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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

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Love in a Fiery Place or Hot and Bothered

Summery: Lisa tries matchmaking. Never let her matchmake. See my (shamlessly self promoted) other fic, Just like Fire, for who the heck Volcana is.

It's been months since Lisa had seen her brother or Mick ever since they went on their time travel, earth saving mission and she was bored.

Sure she had pulled off her share of heists and gone on a few dates with her favorite, babbling engineer but jewelry and sex had it's perks for so long. Especially with Cisco having a job.

She really needed a hobby, but one evening after too much beer and watching Love Actually on Netflix she thought of a brillant idea.

Matchmaking!

She could matchmake someone she knew and watch them act all blushy and idiotic. It would be definitely entertaining.

She could match up her brother, but Lenny would never go for it. Besides she couldn't exactly see her brother in an attractive way. The guy made cold puns and read Kant during his spare time. Who would go for such a nerd like that!

But Mick. Mick was an equally challenging prospect with his unhealthy obsession with fire, alcoholic tendencies and general unpredictablness. But there were lots of the pyros in the world, she just had to find one who would be willing to date him.

Unfortunately that was a lot harder than she thought.

After checking most dating sites, she found that most Pharos were either dead, in jail, old or jailbait or that they weren't super into it. Just a few trash can fires.

She needed someone who would be just as willing to burn a building down.

So she had to up the search a notch. And what better way was to hack into S.T.A.R. Labs. More specifically, Cisco accessing into S.T.A.R. Labs.

"Please..." Lisa pouted.

"No no no. I'm not helping you find MICK of all people a date,” Cisco protested.

"Why not? Don't you believe in love conquers all? You redeemed me,” Lisa purred.

"Hardly." Cisco snorted.

"Very true, my corrupt little scientist," Lisa smiled, leaning over his chair and basically falling into his lap. "But love could get him off the crime paths he's been on.”

"Then he can fall in love with a psychiatrist. Putting him with another pyro will only cause more crime." Cisco stammered as Lisa caressed his long hair

"Pyros can handle pyros. Psychiatrists are suicidal and it won't do any good if the girl dies of fear after two dates." Lisa pouted again, bringing her lips closer to his, ending with a nice smoldering kiss.

Plus three more after that.

"Umm what we're talking about?" Cisco asked dazedly coming up for air

"Files. I'm not going to let this go Cisco. I always get what I want,” Lisa smirked

Cisco paused, "If I do this, I'M choosing the movie and the restaurant for our date."

"Fine! We'll go to that disco bar." Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Alright!" Cisco started humming Bees Gees as he typed away on the computer for pyro meta criminals.

"There's none. That's impossible. There really aren't ANY pyros in Central City besides Mick?l Lisa cried

"Guess they didn't want to steal his gimmick," Cisco shrugged, looking relieved

"Do you think there are any in the Starling city?" She asked "Don't know, it's more mercenary and assassins then metas." He answered

"Maybe there are fire aliens?" Lisa thought out-loud,

"Only Earth 3,” Cisco shook his head.

"Earth Three?" Lisa froze.

"Shit!” Cisco eyes widened "No, no, no. That's just some crazy dream I had. There's no such thing as Earth Three is like there being Earth Two. Totally stupid" Cisco babbled

"Take me." Lisa demanded Cisco started taking off his shirt.

"I like how your mind works. But no. Take me to Earth Three. Tell me all about it. Are there really such things as fire aliens?" Cisco groaned

"I'll do it myself. You know I will. So you can come help or I'll trash this place doing it myself" Lisa insisted

"We are so lucky that Caitlin and Flash are out today" Cisco groaned again "Yaaas"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- They had entered to Earth Three just as Supergirl finished saving a bus full of children. Once the reporters left, Cisco introduced himself and her as friends of the Flash. Lisa explained her mission to help Mick find love.

Supergirl had been just as convinced as Cisco at the idea that love redeems but with a lot of wheedling and encouragement about second chances, Supergirl had allowed the idea of helping them.

"I think I know the girl perfect for Mick" Supergirl explained enthusiastically as they walked to the government building, DEO. "Claire Selton, code name Volcana. Born with pyrokenesis and trained to be a weapon by the government. She went rouge on them and used her powers to steal and cause crime. Superman had to put her on a deserted island in hopes not to harm any more civilians. But stay here. I'll be back soon." She left them in a plain white room, suitable for a noir style interrogation scene and waited. Five minutes later, Supergirl was back with a young thirty year old. The girl in question had long flaming orange hair that reached to her ankles in a messy braid. Her tan skin glowed brightly against her white bikini, her ambers eyes sparked with confusion and annoyance.

"No" Claire hissed, sitting down on the table. Lisa noted with pleasure that the metal table steamed and let out drifts of smoke when Claire touched it.

"No what?" Cisco asked. "Supey told me what you want. My answer is no. I am not going to a totally different Earth for a guy I never even met. What is this? 1689? Supergirl take me back to the island I am missing my afternoon tanning" she demanded. "Oh oh well that's understandable but did Supergirl mention that this guy has a heat gun that radiates about 220 tons of fire power in a single shot" Lisa rattled off. "It's 225 tons of fire power btw. Plus how many guys here can say they burned a house for the sake of watching it burn" Cisco added. "And he's been practicing flame swallowing,” Lisa added. "Claire.." Supergirl started calmly. "It's Volcana to you.” Claire scowled.

"Volcana. You're not going to get married to him. Just one date and if you don't like it you can come back here. Besides aren't you tired of being alone in your little island?"

"I wouldn't be there if it weren't for you!" Volcana shot back.

"You were hurting innocent people!" Supergirl retorted.

"Well those "innocent people" we're hurting me. I didn't want to be a weapon but you all treat me like a bad guy because I am what I am.” Volcana ranted, flames suddenly burst from her hands.

Lisa and Cisco jumped back and Supergirl put on a defensive stance. "And he will love you for it" Lisa put in.

"We have a lot of metas. They get what it's like to be used for their powers. Now Mick will get you even more because he understands how pretty the flames are. It doesn't have to be a date, just two adults talking, fellow pyro to pyro." Cisco said

Claire glared at them in silence, contemplating. "Fine, only for the sake of watching something burn."

The three nodded eagerly at each other. --------------------------------------------------------------- Claire changed into a more appropriate outfit of red leather top and black leather pants with combat boots as they left Smallville.

"Good luck," Supergirl gave a tentative thumbs up and left.

As the three went through the portal, Lisa interrogated Claire and was pleased to find out that she and Mick had a lot in common. Love of alcohol, way too graphic descriptions of explosions and fiery deaths, and had no filter when it came to humor.

"They are practically soul mates!" Lisa whispered giddily in Cisco's ear as they left the Earth One S.T.A.R. labs to Mick's abandoned apartment.

"Oh joy," Cisco muttered sarcastically. --------------------------------------------------------- Cisco had left immediately, stating he didn't want there as a witnesses for future villainy.

Lisa settled Claire to the guest room of the apartment and waited for the boys to arrive. Claire had gotten bored so she sat down, turned on the oven and stared. Another pastime she shared with Mick. Lisa swore her face was going to break open if she smiled anymore.

Oh this was going to be so good, and if it ended badly damn it was going to be more entertaining than the firework bomb Mick had set up for April Fool's Day. Leonard and Mick arrived at 7 pm. They didn't say anything about where they had been, they were just so exhausted and about to fall asleep but Lisa insisted on keeping Mick awake, slapping his cheek the whole time as he walked to the kitchen.

"What do you want?" Mick scowled, shoving her hand away from his face. "I'm about to change your life, Mick this is Claire" Lisa introduced "Claire this is Mick.”

Leonard gave a questioning look to her but she just grinned.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me. Look however she suckered you into this I'm not interested. Leave." Mick instructed Claire.

"Aren't you a charmer? I've seen midgets more handsome than you" Claire spat.

"She's a pyro. Claire, show him" Lisa said. Claire sighed but showed off anyway by blowing a kiss as her hand spouted fire like a dragon. "Where's smoke, there's flame. That's me. Volcana" Mick just stared in awe.

"Heatwave" he lifted the gun from his belt, "Do that again, I need to try something.”

Volcana complied, Mick shot his gun at the same time and it set the table on fire, and quickly spread to the oven.

"Holy Shit!" Lisa screeched and grabbed the fire extinguisher taped to the door for emergencies like this, spraying it everywhere.

"What the hell are you two doing" Leonard yelled but the two heat villains ignored.

"Volcana huh?" Mick grinned maniacally, leaning against the charred table. "I like your heat gun. Sure could have used it on those cold Metropolis nights" Volcana flirted back, staring up at Mick. "I'll leave you to it. C'mon Lenny," Lisa shoved Leonard out the door. When she stopped by the apartment to drop off a six pack and to get her golden bra for her date with Cisco, she saw the living room an absolute mess with scorch marks in random places, a torched smoke detector on the ground, pile of clothes and the smell of smoke in Mick's room.

She was good. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The following weeks just reeked of success. Claire stopped by the apartment regularly. There was a new headline everyday as the couple started fires and explosions around Central City for their dates, and Lisa had overheard their nicknames for each other. Fireball and Spitfire.

Since it went so well she was even thinking of setting up the other Rogues like Trickster II. Maybe with some Metahumans that Cisco watched like Peek a Boo. She was once again considering setting up her brother but she had pick pocketed his phone earlier and saw that he seemed to have sort of "thing" with White Canary from his Legends team. Which prompted her to stalk any information about Sara. Purely for research, not that she wasn't worried about him getting hurt. Please Len was way too cautious for that to happen.

At the same time the success of her match had come with a price. Due to their fire kink, the two had burned Mick's room, her room, the guest room, the living room and the kitchen was beyond repair.

She had to crash at Cisco's place which was nice, but Leonard came also because his cold gun was in the threat of being torched at any second. Nor could he get any piece of quiet with the all the fire puns. "Not fun to hear them," Lisa taunted.

"That's different. Mine are clever. Theirs are just about fire and sex. Some things I do NOT need to know about my partner." "Thanks for the nightmares," Lisa sighed as a "lovely" mental image entered her head. With them crashing at Cisco's place, Leonard resigned to glaring from the love seat while she and Cisco were on the couch. It was not helping date night. So it was up to her to save the apartment.

She had entered the apartment expecting another scene of quite literal hot love but found more burning rage.

"You are weak!!!" Claire screamed, "You don't even have pyrokensis you just have a gun huh. I can start a fire whenever I want! You are nothing!" "You're just a hypocrite! Oh the government just wanted to use me" Mick mocked with a falsetto "Screw that. You're just as selfish as me. You just use your powers for petty thief but you could be better, so YOU ARE WEAK!"

"You have nothing. No brains, no strength and yet you think the world would bow to your awesomeness. And you are the most impulsive idiot I ever met. You just forge along with no regard for logic or what we are suppose to be doing on our date. Honestly what am I suppose to do with you, tell me!" "You think you're so hot. Well I'm hotter, hotter than Cold." Mick sneered.

"I thought you didn't care about that!" Claire protested.

"In the middle of sex, yeah I do." Mick retorted. "Well the TV was on, I happened to mention he was cute get over it!"

Lisa cringed, ewwww!

"You also said the same about the police officer, Scarlet, the bartender..."

"You are just jealous." Claire scoffed.

"JEALOUS! I'll freeze your ass in a place where fires die!" A loud crash sounded through the apartment followed by a explosion.

Lisa scrambled out of the apartment and never looked back. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- After that incident, Lisa rationalize it was a natural lovers quarrel and that the two would work it out, therefore there was no need to tell anyone. That because of her honest assumption it was a lover's quarrel or her pride not letting her admit that her match might not have been as successful, it was up to anyone's guess but a phone call three days later confirmed the worst case scenario.

It was the middle of the day and Lisa was online shopping using the money she stole from a heist earlier that month when Cisco called.

"Lisa, have Mick and Claire been having any trouble that you know of? Any that you feel like warning us about?" Cisco asked, calmly with a slight edge that gave Lisa a sinking feeling. Best to play it dumb.

"Uh just some spats but you know. Couples fight, they fight. Why do you ask?" Lisa chirped.

"Well you should know that you're little pet project has gone up in flames." Lisa rolled her eyes. Wonder how long he was waiting to use that pun? "Heatwave was stealing from the Central City bank when Volcana stopped by, something about how "she was better than him" and was trying to one-up his heist. Thankfully we were able subdue them both. Mick's back with the Legends and Claire was sent back to Earth Three. No one knows she came from Earth Three except you, me and the Flash. You and I are the only ones that know how she actually got here."

"All's well that ends well," Lisa weakly smiled. She could just feel him glare through the phone. "We're going to talk when I get home." ---------------------------------------------------------------- "So what are we not doing?" Cisco asked pacing in front of her as she sat on his couch.

"Match making Mick with a pyro." Lisa muttered. "And...."

"Match making Mick with anyone."

"And...."

"Match making in general." "Ever.” Cisco said. "Ever," Lisa repeated.

#goldenvibe #cisco ramon #lisa snart #the flash (2014)#golden glider #vibe #mick rory #heatwave #mentions of captain cold #reference legends of tomorrow #my fanfic #my fanfiction #hot and bothered #love in a fiery place

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cruisercrusher · 4 years

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Dicktiger week day one— birthday 🎂 🎂🎂

Dick was cold when he woke up.

Which was not a new thing. He’d been finding himself getting cold quite frequently in the last few days. March wasn’t exactly known for being the warmest of months, and he and Tiger had been steadily making their way northwards. And, being on the run was kind of just like that.

But he wasn’t cold because of the icy wind outside. Although there was a draft— these cheap motel rooms were far from five star.

The bed itself was cold.

Also not a new thing. Tiger rose early to pray at dawn, every day without fail, and always stayed up after that. Dick always tried to sleep in as much as he could. Rest so thoroughly evaded him at night, after all.

The room was cold. Again, not because of the draft. Dick lifted his head and looked around the small space, and realized he was completely alone.

He jolted, a flash of worry like lightning making him bolt upright. He almost threw himself out of bed and into his gear when halfway through the action he spotted the handwritten note on the bedside table.

Wait here.

Dick frowned. So Tiger had just left with only those instructions, not telling Dick that he was going, when he would be back or what he was doing? They were supposed to be a team. You were supposed to communicate with your teammates.

Look, he knew that Tiger didn’t like working with him. Fine, Dick didn’t need him to like working with him. But they still needed to work together.

He sighed and pushed himself out of bed anyway, knowing he probably wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep after that shot of adrenaline.

First thing Dick did was open up their med kit and dig around, looking for a painkiller. He’d woken up with another headache. It seemed like he was constantly having headaches lately, of various degrees of pain, but he kept smiling through it.

Being on the run was not fun. It never is fun. He could act like he was having fun and make jokes and poke the bear that was Tiger’s temper until he lost a finger all through it, but really, it was not fun. Between the fights and the car chases, and the bouts of banter, in the quiet moments when all they could do is keep running or try and get as much rest as they could before they start running again… everything caught up to him.

Too much had happened in the last… year? Two years? He didn’t know, his grasp on time was slipping— too much had happened that he hadn’t processed and he was paying for it now.

And moments alone were the worst of all.

Suddenly having to go off all his meds all at once because there wasn’t time to pack anything or bring anything with them other than the clothes on their backs did not help either.

Seriously did not help. In fact, Dick felt like shit.

He found a little bottle of pain meds. He shook it. It was mostly empty. He sighed again and took one. Dry. Just to spite himself.

Dick wished Tiger had told him he was going somewhere— he would have asked him to grab some Advil if he got the chance. He’d even have thrown in some puppy dog eyes and a ‘pretty please’.

Luckily, he didn’t actually have to wait that long before the door to their room unlocked from the outside and creaked open.

Tiger walked in, stone faced, but in a way that looked like he was trying hard to keep his expression blank. Even still, there was a slight furrow to his brow, that seemed to stick through his every waking moment. He was holding a box.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the other spy said upon seeing Dick sitting at the flimsy table. He walked over and set the box down on the table in front of him, then took a step back and folded his arms. “Here.”

Dick looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is this some sort of prank box? A spring-loaded clown doll isn’t going to jump out at me if I open it, right?”

Tiger scoffed. “Of course not. Just open it.”

So Dick opened it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, exactly, but it wasn’t a birthday cake.

It was a pretty typical store bought cake, with white icing and red, blue and yellow little fondant balloons decorating the top, around the fancy cursive letters that read ‘joyeux anniversaire’.

He blinked first down at the cake, then up at Tiger, a look of obvious confusion on his face. “Huh?” He said, quite intelligently if you asked him.

“It is a birthday cake.” Tiger grunted. There was a hint of red in his cheeks. He probably wasn’t expecting to have to explain himself.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dick deadpanned. “But what for?”

Tiger frowned. “It is your birthday.”

Dick blinked again. “It is? Shit, I didn’t even notice the date. Wait, how do you know my birthday?”

“It was in your file. I read it when we first were assigned partners.”

“And you remembered?” Dick smiled, and Tiger blushed harder and looked away. “And you— you got me a cake?”

“It’s customary.” Tiger grumbled. “If you don’t like it—“

“No, no! I do like it! I love it!” Dick looked back down at the cake, then at Tiger again. “I— I mean— you—“

His smile started to crack and crumble as he stammered. “You… care…?”

Tiger frowned as Dick’s whole expression started to dissolve and his eyes went distinctly glassy. Dick quickly started to wipe at the tears that pooled there, though yet to fall. “Sorry— Sorry.” He muttered. “I just— I should say thank you. This is… really nice.”

But for some reason speaking those last few words just made things worse for himself, and Dick turned away with a single, gasping sob, before Tiger could see him fall apart. Why now, he internally lamented, why do I have to have a break down now?

“Uh—“ He heard from behind him, and Dick could easily imagine the confused expression that must be on Tiger’s face. The man wasn’t exactly the emotionally supportive type, that was Dick’s job. He felt bad for making Tiger witness this mess— especially after the other spy went out of his way to do something so nice for him. Tiger didn’t deserve this.

The chair across from him scraped across the floor as Tiger pulled it out from the table, and creaked loudly when he sat down. “Richard,” he said, and Dick turned further away, hiccuping a little. “Are you… okay?”

No. Dick wanted to say. I’m not okay.

(Well if you wanted honesty that’s all you had to sayy I never want to let you down or have you go it’s BETTER OFF THIS WAY for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriend took remember when you Broke Your Foot from Jumping Out the Second floor I’m NOOOTTT OOOOKAYYY IM NOT—)

Yeah, okay.

Yeah, I’m fine, Dick also wanted to say. He didn’t know why, but he was always hesitant to tell people when he wasn’t doing alright. He never liked to burden people with his load of shit, especially not when they needed his help more.

But Tiger wouldn’t buy it for a second, and while he may not have been the emotionally supportive type Tiger also didn’t take any bullshit and wouldn’t appreciate Dick just lying to his face like that.

Though Dick was sure that absolutely no one would be convinced if they were in Tiger’s place, watching him cry his eyes out because of a birthday cake, and he tried to tell them nothing was wrong, literally through tears.

“No,” Dick said. “I’m not okay.”

Okay okay, enough of that.

“I can see that.” Tiger retorted, even though he was the one who asked in the first place. Dick decided to cut the guy some slack. He sniffed, wiped the tracks of tears off his cheeks as his (fucking annoying) crying slowed to a stop. He looked at Tiger over his shoulder.

“I… sorry, it’s just been… a rough year. A rough couple of years, actually.”

He didn’t elaborate any further. He probably didn’t need to. Tiger didn’t prompt him to elaborate. He probably didn’t need to, either. Dick suspected Tiger knew already about (most of) the shit that had made these last few years so rough. Dick didn’t know how Tiger knew, but Tiger had this way of knowing pretty much everything.

Maybe he was secretly a meta. Probably not, but maybe.

Dick turned more fully in his chair to sit in it the right way, except he pulled a foot up onto the seat to tuck his knee into his chest. He looked at the cake again. It looked, in all honesty, pretty good.

He just… wouldn’t think about the calories. He could do that much, pretty simple— eat some cake and not stress about the calories.

And if the sugar made him break out, then whatever. He didn’t care if Tiger saw him in an aesthetically imperfect state. And he knew that Tiger didn’t care about it— they’d been on the run for a hot minute and had only just a few days ago managed to get a hold of some toothbrushes. Tiger’s beard was scragglier than it usually was. Neither of their hygiene or grooming habits were exactly peak at the moment.

Besides, Dick thought with a smirk— despite the lingering wateryness of his eyes—, Tiger was into him regardless of poor hygiene and unwashed clothes, and regardless of how much Tiger insisted he hated him. Dick had caught him practically gazing longingly at his collarbones the other day— his collarbones! Dude was on a whole other level of both repression and desire if he was looking at Dick’s collarbones as opposed to his more popular assets.

But Dick appreciated that. He’d made a comment once on how frustrating it was that everyone was more focused on his ass than anything else about him, and Tiger hadn’t even glanced at his backside since. So he was a man with taste who also respected boundaries.

Also, he got me a birthday cake. He went out of his way to get me a birthday cake. That’s not really something you do for someone you hate. Dick thought, and smiled back up at Tiger, wiping away the last traces of his tears. Tiger eyed him suspiciously.

“What?”

Dick smiled wider. ��You like me.”

Tiger coughed suddenly, looking away. He glared down at the floor. “I do not! I told you before, I can’t stand you, and— and I cannot wait until I no longer have to spend even a second in your infuriating presence.”

“Yeah, yeah, blah blah you’re going to kill me someday yada yada. Why’d you get me a cake, then?” Dick teased him.

“It— well—“ Tiger stammered, something that Dick had never ever seen before. “I… wanted… I thought you would like it.” He admitted. Dick’s smile softened.

“I do like it.” He said, “Thank you.”

Then he sniffed, for some reason the tightness in his throat came back and his eyes once more looked suspiciously dewy. Tiger got a slightly constipated look.

“Don’t start crying again. Please.”

Dick laughed. “I won’t, I won’t.” He said, hoping he wouldn’t. “It’s just… been a while since anyone did something so nice for me without an ulterior motive.”

He shot Tiger a look, but it was still teasing. “You haven’t got an ulterior motive, right?” Tiger sighed.

“I wish I did. Now are you going to eat that thing or not?”

“Oh, right.”

Tiger handed him a travel fork from one of their packs, then reached back down into the pack and started rummaging around. Dick wasted no time in plunging the bamboo fork right into the cake, breaking through the icing and pulling away a generous bite of what was revealed to be chocolate cake. Tiger looked back up as Dick brought his fork up to his mouth, and stared at him incredulously, with no small amount of disgust. Dick paused.

“What?”

“You’re just going to… eat the… and not even…” Tiger searched for words. Dick shrugged with a pout.

“It’s my birthday cake, I’ll eat it however I want to.” He pushed the cake box more towards the center of the small, round table. “Want some?”

The other spy looked between Dick, the cake with the one bite taken out of it, the fork in his hand, and back at Dick.

“You can just eat from the other side. I promise you won’t catch any cooties.” Dick offered, nudging the cake forward a little more. Tiger huffed and didn’t say anything, but still took out the other fork and stabbed it almost violently into the side of the cake closest to him. Dick finally ate his bite of cake, grinning around the fork. (Wow, this is good cake.) (Just don’t think about the calories.)

‘Cooties… ridiculous.’ He heard Tiger mutter under his breath. He ate another bite of the cake, his qualms about Dick’s lack of table manners seemingly behind him. “I shouldn’t have done this. If I had known you had forgotten it was your birthday I would have just let the day pass quietly without any fuss.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Dick said it like he was teasing, but he and Tiger both now knew it was true. “Hey, you know what would make a great birthday gift?”

Tiger raised an eyebrow at him. “What, the cake wasn’t enough for you?”

“Nope,” Dick smirked. “The only thing that can satisfy me…” he paused for dramatic effect, “is a hug.”

Tiger groaned. “Absolutely not.”

Dick didn’t mean to let his face fall. He meant to brush it off with a laugh, but then his smile slipped and he couldn’t catch it before it was simply gone. Tiger noticed. Dick cringed.

It would be nice if some cake and a little bit of banter were enough to fully lift his spirits, but unfortunately it just wasn’t cutting it.

He was still cold.

Tiger sighed and stood up. Dick looked away, chewing at his lip.

(Yeah, so maybe Tiger did care, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would never exploit Dick’s moments of weakness. He was still a spy, Dick had to remind himself. He was still a spy and everything Bruce ever instilled in him was telling him not to trust him.)

(But he trusted Tiger anyway. So maybe he was an idiot, he didn’t care. He just needed to be not so all encompassingly alone in this world right now.)

Tiger rounded the table so that he was standing next to Dick’s chair, positively towering over him. “Stand up.”

“What?” Dick blinked.

“Stand up.”

Dick stood up. Tiger had been standing so close to his chair that when he did he was nearly chest to chest with the taller man, and Dick felt his heart speed up involuntarily at the proximity.

Almost as soon as Dick was on his feet, Tiger was uncrossing his arms and wrapping them around Dick instead— one arm around his back pulling him close and one hand cupping the back of his neck, and if Dick didn’t know better he’d describe it as tender. Gentle.

Tiger didn’t do tender or gentle.

So how could you explain this, then?

Dick couldn’t see Tiger’s face like this, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of sour expression he might have right now. Dick didn’t care. Tiger was— Tiger was warm, he was so warm, the heat seeping through Dick’s clothes and skin and all the way down to his bones.

He stifled a gasp and snapped his arms shut around Tiger’s back, clinging way tighter than was called for, but Tiger didn’t say anything.

Everything was going to be okay. Things sucked right now, but Dick wasn’t alone. Tiger was there, and he cared, and that was all Dick needed.

When Dick fell asleep that night, in a different but just as shitty motel room, pressed against Tiger’s side, he was warm.

#heehee #dicktigerweek #dicktigerweek2020 #dicktiger #writing #my writing #fic #my fic #will post ao3 link later #sorry im posting on mobile i will add a read more link in a bit

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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years

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Candy 18-21

oh, oh no

I’ve heard things about Jane x Gamzee

now I get to experience them, oh boy...

Gamzee gets, strangely serious about stuff for once, huh, who would have thunk it

yeah, It’s clear Jane’s political stuff seem to stem from some kind of fear that one day humanity won’t exist on Earth C for whatever reason

that over time, the population of trolls versus humans will eventually skew so much that there won’t be any adam and eve left to match up with each other

in her mind she really doesn’t hate trolls, cuz its not really about the trolls, not at all, but obviously her actions are equivalent to someone who does hate them and she just doesn’t get that

and like, yeah if you just left them to their own devices, maybe that would happen, but then (and I can’t believe I’m saying this) Gamzee has an extremely good point that they already did that when they plopped all the ectokids down and called it a day for a 1000 years, like, they managed to figure it out on their own just fine

and also

ectobiology will literally never stop being a thing so like, as long as some of the god kids stick around, eventually you can just make more humans it’s no big deal to restart the human gene pool since it will be identical to the first time they started it

there’s no reason to make sure this system runs smoothly the “natural way” it won’t, this situation is unnatural for both species

Jane’s just gotta realize that if she wants humans to keep sticking around, she just has to keep supporting the human population, that’s it, whatever trolls do or don’t do doesn’t matter for that goal

course it doesn’t help to compare trolls to animals when talking about their breeding rate and how it naturally evolved over time unlike the apparently non animal humans Janey

Also Alternian society is def not how troll society naturally is but like how could she know that? And how could any troll near her really explain that?

aaaand I got so up in taking this seriously I forget who was talking

Jane’s into troll blackrom though that’s interesting and unexpected

oh wow, Jake was there the whole time

Did they really name Jake and Jane’s baby Tavros??? oh jeesus

Yeah Kinda figured the Jane x Jake thing wasn’t gonna actually be happy

I’m really surprised Jane’s version of happiness apparently involves boinking a weird funny man I mean, she canonically likes clowns and jokes, so at the same time I’m not surprised, I mean, she WAS raised by the condesce, it’s just weird how that influence comes out in her sometimes versus how it doesn’t come out in her

literal Jake nightmare scenario though I think lol

really hammering home how the passions of youth don’t really translate well to happy adult relationships

Oh, so there’s the part where Jade reveals she has Bec biology, considering the fandom reaction you’d think we were gonna get some kind of gross M rated sex scene where she pegs Karkat or something

but all she does is talk about how she’d love a normal family and home life and lament that her circumstances ended up not really allowing that and giving enough hints that we can figure out why that would be

it’s not handled grossly at all, even if the subject matter is odd and it doesn’t come off as some sort of character sabotage

this whole time what we’ve known all Jade was that she was lonely and just wanted a family, not that hard to figure out why, girl’s got the same complex as Joey Claire about her family situation, but she’s more reserved about her feelings since she didn’t get to have a comparison of role models like Joey did with her babysitter and also Jade’s food and shelter needs were somewhat taken care by a planet guardian so the affect was somewhat lessened on the outside, she just didnt get the same chances as Joey to be able to articulate her emotional turmoil about it

aww Jade’s not happy either, well, that’s how it goes when you make relationship decisions based on flimsy passions that are more about fulfilling the needs of the self than about actually wanting good things for a partner

More like Jade’s sort of realized that Karkat and Dave don’t have a genuine romantic interest in her and she’s the only one keeping this ship afloat

oh shit, a dead younger jade, oh damn wait she’s the one from Meat that was trapped in the house juju and then immediately died from space razors

Yeah’s she’s a bloody symbol of meat that’s for sure, theyre making that pretty clear

“Her eyes go wide and she feels the breath go out of her for a moment. She looks directly upward. Where did this body come from?”

Again, if we take that symbolism circle of Breath = Sugar = Drugged up High = Breath

This little dash of meat falling into wonderland would break the breathy haze for a bit wouldn’t it?

So if this kind of thing can happen to others besides John, there’s hope yet for something of value to come from Candy

“ There’s a peaked skylight at the top of the foyer that splits the morning sun like a prism, spilling multicolored dots across every surface below. Amongst those dots are drips of teen-Jade’s blood. It’s so dark on the spotless tile that it looks nearly black. “

I wish I could draw things, I’d love to draw this exact scene here, it’s pretty and morbid

Yeah, the relationship theme of Candy seems to be that everyone’s jumping into Kismesis plus Matesprite threesomes, that seem to be neither of what anyone actually wants in totality

There’s some realization that their Candy filled atmosphere is actually more a drug or a poison, teen jade can’t be revived, and it’s not because of what happened to her, but more because of the environment she is in now

Ah Roxy, ever the social chameleon people pleaser, not working this time though

Jade’s is easily explained already as she has the social graces of an elephant

It is kinda sad tho to see most of the human characters actually aren’t that good at being cool about troll stuff

“CALLIOPE: pUrple roses traditionally represent love at first sight, however these roses are actUally red roses that we prepared Using a blUe dye.CALLIOPE: the blUe rose is the most elUsive and mysterioUs of all flowers.CALLIOPE: the combination of red and blUe in this context is meant to evoke the dUal natUre of death, in that there is nothing more mysterioUs and impossible to comprehend than the vast void of the afterlife, bUt also there is nothing that makes Us appreciate the life and and love that we already have than the mystery of death.CALLIOPE: while death is terrifying, there is always joy to be foUnd among the sorrow. each time we witness death, we fall in love with the important people in oUr lives all over again.“

Why do I get the feeling Calliope is talking about actual rose here somehow?

Is it because she started off with “here’s the symbolism of Purple Roses”?

a Red Rose dyed Blue

Now if Cascade taught us anything Blue and Red certainly represent a mutual destruction of opposites coming together to create a third new thing in the blaze of the aftermath, but that thing was a Green Sun, not something purple, so why bring Rose into mind for all of this?

We have been seeing the effects of what happens when people in candyland awaken from their drug haze with a smattering of blood, but in that case why not make the symbolism more clear by saying a Blue Candied Rose dyed Red as if with Bloodied Meat?

is it more to mean that the correct path lies NOT in Candy being dyed Red, but in Meat being dyed Raspberry Blue?

I Mean, Candy!Rose certainly seems shaken here, having gotten jolted out of her drugged haze at some point, but unable to See, and she’s actually starting to be concerned about that and Meat!Rose is kind of out of commission at this point, So I guess to get things back on track, Candy!Rose would have to go back to the Meat somehow, or might be the influence needed to snap Meat Rose out of her daze

Though I don’t like how this is taking place in the context of a funeral, specifically bringing to mind how Dirk did the same thing using the vessel of Death, I hope Candy Rose doesn’t try to just, off herself

with Dirk taking control of Rose’s ultimate self in Meat, Candy!Rose might be the only true Rose left to take heroic action

Aww, Callie is still head over heels for Roxy, I’m really surprised with this theme of threesomes that nothing ever came of a John x Roxy x Callie, but then again all the threesomes so far have been painted Black and Red, and unless John or Roxy was to form a Kismesis with Callie, I don’t see it happening at all

OH SHIT SPEAKING OF RED AND BLUE

Damn, Sollux and Aradia are here

“KARKAT: MAYBE FUCKING NEPETA IS ABOUT TO POUNCE FROM BEHIND THAT GROTESQUE STATUE OF THE HUMAN SUFFERER T-POSING OVER THERE.”

Karkat don’t tease me about Nepeta but also again WHY is actual Jesus here.

Is Roxy a christian in this timeline? Was she legit just praying to actual Human Jesus? That’s so, weird, especially for Roxy to do, what the fuck in Roxy’s upbringing on an apocalypse earth would make her want to worship Jesus?

Oh wait, that’s obviously what she thinks that every other human sincerely does, since she only had human media to go off of, and like, technically no human has ever said they DONT worship christian gods to her.

“GAMZEE: wHeN tHe DoOr Of ThAt FrIdGe pOpPeD oPeN iT wAs LikE i Be AlL sEeIn ThE lIgHt AnD sHiT.

SOLLUX: well yeah

SOLLUX: that’s what happens when s0me0ne 0pens a d00r t0 a t0tally dark encl0sure.“

Gamzee has had a weirdly meta understanding of what’s going on so far, for some reason, I can’t fathom what could be the Lighty influence that he’s gotten

unless...

Dirk really IS starting to subsume Ultimate Rose, and that’s bleeding over to every Ultimate self connected to Dirk

the more Gamzee knows meta shit and says oddly correct things, the more we know Dirk is “winning” over Rose

Oh, that’s why Gamzee is really here isn’t he? I mean, storywise? He’s a Dirk thermometer/gauge/thing, he’s our way of measuring how far Dirk’s influences are going in Meat

“ARADIA: its so nice that you believe all that gamzee

ARADIA: i think i can honestly say

ARADIA: im reasonably happy for you?“

lol

“blue smoke”

You don’t really tend to describe Smoke as being Blue right? At least, I don’t think that’s usual

But if we’re straight up associating Candy with Blue to complement Meat with Red now, it’s just making the whole Sugar = Breath thing that much stronger

*EDIT* DUH OF COURSE OF CANDY’S COLOR IS BLUE

BLUE GUSHERS. OBVIOUSLY. *end edit*

and I mean, what is Breath but a weird bluey smoke?

Roxy just wants to be happy with all her friends, that’s all

It is a good shake at trying to explain the nature of infinite possibility, that in reality, there isn’t really more weight put into one possibility over others, that’s how it works in real life anyway

unfortunately a storyline of canon is going to favor some version of events over others, and people make choices because they have preferences for that choice over other choices, something that seems kind of lost on Candy!Roxy who seems to just be okay with going along with anything because everything has an equal chance for having happytimes in this place

Roxy may be starting to lose her sense of self as well, and with her knowledge on things and how’s she’s been described as immutable so far, I wouldn’t be surprised at her having easily and subtly slipped into Ultimate Self hood herself and just being really okay with the idea that there is no one true Roxy, that she is just one piece of many, and not like, needing to delve into that further, not needing to connect with all her alternate selves, happy just being singular but at the same time completely malleable

Oh! Baby time.

Oh fuck, Al!Calliope in Jade time.

Why is Callie so afraid of Alt!Callie? That didn’t come across in their meetings in Homestuck as much, so why is that different here?

Is it because of Jade’s earlier comment of “there can only be one instance of a person here” and Callie doesn’t think she can win against Alltie?

Also, all these instances of Alltie appearing in Jade’s body is making me worried Alltie is doing something to both of their Ultimate Selves, like she’s subsuming Jade somehow like Dirk is subsuming Rose

I mean, they are fighting one another, so if Dirk’s doing something she has to keep pace right? In her mind, it’s probably totally justified

this is getting long enough for this post though, off we go again but I’m still reading

#Homestuck #Meat or Candy

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bkwrm523 · 5 years

Text

Logical Deductions

Title: Logical Deductions Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Brainiac 5/reader Word Count: 1829 Warnings: emotional whump, angst, no smut. Tags: @mysupernaturalfics @cookingglitterfairy @kittenofdoomage @medicatemedrmccoy @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @mrswhozeewhatsis @daughterofthebrowncoats Summary: Brainiac 5 is facing imminent danger, and the reader makes a decision to protect him.

Querl Dox awoke in an instant.

The back of his head hurt, and memories came back to him immediately.

He’d been about to plug himself into the system, ready to fight his ancestor. Delay him so the others could shut down the power station. The fight would most likely kill him. What he hadn’t told his friends, was that there was an 82% chance that his ancestor would infect him, turning him into Brainiac. If Querl had told them that, there was a 92% chance that his friends would try to stop him. This way was better. That had been the plan; until Y/n had hit him on the back of the head and knocked him out.

There was a pole buried in the ground, extending up through the ceiling. It had been buried in a wall, but the building was old and abandoned, and the wall had begun to crumble, exposing the pipe. Brainy woke up to find his hands bound with a pair of meta dampening cuffs, locking him to the pole in the wall. There were two enormous metal cylinders in the room, maybe five feet in diameter, and they were almost the height of the ceiling. They were sitting in the middle of the room, next to each other. In between them, was the control console for the power plant. Designed by Brainiac, it had two railings in front of it on either side, maybe four and a half feet off the ground. The computer was high enough in the air that it was clearly designed for the user to stand at it. There were two monitors; one at the computer, and another higher and off to the side. The second simply held a display showing the power level on the building’s reactor.

Y/n stood at the station, wires running to her head and blood flowing out of the holes they’d made in her skull. She stood with her back to him, facing the power station, her hands resting on the rails. Querl could see the display for the power levels; a quick analysis showed that Y/n’s fight was not going well. The loading bar was clearly labeled, 25% overload. When it reached 100%, it would explode. It dropped to 24%, then 23… it kept falling. She was losing.

“What are you doing?” Querl demanded. A stupid question. He could clearly see what she was doing. The loading bar had fallen to 21%. “No, no. That’s obvious. I meant-I meant why?” Querl’s voice broke. He was trying to stay focused; he fought the cuffs with part of his attention, trying to find a way to get them off. If he got the cuffs off, he could stop her. He could save her.

“Y/n, you have to stop.” Querl told her, his voice even more strained. Twenty percent. His eyes started to fill with tears. He ignored them; they were a distraction he couldn’t afford. He focused more of his attention on the cuffs; there was only a 2.6% chance he would break free of them on his own, but he had to try. He had to keep trying. It was the only way he’d be able to save her.

“Y/n please!” Querl yelled, his emotional control utterly breaking down. “There is a 93% chance that this will kill you, please! Let me save you!”

Brainiac was winning. When Querl spoke, the power display suddenly stopped falling. Y/n was trying to overload it, but Brainiac was pushing the loading bar back into normal parameters. But then, it stopped at twenty percent. Twenty one percent. Twenty two.

“You can hear me.” Querl said aloud, amazed. “There was less than a one percent chance you’d be able to… Y/n! There’s still time! Please, I can do this! Brainiac, my ancestor will kill you! I can save you, please!” Tears fell from his eyes, his face distorted in pain. His last attempt to break free from the cuffs failed, and all he could do was watch.

Y/n’s ears were bleeding. But the power display started rising again. She was gaining ground on Brainiac. Thirty percent. Thirty five. Fourty.

“Y/n, you- you’re doing it.” Querl said. “You’re succeeding. But - Y/n please! I don’t want to watch you die, I can’t!” The power display was above 50%. She was halfway to succeeding.

“Brainy!” Querl’s com came back online, and he heard Supergirl’s voice in his ear. “If you can hear us, you’re almost there! It’s working!”

“Supergirl!” Querl exclaimed, his hands yanking at the cuffs again in an effort to move. “I can hear you because I’m not doing it. Y/n, she - she knocked me out and plugged herself in.” He was sobbing now, and his tears were audible in his voice, strained with anguish. Sixty three percent. Sixty five.

“What?!” Supergirl demanded.

“Supergirl, please, you have to help me.” Querl demanded. “She chained me to the wall so I would be unable to prevent her. There is a 93% chance that this will kill her! You must free me so I can save her!”

“I- I can’t, Brainy. I’m sorry. I can’t get away!” Supergirl replied, her voice almost as anguished as Querl’s. Seventy percent. Seventy four.

“Brainy, it’s Alex.” Alex interjected over the comms. “Hold on, I’m on my way.”

“Please, hurry.” Querl begged, his eyes fixed on the power display. “She’s at 80%, there’s little time.”

“Y/n, please.” Querl tried again, begging her. “I don’t want to lose you, I can’t! Please don’t do this!” Eighty five percent. Eighty eight.

The display reached 99%. Alex still hadn’t come.

“It’s too late.” Querl said into the comms. “She’s going to do it.”

“No!” Alex exclaimed. “Hold on, I’m almost there.”

Back in the room Querl was trapped in, Y/n started screaming. The display hit 100%. There was a wave of static energy that swept through the room, and half the equipment exploded. Y/n’s hands suddenly released their tight grasp on the railings. Querl hardly dared to breathe, terrified to discover what Y/n’s state was.

His worst fears were realized when she fell lifeless to the ground. Querl screamed, openly sobbing.

Alex kicked in the door. She was over to Querl in a moment, releasing his cuffs. The moment he was free, he scrambled over to Y/n, tears dropping on her body as he frantically checked her for signs of life.

“Why did you do that?!” Querl demanded. “I could have done it, you didn’t need to die. Why did you do that?!”

“Brainy,” Alex tried to get his attention, yelling over the sound of equipment exploding. “This place is coming down. We have to go!” Alex put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him despite the chaos of their surroundings. “We can get her help, but we have to get out of here.”

***

You awoke slowly.

You were lying in a bed, surrounded by softly beeping medical equipment. You looked around you, taking stock of your surroundings and trying to figure out where you were. A hospital? Unlikely; hospitals all tended to look similar. Your room was too large, maybe ten or fifteen square feet. The walls and floor were all black. There were no chairs for visitors to sit in, and no tables. The room only contained you and the medical equipment.

Behind you, just then, a door flung open, slamming against the wall with such force, that the noise startled you. In a moment, Brainy was next to your bed, hovering anxiously. His image inducer was back on, showing you an anxious human looking brunette.

“Y/n! You’re awake!” Brainy exclaimed. He moved to the various medical equipment, pushing buttons and peering at the screen. You didn’t speak, waiting patiently for him to finish his analysis of your condition.

“Brainy!” Alex exclaimed, power walking quickly into view and giving the Coluan an exasperated look. “I told you to wait!”

“It was unnecessary.” Brainy replied. “I was able to arrive here with much more efficiency than you, and I have already-”

“Brainy, I told you she’s fine.” Alex interrupted him, joining him at your bedside.

“Yes, and I am now verifying that assumption.”

You had to fight the urge to giggle. Brainy was anxious about you, and driving Alex up the wall. It was adorable to witness.

“There, you see?” Alex finally told Brainy. “I told you she was fine.”

“So it would seem.” Brainy replied. “Y/n has defied the odds again.” He spun, leaning over your bed and brushed the hair out of your face. “Why did you do that?” He demanded, his voice and hand gentle, almost as though he was afraid you’d break. Behind him, Alex quietly moved and left, giving you two some privacy.

“It’s fine, Brainy.” You said dismissively, looking away from him. “It turned out all right. You heard Alex, I’m gonna be fine.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have access to that information at the time.” Brainy replied. You glanced back at his face, trying to stare at his thoughtfully furrowed brow, and not the emotion filling his eyes. “You could have died.” His voice broke a little at the last sentence, and your heart broke hearing his pain.

“So could you.” You told him bluntly, meeting his eyes with determination. “I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“There was only a 2% chance of your success, and a 93% chance that just trying would kill you.” Brainy recited, admonishing you. “You almost died. We-” his voice broke then, and he paused before trying again. “I almost lost you. Why did you do that?!”

“I just…” you tried to answer, and your voice died in your throat. You looked away, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze anymore. “I guess I didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have you in it. I couldn’t let him hurt you.” You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself and looking away. There was a long moment, an eternity of a couple seconds of silence.

Then, you felt his hand on the back of your head, turning you to face him. You had a moment or two to react, to push him away, before he kissed you. He dove into the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He poured all of his emotion into it; love, admiration, fear that he could have lost you…

He leaned into the bed, resting his other arm on the pillow next to your head and half lying on you. You whimpered a little, trying to lean up into him.

He broke from the kiss, leaning his forehead against you, reveling in just being near you.

“When you are feeling better, I would very much like to see you romantically.” Brainy murmured, boring his eyes into yours. You laughed a little, your smile making him smile back at your joy.

“I’d like that, too.” You replied.

#querl dox #brainiac 5 #querl dox/brainiac 5 #querl dox/reader #brainiac 5/reader #querl dox x reader #brainiac 5 x reader #brainy #brainy/reader #brainy x reader

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partsofthemachine · 5 years

Note

For the meta memes: one of the Umbrella Academy kids + your saddest Thought about them.

I feel like you know me well enough to know that this was going to be just a big wall of sad that I’m mostly putting under the cut.

The Hargreeves in General: Empathy is a learned behavior and it’s not one that Reggie the Dick put a lot (or any) time and effort into teaching his children. So for the most part they learned how to be empathetic and how to communicate with other people from TV It’s the primary reason their communication with each other is so strained and assholeish; because no one TV cares about real emotions. And you just have theses seven people who barely know how to name their own emotions much less deal with each other’s emotions.

Also, the fact they learned communication from TV is a large part of the reason they refer to each other by nicknames like “bro” and “sis.” It’s very common on TV, and decidedly less so in the real world where you’re not constantly establishing your relationship for an audience. The even sadder part of that is that they just didn’t have names until they were 13, and then it was only on the advice of a PR team. In a lot of ways, their numbers feel like their actual names and their names feel like affectionate nicknames which is also why they never shorten them. (For example, it’s always Allison and never Ally.)

Luther: Honestly? Luther has always known on some level that everything Reggie put him through was complete and total bullshit. There’s really no way around it. He knows what he went through, he saw what his siblings went through. And all of it is bullshit. But Luther has to psych himself up and convince himself that it’s for the greater good, that there is a reason for all of this because otherwise it’s just his father wasting his entire life. And it’s him being too afraid to ever step out that door without a mission, without a plan and start any sort of life.

Naturally, his depression from this sort of isolation and arrested development was at its worst on the moon. It started very early when he could no longer convince himself that the “care” packages coming late or short on food wasn’t a simple mistake but a sign of how little Reginald actually cared about Luther or the “mission.” In order to convince himself that it mattered, that he had to get out of bed every morning, Luther named the plant he was studying Ben because he just fucking misses his dead brother and because he has a lot of guilt over how Ben died. Ben the plant didn’t survive the trip back to earth and, in a lot of ways, neither did Luther’s motivation to keep going. If he hadn’t been thrown immediately into mission mode (the funeral, the murder mystery, the Apocalypse), there’s a good chance he just would’ve stopped doing anything.

Diego: The deep, dark truth is that Diego feels like he’s the least essential person in the Academy. Throwing knives and holding his breath are not particularly useful powers. No one needs him in a fight, and certainly not as much as he needs to be in the fight. As much as he thrives on fighting, on being constantly in motion, on moving towards some nebulous something. Honestly, he genuinely believes that if he stops moving, stops fighting, he’ll just break.

That’s also why, even if he’s not the best at showing it, Diego is the one most concerned with his other siblings’ mental health. He’s aggressive and loud and even violent about it, but he is doing is level best to try and check in with Luther and Klaus (and Vanya that one time but he made her cry and run away). Because his brothers stopped and it broke them. And maybe he can fuel all that driving and fight from feeling inessential into something that’s truly useful for them as a family if they’re not a team anymore.

Allison: Real talk, Allison never actually got her way with her father. That was a story her siblings concocted due to her powers: her ability to get anyone to do anything she wanted as easy as breathing. And because there was perception that Reggie went easy on her in training, that he was more lax with the rules when it came to her. From the outside looking in, with all the dark thoughts they had about each other and Allison’s casual callousness, it was easy to be convinced that she somehow got special treatment.

The painful truth, however, is that Reggie had little to no use for daughters. Allison got off better than Vanya because her power was useful and she was a more focused toddler. Because Allison has always been focused. Ambitious. She saw what she want and she went after it. And what she wanted more than anything was to be Number One. Was to come out on top. Nothing she could do, though, could dislodge Luther and Diego from their places, and she knew that her place was only safe as long as Klaus was popping pills or Five was being defiant or Ben was too soft. So Allison took that pain and frustration and disappointment out on her brothers and let them just believe she was cold and heartless and that she got whatever she wanted.

Klaus: The reason that Klaus is significantly more tactile than his siblings is because he’s genuinely not sure if they’re ghosts or not. With the sole exception of Allison, Klaus has seen every single one of his siblings as a ghost. Klaus tried opening up to Diego once and only once. But because Klaus has been consistently lying about being able to see Ben’s ghost and none of their other siblings have died, Diego convinced Klaus to check himself into a psychiatric hospital for the first time. So Klaus is just torn between thinking his siblings might be ghosts and thinking he is genuinely crazy.

For a kicker, the fact he’s never seen Allison’s ghost makes it even harder on Klaus. Of all their siblings, Allison has come the closest to actually dying in front of him. Klaus has held her while she bled out from losing her arm and from having her throat slit. And he’s never seen her ghost. Not once. When he’s most cogent about it, he thinks that it’s because Allison is a miracle, she came to the edge of death and pulled herself back. But, sometimes, Klaus convinces himself she was never real at all and that’s why she can never be a ghost, why she can never stay wit him.

Five: Okay. There’s nothing really sadder about Five’s life than what’s already explicitly canon. But, listen. I think a lot about the fact that he isn’t really a person anymore. Five has spent so many years in isolation and sacrificed so many pieces of his soul to save his siblings that he doesn’t really actually know how to function in society. And it was fine when there was an actual mission he was working towards: stopping the Apocalypse.

The real problem is when there’s no long an apocalypse to think about. He spent so many decades trying to save his siblings that he has no idea how to actually live with them. They are entirely different people than the people he left and he doesn’t know how to function living with them in the mansion. And it’s not like any of them ever learned how to meet people or make friends. So it’s just this really painful thing that everything he worked for feels futile because the people he was trying to save were gone as soon as he was. But they’re also still there in a way if he can just figure it out.

Ben: Extremely unpopular opinion time. I think Ben deeply resents Klaus. It doesn’t bubble up very often because, on the whole, he’s trying to let that stuff go. An eternity is a long time to hold onto the grudges and petty bullshit that so plague the Hargreeves’ existence. So he taught himself how to let go of hurt feelings, mostly by attending rehab and support group meetings with Klaus.

But the thing that’s hardest to let go of is the fact that Klaus lied to their siblings. For five years. Years where the only thing Ben wanted was to be able to communicate with his siblings, to check up on them, to make sure they were okay. And instead of doing this one little thing for him, Klaus tried to drug him away with all the rest of the ghosts. Klaus openly and blatantly lied to his siblings for years that he couldn’t see ghosts anymore. That he couldn’t see Ben’s ghost. It kills Ben to be so close and so far at the same time and he has a hard time forgiving Klaus for the lastest and sustained bullshit.

Vanya: I want to bring in a piece of comics canon that didn’t traumatize me as much as what Allison went through, but is still something I think about a lot. When Vanya was seventeen, she was sent to a music conservatory in Paris on her own. This was only weeks after Allison left and basically came across as Reggie was just done trying to deal with his daughters at all. Because Reggie was just trying to wash his hands of daughters.

It’s honestly a very bittersweet time for Vanya. On the one hand, she was fully immersed in the one thing she’s passionate about and actually feels good doing. But, on the other hand, it was the first time Vanya ever truly felt lonely. Because she had six siblings on top of her growing up and even though they weren’t close to her, it didn’t feel hollow and empty and painful. Her time at the conservatory was definitely the darkest her depression has ever gotten and she actually felt better just being back in the same city as most of her siblings made her feel so much better and safe in a strange way, even if they’re still separated.

#headcanons: luther hargreeves #headcanons: diego hargreeves #headcanons: allison hargreeves #headcanons: klaus hargreeves #headcanons: five hargreeves #headcanons: ben hargreeves #headcanons: vanya hargreeves #;; 'cause i've been living where the black meets the blue (luther hargreeves)#;; i need to move i need to fight i need to lose myself tonight (diego hargreeves)#;; all the glamour and the trauma and the fucking melodrama (allison hargreeves)#;; champagne cocaine gasoline and most things in between (klaus hargreeves)#;; run boy run this world is not made for you (five hargreeves)#;; well you can never know the places that i go (ben hargreeves)#;; you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece (vanya hargreeves)#;; now i see you in our old home where i'm always afraid to go (the hargreeves)#| well this took a thousand years and i hurt but here we are

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i-love-coffee-ice-cream · 5 years

Text

it’s midnight and i don’t know where i’m going with this but enjoy

He spoke with an air of uncertainty. Cisco Ramon, the Central City high school alumna voted Most Likely to be a Nerd- yes, that Cisco Ramon- wasn’t sure if this was possible. Sure, he had seen other universes and had witnessed a man running at over mach 3 with his own two eyes, but this was his best friend’s safety he was risking.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, shall we? You can’t beat this guy on your own; he’s gonna kill you!” Cisco cried, jabbing his hands at an invisible something floating in the air.

“I’ve defeated worse guys than this,” Barry replied, his voice projected by the speakers of the cortex. “I just have to outrun him for a little longer! He’s getting tired and his powers can’t reach me at this speed!”

“Barry, can you just—” Cisco sighed and the irony of the phrase, given that his companion was running— “take a breather?” He wrung his hands together, pacing slightly.

Barry chuckled, his voice projected via the speakers of the cortex. “Dude, really?”

“Yes, really!” Cisco exclaimed, his eyebrows raised. “Sometimes you have to slow down and think a bit, y’know? You’re acting impulsively. Iris’ll get mad if she hears of this.”

Cisco heard a dramatically drawn-out sigh, and then-

Barry appeared in a blur of yellow lightning, standing under the arch of the cortex and panting a bit. His hands were on his hips and he tilted his head a bit, almost like a dog. “Okay, fine,” he complied, “but I’m only stopping because I don’t want her freaking out.” He took off his gloves and set them on the top of a computer.

“What’s this? Who’s freaking out?” a voice from the doorway questioned. Barry wheeled around, facing the source of the voice.

“Ah, Dr. Caitlin Snow!” Ramon sang with a sly smile plastered across his face. “How lovely to see you! Now, what are you doing this fine morn’?” He bowed slightly, eyebrow raised in mischief.

“It’s the afternoon, firstly,” she replied, a minute smile cracking on her lips. She continued without giving the two a chance to respond. “Secondly, I’ve been whipping up a formula to inhibit this meta’s powers, and I think this one’ll work.”

Barry raised his eye in suspicion as Caitlin pulled up a visual onto the screen.

“This meta we’re facing has the ability to conduct nerve impulses that reach others outside of his physical form. Nerve impulses are what make your muscles move, and this meta can make others’ muscles move, much like a—”

“—a Puppeteer!” Cisco interrupted her, eyes alight. “Yup, still got it,” he gloated, obviously proud of his meta-naming skills. He tucked a few tufts of hair behind his ears.

“Yes, a puppeteer.” Caitlin picked up where she had left off, pressing a key on the computer to further advance the diagram on the screen. “However, nerve impulses can be stopped by stopping the release of neurotransmitters, inhibiting the specific receptors on the post-synaptic membrane, or inhibiting the neurotransmitters themselves.”

Barry blinked. “English, please.”

“If you stop a neurotransmitter from binding with a receptor, there won’t be any movement in a muscle,” Caitlin replied, pulling out a vial of purple liquid. “And I think this is our inhibitor.”

Cisco stepped forward, eyes bulging in interest. “Caitlin, you’re a genius!” he breathed.

“So, what do I do?” Barry asked. He, too, examined the vial.

“It’s plain and simple. Once you get this onto his skin, it’ll turn green and dilute his powers so you won’t be affected,” the doctor replied.

Cisco raised an eyebrow, backing away from the concoction. “But how will we know Barry won’t be controlled?”

“Remember when you stopped Peek-A-Boo on that rooftop a year ago? You froze her with your vibes. Do that to Puppeteer and he won’t be able to affect you or Barry,” she chirped.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Ramon paused, and then, “I’ll scan the city for electrical signals.” He walked over to the main satellite, sitting down and typing codes into the computer. It only took a second.

“Bingo!” He exclaimed, pulling up the exact location of the metahuman. “He’s at the old abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. I’ll go suit up.. It looks like you need another set of hands.” He pointed at Barry, who nodded slightly before walking out of the room.

...

In an instant, the Flash and Vibe had arrived at the warehouse, using their abilities to decrease the travel time.

“Oh, I can vibe the energy coming off of him,” Cisco whispered anxiously. “Be careful not to get too close: your lightning could make his impulses stronger.”

“Noted. Stay away from the bad guy,” nodded Barry. “Easy.”

Cisco was the one to grab the handle of the big metal door, however, he froze as soon as his fingers graced the steel. A gurgled, mangled voice came from the depths of his throat. “I can’t move, Flash, run!”

Barry acted on impulse, grabbing the vial from Cisco’s frozen hand and phasing through the door. As soon as he entered the warehouse, he saw the meta. Beads of sweat rolled from his forehead as ragged breaths escaped his lips. He was exasperated, and his powers were taking more energy out of him than he realized.

“You don’t have to do this,” Barry shouted, arms out in front of him. “You don’t have to hurt innocent people. This isn’t you.”

His reply was strained. “This is me! I was born with this anger and the explosion only rubbed it in. Now, I can let others feel the pain I felt when my life became absolutely controlled by my powers.”

Suddenly, the door opened and Cisco walked inside. He couldn’t control himself; his actions were of the Puppetmaster. His hands were lifted and placed on top of his dark curls as fear and dread filled his eyes.

“I heard Vibe here has the power to kill people. Let’s see if that works on himself! Sonic blasts into his brain should do it,” the Puppetmaster shouted. His eyes were full of vengeance, like a snake readying itself before killing its prey.

In the nick of time, a thought came to Barry’s mind— why was the Puppetmaster only controlling Cisco and not both of them? Being controlled and forced to kill your best friend would certainly destroy one’s life... Why was it Vibe’s blasts and not Flash’s vibrating hand killing Cisco?

“He can only control one extra person at a time..!” Barry mumbled.

In the blink of an eye, Barry dashed over to the villain as Cisco’s hands started to vibrate. Blue swirls formed around the hands, his powers activating in slow motion. Rapidly, Barry broke open the vial and poured the liquid onto the Puppeteer’s skin, making sure his lighting wouldn’t interfere.

A bright green light emerged, reminiscient of the time when Dr. Light had blinded Barry, and the three of them were knocked unconscious. When the heroes came to, the Puppeteer’s powers were negated, he was unconscious, and Cisco was shaken but alright.

Wincing, Barry helped Cisco to his feet and the two embraced.

“You saved my life, man,” Cisco breathed in relief. “Thank you.”

“You’d do the same for me. You’re my friend.”

#kayla loves cisco ramon #kayla likes writing #what am i doing #it’s almost 1 am now #this took an hour #the flash #vibe #cisco ramon #barry allen #au #barrisco

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secretlystephaniebrown · 6 years

Text

Someone’s Playing the Pink Panther Theme, Right?

Summary: Carolina infiltrates Locus’ squad. There are some close calls.

This comes from two places: one, me joking about how Locus is oblivious and failed to notice Carolina infiltrating his squad, and the other, me pointing out that Carolina infiltrating his squad means she potentially witnessed some fucked up shit before revealing herself. I didn't go all the way with the second one, because I wanted to write something on the lighter side. Hope you guys enjoy!

Also on Ao3

Carolina’s method of stealth relies on two things:

One, a standardized system of armor so that her camouflage can do the rest of the job for her.

Two, no one to talk to her directly.

It’s not that Carolina’s bad at espionage. Or stealth. Or…

Look, she’s not bad at it, okay?

She’s not.

Shut up, Epsilon.

So she’s tripped some motion sensors in her day. So what if she can never come up with a good excuse whenever someone asks her why she’s not on patrol?

She can just fight her way out of the situation, okay? She’s fine.

She’s fine.

Really.

Look, at least she’s not Tex, okay? Tex blew up places to make sure no one ever saw her.

She’s fine, Epsilon.

Stop fussing, Epsilon.

The point is, infiltrating Locus’s squad is going to go fine. The helmet she’s wearing is one that belonged to one of the pirates, even if it’s not standard-issue. A voice-coder, one unconscious body hidden behind one of the warthogs, and the pounding sense of too-late later, she’s awkwardly standing in front of Locus for inspection, alongside a dozen other soldiers.

She’s using the old method from Freelancer to avoid attention, one that she’d seen York use a dozen times. She’d never needed it of course, and it had never been possible. The Director’s attention had never been hers to determine if she received or not. She was either hyper-visible, all her flaws exposed under his keen gaze, or completely invisible, no matter how good she was. There was no state of in-between. No amount of hiding or deflection could have concealed her when she was tired, or injured, or late.

York, however, had taught her that the best method to avoid detection was to be after the most likely to be trouble in a squad. Not directly after, he’d explained once, over a bottle of beer after a mission gone sideways in the early days, because then the CO is hyper-on-edge, looking for something to critique in the next person too, but one spot after that, or even two, if it’s been a bad mission.

<Epsilon.>

<Right, sorry, okay, focusing.>

Sometimes, she had to wonder if Alpha had been as anxious as Epsilon.

<Rude.>

The guy she’s chosen to stand two down from is a man who failed to fasten the shoulder plate of his armor correctly. If the data she and Epsilon have gathered on Locus is correct—and Epsilon hums, annoyed in her mind, insistent that it is correct, how dare she assume otherwise, the two of them are the best at gathering intel—he won’t tolerate that. Her own armor is in perfect shape, maintained with the help of the best A.I.—Epsilon glows with pleasure at that thought, adjacent to but not interrupting her internal monologue—so she’ll be fine there.

The one danger is that Locus does know all his people, that he has read every file, or worse, that he’s read the file that Epsilon spoofed up for Carolina’s alias and realizes that something’s wrong.

Anxiety trickles down her throat, choking her for a moment before sinking down, hard and slow, like a rock into her stomach, and she can’t tell if it’s Epsilon’s or her own.

Everything depends on her succeeding here.

Locus goes down the line, efficient and brutal in his pace. He unbraids three soldiers for miniscule problems with their armor or weapons, he dresses down another for having missed a check-in—oh shit he does pay attention to his soldiers, oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

He’s just about to get to her, and Epsilon is frantically buzzing in the back of her mind, planning escape routes, searching for ways out, and she’s barely able to breathe, just trying to stop radiating guilt and fear and anything else that could tip him off.

He’s turned that strange, eyeless helmet towards her, and she feels herself about to fall over the edge, the anxiety turning into adrenaline, flight becoming fight, when the door slams open and a man in orange armor arrives.

“Locus!” He shrieks, and she places the voice. Felix. The traitor within the New Republic.

He’s… shorter than she expected, after Locus. Locus is the largest man she’s seen since Maine, larger than Caboose or any of the other pirates. Locus is broad and wide, built for close combat but a sniper. A contradiction.

But Felix… oh, there’s no mistaking what he’s built for. Skinny but muscled, shorter than Locus but average height overall… bristling with pride and knives alike.

He’s the one to watch for. He fights dirty.

Locus’s attention skitters away from her, refocusing on something far more relevant, and she’s left on the edge, her fingers inches away from fists.

“How far out are they?” Locus demands.

“Not here yet,” Felix says, crossing his arms. “But I saw the battle plan you had drawn up, and I’ve got complaints.”

… a battle plan?

Fuck.

She hadn’t known there was an actual plan yet.

Neither had Epsilon, apparently.

“Dismissed all of you,” Locus snapped, freeing Carolina from discovery. She can’t help but breathe in relief, and smirk to herself, knowing that he’s just doomed his whole operation, letting her go like that. Locus turns his entire focus towards Felix, but doesn’t say anything, while the pirates turn and scatter.

<He doesn’t want anyone to see Mommy and Daddy fight.> Epsilon sniggers in the back of her mind

<Ugh, seriously? The guy’s a dick.>

<Don’t be stupid. Now where can we get those battle plans?>

Epsilon doesn’t know, but he’s got a few suggestions, which Carolina supposes is better than nothing.

The two of them dart through the halls, still careful about the pirates.

<Careful, camera!>

<Can’t you short-circuit it?>

<Well, yeah, it just takes a second, so stand still!>

<Hey, hey, if you were better at watching your corners, I wouldn’t have to!>

They locate a control room, which will hopefully have… something, at least. Data of some kind, if not the actual battle plans.

Battle plans for how Felix and Locus intend to murder all their friends.

The humor, the banter, the comradery within Carolina’s mind evaporates in an instant at that reminder.

Their friends are in danger. The guys are in danger.

The fact that Felix and Locus have been close for so long… Carolina doesn’t know details—communications are hard to listen into on Chorus, even with Epsilon’s wide-sweeping abilities. But Locus has been mirroring Wash’s location for a while, and there are rumors about Felix and the Simulation Troopers.

Close enough to trust, close enough to hurt, close enough to kill.

Carolina’s fingers clench into fists at the thought.

There’s an irony to her position here, an infiltrator amid the infiltrators, the double agent within the double agents, the traitor of traitors.

She finds some satisfaction within that… but not as much satisfaction as she’ll find beating Locus and Felix’s faces in for daring to plan to hurt her friends.

She remembers Wash’s shouts on the radio, his pleas for help, for rescue.

Things went wrong, so quickly, and she hadn’t even realized it at the time, thinking they were safe, or as safe as anyone could be during this civil war. Once she took down the pirates, she’d be able to secure a ship for them and get them all to safety, but she had to make sure that Freelancer’s toxic legacy wasn’t going to claim any more lives, and the pirates were the source of that, and they were keeping the ships down too, so really, she was helping them—

Her excuses putter out in her own mind, hollow.

She should have gone to them earlier, and she knows it.

She’d needed space, needed to try to make things right, to shake off her father’s ghost, she’d seen a chance, and she’d taken it, not saying goodbye and damn the consequences.

And now… here were the consequences.

She has to live with that.

Carolina reaches out to try the door, secure in the knowledge that Epsilon had unlocked it already and grins to herself.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Fuck.

A pirate turns the corner—the one she’d been planning to use as a human shield earlier, clearly on edge, his armor now in place, bristling from the reprimand.

Oh, of all the—she is so fucked.

“Huh?” She asked, trying to channel Maine’s ability to fake nonchalance. No one ever questioned Maine.

<That’s because he was eight feet tall and literally made of muscle!>

… right.

Carolina wants to take a moment to curse the unfairness of the entire situation, because honestly, she is way scarier than Maine, or at least Maine-before-Meta.

But she’ll have to do that later, because right now she’s being caught red handed.

“Isn’t this, the uh,” she says, trying to think of what Wash would do. “Ladies room?”

Carolina hadn’t known she could literally feel it when an A.I. facepalmed, but she could, apparently.

“What? No!”

“Oh, sorry,” she says, stepping away. “I—I just—”

He’s recovered from his bafflement at her excuse and is about to ask her in more detail, or even worse, ask for help, when Locus comes on the intercom. “Assemble,” he orders. “There’s been a change in plan.”

The pirate groans. “Great. I bet Felix made us scrap the landmines, so he could monologue.”

“He does like to do that,” Carolina says, trying to keep her tone light. She… she can use that. Monologuing. That gives her time. That means he has to keep them alive.

Thank God for mercenaries who like to hear himself speak and can annoy their professional partners into letting him have his way.

“You’re telling me,” the pirate mutters, stomping his feet heavily as they head back into the main room.

Carolina swallows, then follows him.

They get their orders and Carolina tastes bile.

She kills her partner, the man who’s supposed to help her murder the Federal Soldiers, and she sets off the fire alarm in the barrack she’s supposed to execute, so they run.

(She’ll learn later the second wave of pirates caught them in a crossfire before they could make it out, and she throws up until there’s nothing left.)

She’s getting mixed reports, she doesn’t know where the Reds and Blues or Wash are, and so she runs into the infirmary, because she’s heard a rumor that Wash was injured.

She doesn’t find Wash, but she does find a very angry doctor.

“Stay down!” Carolina pushes her down, her heart racing, because another squad was assigned the infirmary. “I can get you out of here, just—”

A scalpel presses against her neck. “And why should I trust you, sweetie?”

“Because otherwise, you’re dead.” She swallows. “Get out of here and find the Reds and Blues, okay?” She shows the doctor a way out through the vents, and then tries to see if she can get any other survivors out.

She doesn’t find any other survivors.

She does find a group of pirates.

Fuck.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She’s looking down the barrel of a gun, and man, she really doesn’t like that. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?” There’s just enough of a sneer, enough of a leer, there, that Carolina doesn’t even have to hesitate before channeling South. She should draw from Connie, or York, or Florida, or really anyone else, really, but Carolina wants to knock this guy down a peg, and she’s itching for a fight, itching to put this fucker in her place.

There are dead bodies in the room behind him, because Carolina couldn’t protect them, and she can’t avenge them yet, not if she wants to save her friends, but she wants to… something. She needs to make amends, somehow.

“I saw someone run out of here,” she says, lifting her chin in the air, like she’s not scared, like she thinks they’re being stupid, like they’re beneath her. “I killed her and came in to see if you guys needed help blowing your noses or wiping your asses too.”

The gun lowers. “Bitch,” the pirate mumbles.

“Hey, do your job, so I don’t have to,” she says flippantly, even though Epsilon is screaming at her not to make fun of the murderers, they have guns, Carolina, they could kill you, Carolina.

“We just got the word from Locus,” another one says. “Get ready for the box.”

“Alright then,” Carolina says. “Let’s get this over with.”

She carefully gets herself placed right next to Locus, who looks her over one last time.

“You, soldier,” he says. “What’s your name?”

Fuck.

“Carol—Carol. Carol—” Shit fuck. “Church.” Fuck.

Epsilon is dead quiet in her brain with disbelief at how bad she fucked that up.

Locus, however, simply nods and turns his attention. “Remember to use your camouflage,” he orders them, and Carolina can’t believe she’s getting away with this.

The two of them activate the active camouflage in sync with everyone else and walk forward towards her friends.

<Be careful you don’t trip,> Epsilon says, sulky.

<I’m just saying, this is why we don’t do stealth missions!>

He has no response for a moment.

Then, as they decloak, aiming a gun at their friends, he finally speaks up again.

Carolina grins and allows herself to stop being scared that things are going to go wrong.

She’s made it this far. Locus and Felix are going to pay.

#Agent Carolina #Epsilon #Leonard Church #Locus #Red vs Blue #Steph Writes

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master-of-the-boot-blog · 6 years

Text

Lars’ Cornhole Christmas Catastrophe

Author’s note: This story is graphic as fuck. It features Lars from Steven Universe being sexually assaulted by a homicidally insane vampire from the Hellsing franchise. Reader perversion is encouraged.

Lars Barriga was jerking off when he heard his phone ring. Normally he would have ignored this because the porn video was getting to the good part, however this was Sadie’s ringtone and there was a very good chance that Sadie was going to be able to give him sex. So very reluctantly and with much anger, Lars took his hands away from squeezing his dick and answered his phone with sticky hands. “Yeah!” he said in a voice that was angrier than he meant it to be.

“Hey, Lars,” said Sadie Miller, Lars’s long suffering girlfriend. “I was wondering if you were good for tonight?”

Lars panted and took a drink from the energy drink next to his laptop. “Uh, yeah, sure I’m good,” he wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced at the paused image on the computer screen. He licked his lips and was nearly tempted to hang up on Sadie; but then he remembered that sex was better than five finger shuffle.

“Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?” Sadie sounded disappointed and miffed over the phone; more than she usually was.

“Uh, sure, I do,” Lars tried to bullshit his way through this conversation. “It was all about the . . . thing tonight. Okay what the hell was going on tonight?”

“I asked you if you’d come to Christmas dinner with me and my mom,” she said with her usual sense of trademark defeat and exhaustion. She became more hopeful for a moment, “Mom made your favourite, pizza rolls.”

Lars had a real dilemma. If Sadie’s mom was going to be home then there was a reduced chance she’d be comfortable enough to give him sex, but then again the prospect of pizza rolls was very tempting. “Uh, yeah sure I can try and be there, just make sure your mom doesn’t embarrass me.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, fine,” said Sadie in a very resigned, defeated voice. She hung up and Lars was left nude and reminded about his throbbing boner. Frowning, the boy’s stretched ears flopped about as he sat back at the computer desk. On the computer was a video of a young, slender man being mercilessly pounded by a much larger, harrier man was paused in doggy style. The uncreative title of the video said everything; it wasn’t like Lars watched these things for the story.

Lars grinned as he began to start up the video again, his hands going back to squeezing his pickle. His pulse began to quicken and the climax of the video was nearing. He’d seen this video before; he knew where and how the money shot went. Still, there was a problem that was preventing Lars from enjoying his porn video.

The young man with stretched ears and stylized Mohawk hair glanced over at the picture of him and Sadie at last year’s Video Game Convention. It was one of their few happy moments, unmarred by couples fighting and a severe inability to communicate or express feelings in a healthy way. Lars knew that he’d fucked up, just forgetting his promise to Sadie like that. He knew that her mom was a big, loud, weird woman who embarrassed them both; but Sadie cared about her a lot. Lars wasn’t nearly kind or thoughtful enough to straight up apologize to Sadie and make it up to her; but he definitely could still show up and kind of save Christmas.

The young man shut the laptop. He would spank it to porn later; his boner was already dying from his conflicting and confusing teenager emotions. Throwing on his pants, coat and Jacket, Lars opted to go commando this cold December day in case Sadie gave him a blowjob or something.

Winter in Delmarva was crisp, clean and magical. Something in the air was sweet and the winter air felt invigorating. Lars of course hated everything about this day. The cold weather made his metal ear plugs freeze up and the shaved sides of his head were vulnerable to the freezing winds. He fucking hated winter and thought it was shit. Old man winter could suck on his uncut cock for all he cared.

It was halfway to Sadie’s house that Lars realized something. “Oh shit!” he cried in these empty streets on the night before the night before Christmas. “My charger!” He cried as he searched the pockets of his jacket and pants. The jacket, embroidered with the logo The Big Donut should have had his phone charger. He reacted with horror as he realized that the power bar on his phone was turning into a red sliver. He had to do something about this!

Lucky for Lars, the Big Donut was halfway between his house and Sadie’s house. He could sprint over there, grab the phone charger from the office and be at the Miller house in time for Pizza rolls and a blowjob and/or hand-job.

Deserted and cold were the best words for the old donut place. Part of a larger chain of donut places, there was something about the workplace that rubbed Lars the wrong way. He wasn’t sure what the hell it was, but it wasn’t going to fucking stop him. Looking at it a certain way, Lars figured he’d just run in and take what he needed; maybe even grab a few unsold donuts destined for the garbage bins. Frost coated the stairs leading up to the back door. Lars cried out as he nearly fell.

Turning his employee key, he quickly disarmed the building alarm. He laughed as he locked the door behind him in the pitch black donut shop. He figured he had the cat in the bag when he slipped from the snow collected in the treads of his shoes. Screaming, Lars went down like a felled tree and banged his head against the floor.

He saw and felt no more . . .

. . .

Until—

Head head hurt like a mother fucker! “Oh Jesus Christ!” Lars shouted as he put a hand to the bump on his forehead. He groaned and swore. There was no way he could go to Sadie’s now. He’d be too embarrassed to be seen in public with such a big, angry, red lump on his head.

Stumbling like a zombie, Lars shakily got to his feet. Groaning and cursing, he ambled over to the staff lounge. There it was, his phone charger Soon, no longer would he live in fear of the dreaded low red bar. There was something rotten in the state of Denmark. Or in the State of Delmarva. Or Delaware. Or whatever.

Somebody was in the donut shop with Lars. He could hear them talking through the rusted metal door that led to the front area. Lars wasn’t sure who it could be, maybe burglars or homeless people; but he knew that the only way out was past that door.

Treading quietly, Lars didn’t want to alert the potential thieves. He could overhear what sounded like two of them arguing. “Come on Luke, you gotta let me fuck the bitch!” the first voice was nasal and reedy, like a crackhead.

“Jan, you’re such a disgusting sack of shit,” said a more refined, erudite voice, “For starters I don’t want to see my brother on the job.

Tiptoeing, Lars made his way towards the exit. His heart pounded and his palms grew sweaty. He was only a few steps away from leaving.

“Come on Luke!” begged this character, Jan, “The bitch is dead, she wont’ raise any noise! Nobody will know!”

The other one, Luke groaned, “I swear, this is why I bought you that flesh light. If you can just wait, we can head to Empire city and just grab a random tourist if it’s so bad for you.”

Lars was halfway through the mudroom when he felt a tickle in his sinuses and a sneeze that he couldn’t stop.

Achoo!

And just like that, Lars’s perfect escape was fucked.

It was like a light switch, the two burglar/break in guys were on to him. The door to the front area opened up and Lars got a good look at two of the weirdest guys he’d ever seen. One man, dark skinned with multiple piercings looked at him with an evil expression. The other, pale and dressed all in white just frowned at him, while also carrying the dead body of the district manager for The Big Donut.

Like a rabbit before a snake, Lars froze; his expression filled with horror as he started into the dead, cold eyes of Ms. Palahniuk. True she was always a cunt and a corporate tool, but seeing her limp and with multiple holes in her neck just did something to him.

The pale one, Luke narrowed his eyes at Lars. “So how much did you hear?” he spoke, drawing attention to the stream of blood running down his chin; as if he wasn’t holding a dead, pale body.

The darker one, Jan burst out into laughter, “Well fuck my ass and call me Britney! Spider just caught himself a fly, Zed!”

Trying to speak for himself, Lars began to slowly back up. “I-uh-I swear I didn’t see anything. You guys were never here.”

He bumped into something and a strong arm held him around the waist. Jan yelled into his ear, as if he’d run across the room so fast that Lars’s eyes hadn’t been able to see it. “You got a nice little ass, nigga!” He laughed most unpleasantly, “Be a shame if somebody were to fuck you!” Jan laughed even louder, his breath reeking of rotting meta and fangs peeking from his upper jaw.

Luke dropped the dead body of the district manager and zoomed in, too fast for the human eye. With one gloved hand he took Lars’s chin, who whimpered with fear as he stared into Luke’s red, inhuman eyes. “Well obviously we have a witness and we can’t let him but; but I think you’re onto something for once, Jan.”

The dark skinned man whooped with glee, “Alright! We’ll double team this little bitch and then drink all his fucking blood!”

Luke blanched even more than he already did, his red eyes flashing with irritation. “Jan, that’s absolutely disgusting. There’s now way I’m sharing with you or risking touching your sloppy seconds. Hold him down so that I can go first.”

Lars began to cry as the gravity and horror of his situation began to sink in. “Please,” he whimpered, “I have a family, I have girlfriend. You don’t have to do this.”

Disdainfully, Luke slapped Lars across the face, earning howls of laughter from Jan and comments about slapping bitches. “We have to kill you to prevent the truth of vampires from coming out,” Luke pontificated, “However, taking out our frustrations on your still warm body is purely optional and you have nothing to offer us to change our minds.”

One of Jan’s rough, calloused hands caressed Lars’s neck; pinching him and feeling him up like a farmer picking out a suckling pig for supper. When Jan turned and licked over Lars’s major arteries, the boy shuddered as he felt like his soul wanted to leave his body from revulsion.

Once more the dark skinned vampire laughed, “Boy tastes like donuts! For fucking real, Luke! Whoa! It’ll be like fucking and eating a mega sugar maple sprinkle donut!”

His brother rolled his eyes, “Shut up, Jan, just hold him down so that I can fuck him. After that you can do whatever you want to him.”

There was no warning as Jan pushed Lars forward onto his face. As he tried to run away, he felt a boot come down onto the small of his back. Limbs thrashing, Lars was powerless against the inhuman power of the two vampires. Like a fly in a web, there was no escape for Lars; though this fate was infinitely more cruel.

He shrieked when he felt a pair of rough hands grab his loose jeans and start to pull them down. Full on crying, the humiliation was more than he could bear. He bleat like a lamb at the slaughter, “No! No! Please!” One last attempt at seeking humanity in those who had none.

He felt a cold breeze over his bottom and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what was going to happen next. For the first time since he was a little boy, Lars prayed to God and asked to be saved, the hot tears dripping down his face.

Somebody was listening.

“Do you boys like Rick and Morty?” asked a deep, musical voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Jan and Luke spun around, hissing and baring their fangs. In their ensuing panic, they let go of Lars, who began to crawl as best he could along the cold tile floor; one of of his hands frantically struggling to pull up his pants and cover himself best he could.

Then he showed up.

The cackling, maniacal, joker laughter preceded him as he entered the mortal plane. To Lars it looked like Slender Man’s mental cousin jumped out of the shadows to go completely ape shit on these vampire thugs.

His long, red coat billowed out behind him like bat wings, his long black hair moved like a living thing and his inhumanly long limbs were extended like a grabbing predator.

The newcomer didn’t waste time as he kicked Luke in the balls as hard as he could with his fine leather boots. He laughed like maniac possessed, spraying snot and saliva everywhere. His big, wide, red hat fell off as he punched Jan in the face; a dozen bloody teeth flying out of his mouth in a horizontal line.

The psycho stranger grinned from ear to ear, flashing not fangs but rows and rows of shark like teeth. Overfilled with glee, he grabbed Jan by the shirt collar and started pummelling him like he was starting a chainsaw without gas.

Luke charged at the inhumanly tall stranger with that vampire speed, but the newcomer was faster. His body dissolved into shadows and reformed behind Luke. Whooping and hollering, the man put Luke into a choke hold and began raining blows into the pale vampire’s torso.

Brass coloured claws sprouted from the tips of his white, mickey mouse gloves and he slashed across Jan’s face when he tried to defend his brother. Not pausing for once second, took a gigantic, hungry bite out of Luke’s head. Luke screamed in agony as the man in red ate part of his skull like a fucking apple.

It was like watching a train wreck, seeing bit of bone, blood and skull fly everywhere. Lars shivered and watched, even when he should have run like hell. Maybe it was because he knew that he’d never really outrun these two legged crimes against God.

Luke shrieked in violation as the tall, non-human shoved a finger into his brain and started feeling around. “How’s this, fuck-o!” he laughed as the pale vampire screamed for mercy.

Throwing Luke over him in a judo through, the man used his insanely long legs to lunge at Jan. Grabbing Jan’s crotch in a testicle popping grip, he just looked so damn pleased with himself. “There’s never been a vampire sexier than me!” he bellowed ecstatically. Thrusting his knee up, he hit Jan on the chin and sent him flying backwards into a wall.

The man in red pirouetted like a ballerina. “Thank you! Thank you!” he bowed and kissed to an invisible crowd that only he could see. Then with the flourish of a magician on stage, the man in red produced an unknown device from his jacket. Lars couldn’t tell what it was, except that it had a circuit board, part of a cell phone interface, it leaked oil and it was held together with electric tape and staples.

Making like a linebacker, the man charged forward and through a wall. Drywall dust flooded the area and its acrid, sooty taste made Lars choke and hack. He was so consumed by coughing a lung up that he didn’t see the man in red activate the detonator on his device and throw it into the donut fryer.

It was like the fourth of July as the incendiary bomb detonated inside a vat of fryer oil. The entire inside of the donut shop was sprayed with flaming canola oil. The blast of heat struck Lars like a fist and he stopped coughing long enough to realize that his sneakers were on fire.

He was luckier than Luke and Jan. The two vampire brothers screamed and writhed as the stood directly in the blast of weaponized kitchen oil. Each one twisted and thrashed, burning like dry christmas trees in July.

Lars kicked off his shoes and started to look for a path to the exit that didn’t involve walking through pools of flaming oil. Then to his utter surprise, the tall vampire in red went tearing out of the flames like a bat out of hell; his jacket and hair on fire and his face and shirt smeared with drywall dust. “You think this hurts? THIS hurts, sweetheart!” he bellowed hysterically as he started punching Luke and Jan.

The two vampire brothers screamed even louder as they were burned to death and beaten to a pulp at the same time. The red coated man’s gloves were blackened by fire and smeared with blood as his knuckles got the perfect workout.

“That is hurt, darling!” he cackled like an abusive boyfriend, punching Luke’s jaw right off. “That’s pain, schnookums!” he giggled as he punched a hole right through Jan’s chest and out his back.

“How’s this, son of mine?” he asked as he kicked Jan’s legs from under him. For a very brief moment, Jan thought that he’d found his long lost father right before the more powerful vampire stomped on his head like a teenager vandalizing a jack-o-lantern.

Lars didn’t stay to find out how it ended. It ended with him burning to death inside the big donut. He turned and ran, his feet blistering from the hot tile floor. He was almost at the exit when the man in red teleported right in front of him, stopping Lars from getting to safety.

He tried to say something to Lars, but all he did was mumble as he chewed on Luke’s severed head like a dog with a treat; blood and drool ran down his sooty, drywall dust coated chest. Lars screamed as the edges of the man’s jacket rose up like bat wings and wrapped around him.

The young boy of Philippine descent screamed as he woke to blackness one more time. “Mom! Dad!” he screamed, “Someone! Help!” he banged on whatever pitch black enclosure held him. Trembling hands went into his pocket, searching for his lighter.

A weak flickering flame cast light on Lars’s situation and it was getting darker by the minute. From what he could tell, having seen it in various movies and TV shows, he was in a coffin. Lars had been buried alive.

Panicking, Lars started to pound on the lid of the coffin. “Let me out! Someone, please let me out! I'm not dead!” he began to sob and cry uncontrollably.

Then like before, his prayers were answered, just not by God.

The coffin lid flew open and the bright, harsh light blinded Lars for a moment. In the time that it took his eyes to adjust he fluorescent light, he realized he’d been looking at the crazy vampire who accidentally saved his life and was now probably going to end it.

“Hey there,” he said in a not totally friendly voice, “We never got properly introduced last time. Alucard is the name and sexual pleasure is my game.” He flashed Lars what he thought was a winning smile but looked more like something out of a Sam Rami film.

Lars looked back up from the coffin, totally frozen; his trembling hand still holding his lighter.

Alucard cocked his head, “Well, aren’t you going to say anything back to me?”

“Get your junk out of my face!” Lars shouted at Alucard. It wasn’t just that he’d kidnapped Lars and held him against his will inside a fucking coffin, but he was half naked while doing it. In the harsh light, Lars could make out that Alucard was nude from the belt up. His hairy body was grotesquely muscular, with oversized pecs and shredded abs that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Dragonball Z.

Alucard shifted, his tight leather pants doing nothing to hide his boner and his erect pink nipples peeking through his carpet of chest hair. “So, what’s your problem?” he adjusted his stance so that standing over the coffin, Lars got a better look at his hard cock and his tight, muscular ass. These leather pants weren’t exactly comfortable but they did do a good job showing off the parts of the sexiest vampire alive.

Lars was appropriately disgusted by the view presented before him. Dropping his lighter he shouted up at the literal sexual predator, “I’m getting the fuck out of here!”

Like Harvey Weinstein on a catastrophic acid trip, Alucard had other plans. “Oh no, you don’t, mother fucker!”

Suddenly his white gloved hands were all over Lars like big, horny spiders. The boy thrashed, struggled and swore. After being manhandled, groped and forced out of his clothes like a disobedient puppy, Lars got a good look at what he was wearing and shrieked with horror.

Sitting in the open coffin, Lars was now wearing nothing but a pair of tight, tight pink panties with a sprig of mistletoe tied over his dick. Other than two nipple pasties shaped like hearts, Lars wasn’t wearing any other stitch of clothing anywhere on his body.

Alucard flashed that shark toothed grin once more, deliberately putting his hands on his hips and flexing his muscles. “Now that’s impressive!” he commended the terrified lad, “Look at you, nice firm ass, clean, hairless limbs and those cute floppy ears that are all the latest craze with young people these days.” He sucked in his breath like he’d been talking about a delicious slab of meat instead of a person, “Yes, you’re definitely a looker, son. While you’re here, you can just call me Uncle Touchy.”

Alucard guffawed at his own terrible joke, failing to notice the fear and confusion on Lars’s face. “Or if you like, you can call me daddy,” he winked at the boy, causing him to turn green with disgust. “Think about that the next time you see your father in the shower. Now come give Daddy Alucard a kiss, Larsy boy!”

Lars did the only sane thing and ran. He jumped out of the coffin and began to run through a spacious, well lit dungeon made of damp stone. There was a large wooden door with no obvious locking mechanism or door handles. Alucard scowled at this.

As Lars was about to reach the door to the dungeon, a freakish thing materialized out of the ether.

“I’m Puppet-Rebeca Sugar,” the thing said. Lars stopped and fell on his ass, mortified by the life sized creepy puppet that looked like it came out of Jim Henson’s worst nightmares.

Puppet-Rebeca looked at Lars with plastic eyes while lewdly feeling up her felt vagina. In her free foam hand, she clenched a large, rusty butcher knife.

Grabbing him with more strength than something made of foam rubber should be, Puppet-Rebeca stopped feeling up her crotch to grab Lars by the throat. “I’m going to butter your bread, honey. I’m going to sit on your face with my big Muppet ass.”

“That’s enough, Becky!” Alucard commanded. “You’ll get your taste only after I’m done with that sweet thing.”

Bowing to her dark master, the creature who’d summoned her from the fiery pits of hell, Puppet-Rebeca let Lars go and stepped back.

“I don’t want you!” Lars protested, trying to cover himself with his hands; the panties were starting to ride up a lot. “I don’t want either of you, I want to go home!”

Alucard laughed at the boy’s emotional anguish, “Why? So you can fuck that fat girl, Sadie? You’re better off without that pasty cumbucket. I swear, she looks like a blob fish with hair.”

“Sadie’s my girlfriend!” Lars shouted at Alucard, “Nobody gets to talk about her that way, I don’t care who you are or what you can do!”

The master vampire laughed, “Well Laramie, assuming I care what you think; stop and take a moment, take a deep breath. Your parents don’t give a damn about you, as of now they think you’re dead and they’ll have an easier go mourning a dead son than caring for a sack of shit like you. Sadie thinks your dead and I’d give her a day before she finds a new fuck toy. Everyone else in Beach City hates you and thinks you’re full of shit. The Cool Kids laughed at you and think you’re a douchebag; no matter how you spin it, I’m all you’ve got. I’m the only one who can tolerate a miserable cumrag like you and you should get on your damn knees and thank me for it.” He took his belt off and then gave a most lecherous grin, “How come here and show Daddy Alucard that big mouth and fast hands of yours.”

Lars pointed a skinny finger at the mad vampire, “You don’t get to touch me! I’m a person, not your boy and you’re not my daddy!”

The lad turned around and started banging on the wooden door as Puppet-Rebeca looked on with her ping pong ball eyes. He had to get out he had to get out he had to get . . .

===============================================================

Lars woke up in his own bed, naked and screamed. Trembling, he looked over his body and felt everything. He had no cuts, no bruises and nothing broken. Feeling over his ass and crotch; he felt whole and untouched.

The phone began to ring and he yelped. It was Sadie calling him. Looking over his phone, he glanced around and saw that his computer had the same porno video on as this morning; the same video of a twink being dominated by a hairy muscle man. It was all the same. Had he really been dreaming?

“Sadie!” he nearly shouted into the phone, answering the call.

His girlfriend winced on the other line, “Lars, what’s going on?”

“Sadie I was—actually it’s nothing,” he managed to slow down, “Uh, how are you? Are we good for dinner with your mom?”

“You remembered? I mean, of course you remembered,” she couldn’t hide her shock, “Yeah, my mom still wants you over for dinner. She even made pizza rolls.”

The boy could hardly contain his glee, “Yeah I love her fucking pizza rolls. I’ll be there!”

Sadie was taken aback. Normally she and Lars brought out the worst in each other, but this day, this day before day before Christmas day he was really giving her what she wanted. “Thanks for remembering, Lars. See you there, Player 2.”

“See you there, Player 1,” Lars said goodbye, showing his love in his own way. She hung up and Lars knew that there was no time. His phone was dying, running low on power but he had no interest in getting his charger from the Big Donut.

The first thing that Lars did was throw on some underwear before tossing on his customary tight jeans. Next came on his favourite scorpion T-shirt and sneakers. He was almost good to go; he just had to get his jacket.

Lars opened the closet and there he saw a tall man in red overcoat and big hat. Alucard grinned at Lars and threw a punch through the coat hangers.

The blow completely cleaned Lars’s clock, sending the boy flying backwards and slamming into the desk. Groggily, he spat out one of his front teeth. The head trauma meant that he really didn’t feel all the pain right away, but he felt the fear when Alucard’s twisted mug loomed large over him.

“Happy Christmas, cunt!” he jeered at Lars, picking up the boy by the front of his shirt and lifting him off the ground. “Did you have a good sleep? Any good dreams?”

Lars could only manage a numb shock, that this living nightmare—Cthulhu’s diarrhea in a human shaped bag—was very much real and not a figment of some fever dream.

“Well that’s nice,” Alucard sneered, “I’m happy to hear all of that from you.” Violently, he threw the boy onto the bed and pointed a long, clawed finger in his face. “Because I’ve got a message for you. This year you get a Mulligan from me, but next Christmas and every other Christmas until you die I will find you wherever you are and fuck your ass and face. If you’re eighty and living in a cave on Mars, I’ll find you and make your asshole look like a burrito filled with sour cream.”

The insane vampire lord trembled with rage and sexual energy as his hair and jacket floated around. “Don’t think of hiding from me, I have control over space and time. I have powers you can’t possibly imagine.” he turned and grabbed his junk, “So Happy Christmas, Laramie Bariga; next year I expect you to be waiting naked for me, bend over a table!”

He began to laugh like a hyena on crystal meth as his body dissolved into bats which then dissolved into shadow and fire. Just like that he was gone and Lars knew that he’d gotten a gift that was way worse than coal.

===========================================================================

Epilogue

Lars of the Stars slept in his Captain’s chair. Becoming an undead pink zombie was in hindsight one of the least shitty things to happen to him. If nothing else it gave him command of a group of ragtag rebels on the run from a totalitarian government and allowed him the chance to tool around the galaxy in a top of the line gem cruiser.

His calm time was interrupted by Steven Universe and his buddy Connie Maheswaran coming out of the portal in his hair. It was a pain in the ass but he honestly missed those two kids. He appreciated them way more than he had before his death.

“Hey, Steven! Connie!” Lars shouted, “Rhodonite figured out how to synthesize tequila, we can all drink and your parents won’t be able to stop you.”

Connie looked at him warily but Steven was just full of smiles. “Thanks Lars but Connie and me will do the responsible thing. We came here to drop off a care package from your parents and weapons from the Crystal Gems.”

Lars did a fist bump, “Sweet, little guys!”

Then a monitor started beeping, and the ship’s grandma caterpillar fusion, Fluorite announced the danger . . . very very slowly. “There’s a . . . ship approaching . . . our vector.”

On Screen appeared a gem who looked like she was Cosplaying for Code Geass. “Captain Lars! This time you will truly meet your end!”

Lars laughed haughtily at this enemy who’d dogged him across multiple galaxies. “Bring it on, Emerald. You can’t out-think me, you can’t out-fight me or out-drink me! You’d need the devil himself to beat me!” Admittedly all the anime he’d watched over the years was getting to his head.

And speak of the devil, a deep, music voice rang out behind Emerald. “Get out of my way!” snapped Alucard as he elbowed the fierce looking gem away. “Lars! Thought that travelling to another galaxy would save you from my wrath and my cock?” demanded the loopy vampire.

Steven looked at the insane vampire in his Carmen San Diego outfit, confused. “Lars, who is that guy?”

Alucard snapped, answering Steven’s question, “Who am I? Who am I! I’m the greatest vampire who ever lived! I’m the head pimp at Yellow Diamond’s personal Whorehouse; and it’s now my job to deliver Lars of the Queers to her Yellowness!”

He jabbed a finger while Lars stood speechless, honestly scared shitless even after all he’d grown and learned. “When I start, I’m going to fuck you until you love me! I’ll video tape the whole thing and send your parents a copy, along with a lock of your hair and a set of cum stained panties! Finally you’ll be albel to feel every night Yellow Diamond’s python sized tongue up your ass!”

“He’s the guy who molested me last Christmas,” Lars said, nearly on the verge of tears.

The tiny defective seer Padparadscha stepped in front of Lars, wrapping her tiny arms around him. “I’ve had a vision where Lars is threatened by a rapist. I will defend him with my life!”

Steven and Connie hugged Lars as well, “You fuck off, you two-faced mutant!” Connie yelled, “Go back to sparkling in the sun or whatever the fuck it is you do!”

Alucard’s eyes widened as he realized they went there, “You will all pay with your asses!” before Emerald punched him in the face and knocked him off camera.

“Stop stealing my spotlight, you fucking deviant!” Emerald snarled. She glared at Lars and his little friends. “Give up now, Lars of the Stars; or I’ll screw you, kill you and bring you back. I’ll do it over and over until you love me!”

Was Lars afraid? Oh fuck yes, he was. But he wasn’t about to take any of of it lying down. “Let’s dance,” he said to both Alucard and Emerald.

#steven universe #hellsing #alucard #lars #christmas #violent #graphic #fanfic

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orchideae · 3 months

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"Okay, I ask you a question, you have to think of the answer, where do you look? No good. You look down, they know you're lying, and up they know you don't know the truth. Don't use seven words when four will do. Don't shift your weight. Look always at your mark, but don't stare. Be specific, but not memorable. Be funny, but don't make him laugh. He's gotta like you, and then forget you, the moment you've left his sight."

Let's talk about inspiration for a second, though I'm not saying with this that Rusty Ryan is a direct source of inspiration for Yelan, but there's numerous things from this scene that I want to point out for a moment.

One. How much each detail matters when it comes to a 'person'(a). I know that in this quote/scene's context it's about where you can find uncertainty and proof of one's deception, but by that same account, it shows how many elements of ourselves carry our authenticity and thus our 'essence'. This shows the rather thorough knowledge that one has to possess in regards to human nature to be able to bring such thorough (and thus believable) personas to life. There will be moments when Yelan will simply throw up a quick lie as to her identity like she does in her SQ in Liyue Harbor when she simply needs some quick information but nothing beyond that; but for more elaborate missions that require a specific consistent and/or recurring presence? You'll see her live that as much and as naturally as she lives her own self, it's where you'll see a whole different level of craftsmanship, her craftsmanship.

Two. The arts of being perceived and deceived are rather intense. I mean, this also plays into the previous/first point, because it's honestly all about how the devil is in the details. But with this I aim to indicate how in control of yourself you have to be, to show signs of nervousness that may fit the persona in question perfectly. As an example: an experienced salesman will usually have natural charisma and confidence, because one's energy will draw customers in and the way a pitch is presented, will be what will make the sale; but one that's entirely new to the field will likely be lacking in both of those traits out of sheer inexperience. The latter will (likely/usually) find him or herself with a bundle of nerves caught in their throat which will afflict their speech and will likely keep their hands grasped together to not show the shake of them— living these little traits will allow one to blend into many different locations and scenarios (imagine too, how these would then also ripple effect into their personal lives). Any way, I digress. Even if we're speaking of a very temporary role or persona, falling into the latter example of character allows one to much more realistically bump into boundaries and excuse themselves; their nerves are a motivator and inhibitor for many things. But to able to present this realistically, every single layer of nuance needs to be closely and tightly understood. It's much more of a challenge than people might think.

Three. Those last lines, and that very last line in specific is so utterly important:

"Look always at your mark, but don't stare. Be specific, but not memorable. Be funny, but don't make him laugh. He's gotta like you, and then forget you, the moment you've left his sight."

Initially, I wanted to bring up Yelan's first character story as an example of this, that these novice pharmacists don't seem to realize that they've all likely treated Yelan for one injury or another already in the past and have forgotten; but it isn't the best instance to enforce the above quote, as each of their attention is drawn away from the obvious due to Yelan's endurance to endure the pain the treatments subject her to (yes, I will touch on this 'light addiction to pain' soon, and no, it is not 'kinky' as a portion of the fandom makes it out to be, or at least in my opinion; but more on that in a later post as it plays into a consistent thing across the board). Instead, the best example is likely simply: Liyue Harbor. This is where she lives (well, she technically resides just outside of the city), this is where people see her cross the street and yet in her SQ, numerous seem to not exactly recognize her. Even children who are known to frequent the wharf over and over, aren't familiar enough with Yelan as to be able to recognize her, and yet saying that they wouldn't have crossed paths is rather unrealistic (as she literally works for Ningguang, Liyue Harbor is the first port of call for intelligence gathering for numerous things). This tells me that she's either rather good at drawing their eyes away from her face or any other parts of her that people could rather quickly identify her by, or she's prone to disguising herself just enough. Now I do also have to note that the exact opposite may also be craved in certain situations. Sometimes, all you need is to be a memory that is much too vivid, a fever in someone's mind—— sometimes, that is exactly the persona that needs to linger.

What can I say, the game is a complicated one to play. For a woman who is so good at this craftsmanship, where every little aspect of these personas rests in a firm grip of control; no wonder she lives her life outside of that by the roll of a dice.

#[ meta. ] the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you?#[ every single element of this character is an element that i love so very dearly. god. /god/. ]#[ all that i need now is to shake the dust off my feathers. which will happen after numerous replies; i know. but until then. ]#[ have more thoughts! ]

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kyuu-rereads-umineko · 7 years

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Ep5, Tea Party & ???? (Part 1)

The aftermath of the tragedy.

In the cathedral, Bern orders Erika and Dlanor to explain the events of the first four episodes. I don’t think I want to see what kind of “truth” she’d come up with for them...

“There is no riddle that I, Furudo Erika, cannot solve.” what about the letter and knock huh

“It is possible to explain all of the past four games with Natsuhi as the criminal, or with certain irregularities based off that theme.” ...Okay, I’m curious as to how she’d explain Episode 2, 3, and 4 with a Natsuhi culprit theory.

At any rate, Bern instructs her to leave no traces of the legend of the witch behind, from the servants’ ghost stories to the tale of Beatrice working alongside Kinzo.

Dlanor mentions that, in investigating Beato’s furniture, they’ve discovered that the Stakes are forged occult items made in the US by con artists. "Though they call themselves the seven deadly sins, they’re actually cheap, fake souvenirs.” I don’t know why that line makes me sad, but it does.

Erika says they’re working on tracking down Virgilia, Ronove, and Gaap, and Dlanor mentions that the Chiesters are likely “weapons used in the crime.” Porcelain rabbits as murder weapons? SOUNDS LEGIT

“At the very, very end, when all of the illusions are broken and Beato’s magical compendium has been completely crushed... I shall present my master with the finest execution she desires - the execution of Beatrice!”

Bern decrees that she’ll allow Erika to hang her own portrait in the mansion’s entrance hall, and gives her the title of Witch of Truth.

Meanwhile, Lambda is hanging out by Battler’s corpse. “...You were an interesting guy. And you might have become even more interesting... too bad.”

“What a wonderful way to die... Erika! You can hang Battler’s corpse in the mansion’s reception hall. The next time I come to visit this kakera, welcome me in front of it.” charming

“Congratulations on becoming a witch. Though it will just be for a while, I’ll welcome you as a friend.” Kinda reminiscent of Lambda making Beato into a witch, huh...

“...I always thought it strange that humans who obtained eternal life would become so cruel. At the time, I honestly couldn’t relate.”

“The two who had earlier called themselves rivals in front of Beato... now stopped that charade and laughed together playfully.” I really don’t have much to add to this sequence. I’m not sure how to read it in the context of Tohya’s forgeries, so...

Erika declares that the story she weaves - Episode 6 - will be titled “Checkmate of the Golden Witch.” 0/10 title there

Onto the Ura Tea Party. Battler’s technically not “dead” insofar as death is defined by not thinking. meta gonna meta

Player!Beato walks out from behind a pillar, and approaches his body. After realizing he’s dead, she whispers, “You... liar...”

“The witches had chased him from the game board... So, from now on... Battler would never... return. The Golden Witch Beatrice... had lost her reason to exist.

“Thank you... Liar... Goodbye... And... Sorry.” And with that... she dissolves.

The scene flashes back to Dlanor’s Golden Land visit, only this time, their conversation over tea is included. Battler asks her about Knox’s Decalogue.

Battler doesn’t think too highly of the Decalogue, at first. “I get the feeling that the detective trying to expose the truth and the illusion trying to confuse it... are getting blended together, leading to a bizarre form of argument similar to a Devil’s Proof.”

Dlanor asks if he dislikes Knox, and Battler says, “It doesn’t work for me. There’s something strange about making it possible to deny the existence of all hidden doors without investigating.”

Dlanor puts forth an example: If Knox’s 3rd - no hidden passages - didn’t exist, then closed room mysteries would be essentially meaningless - no matter how thoroughly the detective searches, they can’t disprove “there’s a hidden door that they just can’t find.”

“That’s IT. Humans are weak creatures, who can’t even think unless they have proof that reasoning is POSSIBLE.” Virgilia adds, “they need encouragement that they can solve it if they do their best.”

“In detective novels, there’s always a scene where the detective announces that he’s discovered who the culprit is. That’s a sign saying ‘The hints have all been given in the previous parts of the story, so dear readers, please try to reason it out’. [...] To put it harshly, as long as the detective doesn’t say that, readers won’t feel like trying to solve it no matter how much they love solving mysteries.”

Battler realizes he’s guilty of the exact same thing - refusing to even start thinking because there’s “not enough information,” and in response, Beato had introduced the red truth.

“So... That’s when I finally had a guarantee that I could solve this tale if I tried... and I stepped up to the stage with her for the first time...?”

“Because I’ve been given hints, it’s like she’s saying... try and solve it. ...It can be solved.”

“Isn’t this almost as though... Beato herself is admitting... that she isn’t really a witch...?” Well, that’s one way to look at it.

Dlanor explains it pretty simply - the Decalogue exists as a guarantee that a mystery can be solved, in that it won’t go out of its way to spite the reader.

“So, in other words... If you follow the Decalogue... all riddles must have hints, and therefore... it’s guaranteed that finding the solution is possible.”

Battler asks if Dlanor’s use of the Decalogue to fight is proof that Beato’s tale follows it. Everyone goes silent. Eventually, Virgilia says she can’t answer that.

“This is a game that this child made. A game to decide which of the two of you will win. ...This child has called it a confrontation between mystery and fantasy. But unfortunately, she has never called it an orthodox mystery. That means you have no guarantee that it follows the Decalogue.”

Dlanor points out, though, that Beato’s referred to the game as a “contest” between the two of them, meaning Battler does have a chance at victory. “In other words... You’re trying to say that reasoning is possible?”

“I cannot promise that this tale is something you will absolutely be able to solve. ...However, I can promise you one thing. I will guarantee it with the red truth. Beato wanted you to solve it, so she made this game - the riddles of this tale - solvable. That alone, I will guarantee.”

Dlanor warns Battler that the Decalogue might not apply to Beato’s story, but asks him to keep it in mind if he ever finds himself lost and in need of a “compass for his reasoning.”

“Beato wanted me to solve it, so she made the riddles of this game solvable. In other words... Beato wants me to be capable of solving it.”

Virgilia says, “Unless the other party assures you that reasoning is possible, you won’t do it. ...It’s almost like love between shy, young people.” And here we go...

“Unless you have proof that the other person loves you first, you don’t want to love them back... Right?”

Battler speculates that “mutual love” occurs when both parties have spent enough time together to realize that they feel the same way. “In other words, this happens after the to of them trust each other and a relationship of trust is BORN... is what you’re SAYING.”

Battler comments that he used to think of the mystery genre as a fight between the reader and the author. Virgilia says, “It’s something that can’t go on without a relation built on mutual trust... a relationship with love.”

And, really, that’s what love is in the end, isn’t it? The ability to trust, to have an open mind, to believe in someone or something. To see someone for who they truly are - both their faults and their successes, not just one or the other.

“So, you’re saying that our relationship... isn’t one of killing each other, but one with love?” UMINEKO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

Virgilia laughs at the two of them, and Battler thinks that while he’s not “expecting friendship or a trusting relationship,” he can accept Beato as his rival and that the two of them give their all in fighting each other.

Dlanor, in response, pointedly asks him why he’s so sure Beato’s giving it everything she’s got. Battler replies that he can tell by looking at her, and Dlanor comments that, not only has she never said such a thing in red, Battler himself was the one who declared he’d only believe red text. He’s struck silent in reply.

Virgilia and Dlanor laugh at his expense together, and the flashback draws to an end.

“By now, it’s all too late... Let me think. Now that everything is too late already and I have an endless amount of time on my hands... let me think.”

Using both Virgilia’s red truth (that he has a chance at winning) and the Decalogue, Battler decides to make one last attempt at solving Beato’s mystery. He wakes up in the smoking room where he and Beato used to argue.

Gertrude and Cornelia appear, reminding Battler of the Decalogue’s commandments as needed. With their help, he’s finally searching for the answer, as opposed to just an answer.

“The culprit in all of these repeating games... is one of the 18 people. From the very beginning... there was no need for an illusion of a 19th person.”

“Because this tale is solvable, no elements will appear which make it impossible to solve. In other words, things like magic mustn’t appear. When they do appear, I shouldn’t suspect that the mystery element is breaking down... but I should instead question why it was shown and suspect the witnesses and observers.”

“Unless we acknowledge that we ‘love each other’, we won’t be able to get any further.” beabat is finally canon

Gertrude and Cornelia supply Battler with Knox’s 6th and 8th commandments - That an accident can’t lead to the mystery being solved, and that all the clues need to be presented. “In other words... Beato has already left me clues, hints, and messages in this tale.”

“When Beato realized that I’d completely surrendered in the 2nd game because it was too hard, she secretly worried. If I surrendered and lost the will to fight... the game would no longer remain on an even footing. In order to make me regain my will to fight... from the 3rd game onwards, she set things up in a way that made it easier for me, giving me tips on how to fight and a few hints.”

Battler finally realizes how much he screwed up by boycotting the 5th game and letting Bern and Lambda run amok - even though Beato wasn’t in charge, the gameboard was still of her make. The rules still apply.

“Culprit. Crime. Motive. The answers to those three ultimate riddles... the hints... must be scattered throughout the previously shown tales.” Gertrude appears, and says, “Go back through the tale. Know that you will be given them as long as you don’t lose sight of the truth’s faint light.”

“It’s something that has been repeated over and over again throughout the tale... persistently so. ...Without love, the truth... cannot be seen.”

The room dissolves, and Battler finds himself back in the sea of kakera. Scenes from previous episodes flit past...

#kyuutext #umineko #umineko no naku koro ni chiru #end of the golden witch

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thereviewsarein · 4 years

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The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show is live now on Amazon Prime, and I’m here for it.

I’m not sure that I can tell you how excited I was for this without sounding like a crazy person that either can’t get enough of Kacey Musgraves or Christmas specials or both. So I’ll just tell you that I’ve already watched it twice, have downloaded the album, and I’m not done with it yet.

I also have a list of 28 thoughts that flowed through me as I watched to go with 16 screenshot images I’ve put in this post.

If you have Amazon Prime, I highly recommend you watch The Kacey Musgraves Christmas show.

And if you don’t have Amazon Prime, I highly recommend that you find a friend that does and make some sort of deal so you can watch The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show.

Now, here are my 28 Thoughts and Moments. Leave a comment with your favourites.

🎄 Getting to the music right away with James Corden and Kacey singing Let It Snow is a great start.

🎁 Yay to jokes and laughs and this being fun for more than just the music within the first two minutes.

🎉 I like the old school behind-the-scenes production room scenes. I don’t know why, I just like them.

🎀 This Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas number is wonderful. Kacey sound great. That red dress with the bow is lovely. The cut away to the people watching on the old TV is a nice touch too.

🎄 DAN!!! Dan Levy is a star and I love him and his sarcasm and elf costume go great together.

🎁 Shoutout to Kacey Musgraves for including her band as more than just the guys that play the music while she sings. Speaking lines and jokes and non-musical screen time is a treat.

🎉 Leon Bridges at the door and he doesn’t care that Kacey’s not ready for Christmas yet because he’s “just here to sing a song,” and that sounds good to me. Present Without A Bow sounds pretty with the combination of their voices together. It’s a duet I never would have thought of myself, but I’m glad that someone else did.

🎀 Okay, so no cute scene introducing Camila Cabello, but here she is singing Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree with Kacey and it is fun. Both of these dynamite women are crushing it in Christmas red. The dancers are on fire and I’m in!

🎄 More production room and I love that they used it to set up Fred Armisen. Well done. Smart.

🎁 Hipster favourite Fred Armisen is in the library with a leather bound book of Christmas carols. What more could you ask for in a scene?

🎉 There’s a reason this gets listed as (Not So) Silent Night on the tracklist.

🎀 More laughs and Armisen is the perfect guest to make it work. The SNL vibes are strong and I like it a lot.

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🎄 Note related to nothing – I really do love Kacey Musgraves.

🎁 Sad songs for Christmas are not generally my jam, but I get it and Kacey’s performance of Christmas Make Me Cry with her guitar and the unseen band supporting with strings in the back is very pretty… in a sad way.

🎉 Dan in the bathroom. Great job with the towel and robe. More jokes. More cliches. More sarcastic wit. Give me all of it!

🎀 The way they used Kendall Jenner is perfect! No singing, no taking chances, just a fun/funny play on the Love, Actually cue cards and some Kardashian/Jenner family jokes. Good job!

🎄 This Dan and Kacey scene (and all of them really) is a lot of fun too. Yay for fun and funny!

🎁 Mele Kalikimaka, is traditional (in that we all know it) but not traditional because it’s not an old standard, follow me? Either way, here it is and I like it.

🎉 Oh hai Zooey Deschanel!

🎀 PUPPY!!!!!!

🎄 Kacey Musgraves and Troye Sivan are pretty and perfect and shiny together and I really like this duet on Glittery. People are going to hear this one a bunch, I can feel it.

🎁 Lana Del Rey’s voice is smooth and sweet and hearing her start singing I’ll Be Home For Christmas is a reminder of why she’s so great.

🎉 Kacey and Lana together is wonderfully chill and makes me want to light a fire and sit in a comfy chair.

🎀 NANA!

🎄 Bye Dan, you’re the best!

🎁 Final number time!

🎉 Ribbons And Bows to close things out with Kacey in her holiday disco glory is fun (have I mentioned that this thing is fun?). There are bubbles and the Rockettes and more dancers and all of the rooms and colours and extravagance and Nana and more.

🎀 Final Thoughts: Holy cow this made me happy and I will watch this many more times before Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Kacey!

And if you want to sit back and listen to Kacey Musgraves and friends sing some Christmas music (and tell some jokes), hit play on The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show album now. Enjoy!

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28 Takeaways and Moments from The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show The Kacey Musgraves Christmas Show is live now on Amazon Prime, and I’m here for it.

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lousylvrefiction · 7 years

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Hello readers! To my chagrin, I realize we Authors Speak writers posted not one single post in the month of July. I, for one, didn’t realize I’d missed my day to post until it was long gone. Some of us were more on the ball than that, but just had a crazy calendar and didn’t make it. I hope this month is better, and I’m going to kick off August by posting on time. But… (isn’t there always a but?) because my calendar has gone crazy this month, I’m recycling. Don’t get me wrong! This post is completely right for the day!

Let me explain.

As you may have realized, I like to talk about other authors’ books. A few years ago, on my sylvre.com blog, I did that by featuring “lessons” at Gay Romance University. In 2014, I made a lesson about Anne Barwell’s book, Shadowboxing, the first book in her World War II historical Echoes Rising series. Read on to revisit that day in class!

Why is this the right post to republish today?

Because today, the final book in the series has been launched at DSP Publications! Happy release day, Anne, and congrats on creating a series truly worth the read.

Okay, then! Let’s go to school!

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(Get your textbook, and the rest of the series at this DSP Pubications link.)

here: Please take your seats people, we want to get started…. What’s that? Boxer shorts? Certainly they’re allowed…. Yes, sir, briefs, certainly. Sure, speedos are not only allowed but encouraged. Be comfortable, but do pay attention in class.

Even though Kristopher Lehrer’s last name means ‘teacher,’ as we examine the early pages of our textbook, Anne Barwell’s novel Shadowboxing, it is Kristopher who is most in need of schooling. Oh, he is a learned man, it’s true—a physicist working on an important, possibly world-altering project. Unfortunately Very Important Projects often become the clouds where a scientist’s head is most comfortable. Kristopher’s attitude, as the novel opens, is reminiscent of the fearless forward motion of a horse with blinders.

To illustrate, consider this: Kristopher’s friend—the man that could have been his first true love if Kristopher had been honest—is Jewish, and in World War II Germany the yellow Star of David he must wear means that he is in danger every time he steps out in public. And, though David is a respected physician, he can no longer practice medicine for the same reason. Yet when Kristopher meets him for coffee he has no clue why his friend is upset, or scared. Read along in your text (or look over your neighbor’s shoulder if you haven’t yet picked up your text). We look at what happens when David challenges Kristopher’s naivety, beginning on page eight.

“Have you any idea what kind of people you are working for?” David spoke quietly, as always, but there was an underlying tone of fear in his voice that Kristopher didn’t remember hearing before. David’s emotions were always controlled; it was something that Kristopher had envied. “Have you any idea of their real agenda?”

Kristopher snatched his hand away, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating. Why had David come to him? Surely he couldn’t have presumed to use the closeness they’d once had to further whatever agenda he had? “I’m a scientist, David, trying to make the world a better place, just as you are. We are working for the advancement of science and for the good of the Fatherland.” The last sentence came out sounding like the mantra it was. Any doubts that Kristopher had were always dealt with efficiently when he repeated those words. While he knew the potential danger of the device they were working on, the chances of anyone considering utilizing the catastrophic component of it were remote.

“You always were naïve, Lehrer.” David raked a hand through his hair and replaced his glasses, adjusting them when they slipped down his nose. “Wake up and take a look at what’s going on around you before it’s too late.” An edge of desperation and fear sharpened his voice as he lowered it to almost a whisper; it sounded as though he was talking about the end of the world.

“Too late? Too late for what?” His earlier fears of being used vanished at David’s tone. Kristopher’s voice rose in pitch, all attempts of hiding his conflicting emotions lost as he tried to desperately work through his rapidly escalating confusion.

David shook his head, unwilling to say more, his eyes darting nervously around the small Kaffeehaus before his gaze settled on the man who had entered several minutes earlier. “I have to go. I’ve said too much already.”

“Wait!” David was already halfway out the door before the word was out of Kristopher’s mouth. He pushed his chair back, ready to follow his friend, then hesitated, suddenly unsure as to what had just happened.

A week later, dining at home with his sister Clara (whom he loves and depends on) and his father (with whom he has a strained relationship), he is shocked to hear that David has disappeared, and clueless as to why such a thing had happened. What’s more, he is just as dumbfounded when Clara says (on page 11)…

“Poor Kristopher.” Clara rolled her eyes. “You’re so involved in your work that you haven’t noticed what’s going on around you.” There was no teasing in her voice now. Whatever this was about, it was something very serious. “It’s because he’s Jewish, of course.”

… as he is when his father says…

“They are Jewish, Kristopher. What other reason is needed? Better that they are rounded up and sent somewhere more suited for their place in the scheme of things. We must not lose sight of the fact that the Jews are nothing more than parasites interested in taking control of the economy for themselves.”

We, the readers can take our first lesson from this, and the downhill spiral of father-son relations that follow. Please take this down in your notebooks. It will be on the test:

The longer you keep your head stuck in the clouds of denial (about anything, really), the more it hurts to pull it out.

Our next unit of study follows Kristopher as he goes about his work the next day. The clouds around his head have been disturbed, but not quite dislodged. Feeling cranky and a little wooly due to a poor night’s sleep, he enters his boss’s office when the boss is out, and rather clumsily knocks a pile of papers on the floor, and reads this sentence on one of them:

Cue ominous music.

We look forward to putting these plans into reality. Such a device will ensure the continued success of the Fatherland during this war against our enemies.

Kristopher’s head falls from the clouds with a mighty thud, which hurts and can’t be ignored even by a dreamy physicist.

Gott im himmel, as my very German mother would have said. Here Kristopher had been, believing he was working on nuclear fission for peaceful purposes, and suddenly he realized he’d been living in a lollipop world.

For a number of minutes, our scientist is unable to think straight. He knows what he saw, but he’s unsure of what he might do about it, or even how to keep from getting in trouble for standing in his boss’s office with his pants down (figuratively of course, because that would be far too weird).

But a guard comes along, Obergefreiter (Sargent) Schmitz, and helps him organize his brain and move his body, thank goodness. Of course, at first, Kristoffer is afraid that Schmitz will actually contribute to his danger, but he soon realizes he was lucky the Obergefrieter came along. He leaves the office that day still waffling about what to do. Like most ordinary Germans of the day, he loves his country and has some significant blind spots about it—a phenomenon not unknown at any age of the world in just about any country, including all of those where readers of this blog might be living today. But you don’t become a leading physicist if you are slow-witted. Once Kristopher’s sight is forcibly cleared, he cannot escape the truth about the leaders of the Nazi regime and what their intentions are.

After much soul-searching, presumably some hand-wringing, and a few horrid nightmares, Kristopher Lehrer confronts his boss… and is told in no uncertain way to mind his own business. The encounter goes from bad to worse. (You can read about this in home study, chapter three of the text.) When he is discovered in the room with his dead boss by the same Obergefreiter Schmitz, he figures his number is up.

Thank heaven for pleasant surprises, large and small. When Schmitz asks Kristopher if, as smart as he is, he can come up with no better plan than to threaten the guard with broken glass, here’s what happens (at the beginning of chapter four).

“My plan? […] I don’t have a plan. […] Do you honestly think I would be standing here waving a piece of broken glass if I had a plan.”

“Good point,” Schmitz admitted.

[Text elided by blogger… er, I mean university professor Lou Sylvre. Kristopher says:]

“Have you come to hand me over to the Nazis?” Whatever happened he didn’t intend to go easily.

The corner of Schmitz’s mouth turned up in a half smile before he shook his head. “I’m here to help you, Herr Dr. Lehrer.”

“You expect me to believe you?” Kristopher wished the desk behind him would disappear into thin air, although it still wouldn’t be of much help as Schmitz was blocking the path to the only door. “I know you’ve followed me for the past week.” He noticed the slight look of surprise on Schmitz’s face with a degree of satisfaction.

“You need to trust me, Dr. Lehrer.”

You may guess that Kristopher isn’t so sure that’s the best course of action, but like people everywhere when they’re in danger and want to trust someone, he looks for a way to do so.

“Give me one good reason.”

“The Nazis will be here in, Schmitz said, consulting his watch, approximately ten minutes. Either you trust me, or you tell them what you’ve just told me. I doubt they will believe your story.”

His voice softened. “I do.”

Now, students, you may have guessed that the Obergefreiter isn’t really the Obergefreiter. His real name is Michel, and he’s not even German. And his interest in Kristopher, like Kristopher’s trust of Michel, soon weaves into a whole new feeling. After negotiating much hell and highwater together, Michel soothes a startled, overwhelmed Kristopher in his own native tongue.

“A l’aise, Kit. Je suis ici… Ssh, tout est bien.”

Yes, Michel is there and all is well for the moment. There’s a whole lot more trouble to face, more evil to evade, more heroes to meet—all kinds, German, foreign, soldiers, everyday people. But Michel does whatever he needs to do to keep Kristopher alive. And since this is Gay Romance University, it isn’t giving away secrets to let you know, that once Michel has seen to the matter of Kristopher’s continued existence, he gets the opportunity to use a little French term of endearment.

“It’s all right, mon cher. I love you. I’m not letting you go.”

That is the end of our lesson, today. If you are interested in learning more on the subject, click the cover image above for a link to the blurb and purchase links. (And while you’re there, check out the continuation of this beautiful story in book two of the Echoes of War series, Winter Duet.

I thank Anne Barwell, Kristopher, and Michel for the privilege of treating the serious story of one of the world’s most painful times with a bit of irreverence. Truthfully, the heroes in this story are a reflection of all the real life heroes on every side of that war and every other, especially the quiet ones not lauded in headlines. They all deserve our gratitude, and I take no such service or sacrifice lightly.

Thanks for reading, everybody! If you’d like to check out or revisit the rest of the GRU posts, just go to

#comes a horseman #dsp publications #echoes rising #Gay romance #historical #shadowboxing #winter duet

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orchideae · 2 months

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The attire dissection, folks. (Part 1)

A friend of mine (@spiderwarden) sent an ask a while back about how Yelan would go about putting herself together in terms of attire, and I remember going 'christ', because how do you begin dissecting most outfits that look almost too maddening to explain, in an anime-style game where outfits are often ridiculous and not meant to be explained 'realistically'. But then I realized that this is miHoYo, and this is their Genshin Impact, which means that the devil will always reside in the details. And personally, I like this little devil a lot. Now, I'd always noticed a few things, but they initially seem tied into a whole bunch of illogical 'outfitting', but her outfit is really actually not illogical at all. Let me see if I can explain this coherently.

(Zoomed in version here) The subject in question: the beautiful Yelan— okay, okay, I'll stop fawning, fine. Any way, I always looked at her outfit as a two-piece, a full length bodysuit of some kind (what are those called again?), with an overcoat which holds all of those blue accents in her attire. And I was never sure whether her shoes were boots and if they were, where they ended because I saw no proper cuff/top. I was so torn, I even once thought they were somehow tied into the bodysuit, because I genuinely couldn't make out the top of them! Yes, welcome to the 'illogical anime outfit thinking', but let's be honest, it's done commonly enough in that area of media. But no, the basis of her outfit is actually not that complex at all, and is rather realistic. What is complex, is the intense amount of 'personalization' of each piece , the thought that went into them and what inspired them. But that will be for for part 2.

It is technically a three-piece, a bodysuit, an overcoat and thigh high boots. To elaborate: first up, at the very base of it is a halter bodysuit that has a very low-cut back and shorts, it looks very close to something like this in shape. On top of that, as you can see rather clearly in her outfit, it is entirely see-through/mesh and is customized with fish-netting, cut-outs and various other detailing on the front (some of which rather intricate I might add, as this bodysuit may have been chosen for practical reasons, but has in that light, been fully altered to her tastes). Yelan, as per a teapot voiceline ("I'm guessing you've fallen for the rumors about me being very wealthy and having high demands for my standards of living?"), isn't someone who spends mora on things easily, but when she does for practical purposes, it's when she may splurge a bit, but it's not without reason entirely. But I digress a bit, because that's a topic for another day. Secondly, is the overcoat, this is the piece that's most easily identified by all the blues and it covers a fair bit of the bodysuit, it is also secured around the neck in a halter-design, it covers the 'outline' of her upper-chest, leaving her back bare as well, and it hangs down towards the front, ending roughly where her bodysuit does as well. And then thirdly, there's the boots, which are thigh-high and end exactly where you see the diagonal lines towards the front of her upper legs (if you look at any of the sideviews, you'll note the difference in elevation between the shaft of her boot and her leg).

What draws me most though, is the bodysuit. It's incredibly aesthetically pleasing in terms of its design, with the decision of the mesh material, along with the very specific decisions on details (ie: the fishnetting on her right side, the cut-out on its left half, the straps across her hips hiding the more intimate item of dress underneath them, and especially the separate design on the front that you'd more so find on those high-waist old-school sailor shorts with the bigger buttons at the front). The fact that it's a halter design, truly offers a more secure hold than honestly anything else would, as shoulder straps tend to slip from your shoulders (and especially being slender as she is, it becomes increasingly impossible to find something that will never slip), and strapless is absolutely not doable with all of the movement that she does. In essence, a bodysuit of this sort of design would be skintight but stretchy enough to allow for proper movement as she's really rather agile, but considering how secure of a hold it offers, it also means that (apologies for the TMI), there may not be any need for a bra, as the bodysuit would offer it, in its stead. But this also plays into practicality: the less layers, the better. I also wonder about this latter detail, because there is no sign or trace of any bra straps anywhere at all, and a halter-design bra also would be apparent somewhere. Nope, I think that darker part that you see covering her breasts is actually part of the bodysuit, and very intricately designed. I think this damn piece of clothing might be one of the most intricate parts of her outfit. I actually did find a modder that removed the 'drape' part of the overcoat that covers her abdomen, but left the upper portion of it (but you can tell from the images at the top of the post that these two 'parts' are a one piece that overlaps, due to the difference in elevation)— any way, this mod actually shows half of the frontal design of the bodysuit. Again, be aware that the part covering her chest area (the blue on one side, white on the other) is not part of the bodysuit, and instead is part of her overcoat. If she took it off, those would be gone. Now imagine the boots to be gone (which again, go up to the diagonal stripe designs at the front), and you're left with the bodysuit!

Honestly, all of this draws a magnificent image for me in my head. The sight of when she retires either in her home outside of the city, in Yanshang, or the home I headcanon that she's properly bought in Qiaoying Village (properly purchased, mind you, to help the villagers) at some point, for the night. When she takes off her boots, it would be quite casual and relaxed to see her in the bodysuit and the overcoat that covers it. And if in privacy, or around those she's more at ease around (granted, there would be nothing 'sexual' about it, she's very practical and very realistic, and there's nothing intentionally 'sexy' about it unless she intends for it to be), she'd even forego the overcoat. Yelan, walking around preparing her tea, barefoot and with her legs almost entirely bare? The epiphany of peaceful, in my head.

And a little bit of an extraordinary and beautiful sight, but that's just me... sorry, I couldn't restrain myself any longer. Hi hello, my name is Sae, and thank you for having read part 1 of my lunacy in terms of her outfit. Part 2 will focus on the actual design of the overcoat and bodysuit, and what was likely used as inspiration for her. I'm unsure whether I'll add in her hair, and accessories into that post, it'll all depend on how long it gets. But there's the intention any way.

#[ meta. ] the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you?#[ aven i'll never be able to write as much and as fast as you-- but gdi. i'll still write. ]#[ /distracts with chocolate so i can absorb some of the energy. ]#[ but also! I DID IT. MEL THANK YOU. literally scrolling by your ask is what made me re-analyze her outfit again. ]#[ and don't worry; i'll answer the ask at one point too-- but this first needed to go in a separate post. ]

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orchideae · 3 months

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Weapons and their tie to Visions. (Beloved Aqua Simulacra, one day you'll be mine.) Alright, I did some hunting this morning because of something that I've been wanting to settle on for a while now (specifically: Yelan, where is your massive bow 98% of the time), and then I vaguely remembered a voice-line that gives me peace about 'confirming' the headcanon. So let me preface this post with the traveler's 'About: Storing Weapons':

Paimon: Hey, do that again! You know, that thing! Traveler: Which one? Paimon: The one where you make your weapon disappear with a swish, and then, fwoosh — you make it appear behind your back again! Traveler: Oh, that? Haven't you seen that a ton already? Paimon: But Paimon hasn't figured out how you do it yet. Could you explain it? Traveler: Well, can you explain how you suddenly appear in front of me, and then disappear just as suddenly? Paimon: Uh… well… Paimon seems to have always been able to do this. But Paimon doesn't know how… Traveler: Precisely. I believe that the art of putting my weapon away follows the same principle.

The only ones who actively seem to 'summon' their weapons out of thin air, are the traveler, allogenes (Vision holders) and gods/adepti. I'm going off top of my head here, and there may be exceptions, but if we look at the Hilichurls, the Millelith, the Eremites, and even the Meka, they seem to actually be carrying their weapons around when they make use of one in battle. And between even those examples, we even touch on different 'types' of humans (Hilichurls) and even mechanical constructs, and none seem to summon their weapons.

This makes sense to me, because if summoning their weapons would be tied to their vision(s), which we know don't have human origins, we're then speaking, in layman terms, about some sort of otherworldly power or what humans would perceive as a form of 'magic', whether this is something they're more familiar with or not. A lot of these weapons seem to also be tied to the element of their vision, like Aqua Simulacra (Yelan's bow), is said to be able to summon water, just like "many other curious weapons of the world" (x). So it makes sense to me on many levels that they're rather tied to the influence of the gods and/or sovereigns of the world, and what do allogenes have that is directly tied to the elements? Their vision.. Something unusual, something seemingly magic.

#[ meta. ] the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you?#[ this will also make its way into my writing/threads. if yelan ends up in some sort of altercation in a thread and she's fighting-- ]#[ and her bow is there. she summons it out of thin air and it disappears just as easily. ]#[ /this is why/. ]#[ look at me-- i tried to keep it short and i semi-succeeded! ]

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orchideae · 5 months

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When I approach Yelan (or anyone else I've written), I don't just look directly at her character, but I also look at her surroundings. Both the ones that she knows by some semblance of necessity, but also those that she chooses. Like here, I talked about the Chasm, and what being 'okay' with existing down there needs to mean for a character, because it's not normal. Someone's surroundings, room, or home say a lot bout who they are and what their mindset, or specifically, their perspective is of the world. And sometimes, I think it says more about people than even the characters realize.

This brings me to the topic of the city of Fontaine. Now, I personally think it's rather obvious that a lot of the nation takes from historical France, and so when looking at it, I think it really adds to remember its monarchy, the view that the 'common folk' had of it, and its inevitable demise to non-existence today in terms of importance as a result. So my first question is, who constructed or decided on its layout? Was it Furina, Neuvillette, Egeria? Whoever it was, there's a lot that can be said about their view of the world and their placement in it when you look at locations of buildings. Look at where Palais Mermonia, its governing body, is located within the city; it sits at a rather astounding elevation in comparison to, well, everything and everyone else in the city. This frequently represents the concept of 'distance' between groups in one way or another, and seeing the consistency in other nations, this is something that is rather intriguing to me, especially keeping Fontaine's characters in mind (and considering this is the nation of 'justice'). Mondstadt has everything almost entirely uniform, with arguably the church on the highest level (but it isn't greatly elevated in comparison to all else), but it's joined with the plaza and statue which are a common gathering site for all people in the city. Liyue had the gods and adepti visibly living among the humans back in the days of the Guili Assembly for reasons of 'integration' (my apologies to numerous from our dear Guizhong!) The fact that numerous adepti now live far outside of the harbor is a different matter entirely, and the one who seems to function within a semblance of separation of sorts is Ningguang with the Jade Chamber (but I'm not one to speak on behalf of her character as I don't bear the knowledge). Inazuma also has the Tenshukaku at a higher elevation in comparison to the rest of Inazuma City. Sumeru is interesting, but ultimately Nahida was kept at the very peak of the city, far out of reach of humanity— but that's exactly the common denominator that has my interest, the distance between the 'governing body' and humanity for one reason or another.

But Fontaine really takes separation to a different level in my opinion (and again, think of this when you think of the person having designed the whole city), not only because of the above which I'll elaborate more on in a moment, but also its separation from the outside world. Now, this is interesting to think about if you keep in mind that it was perhaps done in eventual protection of the city's inhabitants in terms of the prophecy (which means that this would have been constructed anywhere during or after Egeria's reign), but then why is only Palais Mermonia far above the water's reach? If the walls surrounding the city were ever breached during said prophecy, all its inhabitants are pretty much immediately caught in the flood and would drown, which tells me nothing positive of the city's 'architect' or whoever signed off on the designs. But if not done for the prophecy, then why? Stand in the middle of the Court of Fontaine and really look around you, the only sights you really have of the outside world are the sky, and it's obstructed by a fair bit of the waterways and gardens that hang overhead, which you can only properly enjoy when you take the ages long elevator to the upper level where the palace is located (which, credit due, seems freely accessible to everyone in present-time). But if you don't venture up, how much of the outside world do you get to see? It feels very secluded, very much under lock and key. On some level (and this is one of the many reasons why I think that the Meropide is so excessively important in Fontaine and it's likely why we spent so much time there; it's all to show the ever, ever important contrast and nuance between this 'autonomous nation within Fontaine' and, well, 'Fontaine'), it almost feels like a prison, regardless of how pretty it may look or come across (and despite not 'lacking rights'). And considering how people in the Meropide speak of not always wanting to return back to the 'overworld' following their sentence, I think that there's definitely quite a bit of truth in that. But again, stand there and look around for yourself.

Now to return to the original topic, but keeping the last one in mind as well, look at one other thing that I'm unsure how many have really kept an eye on: the massive effect Palais Mermonia's level has on the rest of the area (inside and outside of its walls). Have you ever walked through the city of Fontaine at any given time of day or night, north to south, east to west, clockwise or counter-clockwise circling through it; have you ever seen how it overshadows an immense part of the streets below it either entirely on its own (which to me signifies a very domineering presence), or together with those outer walls that surround the city? I know how I've spoken thoroughly with people before about how much I enjoy Fontaine and how dark it is in its storytelling, but despite how gorgeous this region with its water- and landscapes are; its city bears quite a heavy weight to me. I don't know who designed it, or ordered it to be constructed in this way, but nothing about the city itself truly, rationally, shows a healthy perspective versus its citizens.

Me: /continues on to ramble in tags because I'm me and I'm a nuisance with always more to say than I know how to coherently put into these posts.

#[ meta. ] the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you?#[ i love how i'm writing a liyue-based character and here i am rambling about fontaine. ]#[ listen my little french heart just ached at this. i've been sitting on it for so long and have been wanting to talk about it. ]#[ but every time i hear 'fontaine is so pretty' -- i agree. i truly do. and the city has become my new 'hub' away from liyue harbor... ]#[ which says a ton in itself. ]#[ so trust me when i say i enjoy it and find it gorgeous. but i don't have any real kind words to spare on who designed it. ]#[ and i don't mean that in an insulting/bad kind of way but more so in the sense of-- whichever god likely designed this-- ]#[ how much worth was placed where; you know? ]#[ this is why i find the gods and all of their differing views so inherently interesting. ]#[ but then i also sit here longer and think more of the meropide. ]#[ and how THAT is supposed to be the prison. hmmmm. and yet /that/ is the place many seem to not want to leave anymore. ]#[ the place that is run and made better by the person whose tragic case was entirely missed and neglected by the authorities. ]#[ ah yes; the meropide. aka meropis-- the retelling (was it a parody? i believe so) of plato's story of atlantis. ]#[ which was sunk by the gods as punishment to its people for leading lives they deigned morally unjust and petty and /greedy/. ]#[ ah yes. the references never end. ]#[ granted we know how the meropide came to be-- so if egeria was in charge of that. chances are she likely was for fontaine as well. ]#[ well-- ]#[ well. ]#[ yep. i have more to say but i'm struggling to find my words-- so here we are for now! ]

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