#only murders au

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

[electrozeistyking]

"She's Gone"

This bad boy was started on the third of November, and finished on the seventh. In total, there are thirty panels (all of which were drawn separately).

A good chunk of N's dialogue near the end came to me after I did some improv to figure out what he should say. I have since dubbed it "N's Failure Monologue."

[zecoritheweirdone]

wanna preface this by saying that i am. So normal. anyway i just spent the last week redrawing scenes from mystery skulls animated but as that hermitcraft au i posted about a couple times. you guys should watch msa it is. so so good.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

R̸̜̈́u̵̟͘t̶̺̓ḧ̵͇l̷̟̋ē̶̘s̵̨̎s̵̩͒ṋ̵̋e̵͙̐s̵̡̈́ś̸͙

Get in the Water prompt Storm alternate version Animatic Fanart

There was a spell, Constantine had explained after his own trip to the afterlife. Something to contain Danyal's soul long enough to resolve his unfinished business, to keep him still and away from the influences of his fellow dead. And if that didn't work, Constantine continued, then there were ways to force a spirit to rest. It was better for a ghost to move on by themselves, but if there was no other choice...

Damian hoped Danyal would choose to rest on his own. That he'd let him explain, finally.

Danyal had been weak. Strong in a fight, but too weak to kill, and that infuriated Damian. But he was scared more than he was angry. Because that weakness would get Danyal killed, could get Damian killed, could get the League killed. Even the newest recruits had a stronger desire to kill than Danyal.

He was the weakest link in the chain. And while their mother had taught them to be ruthless, Danyal had remained limp with mercy.

They needed Danyal's body. It would be Danyal's tie to the earth, Constantine explained as he joined them on the Batplane. The souls of the dead don't often linger on the mortal plain. The magician had speculated that the only reason Danyal had managed to manifest in the waters below Gotham was because of Damian's presence, but his remains would keep him stable this side of life for however long it took to heal his soul.

But was that even possible?

"I don't know, kid," Constantine admitted during the plane ride. "Wish I had a better answer for you, but... Your brother is a siren now. And from the sound of it? He really wants you dead."

"Then why didn't he kill me?" Damian argued. "He had hours to do it... or minutes..." The time he spent in that green world felt longer than the ten minutes Father couldn't find him, but... "He had me in his grasp and let me go. Doesn't that mean he didn't want to-"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Playing with your food?'" Constantine asked instead. "Sirens aren't known for letting their prey go. If we're out here, its because he wants us here."

They--Damian, Father, Constantine, Grayson, and Todd--landed in Nanda Parbat after a few hours. There was a crypt inside for members of the Al Ghul family who didn't use the Lazarus Pits. It was there Danyal's body was entombed. They would have to steal it.

And it was unfortunate that Constantine got them caught within five minutes of entry.

Damian glared daggers at the man as they were led towards the Lazarus Pit. Constantine shrugged. "What? I don't want assassins chasing after me because of some light grave robbing! Besides, we need to explain the situation anyway-"

"And what, precisely, needs to be explained?" asked a woman from inside the chamber. The heroes were pushed inside, only to see Talia Al Ghul standing where her father should have been. The Lazarus Pit hissed and boiled behind her, casing the cave in a ghoulish light.

Damian could hear laughing.

Father stepped forward. "Talia. Where's Ra's?" Grandfather was the biggest threat to their plan succeeding.

Mother... looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I do not know. At the present moment... the Demon Head is missing."

You could hear a pin drop. "What do you mean?" Father demanded.

"It's as I said; he is missing. Yesterday, he was alone in the Pit, and hours later, no one could find him." She glanced behind her, at the waters, before looking back at them. "I had assumed he'd left to care for the League's interests. Now-" She tilted her chin up, looking down at them. "What exactly do you need to explain? What is so important that you break into my home to tell me?"

Stepping forward, Constantine explained. Mother looked grim as he spoke of Danyal, but did not interrupt. "We want to put his soul to rest. But for that, we need access to his body-"

"You dare ask for such a thing?" Mother snarled. "As if I even believe you. My son would never-"

"Your son?" Grayson snapped. "From the looks of it, you didn't care for either of your children!"

As the group descended into an argument, Damian heard laughter again, Danyal's high pitched giggle harmonizing with something deep and bone shaking. The Lazarus Pits loomed over him, beckoning him, whispering. Damian took a step towards it as his mother said, "I don't even have his body!"

"What?" Damian snapped at his mother, focusing back on the conversation. "But the crypts-"

"After your brother's murder, the Demon Head ordered for the culprit to be found. But they were never discovered." Because the culprit was Damian, he knew, and no one else ever learned about it. "I wanted to place him in the Pits immediately, but I was ordered to stay my hand until the murderer was caught. But..."

"He never was," Damian finished for her. "And then you put Danyal into the waters?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes. "And he never came back out. Even if it was too late, he'd still come back as the undead, but he never rose from the waters."

"Then this is entirely my fault."

"Finally," Danyal whispered in his ear, breath chilling his skin.

Damian did his best to ignore it. Danyal was haunting him. Danyal needed to be put to rest. If they couldn't do it Constantine's way, then they had to put him to rest another way.

Grayson looked troubled. "Robin, it's not your fault-"

"I'm the one who killed him," Damian confessed. Everyone stared at him. Grayson, horrified; Mother, blank; Father, betrayed. Damian continued, "I overheard you and Grandfather arranging a fight to the death, and I knew who would win. I couldn't... I couldn't allow Danyal to die without the Al Ghul name, in disgrace as the one who wasn't good enough. So I killed him, assassinated him, and now he's haunting me for revenge." Damian looked at the Pit. "So go ahead, Danyal."

"Damian, what are you saying?"

"Danyal wants revenge on the person who killed him; I'm giving it to him." Todd was staring at him. Damian might not be able to see past his helmet, but he could feel the respect coming off the man. "Danyal, I know you're here. Please come out." If he focused long enough, he could just making out wheezing breaths. "I can hear you, please-"

Father grabbed Damian by the shoulders. "Damian, listen to what you're saying! You're offering your life up for nothing!"

"B's right." Grayson placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's got to be another way. You don't have to do this!"

"Yes I do!" Damian ripped himself out of Nightwing's grip. "I'm the one who killed him! I'm the one at fault! My brother is suffering because of me, I have to save him-"

Stepping between them all, Mother slapped him across the face.

And the Pit's whispers fell silent.

Damian stared up at his mother, cheek throbbing with pain. She glared back. "Cease this behavior at once," she snapped. "There's no need to get so worked up over a ghost, of all thing-"

"T̴̯̃al̵̬͂ị̴̿a̵̮̕ ̵̼͐A̴̗̕l̷͈̆ ̴͚̓G̵͎̀h̷̻͒u̶̜͋l̴͍̀."

This time, everyone could hear Danyal's voice, filled with static and corrupted. Damian swallowed as his dead brother continued,

"D̸͕͠o̶̪̅ ̸͍̆ỹ̵̗ö̸̲ũ̸̧ ̶͖̚k̶̻͊ņ̸͐o̸̹̚ẘ̸̙w̷̛̹ḧ̸͚́o̷͉̅ ̵͈̑I̶̪̽ á̵̞m̶͙̂?̸̻͂"

The cavern shook as the Lazarus Pit bucked, a wave forming in the absolute center of the water. The wave rose, pillaring up above their head and brushing the ceiling. A cold wind rushed through the room and blew out the torches on the walls, leaving only embers and the occasional florescent behind. Damian braced himself for the waters to rush out and flood.

Instead, the water fell back into the pit, like it had never risen in the first place, leaving behind a lone figure in its wake.

"Danyal," Mother whispered.

And the dead boy glared back at her with pure contempt.

[seraphont]

a comic wipwop

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[omaano]

It's his day to join the Hades AU! Happy Cody Day!!

""This weapon is your life" is what my general often said to lecture his old padawan during the war, and yet he constantly lost his. The lightsaber and his cloak... The things might be cursed. Not as much as yours, though." "Please keep that thing far away from my kid."

Rex from down the hall: "Stop trolling the shiny as a way to cope, Cody!"

Cody: "I have nothing to cope with, this is just for fun. The Darksaber is definitely cursed and you know it."

Rex: "Oh yeah, it definitely is. Sorry kid."

Din is still trying to figure out how he counts as a "shiny" here

Backgrounds, as per usual, are screenshots from my latest attempts at a run in the Hades game. All I can do is add more pocket characters, I'm not gonna redraw the whole set TT^TT (but look, Din is holding a handful of green and brown pixels now!)

[swiftmitsu]

tiny bitty gift for fellow Kist enjoyers out there 🙏🙏

mainly for @sunnymainecoonx

[miguxadraws]

some killer looks id say

comedy horror au by: @spitinsideme

[echoing-death]

Poor Nightmare. There's too much positivity in his life~ Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer! Sans belongs to RahafWabas Dust! Sans (Murder! Sans) belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror! Sans belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Farm! Sans belongs to GuinongTale_AU

[absurdumsid]

GOOD MRONNING SILLY LITTLE CREATURES

dust is probably saying something like "you JUST got back! you should rest!"

Horror! Sans belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Fell! Sans belongs to Fella/Vic Murder! Sans belongs to ask-dusttale

[elizakai]

horrordust nation where you at (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[electrozeistyking]

n has a sensitive neck: the headcanon, now revealed to the world. anyway, some extras.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

the longest damn late night phone call from heaven EVER

aka, Emily has a slightly gruesome favor to ask, Charlie's determined to be good and helpful friend, and Vaggie was only half-right about people not recognizing her without her exorcist mask

Charlie: “…not exactly what I expected, when dad said heaven wanted another chat.”

Emily: “I know, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to bother you at home-”

Charlie: “It’s fine. Kinda late for a video call but, hold on.” (slips into hallway) (quietly shuts bedroom door) “It’s important right?”

Emily: “It’s… it’s important to me.”

Charlie: “Well that counts! What’s up? Uh, aside from literally you, anyway.”

Emily: “Before that, is your girlfriend- is Vaggie okay?”

Charlie: “She’s.”

Charlie: “……”

Charlie: “…fine.”

Emily: “There were a lot of bandages.”

Charlie: “Oh. Those.”

Emily: “I wasn’t trying to look, but when you were going past of bed, I just. I’ve never seen one of us like-”

Charlie: “Um I don’t think she’d really like the ‘one of us’ part. Just a heads up.”

Emily: “I’ll remember. Will they heal? Lute’s arm already has, and she said angelic steel is what- what killed that first Exorcist-”

Charlie: “Some of them- Some of them will heal, Vaggie says.”

Emily: “And the others?”

Charlie: “They’ll… probably be like her eye, I guess. The bleeding will stop.”

Emily: “Her eye-?”

Charlie: “Did you know Lute gouged it out with a sword? Right before leaving her in hell?”

Emily: “She- No! Why would she-”

Charlie: “So you didn’t know what Vaggie was when you saw her. You didn’t know what Lute and Adam did to her-”

Emily: “Charlie I SWEAR I had no idea. The Exorcists- other than Lute they keep those masks on almost all time, even up here! I could have walked past Vaggie a hundred times without knowing it!”

Charlie: “….that’s what she said too.”

Emily: “Vaggie?”

Charlie: “Mm.”

Emily: “Why ask me then? She told you and you trust her… right?”

Charlie: “It’s, complicated. And not the point.”

Emily: “Are you two okay-”

Charlie: “Not the point. What can I help heaven with tonight? I’d, kinda like to get back to bed before she wakes up.”

Emily: “Sorry, of course, I just don’t want you two to have more trouble…” (sighs) “…but I guess I’m not the right person to help am I. Not with, all this.”

Charlie: “I don’t blame you for what Lute and Adam did. Or for Sera letting them do it.”

Emily: “It still makes being friends hard, doesn’t it?”

Charlie: “…a little.”

Emily: “I’m-”

Charlie: “But! I’m not gonna let them stop us from doing it.” (determined) “Screw heaven- I wouldn’t have answered the phone if it’d been anyone other than you calling from up there anyway! Well, you or Sir Pentious.”

Emily: “I’m so, SO glad he made it here. ”

Charlie: “Me too.” (smiles) “You need help with something? Tell me. If I can do anything about it, I will.”  

Emily: “Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just… a question.”

Charlie: “Okay?”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “…I’m a little scared to ask.”

Charlie: “That’s okay! I know the feeling! If it helps, I promise I won’t get angry or annoyed just over you asking something!”

Emily: “Thanks. That’s. Not really what I’m scared of.”

Charlie: “Well what parts the scary part?”

Emily: “The answer.”

Charlie: “...huh.”

Emily: “I’m not sure I want to hear it, honestly.”

Charlie: “But you called in the middle of the night so you could ask?”

Emily: “Yes.”

Charlie: “So you DO want to know.”

Emily: “It feels more like I have to know.”

Charlie: “Okay…. uhh. What… kind of question is it?”

Emily: “The battle. The, dead Exorcists.”

Charlie: “Oh fuck. Shoot- Is it about the bodies? Because I’m REALLY sorry again about letting the cannibals uh, eat them. I’d kinda. I’d promised them- the cannibals I mean- and, um. They lost a lot of friends too so-”

Emily: “No that’s fine. It’s, it doesn’t matter much once they’re dead does it. S-someone should get to be happy about the fresh. Um. Meat.”

Charlie: “Ssssstillll, I wish I could’ve sent them back-”

Emily: “Did you see-?”

Charlie: “-whoops sorry, go ahead.”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “Ah-hem. Go ahead?”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “Aaaaany time now…”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “….Look, Emily-”

Emily: “I know I’m sorry I-”

Charlie: “No no! I really wish I had all night for this. Really! I wanna be the friend who sits up until four in morning talking- and any other time I would be!”

Emily: “I know.”

Charlie: “Only I also really, really don’t want Vaggie waking up alone tonight. Not after we, after I- I can’t do that to her right now, okay?”

Emily: “…yes. Okay.”

Charlie: “How about this- you call back in the morning, we settle in and-”

Emily: “Did you see an Exorcist that didn’t fit in?”

Charlie: “-uhhh, what?”

Emily: “An Exorcist.”

Charlie: “I mean, yes? There were dozens! Pretty hard to keep count when you’re fighting for you-”

Emily: “But was there one that didn’t fit in?”

Charlie: “Fit in what where- oh ugh Angel Dust get OUT of my head-”

Emily: “With the others. The other Exorcists. Was there one in the fight that, didn’t quite look right? Caught your eye for some reason?”

Charlie: “Don’t they all kinda look the same?”

Emily: “Yes. Mostly.”

Charlie: “Bloodstained uniform, horned mask, weird crossed out eye and stitched mouth aesthetic thing, scary black and white wings-”

Emily: “Did the cannibals eat the wings?”

Charlie: “The w-”

Emily: “The wings of the dead Exorcists. Did they eat-”

Charlie: “Emily- those are feathers. The cannibals ate the meaty parts sure, but-”

Emily: “So you could still check. If. If any of the Exorcists who died. If they had strange wings.”

Charlie: “I guess, I-”

Emily: “Charlie. I need you to check.”

Charlie: “What-”

Emily: “I just need to know-”

Charlie: “But-”

Emily: “-please-”

Charlie: “Hey it’s okay, I’ll check! I’ll check first thing tomorrow!”

Emily: “Promise?”

Charlie: “Of course! It’ll be easy, don’t worry! Vaggie saved the wings from all of them. I’m not sure what for- some kind of funeral I think- or target practice- funerary target practice? Is that an angel thing…?”

Emily: “We don’t….really have those in Heaven. Funerals.”

Charlie: “Oh. Right.”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Must be nice.”

Emily: “I’m sorry.”

Charlie: “No- that came out wrong. Forget it! So the wing thing is just a Vaggie thing or something. Anyway. Checking the wings. Nooooo problem. CAN do.”

Emily: “Thank you. And. And you’ll just tell me about it? Not anyone else in heaven?”

Charlie: “Sure! Is it a secret?”

Emily: “No.”

Charlie: “Buuuut you don’t want Sera finding out.”

Emily: “I’ll tell her later. When I’m… Once I’ve…”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “Oh Emily hey- it’s okay! Shh, it’s okay!!”

Emily: “I don’t know if it is.” (voice breaking) “Sera won’t let me near the Exorcists and Lute won’t answer any questions about them- I don’t know who else to ask or if I really want to know, but I can’t sleep, and if she didn’t die down there then I NEED to find her somehow and ask her HOW she could’ve been doing this! Murdering people, killing souls-”

Charlie: “Whoa wait, ask who? What am I even checking the Exorcist wings for?”

Charlie: “… Who…who are you looking for?”

Emily: “I don’t know her name. We never met.”

Charlie: “You seem to really care about her, for someone you’ve never met.”

Emily: “Because she was DIFFERENT! She-”

Emily: (looks away)

Emily: “…she’s part of why I never questioned the Exorcists. She. I thought she was proof that underneath masks, they meant well. That they were strict and distant but also protectors, and they cared, and…”

Charlie: “…and now you know what she was doing the whole time.”

Emily: “She CAN’T have been. You shouldn’t be able to be so kind and gentle and still-”

Charlie: “People can be a lot of different things, to different people.”

Emily: “How?”

Charlie: “That’s just… what makes people, people, I think. We can all do things we never thought we’d do.”

Emily: “Exorcists kill children don’t they. Child sinners- they don’t spare them, do they?”

Charlie: “They don’t really DO the whole ‘sparing’ thing. Not in the Pride Ring. Only my dad’s family is safe from exterminations- or was safe. Kids… if they don’t have anyone, or if their families can’t keep them safe, then…” (shudders) “…yeah. I’ve. I found the bodies a few times.”

Emily: “How… how can they-”

Charlie: “I don’t know.” (tired) (slumping back against the door) “They just do.”

Emily: “She can’t have done that! That’s the ONE thing I know about her- she LOVED children. Falling in line and being a good Exorcist didn’t matter as soon as a child needed her!”

Charlie: “Well- well maybe she wasn’t one of the ones who… hurt kids. Maybe she didn’t do that.”

Emily: “But she must have seen it happening. Known it happened. And she didn’t stop it.”

Charlie: (wince) “T- tell me about her? The parts you saw up in heaven, her being nice to those kids- that happened too! What was she like?”

Emily: “…watchful.”

Charlie: “A guardian angel huh?” (smiles weakly) “I think I know the type.”

Emily: “She should’ve been that. She shouldn’t have-” (sighs) “…Exorcists keep to themselves, up in heaven.”

Charlie: (grits teeth) “If they’re mostly all like Lute then that’s probably the only way to keep heaven a nice place.”

Emily: “Lute isn’t… well I guess I don’t really know her either. I always thought she was just paranoid, busy being overprepared, scared for heaven and channeling it into anger…. maybe she is that? Maybe she just-”

Charlie: “She tried stabbing out Vaggie’s other eye.”

Emily: “….”

Emily: “A lot of things make sense now, knowing what she and Adam were doing.”

Charlie: “Like keeping the Exorcists separate?”

Emily: “That, and the identical uniforms, the masks… the constant, BRUTAL training and practice.”

Charlie: “Building trust in a warzone….”

Emily: “What?”

Charlie: “Nothing- How did any of them get near a kid, if that’s what it’s like?”

Emily: “They didn’t. It was an accident.”

Charlie: “Now THAT’S depressing.”

Emily: “I guess so..”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “So. What happened?”

Emily: “Oh… some children were testing their wings. Just out having fun, you know. A few flew out of sight- their friends tried looking for them, but there are parts of heaven not everyone can always reach.”

Charlie: “There is? Why-”

Emily: “Heaven’s supposed to be a peaceful, happy place. An eternity of rest and recovery- It’s supposed to be safe. To be safe, Sera always said the Exorcists needed to be ready to defend it, and they needed space to not always be happy or peaceful.”

Charlie: “They always seemed pretty happy about not being peaceful, not gonna lie.”

Emily: “They get really into training with each other- but do you mean, even during the exterminations-?”

Charlie: “ESPECIALLY then.”

Emily: (frustrated) “I wish things would stop making so much sense!”

Charlie: “Same.”

Emily: “It was right there all along, and I didn’t see it!”

Charlie: “I mean, they really didn’t want you to.”

Emily: “And how many people are dead because of that?”

Charlie: “It’s not your fault… And it’s not all bad.” (weak chuckle) “Vaggie likes it better down here. The one upside to finding out old secrets is how it can make things better- she makes much more sense now too.”

Emily: “In good ways?”

Charlie: “In… in kinda silly, kinda sad ways.”  

Emily: “Silly is good.”

Charlie: “Yeah…”

Emily: “Sorry. I won’t pry. I’m just listening- passively- if you want.”

Charlie: "It’s nothing super personal or secret, just that, I get why she likes high places and open spaces when she needs thinking time. Not like the view’s amazingly great down here, so I always wondered… All those times finding her on roof tops or the hotel’s crow’s nest."

Charlie: "I asked if staring at heaven's light was a moth demon thing once and she just shrugged, but the angel thing makes so much more sense and she's terrible at lying if I'd just ASKED-”

Emily: "Now you're sounding like me."

Charlie: "URGH right- good things, good things are- when she's up there, I know now she's either cursing heaven or hating herself."

Emily: "... is there a better good thing? Because that's..."

Charlie: "Now I can HELP her. With that."

Emily: "That's a good thing, yes."

Charlie: "She doesn't have to walk around all the time being scared of me finding out and getting angry or hurt, I DID find out and I WAS angry and and hurt, and it was fine."

Emily: "Well..."

Charlie: "Okay fine, not fine but BETTR. It IS better."

Emily: "..."

Emily: “...your hotel has a crow’s nest? That must be perfect for her.”

Charlie: “What? Oh, yes. She loves it...”

Charlie: "Shit even her HAIR makes so much sense now."

Emily: “She’s grown hers out- I’ve never thought about an Exorcist with long hair- it’s very pretty.”

Charlie: “Pretty, fun to play with, but she leaves it loose even when all the swooshing annoys her. It gets in the way of her trying to stab people."

Emily: "I bet we could find a metaphor in that."

Charlie: "I guess it’s kinda like wings though? The weight and having something cover her back like that.”

Emily: “Wings are… not just that. Wings are pretty different.”

Charlie: “Long hair was probably still better than nothing though. I wonder if she’ll cut it now? Or just keep it in the ponytail?”

Emily: “What do you mean?”

Charlie: "Well, short hair is easier to take care of, right? Plus she seemed to really like having it out of her face during the battle, even after getting her wings back-”

Emily: “No, wait- Getting them back? She’s an angel, doesn’t she have- hasn’t she always had….”

Charlie: “No she… They didn’t mention that either, did they.”

Emily: “What did they do.”

Charlie: “One guess. And one guess who ‘they’ were.”

Emily: “Lute. Adam leaves- he left almost everything that actually needed doing to her.”

Charlie: “Well this time the thing that needed doing-”

Emily: “They took her wings.”

Charlie: "It was more of a ripping action? Tearing?? Wrenching- No, ripping sounds right- Ripped them off and left them on the ground next to her. Vaggie had to stuff them in a dumpster before any sinners saw them and mobbed her.”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “M-maybe I shouldn’t have said that part.”

Emily: “It’s fine. Important to know.”

Charlie: “But Vaggie only just told ME about it, and now I’m blubbering it out to you- fuck. Forget I said it? Please?”

Emily: “You should talk about it with someone who isn’t her, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Not like this though! Not with-”

Emily: “An angel. Someone from heaven.”

Charlie: “-not with someone she isn’t even friends with yet.”

Emily: “Thanks for the ‘yet’ part. I hope you’re right about it.”

Charlie: “I will be. But um. Until then…?”

Emily: “All I know is she didn’t have wings and now she does again. No specifics.”

Charlie: “Thank you.”

Charlie: (clears throat) “You, uh. You were telling me about YOUR Exorcist.”

Emily: “Right. Her and children. The ones who wandered off-”

Charlie: “-onto the one place in heaven that isn’t sunshine and rainbows and fluffy clouds of happiness, right right.”

Emily: “It was a bit of shoreline Exorcists use for live battle training.”

Charlie: “Yay fun?”

Emily: “Where they, they practice tearing each other apart with their bare hands-”

Charlie: “Oh!”

Emily: “-weapons aren’t used for it, don’t worry! None of the children were in any real danger!”

Charlie: “But they SAW it!?”

Emily: “From a distance… not, not close enough to get splattered by blood….”

Charlie: “Oh wow that’s SO reassuring!”

Emily: “Except for one of them.”

Charlie: “How the HECK didn’t anyone notice there were kids around before starting that stuff!? Didn’t they CHECK-”

Emily: “The Exorcists are very used to being left alone.”

Charlie: “STILL!”

Emily: “I know. I was so angry at first- I didn’t show it, the other children were already hiding under my wings after I’d gathered them up. They didn’t need me getting mad too.”

Charlie: “Didn’t wanna to scare them?”

Emily: “Watching the Exorcists was scary enough.”

Charlie: “I’m trying SO real hard to imagine a happy ending for this.”

Emily: “It’s there, don’t worry. See, one of the children had wandered further than the rest, and was just standing there, frozen. Staring up at.. all that.”

Charlie: “That doesn’t sound happy.”

Emily: “It was so frustrating! I couldn’t get to them without bringing the others even closer too! Some of them could barely move they were so frightened- I tried calling up at the Exorcists, asking them to stop, but they either didn’t hear me or ignored me-”

Charlie: “FUCK that’s just-”

Emily: “But then-”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “One of them left formation.”

Charlie: (smiling) “Yeah?”

Emily: “She came swooping down, all soaked in blood- not hers, I don’t think. She didn’t look hurt. She landed right in front of the child."

Charlie: “Oh covered in BLOOD that must’ve been, er, something.”

Emily: “It wasn’t great. Poor thing was so scared under her shadow I thought they’d cry.”

Charlie: “Wouldn’t blame them.”

Emily: “Me neither. Those masks… but’s it’s funny, you know, how much a small thing can change everything else.”

Charlie: “She wasn’t as scary as her mask, was she?”

Emily: “No. She was, awkward. I saw her do a little wave and kneel down- later they said she’d talked with them, asked if they were hurt and where their home was.”

Charlie: “Normal stuff.”

Emily: “Strange for an Exorcist. Then she- she offered to take them home. She was still all spattered with-”

Charlie: “Blood. Ew.”

Emily: “I didn’t know what was going on when it happened, I just saw the Exorcist stand up and march right into the sea, right into the waves! She come out clean enough but also. Well. Also sopping wet and a bit um, a bit less scary looking."

Charlie: "Heheh."

Emily: "A lot less scary looking. A little pitiful looking?”

Charlie: “Like Husk after the champagne bottle incident!”

Emily: “Like who?”

Charlie: “Oh our bartender. Long story- but I’ve seen sad and bedraggled wings before. I’d LOVE to see them on an Exorcist!”

Emily: “It was pretty funny. And she didn’t seem to mind the child laughing at her either. If anything I think she made more of a show of shaking herself dry and fluffing up afterwards, once she heard them giggling over it.”

Charlie: “Aww~! She didn’t wanna scare them either!”

Emily: “She was silly. I’d never seen an Exorcist being silly before. The other ones watching didn’t seem to like it. They’d finally stopped fighting and looked like they were muttering to each other… Lute, Adam, even Sera, they're really strict about not having Heaven's army mixing with the rest of Heaven...”

Charlie: “But she- the silly exorcist- she didn’t care.”

Emily: “If she did, it didn’t stop her.”

Charlie: “Did she take the kid home herself then? Once she wasn’t covered in. Uhh. Blood.”

Emily: “She did. The other children were so jealous!”

Charlie: “Jealous??”

Emily: “After she helped wipe off the, the blood spatters on them, she scooped them up and just rocketed into the sky.”

Charlie: “Ohmygosh that's so FUN! Angel piggyback rides are the best!”

Emily: “It looked like it. Exorcists train and practice, and their wings are strong- I knew that but I still don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move like that in the air. Like she was dancing.”

Charlie: “Vaggie says fighting and dancing have a lot in common.”

Emily: “She does?”

Charlie: “Mm-hmm. And if SHE’S any example, then I bet plenty of the Exorcists would be GREAT dancers too! If they bothered not killing people long enough to find out, that is.”

Emily: “If. Right."

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “….Vaggie stopped. She was, she used to- and it took time but, she stopped.”

Emily: “And Lute cut out her eye for it.”

Charlie: “I don’t think she regrets losing it. Or- it was worth it to her? She.. sometimes it’s almost like she feels like she deserved it.” 

Emily: “I hope not. It shouldn’t have happened, it didn’t help anyone.”

Charlie: “No. It really didn’t.”

Emily: “They probably used her as an example of why no one else should do that.”

Charlie: “…well… maybe your Exorcist will still think it’s worth it?”

Emily: “Maybe. If she’s not dead.”

Charlie: “R-right.” 

Emily: “And she’s really not mine. I don’t even know her.”

Charlie: “You know enough to care.”

Emily: “To care about someone who might not even deserve it? How does that help anyone-”

Charlie: “EVERYONE deserves to be cared about.”

Emily: “Even-”

Charlie: “Everyone. At least to the point of caring if they’re dead or not.”

Emily: “… you’d make a great angel, Charlie.”

Charlie: “HA! I’m not sure that’s a compliment anymore but uh. Thanks?”

Emily: “I meant it more that, if Sera and Lute and Adam had been more like you, then none of this would have happened. Or if you’d been up here, you would’ve stopped them.”

Charlie: “Ehhh… I kinda think if you couldn’t manage it, I wouldn’t have either..? Definitely NOT alone and not without-”

Emily: “You started the hotel! You had to go against so many people to do that-”

Charlie: “-okay yes but we only JUST got that going. And I only could do THAT because I had…”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “It’s easier, with someone who believes in you.”

Emily: “Like a partner?”

Charlie: “Yeah.”

Emily: “A girlfriend.”

Charlie: “….yeah.”

Emily: “And it’s late. I’ll let you get back to her.”

Charlie: “It’s probably okay. She was tired and, she’s a pretty heavy sleeper once she actually falls asleep. You can usually tell when she really conks out because the snoring-”

Charlie: “-oh fuck oh no no no not again DON’T TELL HER I SAID THAT EITHER!”

Emily: “I won’t.” (giggling) “Although I might’ve heard it earlier.”

Charlie: “Fuck. Shit! FUCK!”

Emily: “But I swear on all six of my wings I won’t breathe a word. I also don’t know what happened to you guys- other than a huge traumatic revelation followed by an actual battle for your lives-”

Charlie: “That was a thing, yes.”

Emily: “-but I really hope you two are okay.”

Charlie: “Oh we will be! Weirdly enough, we’re better off now than we were before, even!”

Emily: “Lots of new things you can finally talk about?”

Charlie: “SO many.”

Emily: “Heh. Good. I’m glad something turned out okay from all this.”

Charlie: “And I really hope at least ONE more thing can turn out okay. For you, specifically.”

Emily: “We’ll… we’ll see I guess.”

Charlie: “First thing in the morning. I promise.”

Emily: (breath in) “Okay….” (breathe out) “Thank you.”

Charlie: “Any time. Or, no problem. Or- not that I WANT you to need help identifying bodies again anytime soon, I just meant…”

Emily: (laughs) “I know, Charlie. It’s okay. And it’s also really late. Good night.”

Charlie: “Good n- oh hey wait, Emily!!”

Emily: “-yes?”

Charlie: “What AM I looking for exactly? With the wings.”

Emily: “Oh- You know how Exorcist always those two stripes on theirs? The black bands on their feathers, the undersides.”

Charlie: “Yyyyep, yep. Now that you mention it…”

Emily: “She only had one.”

Charlie: "......"

Charlie: “…one… wing stripe?”

Emily: “It’s how I noticed her at first.”

Charlie: “That’s, that’s rare among Exorcists, huh?”

Emily: “She was the only one with wings like that, I think. Every few years I’d catch sight of her following behind Lute and Adam with a few others, trailing them through the actually populated places in Heaven for once, in full Exorcist gear.”

Charlie: “Well if she, if they were masked, maybe it wasn’t always the same person-”

Emily: “It was. She was easy enough to spot even without the wings, once I knew what to look for.”

Charlie: “Which was…?”

Emily: “She was the only one who’d wave back at the children who waved at her.”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “…oh.”

Emily: “Sorry. This is, a pretty depressing thing to go back to sleep after, isn’t it? Try to have some good dreams okay?”

Charlie: “I- I will. I’ll try. Um, you too?”

Emily: “I’ll give my best shot, if I can sleep. Thank you again, Charlie. Night.”

Charlie: “Good night..”

-call ends-

Charlie: “……..”

Muffled voice: “….charlie?”

Charlie: “SHIT!” (bangs head on door) (slips back into bedroom) “I’m here, I’m right here- no no no don’t sit up-!”

Vaggie: “What’s wrong?”

Charlie: “Nothing! Just a phone call. Please lay back down?”

Vaggie: “Something happened. Everyone okay?”

Charlie: “Everyone’s fine- Emily calling for a small favor that’s all- Vaggie c’mon, we just got it so your ribs weren’t getting pressed on…”

Vaggie: “Emily.” (alarmed) “Did Lute try something? Did Sera-?”

Charlie: “NO. Nothing happened to anyone! Now, SIT!”

Vaggie: (sits)

Vaggie: “Something’s wrong.”

Charlie: “Well my girlfriend happens to be one half broken bones and other half tenderized meat and won’t stay still, so THAT’S not exactly great!”

Vaggie: “…..”

Charlie: “…….”

Charlie: (sits too) “…Emily wants help checking the dead Exorcists. She might’ve known one of them.”

Vaggie: “Shit.”

Charlie: “Yeah..”

Vaggie: “But, knew one? How would she know any of us?”

Charlie: “Well…”

Vaggie: “She’s a seraph. The only Exorcist who goes near the higher ups is Lute.”  

Charlie: “Right but, just because you never met her doesn’t mean…”

Charlie: (sighs)

Charlie: “It was a LONG talk. Tell you tomorrow?”

Vaggie: "I guess... If you promise to be my pillow and lay down for a while instead of just pacing some more, then yeah, I can wait.”

Charlie: “Okay not fair- I was taking a call!”

Vaggie: “Your hoofbeats were tip tapping through my dreams long before then, babe.”

Charlie: “Motherfucker.”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Sleep, sweetie.” (drags them down)

Charlie: “Hey don’t act like that wasn’t MY line a moment ago!”

Vaggie: “A moment ago all I knew was something was wrong and you were sad. Now I know just the usual shit is wrong, and you’re dead tired.”

Charlie: “Guess you’re not wrong there…”

Charlie: “….Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Hmm?”

Charlie: "Do you.. like Emily?"

Vaggie: "Like her? The one not asshole angel up in heaven? She got all fired up with you about the shit unfairness of hell and stuff. What's not to like."

Charlie: "That's not the same as you actually liking her though."

Vaggie: "Hun, we've barely met. It's not like I went on the heaven tour with her."

Charlie: "Buuut.. maybe you'd like to get to know her?"

Vaggie: "Do you want me to get to know her."

Charlie: ".... I just wish there was some part of heaven that... wasn't bad for you."

Vaggie: "Hey, it was heaven. Murder soldier cult thing aside, if we're just talking personal comfort or whatever, it wasn't the worst thing in creation."

Charlie: "Wow what a stunning review! Other than the psychological trauma, it was great!"

Vaggie: "It wasn't that bad. Just you know. Comparatively."

Charlie: "Comparatively?"

Vaggie: "To this. Being here like this, with you."

Charlie: "Hmph."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "... you asleep?"

Vaggie: "Almost. But it feels like you have another question before you're ready for sleep."

Charlie: "You don't have to answer this one."

Vaggie: "Me not answering is kinda what fucked us over before."

Charlie: "It's different now. We can wait until you're ready."

Vaggie: "I'm ready. Ask."

Charlie: "....okay."

Charlie: "Um..."

Charlie: “Was. The sinners you killed-”

Vaggie: “Murdered.”

Charlie: “Murdered, okay. Okay. Were they. Were any of them… kids?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “Once.”

Vaggie: “Almost.”

Charlie: “…almost… so, that was the time you stopped.”

Vaggie: “Yes.”

Charlie: “Okay. Because it was a kid?”

Vaggie: “I don’t know.”

Charlie: “What d-”

Vaggie: “I don’t know what I mean. It doesn’t. I don’t think it matters. Charlie- not killing one time isn’t the same as… never having killed.”

Charlie: “I know- I mean, I get that-”

Vaggie: “It doesn’t fix anything, or make anything better.”

Charlie: “It doesn't have to! We’re working on that part together. With the hotel.”

Vaggie: “It's not your thing to have to make up for.”

Charlie: “My home, my people, my friends and my girlfriend. Mine mine mine. And you feel better now you’ve stopped, don’t you?”

Vaggie: “Feeling like a less crappy person also isn’t the same as feeling better.”

Charlie: “It’s not?”

Vaggie: “Thinking you’re a good person, a hero even, is a pretty great feeling. Finding out you’re murderer sucks.”

Charlie: “You ARE a good-!”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Please?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “What about when I hug you?”

Vaggie: “… hard not to feel lucky as hell, then.”

Charlie: “Good” (hugs) "Me too."

Vaggie: “Kinda hard to hug back while I’m lying half on top of you… Would a wing snuggle be alright?”

Charlie: “It won’t hurt your ribs??”

Vaggie: “No. I could use a stretch, honestly.”

Charlie: “Then gimme the floofies!”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “GIMME GIMME~”

Vaggie: "Floofies at your service." (wings go floof) (snuggles one over charlie) “I’m glad they came back.. different.”

Charlie: “With the gray?”

Vaggie: “Mm. Thoughts?”

Charlie: “GRAY-t! They go WAY better with your hair now!”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Nice. Girlfriend approved."

Charlie: "And it's lucky we ARE girlfriends, or else your pretty wings would have girls FLOCKING to you!"

Vaggie: "Right." (SNORTS) "Night, Charlie.”

Charlie: “If you’re wishing me goodnight to try stoping the wing puns, please know there’s more where that came from! I am in no way winging it here.”

Vaggie: “I figured.”

Charlie: "I really do love your wings, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Really helps they don't look like they used to."

Charlie: "Hmm. Is the anything other than the color different?"

Vaggie: "... Isn't that enough?"

Charlie: "I don't mean it like that! It's just, well, they only have one stripe on them, and the other exorcists-"

Vaggie: "They were like that before. Sorry."

Charlie: "Vaggie I don't NEED them to look different. I'm just, curious!"

Vaggie: "Uh-huh."

Charlie: "Really! Did any of the other exorcists have-?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "None of them? Ever?"

Vaggie: "Not since I took up vanguard duty. Or since. Looks like Lute got rid of the position after I- after getting rid of me. Now they just all stream down into hell all at once. No one scouts ahead." (mutters) "Messy."

Charlie: "Huh."

Vaggie: "So I guess my wings didn't change that much really."

Charlie: "If they'd stayed exactly the same I would have loved them."

Vaggie: "Not sure I'd want you to."

Charlie: "Too bad. They're part of you. They're part of the most amazing woman I've ever met.... If you like them better now though, that's good. Maybe you. Maybe you'll feel like having them out more?"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "BUT I want eternal dibs on the wing hugs."

Vaggie: "What? You staking a claim?"

Charlie: "Yes absolutely. My wing hugs, okay?" (hugs tighter) "Mine."

Vaggie: "Okay." (chuckling) (relaxing) "They're all yours, babe." (snuggling in) “Love you...”

Charlie: “Love you too, Vaggie.”

Charlie: (smooches gf's forehead) “Goodnight…”

Vaggie: (already asleep)

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: (traces the one stripe on Vaggie’s wing)

Charlie: "...you probably could have been happy up there... if they'd let you."

Charlie: (wipes face)

Charlie: “… fuck heaven.”  

Vaggie: (SNORES)

Charlie: (grins) (still teary-eyed) “Exactly.”

[violetvulpini]

A comm for my buddy @morninglarkspur! This piece is for a big crossover the cult has made between our AUs, lovingly dubbed the White Void Crossover.

An Arm for an Arm (red-eyed Rock) is by Lark themself!

Keep the Melody (Blues and Rock) is by @forestlingincorporated

Proto Swap AU (left-hand Protoman, Megaman, and Ruby Spears) is by @wolfoftonight

And Through the Window (the last two) is by me!

If you're interested in a comm of your own, please consider checking out my site!

[starry-bi-sky]

thinking about Dan in CFAU and just how different he needs to be (in my opinion) in order for Danny's whole thing to work. Canon Danny with Dan's influence, would never even consider thinking of killing anyone even after losing people close to him because he'd be scared of becoming like him. CFAU Danny however has been festering in this hurt and anger for years and wants the Joker dead and is plotting it. I don't think he'd do that with Dan's influence.

I explained how Rath came to be in this post here. Things happened in TUE as normal -- Danny's family dies, he lives with Vlad, Vlad rips out his ghost half. The difference here is that not only was Danny in a grieving state (something exclusive to banshees that the post goes into) but he also doesn't end up fusing with Vlad.

What happens instead is that Danny's ghost half, consumed already with grief and now enraged by being murdered and lied to by Vlad, destroys him completely and disappears into the ghost zone. He traps himself unintentionally in a negative feedback loop of grief, and as a human spirit banshee, cannot mentally handle the constant agony and sorrow he's experiencing. What happens is that he ends up driving himself insane with misery.

So the difference here, ultimately, between Dan and Rath, is that at the end of the day; Dan is fully aware of his actions. He knows what he's doing is wrong, and delights in it. He acknowledges his lack of humanity and feels no remorse in doing what he does.

Rath? He's... not. Not really. Dan is a hulking mass of muscle; tall, towering, terrifying. He loves what he does and does what he loves. Rath, however, appears as a scrawny young boy in raggedy clothes far too big for him, hunched in on himself while dirty, unkempt hair curtains his face and hides whatever he doesn't have ducked down in his curled-in form.

Rath is locked in a constant, unending state of sorrow and misery. He, for lack of better words, is unable to perceive the world around him properly and lashes out terribly and violently at anyone or anything that catches his attention. The only thing that he knows is that his family is gone, his other half is gone, that everyone he loves is gone, gone, gone.

He is a zombie apocalypse wrapped up in the form of a malnourished child, wandering the world in search of people who are not there, and becomes furious if you're not them. He is constantly crying, but he's been crying for so long that he's all but lost his voice. Meaning anyone trying to keep an ear out for him has to listen for soft, pained gasps and quiet whimpering, and wonder if the sound they're hearing are hurt survivors, or the very thing they're running from.

As a result, Rath's influence on Danny isn't that he's scared of doing something bad and becoming like him. He's scared of losing control of himself and dooming himself and others to eternal misery. As a result, he's adamant that things that he's done were not done out of pure emotion, but were active choices he made.

Up to and including killing the Joker. There's enough grief and rage behind his views on him that anyone could argue, especially knowing that Danny's a ghost, that he was not in the right mind when he did it. He was blinded by his emotions and was not in the right mental capacity, he had no control over himself. It'd work as a convincing argument.

If it weren't for Danny himself arguing against it. Killing the Joker was a choice he made, fully and willingly. It was autonomous, premeditated murder and he won't accept anything else -- it was not a fit of passion, it was not act of insanity, it was a decision. He won't accept it being anything else but revenge either, and if anyone tries to claim that it was a necessary evil he will yell at them. He didn't do this for the betterment of the public, that was just a fortunate side effect. He did it for himself and Jason. If you wanted it to be a necessary evil, then you should've killed him yourself. It was a selfish evil and he knows it.

In the end, Dan’s existence would prevent Joker’s death. Rath’s existence only solidifies it.

Rath's complete difference from Dan is one of my favorite parts about this au even if he never makes a direct appearance.