immediate aftermath of Hawks betraying the league and getting them all arrested. From Dabi’s POV (the entire trilogy is in Dabi’s POV) he begins to question his and Hawks’ relationship while Hawks is a mere ten feet away acting like they don’t even acknowledge each other’s existence. Maybe 65% angst due to present times and 35% fluff due to flashbacks

Part 2: A few months after Dabi began his rehabilitation. Discusses his therapy, goes into more detail about what exactly the rehabilitation program entails, and Dabi has a major breakdown due to an unexpected visit from Hawks. 100% angst, there is no happiness in this installment.

Part 3: About a year and a half after the league was arrested and Dabi Touya began his rehabilitation. He’s doing a lot better, both mentally and physically, and is slowly accepting his new life. Hawks in under major fire in the news, and Touya decides maybe it’s finally time to talk things out. I’m estimating about 25% angst and 75% fluff for this installment because I’m putting these boys through the wringer, they deserve to be soft. (Also, happy ending guaranteed)

Before You Go:

A childhood friends AU where Keigo and Touya are part of the same hero program. They become good friends and are practically inseparable until Touya has a training accident and is presumed dead (by accidental suicide).

I’ve actually already talked about this in much more detail in this post here so you can just read that. That post is also quite long

Rewrite the Stars:

I’m gonna call out @call1998​ because I just woke up one day, sent her this song, and said that it’s such a DabiHawks song. And then we created a fantastic soulmate AU together so she helped co-create this idea <3

So, as I said, this is a soulmate AU, but DabiHawks are not each other’s soulmate.

Hawks met his soulmate back when they were kids. Merely 12 years old and under the commission’s care because they were both part of their hero program. Hawks was the one to notice first, getting excited when he met his soulmate and wanting to get to know him. But they only got that one day together, because the next day his soulmate was gone and never to be heard from again. The commission had him believe that his soulmate moved to America and entered a different specialized program, but Hawks finds out the truth when he’s around 20 years old and snooping around the commission. He finds old files that they wanted buried, and he learns the commission actually killed his soulmate because they saw them as weaknesses, and since Hawks was the “better specimen” he was allowed to live.

Dabi’s soulmate is an abuser who works for the commission. And since Dabi is Touya, of course, he grew up watching his mother be abused by her own soulmate and thought “oh hell no.” After Dabi meets his soulmate and realizes how abusive he is (not only to him but also the wife and kids his soulmate already has) Dabi tricks him into believing Dabi actually likes him. When he’s able to, he brings his soulmate back to the league and has him turned into a Nomu, because while he’s an abusive piece of shit, his quirk is really powerful and could be of use to the league.

Now, for the DabiHawks part. Their relationship is more of a friends with benefits ordeal, but of course they wind up falling in love eventually. They never mention their soulmates until one day, after a mission left them both tired, Hawks decides to confess. He’s sitting behind Dabi, applying a special salve to the fresh burns that Dabi can’t reach himself because he can’t bring himself to confess if he’s able to be seen. When his feelings are finally out in the open, the only thing Dabi asks is “What about your soulmate?” Hawks recognizes it’s not a flat out rejection so some of the tension in his shoulders dissipates, and he tells Dabi how they met when they were just kids and how cruel the commission is for killing him off, solely to groom the perfect hero.

And Dabi? He’s vulnerable and hesitant, because the man he was supposed to “end up with” was a garbage piece of human trash, so he’s reluctant. And self deprecating, because he doesn’t believe he deserves to be loved. So he tells Hawks about how he killed his soulmate, omitting the very important fact that his soulmate was abusive just like his father was to his mother. And he uses it to try and drive Hawks away. But the thing is, Hawks knows that Dabi is a critical thinker and wouldn’t act without reason, that all of his actions have a purpose. So after that night, he searches. They don’t touch again, either, their meetings reverting back to being strict information swaps, but it only drives Hawks to uncover the truth. And he finds it, and he even remembers who Dabi’s soulmate was because he was one of the people in charge of the program that Hawks grew up in. But he keeps it to himself, he has to make sense of things first.

Then one night comes, where Hawks just has to let Dabi know, let him know that he’s not the bad guy he’s trying to paint himself to be. But when Hawks reveals what he knows, Dabi just tries to deny everything, because he truly doesn’t want to talk about this. And then he snaps, yells at Hawks about how he witnessed the abuse his mother went through, how his father broke her in more ways than one, how he vowed to never allow someone to do the same to him. That he accepted the fact that he was meant to wind up alone after he killed his soulmate because the universe is a cruel place to once kind people.

Hawks is having none of that, though. He stops Dabi, tells him he doesn’t have to be alone anymore, that they’re not explicitly tied to “fate” anymore and can in fact rewrite their own story. It takes a lot of back and forth between them, but ultimately Hawks’ end goal is convincing Dabi that they, the two of them who no longer have a soulmate, are no longer tied to whatever fate was “chosen” for them. That they’re free to go their own route, carve out their own lives how they see fit. And eventually, Dabi gives in, because in truth they both know that they love each other, so why not give it a go?

More Hearts Than Mine/Like We Used To (duology):

Okay, this duology is centered around both Shindeku and Tododeku and in the end one of y’all is gonna hate me and I’m okay with that. As a multishipper, it is so hard for me to chose which ship gets tanked in the end I’m so sorry. ((But honestly, I high key have thought about ending it with all three of them being in a poly relationship and like, ya girl likes poly. It’ll most likely happen to be completely honest))

Also, quirkless AU!!

MHTM: This is the first half of the duology. In this half, it depicts the rise and eventual fall of Izuku’s initial relationship (either with Hitoshi or Shouto, it’s so far undecided). They get together, fall in love, and genuinely have a good relationship, but it all goes downhill when they eventually have to break up due to different life interests and Izuku’s boyfriend having to move away for a few years. They knew long distance wouldn’t work, so they decided to end the relationship, and this fic ends with the aftermath of their breakup and how not only Izuku, but also his mother and step father are hurt by the breakup.

LWUT: In the second half of this duology, this fic will be from the perspective of whichever boyfriend had to end things with Izuku. He returns from his travels a few years later, but he doesn’t tell Izuku just yet. Instead, he’s trying to deal with being back and constantly reminiscing what once was. One day, while getting coffee, he sees Izuku and his new boyfriend sitting at a corner booth and overall acting very in love. And it hurts, seeing Izuku with someone else, and he gets jealous. But as the fic continues, he eventually comes to terms with the fact that him and Izuku did fall in love, but at the wrong time and while they may not ever get a chance again, he just hopes Izuku is happy with his new boyfriend. (And then they meet again at that same coffee shop, and Izuku realizes his first love is back in town and invites him to sit with them. And he does, and it’s awkward, but when Izuku’s current boyfriend leaves to use the restroom, he tells Izuku that he’s glad he found someone. And this is only the beginning of the start of all three dating because while writing this out I’ve decided, yea, I like happy endings too much so they all three fall in love.)

Single Character Study Fics:

King for a Day (warning, kind of screamo):

Dabi/Touya character study.

He’s already a villain at this point, and this fic would be a character study of his feelings throughout his mental collapse, his rise as Dabi, and his thirst for revenge.

I actually don’t have as much for this idea compared to some of the other songs on here, but the basic outline is almost your standard “Touya died then became Dabi, his mental stability is compromised, and his primary goal is bringing down Endeavor”. This song is actually more of a “hey this fits a story that already exists” than using it to create one, that’s why I don’t have much on it.

I do, however, want to share my favorite line that I’ve matched with a scene. “Dying is a gift so close your eyes and rest in piece.” Dabi says this to Endeavor because he believes he deserves to live the rest of his life rotting away in prison, but he has to kill Endeavor to make sure he gets punished. Since Endeavor is rich and famous, he could probably get out of prison with minimal damage to his reputation and life, and what would be the point then? So Dabi believes he has to die.

Modern Loneliness:

Shouto character study.

The title alone I think suits Shouto fairly well, but if you listen to the song it’s about felling alone in a room full of people. About not knowing how to connect to others. The first line alone is very much in line with Shouto. “I’ve been thinking ‘bout my father lately, the person that he made me, the person I’ve become.” I don’t even need to tell you why that line fits so well.

So this fic would be centered around the time the UA students move into the dorms, because I feel that Shouto would still be wary and not understand how to truly connect with his classmates. In the end, eventually he’d come to find that it takes two to put in the effort a relationship requires, and though it’s new and scary, he’s willing to do it.

Let Me Be Myself:

Another Shouto character study.

Again, the title alone already very heavily aligns with Shouto’s character. And, as we all already know, Shouto hates when people compare him to his father or only acknowledge him as his father’s son, and this song is about being allowed to break free from past restraints in order to live your life how you see fit.

With Izuku’s help, Shouto is able to come to this realization sooner and grow the confidence needed to finally fight back and regain control of his own life.

Lovely:

Villain!Deku character study.

I’m not even gonna lie, I saw that multiple people have done animatics of this exact concept and it’s very intriguing to me. I’ve never written villain Izuku so I think it’d be interesting to explore that kind of mindset.

That being said, I just wrote down “villain Deku = lovely” in my phone’s notes and never actually plotted anything so I have nothing more to share on this

And that’s it so far!! Realistically, I probably won’t get around to all of these, and it would take me forever to actually make a dent in this, but I’m having a lot of fun with this project. Also, these don’t go into nearly as much depth as my notes, because I basically annotate these songs in order to create an outline so, this is like the lite version.

[corvid-knight]

Demon Eyes - chapter 8

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/31885545

The "something" that Jake was working on turns out to be a full-out tarot spread, you find as you follow Dirk into the kitchen, Karkat and John a few steps behind. Most of the kitchen table is covered in carefully-laid-out cards, an arrangement that's more complicated than any of the ones you know. Then again, the subset of tarot spreads that you know only includes one or two; Bro stopped trying to get you to learn when he figured out that your predictions lacked the weird clarity that Jake's have always had.

When you come in, Jake's perched on a stool that's too high for the table, a thoughtful look on his face as he examines the complicated patterns he's created. He only looks up when Dirk puts a hand on his shoulder, glancing between Karkat and you for a second before a grin spreads across his face.

"There we are." He slides off the stool, tapping the card at the center before stepping over to give you a quick, much-less-stressful half-hug. "You've certainly gone through the wringer, haven't you Davey? You and your demon both."

"He's not exactly my demon." Jake's still half a head shorter than you, you realize as he steps away to take one more look at his tarot spread. Nice—you're not totally surrounded by guys who're taller than you. "His name's Karkat, by the way. I'm shit at intros, sorry."

"You're absolutely fine, don't worry!" He aims that bright smile at Karkat, who looks completely disconcerted at the hand that Jake holds out. "Jake English, at your service."

You seriously wonder if Karkat's going to accept the handshake or if you're going to end up privately prompting him. After a second, though, the demon grins (no sharp teeth, thankfully) and shakes Jake's hand, letting go as quickly as he can while still being polite. "I really fucking hope you don't say that to just any demon you work with."

"Oh gods no, I'm not as much of an idiot as this one—" a shove at Dirk's shoulder than pushes him a step closer to John and makes you want to tense up at the prospect of upcoming violence— "would have you believe. That'd be John."

"I'll kick your ass, English," John immediately offers. He slips behind Dirk as he says it, but the grin on his face reminds you that the probability of actual fighting here and now is really fucking low. "C'mon, come and get me—"

"Don't you dare start a fight in the kitchen." Okay, that voice is new. It's a lot like Dirk's (and a little like Bro's) but it's from behind you, where there shouldn't fucking be anyone—

You don't register your own movements until Karkat steps up next to you and slides a hand under your arm, pulling you out of the defensive crouch you've already fallen into. Shit, you're running your hands across your waistband, too, looking for a fucking weapon. One that's not there, thank god.

You're okay, Dave. Anyone who'd hurt you goes through me, and that's a lot fucking harder than it looks.

Without his steady voice in your mind, you probably wouldn't be able to just straighten up again, take a deep breath, and glance over at Dirk like you do.

Dirk just looks irritated and resigned. "Hal," he says with a calm that's probably deceptive, "get off the fucking fridge."

"Hmm...no."

You look up.

The guy perched on top of the refrigerator looks kind of like Dirk. The facial structure is the same, but this guy's as pale as you are, other than red tracery that looks like tattooed circuit lines running from his temples down the sides of his face. His hair's white instead of warm gold, shorter and spiky, exactly how Dirk wore his a couple years ago, and his eyes are the same red you're used to seeing in the mirror.

Karkat tilts his head to one side, considering the guy on the fridge. "Okay, I'll bite. What the fuck are you?"

"Hal Strider." He shifts slightly, still grinning down at you. You don't think you've ever seen someone look so pleased with themself in your life. "I'd offer to trade information, but I already know that you're Karkat and you're a demon, and the one that has a certain family resemblance to Dirk and I would be Dave, right?"

You realize that that was kind of directed at you, and nod. "Uh...dude, I have no fucking clue who you are, okay?"

"It'd be amazing if you did." Hal shrugs and shifts his weight, just jumping off the top of the fridge and landing on his feet with all the weightless grace of a cat. Standing, he somehow manages to look more and less like Dirk at the same time. "I didn't exist last time you were around."

"Still don't really understand here." You have to look over at Dirk for help. Before he can do more than open his mouth, Karkat reaches out to poke Hal's shoulder experimentally, which Hal allows with the same faint smile that seems to be his resting expression.

"It's a golem," he announces.

"He's a shikigami," Dirk corrects with a sigh, rubbing at his forehead. "Sort of."

You have no fucking clue what a shiki-whatever is. Karkat, however, evidently does, because he immediately points out, "Shikigami don't have self-awareness or willpower, and this thing obviously does, so..."

"Pronouns would be nice instead of just 'this thing.' I'll answer to any of them, although I rather like the sound of 'he' and 'they.'" Hal smiles sweetly at Karkat, tapping one finger against the circuit-marks along the sides of his face. "Also, you're absolutely right; shikigami don't have free will. Not when they're created from inert material and a driving force, anyway. However. If you add a harddrive containing a sentient AI—that would be me—"

The look of confused horror spreading across Karkat's face is actually a little comical. "You can't fucking do that."

Dirk groans and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Dude, you have no idea how much I wish that was an accurate statement sometimes."

"Anyway," Hal continues, just slightly louder, "if you add a sentient AI to the mix, as per said AI's instructions—"

"We all know you came up with forty percent of the plan, give it a rest already." Dirk's grumble and eye-roll suggest that they've been over this territory already.

"Dave doesn't know, so shut the hell up. You add the AI, as per said AI's instructions so you don't fuck it up like the incompetent meatbag you are, and a few steps later you have me." Hal spreads his hands in a gesture you recognize as an echo of one of Dirk's, smiling wider. "One superbeing."

"One freak of nature," Dirk corrects.

Jake laughs and shoves very gently at your cousin, wrapping an arm around him. "You love him."

"You might love him. I certainly don't."

"He doesn't exactly have to love me if he doesn't want to." Hal shrugs, eyes fixed on you with an unblinking intensity that's more than a little disconcerting. "Brothers fight, don't they? Unless it gets to be a little more than scuffling, you don't need to worry about us, English. And it won't get that far, now will it?"

"Not unless you do something especially asinine."

"Oh, I don't intend to." He's speaking to Dirk, isn't he? So why the fuck does he have to look at you like that?

Stop. I'm being fucking paranoid.

Except you look away from Hal and Dirk's watching you too. Jake's more focused on Dirk, but his eyes slide towards you when you glance at him, and away again as soon as he meets your eyes. Doesn't want to stare at me. Fuck. John's talking to Karkat, but there's a pair of excited blue eyes fixed on you too, flicking back to the demon every few seconds—of course John wouldn't care about staring, he was always honest about shit even when we were kids—so upon that further examination, everyone's looking at you, and that's...

That's not how shit's supposed to be. This isn't supposed to happen to me, you think, and hate the panicked edge the thought has.

Dirk's saying something and you have zero ability to focus enough to listen to it. Which is just as fucking wrong as you being the center of attention, you're supposed to fucking listen to him, fucking listen to Bro—

"Dave." And, maybe because he can tell you're a little past verbal responses, Karkat switches to words that go straight into your head, private and silent and weirdly safe. Dave, you know you're safe right now, right? That fucker's not here. It's Dirk, not your Bro.

Fuck. Yeah. You know that. Can't fucking think, man. And you make a deliberate effort to let him feel what you're overwhelmed by—like you're the only one worth looking at in a crowd, because you fucked up—

Karkat growls, loud and startled and deep, and Jake lets go of Dirk, and now everybody—other than Hal, who's still watching you thoughtfully—is staring at the demon. Which is just as fucking bad because they're hunters and you know what hunters do—

"Jesus fuck," Karkat growls, shaking his head. "John, right? And Jake? You both want to ask me shit, right?" When he gets a definite nod from the former and a slightly less emphatic one from the latter, he continues, "Open season on questions, as in I'll answer anything you come up with for the next—" Dave, how long?

Fifteen minutes. It's a number you pull out of nowhere, but it feels right, and Karkat slots it into his sentence without any discernable pause.

"—fifteen minutes, so long as you ask it in a different fucking room." He crosses his arms and scowls at John. "Fair enough?"

John's expression suggests that the deal is more than fair, but he just nods, grabbing Jake's wrist and all but dragging him into the other room after Karkat. The door shuts, and you're left with just Dirk and Hal.

Where the fuck is Hal?

"Calm down." Dirk sighs when he sees you glancing around, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs and sitting down. "He's on the fucking fridge again."

"Oh." The shikigami grins at you when you look up at him. When did he even get back up there? "Is it even worth it to ask you why?"

"It's an excellent vantage point." Hal shrugs.

"Try, 'I'm an asshole,'" Dirk suggests.

"Well, I can't argue with that, but we all know who I'm modeled on, don't we?"

"You guys are always like this, aren't you." You don't make it a question, and you don't look at either of them to see if they nod. If they're still staring at you, you don't fucking want to know. Instead, you sit on Jake's stool—which feels wrong; it's too tall and too isolated, too obvious—but you made the choice to sit on it and now you're stuck with that choice—and look over his tarot spread, mentally naming the cards you recognize as a way of calming down a little.

This spread is a mess, really. He's using the major arcana and (you think) the four royalty cards from each suit, but you don't see numbered cards from anysuit. Despite that, you're pretty sure there's more than thirty cards on the table, and you see the Tower at least twice. Which means more than one deck.

What the hell.

Of the layout itself, you can tell that it's centered on three cards: Knight of Swords and Knight of Cups side by side, with the Lovers card laid over and half-obscuring both of them. Beyond that, you don't know enough about the order or layout to read, but those three cards make a hell of a lot of sense to you.

"Jake's been drawing those two when he tries to read for you, the past few days." Dirk leans over to tap first Cups, then Swords. "You, and Karkat."

That feels backwards, but going by the meanings of the cards it really isn't. "So he's been reading for me."

"I asked him to, yes." When you glance up at him you meet honey-orange eyes that're too fucking familiar for you to not wince. "Why, do you count that as spying?"

"Depends on what you learned from it." You don't count it as spying, not really, but you need to know what Dirk already knows so you don't reveal more than you have to.

What the hell am I even thinking? I don't have to hide shit, there's no consequences if he finds out things Bro didn't want known... Well, other than your discomfort, maybe. Not that that matters.

Dirk sits back, watching you. "Jake didn't finish telling me about this one, obviously. But when he went over your past he got abuse, willpower put to bad use, increasing domination—"

You know which cards he's talking about. Out of the corner of your eye, you can almost see them light up out of the spread on the table. "Strength and the Magician, both reversed. The Emperor." It makes you shiver. You know exactly what Jake read as the sum your past—or, more accurately, who. "Bro."

"I didn't know you knew the meanings so well."

"Yeah. Can't get an accurate read on anything, but I know the cards."

"Ah. The Moon came up in most of the spreads—"

"Deception." There's other meanings, but that's the one you fix on. It's hard to keep your hands from folding into fists again. "He was a fucking liar, so that's accurate."

Dirk tilts his head and you think of Karkat. Stupid. "You're angry at him."

More than you're ever going to know. "He's dead. So no, I'm not."

"...fair enough, I guess. I might be pissed enough for both of us."

He keeps his tone calm, and you still want to flinch at the words. You don't do that, but you do look down at the cards instead of at Dirk. "Not really a reason for that."

"Bullshit there isn't." The twist of emphasis he puts in that is savage enough that you look up at him, hoping he doesn't see the unpleasant jolt of fear he just sent through you. There's no anger on his face, at least. "I knew him. I hunted with him—not alone, D never let Bro take me out unless he was coming along, thank god—but I knew how he was, we all did."

"Yeah, no. You didn't." He was worse, trust me. The cards are interesting, maybe if you look at the layout just a little longer you can figure out how it works, and if you look at it you don't have to look at Dirk...

"Dave," he says quietly, and when you still don't look up at him he keeps talking. "You know why we didn't cut him off after he killed that girl?"

"She was a fucking were. She killed—"

"It wasn't about her. Him killing her was fucked up, both how he did it and that he did it at all—she was a kid, she killed a couple fucking horses in her first change and we should've paid for the damages and gotten her settled with a pack, not let him get his hands on her and torture her to death."

Shit. "He told me she killed someone. Not some fucking horses..."

"Lying bastard."

"Yeah." The fact that you just believed him is worse.

"You know why we didn't cut him off?"

"No."

"D wanted you back." When you look up in surprise, Dirk nods. "Yeah. The whole reason he never ran Bro down and made him answer for that shit was because they made a deal—that bastard got to leave, go wherever the fuck he wanted, so long as he left you with us. Except when I finally got ahold of him after that last fight, he said you took the money he'd had on hand and took off. He said he didn't know where you went."

"I—" You almost did that, but not until a full year after when Dirk's talking about. The first time you woke up with Bro in bed with you, with your head fuzzy from the alcohol he'd bullied you into drinking the night before and your shoulder aching where his teeth had drawn blood, feeling more disgusting than you ever had in your life, you almost left him. Almost. But in the end? "I'd never. I couldn't."

"Yeah. I was an idiot to believe him, I know. I'm sorry, Dave—"

"Don't!" Fuck. That was louder than you should've let it be, and you can sense rather than see Hal shift slightly on top of the fridge—getting ready to attack you if he has to, to protect Dirk? You don't know. "Don't apologize for that shit, don't fucking do it, it doesn't help, it makes things worse—"

You look at him again and you can't fucking see him clearly—no, tears, not that, I can't fucking cry, I can't, I—

Karkat, please—

Something shifts. Something twists. Something in the center of your mind changes, and it's been changing for a while, hasn't it? Since the first time you felt the tingle of wards as you passed through them, before everything started. But this time you feel it adjust itself to what you need, just a little more, and it's terrifying to feel that but it's so, so relieving, because you feel him. You feel Karkat, and when you blink your eyes are clear again.

Unfortunately, it's John that you're looking at. Not Dirk. Holy shit, you try to say, but instead of that you feel your mouth shape the words, "Dave, what—" and it's his deeper voice that you feel in your throat.

No. His throat.

Too much, you think, or maybe he thinks it, but it's true either way. Too fucking much, go back, make it stop—

You're not sure whether it's you or Karkat who triggers the flip back. It doesn't really matter. You blink again and you're staring at the kitchen tile, which is a hell of a lot closer than before because you're on your hands and knees on the floor. The stool's overturned, knocked halfway across the room, and Dirk's kneeling next to you with one hand on your shoulder.

"Dave?" he asks, then, more hesitantly, "...Karkat?"

"Right the first time." Sitting up is hard, but you instinctively push Dirk away when he tries to support you. "Don't—don't touch me. For a sec. I need—" Karkat.

"Your eyes—"

"What?" Because you need Dirk to see that you're you, your eyes aren't the changing red of the demon's, you force yourself to look at him. Just for a second. Long enough to catalogue the confused concern on his face. Then you just close your eyes, cut off sensory input from that quarter.

"Did he possess you?"

"No! I—" I'm so fucked. Hunters don't do this shit. I'm a hunter, I can't do—whatever that was. "I. I possessed him? Dirk, I don't know—"

You bite down on your lip, hard enough to taste blood, before that last word can turn into the panicked wail it really wants to be.

"Dave, it's okay—" Dirk begins, and abruptly stops as the door slams open again. "Karkat, what the hell—"

"Don't you fucking block me from him," Karkat snarls, and you think you cringe.

Please don't hurt him, don't fucking hurt him, please—

"No one's getting hurt, Dave. I swear to you." Dirk's hand leaves your shoulder, and Karkat's replace it, one resting on each shoulder and giving you a comforting sensation of presence, for a moment, before he moves them up to press against your temples. "Open your eyes."

"No—"

"Just for a second, okay? You just did something that should be really fucking difficult for a human, I need to make sure you're okay. Just a second and then you can do whatever you want." Karkat's voice is gentle and coaxing again, nothing like how he snarled at Dirk a moment ago. It's all right, Dave, I swear. Just look at me.

I'll cry, you warn him.

"Yeah. I know. That's okay."

You open your eyes. Thankfully—and somewhat surprisingly—your vision's only a little blurry; you can see Karkat's face fine. Dirk's sitting just being him, arms crossed and expression purposefully blank and unreadable.

"I'm okay," you say to both of them. That's not even kind of true.

"Shush." Karkat's thumb strokes across your cheek. It's a stupidly reassuring sensation. "You can close your eyes if you need to now. Nothing's fucked up structurally..."

You shut your eyes immediately when he says that, trying not to shake as you start thinking about how this looks. I did something. Something magic, the kind hunters don't use. With a demon. I'm so fucking screwed, this isn't—

"Dave. Dave, shush. Come here." His hands leave your face and you nearly panic enough to open your eyes. Then he slips an arm around your shoulders, pulls gently enough that you could definitely get away if you wanted.

Instead, you lean into him. We're fucked.

"We're not fucked. Dirk, tell him."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be telling him," Dirk protests.

There's a very soft noise that you can't quite identity from behind you, and someone else's hand brushes against your hair. "Want me to do the talking, brother dearest?" Hal asks calmly. "I actually have some kind of handle on the situation here, which you don't."

"If you upset him more I'm kicking your ass."

"Fair enough. Dave?"

Words. Gotta have words. "Yeah."

"The talented are welcome here. Do you understand that? I can't tell what sort you are, but I can see the empath link between you and Karkat, and I'm assuming there's more—"

"No."

"Ah. There might be later, or maybe not. But that's an asset, do you understand?"

"It's not a fucking hunter thing—"

"Dirk's something between an artificer and a technomancer. Jake's a diviner, possibly one of the best alive. Rose—you remember Rose, don't you?—she's a witch, engaged to a vampire." Hal's hand rests against your shoulder again and just as quickly withdraws. "And you already heard what I am."

"We're not like him." This from Dirk again; when you cautiously open your eyes, he's sitting back on his heels in front of you. "Maybe he told you hunters were fucking bigots, but that's not fucking true."

"...yeah." Karkat?

"Yes?"

Tell 'em I believe them. Can't talk. Mostly because you really are crying now.

"You don't have to, don't worry."

He starts relaying not what you thought at him, but what you mean, and you relax against him, close your eyes again, and really start to calm down.

[qorillas]

happy d-day it’s a national holiday so i stayed up all night to write y’all a fic and had to go to a 12.5 hour work shift on no sleep so fucking. appreciate this

2000+ words, studoc because this is my house. d-day gives me lots of emotions

When Stuart walks into the living room at 4am for a glass of water, the last thing he is expecting to see is Murdoc digging through a chewed-up cardboard box of old cassettes as if his life depends on it.

“What’re you doing,” he asks bluntly, and it’s a testament to how many things he’s had to put up with over the years that this is phrased like a statement rather than an actual question, and that there’s no real surprise behind his words anymore. Stu’s been through the wringer, okay. You don’t get spirited off to a parallel space dimension and force-fed an entire fridge by an anthropomorphic slice of pizza without losing a bit of astonishment for everyday things like this.

Murdoc looks up, startled, for a second, then plunges his arms back into the box and starts rummaging around loudly again. “Found some old VHS tapes in the back of the garage,” he says, then stops for a second and yanks one out with much more vigor than is strictly needed and a loud clatter. He barks out a victorious laugh and shoves the box off to the side, kicking the tapes he’s already scattered across the floor out of his way and kneeling down in front of the television set. “C’mere, come look at this.”

“‘S 4am, Muds,” Stuart protests, but he shuffles over and plops himself down on the battered couch anyway. “What is it?”

Murdoc has somehow managed to coax the TV set into accepting the VHS tape and is fiddling with the knobs at the bottom of the screen. “Y’know how we got Noodle that video recorder that first Christmas we had her?”

Stu hums in agreement and wraps a throw blanket around himself. He can’t remember much about something back that far, but there’s a faint memory of Noodle tearing open a box and shrieking with delight as she ran around shoving a chunky, early-2000s camcorder in everyone’s faces. “Those her tapes?”

“No, they’re my amateur pornos.” The screen flickers to life and Murdoc settles back on his haunches before looking at him and grinning, illuminated by weak blue light. “Only joshing, I keep those on DVD.”

“Y’know, it says a lot about you that I can’t tell if you’re really joking or not about that.”

“Fuck off, not like I’d let you see ‘em anyway,” Murdoc says, then adds with a leer, “Least, not when you’ve got the real thing right here.” He makes his way back to the couch and settles into the other side, shoving his cold feet under Stuart’s legs and dragging more than half of the blanket over himself.

Stu makes a noise of protest. “Oi, that’s my blanket, get your own.”

“What’s yours is mine, love,” Murdoc says, and Stuart promptly shoves his heel into his crotch. “Argh, for the love of—”

They kick each other for a few seconds before Murdoc relinquishes part of the blanket back, pressing himself closer to Stu so that they can both fit underneath. “Look, you’re missing the whole fucking thing, pay attention.”

“You started it,” Stu mumbles, but leans back, satisfied. On screen, a practice session, probably from the band’s first few months, has already started. The scene isn’t centered in the slightest; half of it is obscured by an amplifier sitting in the way, and every few seconds the camera jolts as a tiny Noodle picks it up and moves it to a new position. She’s obviously sitting on the floor, trying to set it up so that the camera records them as they practice. Finally she manages to set it at an angle where it’s tilted up at the band, and runs out from behind to take her place next to a much younger Stuart, who has his hand down his trousers and is scratching himself, oblivious to the presence of the camera right at his feet.

“Nice,” Murdoc cackles from beside him, and scoots away as Stu aims another kick at him under the blanket. “Absolutely lovely. No, really, look at you, Dents. Satan, what a catch. Twenty years later, and nothing much has changed, eh?”

On the television, Murdoc steps forward into the shot, shoots a furtive glance at Noodle and Stuart, faced away from him, and sticks his hand down his jeans to scratch himself as well.

“Oh, nice,” Stuart parrots back at his own Murdoc, who is looking much more sour now. “Twenty years later and not much has changed, ‘s that what you said, yeah?”

“Will you just — shut up. Not like anybody noticed.”

“Muds, get your hands out your damn pants,” Russel says from somewhere off to the side of the camera. “You touch our instruments with those, nasty-ass—”

Stuart’s snickering and Murdoc’s groan almost drowns out the faltering voice of the Stuart onscreen. The sound is a little bit tinny, but pretty decent for a tape that’s just spent two decades in a moldering cardboard box. “Hey, uh, what song’re we doin’ again, because, uh, I know we just said, but I wanna make sure I’m singing the right one—”

“It’s Re-Hash, idiot, just like it’s been for the past four times.” Although Murdoc’s voice is the same as ever, Stuart notes, the years have had an unmistakable effect on his looks. The bassist plucking at his strings on the television has a much rounder face and tanner skin than the one sitting next to him now, and the red contact that used to be omnipresent in his left eye has long since been discarded. The bags under his eyes are much less pronounced, as well, making him look soft, round and baby-faced in comparison to his current, more angular appearance, although Stuart doesn’t think he’s any less handsome.

Murdoc notices him sizing him up out of the corner of his eye (how he does it, Stuart doesn’t know, since he has no pupils to show where his gaze is lying.) “What?”

“Nothing. Y’look different, that’s all.”

“Twenty years can do that to a person. You’re no spring chicken yourself, mate.”

“No, I know, but I didn’t mean it like bad-different. Just, different-different. You look less like a baby, ‘s what I’m saying. More like a — a velociraptor, or somethin’."

“A velociraptor.”

“Pointy, y’know.” Stuart motions helplessly. “And green.”

Murdoc’s voice is dry. “Pointy and green. What a compliment, 2D, thank you. Really, I appreciate it.”

“Look, I dunno, it’s 4am, Muds, ‘m tired.” Stuart sighs and wraps himself tighter, leaning his head against Murdoc’s shoulder. “Can’t we watch this tomorrow?”

“Hush up,” he says with no real vitriol, and threads his fingers through Stuart’s hair. “I just wanna see this part.”

The light pours off the screen in shades of cyan, casting long shadows across the living room that jump erratically with the occasional roll of static. Stuart likes to watch it, likes the blue darkness that pools in the corners of the room, settles in the folds of his blanket, collects under the fringe near Murdoc’s eyes. He thinks it’s like being swept under a wing, or sleeping in a blanket fort right up against a window, cool and safe, free but protected. Maybe it’s a little bit like what moonlight must feel like, or maybe moonshadows. Something intangible. Something that blankets your heart.

“D’you ever think about what it would have been like if it didn’t happen?”

Murdoc’s voice is low and musing, less of a question than a thought opened to the air. He’s still looking at the screen, and if Stuart hadn’t been paying attention, he might have thought he didn’t say anything at all.

“If I didn’t happen, I mean. To you.”

It’s a question that Stuart’s asked himself periodically over the past twenty years. Sometimes more often, sometimes few and far between. There have been many times that he has looked in the mirror and not recognized himself — he remembers that sometimes, when they were recording the self-titled, or even Demon Days, he would wake up and stumble into the bathroom and start screaming because he had forgotten what had happened to him and he didn’t recognize the black eyed, toothless face that stared back. There have been many times that he has looked at pictures of himself from the past and not recognized himself either — they had all gone to Crawley to visit his mother and the headless Cyborg for his last birthday, and when his mother had brought out the old photo albums Stuart had not for the life of him been able to pick himself out of a group of his school friends. At times he has thought about this question and squashed down the thoughts that roiled up deep inside of him because all the what-ifs and could-haves made him want to vomit. At times he has looked around him, looked at Murdoc, and thought that he would not have wanted it any way else.

Of course he thinks about what it would have been like. Of course. He’s only human, after all.

Onscreen, Noodle interrupts a muffled argument that had broken out between them all with rapid Japanese and launches into the beginning, jangling riffs of Re-Hash. Murdoc’s eyes have still not left the screen, but the question still drifts in the air.

“I think,” says Stuart, “that if you hadn’t happened to me, then everything would be different. But not bad-different. Just. Different-different, right? And maybe — maybe there’s other worlds out there where you didn’t happen t’me, and maybe there’s some where you happened too much. Maybe there’s infinite worlds out there, and everything and everyone that’s happened to me, or you, or anyone, did or didn’t happen, in all the different combinations possible.”

He’s singing now, on the television, and it’s strange to hear his voice coming from the Stuart that he is and the Stuart that he was simultaneously. Re-Hash rolls over them, humming in the background like static:

It’s a sweet sensation over the dub

Oh, what a situation that don’t wanna stop

It’s the drugstore soul boy over the dub

With the sweetest inspiration, we don’t wanna stop

“The point is,” he continues, and the light is stretched across Murdoc’s face now as he looks down at him, piercing and straight on, curving electric down his cheek, stark against his dark eyes, “that I do think about it. It’s something that happened, and not something anyone can ignore. And sometimes I’m happy about it, ‘n sometimes I’m sad, and mostly I don’t know. But I can’t change it, and you can’t change it, ‘cause this is our reality, right? All we can do is make peace with it, really. ‘S different-different, and for me, at least, I think that’s okay.”

It is very quiet, the barest hint of music floating out towards them from the video. Then Murdoc nods, and gently presses his lips to Stuart’s temple.

“Guess you’ve changed over the past twenty years too, Stu.” The pad of Murdoc’s thumb brushes Stuart’s cheek, and Stuart lets his head fall to press against Murdoc’s chest, feeling his heart beat as the TV plays, and thinks that, just maybe, Murdoc had to happen to him, like someone out there’s writing their lives out like a story, like no matter what, it couldn’t ever have been any other way. Maybe that makes them soulmates, he supposes. Just a little bit.

He can hear his own voice singing in tandem with Noodle’s, and Russel’s, and Murdoc’s on the television. He’s always liked Re-Hash, because it was the first song they ever wrote and performed together as a band, and because it’s the only song where they all sing together as one, his own voice pressing them forward, Russel steady underneath, Murdoc rumbling low at the bottom, and Noodle skating over the top. Stuart leans back into the couch, facing the television again, watching himself crowded around a battered microphone with Noodle and Murdoc, Russel at his drumset in the back. He reaches up to the hand cupping his cheek, twining his fingers into it, and he squeezes gently, and softly, tentatively, Murdoc squeezes back.

The darkness crouches in the corners like a lingering embrace, the light spilling bright across the two of them together in comforting blues, and in that moment, everything that has ever happened is meant to be.

[maslany-news]

It was all of two-and-a-half minutes into the premiere of BBC America's Orphan Black when viewers realized that the show—which began with a woman witnessing the suicide of a stranger who happened to look exactly like her—was something special.

But not even star Tatiana Maslany could have guessed that the series would introduce a breathtakingly sprawling mystery about human clone sisters navigating morality, philosophy, genetics, feminism, family, and a complicated conspiracy that doesn't necessarily tie up into a neat bow at the end (sorry, Clone Club).

"I knew up to episode two," Maslany explains of what she expected when shooting started. "I didn't even know Helena existed until I was on set filming episode two of season one, and saw the next script and she shows up in episode three. I didn't know anything about where the plot was going. I was just like, 'How do we do this? How is this going to be possible?' What a cool challenge to face."

In the series finale, the clones (each personality crafted so masterfully by Maslany that it's easy to forget she plays them all) finally take down the man known as P.T. Westmoreland (Stephen McHattie)—who turns out not to be a 170-year-old genius responsible for discovering the key to genetic supremacy, but rather a 70-something egomaniac obsessed with immortality—and his deputy, Virginia Coady (Kyra Harper), presumably toppling their Neolution movement in the process.

"PLAYING SO MANY STRONG AND SMART WOMEN WHO TAKE DOWN A MEDIOCRE MAN—IT WAS THE BEST."

Though the episode doesn't answer every question of the five-season-long, ultra-complex story, the final moments show each clone living her newly free life: Alison and Donnie (Kristian Bruun) co-habitating in their suburban domestic bliss and helping new mom Helena raise her twins; Cosima and Delphine (Evelyne Brochu) off hunting for the rest of their 274 clone "sestras" in an effort to cure their clone-borne disease; and Sarah, foster brother Felix (Jordan Gavaris), and daughter Kira (Skyler Wexler) moving on as a family after the death of their foster mother, Mrs. S (Maria Doyle Kennedy).

A few days before the finale, MarieClaire.com sat down with Maslany to get those answers. In a Los Angeles coffee shop just a short walk from the home where she and her boyfriend, Welsh actor Tom Cullen, recently settled down, the 31-year-old Canadian beauty opened up about the show that changed her life, how science fiction is a lot more like our current reality, and what's next on her horizon.

On closure for the clones:

"The finale was sort of like a two-parter—it had high-action intensity in the first half that felt connected to the world that we've been living in, which is so extreme and horrifying. But what I was really excited about, and what I think we were all interested in, was that quiet after—what happens when you actually have freedom but people aren't able to move on? Like, Sarah is in this stasis where she's doing all the right things but she's not behind them. She's not there. She hasn't fully accepted the loss of S or really embraced the fact that now she can do whatever she wants.

One of my favorite endings is Rachel's because it's ambiguous. We don't know what she's going to do now. She's completely alone. She's been completely incapacitated in terms of everything that's given her power and value in the past, and now she's this blank slate going off into the world with no one.

She's still left out of the world of the other clones; it's still not her world to be in. I think she is who she is and I don't know that she would ever surrender completely. I don't think it's a surrender in terms of, like, the bad guy surrenders or whatever, but it's a surrender of power—which she does through giving Felix that complete list of clones. But she still can't go into that room where she's not invited. Her journey has really always been so interesting to me.

"[I'M] REALLY TAKING TIME TO GRIEVE THE SHOW AND LET IT GO AND NOT RUSH INTO THE NEXT THING."

Cosima and Delphine got a happy ending. They've gone through the wringer in terms of everything—distrust from day one and always being on two sides of the system. It was important to us to show that as a gay couple they could have a normal and have a happy life, and that it was about using their skills to stop this from ever happening to anybody else—that as much as it is a nice time, they still have to go out there and make sure that they're finding these women before it's too late.

We were going to have a montage at the end after the clones learn that there are 274 of them in the world that was like, this one working at her desk, this person over here...but then we were like, 'We don't have any time to shoot this. That's like 70 costume changes, this is not going to happen.'"

On P.T. Westmoreland:

"Given the political climate right now, it's really interesting to have the person at the top be this desperately insecure, powerful, yet completely inept being—this guy, this patriarch who is completely self-motivated and doesn't have any interest in whose lives he's destroying. It's all about him and all about sustaining life, this legacy of his life that he wants to create. It's such an empty thing. One of my favorite moments of the finale is when he's telling Sarah who she is and how he'll always be in her and she just bashes his head in and that's it. And it's just like, 'Shut up. Just stop fucking talking. I don't want to hear that anymore.'

Of all the evil characters on the show, his was the most satisfying death, just because it ended up being such an unceremonious one. It was sort of pathetic. I mean, there's a fight, obviously, but he's just an old man who needs to go. And I think Sarah's just fed up, done with it. That's the first kill she's ever done, as well. I mean, Helena was kind of a soft first kill because she came back."

On Helena's hair:

"I guess it just stuck. The roots just grew out a little bit over 20 years! I think that she's been marked somehow, and I think because she also discovers that she's a copy, she wants to be different from these people she's killing. She's marking herself and she has defined herself by her trauma, almost. She has ingested it as part of her.

I think she literally gets a bucket of bleach and sticks her head in it. It's like her cutting of her back, it's a self-flagellation thing."

On Kira's sixth sense about the clones:

"I think what Graeme [Manson, co-creator and executive producer] was playing with a little bit is that it's just this empath thing that she has through a biological, spiritual connection. I think you can get that with siblings, too. I have it with my brothers, where my brother and I will be on the phone and I know what he's going to tell me even though he hasn't told me yet. It's just a deep bond that is not scientific and not explainable in concrete terms."

On bringing back old characters:

"The problem with this season was that it was so jam-packed with so many things to get through and so many characters that we had established that we wanted to flesh out further, as opposed to bringing in a whole bunch of new people. That's why there wasn't really a new clone except in the very last second. You see Tony's photo in the finale, but we didn't want to bring Tony in unless he had something vital to do and it wasn't just, 'Remember that guy?' So I think it was about streamlining it to the five main clones that we got to know over the seasons."

On her favorite clone:

"I enjoyed playing Rachel the most. She is completely opposite of anybody I'd ever be cast as otherwise. She terrified me constantly.

There's something about Helena or Alison or Sarah or Cosima that I can physically feel, that I understand, but Rachel was so different, so contained, so entitled and powerful and elegant, moneyed and all of that, which is everything I sort of judge and don't feel connected to. So it was really fun to always find the empathy with her and find what the connection was there.

Given what was going on politically while we were shooting it, it was really fun to play a clone who thought she could be outside of the system, who didn't see herself as the same as all these other women, who sought to control it even though it was always going to control her. It was really fun to play these people who think they're better than or think they're outside of the humanity of other people."

On shooting the last episode:

"Filming the backyard scene with all the clones was insane. We shot that over two days and it took a lot of rehearsal beforehand just to get the simple thing of handing off a glass of wine or a bottle of beer or whatever. It was so fun because it didn't have any real pyrotechnics in it; it was just them relating to each other and all their insecurities and the things that they can't totally accept in themselves, these parts of themselves that kind of unite them. It was awesome because obviously Kathryn Alexandre was there, who's my clone double, who has worked with us since before season one, who has always been there. I always love working with her. And Bailey Corneal, who was my stand-in from the second season on, she's stepped in a few times and played Helena or Alison. So it's always fun to have that couple of girls together.

"[MY BOYFRIEND] WAS IN ORPHAN BLACK—HE WAS KRYSTAL'S EX-BOYFRIEND, THE GUY I KICKED IN THE BALLS."

They brought in a new clone in the finale, a Colombian, Camila Torres. It was so intense because they were writing the last episode as we were shooting the ninth, so it was so fast. And they were like, 'Oh, P.S., we think she's Colombian, and she speaks only in Colombian dialect.' I was like, 'Uh huh.' They were like, 'That's on Thursday.' It was Tuesday. I was like, 'Cool.' They're like, 'Also, learn this piece of music for Alison to play in that last moment.' I was like, 'Great.'

I took Spanish in high school, but I don't play piano. Now I do! And Kristian did a real strip tease. It was a really sexy, emotional strip tease where I'm trying to play the piano. It was his last Alison and Donnie scene, so we were both crying through that whole scene. He gave me those sweat bands that Donnie wore. I still have them.

The last thing we filmed was Coady dying with Helena stabbing her through the throat. I think the very last shot was actually an insert shot of me grabbing the weapon, so it's just my hand. But the cool thing about shooting that scene last was that Kevin [Hanchard, who plays Art] was there. Kevin was there on day one. He shot the very first scene on the series, so it was nice to come full circle."

On the show's title:

"We finally learn the explanation for the title in the finale—it's the name of Helena's journal. It was just kind of weirdly arbitrary in her head. It felt super weird to say the line that reveals it, because I was just like, 'How do I take the curse off of saying this out loud?' I still don't know why she named it that! I have no idea. Somewhere in her brain it makes sense."

On the impact of Orphan Black:

"THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ARE DATING NOW WHO MET THEIR PARTNER THROUGH CLONE CLUB. THAT IS JUST SUCH A COOL LEGACY."

"There's something really cool that came out of this show, which is this Clone Club community that impacted the way we've told these stories and our awareness of how fiction can effect change. It's a community that embraces its differences and embraces people for who they are and is really supportive. There's no infighting in that fan club and no discrimination. It's just beautiful. There are people from Australia and Detroit who have met up, talked about the show and bonded over it, and they've forged relationships. There are people who are dating now who met their partner through Clone Club. That is just such a cool legacy that's been left by the show, but mostly by the people who have watched the show."

On feminism:

"Playing so many strong and smart women who take down a mediocre man—it was the best. It was getting to put all the rage and fear and disappointment and need for action into our work. We were telling that story from day one about autonomy, and about community as opposed to individual, and about our differences actually uniting us and making us stronger. So to get to actually talk about this mediocre man at the top, take off his head, it was really cathartic. I remember the Women's March was happening when we had press so I couldn't go, which was totally devastating. But we were reading this script that was saying the things we all wanted to say and we were having these discussions on set constantly. And it was all feeding back into the work. I'm so grateful I was on a show where I got to do that, because I don't know how I'd get through it otherwise."

On what's next:

"Stronger [a film about the Boston Marathon bombing] will be out in September. It's an amazing story of survival and love. I don't know how people go through something like that and come out the other side of it, but they did. It's with Jake Gyllenhaal, who's unbelievable, and David Gordon Green directed it. It was really wild to do.

I'm also doing a movie that my boyfriend is directing. He just got funding for this very small-budget indie movie and we're in the throes of figuring that out right now. He's never directed me before, but we've acted together. We've worked together on a movie called The Other Half, which came out at SXSW two years ago. And he was in Orphan Black—he was Krystal's ex-boyfriend, the guy I kicked in the balls.

But I haven't done too much in the last few months other than creating stuff for myself and with a few friends. Really taking time to grieve the show and let it go and not rush into the next thing. I visited my little brother and my middle brother we just went on hikes and had coffee. Then I visited my boyfriend in the U.K. and we went away for a bit. And also I just slept. I rediscovered sleep."