#that random couple pictured from the waste down would die if they knew huh

[pocketramblr]

how his hair do that, 5 options

the following is a crack fanfic in five parts, each section on the same premise but not same continuity. also, very spoilerish

bnha manga spoilers below! very recent leaks below! very spoilery!

Better than a charcoal milkshake v 1

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When the heroes first attacked, alarms blaring, compound up in chaos, Dabi snuck away. He let the others pour out of the doors and down the stairs, and crept backwards, turning and running once he was certain no one would notice him.

Not that it would matter much if he did, but why waste the energy on killing them too? He’d need all his firepower today.

Dabi tore through the halls to his room, making it there and slapping his card against the scanner. No time to lose, not when he knew he needed to take care of a few more things before locating where Endeavor was in this heroes’ mission.

He kicked open his bathroom door, hands occupied with carefully pulling the black wig off his head- snagging that on his staples was just the worst, and he couldn’t have blood messing this up today.

Not yet, at least.

Under the bathroom cabinet he grabbed the bag of powery charcoal. It was supposed to be used for some beauty purpose or another, something about enriching hair that didn’t even work- but it would work to darken his white locks.

He poured it on, barely bothering to lean over the sink and keep it from going everywhere. As a final test, he once more wet a bit of it, the color seeping from the hair as it dripped.

He already knew it would work, that’s why he had intercepted so much of it before the quirk cultists could offer it to Toga or Hawks or whoever, but his heart was racing with both nerves and pure excitement.

Finally. The day he’d burn it all down, and make them see why.

He left his door open as he ran back out into the hallway, making a beeline for where he left Hawks. First things first, take care of that, then find Endeavor.

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Better than a charcoal milkshake v 2

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“Hey, put me down by that camping supplies store. And Skeptic too.” Dabi ordered, surveying the carnage of Jakku and glancing over at the man hunched over his laptop.

Said man looped up sharply at that, frowning and spitting that he wasn’t going to do that or something.

Dabi didn’t really pay attention to that.

“Where?” Gigantomachia asked, still rumbling forward towards whatever he smelled. Two masters or something.

Compress cleared his throat and translated for the currently blinded giant. “It’s at 4:05 o’clock, I’d say thirty feet forward.” He then looked over at Dabi, mask as unsettling as any of them. “You’ll be carefull too, on your personal mission?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dabi waved him off, snagging Skeptic by the back of his shirt and tugging as Machia scooped them up and placed them on the pavement.

He ran inside the evacuated store, mercifully empty and not decayed, and started looking for the bags of charcoal.

When he found one, he tore it open. Charcoal fell to the floor, and he ground his boot down into it.

“What…” Skeptic seemed without words, for once. Good.

Dabi tore off his black wig, tossing it aside. He wouldn’t need it anymore.

“You wear a wig??”

“Yeah.” He started to scoop up handfuls of the charcoal, rubbing it into his hair. “Hey, go grab me some water, and then go set up the cameras. We got a show to put on.”

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Stinky dumpster boy

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“But my good name?” He sneered the word and all it implied in the world of false heroes, “is Todoroki Touya.”

With that, he dumped the water over his head, and it streamed down over his face, filthy.

The dirty water, practically mud, stung the places on his face where his skin was barely stapled together, and Dabi was reminded of why he didn’t bother with showers anymore- the pain.

But now his true colors- literally- were revealed and it was all worth it. All the truth was out, and the truth had always hurt him.

Shoto, who seemed to be trying to juggle first aid on like, five different people with two random heroes he didn’t know next to him, gaped.

“Come on, I know my face has changed, but my own family should still be able to recognize me, yeah? But you never did. You never did, Todoroki Shoto.”

Dabi suddenly found himself encased in ice.

Ah, this again.

“Yumi’s is colder.”

Shoto’s jaw dropped, then he glared. “Stand back.” He said as he stood up. “He just dunked water on his head, to cool him off I bet. If he is Touya, his body never could handle his own heat. If he’s not… those burns come from somewhere at least.”

Ok, now Dabi was offended.

“What do you mean, ‘if I’m not’?” he demanded. “I just revealed my white hair? I know that’s what the picture on my shrine looks like, you never even looked at that?”

“How do you even know what your shrine looks like?” Shoto sounded dangerously close to judgmental for a little brother who was probably as emo as Dabi had been at his age. “And wait, that cup of water was supposed to wash out your hair? What, do you never bathe or something?”

Ok, now Dabi was really offended.

“Of course I bathe! I just have to sponge bath, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed from having your own scars, but when they take up most of your body and are killing you they end up controlling a lot of your life!”

Ugh, asking him if he didn’t bathe. He’d understand that asked of Shigaraki, sure, but him? Shoto had gotten close enough to smell him, at least.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” the hero in blue, the one that was tending to Eraserhead, raised his hands. “But uh… do you want some help with that?”

“I’m fine, don’t want to cool him off too much so he can fight longer.” Shoto shook his head.

“I was talking to him.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

The hero waved his hand, bubble of water pulling up from the ground. Then he pointed to his own head. “I can take care of that? At the very least it’ll be cleaned out and um, whatever color it should be?”

Dabi stared at him. Shoto stared at him. The other hero in green stared at him, and the one who’d offered help started to sweat noticebly.

“Eh, sure, whatever.”

The hero nodded, and the bubble of water floated over to him, disappearing in his hair.

The bubble floated out a couple of time, murky brown and black with ash, dirt, oil, blood, anything else he’d never thought about too much. It would wring itself thin, much dropping, and return to cleaning.

Finally, his hair was mostly white and thoroughly soaked.

“Thanks.” He called over.

“Yeah.” The hero answered, still frantically trying to help Eraserhead with his free hand, which he’d gone back too as soon as he thought Dabi was distracted. Buying time.

The other hero was on his fourth facepalm.

Shoto just looked contemplative.

Endeavor, one of the ones receiving treatment, sat up but looked like he was going to pass out.

Well all right then. Time to really start- the hair snafu didn’t matter. They were all going to die that day anyway.

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Weirdest commercial I’ve ever been in.

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“We’ll be dancing in hell together, Todoroki Enji.” Dabi finished his speech with a sneer.

The watching heroes were all stunned silent, mouths open, eyes wide. The revelation must be sending them, like it would all who were watching Skeptic’s broadcast. This would burn it all down, perfect.

“I don’t understand…” Enji managed to say, spitting out a bit of blood.

“What, you don’t understand how I survived, or how I hate you so much I’d hurt innocent people over it? Because that second part is exactly what you did, take out all that self-loathing and insecurity, rage at your shortcomings and condemn children not born yet to them. Guess it’s a family trait.”

“No, not that,” He waved a hand. “I mean, I totally get how you’re a wreck, even if all of your other siblings managed to not become mass murders, I mean- I don’t understand, how did that pint of water wash out all of your hair dye? Aren’t you better funded after the Deika merger, can’t you afford proper hair coloring?”

“I was also wondering that.” Shoto admitted.

“Same.” The hero in blue nodded. The hero in green facepalmed.

“Water?” Dabi repeated, then looked at the can he’d tossed aside. “Oh, no. This isn’t water- it’s a momento of the only true hero.” He bent down, picking up the can and studying the image on it.

“Stain was right, you know.” He mused. “About hero society being rotten. So rotton, so full of fakes, that there was only one that deserved the title. He just got the wrong hero, guessing All Might.” Dabi snorted at the very idea. “No, the only real one, the pure one, the one that defines heroism, the only one with a kill count higher than me- for all the dear old man and his biggest fan Hawks tried, of course- is Wash.”

“… Wash?” Shoto cocked his head. “Wait, like, Wash, Wash?”

“The one and only. That’s how this Official Wash’s Hair Washing Serum, the only product that can wash out all dirt, dye, and any other kind of grime, in just one go.” He shook the can around so they could see. “What, you all thought I could just magically lighten my hair from black to white in the space of one fight?”

“No,” Shoto said, like a liar, and then he threw a glacier at Dabi, and the fight was on in earnest.

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Old news

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“And now you’ll see who I really am, who you’ve created.” Dabi poured the bleach over his head, giving it a moment to sink into the hair before he shook it out, grinning wide enough to tear his staples.

The heroes on the ground and the few tending to them stared in shock.

Then Shoto gasped.

“Hawks?”

“What? Where?” Dabi whirled around, looked up, because he was really sure he had managed to make sure that pest wouldn’t be flying or fighting again, but well… he’d thought that once before and been wrong then.

“No, you- you’re Hawks, you dye your hair black when its in Dabi mode, and its that beachy yellow blond in Hawks mode.” Shoto nodded to himself.

Blond? Dabi tugged at a lock of hair, and huh. It did seem more yellow than white.

“How could he be Hawks?” The hero in green demanded incredulously, before the hero in blue grabbed his arm and pulled it back to holding down Eraserhead for bandaging.

“The burns and staples are part of the disguise,” Shoto explained. “Fake, and misdirection. You were trained from young childhood to be a hero, sent to join AfO and the league as a spy, where you gained a fire quirk and decided to switch to the villains’ side because you hated the life you were forced into.”

Dabi stared at him.

Shoto stared back.

Enji stared at both of them.

“How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time?” Slipped from chapped, burnt lips.

Shoto looked offended at that.

“I mean, you’re half right, yes that’s what up with Hawks, yes he was sent as a spy, but I knew and I killed him at the compound. And not, like, in a metaphorical way.” He added when he saw something spark in Shoto’s eyes. “Literally. I’m not him. He is completely separate person and body than me and I totally literally killed him.” Or like. Close enough. “And like, thirty other people who were completely innocent.”

Or close enough, he really didn’t bother to keep track, but thirty sounded like a big number. Especially of murders.

“So then who are you?” Shoto asked.

“What, you don’t recognize me, little brother?” He almost growled it, feeling very tired of this all of a sudden.

“Little brother?” Shoto repeated, eyes wide, then narrowing. “Wait, how…”

“Oh not again.” Enji muttered.

“Not again?” Dabi asked. “Wait, you actually managed to drive one of the others to this too? And cover it up? Man, Enji, you’re more rotten than even I knew then!”

“One of the others?” Shoto looked around wildly. “What are you talking about?”

“I was talking about how Shigaraki also randomly showed up and called a first year student “little brother”.” Enji looked back over at Dabi. “What were you talking about?”

“Shigaraki did what?” The pyro looked over his shoulder, finding the villain looking absolutely stoned on the ground, almost as vacant as some of the unconscious heroes, with a curly haired student laying bloodied nearby, staring up at him. “Wait, which student is his little brother?”

“Midoriya, apparently.” Shoto shrugged.

“Midoriya?” Dabi almost choked on the name. “As in, the green bone-breaking kid? Isn’t he like All Might’s lovechild or something?”

“That’s what I said too!”

“I mean, his hair was also lighter when he showed up today.” The hero in blue pointed out to his fellow in a voice that would have been too quiet for Dabi to hear had everyone else not gone silent as well.

“And bleach boy tried to do the same thing with the bleach, yeah. Here, I’ll tie this off, you go take care of Bakugo.”

“I’m Todoroki Touya!” Dabi snapped. “Or I used to be called by that name, anyway, before you nearly killed me, Enji. Let’s just- get back to fighting, yeah, I’m going to kill you.”

[sarahzstories]

*A/N this is an interview with Gwen and Harry Styles from my Instagram story that you can read here! This is done as if the interviewer is sitting in their living room asking them questions for a magazine! I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into the Styles marriage!*

Q: Harry what was your first impression of Gwen?

Harry: I thought she was dead at first.

Gwen: That’s so lovely honeybuns. Why don’t you elaborate on that?

Harry: Right well, I was walking down the beach after a few cocktails at this bar I went to a lot in Jamaica and uh...well there was this body just laying in the sand and uhm...I’m not going to lie I did contemplate kicking her when I first approached her.

Gwen: That’s a good first thought process to kick a body you assume is dead.

Harry: Don’t be mean lovey. I’m being honest.

Gwen: Please go on...

Harry: But I didn’t have to kick her or anything because as soon as I kneeled down to like touch her she opened her eyes and gave me this huge smile as if she’d known I was there the whole time and in that very moment I remember going “oh wow”

Gwen: He did in fact say that out loud.

Harry: She was honestly mesmerizing and it had nothing to do with the drinks I’d had before seeing her.

Gwen: I’m sure the booze had nothing to do with it. *pats Harry’s leg*

Harry: So my first impression was “is she dead?” And “wow” does that answer the question?

Gwen: I hope you’re comfortable? This is going to be a while...was that just the first question?

Harry: *rolls eyes*

Q: Did you instantly hit it off?

Gwen: I’d say yes, because after we met on the beach we spent the rest of my time in Jamaica together.

Harry: Yes we hit it off right away. We just sort of had a spark and I just didn’t want to spend time without her if I didn’t have to, honestly I’d never met anyone like her before.

Gwen: He’s still like that.

Harry: It’s true. i don’t like to be away from her if I don’t have to be.

Q: Who made the relationship official and when?

Harry: I did and it was the day my album came out and honestly it wasn’t planned it just sort of happened.

Gwen: He was on FaceTime with me while I finally got to listen to his album and he just kind of blurted out that he loved me.

Harry: Yup. I said “I love you” and she smiled and said it back so naturally I followed that up with “so, can I call you my girlfriend now or is that lame?”

Gwen: And to that of course I told him “sure” ya know super casual.

Harry: That’s us right? The picture of a casual couple.

Gwen: Gucci isn’t casual honeybuns.

Harry: It can be if done properly.

Q: Where do the nicknames honeybuns and love comes from?

Gwen: I mean look at him! He is sweet and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy like a honeybun.

Harry: She’s just always been my lovey? I don’t remember a time where I didn’t call her that.

Gwen: He only calls me other names when he’s upset with me.

Harry: True...but that’s very rare

Q: Gwen did you honestly not know who Harry was when you met him? And was that weird for you Harry?

Gwen: I had heard of him yes, I mean I didn’t live under a rock and I’m from California so the name Harry Styles I’d heard before. But I honestly didn’t know what he looked like before meeting him. I wasn’t a huge One Direction fan and he hadn’t had any solo stuff out yet so I didn’t really see his face anywhere.

Harry: You didn’t like One Direction?

Gwen: Do not start with me. I didn’t say I didn’t like One Direction, I just said I wasn’t a huge fan. There’s a difference. That type of music just wasn’t my thing. But I listen to it now with Vivienne.

Harry: But really it was sort of not weird but refreshing? The fact that this human whom I’ve completely become enamored with has no clue who I am other than what she sees and knows because of things I’ve told her, it was very exciting because it just assured me that she really liked me for the real me and not Harry Styles from One Direction.

Gwen: When I found out that he was this massive superstar it didn’t change anything about him in my eyes. We met in a situation where no one treated him any different than everyone else so it wasn’t until I got back home and told my friends who I had met and what had happened that it all sort of came crashing down that “wow he is like a really big deal huh?”

Harry: I remember being so scared about what was going to happened when she left Jamaica since I still had loads to do with the album and such and I just didn’t want what we had built together to get ruined by like the reality of the real world if that makes sense? I didn’t want her finding out about “Harry Styles” to ruin it all because I really liked her.

Gwen: It makes sense honeybuns. We met in the weirdest of circumstances so that’s a very rational fear to have. But look at us! We’ve come so far!

Harry: So far indeed.

Q: Who is more romantic?

Harry: Gwen.

Gwen: See I was going to say you!

Harry: Me? No way. You leave me those cute little notes in random places that have those little poems on them.

Gwen: Yeah but you send me flowers randomly and will text me in the middle of the day reminding me of random things you love about me.

Harry: So it’s safe to say we are both equally romantic? I will say this though, Gwen knows how to plan a romantic date that would put even the greatest romance movies to shame.

Gwen: I do love a good romantic date.

Q: What’s Harry like in the mornings?

Gwen: Annoyingly cheery.

Harry: Ah love a good morning.

Gwen: Really he is a dream in the morning because me and mornings don’t mix well so he’s quite lovely to have around in the morning. He makes my coffee and sometimes if I’m really in a mood he will put my slippers on my feet for me.

Harry: That happens about four days out of the week lovey...

Gwen: Like I said me and mornings don’t mix well so he’s good to have around.

Harry: *smiles*

Q: Do you think you two have a healthy relationship?

Harry: Uh I mean yes? But I’m not afraid to say I’m a very codependent type human and Gwen is who I have clung to over the past few years but that’s just me being honest.

Gwen: I think we have a healthy relationship. Every couple is different and Harry and I just prefer to be around each other anytime that we can. But that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate.

Harry: I agree lovey. Gwen is literally my human. So if you’ve met your human than you get it? It’s almost painful to be without them. But I don’t think that’s unhealthy? We can go places without each other we just don’t enjoy it as much.

Gwen: I let him go to the grocery store without me. I loathe that place.

Harry: True. She hates it so yes I go there alone once a week and it’s fine.

Q: What’s something a lot of people get wrong about your relationship?

Gwen: That it’s all perfect all the time, like people really think we don’t ever argue and I’m like what? We broke up for like five months at one point. We aren’t perfect.

Harry: Yes people seem to think the two of us are just such a perfect match that we aren’t allowed to disagree or fight. We have disagreements but we are adults so we handle it and move on.

Gwen: He thinks that glitter belongs on everything and I disagree. There is a time and a place for it.

Harry: That time and place is always and on everything. So you see? We are just going to move on now because she knows that’s a hill I am willing to die on.

Gwen: He will defend glitter until his dying breath.

Q: Why did you two break up? Who initiated getting back together?

Harry: I was selfish and assumed Gwen was going to always be okay with having her dreams be on the back burner until I got my career where I wanted it. So naturally she just got tired of it and left, I completely deserved it.

Gwen: I didn’t just leave though. It wasn’t quite that dramatic, we had a long conversation and decided it would be best if I moved out and at that point he had just started all his Gucci campaign stuff so he left for Italy while I moved back into my old place.

Harry: Also I initiated the getting back together process because Gwen knew that I just needed my time to really process what I wanted and that when I was ready I’d find her again.

Gwen: It was all very mutually respectful, I knew what he needed and he also knew that I needed to go and do some things for myself so it wasn’t this big sad emotional thing because I think we both knew we’d end up together it was just a matter of when.

Harry: Oh yeah I knew you’d be mine again I just needed to get my shit together first.

Gwen: Honeybuns! Language...

Harry: Oh right! Sorry...

Q: Was Vivienne planned?

Harry: Yes. Everyone assumes she wasn’t and I think that’s solely because when we announced Gwen was pregnant we weren’t engaged or anything.

Gwen: Harry and I have known we are it for each other since the very beginning so wanting to start a family was a very natural next step for us even though we didn’t have the labels of husband and wife yet.

Harry: Exactly, we’d been together for a while and I kept telling her how our house could use some more heartbeats and not ones that belong to cats.

Gwen: He made it pretty clear he wanted a baby and one night I told him “a baby would be nice” and boom two months later I found out about Vivienne.

Harry: I don’t like to waste time.

Q: How did you two find out about Vivienne?

Gwen: I was tired a lot and that’s very much not my thing.

Harry: She may hate mornings but she isn’t one to lay in bed all day. So we kinda knew something was off.

Gwen: So I went to the doctor and got some blood work done and they came back with a smile on their face and I just knew. I was like “I’m pregnant.” And I cried because I mean I’m carrying a little human! It was very emotional for me.

Harry: So naturally she had to call me to come get her because she wasn’t in any condition to drive and when I got there she was a mess and I could tell by how she was smiling probably the biggest smile I’d ever seen on her face that it was good news and I just started getting all watery eyed myself because being a dad is just... something I’ve wanted for a while.

Gwen: I didn’t get to tell him in some elaborate way, I’m not very big on that type of thing so that whole situation of him having to come get me is very us.

Harry: Yes very us indeed, crying in the middle of a lobby over Vivienne.

Q: What was Harry’s proposal like?

Gwen: Very casual because I was very pregnant and we were laying on the couch and he went to go get my heating pad and I had Lancelot on my hip and Merlin was laying on my feet and when he came back into the living room he laughed and I was “are you laughing at me? Why are you laughing at me?”

Harry: It almost went very bad very quickly because she doesn’t like to be laughed at if she didn’t intentionally do something funny. It hurts her feelings.

Gwen: But anyway he comes in without my heating pad but he has this little box in his hands and then he got down on one knee and leaned over the couch and grabbed my hand and at this point I’m crying and Lancey and Merlin are looking at him like “why are you hurting my mom? I will kill you” because they got very protective of me while I was pregnant.

Harry: I mean it makes sense. You’re their queen...

Gwen: True. But then Harry placed the ring on my middle finger because that’s the only one it would fit at the moment and goes “Please allow me the pleasure of being yours for all eternity? I promise I’ll never stop loving you.” So I said yes and we both cried as usual and it was very sweet.

Harry: Best decision I’ve ever made was asking Gwen to allow me to love her forever.

Q: What was the wedding like?

Harry: It was perfect. It was exactly what we wanted and very small and intimate. Gwen looked like an absolute vision.

Gwen: It was very romantic and not on a beach as everyone assumed it would be. It was very low key and it was just a dream. I loved every moment of it.

Harry: *stares at Gwen with a grin on his face*

Gwen: He’s thinking about it...

Q: How many kids do you want? What do you want next?

Harry: Six

Gwen: He’s been saying six for like a few weeks now but we for sure see ourselves with at least four.

Harry: Why not add two more and make it six? Six is a solid number.

Gwen: I’ll have six if one set is of twins.

Harry: That’s fare lovey, I’d love a set of twins.

Gwen: But as far as what we want next we don’t care. Gender is a social construct that we don’t really abide by.

Harry: We just want healthy children.

Q: Harry have you written any songs about Gwen?

Gwen: Oh yes good question. He doesn’t answer when I ask this and I only truly know of one song.

Harry: Yes I have.

Gwen: What songs?

Harry: That wasn’t the question lovey.

Gwen: *rolls eyes*

Q: How have things changed since you’ve gotten more personal on social media Harry?

Harry: I think people can see a side of me that normally they wouldn’t. I’m still very private with things but Gwen shares a bit more than me and I love that the fans or just anyone who’s interested in our lives can get a little glimpse of what’s really going on. It’s been nice.

Gwen: We are still very private and don’t show certain things, like we didn’t post a picture of Vivienne until we were already safe at home and all that. I love Harry’s fans to death and they for the most part love us as well but I also know not everyone is on our social media out of love for us so I think we have a nice balance of showing the real us while keeping somethings to ourselves.

Harry: I agree. We keep a good balance and it’s been great.

Q: Who is worst at answering texts?

Gwen: Me

Harry: She is the worst.

Gwen: He will text me and I’ll just call him and he’s like “lovey there is a reason I texted instead of calling you..” and he’ll be in a meeting and I’ll feel horrible.

Harry: Happens all the time. She doesn’t like to text.

Q: How do you make your marriage work while Harry’s gone a lot for work?

Harry: We communicate very well. We have routines we do every day while I’m away and it helps tremendously. Also I don’t go away without my girls a lot so we don’t have to do this often.

Gwen: Yes communication is key! We FaceTime about four times a day when he’s gone. But he’s right a lot of the time we go with him. Like if he is filming something or shooting something Vivienne and I will go with but not go to the set until he tells me he’s almost wrapped up for the day then we go over and get to see him do his thing for a bit witch is always fun.

Harry: I just do better when I know my girls are close by. I know that makes me sound so odd but really I’ve said it so many times but I don’t enjoy myself when I don’t have Gwen around and Vivienne well she just lights up my world.

Gwen: Like nobody else?

Harry: Was that a One Direction lyric quote lovey? You do listen!

Gwen: I told you I listen with Vivienne so she can hear her dad in his younger years.

Q: Is there anything you’d like to say to the fans?

Gwen: Thank you for loving my honeybuns and I so much. We adore you all so much and are truly grateful for the opportunities we are given because of how much you love us.

Harry: Yes, thank you so much. I have nothing but an endless amount of love for each and every one of you. Thank you. 

[uas-fics]

Title: Cheat The Reaper

Summary:  He was warned this target had avoided death before, but Stan was not going to let this 'Kenny McCormick' guy cheat him. You can bet your life on that!

Rating: T

Ships: Stenny

CW: Temporary Character Death

Other: For Day 3 of @stenny-week “Death”

Read on ao3

~~~~~

“‘Kenny McCormick.’” Stan read. “‘Age nineteen, lives in South Park, Colorado, Roman Catholic, death by asphyxia.’”

The other reapers around the table exchanged looks. Cartman laughed into his hand.

“Pulled a good one, Stan.” He snorted.

“What?” Stan frowned. “Seems like a normal death to me.”

“Most deaths in that town are weird, dude,” Tweek looked up from his paperwork. “Craig had to reap a man there once, and the paperwork for him took ages!” He glanced at his boyfriend as he worked on his own papers.

Craig didn’t look up. “Yeah, time and logic are fucked up there. I don’t know if its because some way lines cross there  or because of the cult there, but if you make any mistake, no matter how small, then your target can avoid death altogether.” He tapped his pen against his paper. “What’s the death date for that newscaster I reaped last week? Tenth or eleventh?”

“The tenth, I think,” Tweek told him.

“Thanks, babe.”  He leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Get a room.” To Stan, he said, “yeah, South Park is a fucked up place, but I mean that you got Kenny McCormick. That guy isn’t human, you know. I’ve overheard reapers that were sent to get him before, and he has unworldly powers that let him cheat us.”

Stan pursed his lips. It was not an uncommon occurrence for someone to make a deal with a reaper to avoid death. There was even a special form just for the scenario that the reaper lost their deal. It was an old tradition that Stan doubted would ever die.

“No, that’s not possible,” Stan muttered, shaking his head. “Cheating a reaper once or twice, but you make it sound like he’s done this multiple times.”

“He has,” Cartman stated matter of factly. “At least ten times now, maybe more.”

“Bull shit.” Craig jabbed his pen at Cartman. “No one can cheat a reaper that many times. The Big Man wouldn’t allow that.”

“If this kid was human, but he’s not!” Cartman threw his arms up. The air movement from his action sent some of Tweek's paperwork off the table.

Craig glared as he reached down to help pick up the loose papers.

“Still, I call bullshit.” Craig grumbled, then louder, he demanded to know, “Why are you even sitting with us? Go pester someone else!”

“This is the best table in the workroom. Closest to the snack machine and under a vent.” Cartman explained, pointing to the snack machine and vent in turn. “Also, no. You move. I claimed this table our first day.”

“You can't claim a table like that. This isn't fucking middle school.” Craig growled.

“Craig, it's fine.” Tweek shook his head. As the two boyfriends began to bicker, Stan stood up. Cartman propped himself up on his elbow, watching the couple with an impish grin.

Stan folded the paper with his target up and shoved it into his pocket.

“I'll tell you if it's bullshit when I get back,” Stan promised, but he doubted anyone was listening.

~~~~

Stan wasn't sure how the ramshackle building was still standing. The roof sagged and pieces of the siding were missing. A clear plastic replaced some of the broken window panes. One good storm could probably topple the whole house over.

Stan watched as a family of opossums crawled out from inside the trunk of a rusted out car in the lawn. He sidestepped around them as they marched towards the back of the house. Like all other living creatures, the animals didn't actually see him, nor could they have interacted with him unless Stan wanted them too. Which, given the fleas and ticks and mud on the vermin's fur, Stan was more than alright with.

He stole a breath and started towards the front door when it swung open, slamming against the siding.

“Fucking bitch!” A man yelled as he stormed out.

“Yeah, just go, you drunk bastard! Don't even think about coming back here!” A woman screamed.

“Fuck you!” The man snapped as he left the front lawn.

“Fuck you!” The woman replied just as angrily before slamming the door.

Stan shook the shock from himself before he made his way up the walk. He paused a moment to look the way the man went. The man had already disappeared down the road to town. Stan knew he was too old to be the Kenny he was looking for, so he didn't dwell on him long.

He walked through the front door into a messy living room. The woman sat on the ripped couch, a cigarette dangling from her mouth and her forehead in her hand. She took a shuddering breath then grabbed for the purse on the low coffee table and began to dig through it. After a moment she had a pair of car keys in her hands.

Stan watched as the woman stood. She ran her hands through her hair and shouted, “Kenny, I'm going to get your sister from art club. I'm locking the door, so if your son of a bitch father comes back, don't you dare let him in.”

From farther in the house, a voice called, “Alright, Mom.”

She walked right past Stan and out the door. He wondered if she planned on driving the rusty opossum car or not, but didn't look out the window to check. He had a job to do, after all.

The voice from a moment ago came from down the hall, so Stan wandered that way, standing tall and imposing with his scythe in hand and hood pulled down to shadow his eyes.

If nothing else, at least Stan looked the part of the grim reaper.

There were three rooms down the hall. The first room must have belonged to the parents, one bed in the middle of the room, pictures of the what Stan assumed were their children on the walls. Clothes and empty beer cans littered the floor.

The next room Stan peeked into was the daughter’s. Posters of whatever teenybopper star was popular covered the pink painted walls. Somewhere under the pile of cheap stuffed animals, there had to be a bed, Stan assumed.

As Stan turned to leave the room, he heard a coughing. He froze a moment as the coughing began to comingle with wheezing.

‘Asphyxia’ The paper had said.  That was how Kenny died. Stan suppressed a shutter. Reaper or not, he hated actually seeing the death occur. He could handle the aftermath, but watching the life fade from the living’s eyes made him uneasy.

He idled outside the door until the house fell silent then phased in.

The room looked completely normal for a nineteen-year-old from a hick town: Playboy foldout tacked to the wall, clothes on the floor, a messy bed. The only thing Stan wouldn’t expect to find normally was the corpse laid out across the desk and the soul standing behind it.

“Kenny McCormick,” Stan announced, raising his scythe just enough to be threatening, “I have come to escort your soul to the after--”

“Oh, hey, you’re new,” Kenny commented warmly. “Gimme just a second here.” He began to pat his pockets. “Mine taking off the hood, by the way? It’s too dreary for a Wednesday afternoon.”

“I'm keeping it on.” Stan held his ground, gripping his scythe tighter. “We need to get going.”

Kenny pulled a piece of paper and pen from his pocket. He set it down on the desk and began to write as he spoke, “What? Got a hot date?”

“What? I--no!” Stan scowled. “I don’t want to waste time.”

“The dead can’t waste time. That’s kind of the point.” Kenny quipped. With a flourish, he held out the paper. “Here. Since you’re in such a hurry.”

“What’s this?” Stan shifted his scythe to one hand before taking the paper.

“Your form?” Kenny raised an eyebrow then shook his head. “Goddamnit. I get your assignments are mostly random and all, but I wish they’d assign one person to me so I don’t have to keep explaining this.”

“Explain what?” Stan narrowed his eyes. “Is this how you keep cheating death?” He waved the paper around. “Faking forms?”

“I’ve never cheated a reaper.” Kenny scoffed, then walked around to Stan’s side before jabbing his finger at the symbol in the corner of the paper. “You can’t take my soul. See here? The Big Man’s authorization and everything.”

Finally, Stan took a closer look at the paper. The color drained from his face. No doubt, that was The Big Man’s seal in the corner. Stan quickly scanned the form for before looking back up in shock.

“You’re immortal?” He asked, his jaw hanging open.

Kenny nodded. “Uh-huh.” He strolled back to his corpse. “Watch this.” Before Stan could stop him, he raised his hand and slapped the back of his body. A flash of white light blinded Stan for a moment. As he blinked the stars from his vision, a coughing filled the room. Kenny, back in his body, sat up straight in his chair, beating at his chest, until a spittle-covered bone came flying out of his mouth.

“There we go,” Kenny mumbled. He kicked back his chair before reaching under the desk. A moment later, he set two soda cans on the desktop. He cracked one open and chugged nearly half of it in one go.

“I...I don’t get it.” Stan pushed back his hood to get a better look at his assigned target. Kenny was thin and a touch shorter than average. He had a thin nose and faint freckles across his cheeks. His hair was a mess of straw that sat atop his head.

In all regards, there was nothing remarkable about him. Nothing that on first glance would make anyone think this person was an immortal.

Kenny sent Stan a sympathetic smile. “Long story short, some local elder god cult cursed me when I was little. I can’t die. It’s a pain in the ass for everyone, so  to make things a little more streamlined for you reapers, it was made so I would just have one of those forms on my soul at all times.”

Stan shook his head. “Why have us come at all? What’s the point if you’re just going to come back to life?”

Kenny looked around the floor of his desk as he spoke. “It’s not always this easy. Sometimes my body is way too fucked up to easily fix, so I have to go to the world you reapers live in until my body regenerates.”

“I’ve never seen you around before.” Stan furrowed his brow.

“Yeah, well,” Kenny dropped out of his chair to his knees, “once when I was, like, seven, I snuck into a file room and got to playing with a rubber stamp and important papers. I got both chewed out and my privilege to wander around your world revoked.”

Stan frowned. He vaguely remembered hearing about something like that from some of the reaper veterans. A little kid screwing around once caused a huge mess up in deaths and life expectancies. It apparently took nearly two years to get everything back in order and was the reason children had to be accompanied by an adult at all times in the head office.

Kenny popped back up from the side of his desk, smiling proudly. Hopping to his feet, he dropped a red and white paper bucket onto the desktop. Stan raised an eyebrow, stepping closer.

“The Colonel's best,” Kenny explained, gesturing to the fried chicken. “Been saving my nickels and dimes for weeks to afford it. You can have some if you’d like. Don’t worry, I’ll take the one I knocked onto the floor.” He grabbed a breast from the top, blowing a small ball of lint off it.

Stan eyed the bucket for a moment then shrugged. He deserved something for coming all the way to Earth, after all, so he reached into the bucket.

The moment his hand fell on the thigh piece, he let himself become corporeal. Instantly, gravity took hold, and he dropped the inch from the floor down.

It had been ages since Stan had eaten food from this world, and damn, he forgot how good it could be. It took most of Stan’s restraint not to greedily chow down on the thigh. Kenny watched him with an amused expression half-hidden behind his breast piece.

“Soooo,” Kenny stretched out the word, “You’re kind of young to be a reaper. I always thought you were all older people.”

Stan swallowed, absentmindedly wiping his mouth on his robe sleeve. “No, this is the normal age most of us start. I’ve been reaping for about year now.”

“What’s it like? Is it hard?” Kenny pulled a sliver of white meat from the breast and dropped it in his mouth. “I know there are different kinds of reapers, but they don’t tell me much otherwise.”

“Yeah, I’m just a normal reaper. I lead adults who die of natural causes to the next world for processing. It’s an alright gig. I’d rather this than be one of those guys who has to deal with murder victims or children.”

Kenny shuttered. “I had to stay in the office of one of those kid reaper guys until I was sixteen. He had clown pictures all over and made these really shitty jokes. I really hated that guy.”

“Yeah, most of us try not to talk to him much,” Stan admitted with a shoulder raise. “I have a friend who is a way better comedian than him anyway. I’m not missing much.” Stan paused a beat then asked, “So, do you have friends? Or are you just, uh--”

“A brooding loner suffering from his cursed life or torment?” Kenny grinned. “Nah, I’m a people person.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket and began to fiddle with it. “I’ve got lots of friends. Like this guy.” With greasy fingers, Kenny pointed to the phone.

A photo had been pulled up of another young adult with his eyebrows up in surprise and half the cheese and toppings from a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth.

“That’s Kyle,” Kenny explained. “He’s an old friend, loyal, morally good, and has some weird sixth sense going on, so he can see you reapers too. He gives me a heads up every now and again so sometimes I know death is coming.”

Stan took the phone and eyed the photo a moment. Humans with sensitivities to the supernatural weren’t uncommon, but usually, their abilities were weak and very limited. To be able to actually see reapers was extraordinarily rare.

Maybe it had something to do with all the oddities that happened around South Park.

“That must make things easier,” Stan replied as he returned the phone.

“Hell yeah, it does.” He leaned back in his chair. “You can sit on the desk if you want. I don’t care.”

Stan shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, it’s not that comfy.” Kenny dropped the remains of his chicken next to the bone he’d choked on. “Or, so I’ve been told. I’m not the one who's bent over it, if you know what I mean.”

Stan nearly burst out laughing when he saw the wink Kenny gave him. He coughed into his elbow to cover his unprofessional snickers before he placed his bones next to the others. He rubbed his hands off on the inside of his robes. When he got back, he’d have to send them in to be cleaned. He’d write it off as an accident, so the guys down in dry cleaning can’t make fun of him for wasting time chatting with his target.

“I need to head back.” Stan let himself slipped back into the realm of intangibility and returned to floating above the ground. “Thanks for the chicken, dude.”

Kenny shot him a finger gun. “No problem. You’re fun to talk to, uh...”

“Stan.” He filled in.

“Stan.” He nodded back. “You’re fun to talk to, Stan.”

Stan moved towards the door, only to pause a moment. He took a breath before turning back.

“Hey, next time you die for a while, you can ask for me to watch you if you want.”

Kenny’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“Yeah, you know, if I’m at the base, you can sit with me and my friends while we do our work. I doubt any of them will mind.” Stan smiled.

Kenny’s entire face lit up in delight. For a moment, Stan was sure he was going to leap from his chair and try to hug him, but Kenny remained seated, though he seemed to shake with excitement.

“Dude, that would be great! I’ve only ever seen the main offices before. Thank you!” He ran his fingers through his hair several times seemingly just to do something with his hands. It was an adorable action, and Stan felt his heart flutter just a bit.

Pulling his hood back up, Stan hoped his cheeks remained the same color. He opened his mouth to speak again when something rattled the window, making both of them jump.

“Kenny! Kenny!” The man from before, presumably Kenny’s father, beat at the window. “Open up!”

Kenny rolled his eyes, then sent Stan an apologetic smile. Stan waved his hand dismissively. His own father used to do the same thing after his parents' divorce. If Kenny was anything like him in the matter, then it was best to not make a big deal about it.

“I’ll leave you to him,” Stan said, back stepping towards the door.

“Yeah, bye, Stan. It was awesome to meet you. I’ll probably be seeing you soon enough.” Kenny gave a small wave so that his father couldn’t see it from the window. He then spun around his chair and yelled, “No, Dad. Mom’s pissed. You’re in the dog house tonight.”

Stan smiled to himself as he left Kenny. A selfish hope that Kenny would die enough to visit his world and stay with him crossed his mind. He entertained the idea as he walked back through the messy house. Kenny seemed like a genuinely nice person, especially given his circumstances. Just about anyone else Stan knew would have laid right into the brooding immortal stereotype, himself included.

Stan continued to think about his new, immortal, friend all the way back to the reaper world.

~~~~~

AN:  The fic I wrote for the Spooky!verse theme (tomorrow's) deals with death and deeper things like that already, so I didn't feel like writing more of that, so I decided to play loose goosey with the theme. Which everyone should get used to because I did that for pretty much ALL of the fics I wrote for Creek-Week next week.