#nos4a2 fanfic

[lollymiah]

Nos4a2 fanfic

Charlie Manx x oc

The winter was here, the world was white , the seas where frozen and it's been really cold outside today , at this night. The girl stand before the frozen sea and looks at the beautiful frozen woods , from time to time she picks some redcurrants from a branch. So as this time too , when she visiting the woods. She looks at the little branch in her hand and touch the redcurrants on it. The tiny fruits looks so red. Ally shiver and hears steps, that comes to hear. She could see a lean and tall young man, that comes to her , snow was at his blue coat and he stopped when he's reaching her. He smiles at her and looks around , before he asking her where her parents are. Ally tells him , that she runs away from home , because it was so horrible. She was sad. He look her a moment and gifted her with a candy can, picks her up and goes to his car , where parks in the near. She puts the branch into one of his pockets and waits for his reaction. Charlie look down , notice the branch and smiles at her, she pulls herself into his long coat. When they reached the car , he seats her inside , goes to the drivers place , goes into the car and after a minute they drive away. Ally fall asleep and dreams from the man , who has find her in the snow and that she gifted with redcurrants.

[an-indecisive-mess]

A Little List About Opal

Spoiler Warning Ahead for an Unpublished Fanfic!

Her parents were Space Ranger Zenith Sirius and Peter Sirius. Zenith (mother) was one of the more famous Rangers on the same level of popularity and heroism as Buzz Lightyear, while Peter (father) was a scientist at Star Command who helped construct many robotics and Star Cruisers. Peter died in a lab accident a few months after Opal was born, leaving Zenith to raise her by herself.

Opal was eight years old when her mother was killed on a mission to Planet Z. However, after her mother’s death, Opal refused to go into any foster homes or orphanages. She didn’t want another family. And with that, she grew up fending and protecting herself on the streets of Capital Planet. Stealing and fighting to survive, and developing a thirteen year long hatred for Star Command for not saving her mother.

Created a special space suit that allows her to turn invisible and anything she touches invisible as well. She even genetically modified her own DNA to make her turn invisible even without wearing the suit. To this, she goes by Ghost.

After getting arrested for attempting to destroy Star Command, she meets XL in prison, and the two end up becoming a dynamic crime duo shortly after they both worked together to escape prison. The two lived together after that which resulted into them falling in love with each other about six months after they first met.

Is technically the older sister of Nos4A2. This is because before her mother was killed on Planet Z, Zurg forced Zenith to build two energy vampires (Nos4A2 and an unactivated/unnamed female vampire) upon learning about her history as a former engineer at Star Command before becoming a Space Ranger. However, after building Nos4A2 and realizing what Zurg’s intentions for him and the other vampire were, Zenith refused to finish the female vampire and destroyed any copies of her schematics. Preventing the completion of the second vampire.

Aided in the defeat of her brother during the events of "Revenge of the Monsters". Before Ty was able to through him onto a metal spike and stake him through the heart, Opal (in a conscious wirewolf form) ripped off Nos4A2’s wings preventing him from escape and taking away something precious to him just as he almost took something precious from her: XL.

After the events of "Revenge of the Monsters", Opal and XL are reinstated at Star Command where Opal works as an engineer while XL is a fax machine. Both are studying to take the Entrance Exam, much like how Booster did, in order to become Space Rangers. After achieving this goal a year later, XL and Opal get married.

She and XL flirt with each other during important missions and it annoys everyone, especially XR because of how jealous he is that his older brother got a wife before he could get a date with anyone.

Her crimes before being reinstated at Star Command consist of attempted bombing of Star Command, kidnapping, attempted murder, impersonating a Space Ranger, theft, and attempted galactic genocide and conquest.

Opal’s aesthetic: Cyberpunk mixed with Spacecore

"Mean Bisexual" tm

Temperamental with a capital TEMPER

Her natural hair color is brown, but dyes it blue to match with her Ghost suit. She actually prefers the blue hair compared to her brown hair even after becoming a Space Ranger.

During a mission to Planet Z, Opal is severely wounded in action when trying to protect XL. To save her, XL puts Opal’s brain in the body of the unactivated/unnamed female vampire her mother once constructed. Unfortunately, Opal develops a fear of hurting her husband when she finds out, but XL assures her that no matter what body she has, he’ll always love the mind that accepted him for who he is when no one else did.

She still has the ability to turn invisible as an energy vampire.

In her vampire body, she likes to eat car and rocket batteries because they taste like pork chops.

[winter-redcurrants4]

Nos4a2 fanfic

(Charlie, Millie , Wayne )

It was night, everyone from the children went to bed , sleep with their stuffed toys and dream about their great and fun expericences they made this day at christmasland. It snowing outside , like so often at night. The lights where on , lights up the other houses. The room , in where the children sleep , where dark and large. It rooms around sixteen beds inside. But two beds was empty. Wayne stand outside , look up to the large , white moon on the night sky , surrended by many little stars. He stayed for a week at this beautiful place, but all seems so unreal to him , but he also feel that he was at home here. He hears steps, coming to him , he looks in the direction and reconice the beautiful girl , Millicent, who cames to him and after a moment she stand besides him in the snow. Her right hand touches the sword and following his look to the moon. Then she looks to the gates and sadness shines in her eyes. Wayne had understand that their father, Charlie, never stay long here, because he drives again away , to find new friends for them , to play with. Wayne wishes he could stay longer , even a bit. It was almost a week that Charlie was stayed gone, it was not unusual , but he's afraid that he didn't came back to them. The snow falling at them , but they feels no cold. He was tired, but he doesn't want to go sleep, until he knows that Charlie was save. Millie steped a bit near to the gates , hops that they will open themselves. Wayne was also hungry , the whole candy , he ate during the day , didn't help much. Millie looks back to the houses , make sure they where alone. She was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. She was nice to him and the others , wants to keep them save , like Charlie. He asking himself if the other children also are hungry like him. They haven't eat normal for a few days, only sweets. Wayne looks again to the moon , the white face was calm , the eyes closed , the lips showed a peaceful smile. On the top of the head wears the moon a red sleepyhead. Suddenly the gates opens themselves, the wrait drives inside , the doors closes and the car stopps. The door swings open and Charlie steped outside , closed thd door , goes to the trunk , open it , put something out , closed the trunk again and comes to the two , with the food. The man looks around , then Charlie pack him, hold him and bite him in the neck. Millie and Wayne watching him , as he stills his own hunger. Then he let go of the man, puts him down to the ground. "Hello Children," greeding he the two as he wipes away the blood from his lips. The two came to him , hugs him. Wayne was glad that he has returned. Charlie wistles and suddenly the other children comes across the house , to eat the late meal their father has brought them. He let go of Wayne and Millie, as the others hugs him , some other went to the food and starts to eat. Wayne joins them. The flesh and blood tasted somehow sweet , but he don't care about that now. After a moment the hunger was gone and he let go. He feels sleepy now. The others finished their meal and return in the house , into their beds, returning to sleep. Wayne and Millie follows them , with Charlie behind. After they lay in bed , he wishes them a good night and leaves the room. Wayne smiles and closed his eyes. After a moment he was asleep.

[bunnylouisegrimes]

Unusual Thanksgiving (NOS4A2 Longish-Drabble Fic)

(A/N: As of writing this, it’s the weekend. I’ve noticed at least every weekend for a few weeks now I post some short little Drabble to help let out my emotions. Here’s another one that’s a little bit longer. With Thanksgiving coming up and my ass having little time to think of something and cook it up (pun intended), I thought I’d take the approach of having whatever come to my mind and writing it out. It’s a unique one, as you don’t usually associate horror and angst alongside the family fluffiness of Thanksgiving, but... here we are! I remember a while back I wrote how Rose’s parents would react to her having a relationship with Charlie, and that was one of my inspirations, alongside how rough things are this year. I’d like to wish you all Happy Thanksgiving ahead of time. Stay safe and enjoy a good ass feast. It’s been tough, and it’s had some highlights, but now’s the time we can all put aside our differences and whatever else bullshit and be thankful about what we do have this year; whether it be supplies or each other, we’ll get through this. 🧡🍂🍁🦃)

(Apologize for no Read More, posting this from mobile, and I found the image randomly, so if you want credit, let me know).

November is a beautiful and calming time of the year, but under certain circumstances, it can be oddly scary. This is most likely due to how dead the world is. There’s usually no snow, and what leaves remain are brown, have decayed from the trees, and collapsed to the ground to crumble and rot. I noticed this when I was younger, and part of me thought November was spookier than Halloween in some cases.

Of course, to me, any time of the year could be scary. Horror doesn’t stop and end at one point; it is an infinite occurrence that follows humanity wherever we go.

From the time I was a little kid, I would find horror in the most obscure of places. Scary movies never bothered me, and in fact, I was always excited when I watched them. What should’ve terrified me brought me nothing but adrenaline and fascination. Instead, odd things scared me, things most people would poke fun at if they saw my reaction to them, things most would shrug off. Call me Freudian, but perhaps my fears, just as yours are, are based in our differing subconscious minds, so there is no true definition of “stupid” horror.

The one thing that I know for certain that’s frightened me since I was younger are bees, wasps, yellow jackets, and hornets. Why these little yellow and black bugs terrify me, I will never truly know the answer as to why. Is it because they’re so small, yet they can hurt you so badly? Is it because of their appearance? I don’t want bees to die out, as I know of their importance, and bumbles don’t bother me because they usually leave you alone (and they’re oddly cute), but any other bee or wasp can stay away from me. I’ve never even been stung by one, yet one buzz or sight of one near me makes my body react instantaneously. I get away as much as I can and even scream sometimes. Not wise to scream or move a lot when you’re in their presence, I know. But when your body reacts the way it does, what are you to do?

When I was a little bit older, I would say roughly 8 or 9 years old, a new type of fear spawned its way into my mind: the fear of shadow people.

I don’t know what it is about those things either that scare me so much. When I first discovered I had this fear, I believe I was watching an episode of Ghost Adventures, and I saw them capture a really clear shadow figure on camera. It chilled me to the bone, and from then on, just the thought of one creeped me out. One particular episode where the crew went to an old, abandoned and haunted Tuberculosis sanitarium got to me because shadow figures were prominent there, and they actually captured two on camera going down a long hallway.

Shadow people, from what I’ve seen online, are very mysterious. They could come from another dimension, they could be demonic; some are harmless, others are harmful, and it’s all dependent on what experience you have with them. Zak Bagans and his crew have come across quite a few demonic ones, and their guests have usually described them as tall, thin, 6-7 foot tall entities that are dark both in physicality and energy. They look like an individual spray painted with pitch black aerosol, and darker than a room if it were void of all light. Sometimes they have red or white eyes, and sometimes they can have differing appearances that are just as terrifying as the blank appearances they often have. They can stand there and look over you while you’re sleeping at night, they can stand in a corner and stare at you, maybe rocking a bit, they could dart down a hallway, hiding from you, they can crawl on the floor, they can crawl on the ceiling... whatever it is they do, it’s all bone chilling to me, and I hate it all with a burning passion. I don’t care even if they were harmless: If I were to ever see one in real life, I would have a heart attack.

That is why I am thankful I’ve only seen them either when I’m paranoid for whatever reason before I go to sleep (but they’re not really there, my mind’s just playing tricks on me), or if I have a nightmare and they’re present. This story will focus on the latter.

*************************************************

Halloween, Charlie’s birthday on November 1st, the Election... it all came and left sooner than expected, and we needed to plan what we were doing about Thanksgiving. I know, a vampire who’s all about Christmas celebrating other holidays. It seems unreal, but I assure you, he has respect for other holidays as well. Christmas just happens to be his favorite and one that brings him and the kids lots of comfort and joy. They say Christmas is a state of mind and is never truly over, so... I suppose Charlie is just a living embodiment of that saying.

With COVID still in full swing, and cases breaking records everyday, people were stocking up on supplies yet again alongside their Turkey Day feasts. We knew we had to hurry up and order stuff the week before Thanksgiving at most.

Living in Gunbarrel, Colorado, away from everyone except for each other and the kids when we spent quite a few days in Christmasland each week, it was relieving to know we weren’t around tons of people. The virus wouldn’t affect Charlie or the kids, but me being the only human, and one with asthma, it would, so it was calming to not have to worry as much as many other folks about exposure. Not to mention, the town was small, and everybody knew everybody. Whenever we did enter town, which took 10 minutes to get to, we would see everyone keeping their distance and respecting each other. It was nice to see our small and (just about) off-the-grid community helping each other during these times.

The only two local stores were an Acme that everyone went to, and the Gunbarrel General Store, owned by a kindly old man who looked like Santa Clause named Sam. Before everyone rushed to Acme, we decided on doing a curbside pickup order, and picking up anything else that was not available at Sam’s, as he was sure to provide lots of Thanksgiving food.

It was going to certainly be an interesting Thanksgiving without my usual family, and not being back home, but I was going to call them on that fateful Thursday and talk to them for a few hours. Charlie and I would have a small dinner together, and we would spend most of the day in Christmasland with our children, dining on delicious food and laughing together. The thought warmed my heart and made me feel better about this Thanksgiving. We would be okay, and everything would be fine, despite my horrible dreams...

For whatever reason, over these past few weeks, my dreams were plagued with shadow people haunting me. No explanation was given, and no explanation would need to be given for it to still occur and damn near break me. Maybe it was some sort of unresolved issue going through the back of my mind, maybe it was fueled by my stresses of being busy lately, but regardless of whatever the issue was, I was haunted by them. The day after Charlie’s birthday, we watched the original Nosferatu together, and I fell asleep near the end, experiencing the first of these dreams.

I was walking down a dark and cold hallway. I was 8 years old again. I don’t know how I knew this, but it was one of those instances where you know a random piece of information in a dream. I was holding two small plastic My Little Pony figurines I got from Happy Meals at that time, a small Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash. I hadn’t seen those toys in years, yet there they were in my hands. When I looked up, a shadow person was standing near the end of the pathway. It stood tall and authoritative, looming over me as if it wanted to grab me and drag me down the corridor straight into Hell, or wherever it came from.

I took off running, and it crawled on all fours after me. I screamed and kept running until I came across a goofy, tall, and lanky figure: Count Orlock, or the actual Nosferatu himself, was standing there. I hid behind him and begged him to protect me. He smiled his stupid smile and looked down at the shadowy behemoth. It seemed to back down a bit once he snarled at it. It backed up behind a corner, peaking at us once before vanishing.

My relief was short lived for only a few moments because Orlock wandered off into the darkness.

“Where are you going? Come back here!” I tried to call after him, but I was cut off by the shadow figure crawling on the ceiling and grabbing me. I gave a scream and found myself awake on the couch, springing to life and hearing the opening music to Downton Abbey greeting me. Charlie had tuned in after the movie. He looked at me with a confused and concerned look. I explained everything to him and he comforted me, laughing at the thought of the original Nosferatu visiting me.

The dreams afterward were more terrifying than the first. One dream featured a shadow person staring over me as I slept, another featured one standing in the corner of the room twisting and contorting its head violently. The third had a shadow figure hunched over near a window within an abandoned building. I was walking through the woods in another nightmare when a whole group of them were peaking at me through the trees. I ran down another hallway and one was behind me. I was in an unknown house and down the hall near the steps, one was charging towards me. Each time, I would wake up and feel unsettled. Charlie would comfort me, but it was always hard to fall back asleep, for I feared I’d be terrorized by the evil onyx creatures wanting nothing more than to consume me in their shadowy force and make my soul rot.

Despite all of my terror and the tiredness that accompanied my days, the focus for today would have to be Thanksgiving dinner.

“My mom mailed me the recipe to her sweet potatoes last week, and let me tell you, they are actually sweet and delicious,” I told Charlie. “So you can put down all the ingredients for that. We already got turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes written down... Oh! Green bean casserole, put that down... and we need apple and pumpkin pie. We already have whip cream and gravy in the fridge, and cider is in the cabinet. I think that’s everything.”

Charlie nodded and wrote these things down. Once he was done, he looked over the list and showed me.

“Yup, that’s everything! Alright, let’s look up to see what Acme has.”

As I pulled up the site on my phone, he spoke up.

“Rosie, are you bothered by not seeing your family? If so, we can visit them on Thanksgiving Day or I could go the extra mile and bring them here if you’d like.”

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “I’m alright, baby. I know they’ll be alright too. Things seem to be... okay between us, even if we did get into arguments since last we spoke in person.”

He looked down and felt guilty.

“Hey, don’t you feel guilty,” I reassured him. “It’s their fault, not yours. They see you in whatever light they want to, but I know who you really are, and I love you. I don’t care what they say or think about you, hence why I’m sticking by you and left with you to come here.”

He nodded and pulled me close to him, resting his chin on my head. “I admit, my darling, I am constantly bothered by this thought that I have destroyed the relationship you have with your family.”

“Like I said, they’re the ones that can’t accept that you and I truly love each other. I’ve been patient and offered them every chance to accept you. I’ve explained and talked to them, but they don’t want to listen to my reasoning. I don’t know what else to do.”

He kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’m glad that you at least still talk to each other.”

“Me too. At least we have that... but let’s not worry about that. We got food to focus on.”

We ordered everything that we could (the only things not available until the week of Thanksgiving were the two pies, but we knew Sam would have them). When the time came, we loaded into the Wraith and the trunk was packed with our dinner. We stopped by the General Store and Sam happily gave “Father Christmas” (as Charlie was known as) the pies. Since it was still light out, we decided to go for a drive to enjoy the autumn weather. As I mentioned before, November is usually dead and brown, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t peaceful and calm. We observed the soothing and cold weather as Fleetwood Mac and The Doors sang along on the old radio.

While gazing at the brown leaves and bare trees rocking their branches above us, I drifted off to sleep without even thinking about it. Stevie Nicks and Jim Morrison’s voices melted into oblivion as I found myself walking through a tranquil forest of dead trees. Cold, I wrapped my arms around myself until I felt a bit warmer, and I saw a grove of orange trees. It was as if I teleported back in time to October, and the trees were still alive with vibrant color.

I ran over to them, taken aback by their beauty. The leaves that were on the ground were still orange, and I tossed them up into the air with childish carelessness. At last! For once, I was having a good dream!

However, that enjoyment would be cut short when I looked into the distance in between the trees. The world and my joy winded down like a dying record player.

From somewhere beyond the misty horizon, a pair of white eyes were watching me.

Dread hit me and I ran away. The trees began to rot again, and the orange faded into brown. The sunlight morphed into fog, and the warmth dissipated from my body. I fell to the ground, tripping over my own clumsy feet.

Now I was somewhere entirely different. I was in a dark, unfamiliar bedroom. I couldn’t move except for my eyes, like I was suffering from sleep paralysis. I looked up to see the shadow figure that was hiding behind the trees. Its white eyes were dimmer than before, and its solid black body cast lighter shadows behind it. I tried to scream, but I could only choke out vocalizations as it covered my mouth.

It lifted its ice cold hand from my mouth and pointed to the left. My eyes glanced in that direction and a scream broke from my throat.

A pointy eared demon with beady eyes, a close together face, and a sickening smile was on top of my chest. Its body was too dark to make out any notable features, but it was lighter than the shadow next to me. The pressure on top of me crushed the life from my lungs. It continued to smile, as if nothing in the world bothered it at all.

Before my scream ran out of air, it wrapped its cold hands around my neck and tightened to the point it was strangling me. The rest of my scream died out, my eye sight was fading until it was only a pinhole...

Air rushed into my lungs as I jolted into a conscience state once again. My eyes darted rapidly and my body clung to the leather seat of the Wraith. We were no longer driving, and instead parked in the garage. A wave of nausea flooded my head and stomach, and I pressed my hand to my eyes. My mind finally registered Charlie’s soft voice.

“Rose! My sweet Rose! Whatever is the matter?”

“I... Jesus Christ... I... had another nightmare... this was... Good God, how else could I describe it?!”

While we gathered the groceries into the house, I detailed my horrifying dream to him. He was immensely disturbed and decided enough was enough.

“I know you believe in ghosts and demons and the sort,” said he, “and I know such things exist, since I’ve seen spirits and souls before. Because of this, you and I can pray before you go to sleep tonight. Unlike other vampires, holy things do not bother me, unless I were to drink or touch holy salt or holy water, in which case I would feel some discomfort thanks to the darker side of my being. I have an old angel doll that my daughters used to play with and hold whenever they felt uncomfortable or scared. That could help you too. I will hypnotize you and make you have sweet dreams. If any dark entity is going to mess with you, I will protect you. I don’t think you have an attachment, but these dreams are certainly unusual.”

I agreed to all of this. That night, we said a prayer together, I snuggled with the angel doll, and he hypnotized me to sleep. I had a dream I couldn’t remember, but it was certainly the most peaceful I had in a while, and it was even better then the beginning of that nightmare I had that evening.

A sense of purity filled my heart, and I knew nothing dark would ever hurt me or anyone I loved, as whatever God that may be out there as my witness.

*************************************************

Thanksgiving arrived at an unbelievably fast rate. No other bad dreams tormented me, and I couldn’t have felt more happy. Charlie and I worked together to prep dinner. When I finished making sure the turkey was good and putting it in the oven, Charlie presented me with a package.

“It’s from your home,” he observed.

I opened it up at the dining room table and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was the Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash figurines from my childhood. Underneath them, was a heartfelt letter from my family, detailing how they had recently found these toys and thought of me. They missed me, and they even apologized for all of their harsh words against me and Charlie. They gave it some thought, and they came to the conclusion that as long as I was happy and in love, and as long as Charlie truly loved me and treated me well, then all was perfectly fine. They wished us a very happy Thanksgiving from 2 hours ahead and many miles away.

Tears fell from my cheeks. I was crying of joy for more than the obvious reason being that my family and I were rekindling together.

I realized now why I had such horrible dreams. It was either my worries and fears of my family not being together haunting me, or maybe even some dark force, but Twily and Dashie here weren’t random parts of that first dream at all; they served as symbolism. They represented hope and familial innocence long lost, now brought back to light. Maybe they sent a message out in the universe to my family that Charlie was a good man. That could also be why Orlock was protecting me in that same dream, but him leaving symbolized my family keeping Charlie away from me, therefore causing bad things to happen to me. And perhaps when Charlie helped me and cleansed all darkness (regardless of it being real or not), those ponies knew ahead of time he was going to do that, and reassured my family he was always going to protect me. It sounded bizarre, but it was the best reasoning I could come up with to explain these odd coincidences.

I immediately called my family afterwards and told them everything. They were chilled themselves because my mother had a dream the night before about Charlie bringing forth bouts of light to protect me from a wave of darkness, and she thought it was her brain processing her acceptance of him, but now that my story was told, it made things even clearer.

We concluded talking by coming up with a date to have dinner together and to see each other again back home. We exchanged I love yous and Happy Thanksgivings, and I hung up feeling thankful. As Charlie and I ate a bit of dinner, as we went to Christmasland, and as we ate lots of food with our children, warmth and light abundant, I was grateful that I had the family I did, the boyfriend and children that I did, and the light that still shined in the universe, even on the most darkest of days. This year has been hard, but gratitude for all the good, hope, and love, even when we’re distant figuratively, literally, or both, makes this holiday season a brighter one.

[arwen17]

CNN cancels Christmas and Charlie Manx Goes on a Rampage

*CNN announces on TV that Christmas is canceled.* Charlie's response: It hardly mattered to me when they canceled every other holiday this year. Those are useless holidays anyway. But the gall they have to think they or anyone else can cancel Christmas. I am speechless. The adults in this modern era are truly despicable and deserve whatever fate their miserable lives concocts for them. This virus has been rather enjoyable really. It targets the old and the weak, the gluttonous and others lacking in self-control, but it almost universally spares the innocent children. When all of the adults are dead by my hand or this silly virus, there will be no one left to come up with such preposterous notions as "cancel Christmas". Be of good cheer, my children, for you shall inherit the entire earth once every Christmas-hating adult fool is dead. *insert epic slaughter montage scene here.... set to Christmas music* Charlie Manx is like Klaus’ slaughter time set to Christmas: music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFNIf6v0OQs Yes, this music really happened in the show! Not an edit!

[cherry-moonlight]

Life Could Be A Dream - Chapter Five

{NOS4A2 - Charlie Manx x Reader}

{A/N} Sorry this one took a little longer, mid-chapter my wrists started acting up. Carpal tunnel is a monster. D: Anyways, I hope you enjoy and that I’m doing our beloved Charlie some justice at least so far. <3 Warnings: None.

Chapter Five - This Isn’t Real

My voice had returned and my mind was racing even more than I expected it could’ve when Vic stopped talking. She picked up a pen from the table we sat at in the kitchen and fidgeted with it, clicking the top a few times as she looked me in the eye. It was clear she was waiting for any kind of response to the boatload of information she’d dumped on me.

“So I’m a… strong creative,” I made air quotes around the words that sounded more like a question than a statement.

She looked at me and nodded. “You don’t need to lose your voice every time you use it, though. I have a friend who’s just like us. Her name’s Maggie.. She figured out how to keep herself from dealing with the cost of using her gift.”

“What’s her gift?” I interrupted, curious.

“Her tiles,” she rasped. “She has a purple bag with scrabble tiles in them. They’ll tell you anything you want or need to know as long as you ask them. But, we have gotten the tiles mixed up before.”

All of this sounded like some magical bologna that I could’ve found in a novel somewhere, and had I not used my gift myself and seen the outcome with my own eyes, I would’ve laughed and told her she was losing her mind.

“Anyway, Maggie told me you either have to hurt yourself… or someone else.”

It sounded as though she was reluctant to tell me the latter of the two options.

“What’s the cost of your gift?” I asked again.

She hesitated, setting the pen down and looking me in the eye. “My eye,” was all she said, and I put it together.

I had seen her come back countless times that week with a bloodied eye, but the last time it seemed to have gotten worse. When we left Christmasland, it was bleeding. It all clicked then.

“But Maggie burns herself with a cigarette every time she uses her tiles,” she continued. “I’m sure you can find something to keep you from losing your voice. You have to focus on the pain in order to make it work. But don’t hurt people, {Y/N}.”

I nodded, taking mental notes of her advice. I’d never been told to hurt myself for any reason before but I guessed there were a lot of things that were new to me when it came to this seemingly supernatural situation. My lungs filled with air as I absentmindedly sighed. It felt as though I was thrust into a film and forced to figure out the plot. I was more thankful for Vic than I could’ve ever expressed.

The clock on the wall felt as though it ticked slower than usual as I realized how late it was. Time had gotten away from all of us once we’d started looking for Wayne together. After Vic extracted me from Christmasland on her dirt bike through the tunnel I saw in the forest, she instructed me not to say a word to anyone about what had happened. Wanting to gain her trust enough to figure out what all of this meant, I complied. Once we arrived back at their place and Lou went to bed, she stayed up to elucidate what was going on. But before she got into my gift, she explained that hers was not what I thought was a tunnel, but the bridge.

She called it an inscape. Her “shorter way.”  

But after all of our efforts, it came to be that Wayne hadn’t actually been missing. He’d simply run off to play and threw Vic and Lou -and me- into a spiral of worry. Or at least, that was his story and he was sticking to it.

“Your knife is your voice,” she began again. “And your inscape…” Her brow furrowed as she looked around, picking up the pen again. “Well, I’m not sure. What were you doing when you found Christmasland?”

“Singing,” I said immediately. “I was looking for Wayne and singing.”

She clicked the pen on the table a few times, looking as though she were completely uneasy.

“Maybe you have a shorter way, too,” she swallowed hard, as though that wasn’t the first thing to come to mind.

“But Wayne was never at Christmasland,” I added.

“No.. No he wasn’t. But that bastard Charlie Manx is trying to change that.”

Ah. Charlie Manx.

The man of the evening that I wanted desperately to know so much more about. Vic had abruptly taken me from Christmasland without so much as an explanation, and at least now I knew why she was there. Still, curiosity had gotten the better of me to say the least. He was all I could think about during our search for Wayne and I was slightly bitter that I didn’t get to figure out what I was doing at the winter wonderland in the past through questioning him. He seemed to know far more about me than I knew about myself.

“What about him, anyway?” I questioned, trying not to sound as though I were too excited to get into the subject. “Who is he? What is Christmasland? Where is Christmasland?”

She leaned back in the chair, slipping out of her motorcycle jacket and hanging it on the backrest as her eyes seemed to grow dark.

“Christmasland is Charlie Manx’s inscape. It’s just a big, intricate figment of his sick imagination. His knife is a classic Rolls Royce Wraith, and he picks up innocent kids and he kidnaps them with it, and then brings them to Christmasland.”

Her voice became rushed and shaky.

“Once they’re there.. Well, I don’t know if they ever get out. They turn into something else.. Something inhuman. They attack people and they think he’s their father.”

She spit the words out like venom on the tongue. I wasn’t sure why, but I almost felt offended that she was speaking of him that way. My thoughts drifted back to when he called me by his last name.

“He thinks he’s doing them a service, these kids, by taking them from what he calls “neglectful parents” and giving them the home they never had,” her expression twisted into a cringe. “It’s somethin’ out of a horror movie. Probably why the plate on the Wraith says Nosferatu…” she finished, the statement sounding like a solemn attempt at a joke.

I had a voice now but I still sat in silence, mulling over everything she’d said. It was easy to remain quiet, especially when I had no idea how to handle what was going on when none of it seemed real. It was a lot to grasp, but the more information I had, the better. I must’ve looked as though I were deep in thoughts I shouldn’t have been having, because she reached over and grabbed my wrist then, her slender fingers squeezing it tightly.

“You can’t go back to Christmasland, {Y/N}. No matter what you do or what you think you need. It’s not safe. He’ll kill you. He’s tried to kill me, and Maggie, and..” she trailed off, clearly remembering something else. “Just don’t go, okay? Promise me.”

Somewhere deep in my chest, I felt a pang of hurt again. That kind of sensation where your heart breaks and you know the tears are next. Holding it in, I looked her in the eye, and against what I knew I wanted, I nodded.

“I promise.”

-x-x-x-

This was all more information than I could process in a day. My eyes were heavy as I layed on the couch and pulled the fuzzy blanket they’d given me over my shoulders. The house creaked and groaned occasionally as it settled for the night and it was warm and cozy inside despite the chill outside.

My day had been long and confusing, from the funeral, to visiting my house to grab my things, to finding myself at Christmasland. While I knew I promised Vic I’d never go back, I couldn’t shake the thought of it. The way the snow glistened under the lights; the way the maze of ice seemed to go for miles; the way the houses looked like gingerbread creations and— the way he smiled. His dark, deep set eyes narrowing at the corners just a bit as his lips pulled upwards with them. As though he had a million secrets and he was about to let you in on every single one of them.

I rolled over on the couch, and tried to think of something else as I dozed off, but I couldn’t help that my thoughts were too adamant for my own good. I didn’t understand how I could’ve been so captivated by him, especially after Vic’s rendition of Charlie as she knew him. Something deep inside told me I knew another version, and I just had to figure out which. But I’d made a promise to her, and learning about him personally was no longer an option. No matter how hard I tried to think of anything else, the last fragments of imagination that materialized behind my eyelids were of him.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the road to what I thought before was nowhere. The snow topped trees lined either side, but the moon in the sky was brighter than usual— in fact, so were the stars and everything else that surrounded me. The entire Milky Way could be seen above me, and everything I set eyes on was awe inspiring. Studying myself, I noticed I wore a deep crimson rockabilly halter dress with a big black bow tied in the back. I felt like a present wrapped under a tree, and while dresses weren’t my norm, I felt just as pretty as the atmosphere around me.

Oh, it was my usual dream, but it seemed every time I dreamt it, the more it changed. This time, it was gorgeous.

Snowflakes fell like glitter as I made my way forward, admiring the beauty of the surreal world that surrounded me. It was as though everything was suddenly clearer; as though my place in this icy dreamscape was solidified. My ears caught vague hints of the song that brought me to Christmasland, and I quickly realized that I was facing the wrong way. The twinkling lights weren’t ahead of me anymore, but a spectrum of colorful lights caught my attention as they reflected against the snow from behind me. With a deep breath I tried to conceal my smile. If I couldn’t visit it in real life anymore, my dreams did me the honor.

Upon turning around, I was met with the sight of Christmasland’s gates just up ahead. I’d finally reached my destination, and I knew exactly what my dream was all about. The entire time my subconscious was trying to remind me of a memory; a memory I’d soon revisit.

Seemed a little dramatic to me to have the dream so often, especially after how short my time there was, but at least I knew. I knew that there was more to me than just being the girl with a rough past and an unstable future.

When I took a step forward, I heard his voice.

“It is wonderful, isn’t it?” He said somewhat wistfully.

Charlie had appeared next to me at some point and I hadn’t even noticed in my mystified state. Still, just as he had in person, he stood a small distance away from me. I hoped my voice worked this time as I opened my mouth to speak.

“It’s beautiful,” I smiled.

Thank goodness I still had my voice. However, I had to remind myself this was only a dream. Even if it was lucid, it mattered not what I said or how I said it. But it was still the only chance I’d get to immerse myself in whatever fantasy this was anymore. It was the only place I could let my desires run freely without the repercussions of losing my only friend, and really, my only hope as survival. I rolled with my audience of Charlie Manx. Maybe my subconscious could answer a few of my burning questions about the situation, but he spoke before I could again.

“I must say, I was surprised to see you so quickly after your mother’s passing. My condolences..” He ended his sentence with a hint of joy, as though he were glad the death of my mother brought me to Christmasland, accident or not.

“It wasn’t my intention, but I guess it was meant to happen.”

I held my hands in front of me, letting our eyes meet. The electricity I felt buzzed through the air. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I didn’t want to lose myself so soon in the illusion. Fidgeting with the ends of my hair, I stood taller and began my small line of questioning.

“What is this place? Why do you know me?”

There was a glint in his eye as I spoke to him, as though he were absorbing my voice, some kind of odd pride becoming him. With a wave of his hand to gesture me to follow, he began a stroll towards the gates. I did as he suggested, wanting to hear what he was going to say.

“What do you remember?” He countered instead.

Damn it.

I tried my best to pull any memory I could from the darkest parts of my mind, sighing with a faint shrug.

“Not much.. I remember riding the carousel.. And playing the carnival games. Running between the flashing lights and laughing with other children,” I tried to rattle off, hoping a new memory would suddenly appear. “I remember how to get out of the maze, but I can’t remember ever being there..”

I peeked over at him.

“You did love the carousel,” was all he said, like he was waiting for me to make a breakthrough on my own. Until he spoke again.

“You were a model child at Christmasland, my dear. You played well with the others, made sure no one was left out. In fact, you enjoyed Millie’s company very much.”

Millie…

The name rang a bell, but before I had time to ask, he continued.

“You came to us one day quite on your own, which hadn’t happened before, and hasn’t happened again. I’m sure you’ve realized by now that that voice of yours brings you to Christmasland. Of course, you didn’t know that the night your father laid hands on your mother. But you left your cruel home to soothe yourself with song. The next thing we all knew, there you were. Tearful, and quite pitiful-looking outside of the Candy Cane Gates.”  

“I came here on my own..” I reworded out loud, attempting to piece together any thoughts from that night.

It happened in my house more often than not, more often than anyone should’ve endured or any child should’ve seen. I remembered the night I left, the only night I left. For the life of me, I could not remember singing my way to Christmasland. At the same time, it was nice to hear that my scrambled memories weren’t just things I’d made up or imagined. They were real. I was there. Then again, no matter how vivid the entire dream was, I had to remind myself it was just that. A dream. This was all coming from my own mind.

“From then on we took you in,” he finished. “I knew there was something special about you.. That you were a strong creative, just as myself. That, and you wouldn’t have dreamed of putting yourself in a predicament that would place you on the naughty list.”

He offered a charming smirk at his quirky bit of information about me and I looked away, fighting the pull towards him I felt when he did. I assumed that my need to be good was out of fear after what Vic told me about him. But what he said next surprised me.

“You must bring Bruce Wayne McQueen to me, {Y/N}.”

My brows pinched together almost immediately. Victoria was right.. Or was this just my subconscious making Victoria right?

“Why?” was all I said.

“Because he wants to be here, with me, my dear. He’s told me so himself. I was well on my way to helping him, and then you made an appearance at Christmasland.. I’m man enough to admit that your surprise arrival distracted me enough to let the boy slip away. You must help me get him back now. Do not listen to Victoria. She doesn’t understand how unhappy her son is. He longs to join me and the other children. To finally be safe from her derelict ways of alcoholism and neglect.”

For being my dream, the request was odd.

“I— I would never bring Wayne here.. Vic told me all about you. All about how you think you’re doing right by these children but you’re not. I would never betray her like that. She’s given me a home when she didn’t...“  I cut myself off and regrouped, not wanting to get personal, whether it was real or not.

Despite my rattling off, he didn’t make a sound. He simply let me, as though he knew something I didn’t. As though it didn’t matter what I said, because he would find his way anyway.

“This isn’t even real.” I continued, stopping in my tracks, not moving any further towards the gates. “You’re not here. I don’t know why my thoughts are panning out this way, but I’m not bringing Wayne to Christmasland. I don’t know why I chose to stay here when I was a kid but I have a feeling I didn’t have a choice.”

He stopped several ahead and turned to face me. Shaking my head, I ran my hand back through my hair and dared to let my eyes rest on his again. There was a hint of sorrow in his eyes, like I’d disappointed him— but only for a second. I immediately began to speak again.

“This isn’t real,” I repeated, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince anymore.  

“Not real?” The expression on his handsome features changed into something near mischievousness as he arched a single thick brow and approached me. It was the closest he’d gotten to me since we’d met again.

My heart pounded in my chest as I wondered what was going to happen. Each step he took was slow and calculated. It felt as though he didn’t want to get so close, but had a point to prove in doing so. My dress began to feel tight around my chest as I tried to steady my breathing.

Can you die from a dream?

He towered over me once we were opposite each other, and I allowed myself to look up, holding his gaze. Swallowing hard, I inhaled deeply and waited for whatever fate was to become me, mustering the strength to endure whatever was going to happen should I not wake up. It crossed my mind to pinch myself; to wake up before anything traumatic happened. But something within me wanted to stay. It was a strange sensation to stare what might’ve been my brightest dream or darkest nightmare in the face and not know which way the chips were going to fall.

Confusion was all I could sift through when his large hand reached for my neck, placing his thumb and index finger on either side of it as his palm rested lightly against my clavicle. I watched his features, noticing his jaw clench just enough for me to wonder if I had imagined it.

My {E/C} eyes were full of fear that I knew he had to see, but I stood still, waiting for his grip to tighten or his careful movements to turn into some kind of gruesome act. But as the seconds passed, I instead felt how cold his hand was despite not feeling the chill in the air around us; how gentle his touch was against my warm flesh. He treated me as though I were a porcelain doll, set to break at any moment if he made the wrong move. The faintest of smiles placed itself on his lips then, and my heart kicked up for a different reason that I hoped he couldn’t detect in my pulse.

“Wake up,” he instructed, showing off the velvet in his voice.

I gasped awake. Blinking my eyes rapidly through the blackness that was the dark room to gain any kind of clarity about my surroundings. I haphazardly reached over to the coffee table in front of the couch, tapping my phone’s screen for the time before looking around the room through the small amount of light. It was the middle of the night and I was still at Vic’s. Of course the dream wasn’t real. A quiet laugh passed through my nose as I shook my head and settled back into the couch, listening to the quietness around me. Almost hoping deep down that I would hear his voice again. But it all was silent.

What a strange dream it had been this time.

Charlie Manx had certainly made an impression on me, and I wasn’t sure yet in what kind of way. I didn’t want to think I was infatuated by his charm and devilish good looks, but it seemed more and more that I couldn’t deny the feeling. At least the only place I’d ever see him anymore was in my dreams. I couldn’t break my promise to Vic.

As I laid back down and stared up into the darkness of the ceiling, I let my hand linger up to my neck where his hand had been in my dream.

I bolted upright again when I felt a necklace that wasn’t there before.

My fingers swiftly felt around for a pendant or any sort of indication of what the piece of jewelry contained, and when I found it, I lost my breath altogether. Remaining deathly still, I held it.

It was the locket I’d hidden in my little cedar chest for years.

[pythons-art]

This is a long time coming, a full redraw of a very old (circa 2013) piece of art. I really love how my style has evolved, as well as my characters. 

Haven’t been involved in the Buzz Lightyear of Star Command fandom in a very very long time, but if anyone recalls this original piece is from the fanfic ‘Under His Control’, in the finale. Old fandom stuff is fun to look back on. 

[messers-moony]

Slytherin • Child of Athena • INFJ

Aries ☼ • Libra ☽ • Gemini ✯

The Challenger • She/Her • LGBTQ+ Ally

Potterhead • Umbrella Fanatic • Shadow & Bone Enthusiast

Bookworm • Comic book nerd • Digital Designer

Killjoy • Parxie • Clikke

Writer • Photographer • Editor

Harry Potter -> Click

Aidan Gallagher -> Click

Percy Jackson -> Click

Grishaverse -> Click

Prompts -> Click

Percy Jackson • Umbrella Academy • DC Universe

Six of Crows • NOS4A2 • Shadow and Bone

Heroes of Olympus • Trials of Apollo • Magnus Chase

Harry Potter • Marauders • Fantastic Beasts

13 Reasons Why • My Chemical Romance • A Million Little Things

Bridgerton • Locke & Key • Star Wars

#messers-moony speaks: In which I give updates about new coming imagines/stories.

#messers-moony rants: In which I rant about current events going on.

#messers-moony fics: In which I talk about new upcoming fanfics.

#messers-moony alerts: In which I need your help with something going on currently.

I do not take requests because I don’t like having to follow a certain direction.

My inbox is always open.

Comments/Reblogs/Likes are always encouraged.

Disrespectful people will be blocked.

QUALITY > QUANTITY

[prosecat]

I just finished NOS4A2 and I just want someone to talk to about it. I went to AO3 and there are only four fanfics and two are crossovers. I feel so alone.

[sherlock-is-ace]

i'm angry that there aren't many gifsets in the nos4a2 tag, it's mostly fanfic (which i don't read)

i'm even more angry at me for not having the energy right now to make gifs myself lol

[gothamstreetcat]

things i’ve been tagged in as of late (a masterpost):

I. tagged by - @avacrwder

hardcover or paperback / rent or buy / reads in silence or reads with music / standalone or series / annotations or pristine pages / ebook or physical copy / dog ears or bookmarks / mismatched series or complete set/ going to the library or taking whatever editions they have there / cover matters or you don’t judge / lend books or keep them to yourself  / enjoys lit classes or despises them / browses shops or orders online / reads reviews or goes in blind / unreturned books or clean library record / rereads or once was enough / fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon / deep reader or easily distracted / must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter / has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves / skips ahead or resists temptation / reads aloud or in your head / guesses plot twists or never sees them coming

II. tagged by - @marthaskane

describe my blog tag meme 

icon: camren bicondova wearing black lipstick with her hair tied up and in a turtleneck shirt aka the closest embodiment to me i’m going to get. i did try to recreate this photo for my blog but i suck at taking pictures of myself

content: i think when i started this blog it was a lot of spooky content and caryl content (walking dead). i am so sorry for the people who followed me for walking dead content and are still here, somehow. my blog has more or less morphed into a gotham blog and i am very happy about that. however, i will reblog any other content relating to the goth aesthetic, patrick melrose, good omens, and whatever holds my interest for more then five seconds

letter color: white

url: gothamstreetcat

header: an edit i did featuring batcat in an old catwoman comic no one can seem to stand

blog title: ‘bruce wayne die-hard’ I saw the word ‘die-hard’ once and decided i was going to use it

III. tagged by - @harlee-n & @lgbtrogues

Rules: tag 8 people you’d like to get to know better!

favorite colors: mostly black but i do like other colors in certain circumstances 

last song I listened to: yesterday when i wrote this my playlist landed on taylor swift’s ‘peace’ and i’m sticking with it! but i’ve been listening to a lot of her last two albums these last couple days. particularly; london boy, cornelia street, illicit affairs, and i forgot that you existed 

favorite musicians: i don’t think this answers the questions but i really like rock and roll and usually listen to the same bands and whatnot constantly. it’s shameful 

last film I watched: fantasy island and it honestly wasn’t that good

last tv show I watched: degrassi 

favorite character: do you want to see how many times i can type bruce wayne’s name onto this post? selina kyle is also top tier for me. lucious fox and alfred are both criminally underrated. death from sandman, crowley from good omens, joel miller from the last of us, lara croft from tomb raider. i love bridgit pike, harley quinn, poison ivy and jason todd because he needs more love then fans give him + probably a dozen or so other character’s i’m forgetting

sweet, spicy or savoury: savoury and sweet

sparkling water, tea or coffee: coffee first and foremost, sparkling water second (i like polar the best) and (iced) tea last

pets: i have a cat named isis (from batman tas) and a dog named coco

IV. tagged by - @avacrwder

rules: tag some people you want to get to know better

ships: mostly batcat 

last song: betty by taylor swift 

last movie: answered above

currently reading: not really anything right now

currently watching: right now i’ve been replaying the last of time in my free time

V. tagged by @avacrwder

top ten favs (i suck at top ten anything since there is very little that sticks with me and I ‘love’)

MOVIES:

it chaper one (2017)

birds of prey (2020)

joker (2019)

aquamarine (2006)

13 going on 30 (2004)

the rocky horror picture show (1975)

Holloweentown (1998)

it (1990)

spiderman into the spider-verse (2018)

spiderman (2002)

BOOKS: (i don’t even read books like that anymore but i’m also putting books i have on my audible)

good omens - neil gaiman & terry pratchett

between the devil and the deep blue sea - april genevieve tucholke

patrick melrose - edward st. aubyn

nos4a2 - joe hill

it - stephen king

miss peregrine’s home for peculiar children - ranson riggs

the perks of being a wallflower - stephen chbosky

ellen hopkins YA novels

perfect- natasha friend 

milk and honey - rupi kaur

MUSIC:

daughter

elana tonra

dilly dally

ac/dc

halestorm

hayley williams 

taylor swift (i’m putting taylor on this list because even though i don’t listen to her as hardcore as others, i genuinely do think she is very naturally talented)

ozzy osbourne

shunkan

the cure

TOP TEN (CURRENT) (TAYLOR SWIFT) SONGS: (since that’s all i’ve been listening to the last couple days)

peace 

my tears ricochet

illicit affairs

seven

paper rings

london boy

i forgot that you existed

daylight

cornelia street

the man

TV SHOWS:

gotham

jenna marbles (youtube)

pennyworth

good omens

degrassi 

the harley quinn show

birds of prey (2000)

touch

desperate housewives 

batman the animated series

(+ BONUS) VIDEO GAMES:

the last of us

the last of us part II

life is strange

life is strange II

the tomb raider franchise 

particularly angel of darkness

elder scrolls: skyrim 

the sims 4 

alice madness returns

the batman games

VI. tagged by - @avacrwder (i am so sorry but i just copied this from the post you tagged me in)

Elements | tag

AIR

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan*  / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

* i’ve been making more of an effort to add vegan alternatives to my life. i want to go vegan completely but lately i’ve just been really down and wanna eat whatever i want. however, my favorite switch that i made was finding a vegan coffee creamer i like! it’s the silk almondmilk creamer and if bees had knees they would live wherever that creamer is made. it’s the best. 

i am so sorry for everyone who tagged me in things and didn’t may it onto this post. thank you all so much because it does mean a lot to me. i am going to tag everyone i love but please know participation is always optional. you can either do one of these, all of them, or none. i also think one of these asked for my current time, it is 10:32 in the afternoon 

tagging - @avacrwder (you know i had to tag you just one more time) @marthaskane @brvceselina @apple-grass-and-smiles @stevie-harrington @waynesmanvr @saltybatman @queergordon @keepswingin @sonyarebecchi @selinascatnip @jennasmarbles @twoheartsoneclara @drawing-cookie @harlee-n @yoko-goto @honestmrdual @clara-oswin-oswald @callmeredhood (+ anyone who wants to)

[hagazvssa]

Normally i don't do tagging games, but I guess i could use some distraction today (thanks @eldritchpopkitsch)... Hardcover or paperback / rent or buy (used ones mostly) / reads in silence or reads with music / standalone or series (mostly) / annotations or pristine pages / ebook or physical copy / dog ears or bookmarks / mismatched series or complete set / cover matters or you don’t judge / lend books or keep them to yourself / enjoys lit classes or despises them (never had them)/ browses shops or orders online (both) / reads reviews or goes in blind / unreturned books or clean library record */ rereads or once was enough (I don’t even have enough time to keep up with my to read stack🙈) / fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon (usually the books I read aren’t popular enough to have fanfics) / deep reader or easily distracted (back in the days when i could stay in a comfortable reading position for long enough) / must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter (if I like the book, I usually hate the movie anyway – therefore I don’t even bother with it most of the time; I budged on nos4a2 and regretted that one - big time😒) / has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves / skips ahead or resists temptation / reads aloud or in your head / guesses plot twists or never sees them coming

*Libraries are a another story. As I grew up pretty rural, nobody would have driven us kids to the next town just to get to a library. So we lined up every other Tuesday to wait for the library bus (is this even a thing somewhere else?). The variety was small, no one cared about what you took, so the grade schoolers usually walked out with Goosebumps AND Stephen King. Last time I was home I heard they still drive it and will till the wheels fall of and I know who will be there when the day comes and shed a little tear 🙈

[witchy-fanarchived]

I’ve been hit recently by nostalgia and remembered this really cool fanfic on a Nos4A2 fanboard that was a Mira/Nos story. Even now i still remembered it and the music video (which i believe sadly got taken down) using Facedown by Red jumpsuit Apparatus in it. The fanfic was called Shades of Red and Blue by Stellar. And I’m on a BLOSC nostalgia trip. 

[bunnylouisegrimes]

Okay so prompt for Charlie and Rosie: “please don’t shut me out”

“Charlie?” She spoke up softly.

Charlie continued to wash the dishes and face away from her, staring out into the cold and drizzly weather outside. The snow melted and turned to muddy mush. It looked more akin to late February or early March than December. How ironic for the first day of winter to melt snow rather than bring it.

“Charlie?” She tried again, stepping closer. He still ignored her. The only response she received was the ice showering down the roof from outside, the soapy water running and filling his sink, the sweet Palmolive wafting the kitchen, and Antiques Roadshow blabbing about the worth of random, old and often beautiful objects in the living room. She could understand why Charlie enjoyed that show. He liked old things. She liked old things too, hence why she got into it when he exposed it to her and why she liked him in the first place. His old fashioned and vintage appearance ignited something inside of her that drew her to him. She knew she had found her prince, her gentleman, her lover...

But if he’s all of those things, why did I treat him the way I did?

“Charlie, please talk to me...” Her voice creaked again. Warm tears filled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. Her cheeks and face felt hot from all of her crying upstairs. Her stomach and heart felt tight and heavy. She hadn’t meant to be so rude to him... she was grouchy and took it out on him...

Just like Cassie did to him... no wonder he feels this way... he put up with it already for so long from her... and I don’t normally act this way... she damaged him, so he’s hurt in a different and deeper way than most couples normally would feel in this situation... how could I be such a stupid and selfish bitch?

She tugged on his navy blue chauffeur coat, streams of tears pouring down her rosy cheeks and reflecting in the light above the sink. He paused, turned the sink off, wrung his hands, and proceeded to dry them, finally turning to look at her with a cold look, yet one could tell there was a softness to it, like he hated she was feeling this way and he hated this was even an ordeal in the first place. She looked like a child who had been scolded and sent to bed early, and the child came downstairs to apologize for their actions to their parent who was too mad to even look at them. The difference was, they were not father and daughter, but lovers. The vampire had this experience with his own daughters on the rare occasions they misbehaved, but he never had this experience with a woman. Cassie would never back down from a fight or admit she was wrong, and she would especially never look as remorseful or sad as Rose did.

“Charlie... please don’t shut me out...” she burst into tears and all at once wrapped her arms around his waist, sobbing into his fuzzy back.

Surprisingly, he pulled her close to him, and she wept into his chest now. He rested his chin on the top of her head and stroked her back. Finally, he spoke up.

“Do you think I liked yelling at you like that, Mignon?” He said sternly. “Do you think I liked making you cry like that? I didn’t want to make you cry like this. I never wanted for us to divulge into this fight and bring it to this level. I hate it when you cry. It makes me sick to my heart.”

“I hate making you cry and making you feel hurt,” she sputtered. “Especially after what she did to you... I never, as long as I live, want to ever be her. I would rather die than ever become a monster like her and hurt you. I should’ve considered your feelings and how she made you feel, and how that in turn makes you feel and what feelings it brings back on top of that. Please, baby, I love you so much and I’d never hurt you intentionally like she did. I worship the ground you walk on, and I... I’m so sorry, okay? Please, forgive me. I was acting like a grouchy brat, you came home, I thought you were being a dick to me, you actually weren’t, and it got out of hand. Please...” She wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with the sleeves of her nightgown.

He sighed through his nose and kissed her on her warm, wet cheek. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you and made you cry too. I’d never want to hurt you intentionally either. I will always love you, even when I’m hurt and furious with you. That’s why if you ever became just like Cassie or if you cheated on me... I would be destroyed. I forgive you and understand. Let’s move past this. I feel better now that we’ve made up and I’ve had time to deal with my feelings alone.”

She smiled and buried her face in his embrace. “I feel better now that we’ve made up too and we could talk again. I should be more sensitive of your feelings, I always really try to be because it’s the right thing to do, but especially since you’ve been hurt in a way years ago that you really shouldn’t experience ever again. You’ve been through that pain enough. You’re like a brave soldier who’s been through so many wars, and he doesn’t need to fight again because if he did, it could damage him in a way that would be catastrophic. You’re strong, Charlie, and you’re really brave. You deserve every good thing that could ever come to you, not the same horrible shit, but on a different day. I don’t want to be your mom or Cassie.”

“Oh, Rosie...” He kisssed her forehead. “You could never be Cassie, or my mother... don’t you ever think of yourself that way. I know in my heart you’re not. Let’s just move past this, okay? Let’s snuggle on the couch, watch people show us their beautiful objects, drink some eggnog, and eat some cookies.”

She giggled as he picked her up and carried her into the living room.

“I love you, Charlie-Chip.”

“I love you too, Rosie-Posie.”

[arwen17]

Most outrageous thing you would have done with the story?

Just interested in hearing everyone’s different ideas.

What are your best ideas you would have wanted (or would have changed) for the past seasons or in any future season?

My favorite two ideas:

1. Charlie CAN turn adults if he wants to and he tries to turn Vic into his perfect Vampire Bride/Mother Xmas and her friends have to try to rescue her from that. *turns the dial on Stockholm syndrome up and sits back to enjoy those warm Xmas morning feels*

2. Charlie comes back in Season 3 by possessing and influencing Vic to act as Mother Xmas and she slowly loses more of her sanity thru this process. Her friends try to help. Millie and Wayne are the “anti-help” and only pull Vic deeper into trouble.

[cherry-moonlight]

Life Could Be A Dream

{NOS4A2 - Charlie Manx x Reader}

{A/N - Also on AO3 under CherryMoonlight}  Hi! I have been obsessed with NOS4A2, and while I haven’t read the book yet (don’t judge me), the show is incredible. I haven’t written anything in a year or so, and I know I owe plenty of other stories, but this series came to me in a dream and I’m just so happy to be off hiatus and inspired again! That being said, this is a first person POV reader insert, and pretty much just not very canon but I’m having fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it should you choose to!  PS — I’m crushing hard on Charlie Manx so definitely expect some of that at some point. (I know, how dare I considering the whole virgin thing- but really, how could I not?!)

Warnings: Abusive parents (verbal, physical, emotional), alcoholism, drug use.

Chapter One - Long Overdue

Snowflakes fell like ashes from the sky as I walked forward down a snowy road I’d seen many times before. Despite the chill in the air, my skin didn’t react to the bitter coldness. I wasn’t bothered by the gentle wind or the glistening ice. It was as though the cold could touch me, but I couldn’t feel it.

Deep green pine trees doused with pure white lined the road as far as the eye could see in every direction but up and down. My eyes searched for something— anything, that could tell me what was happening; why I kept being brought to this particular place. There had to be some kind of sign.. Some kind of message I was to receive. Everything had a reason in my mind, bad or good, and this dream was no exception.

Much further down the road, there were glittering lights that danced in a blurred haze on the horizon. But no matter how far or how long I walked, they never grew closer.

“{Y/N}!” I heard what sounded like a small child’s excited whisper, as though they were taunting me, rather than calling out to me.

This is new..

I turned around immediately, looking for the source of the disembodied voice as a slight pang of panic rose in my chest. Though I wasn’t sure what was happening, the fear began to manifest anyway, giving me some kind of indication that this might become a nightmare.

A faint giggle echoed from the other direction, and I turned to face it, too. With a shake of my head and a moment to steady my breathing, I reminded myself that I was in control..

Or was I?

I picked up the pace to a brisk walk, not wanting to will myself awake just yet. The lights ahead of me stayed exactly where they were, but the sweet scent of peppermint mixing with pine began to fill my nostrils. It was pleasant, almost addicting right from the first whiff.

Still, I lowered my eyes to the ground, almost afraid of what I might see if I looked around so carelessly.

Another reverberated giggle filled the air, but this time it was accompanied by my name again. When I looked up from the white ground beneath my feet, I saw a small figure dash across the road. Just beyond that, the lights in the distance began to grow clearer before me.

“I can see..” I mumbled under my breath a bit too happily as I began to run, not wanting to miss the opportunity to finally find out what was beyond the long road.

My hair whipped around my face, and I knew if I could feel the air around me, it would’ve stung my skin. My breath formed small white clouds around my mouth as I continued, and just when I thought I could make out what lay in front of me, I was grabbed by small hands from behind, the excruciating pain of a sharp bite digging into the back of my shoulder, until—

I jolted awake, sitting upright as my {E/C} eyes pried themselves open to absorb where I actually was. Everything felt foggy, and as I clutched the shirt I wore with a trembling hand, I tried my best to ground myself.

A record I had on a turntable spun in what seemed like endless circles at the end of the track list and everything was quiet, save for the static. Looking out towards the frosty window, the ice climbing around the edges like spiderwebs offered me a sense of comfort. The world was cold, but inside, everything was warm and cozy. I was safe, and this was only a dream I’d been having for years— even if a few things had suddenly changed.

I stood up, working on slowing my breathing as I lifted the needle from the record and set it in its place, turning the player off. My mind roamed back to the dream I’d just had. It was strange that out of all the time it plagued my sleep, something had finally been different. It felt stranger than usual as I mulled over the way I heard children and saw the lights come a bit more into focus this time. There was something about it that I couldn’t quite place. It reminded me of the holidays— my favorite time of year despite the way I grew up. Christmas was my favorite holiday, always allowing me to get lost in everyone else’s joy and excitement. Watching heartwarming films and seeing the way the community came together to decorate their homes.. It reminded me of what being a child should’ve felt like, even though there was never any indication that Christmas even existed in my house. For as long as I could remember, not a tree, nor a present ever graced my December’s.

As I moved to the vanity to fix my appearance, I came to the conclusion that I was just excited for Christmas’s arrival, and my dream was a reflection of that. This year, I wanted to buy a small tree for my room and decorate it the way I wanted. I was an adult now, and no one could tell me any different.

“{Y/N}!” I heard my mother scream from downstairs, eliciting an automatic eye roll from me. “Come down here, now!”

With a huff, I did as I was told, despite being eighteen, I still lived under her roof and had to abide by her insane rules.

My mother and I never quite got along. As a child, she consoled herself with prescription pills and alcohol, and I never really had a father. My older brother split with him the moment he walked out of the door when I was seven, which is when my only recollection of Christmas’s ended, leaving them like a far too distant memory to me.

My dad never bothered to take me with him, or even call me afterwards. Neither did my brother. I didn’t know what I did wrong, but as time moved on, I realized they’d simply abandoned me with her. I supposed that they assumed I’d end up the same way. Not able to blame them, I never bothered to reach out, either. I had my dad’s number, I stole it from a sticky note my mom had gotten from one of their mutual friends. But if they wanted to contact me, they would. Sometimes, when my mom had locked me in the closet for “being too happy,” or hit me for answering a question in a way she didn’t like, I really wished they would’ve.

Since then, I’ve had to learn to take care of myself. When she was passed out on the floor for what felt like days on end, I was in charge of things like food and getting myself to school. The microwave was my best friend early on, and unlike most other kids, I was glad I had school to escape to.

I’d never quite forgiven her for ruining my childhood. Sometimes, I’d see the other kids getting picked up by their parents; the care in their eyes, the love in their hearts. It was all very comforting to watch. I cried myself to sleep countless nights wondering why I couldn’t have parents who cared for me the same way.

When my mother was awake, it was constant belittling and berating. Being so young, I had no idea I could be such a mistake and a screw up so soon, if at all. But there was dear old mom, ready to remind me at a moment's notice. Something as simple as dropping a pencil on the floor earned me an ear full of being a klutz and completely worthless to the world. If I even looked at her in a way she didn’t like, I felt her wrath.

But as time went on, she gradually got worse. She built up more of a tolerance to whatever she was taking, making her perfectly functional to the rest of society, but twice as abusive to me. No matter how old I got, I remained the punching bag. I’d thought she took out the anger of losing my father and brother on me, but later I couldn’t help but think it felt like she just liked hurting me.

Before I exited my room, I looked at a small cedar chest with a heart shaped lock that sat atop my dresser. It was my saving grace these days, the only thing that kept me sane. It held money I’d been putting away to get my own place, and a few other things that were important to me, like the note with my dad’s number and a small locket I had been gifted as a child.

Soon. Soon I’d never have to hear her voice or see her face again.

My feet shuffled to the bottom of the stairs and I inhaled and counted to four, then exhaled and counted to four; a small tactic that I used to deal with her. Turning the corner into the kitchen, I saw her sitting at the wooden table, glass of whatever the day's poison was in hand, waiting for me with a crisp white sheet of paper in front of her.

“What is this?” she questioned, the annoyance thick in her voice already.

I peeked over her shoulder. It was paperwork from a therapy session a friend let me take from her almost a year ago. I hadn’t wanted to do it, but she insisted once I explained just a portion of my life to her.

“You went through my things?” Was all I could manage.

I was bubbling with anger, but trying my best not to fly off the handle.

She wasn’t worth it, I reminded myself.

“You went to therapy? After all I’ve done for you, you felt like you needed… Help?”

She spat the word “help” out as though it were venom on the tongue. I was still processing the fact that she felt as though she’d raised me well, or really even at all. How dare she think she was there for me at all.

“Well? Answer me, {Y/N}!”

Lost for words, I stammered a bit, unsure of what to say. The last thing I felt like doing was fighting with her, and in that moment, I had no idea where to begin to tell her off.

“I— Just.. There’s—“

“I know you’ve always been a little slow,” she snorted. “But you can’t even answer a question these days..”

“That’s it! I’m sick of you! How dare you—” I snapped, but before I even had time to finish another thought, she was up from the chair and her hand had roughly connected with my cheek.

Stunned from the stinging sensation, I stared at her blankly. Though it used to be a daily occurrence, it had been a long time since she’d hit me, and the act only dredged up memories that I thought I’d gotten over. I shook my head, and without another word, I went upstairs, slipped into my favorite combat boots, grabbed a jacket and my bag and placed my cedar chest in it before making my way to the front door in a rushed cloud of hurt and anger.

“If you walk out of this house, you’re not coming back! I’ll leave your shit on the curb and I’ll never see your ungrateful ass again!” she called out, her voice hoarse with crazed, manic emotion.

“I wouldn’t come back if this were the last place on earth,” was all I said, opening the door to leave.

I heard the rattling of a pill bottle being frantically emptied and breathed a quiet laugh of disbelief before slamming the door shut. There was no care to be had in my mind or heart anymore. Maybe it was wrong, but I had taken too much from that woman. I was done sticking around and pretending to care in the hopes that she’d change one day.

Looking out ahead of me for a moment, I slid into my jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder. Closing the door with the intention of never looking back should’ve been the best day of my life. Instead, I felt anxious beyond belief.

Leaving with no plan as to where I was going wasn’t how I wanted to end things. I’d managed to stick around for eighteen years, and almost felt silly for letting this small encounter become the straw that broke the camel's back.

At the same time, eighteen years is a long time to go on the way I did. It was overdue.

As I walked into the snow, I realized how alone I truly was. No parents, no siblings. No family. I couldn’t burden my friends to deal with the mess my life had become. I lived in what could be considered the middle of nowhere. It was freezing and I had nowhere to go. I raised myself for so long, I didn’t know if I was actually expecting to be able to take care of myself in a situation like this or not, should it happen. But as I reached the end of my driveway and looked down the road, I was reminded of my recurring dream. It looked the same— the trees and the glistening snow atop them. The only thing missing was the dazzling lights at the end of the stretch. How I never put it together that this scenery was near identical before, I wasn’t sure.

It was then that I wondered if this is what my dream had been trying to tell me all along..

That I’d be walking a cold, lonely road to nowhere.