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magics-neptunes-things · 1 month

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Kiss Me More

Hi guys :)

I had a request for the last chapter for the serie "Kiss Me", so here it is :)

I hope it will suits you, dear anon.

Enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of cheating

PART 1 | PART 2

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Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you were hoping to be for several weeks before it happens. You both needed a little of adjustment at first, Katie was sometimes a little bit reluctant to pass to much time with you. You were hurt at first, thinking that she finally wasn’t interested to the idea of making things with you. When she realized that she hurt you, you had an explanation, where she basically told you that she didn’t want things to go to fast. Because a part of her was always scared of something going wrong or something.

You were great now, she isn’t the most demonstrative person in the world, at least when you are not alone. You can live with that actually, both of you decided to hide your relationship to the public for now. Not all of your teammates know about your relationship, but the ones who are your friends know.

Katie makes a point to let you understand that she is in charge in this relationship, but as bossy as she wants to be, you can only see how much she looks for you. When you are not coming to work together, she always waits for you in the locker room to have her kiss before going to training. When you are eating with other of your teammates at the training facilities, she always sneaks her chocolate to you. And you can say that she remembers everything you tell her.

Your favorite chocolate, your favorite flower, your favorite color, the name of the cat you had when you were a kid, where you like to go for a walk, your favorite TV show… She knows everything and she is always proud about it.

That’s the kind of things that makes you realize that she really cares about you.

********

“Do you really need to go?” you ask in a pouting tone, wrapped around your girlfriend.

Katie needs to go, you know that. She has to go to Ireland for the national break. You stay in London yourself, your ankle being a little sore and Australia only playing friendly, both of your teams decide to let you rest. You’re a little sad not to go have fun with Caitlin, Steph and Kyra, but you will next time.

“Yes, I have to. But I still could take you in my pocket” she smirks.

“I think I’d like that” you smile back.

Katie laughs and you cuddle even more against her, trying to get as much from your girlfriend as possible. It’s only two weeks, but you don’t like when she’s not around. She seems a little less needy than you are, but she never said anything about your behavior with her. Katie being very honest, you know that she would have said something if she didn’t like something you do.

You feel her shiver when you take a big breath in her neck and you smile, letting your finger run on the skin of her abs. But she knows what you’re doing, because several seconds after, she takes your hand in hers.

“We don’t have time for that, my pretty lady.”

“Can’t make it quick?” you tease.

“Not with you.”

She kisses you and you let her, distractedly asking yourself if it’s a compliment or not. But you soon come back to reality, Katie will leave in some minutes now. You’re at her house, you’ve got her cat’s supervision while she’s away. Ella, her sister, has too but she will rejoin her for the game in Ireland in some days.

You will not, because it would be too risky to do it. People would easily understand what’s happening if you go to the game. And with the social media, it would be impossible to hide. You know it. You’re still a little sad, but you don’t say anything to Katie about it.

She seems a little sad when she says goodbye to you at her door. The way she puts your hair behind your ear before kissing you softly say it all. You don’t need Katie to words what she’s feeling because you can feel it too.

“Write me?” you ask when she takes you against her one more time.

“Course. You too, ok?”

You nod, not trusting your voice at this moment. You hide your face on her neck one last time, breathing her sent. But you know you have to let her go; her Uber won’t wait for her forever.

After a last-minute recommendation about Coopurr, she kisses you a last time before running to the car with her suitcase. You can’t help but smile, waving back at her when she does from the back seat.

********

Katie lost her first game against France and in your opinion, it wasn’t really deserved. Maybe you are biased, but Katie would have deserved to score the goal at the 86th minute. She’s still fuming about her teammates fail and you try to distract her while showing her cat.

It’s seems to work, Coopurr’s purring making her smile. Ella left this morning, and you feel a little lonely here. Thanks god, Lia is in London too and you have someone you like to pass time with you. She is dog-sitting one of the dogs of your teammates and you wonder how it would look like when some of them would have children too.

You were actually walking Calvin with Lia, when you receive a message from one of your friends. You don’t really like when someone send you a “Have you seen that?!” with an article. You were not walking fast because of Lia’s leg, so you don’t have to slow to read it. Maybe sitting on a bench would have been a clever idea though.

You are currently reading an article of a girl, explaining how she slept with Katie McCabe. Your girlfriend. You know that Katie had some hookup before things are getting different between you, but the timing isn’t good. Katie and you are together for four months now. And this girl is literally talking about last week, exactly the day when Katie and her teammates went to a bar to decompress from the training. When you said to Katie that you find it strange, she laughs and answered “Meh we are Irish. Beer is in our DNA.” Which made you laugh at the time, but you are far from laughing right now.

“What’s going on?”

You realize that Lia called your name almost two times before you raise your face to look at her. Not being able to talk, you just give her your phone. You watch closely at her face when she reads it, and you see her passing from questioning to shock. She looks at you straight in the eyes when she gives you your phone back.

“Do you think that’s true?”

There is a lump in your throat that keeps you from talking right. You try to swallow it before talking.

“There are a lot of details.”

Lia nods. There are a lot of details. About Katie and her flat in Dublin, the same one where Ella was living before coming to London too.

“Come on, let’s go home. You need to call Katie.”

********

You did not call Katie, but you didn’t answer her messages or her call either. You know it’s stupid and maybe a little immature. But you cannot face it now. The betrayal is too hard to support, and you cried so much that you are not sure that your eyes will be white again one day.

You still take care of Coopurr though, the cat not leaving your side when you are at Katie’s house. You know she can see you coming if she wants, she installed security cameras outside and inside the house. Other than that, you just go to your flat to sleep the most that you can. You do not want to face this, maybe if you keep hiding the pain will fade away.

It doesn’t. You are startled awake two days after, with loud banging against your door. You hesitate to go answering, but you are clearly in fear that the person will break your door if you don’t get up.

So, you do, trying to arrange your hair in a messy bun. You are wearing Katie’s Irish away jumper and a pair of black Nike shorts. You’re pathetic. But Lia seems to be more relieved than judgy about your appearance when she sees you. She has her phone in her hand, but the relieved soon let place to a frown.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Sleeping?”

She grunts and close the door behind her when she comes in your flat. Thanks god you cleaned last night, tired to be in a messy place.

“Why aren’t you answering to Katie?”

“I can’t” you whisper, following her in the living room.

Lia turns around to look at you and her face softens when she sees you. She hesitates several seconds, before handing you her phone.

“Well, do it now.”

You look at the screen to realize that she was already calling someone for almost 45 minutes already. It’s Katie. Lia encourages you to take it with another nod of her head. You sigh and take it, letting yourself fall in the couch behind you.

“Hello?” you mumble.

“Bloody hell, where were you?!”

You wince at Katie’s tone, Lia taping your shoulder in an attempt of recomfort before leaving for the kitchen. You appreciate the intimacy she offers you, but you would have preferred to have her with you to be honest.

“Why aren’t you answering to any of my text or call? What happened?”

Katie seems on verge of breaking down and that’s maybe what made you snap. You don’t shout with Katie; you know that it doesn’t make any sense to do it with her. She’s loud, but you were always able to talk about things without shouting.

“I don’t know, you tell me?” you say icily.

“I don’t understand.”

You can easily imagine her with her eyebrows frown. You sigh before rolling your eyes. If she wants proof, you’re going to give some to her.

“I’ll send you something. After that, if you have something more to tell me, call me back.”

You don’t wait for her answer before hanging up. You take your phone, looking for the article your friend sent you. You didn’t answer to him, but right now, it doesn’t matter. You sent the link to Katie, before going to the kitchen to give Lia her phone back.

“Do you want me to stay, or can I leave?” the Swiss captain asks.

“You can go, Wally. Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime. Call me, ok?”

You smile slightly and nod, letting her kiss your cheek before she leaves. You just have closed the door behind her when your phone start ringing. It’s Katie, requiring a FaceTime. You answer and Katie’s face is almost white when you see her.

“This is bullshit. I never did that, I swear.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You are honestly so tired, the amount of sleep you had those past hours are not very good. And sad, of course.

“I don’t know, Katie” you whisper.

“No, it’s the truth! You have to believe me, baby please.”

“How can she know all of these things, Kat?” you say wearily. “She even knows that you have a birthmark on your tummy, or how your kitchen is decorated.”

“Ella always made TikTok in that flat before she comes to London! And for my birthmark, it probably visible on some pictures. You know that I give my jersey to kids sometimes after the game. People take me on picture every time.”

You let several seconds passed, trying to listen to her. The last part is true, you saw thousand pictures of your girlfriend in sport bra on the football fields. For the second part you don’t see her making things like this, particularly with the fact that you just have to go on TikTok to see if it’s the truth or not.

“Come on Babe, why in the world would I ask you out if it’s just for sleeping around soon after?”

“I don’t know.”

You are desperate. You want to believe her, of course you do. You know she has sometimes trouble with talking about her feelings, but you never thought about her cheating on you. She’s one of the most loyal persons you know.

“You know what? I’m taking a plane right now.”

“What?”

Katie is suddenly moving, and the noise of a suitcase that is open is audible from the phone.

“No Katie, you can’t do that. You have training tomorrow and a game in two days against England.”

“I don’t give a damn fuck.”

You almost roll your eyes.

“Katie, stop.”

She listens and look at you, her face dark and her eyebrow frown. She looks determined but she still stopped when you asked her.

“You can’t do that” you repeat.

“Well come to Ireland. I’ll sent you the ticket for the plane.”

“Katie…”

“Stop calling me that!” she shouts.

“Calling you what?” you ask, frowning.

“Katie.”

She says it like it’s a bad world or something and this time you can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“It’s your name?” you point.

“You stopped calling me that after we start dating. Stop calling me Katie and come to Dublin. Please.”

********

That’s how you find yourself in a plane for Dublin, reserved by Katie who put you in first class. You roll your eyes when you realize it and sent her a picture of you in your seat when you are in the plane. Since your call, Katie almost never stops calling or texting you. You don’t understand how she managed to get the time to go to training, but she does. And the pictures of her on Instagram can say you that it’s the truth.

She warned you that she won’t be able to come to pick you at the airport, but you are surprised to see a man with your name on a paper waiting for you. He smiles at you, informing you that Katie sent him to drive you to her hotel.

He talks to you about Dublin and some places during the journey to the hotel, while you are looking by the window. You never went to Ireland before, only for football. Maybe Katie will show you around if you manage to forget your fight. And you definitively need to change the idea you made in your head that Katie really cheated on you.

You know that some of your friends saw the article too, but no one talked about it to you. Maybe because you were ignoring everyone, true.

When you arrive, you hide behind your hood because you don’t want anyone to recognize you for now. You’re really fearing to find yourself facing Ruesha, for example. Katie told you her room number and your hands are shaking when you knock on the door of her hotel room.

It took her several seconds to respond, but she finally opens the door. She looks tired honestly, but she’s at camp so it’s maybe not surprising. She froze a little when she sees you, like if she doesn’t believe that you will actually come. You’re the one breaking the silence, rather awkwardly to be honest.

“Hi” you whisper, waving your hand.

Thanks god, Katie doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t laugh, taking you against her. Hard.

“You’re here” she whispers while holding you.

You nod, finding solace in her embrace. You missed her, obviously. It would have felt better to find her without all this drama though. She lets you go only several minutes after, not only releasing you totally. She looks at you and you look back, both of you not knowing where to start.

“I’m sorry for the article” Katie finally says after some time.

You shrug, not knowing what you could answer to that. She doesn’t ask for it, cheating or not cheating.

“Do you believe me now?”

You know that the answer to the question is important for her. Like you said, Katie’s loyal. And it’s one of the things who are the most important for her. You know it, you know Katie.

“I think I do” you finally say very slowly.

You see that Katie is looking at your face and your eyes with attention, maybe looking for any trace of doubt from your part. You believe her, that doesn’t mean that the article was forgotten. The way you felt when you first read it is still very perennial in you.

“Yeah?” she asks softly.

You nod, smiling very lightly when she strokes your cheek. She gives you the impression that you are made of glass, and you don’t know if she ever been so delicate with you.

“Come sit down.”

She takes you by the hand and you let her drag you in her bed. You sit here, next to her, with your back against the headboard. Katie sits in front of you, playing with her thumb and her nails.

“I’m going to talk, but if you have something to say please feel free to stop me, ok?” Katie asks.

You nod, looking at her. You are curious to know what she might want to tell you. Does she even know that girl? Or did that girl create all this story?

“I know that I’m maybe not the perfect girlfriend and I know that our relationship didn’t really start like it was supposed to. I’ll always had a thing for you, but I was scared, I was an asshole, and it was honestly easier for me to just sleep with you and try to pass to something else. That’s what I tried to do, but it didn’t work. I was still thinking about you, even more than before.”

Katie stops to take a breath and you are still looking at her, not saying a word for now. You don’t know if Katie thought about what to say to you, but for now you understand what she’s saying.

“I never slept with someone else since our first time, I couldn’t even if I tried and that scared the shit out of me. It was so hard to deal with the breakup with Ruesha, not because I was still in love with her, but because it was so shit, you know? I really don’t want to have to deal with that once again.”

You nod slowly, still not talking. This point makes you a little uneasy to be honest. You knew that Katie’s ex will be here to the camp. And you don’t know how the hell are all the people doing, because it was hard for you to be ok with the fact that Ruesha was seeing Katie every day and not you.

“But then there was this damn girl hitting on you right in front of me and I couldn’t support it. I was only thinking that you were mine, but you weren’t. And at that point I didn’t know if you wanted to be mine or if my behavior ruined everything we could have. But you give me a chance, and I’ll be forever grateful for it. That’s why I will never do anything and take the risk to lose you, Y/N. I really care for you and you mean more to me than you think.”

Katie never talked to you about her feelings the way she is doing now. You are touched, of course. You were in love with her before you slept together for the first time, not thinking a second that she might be interested in you too. She seems so vulnerable now, her voice shaking a little at the end. Maybe it’s the emotions, maybe it’s because how much she talked. Maybe both.

You softly take her hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together.

“I really care about you too. That’s why this… things was so hard to read. I don’t understand why someone would invented something like that.”

“I dunno. For celebrity maybe”

Katie shrugs, not really having interest in that for now. All that mattered to her right now is being sure that you trust her. That you believe her and she didn’t lose you.

“Are we good?” she asks, searching for your eyes.

“You promise that nothing happened?”

“I swear on Coopurr’s head, babygirl.”

“Ok” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

You can’t hide the fact that this is the first time that you laugh since you red this article on the park with Lia.

“Hug?”

Katie opens her arms with a slight smile and you don’t hesitate once second before going for her. Your movement make you both fall in the bed and you smile when you hear Katie’s laugh. You missed it. You missed her.

“God I missed you” Katie mumbles from under you, reading in your mind.

“I missed you too” you say honestly, letting your head rest against her shoulder.

She just hums, stroking your back softly while steering at the ceiling. You feel yourself dozen, you haven’t really had a good sleep those last days. But soon there is knock against Katie’s door and you jump.

“McCabe, diner!”

Katie sighs softly and release you to sit on the bed.

“Is it now that I leave?” you asks, not able to hide your disappointment.

“If you want to. Otherwise, you can wait for me here, I’ll sneak something for you to eat and we can sleep together. Tomorrow morning I’ll make my sister come to get you and you can come to the game?”

“Won’t people ask what the hell I am doing here?” you arch an eyebrow.

“That’s not their business. Unless it disturbs you.”

“It doesn’t”

“So it’s settled then” Katie shrugs, getting up from the bed.

She kisses you one more time before leaving and you decide to take the time to shower. You fall asleep while waiting for her, only taking the time to eat the sandwich and snacks she takes with her in the room before falling asleep again. You slept better in her arms than you did since like forever.

And the next day, when Ella came to take you to Katie’s flat at Dublin, you are feeling good again. Katie didn’t cheat on you.

Ireland didn’t win against England, but you are prouder than ever of your girlfriend. You decide to wear Katie’s jersey and to watch the game with her family in the stadium. Your presence didn’t went unnoticed, but like Katie said, you both didn’t care. To be honest, you even have fun to post what fans like to call soft launch.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader

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ckret2 · 4 months

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Chapter 34 of human Bill Cipher not making friends with Stan during his imprisonment in the Mystery Shack, featuring: the tooth fairy and her dentist attempting to steal Bill's teeth in the middle of the night. Stan would care a lot less if he weren't still handcuffed to Bill. And also: Stan and Bill have a friendly chat. As you can see.

####

Even though Bill and Stan were trying to watch the same TV as they had dinner, Bill refused to sit in the living room with Stan; so he sat on the bottom step of the stairs in the entryway, Stan perched on the end of the couch, and they strung the handcuffs around the doorway with their little plastic microwave dinner trays balanced on their knees.

Both of their dinners had come out undercooked. Both of them were too proud to complain.

After picking through maybe a third of his meal, Bill decided he'd rather go to bed hungry than eat something he didn't enjoy, dropped his tray on the floor, and kicked it into the kitchen. "Hey Stanley, still glad you went with the cuffs instead of the bracelets?"

"Shut up."

Bill smirked victoriously, and looked back to the TV. "No mayonnaise in Ireland."

"What?"

Bill pointed at the screen and the rows of blank letters waiting for contestants to fill them in. "The round that just started. That's the solution."

"Oh." Stan counted out all the blank letters, frowned, and said unconfidently, "It can't be that. It doesn't make any sense."

"You're wrong," Bill said lightly; and then fell silent, running the tip of his tongue over the new gold spots on his teeth.

When the contestants had guessed enough letters that one could hesitantly offer, "Is it... 'no mayonnaise in Ireland'?" Bill smirked triumphantly at the sound of Stan's silence. He just barely waited until the next board of blank letters flashed on the screen, and then announced, "Tip your waiter."

Stan counted the letters under his breath. "Man. I thought I was good at this, but we'd clean up if we put you on this show. No one would ever figure out how you're cheating."

Bill laughed. "Listen to you! If you were Ford, you'd just be mad that I'm giving away all the answers before you can guess. That's the great thing about you, Stanley: you don't get irritated at me for stupid little reasons. You're more fun." He took a deep breath and shouted, "Hey Ford, did you hear that?! Stan's the fun twin—!"

"Keep it down, you idiot. Ford's in the basement, he can't hear you." Stan had thought Bill was finally sobering up from the sedative; maybe not. (Then again, maybe this was just what he was like sober.) "And what are you talking about? You irritate me all the time!"

"Oh, well, I guess I just don't care when you're irritated." Bill laughed.

Stan grumbled, planted his chin in his hand, and tried to focus on Cash Wheel. It was difficult when he already knew the solution.

He tolerated the silence for less than a minute before sighing, looking toward the doorway, and demanding, "What's with you, anyway? Why are you so obsessed with my brother?"

Bill spluttered in disbelief. Stan could feel his handcuff chain jerk over. Voice even shriller than usual, Bill said, "Excuse m—Excuse me?! Obsessed? Moi?! I don't know what you're talking about!" He forced a loud laugh.

"If Ford's in the room, he's the only one you talk to, and when he isn't here you're yelling across the house for him—"

"Is it obsession to sometimes pay a little more attention to the human here I happen to know best and to whom I happen to be a teacher, muse, and friend—"

"Oh that's a load of bull," Stan snapped, "you're not any of those things! Friend? Friend? He wants you dead, you crazy—"

"Well if he does," Bill said, louder still, "then wouldn't it make perfect sense to keep my eye on the guy who killed me? There's no big mystery—"

"That's it! That's just it!" Stan tossed down his TV dinner and stood so he could face Bill properly. "He didn't kill you alone, remember? That was a two-man con you fell for! But you keep talking like Ford was the only one there!"

Without bothering to stand, Bill looked up at Stan and said, quite confidently, "Only one person killed me. You're just the place where I was killed."

"I wh...?" Stan fell silent, blinking at Bill in disbelief.

"Do you even remember what happened inside your brain? After you took my hand?" Bill asked. "You don't, do you?"

Stan glowered at Bill, but he shut his mouth and said nothing.

"I knew it." Bill laughed nastily. "We were both trapped in there when Fordsy fired the gun. Completely powerless. You were weeping and begging for a way out when the flames got too close, but there was nothing I could do by then—"

"All right," Stan took a threatening step closer, "I know that that didn't happen! I would never—"

Bill leaned back, hands raised palm out in appeasement, "Okay okay okay! All right, you got me—just embellishing the story a little—we actually had a big psychic laser battle. Imagined up all kinds of futuristic weapons. It was very 90's action movie. You did... fine, you were fine."

Stan considered that. "Ehh... sure, that sounds more like me."

"But it was all imaginary," Bill snapped. "It was a vast illusion! At that point there was nothing either of us could do to the other. We were just two victims locked inside a burning house as it came down around us. You didn't kill me, you never even had the power to kill me."

"Huh." That was all Stan said. But he kept looking at Bill, frowning distrustfully, studying him.

Bill's shoulders slowly went up under the pressure of Stan's gaze. "Oh—oh wow, okay, I see what's going on!" He gave Stan a crooked, mean smile. "You're jealous, aren't you? You thought offering up your body to be the scene of a murder finally made you a co-star instead of a sidekick! All your lives, Stanford got more attention from daddy, more attention from the teachers, more attention from the whole world... and you thought you'd finally get at least a little attention from the big bad living nightmare. Just because you let your brother shoot you in the head!" Bill laughed. "You weren't special enough for anyone else—why do you think you're special enough for me?"

Stan jerked Bill to his feet by the handcuff's chain. "I bet I'm special enough to break your face!" He dragged him into the living room, fist raised. "Let's see if you stay down this time—"

Bill scrambled back as far as the chain allowed him. "NO!" Horror filled the one ragged syllable. His free arm was raised to shield his terrified eye.

They froze, staring at each other.

Bill straightened up, forcing a nervous, rattled laugh. "Come on, I just got all this dental work done. At least give me a couple days to enjoy it before you pound it in!" He was talking fast to fill the silence. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind having a flatter face, all these bones and cartilage jutting out never did feel right—"

Stan feigned a punch.

Bill flinched.

Stan laughed at him, slapping his knee. "You big chicken! Look at you! Baw-baaawk-bgawk! HA!"

Bill tried, very hard, to explode Stan with his brain. This usually worked on people who dared try to insult Bill Cipher. "If I had one billionth of a billionth of my power, I'd have already destroyed you—!"

"But you don't, sucker!" Stan laughed louder.

Bill screamed in frustration, turned his back on Stan, and stomped upstairs to sulk.

Or, he would have, if he hadn't gotten one step up the stairs before the handcuffs yanked tight. He stumbled back, landed on his butt, and inadvertently jerked Stan down on one knee with a yelp.

Bill cast a resentful look at Stan—who was rubbing his shoulder and finally looking as irritated as Bill felt—and then he lay down and deliberately stared straight at the ceiling. "Whatever. I don't even care about your pointless mammal posturing. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I'm calm. You're just making yourself look stupid." Bill shut his eyes. "I wanna go to bed."

####

"Bill," Ford said.

Bill cracked open an eye and peered up at the form looming over his makeshift cushion bed. "Mrm?"

In a very calm voice that suggested he was not calm at all, Ford asked, "Why are you sleeping on the floor in front of my bedroom door."

"Oh. Right, you missed it." Bill yawned and sat up. "Well, you see, Stanley got us handcuffed together until tomorrow morning," he pointed at his cuffed wrist and rattled the chain, "and I tried to be accommodating, but he doesn't want to sleep in the attic and won't let me sleep in the guest room—"

Stan yelled through the door, "And Mr. Accommodating here still refuses to sleep on the sofa bed."

"—so the best compromise we've got is sleeping on the floor with the chain under the door. Not my idea of a fun evening, but." Bill shrugged ruefully, like an adult resigned to indulging the whims of a petulant child. "Do you want in? It'll take us a little coordination to get the door open, but we've already done this once, so—"

"I'm not messing with this," Ford said. "I'm sleeping in the basement. Good night, Stanley."

"Night, Ford."

Trying not to sound miffed at being snubbed, Bill said, "Hey, do you still keep your cot on that rug you used to channel me better?" He laughed.

"Nope. I burned that rug." Ford turned the corner and left.

Bill stuck his tongue out at his back. He didn't actually know whether Ford was lying. He wished he'd thought to check out Ford's study before heading down to the portal back when he'd had his time tape.

"Hey." He rapped on the bedroom door. "I thought we weren't asking Sixer for help so he wouldn't find out about the handcuffs." They hadn't actually discussed it, but he'd taken it for granted. "Now that he knows, why aren't we getting his help?"

"What, you think I need his help to solve all my problems? Ha!"

"Okay, fine. Doesn't matter to me, I'm used to sleeping on the floor." Bill lay back down and sighed.

He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

####

Bill wasn't quite dreaming, but for a few seconds it was something very close to a dream. He saw points of light in darkness. One of his earliest, oldest memories. He'd memorized the constellations outside of his plain when his starblind species didn't even have a word for "constellations."

But these weren't those points of light in darkness. Some nearer, some farther—he could sense their distance—and all of the lights were calling to him. All of his eyes. He could see so many more than he had last night.

One was just a few inches away. He could almost reach out and grab it.

But those few seconds of light-in-darkness were in the gray twilight between the dreamscape and the physical world, and Bill only fleetingly glimpsed them as he passed from sleep back to wakefulness. He opened his eyes.

To see a person looming over him.

And the taste of thick metal tools in his mouth.

"Hi," Bill said, for lack of anything better to say under these circumstances.

It was enough to make Dr. Illing gasp and stumble back from Bill. "Jeez." He clapped a hand over his heart. "I'm sorry— I-I didn't want to—"

"Uh-huh." Bill sat up and took the abandoned tool out of his mouth—pliers. They'd been gently clamped around one of his canine teeth. "Not the most unpleasant thing I've had aimed at my face in the middle of the night," Bill mused, "but it's pretty high on the list." He tried to lift his other hand to feel his face for damage—and only remembered the handcuff when the rattling chain caught his wrist in place.

They both looked at the cuff. As Dr. Illing realized Bill was trapped, a change came over his face—a desperate, crazed fury.

Bill shook his head. "Ohhh, no no no—"

"Give me that!" Dr. Illing lunged for Bill, one hand reaching toward the pliers and the other toward his throat, trying to pin him against the door.

Bill shoved his feet in Dr. Illing's chest, trying to hold him back. "Stanley!" He pounded on the door with the pliers. "We have visitors, wake up!"

"It'll only take a second," Dr. Illing insisted. "You were going to give me one anyway! And that tooth is already loose! You can handle the pain! Just—hold still, I can't damage it!" He managed to get his thumb in Bill's mouth—he cringed when Bill bit down, but didn't back off—and pulled a fresh set of pliers out of his tool bag.

Bill parried the pliers with his own pair. "STAAAN—"

The door unlatched and Bill tumbled backward into the room. He twisted out of the dentist's way, slid the handcuff chain out from under the door, and skittered behind Stan.

"Wha—what's—?" Stan squinted into the dark hallway. "The heck's going on?"

Bill stretched to Stan's nightstand and grabbed up his glasses and hearing aids. "Put your face on!" He shoved them in Stan's hands, then reached back for his dentures.

Stan put his glasses on first. "What the— Illing? What are you doing here?"

Dr. Illing stood forlorn in the hallway, trembling all over, eyeing Stan nervously. "Uhhh," he said eloquently. "I just..." He gestured around Stan's shoulder toward Bill, "wanted to check her fillings. I thought one of them might be a little loose—"

Bill's cackle cut through his excuses. "Oh, come on! I know your boss put you up to this! What does the little lady want with my mouth?"

Dr. Illing's eyes widened. All he managed to produce was a squeak.

Stan said, "What 'little lady,' this guy's self-employed. What are you talking about—"

"The tooth fairy, genius!" Bill flung his free hand in the air. "Why did you think your dentist pays you to pull your teeth! He lives in a van, who'd you think was funding him?!"

"Uh," Stan said. "You know, I sort of just took his whole 'creepy sadist who bribes people to let him pull their teeth' shtick at face value." (Dr. Illing's shoulders slumped.) "But—I know things are weird around here, but the tooth fairy's gotta be fake, right? That's the stupidest..."

A fairy popped out of Dr. Illing's bag—just large enough to use an adult man's hand like a chair, with a bob cut so white it almost shone, giving off a glowing toothpaste-blue aura, wearing a necklace of baby teeth like a hunter who'd taken trophies from the bones of her kills.

"Oh," Stan said. "Well. Never mind. Just one more crazy thing in this town."

Bill's back went stiff, his eyes widened, and he curled his fists into the fabric of Stan's tank top like he was holding his shield in place. "Oh, she's here." He lisped an inhuman swear under his breath.

Ignoring them, the tooth fairy glowered up at Dr. Illing. "How did they know? What did you tell them!"

"Nothing!" he protested. "I swear! I'd never!"

"Well, you must have let something slip—"

Bill swallowed hard; but then he straightened up, let go, and stepped into the open. "Why, if it isn't Miss Pearl E. White, in the fae flesh! To what do I owe such an honor?"

Dr. Illing and the fairy both flinched. She asked, "How do you know my...?"

"Oh, Pearl. I know things you couldn't even dream of." Bill favored her with his best, widest, most unnerving grin.

And got the creeping sense that she'd stopped looking at his face, and started staring at his teeth. He pressed his lips together. "And here's just one thing I know: lady, if you were toeing the line of your treaty any harder, you'd be tripping across it. So tell me what you're doing here and what you want."

She huffed defensively, wings buzzing as they lifted her several inches in the air. "I'm well within the terms of the treaty! I haven't laid a hand on you and I'm not about to start, and I've been offering more than adequate financial compensation—"

"Oh, right," Bill laughed, "I'm sure the queen of your court would be thrilled to hear you ordered your legally-dubious helper to rip out someone's teeth in the dead of night—"

"Hi," Stan said, "question. What the hey are you guys talking about. Treaties? Queens?"

"Oh, this is all going over your head, isn't it! I'll catch you up." He turned to the side to point accusingly at Pearl, "Little miss enamel-happy here has a thing for teeth. To the extent that she started stealing them straight out of humans' mouths. She went so crazy that the local human settlements actually declared war on her court over her dental kleptomania—and the fairies she dragged into the conflict weren't any happier about it than the humans were. So now, under the conditions of a human-fairy peace treaty, she's only allowed to acquire already freed teeth that are voluntarily offered to her by their owners—which is why she started bribing children."

Pearl crossed her arms, fuming. "That's a very biased version of events. You're just trying to paint me in the worst possible—"

"Save it, sparkles! I woke up with your minion's pliers in my mouth, I'll be as biased as I want!" He shifted his attention to Dr. Illing—who seemed to wilt under the force of Bill's glare. "But she's getting deep in a gray area working with this guy. Once a tooth is handed to a dentist, he's its 'owner,' and can freely give that tooth to the tooth fairy—but him extracting the tooth puts the whole operation on shaky legal ground. Really, I think the only reason you've gotten away with this racket so long is because nobody's filed a legal challenge with the fairy court yet."

"Nobody's complained about it," Pearl said hotly.

"None of your victims know about it," Bill countered. "Hey Fisherman," he jabbed Stan's arm, "how do you feel knowing your teeth were sacrificed to the tooth fairy?"

He considered that. "Well—it was free."

Pearl crowed, "Ha!"

Ignoring Stan's reply, Bill blithely moved on: "But by any reading of the treaty, hiring a human to steal teeth straight out of someone's mouth is beyond the pale. So you'd better have a good explanation for this!"

"Yeah. I do have a good explanation." She sucked in a deep breath. "I want your teeth!" She launched herself toward Bill; Dr. Illing had to grab her around the waist to hold her back. "I'd do anything for those teeth! They're the most amazing teeth I've ever seen!" She clawed at the air, hissing and straining as she tried to reach Bill.

"My lady, please," Dr. Illing said pathetically. "The treaty—"

She aimed a swipe at his face. "I know about the stupid treaty!"

Bill stared at her, baffled. His perfectly normal human teeth? But he shook his head, smiled, and said, "Well okay, fantastic! It's been a while since I've bargained with the fae, but I'm not too attached to this body—so how much gold do you have on you, kid?"

"We're not bargaining. You already know too much," Pearl snapped. "I'm not about to get blackmailed by a human, and I'm not going back to fairy jail. So here's what's happening." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Dr. Illing. "I'm gonna have my guy rip out every one of your teeth, and then rip your head apart so you can't talk, and the only negotiating you get to do is whether or not my guy uses the local anesthetic before he starts. So what's it gonna be?"

Dr. Illing went deathly pale and his knees shook as he verged on fainting.

"Hey," Stan waved at the fairy, "listen, I'd love to see this guy's head get ripped apart, but—crazy thing, long story—it turns out there's fifty-fifty odds that killing him could end the world. So, maybe let's talk this out—?"

Pearl gestured dismissively at Stan. "His mouth has nothing left of interest to me. He's a witness. Kill him, too."

Dr. Illing swallowed hard; but, with trembling hand, he reached into his tool bag and slowly pulled out a large power drill that definitely wasn't designed for teeth.

"Right," Bill said. "Okay. This'll be fun." If he said it convincingly enough, maybe it would be true. "Hey, Fisher—you know that spell Sixer's got on me? If I cast it on Frankie here, can you..."

"Yeah, I see where you're going."

Pearl's eyes narrowed. She pounded her tiny fist on Dr. Illing's finger. "Hurry up, before they—"

Before she could issue a warning, Stan charged at them, fist raised. Dr. Illing flinched, shielding his face with the drill; but Stan dodged around him, heading for the hall. Bill seized Dr. Illing's upper arm as he passed—"Amnesia Limina, Stupidi Digiti, Occultus Locus!"—and then Stan yanked Bill out into the hall by their chain and slammed the bedroom door.

Dr. Illing gasped. "What?"

Blue light radiated through the cracks around the door as Pearl darted around, shrieking, "Open the door, you idiot!"

There was a moment of futile scrabbling. "How?!"

Bill and Stan retreated to the entryway. Bill said, "If we get outside, we can lose 'em."

"Or get the car and run them over," Stan said.

"You don't wanna be the guy who kills the tooth fairy! She might be in the doghouse, but she's still old fae nobility. Her court would—"

Bill cut off as Stan opened the door. Instead of leading to the porch and the forest beyond, it now opened into a bone-colored cathedral, the arches and vaulted ceilings constructed out of what looked like small irregular pebbles: teeth.

Stan gaped at the vast chamber. "Where the heck...?"

Bill looked at what had once been the outside of the door; the numbers "13 / 32" were carved into the wood. "Nowhere we want to go! Shut it!"

Stan slammed the door.

"That explains how she got in," Bill muttered. "There's no time to un-enchant this exit, we'll need another one."

Stan pointed toward the living room. "We can go out the—"

"The floor room exit." Bill dragged Stan back toward the hallway they'd just left.

"What?! That's the other end of the house, you idiot, the gift shop's right through here!"

"But it's a straight shot down the hall—" Bill stumbled to a stop.

The tooth fairy was clawing her way out from under the bedroom door. She caught sight of Bill, and her wings raised in a sharp V like a wasp preparing to attack. "You!"

"Never mind."

Stan dragged Bill back toward the living room. "Now can we go—"

Bill saw the living room—that familiar dark room, the familiar walls and carpet, the familiar armchair facing the doorway as though welcoming him back, the pale blue light from the fish tank climbing the walls like flames—and Stanley Pines, dragging Bill by a chain toward this tomb—and he grabbed on to the staircase railing. "Up."

Stan jerked to a stop. "That's a dead end!" He tried again to pull Bill toward the living room. "Are you insane?!"

"Yes." Bill locked his hand around the railing like a corpse in rigor mortis. He'd break his fingers before he let go. "We're going up."

"We are not—"

The tooth fairy shot past them like a glowing blue bullet, streaking into the kitchen. Stan started, and Bill took the opportunity to drag them up the stairs. Stan finally followed.

"You're not getting out of here with my teeth!" Pearl screamed after them.

"Ignore her," Bill muttered, "she can't risk touching us and she knows it. She's powerless without her minion." He stumbled on a step and just kept climbing on all fours.

"I wouldn't bet on her self control!" Stan struggled to keep up, his cuffed wrist in the lead. "Why are we going this way? How do you expect to get out from the attic?!"

"I don't know! It just seemed like a better idea! Do I have to think of everything?!"

"This was your plan!"

"There's got to be a ladder in the storage over the kids' room, we can get down out a window."

"I don't keep ladders—!"

"Well maybe Jesús does, do you know everything in the attic?! Come on!"

Bill kicked the door to the kids' room until Stan opened it. After a short argument about who should climb to the storage loft ("I have to look, you can't see in the dark!" "And you can?! Since when!" "Since always! You didn't need to know!"), Bill scrambled up the makeshift rungs nailed to the wall while Stan climbed halfway up to give the handcuffs a little slack.

As Bill started searching for anything useful, Pearl's ranting filled the shack: "Those teeth are too good for you!"

"I think she's getting closer," Stan said. "Find anything?"

"Not yet." Bill pulled out a broken umbrella with a hooked handle. He clung to it like it was his only defense as he scanned the loft for any signs of a ladder.

Pearl went on, "They're the most beautiful, pristine, unblemished, perfect teeth I've ever seen in my life!"

Bill asked, "Are they really that great?" He'd never paid that close attention.

"Eh..." Stan shrugged and made a so-so gesture with one hand. "A little weird-looking, honestly. They've got those jagged bits in the front that make 'em look like kids' teeth?"

"Huh."

"They're pure," Pearl snarled. "I've never seen adult teeth so pure! And you're ruining them by drilling out chunks of perfect enamel for unnecessary fillings! You don't have the right to those teeth! I deserve them!"

"Hey Bill," Stan said. "So you knew my dentist works for the tooth fairy, right?"

Bill was dragging aside a large box to see if anything ladder-like was hiding behind it. "Yes."

"And you knew she goes crazy for nice teeth."

"Yes." No ladder; he moved to another stack of boxes.

"And it didn't occur to you that she'd be furious that you carved up your new teeth."

"It's in the past, Stanley! Focus on the present!"

"—and I don't even know how you got magic teeth," Pearl continued. "Fully adult teeth in a fully adult mouth, but somehow they're barely a month old! It's impossible! I could barely believe it myself until I saw your mouth with my own two eyes! I must have those teeth, as soon as possible, so I can preserve them exactly like this, who knows if I'll ever find such a novelty again—"

"Ahh, so that's it," Bill said. "Welp, nope, didn't see that one coming at all."

"She's been shouting a while without actually coming after us," Stan pointed out. "What's she up to?"

Bill paused. "Check." He lay down and stretched his cuffed arm down from the loft to give Stan enough slack to peer out the bedroom door.

Stan frowned. "Huh. Weird."

"She's upstairs?"

"Yeah. But she's just flying in a circle. With... I think a veggie container from the fridge?"

Bill sucked in a breath. "Do we have mushrooms?"

"Wh—yeah? How'd you..."

"What!" Bill half-climbed half-fell to the attic floor. "That little cheater's making a fairy ring! That's not fair!" He leaned out the door with Stan. "She's probably already made the matching ring downstairs. We have to destroy it before—"

The circle of chopped portobello mushrooms glowed white; and with a glittery puff, Dr. Illing appeared in the ring. He coughed out a lungful of fairy dust.

Pearl pointed at Stan and Bill and screamed, "Get them!" With a murderous scowl and terrified eyes, Dr. Illing stared them down and revved his drill.

Stan yanked Bill back into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Dr. Illing whined. "Aw, f—again?!"

"Just break through it!" Pearl commanded. "It's just wood! You have power tools!"

"He can't do that," Bill said confidently. "Doors don't work like that."

Stan said, "He can do that." A power tool whine announced Dr. Illing beginning his assault on the door.

"Oh." Bill considered that, eyes scanning the bedroom from one side to the other, mouth set in a grim line. "I have an idea." He pointed toward the window with his umbrella. "Stan, open the window." He hooked the umbrella over his elbow as he ripped the bedsheets off Dipper's bed and started tying the corners together.

Stan shook his head in disbelief. "You don't really expect us to climb out that window on bedsheets, do you?"

Bill dragged Stan closer and murmured in his ear, just quiet enough that their assailants wouldn't hear him over the power drill, "No, I expect them to think we climbed out the window, while we hide in the closet in the alcove. Once they're past us to check the window, we can sneak out and run downstairs."

"I don't like hiding like cowards instead of fighting. Illing's rickety, we can take him."

Bill kept tying bedsheets. He picked up Dipper's zodiac blanket, flinched, and tossed it to the floor on the other side of Dipper's bed rather than add it to his chain. "Funny—you didn't seem to have any problem hiding for a week while I had your brother prisoner."

Stan grabbed Bill by the shirt, dragging him closer. "You wanna say that again?"

Bill's hands shot up next to his face in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, sorry—"

"There were people in this shack I wanted to keep safe," Stan growled. "I'm not half as fond of you."

"Got it," Bill squeaked. He pointed toward Mabel's bed. "But I can see a dozen futures that end with our brains splattered across Mabel's dolls. I do not want to fight power tools."

There was a crack as the drill flung the first few splinters of wood free from the door. Stan's scowl deepened, but he let go of Bill and nodded.

They tied the bedsheet rope to a table leg, opened the window, and flung the rope out the window; then retreated into the alcove at the other end of the room, pulled shut the ragged curtain that hid it, and closed themselves in the closet to wait for the tooth fairy and Dr. Illing to break in.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If y'all enjoyed, I'd love to hear what y'all think! Next week we conclude both with the tooth fairy and with whatever the heck is going on between Stan & Bill.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(i traced 90% of Stan from the canon death punch because i wanted to make the parallel As Blatantly Obvious As Possible lmao)

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 9 days

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Hello! I’m curious to know if you listen to Hozier? Since his music also gives literary and it’d be interesting to know what you think!

Hello! Thanks for the ask

Hozier is wonderful! I love him!

I think he's incredibly creative, and he clearly knows how to write! He also clearly knows so much about the history of music, art, international politics, and so much more. There's nothing I admire more in an artist than some real intelligence. It shows in his command of the language. I've been listening since "Take Me to Church" went viral. I was absolutely in tears listening to that for the first time.

One point I've been thinking about lately is the way he wrote "Nina Cried Power" and how it's different from the way someone like Taylor Swift name-drops in her music.

The point here is that Hozier has immense respect for the people he mentions in the song, his obvious knowledge and respect for these people is ever-present. He thematically connects them from the perspective of their own lives into the message of the song. Meaning that it is the type of song they would co-sign. It's so moving for this very reason, it's like the people in his song are singing with him. In "Nina Cried Power" he's clearly using southern-inspired gospel-esque blues to sings about the way in which civil rights activists, and those musicians who broke the chains away, sang their activism into life. It's so lovely for him to use musicality stemming from Afro-American culture to sing about the major civil rights activist and artists from the era. He's literally brilliant, and I love his perspective on how the US civil rights movement impacted Irelands own civil rights movement. He's fucking brilliant.

And this line brings me to tears, "And I could cry power/ power has been cried by those stronger than me/ straight into the face that tells you to rattle your chains." He's so compelling both in storytelling and in intercultural dialogue. Beautiful. And how beautiful it is to remind us that no matter the location, your words and actions matter- activism matters. Power is with the people.

What a writer- what a message to send. Especially these days, when so many major public figures are refusing to speak on current events. How important it is to remind the public that there is no real reason to not speak up in times of injustice.

As opposed to Swift who can only name-drop people like Dylan Thomas in relation to being able to self-deprecate. Her impulse towards self-obsession shows in how she even represents the lives of others as ultimately being about her. It shows an immense disrespect and obvious distain for the people she writes about. She clearly only thinks about others when considering some hierarchal form of self-adulation. People are either better or worse than her- however, it is always about her. Dylan Thomas was an incredibly vocal activist and revolutionary spirit in his day, and Swift puts him in a cheap shot about herself? Painful, stupid, gag. Thomas was an avowed anti-fascist during the rise of the most horrific fascist regimes we've ever seen; as such he would be horrified at being eulogized by someone like Swift who lives and breathes money and power. I wish I could go back in time and unhear her besmirching his name.

Dylan Thomas would love Hozier though :) And so do I!

But anyway, I could totally write some literary criticism on Hozier, and you know what- it would be amazing because he is rich texture to dive into. His command of metaphor and mimetic technique is honestly so impressive! That actually sounds really fun and is totally on my to-do list now :)

#hozier #anti taylor swift #nina cried power #activism #dylan thomas #anti facism #ttpd #ex swiftie #toxic taylor swift #taylor swift critical #andrew hozier byrne #wasteland baby #hozier supremacy #fuck taylor swift

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sitp-recs · 2 months

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Happy St Patrick’s Day! I’m lucky to be friends with two amazing Irish creators and I thought I’d do a short rec list to celebrate them today. These fics (and art!) are great fun and full of references to the Irish language, landscape and traditions. It was really cool to learn more about the Irish culture through them, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did:

🍀 The Matchmaker by @maesterchill (T, 368 words)

Seamus has had it up to feckin' here with Harry and Malfoy. It's time to take matters into his own hands.

🍀 Is tú mo Rogha [Art] by @maesterchill (G)

Malfoy in a boat—a tiny thing, hide stretched over wood, the sweet elegant curve of the prow beckoning them forward, behind them nothing but the rocky rise of a small island, ahead of them nothing but sea the same grey as Malfoy’s eyes.

🍀 Last Offices by @tackytigerfic (M, 7k)

It didn't seem fair that Malfoy was dead, and Harry was supposed to just keep on living without him. He had lost enough people to know that he probably would keep on going—his stubborn heart was still beating, after all, even though it felt like it was going to break. But first, he had to get through the laying out of the dead—those old Pureblood funeral rites—even if every time he touched Malfoy's too-cold body, he was reminded of how things used to be, and how things might have been.

🍀 Offer Up Our Hearts by @tackytigerfic (M, 23k)

Harry Potter has a very nice life, thank you very much. He's a top Curse-Breaker with a lucrative Ministry contract, and exciting prospects ahead. Sometimes he does wish that he had time to pursue something official with Draco Malfoy - they're half in love with each other, after all, and a great team (in and out of bed), though Draco is still one of the most infuriating people he knows. And when Draco asks Harry to accompany him on a diplomatic mission to the mysterious Sidhe fairies in Ireland, Harry agrees to lend his expertise. Especially since the Sidhe diplomat is a handsome fairy prince who's also in love with Draco.

🍀 Wild - orphaned (E, 93k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

#Drarry reclist #celebrating Irish creators 🇮🇪#happy st patricks day

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cleolinda · 9 months

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(For our purposes, listen to it without the visuals first.)

I wasn't going to keep posting about Unreal Unearth, but something happened yesterday.

It's been five months since I first heard this song, and I'm still astonished by it. You know the tiktok skit about the Star Wars wedding music, and the guy is grooving along until the Imperial Death March filters in, and then he's kind of alarmed, like, wha—? And then he realizes it slaps anyway and he keeps dancing? That is "Eat Your Young."

It's the morning of March 17th. The EP with the first three singles from the new album has dropped. I've got my phone blasting the song on the bathroom counter, I don't understand half what the man is saying nor did I expect to, I'm cheerfully mumbling along in the shower, grooving along,

wait they did what for a war drum

Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

What the fuck, this song goes so hard. That's the chorus. The conceit of the whole album is that it loosely follows Dante's Inferno, so this is the third circle of hell, gluttony. Hozier himself says that he wasn't specifically thinking of Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal—

“I don’t know how intentional the reference to Jonathan Swift was in this. That essay [Swift’s 1729 satirical essay A Modest Proposal in which he suggests the Irish poor sell their children as food] is such a cultural landmark that it’s just hanging in the air. I was more reflecting on what I felt now in this spirit of the times of perpetual short-term gain and a long-term blindness. The increasing levels of precarious living, poverty, job insecurity, rental crisis, property crisis, climate crisis, and a generation that’s inheriting all of that and one generation that’s enjoyed the spoils of it. The lyrics are direct, but the voice is playful. There’s this unreliable narrator who relishes in this thing which was fun to write.” [Apple Music album notes]

—and I believe him. The song's not a suggestion, a proposal; it's an invitation to atrocity in progress. I also believe he probably wasn't thinking of Greta Thunberg's iconic speech at the UN Climate Action Summit, not specifically, but that's what I hear in the song, like the flip side of a coin:

You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words. And yet I'm one of the lucky ones. People are suffering. People are dying. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. We are in the beginning of a mass extinction, and all you can talk about is money and fairy tales of eternal economic growth. How dare you! [...] You say you hear us and that you understand the urgency. But no matter how sad and angry I am, I do not want to believe that. Because if you really understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil.

I feel like on some level, even coincidentally, "Eat Your Young" is the answer to the question, what would you sound like if you were that evil? Who would you be? I can think of a dozen possibilities just off the top of my head or looking around my blog, from something as petty as studio executives mangling trees to deprive striking workers of shade (while hoping they lose their homes), all the way up to the US school-to-prison pipeline. The National Rifle Association keeps politicians in its pocket while the US has more mass shootings than days in a year, Nestlé fucks shit up around the world as a way of life, even ChatGPT sucks up water while threatening jobs—and for what? And yet, I promise you most of these things weren't the inspiration for an Irishman’s song—some of them hadn't even happened yet. There's just that much fresh You Would Be Evil to go around. I am certain that Hozier wrote the song partly about (as one article puts it) "Ireland's housing crisis: Millennials, a generation sacrificed," given that time back in the day when he helped occupy a building—a housing crisis happening in multiple countries. There's so much of the world I'm not touching on. I can stuff a paragraph with links and it's utterly inadequate.

I haven't even mentioned war.

There's an overwhelming sense this decade of the future being fed into a meat grinder. That sense is in this song. What would it sound like to be in the head of someone who didn't give a shit about anything but profit? Well, it might sound like this.

And if you haven't heard it, well—I'm going to sound absolutely out of my mind after saying all that, but "Eat Your Young" has a beat and you can dance to it. It's sexy. And I'm certain that's on purpose. You get seduced into the sound of it, as if by something demonic, something that enjoys sucking down the future and is not going to stop. And the sheer fucking catchiness of the song keeps you listening to it—thinking about it—when maybe you push away the dry headlines we get everyday. If you let this song stay in your head, it becomes a lens. Five months later, I still think about it when I read the news. Maui was on fire and tourists stayed. Within days, the prospect of developers swooping in to buy up land reared its head. If there's something still to take, there is ground to break, whatever's still to come. Get some.

I was born in 1978 —I'm late Gen X. In my forties, I'm young enough to worry about the future still; I’m neither so rich that I can just plan to retire to Mars, nor so old that I can know I'll be safely gone before the world might go up in flames. But I'm also not my nephew, whose school year just started back up, or the neighborhood kids who race him home down the sidewalk in the afternoons. Yesterday, he had his very first mass-shooter lockdown drill. He’s six.

I think music can put the feeling back into numb fingers, and I think that's why "Eat Your Young" works so well—Hozier calls the song fun and playful, and I think you have to have that, something you can live with rather than just switch off for your own mental survival. We need music to feed spirit at protests; we need something to keep our feet moving. Don’t give up, don't close your eyes and slip away. Those kids, they have dreams we could try to steal back for them.

Since I mentioned Maui:

Why Hawaiian sovereignty has undeniable context for the Maui fires

The Climate Crisis and Colonialism Destroyed My Maui Home. Where We Must Go From Here

How You Can Donate and Help Support Maui Communities Right Now

The Maui Strong Fund

#music #music discussion #hozier #long post #eat your young #Spotify

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daughterofcain-67 · 3 months

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𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝. 7)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Suddenly driven by the urge to find you, yet conflicted about the fact he would have to kill his own son, Ben sets out with Butcher and Hughie to go to the Vought tower and put an end to this once and for all.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SPOILERS!!! Final episode of season three, but this series will continue after that episode. I don’t think there’s any major warnings. Little short but this will be continued. Hope you enjoy!

All you could see was white all around you as you sat alone in the room. Captivity wasn’t your idea of a fun time, then again who likes to be held captive against their will? Maybe with the exception of those with Stockholm syndrome, you assumed it would be no one’s idea of a vacation necessarily.

You sat with your back against one of the walls and your legs crossed in front of you. Your eyes were closed as you tried not to focus on your current situation. Instead you were wondering if Ben really did find Mindstorm, and if he was able to get a little more closure and revenge that he wanted. You wondered when he would get to Black Noir, or if he could even get to him in the Vought tower.

Then you began to wonder if Ben would really be able to kill Homelander. You wanted him to be able. To take the hero’s powers away and show everyone that without his powers, Homelander was just an image of Vought’s imperfections. You wanted to know what their reaction would be when they found out their star-spangled mascot was nothing but a useless puppet, like most if not all supes, who just got paid to be glorified for nothing.

After that, your mind started to wander off to the aftermath of your life with Ben after killing Homelander…

Would he get caught yet again? Would he be sent out of the country yet again to a place like Russia? You wouldn’t put it past Vought to do something so cruel. You couldn’t imagine all of the horrible things Ben went through. Well, you could because you went through something similar, but the government wasn’t out to kill you.

The Russians were trying to kill Ben, and they had a lot longer of a time with him. The government didn’t have nearly as much time with you. So you couldn’t imagine just the amount of torture Ben had gone through for such a long amount of time, only to be left alone in a vault like he was some antique in the lab.

You wouldn’t let anything like that happen to him again. You couldn’t let yourself live with that if Vought took him away again. Back then you couldn’t do anything about it, but now you could.

You only hoped that Ben would be careful enough to not let it get to that point.

Then you tried to start thinking more positively. After all, you weren’t a fortune teller. You had to have some sort of hope in you after all.

So maybe you were over thinking and nothing would go wrong with Ben. Maybe he’d be okay after all and his little quest to kill Homelander would go smoothly. He was experienced at least somewhat when it came to some battles, even if he didn’t actually storm Normandy like Vought wanted everyone to believe.

You wondered what life would have in store for you if that were really the case. What would the future hold if both of you came out of this okay after all?

You were pretty confident you’d need a new hidden cabin in the woods somewhere. After all, you didn’t want Vought finding you again if they didn’t destroy your old home anyway. But you wondered where you would go, you wondered where Ben would want to go.

With Vought out of your hair and Homelander gone, you could go anywhere in the world you wanted to go. Would Ben want to go out of the country with you and start a new life?

Maybe you could go somewhere beautifull…

You heard Ireland was beautiful. You’ve never visited the country and you would love to see what it was like. Maybe you and Ben could travel the world before you decided to find a new home and settle down. Maybe have that family Ben always seemed to dream about.

There were so many positive ideas that came floating in your mind and they seemed to be a dream away. You weren’t sure if you could really have any of those fantastical outcomes, but it never hurt to have that hope.

After all… you dreamt that Soldier Boy would come back. Now he was back in your life so unexpectedly. What other things would come true for you?

The sound of the door opening brought you from your thoughts but your eyes remained closed because you knew all too well who was coming through that door. Judging by the stomps those boots made, Homelander wasn’t too happy. Then again, when was he ever happy and not plastering some fake smile for the public eye.

“Still don’t know where Soldier Boy is. Hate to break it to you, Kiddo.” You sighed with exasperation.

“I’m not here for that.”

“Oh really? No threats if I don’t give you some kind of top secret location?” You sassed with a smirk.

“Did you know?”

What the hell kind of a question is that? How were you supposed to respond?

“You need to be a little more specific than that, Kid.” You remained in the same spot, never opening your eyes to look at the ‘hero’ as you tried to go back to your own thoughts.

“Did you know about Soldier Boy being my father?”

This is what made you open your eyes. You looked up at the supe who had his hands on his hips, awaiting an answer coming from you.

Ben was Homelander’s father? How did that happen? And when? It was certainly a sudden shock, one you hadn’t anticipated to hear that morning - at least you were assuming it was morning. You were losing your concept of time after being locked up in the same place for so long.

“Do you realize how much of a perv he was back in the day before he and I started getting along? He was the one that started Herogasm remember? You can’t honestly believe you’re the only kid he has out there, can you?” You laughed, hiding your surprise.

You wondered if Ben had any idea about this. He couldn’t have known, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so accepting of the idea of killing Homelander?

“Oh please, I was born in ‘81. You two were close during that time, I know it. So did you fucking know he was my father, or didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know.” You finally answered after a few moments of silence.

“So how did you find out? You look equally as shocked.” You said while Homelander ran a hand through his bleached hair.

“I… I got a call sometime last night from… from him.”

You lifted a brow. Ben called Homelander? He must’ve gotten home and you hoped he got Dan after all. So did Mindstorm break the news to him? Was that the reason Vought took him away from you? Damned them. It was exactly something Vought would do so you couldn’t put it past them.

“He said it was some sort of… genetic experiment.” Homelander revealed. You rolled your eyes at the way he seemed so shocked at the news. Was he really that stupid when it came to this organization?

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course they’d have genetic experiments. Most heroes don’t live that long. Vought must’ve wanted Ben to have some kind of early retirement because they were creating you. Some replacement.” You scoffed.

“Oh don’t act like you aren’t effected by it. Doesn’t it bother you that your precious Soldier Boy has a son and it wasn’t a result of something from you?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Kid. Don’t try to use that shit with me.” You scoffed.

“You think I’m affected by that? If I was I wouldn’t have bothered getting close to him after Liberty, or Crimson Countess. But you? You were nothing but some kid that came out of a damn tube. You’re nothing but an experiment. You are not Soldier Boy’s son by any long shot, and you likely never will be because he hates pathetic men like you.”

You noticed Homelander’s eyes glow red at your last comment and you smirked. He wouldn’t be so affected by it if it wasn’t the truth, “Sweetie, if you kill me, your daddy’s gonna gut you like an animal.”

The color of Homelander’s eyes went back to normal and he looked away from you for a moment. You noticed that he seemed to be having a difficult time wrapping his head around this whole thing. Then he started getting some sort of notification from Ashley and you heard him let out a groan of annoyance.

“Fucking Hell!” He exclaimed.

“Something got your panties in a twist there?” You asked with your head tilted before he looked over at you.

“This isn’t over. I’ll find where Soldier Boy is. And he won’t even know you’re here. He’ll never find you and you’ll spend the rest of your days locked up.” He said and he stormed out of the door.

You looked through the glass as Homelander walked off and you looked down at your hand. You flattened it out before slowly turning your hand into a fist and the building started to shake as if you were indirectly trying to tell Homelander he could try to keep you here for a while, but you’d never stay here.

So many things have happened within the last several hours and he didn’t know how to think of any of this. Everything felt so complicated.

Mindstorm was finally dead, and Ben was glad to have finally killed that fucker. Yet he still couldn’t believe that he was a father. That complicated things immensely, yet a deal was still a deal, right? Then there was the fact that you were missing. Ben was absolutely livid at the very idea that something may have happened to you, and you suddenly became his top priority, no matter the complications and the conflict ion he was feeling about all of this.

After the phone call he made to Homelander, telling him that he was the supe’s father, he had been drinking. He ended the phone call quickly and he knew he was still determined to get you back. He had this gut feeling Homelander was the one that had you. Ironic because you were always so cautious of where he went and who could see him, and you failed to think that you now had a target on your own back.

As Ben stepped out of his room with a little hangover remedy in his hand, he could briefly hear Hughie and Butcher talking about him.

“Listen, do you think he’s going to kill his own son? That’s a lot to ask of him. No wonder he was so hesitant to tell us after Mindstorm broke the news.” Hughie said.

“Well Homelander ain’t really his son. Deep down he knows that. He’s nothing but a glorified lab experiment.” Butcher said.

Ben clenched down on his jaw. He knew Butcher was right. He had a task to focus on, and he knew you would want him to stay focused. He knew they would have to go to the Vought tower anyway because it was more than likely that Black Noir was there. As he stepped out, he saw Butcher glance over at him.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Butcher’s accent thick as he spoke.

“We’ve got a lot ahead of us. We’ve got to go to the office and get more temp V, then we’ll get our asses over to Vought so we can kill two birds with one stone. Then our little team up’s complete.”

“We’re still searching for Y/N.” Ben corrected sternly.

“Well yeah, of course that too.” Butcher nodded as he put his black coat on.

Ben turned and started heading to the room to grab his shield once more and he downed the rest of that little remedy and he tried to focus. You would want it that way.

He didn’t know what Vought was doing to you. Who knew if Vought actually destroyed those records the government had on their experiments with you. You were right, they were all a bunch of liars. No wonder you took to Grace Mallory. But Ben was still worried that maybe now that they had you in their clutches, would Vought really put you through that hell again to find a way to take a hero’s powers?

It was the uncertainty that gave Ben hell. He knew you couldn’t be dead. There was no way you could be dead and he had to believe that. But he knew the way Vought treated their heroes, and how their supes treated each other and got away with it. So who knew what Homelander would do to you.

Once Butcher and Hughie were ready to hit the road, Ben walked out of the door with them as he tried to keep his cool. He took the box of those cigarettes Butcher gave him with the weed and he lit one up whenever they got outside.

When they got to the car, Ben decided that he’d lay down and maybe sleep off the headache that was quickly forming. He could feel when the car was stopped and Butcher went to pump gas. The runt went to go to the bathroom and Ben eventually fell asleep.

A few hours later when Ben woke up he realized Butcher was still driving and he noticed Hughie was no longer in the vehicle with them.

Odd…

“Where’s the cockchoker?” He asked as Butcher started to reply.

“Ah well, you were right about ‘im, Mate. At the gas station he took off.” He said and Ben’s brows narrowed.

“We needed him to get to noir.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry too much about that one. You said it yourself, Noir’s loyal to Vought so he’ll be there and so will Homelander. Two birds with one stone. All’s well.”

Ben wasn’t too sure if he was willing to believe that whole story. He wanted to believe Butcher was right and things would go smoothly, but so far in Ben’s life nothing has been smooth sailing. Whether he liked it or not, Ben had a feeling Hughie would go back to his little girlfriend and something could go wrong.

“Just wake me up when we get to New York.”

Ben laid back down and looked at the ceiling of the car but he wasn’t sure he’d be going back to sleep so easily. So instead he tried to think of you just as he did when he was in that fucking box in Russia.

He closed his eyes and he could see you in the very cabin you resided on the first night he was able to see you again. He could see you wearing that little necklace he gifted you what felt like eons ago, but you also had a golden band around your finger.

You would be in the kitchen making some sort of dessert and he could see himself walking into the kitchen. He’d say something a little inappropriate in a joking manner and you would roll your eyes pretending to be disgusted but you’d chuckle nonetheless because you knew his sense of humor.

But then, down the stairs there would be a sound of little feet running down to greet the both of them. A boy, one that looked nothing like Homelander. Instead, this would be the perfect mixture of you and him. And Ben would lift his son up into his arms and let him dip his finger into the batter of whatever dessert you were making despite your protests that your son would spoil his dinner.

Ben would shut you up with a kiss and then he’d make his son promise to eat his supper before he’d take the boy out to the backyard to play some sport whether it was football or baseball since he’d be too young to handle a gun.

It was a perfect life all inside of Ben’s mind and he desperately wanted that future. And he would stop at nothing to make sure he’d get you back.

Eventually Ben did finally fall asleep but the nap didn’t feel quite long enough, even if it was already dark outside. He didn’t realize just how worn out he’d been lately. Ever since he came back he’s been going nonstop to get the revenge he wanted on Payback and now to kill Homelander.

Ben squinted and looked around him, realizing Butcher had already pulled up to a building, likely the one that had his temp V shit. Ben groaned a little as he got out of the car and when Butcher popped the trunk, Ben was able to grab his shield and the two of them walked inside.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to do this?” Butcher asked and Ben looked over.

“What? Kill Homelander? You said it yourself, he’s not really my son.” Ben said, even if he did have some sort of doubts about it.

Anyway, the two men walked up the stairs and Ben noticed that they seemed to have a good view of everything. Ben noticed a table full of different alcoholic substances and liquors.

“Have at it. Calm before the storm after all.” Butcher said.

Ben glanced over at Butcher but then he shrugged and went ahead and poured himself a drink as well as one for Butcher, who accepted. Then Ben walked out towards the window where he had the view of the Vought tower.

“Supes are nothing but circus monkeys… Your little girlfriend was right about that. I’m glad she went to Mallory in the beginning.” Ben could hear Butcher say, Ben assumed Butcher saw him looking out of the window.

“You ever seen the Soldier Boy movie?” Ben asked as Butcher was looking at a map of Vought.

“Must’ve missed that classic.” Butcher said.

“I guess it is a classic now.” Ben hummed a little.

“It’s about a kid that lived in poorer parts of South Philly.. discover’s he’s got these super powers to match his little heart of gold. It’s a load of bullshit. All of it.” Ben said and he sat down.

“My dad was never poor, hell I even went to boarding school. Got kicked out of boarding school for bein’ a fuck up.” Ben began and Butcher looked over at him.

“Made sure you remembered you were a fuck up, huh? What’d he do, beat you to hell?” Ben shook his head.

“Couldn’t be bothered by it. Said I was his own personal disappointment. Not a lot I thought I could do about that. As I grew older I realized that I could go to some of his golf friends and they got me into the Vought trials for enlistment. I thought could be my chance at meeting more than just some sort of fuck up to my parents. Vought shot me up with their blue liquid shit and they made me a hero.”

“What’d the old man say to that?”

Ben recalled having this similar conversation with you at that New Year’s party you mentioned in one of your letters. He thought it would get a little easier to talk about and in a way, it was a little easier because now Ben’s father was long gone. It’s not like he had anything to prove to a dead man.

“Said I took a short cut. That a real man wouldn’t have cheated to be a hero.” Ben said as his jaw clenched and he looked down at his drink and cleared his throat.

“None of the supes are born with their powers, but I guess you’ve gathered that already. At first I thought I was doing what was right. Most naive kids do. None of us start off as bad guys.” Ben said before he looked at Butcher again.

“Then one day, when you’ve gone to too many parties, done pointless movies, did everything you were asked to do and yet you still don’t save as many lives as you hope to save, you realize Vought is all about business and money. That’s when you begin to stop giving a fuck, you begin to indulge in the lifestyle of a circus monkey as you call them, because you stop believing in any morals. You stop believing there really is good, and if there is you’ve already been so corrupted to the point where you doubt you can spread that goodness. One day you look in the mirror and realize… you aren’t the man you wanted to be.”

Butcher was quiet for a moment, thinking about his own past. He was always his little brother’s protector. It was sort of his job in a way until one day he had enough of it. And that would forever be one of the biggest regrets of his life.

“I don’t think Homelander had that much of a choice in deciding if he wanted to be a circus monkey or not. The whole world used to look up to him, Hell I even looked up to him at one point. But then one day, it all turned to shit.” Butcher said.

“Trust me, kid. Times are just as complicated and shitty now as they were back in my day. It’s not easy finding out that a kid you didn’t even know you had is Vought’s most beloved puppet. It’s harder to see that they couldn’t have made him better.” Ben sighed.

“What about you? Any kids?” Ben finally asked.

“That’s a bit of a complicated one too.” Butcher said.

Ben looked down, the news from Mindstorm still eating at his mind. He wasn’t sure he wanted to kill his own son. Homelander is the only blood that Ben had left, the only sense of family even if he was just some lab experiment.

“I knew I had a few running around somewhere. Never thought I’d actually run into one of them. I’ve always wanted them, thought I could do better than my old man.” Ben said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s either the hope of the parent, or the fear of turning into their parent keeps them from having kids.” Butcher said, knowing his reason was the latter. What happened to Becca was out of his control though.

“But you have to realize that Homelander isn’t yours. You didn’t name the lad. You didn’t raise him. I know he’s the only blood you got left, Mate, and I know it’s a hard pill to swallow. But Homelander was created in a damned test tube all for the purpose of taking your place. You’ve got to get that through your skull.” Butcher said before he walked over to Ben.

“Don’t you realize that Homelander is the very fucking reason Vought left you to rot? Homelander is the very reason the Ivan’s had you, tortured you, burned you. They filled you up with shit you never asked for all because Vought wanted you dead so they could make a way for a guy in a fucking cape. Not to mention the fact the he was probably the one that fucking took Y/N in the first place and now she’s in that tower going through who fucking knows what.”

Ben went quiet and he tried to think. He knew the reason Butcher was saying all of this was partially because of the deal he made so they could kill Homelander. But he tried to think of what you would have said in that moment.

You knew him better than anyone, and he knew you were so against Vought and all of their bullshit. Would you have said the same thing if you were in Butcher’s shoes?

“I’m going to get some air.” Ben said and he set the glass down and walked out of the front door.

After a few moments, Ben thought he could hear something. This time he wasn’t hearing things in his mind from the PTSD or whatever the fuck Hughie called it. He knew what he heard.

So Ben walked back in the building and as he made his way up the stairs and back to the office, he could hear two girls fighting. Something about killing Homelander and doing whatever it takes. Homelander must’ve been a piece of work if so many people wanted him dead. That was honestly… disheartening at best. Maybe even a bit…

Disappointing.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Some red headed notch in civilian clothes said and Ben lifted a brow.

“No, but I will.” Ben said, truly not giving a fuck about who came to the office.

“You heard ‘him, Lad. Get in the safe.” Butcher said and looked at Hughie.

Ben took a glance at some guy who was glaring at him like he wanted to skin Ben alive personally. It wasn’t the first time Ben had ever gotten that look and he knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

Once everyone was in the safe, Ben started walking out of the door so he could go to Vought. Then he realized that Butcher was trying to stop him.

“Hey. You ready for this?” Butcher asked and Ben hummed a little.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Ben said and they started making their way to the tower.

When they made it to the tower, Ben Butcher and who he now knew was Queen Maeve, wouldn’t be expecting the incoming trouble from Hughie, Starlight and the others in the group.

Although it was getting to the point where Ben knew he shouldn’t take things at face value with this group. He wouldn’t be surprised if the blonde one figured out a way to break out of the damned safe, or any of them for that matter. He learned after his experience with Payback not to underestimate anyone.

Once Ben and Butcher made it to some sort of office, he heard the two of them exchange a little small talk. Something about scorching the earth. He didn’t know and didn’t really give a rat’s ass to know what they were talking about.

“Where’s Noir?” He asked sternly.

“Dead. He… didn’t tell me about you. Dishonesty is.. is something I just can’t tolerate. Queen Maeve there, she knows all about that.” Homelander said and motioned to the redhead

“And where’s Y/N?”

“How should I know anything about her? She was the one attached to you by the hip, wasn’t she?” The Supe asked.

“I just want to talk… That’s all.” Ben didn’t budge or initiate the fight. Neither did Butcher or Maeve.

“Besides, we could never be a family with her. I know you and I want the very same thing. Our teams never gave us that. Instead, every one of them stabbed us in the back. Sooner or later, Y/N will stab you in the back too.” Homelander said and Ben wasn’t sure how he should feel about that statement. Homelander didn’t know anything about you.

“It could be just you and I against the world. We would be an unstoppable duo. Both of us are practically unkillable. We could bring Vought back to its former glory. Just you and me.”

Ben thought about it before he looked over. Then he started walking over, “The only people that could kill us is each other. How would that end?”

“It wouldn’t happen. And what would even make you say that? Him?” Homelander motioned to Butcher. “He’s nothing but human. Flawed. He does’t stand a chance against us, no one does.”

“Don’t listen to that bloody lab rat. He’s trying to twist your mind around.” Butcher said, trying to interfere.

“Remember, he’s not your real son.”

“Yes I am! I am your son! I’m your blood! That’s all that matters in the end, doesn’t it?”

Ben stood silently as Homelander than motioned for a little boy to come to his side. He looked exactly like Homelander, a spitting image really. “This is Ryan. My son. Your grandson.”

Grandson? He was a grandfather too?

Everything Ben had ever wanted was right fucking here in front of him, minus you of course. That was the only issue with this revelation of family. You had no part in it.

“Hi Grandpa.”

Those simple two words made Ben lean back, stunned really since he had never thought he would even hear those words in his life. Let alone a simple ‘hi dad.’

Butcher’s words continued to echo in Ben’s mind. Homelander was nothing but a lab rat, an experiment that came from a tube. He had no bond with this man, he had no bond with his son either. He was just another supe and some random brat. But he can’t completely ignore the shared blood in their veins. How could he?

“We’re all any of us ever needs. We’re a family just the three of us. We can raise Ryan here to be a better hero than the both of us combined so he could take our mantle one day.”

But this very man, this pathetic piece of shit that was the one that had the audacity to take you away from him. The only woman that ever loved him for what he truly was, despite his own imperfections and disappointing qualities. You loved him for who he was. And Homelander took you from him.

Ben walked over to Homelander before he spoke again, “It’s a shame to know that I’ve missed… so much.”

He could see the hope on Homelander’s face. He really thought Ben was going to give him some sort of approving speech, but Ben had to face the truth of what his son really was.

“I wish I could have raised you. Father to son. I could have raised you to be a better man so you could be a better example for your own son…” Ben said as he placed a hand on his own son’s shoulder.

“But instead you’re this… this… weak, sniffling, attention starved cunt that wants everyone’s approval.”

“Weak? But… But I’m you.”

Ben’s lips pressed into a thin line. Homelander was right. He was Ben, all of the parts of Ben he wished he never had to deal with, “I know… You’re a fucking disappointment. One who took away Y/N, and that’s something I just can’t move on from.”

Suddenly, Ben’s hand was attached to Homelander’s jaw as he intended to break it, but the fucking brat tried to push Ben away. Quake and Butcher both held Homelander still as Ben focused every ounce of his energy into his chest so he could use it to finally kill Homelander.

Butcher tried to tell the brat to move, but suddenly, two little red lasers shot from the kid’s eyes as Ben’s chest began to glow. It threw Ben through the glass and against the wall, clearly taking him off guard. What the hell just happened?

Ben slowly got up with a grunt and dusted himself off from the glass. As Homelander was telling Ryan to go upstairs, Ben used his shield to shove the kid into the bookcase.

“Little Shit. Must take after his old man.” Ben said and rubbed his jaw. Then he started to let the energy in his chest begin to glow again while the hero was tending to the brat. This was the moment now that Homelander was distracted. He could take him down as well at the little runt that was getting in his way.

That was when tables started to turn, Butcher’s eyes began to glow too with the temp V still in his system. Ben lifted his shield to block Butcher’s attack and he peered over the shield. Ben was at a loss for words. After all that talk about “a deal’s a deal” this was a change. Didn’t Butcher want the bastard dead?

He didn’t have time to ask many questions before the fight insued between him and Butcher, eventually Homelander joined in too.

You had been hearing rumors that Maeve escaped. So Starlight was right after all about Homelander doing something with her. You knew Homelander must’ve been pissed when he found out that information. You wondered just how much his world was beginning to fall apart all around him.

Suddenly, all of the lights seemed to go red. A lot of people were beginning to panic and the doors of these cells were opened. You were freed! But why? What the Hell was happening? There was only one solution you could possibly come up with.

Soldier Boy.

You quickly got up and you saw all of the prisoners Vought had contained were escaping. You followed all of them, the flow of the crowd seemed to be evacuating the building.

“What’s going on? Why are we running?” you asked one of the lower workers.

“There’s an attack on the tower. Soldier Boy’s real and he’s going to kill all of us! He’s with that Butcher guy Homelander hates so much.” Someone said and you stopped in your tracks as everyone else ran out of the door.

You bit your lip as you tried to think hard of where Soldier Boy and the others could be. Homelander must’ve known Ben was there by now, what if things turned sideways again like they did in Vermont? You ran past the meeting hall but you had to do a double take. That was when you noticed that Black Noir was dead.

Your eyes widened because you knew Ben was at the last name on his list. And what if Starlight made her way back to the tower? What if she convinced the rest of Butcher’s team to put an end to Ben?

You didn’t want to think of that outcome but you could feel all of the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

You had to think fast and you started making your way up to the very top of the tower, deciding to use the stairs since the elevator must’ve been occupied by everyone trying to rush to the lobby from whatever floor they were on so they could rush inside.

You were suddenly held back by two people who made you stop running and when you looked over you saw that it was both Hughie and Starlight.

That was when your worst fears were becoming realized.

“Hughie?! What the Hell?!” You questioned.

“We have to kill him, Quake. He’s dangerous and he’s going to kill so many people! You saw what he did in Vermont.” Hughie said and you glared at him before you fought your way out of his grasp since you could tell he was surprisingly not on the temp V shit.

Then there was starlight and you saw her eyes were starting to glow and your eyes narrowed as you took a hold of her hands, gripped them as tightly as you could and you twisted her wrists, successfully breaking the both of them and you could hear her cry out in agony. She wasn’t the only supe in the room after all. The yellow glow went out of her eyes and you lifted your leg, kicking her to a wall.

Then you marched over and hovered above the ignorant blonde.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“H-He’s with Butcher. He’s going to kill Homelander and anyone else within a hundred foot radius of here. We have to stop him.” Annie said, looking up at you with pleading eyes as if she was begging you to listen.

“What exactly were you going to do with him. What weakness did you find.” You said with a certain darkness in your voice.

“I can’t tell you that.” She said and you wrapped your hands around your throat.

“Listen, Little Girl. At this point, Homelander is the least of your worries,” You tightened your grip on her throat, “if you don’t tell me what the fuck you found out, I will kill you, MM, Frenchie, Butcher, Hughie, mmm… I will kill anyone you’ve ever cared about if you dare take him from me again.”

“V-Vapor. F-Frenchie said it was a vapor that could weaken Soldier Boy. Some kind of toxin.”

“What was the name of the toxin?”

“I-I don’t remember.”

“You’ve learned to lie well. What the fuck is the name of the toxin?”

“N-Novichok! I-It knocks him out and puts him to sleep. L-Like an anesthesia. I-It won’t kill him but it’ll give us time to evacuate these people.” Starlight said.

You heard the name and you thought you’ve heard that name before. You recalled it was a theory you had in one of your papers when you were trying to think of what could have possibly happened to weaken Soldier Boy and taken him away. You didn’t think something like that could be true. For you it was pure speculation, a long shot.

“Try to stop me and I’ll break your fucking neck.” You seethed before you threw Annie next to Hughie before you started running up the stairs as fast as you could to get to Ben and Butcher before anything disaster out happens.

Unfortunately, you realized you were too late. Not only was Homelander fighting Ben, but so was Butcher. MM made it too and so did Kimiko. Kimiko was trying to fight Ben with hand-to-hand combat and she was starting to fail miserably. MM was using some big looking gun to shoot Ben, but obviously it wasn’t working. Butcher and Homelander were using their powers to try and fight him off.

Your eyes widened the very moment you saw Ben’s shield break into pieces. You knew this was serious and things weren’t looking good.

You raised your hands and the building started to shake as you started to use the material, the concrete of the building and you took chunks of it and you started to throw it at Homelander and Butcher.

Ben saw concrete and pieces of the building began to fly and he saw you there. You were alive, and you were there! But the very moment that he was distracted, he felt multiple people tackling him and they put some kind of mask on him. He was all to familiar with what was in the canister and he was instantly starting to feel weak.

“No. I’m not.. going back.. In that fucking box!”

He started absorbing so much more energy and they were finally starting to back off, but this time Ben couldn’t hold back the energy and it needed to go somewhere. The upcoming blast was too intense and he didn’t even realize that someone was knocking him out some window nearby. The next thing he knew, the blast engulfed him and whoever pushed him out.

“NO!” You exclaimed when you saw the man you loved was pushed out of the window.

Your heart was racing so fast, you felt so much more adrenaline course through your veins than you had in a very, very long time.

You stood up and you saw the way Butcher, Hughie, everyone in the room was looking at you and none of them knew what to do next, but Butcher and Homelander were the first to use their eyes on you, only for you to shift the floor in the building and rotate them to where the two were facing each other and attack one another.

MM tried to use the gun on you and the bullets did hurt sure, but they’d do nothing more than leave bruises on your skin. You took a chunk of the concrete in the wall and used it to knock MM across the room and send him flying. You knew it knocked him out but honestly, you didn’t really care.

Kimiko tried to come at you and you took the same chunk of the building that knocked out MM and you used it to knock out Kimiko and shoved her through the same hole in the glass wall that Ben was pushed out of.

You were already starting to feel dizzy from using your powers this much, but you couldn’t stand by this any longer. All of them ruined your life.

They came to your home, brought you out of hiding and Homelander found you making it to where you had to leave. Then when Ben came back, you couldn’t even have him for long before they tried to kill him all over again.

And you were done with all of it.

Your eyes darkened and you used all of the strength you had left and you turned both your hands into fists, raising up in the air. Then with all of the force you had in you, you slammed your fists to the ground.

The entire building started to shake, dust and rubble fell from the ceiling. Then the entire building seemed to drop a layer or three. Everyone started to scramble to their feet and try to find the quickest ways out of the building but you knew it would be too late for a lot of them, the ones that didn’t have V in them anyway.

You did the same motion again with your fists, bringing even more of the building down. Homelander took Ryan and fled from the building, Butcher must’ve still had V in him because you could see him trying to shield MM. But you knew he didn’t have much left in him.

With one more ground breaking smash, the entire building rumbled and it started to lose its foundations, the integrity of the building was now compromised and before you knew it…. The ceiling was falling of all of your heads.

What felt like hours later, you were covered in dust and you were coughing up some blood. You were surprised you were even awake with the amount of rubble that was on top of you. You should have been crushed. You managed to open your eyes and you realized you were unharmed. But the Vought tower was finally brought to its knees. They’d lose everything.

You used whatever was left in your strength to climb your way out of the rubble and when you looked around, you saw that there were ambulances all around. You realized that you used a little too much power and Vought wasn’t the only building you took down. People must’ve been caught in the crossfire.

You were lucky you were covered in white dust, otherwise some news reporters may have recognized you. Some of the paramedics were taking some people out of the rubble, you didn’t care to see who made it and who didn’t.

You started to look around the rubble, no one would really question it because they were all looking for loved ones. You were doing everything you could to find any sign of Soldier Boy. He had to be around somewhere. He had to be okay. There was no way a building killed him, so he had to be here, right?

Instead, you found nothing. You couldn’t find Ben anywhere. You didn’t know if he walked out of this play or if he had the Novichok in his system and he was still knocked out and someone took him. You didn’t know if the energy blast knocked him out because of how much was pent up in him and he hadn’t come to just yet.

You dashed into the shadows, knowing you had a new task at hand…

Find Ben.

No matter what it took, no matter if you’d end up crushing every singly building or destroying every city and killing yourself in the process… you would stop at nothing to find Ben and get him out of the clutches of whoever took him.

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visorforavisor · 1 year

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as an Irish (we don’t call it “Gaelic”, ever) speaker and a Sunny fan, I thought it would be fun to do a bit of a post about the Irish-language scene in The Gang’s Still in Ireland, because it’s not a scene I see widely discussed but I adore it.

some background. I am not a native Gaeilgeoir (Irish speaker) — my first language is English — but I started learning it age five and have always had very high grades in it and a huge love for it. I was hugely excited about Charlie Kelly being able to read Irish in the previous episode, and even more so when he turned out to be able to speak it.

Colm Meaney, the actor who plays Shelley Kelly, grew up in Ireland and as such would have learned Irish throughout his time in school. (this has been required by law more or less since Irish independence, and it was already quite common before that. nowadays, you can get exemptions for things like dyslexia but otherwise you have to do it.) this is clear in his ease with the language. (I will do a post about where in Ireland Shelley lives at some point, because there aren’t many areas where Irish is the principal language, but that is for another day!) both the actor and the character have easy and good Irish.

Charlie Day, as an Italian-American, obviously does not actually speak the language and presumably learned the lines as a bunch of gibberish sounds. (nonetheless, some of his pronunciations do suggest he had the words written down non-phonetically too.) his delivery of the lines is god damn amazing. Charlie Kelly’s Irish is not remotely American-accented. if I heard someone speaking Irish like that, I’d assume they sounded Irish when speaking English. he doesn’t even sound neutral in Irish; he does actively have an accent (the word choices are more non-regional, not pointing to any of the three distinct dialects, but this makes sense as the same is true of Shelley’s Irish). his pronunciation is so on point and his accent is seriously just a delight to listen to. that’s serious effort to have been put in by an American in a show that routinely makes fun of Irish-Americans! I cannot stress enough how cool it is to see my national language like this and how good a job he does.

as a side note, Charlie Kelly finding Irish much easier to read than English makes total sense! he clearly has dyslexia, as well as intellectual disabilities and autism, so literacy being tricky is totally fair, but is probably being made worse in English by how much of a god damn ridiculous illogical irregular mess the language is. English has around two hundred irregular verbs, and that’s before we even begin to consider the irregularity of its spelling. Irish has eleven irregular verbs, multiple of which are only irregular in one tense. its spelling is entirely consistent and, once the rules are known, any word (pretty much) can be flawlessly pronounced from reading it or flawlessly spelled from hearing it. (I promise Irish names make sense. just not if you try to use English rules on them. the languages are very different!) Irish is one of the most regular languages out there.

so, I thought I’d go through the actual scene. I’m going to put each line, the direct translation, the subtitle provided, and a comment. hopefully this will be interesting to someone other than me!

·—·

“is mise do pheannchara, a Charlie.” (Shelley)

direct translation: “I’m your pen pal, Charlie.”

subtitle provided: “I’m your pen pal, Charlie.”

okay, so they translate “pen pal” two different ways in this scene. the first, used here, is “peannchara”. this is a compound word, much like all those long words you get in German. it’s a perfectly good choice given there is no one standard choice for translating that concept.

“tá brón orm, ach ní thuigim cad atá ráite agat. is féidir liom gibberish a léamh, ach ní féidir liom í a labhairt.” (Charlie)

direct translation: “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’ve said. I’m able to read gibberish, but I’m not able to speak it.”

subtitle provided: “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you just said. I read gibberish, but I don’t speak it.”

I would slightly disagree with the subtitles here. the “just” bit isn’t expressed at all. in fact, there is no Irish equivalent to that word, and we often just use the English one in the middle of an Irish sentence because of this. however, I expect that RCG (Rob McElhenney, Charlie Day, Glenn Howerton) wrote the subtitles and then handed them to an Irish translator, in which case the translator did a perfectly good job. a couple of notes about the use of “gibberish” here. I love it. firstly, we totally do drop English words into sentences like that. secondly, I really like the choice to use the feminine form of “it” here (that is, to make “gibberish” a feminine noun). all languages except English are feminine nouns in Irish as a rule, so it’s just a lovely detail calling back to the fact that Charlie thinks of it as the gibberish language. also, Charlie Day really does absolutely nail that voiceless velar fricative (the consonant sound in “ach”, as in Scottish “loch” or any number of German words), a sound even many natively English-speaking Irish people are lazy about. good on him.

“níl aon ciall le sin. sé á labhairt anois!” (Shelley)

direct translation: “there’s no sense to that. it’s being spoken now!”

subtitle provided: “that doesn’t make any sense. you’re speaking it now!”

I adore the phrasing of the first sentence here. thoroughly authentic. there are much more obvious ways to phrase it, but this is absolutely what a native speaker might go with. same goes for the second, actually. Colm Meaney says the second line in a sort of shortened way (same idea as how we might turn “do not” into “don’t”) so I’ve struggled slightly with how to directly translate it. interestingly, Shelley categorises “gibberish” as a masculine noun here, but this isn’t really wrong since it doesn’t have an official grammatical gender due to not being an actual Irish word. just a little odd. also, to fit better to the subtitle of the second sentence, I personally would’ve gone with “tá sé á labhairt agat anois” rather than “tá sé á labhairt anois” (the full version of what Shelley says), as this includes the information of by whom it is being spoken.

“’s é mo dheartháir mo chara pinn.” (Charlie)

direct translation: “it’s my brother that’s my pen pal.”

subtitle provided: “but my pen pal is my brother.”

firstly, to be clear, the nuance of the sentence structure here is not captured in either of the above translations because there simply is not an English equivalent to it. secondly, Charlie uses a contraction here by shortening “is é mo dheartháir mo chara pinn”. super cool. also, there’s that other translation of “pen pal”! this one is “cara pinn”, which uses the Irish genitive case (the word mutates instead of using an equivalent of the English word “of”; this case also exists in other languages including Swedish, German, Latin, and Greek). I like this translation very much too. both work! Charlie Day again delivers this line really nicely, even stressing the word for “brother” (and pronouncing its initial consonant mutation absolutely gorgeously)! I am truly very impressed.

“níl aon fhírinne le sin, a mhic. ’s é do chara pinn… d’athair.” (Shelley)

direct translation: “there’s no truth to that, son. it’s your pen pal who is… your father.”

subtitle given: “no son. your pen pal is your… father.”

so, I really disagree with the first sentence of the subtitles here. it works, but also misses a lot of the beautiful nuance that could have been got. I would have gone with “that’s not true, son” or, more likely, “that’s not right, son”. I also disagree with the placement of the ellipsis in the second sentence, as you see (and my frustrations in translating this sentence structure to English continue, as well). however I like the use of “a mhic” (“son”) here, very much. this is a mutated form of “mac”, meaning “son” (yes, as in all of those Irish surnames; they all just basically say who the person is the son of). it carries both meanings that exist in English: an actual son, but also the use of the word as an affectionate way to refer to any man younger than the (usually male) speaker. this is a really nice choice.

·—·

so, yeah! those are my thoughts. feel free to ask any questions you like. I love this scene so much. as well as the reasons above about how good the translation and delivery is, I also love two other main things about this.

firstly, the level of dignity given to the language. Sunny makes fun of Irish-Americans all the time, but doesn’t really do the same to Irish people from Ireland, which I like (I do also wanna talk about Mac and Charlie as members of the Irish diaspora because it is so so interesting, but that is for another day). Irish as a language is not often given dignity, especially in American or English media, so I really love that it isn’t the butt of the joke here.

secondly, that such a significant scene is delivered through this language. just wonderful. after fourteen and a half series, we finally discover the biological father, and the scene cannot be separated from this beautiful language. it just is so perfect.

RCG, and of course Charlie Day in particular, we Gaeilgeoirí (Irish speakers) thank you! our little language made it to the screens of so many people around the world.

I hope this was interesting haha.

·—·

edits: fixed some things I mistyped.

#always sunny #iasip #sunny #it’s always sunny in philadelphia #irish #gaeilge #irish language #charlie kelly #charlie day #colm meaney #rob mcelhenney #glenn howerton #megan ganz #rcg #ireland #irish diaspora

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inconspicious-random-thoughts · 2 months

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The Hazbin Timeline

I'm just making a timeline list of the Hazbin Hell residents biological and death ages. It's fun and interesting to see who is around who time period and such.

It might make help fanfic writers with backstories to know who existed at what time.

Im making the "current" date in the Hazbin universe 2019 as that's when The pilot aired.

Oldest: Lucifer. Existed before the dawn of mankind.

Adam: First man, existed since the dawn of mankind

Lilith: First woman, Existed since the dawn of mankind.

Eve: Second woman, Existed since the dawn of mankind, after Lilith.

Zestial: Information unknown beside oldest overlord, but going by his Shakespearean speech, death around the 1600's making him about 400 years old.

Possibly witness in his lifetime: Mary, Queen of Scots, executed for treason by order of Queen Elizabeth I, Galileo's experiments, Pilgrims from England arrive at Plymouth, Massachusetts, on the Mayflower.

Charlie: Appears to be in her 20s but

Despite her youthful appearance, it appears that Charlie's age is a matter of question. Although Vivziepop thinks that Charlie does celebrate birthdays with the standard kind of party, she is still unsure of how demon years and time work for someone like Charlie. In a later stream, Vivziepop stated that demons age in "hell years"] This may hint that Charlie's biological aging is different from how humans age, although it is unknown if hell years are similar in length to Earth years.

In one of the Hazbin Hotel pilot teasers, a portrait of the Magne family taken in the year 1871 hints that Charlie is decades older than she appears. Although this detail is omitted in the final version of the pilot, Faustisse has corroborated that Charlie is over 200 years old.

Rosie: Tricky, giving by her preferred time period, her death would be about 1890ish and her birth near 1850s-1860s making her 170 years old BUT Faustisse stated Rosie never died, suggesting that she was born in Hell. Which may subject to change as the show progress but if she's Hell born, they grow slower. So if we doing the same math as Charlie, she been around for 400 years. Which is similar to Zestial but not mention she on par with him in age so I think her being Hellborn not going to be finalized in canon. Rosie human age would be a little older if not similar to Alastor mother ages which is probably why he so easily bonds with her along with similar interest.

Sir Pentious: Biologically 40s, deceased 1888 making his soul 170is years old. His birth year is in the 1840s (This guy live through over 100 exterminations, and turf wars and challenging Alastor?)

Witness in his lifetime. The great famine in Ireland, the great Chicago fire, the pony express, the civil war, Lincoln assassinated, the statue of Liberty being dedicated,

Carmilia: Going with my headcanon that Carmilla was the lead ballerina in swan lake. Swan lake composed in 1877. Also, we have to consider her daughters to figure her death as I think they all died the same day. One of them goes by the name Clara...which is character in the nutcracker composed in 1892. So their deaths are after that date. Swan lake had a revival at 1895 so we just making their deaths at that time for sake of making it easy. Carmilla is vibing near 40 but I wouldn't push her past that as I think it be tough to be a 40 year old ballerina in the late 1800's. So her birth year is 1860s So I'm just going to guess her age be no older then 35 making her soul 160ish.

Her daughters being little after that. Being 150ish years old.

Witness in his lifetime. The civil war, Lincoln assassinated, the great Chicago fire, the statue of Liberty being dedicated,

Tom Trench: Biologically in his 40s, died 1910-1920s. Assumed during ww1 making his birth year late 1870s. His soul being around 150ish years old.

Alastor: Biologically 30-40's so for simplicity sake-35. So being born just smidge before the turn of 1900s. His death is 1933. Making his soul about 120 years old.

He witnessed 3 states included in the Us (up at 48 at his death) Wright brothers flight, Titanic sink, WW1, Great depression, Woman can vote, and prohibition.

Husk: Biologically 60-70, to make is simple 65. his death in the 1970s. Making his birth year about 1910's. About a decade after Alastors birth. Husker soul age about 110 years old. Husker has nearly the same timeline as Alastor and Angel except Husker lived an additional 40-50 years. Husk is about 10 year difference between both Alastor and Angel in either direction. So Husker being one the very few characters who lived a full life could at some point crossed paths with most of the characters in his living life, especially its been noted he was a world traveler to increase those odds. Alastor, Mimzy, Angel, Vox, Nifty, and Valentino. Husker is the unique character we get to witness that he an "old soul" because he lived the longest while alive, yet is in the same soul generation as Alastor, Angel and Vox, yet one of the youngest with his afterlife and still managed to be Overlord at one point. His overlords years being in the 1980-90s. As it takes time to become an overlord with the exception of Alastor. But I believe Husk did raise to Overlord fairly rapidly but lost it nearly as quickly as it seems Alastor had him under contract for a long while. Husk was in his 20s during Alastor death, in his 30s going on 40s for Angel Death, and 40's for Nifty and Nox death. Husk and Valentino share the same Hell afterlife timeline.

Angel Dust: Stated his age is in the 30s...and it most be very early 30's because I do not get the impression of him being 30 but more in the 20's. It so weird to know Angel meant to be a few years younger then Alastor biologically. Death year 1947. Making his birth year around 1917. His soul being just over 100 years. about 20 year difference from Alastor. Alastor hitting the age of adulthood while Husker not even a preteen at the time of Angel birth. Angel was in his mid teens when Alastor died.. Alastor possibly linked to is murders at this time of death and Angel would witness the news that would arise from it. Possibly heard some of Alastor broadcast. Angel is assumed gone by the name Anthony for a few decades in Hell before adopting his porn star name when he signed on with Valentino.

Vox: Biologically 30-40's so for simplicity sake-35. Died in the 1950's. Making his birth year about 1915 his soul just over 100 years old. He was a teen at the time of Alastor death. Alastor possibly linked to is murders at this time of death and Vox would witness the news that would arise from it. Angel and Vox lives and death are about in the same timeline, Angel died no more than a decade before Vox.

Witness in his lifetime: Great depression, prohibition start and end. all of WWII, holocaust, Hindenburg, Mount Rushmore finished first motion picture with sound The Jazz Singer.

Niffty: Biologically 22. Died in the 1950's making her birth year about 1930's. Her soul is about 90 years old. She possibly the youngest biological age character we seen. She as an infant when Alastor died. A preteen to late teen when Angel died. Possibly watched Voxs programs. (I headcanon that Vox is a tv game host). Died about the same time as Vox. Husk was in his 40s at her time of Death. Husk was in his 20 at the time of her birth.

Valentino: I'm placing him similar to Vox age so 35. He died in 1970's making his birth year about 1935. Just after Alastor death. Was in his late teens at the time of Vox death. Possibly watched Voxs programs growing up. (I headcanon that Vox is a tv game host). His soul is about 85 years old. Angel is older than Valentino even if Angel biological age might been slightly younger.

Angel been around longer than Valentino and its easy to forget that. Angel been uncontracted for a few decades before Valeninto became an overlord.

In his lifetime, the last two states was added to the US. Beatlemania, the space race, woodstock.

Katie Killjoy: in her 40's and died in 1992. Her birth year being late 1940-early 1950s. Making her soul little over 70 years old.

Zeezi: No information but giving her blatant 80's style she dies in the 80's and her personality seem of someone in early 20s...she was born in the 1960's Making her soul just about 70 years old. Same age as Katie, but Katie lived longer making Zeezi a citizen of Hell longer.

Cherri Bomb: Biologically in her 20s, and died in 1980s. Her birth year being 1960s. Living the same exact timeline as Zeezi. Cherri is possibly the youngest character we witness so far.

Velvette: No real information released but appears to be in the 20s. Her "age and death age" don't really match up to her character, but since maybe that's because she just good at updating and staying on trend. I headcanon it takes a minimum for a soul to become an overlord 10 years. So going by that, early 2000s since she not a brand spankin new overlord, she vibing she been overlord for a few years-close to a decade. ? Her birth year being in the 1980's which....doesn't seem to match. But giving the show timeline is 2019 subtract having years of experience as an overlord, and years to accomative the power and climb the ladder, and add her age...its near 1980s. Only way she can be an overlord with her birth being later in the 90's and death close to current year frame is that the other Vees saw potential and her and adopted her immediately and steamline her into being an overlord. But why would they do that if they just make a deal for her soul and use her potential that way?

That it for now. Hopefully someone enjoys this or could use the information I gathered, some venture a guess on the characters timeline and who may overlap who. I hope it wasn't terribly dull.

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siampie · 2 months

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Finding You || Chapter 1

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/tags: pinning, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: Okay, wrote this in two days and couldn’t wait to share it with you guys. Alright, hear me out. I’ve rewatched Kin while writing this chapter, and I realized that there is a house right next to Michael’s and they share the same driveway. After some research, I’ve learned they are called semi-detached house. They share a main wall. Usually, they are mirrored. It isn’t the case in Kin. And I kept it that way. So, be prepared for some shenanigans or not. I’m not really sure what I’m gonna do with that information. If you have some ideas just drop them in the comments. It could be fun for future chapters. So, I’m happy to share the result of my investigation. I also hope I did a good job in writing Michael’s brief POV. And forgive my attempt at writing an Irish accent. I don’t think I did a good job. But I’ll let you be the judge of that. Can you also tell that the only other person I really like from this family is Birdy? I hope you’ll like this first chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705, @shouldbestudying41

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Dublin, Ireland. When you decided a few months ago to move out, Dublin wasn’t even on your list of destination. You didn’t even think of it. But there you were. You jumped the sea, as they would say back home. You had crossed two oceans to reach this beautiful city. To start anew.

After your father passed away, a little over two years ago, you needed a fresh start. You had spent a decade taking care of him while he was sick and in recovery. Working small jobs, barely having any friends or barely going out. You lived to take care of him and nothing else. When he died, you were saddened, yes. But you had felt relief more than anything. And then, you had felt guilty for it. He was your father and you loved him. Although, resentment had taken over in the last few years. Not just towards your father, towards your siblings too. Still, you loved him.

Why Dublin? You did not know. Why not Dublin? As you were making the decision to move out of your current place—place you had shared with your father—you had seen an ad that promoted travels to Ireland. It looked so beautiful and so green. It looked so inviting and you thought to yourself; Ireland seemed like the perfect place to start over.

So, there you were, settling into your new home. Your father had not forgotten what you had sacrificed while you took care of him. In his last will, he had left you a significant amount of money to do as you pleased. He wasn’t rich by any means, the money he had left was significant for someone like you. A couple of hundred thousand euros. When you heard the news, you were surprised by that. You had not realized that your father had saved up so much money. You even wondered where it had come from since you were the one who had managed his financials in the later years. You were not complaining though. He had left you enough to start over. It had been enough for you to move country and buy your new house.

Of course, your siblings had been supportive in your decision. Giving you their blessings, not that you had needed it. Not really. It had made your decision to move easier though. The most supportive of them was your youngest brother; Matthew. It was funny to you that he was now your greatest support. Growing up you both hated each other. You were his eldest of five years. You fought constantly, always at each other’s throats. And now, you were the closest you had ever been. He was the one you turned to when you needed help. And every time, he needed help he turned to you. It wasn’t that you did not trust your two other siblings but you trusted him the most. And they knew it.

You had started a new job too. You worked at a call center for an insurance company. Providing people with the help they needed for their house after a housefire or for water damages, or even after they had been robbed. It was not your dream job but it was a job. It paid the bills and the groceries. You had no reason to complain really. Except about the people that were calling and sometimes being rude on the phone. You understood that it was taking too long for some of them but you couldn’t go against the system. There were rules you had to follow and you were doing your best to provide them the help they needed. However, some of them had a tendency to forget that you were also human. And yelling at you, was not going to make you go faster.

Funniest part about you working in a call center was that you hated talking on the phone. As an introvert, you hated phone conversation. Your sister; Mary knew it more than anyone. You had told her that you always get annoyed every time she called. You did talk to her on the phone and you always ended up having a good time on the phone. But it always felt as though she was being rude anytime she called you. So, that you chose to work in a call center, was a laughable idea. Because every time the phone rang, which was pretty often in your line of work, you hated it. Sure, you had a script to follow but some of those problems were specific and you needed to think on the spot. Which you weren’t really good at. That was why you loved texting more than you loved calling. At least, when you were texting you had time to think of an answer. On the phone, you were pulling answers out of your ass. And they weren’t sometimes the best. Also, staring at a screen all day was draining.

In spite of that, you loved your new house and your new life so far. It was all perfect. Except maybe for the fact that you were living next door to criminals. You knew you should have questioned it when the house was sold to you for a low price. You knew it was low because it was Dublin and houses all over the market were much more expensive. But this one went to you for a price you could actually afford. You had gone in expecting to have to rent the place and when they offered to sell it to you instead. You had agreed. However, the realtor had failed to tell you who were your neighbors.

As soon as you had moved into your new home, one of your neighbors had brought you a housewarming gift. A sweet lady that lived across the street from you. Her name was Bridget Goggins but she went by Birdy. She had long and dark curly hair. Blue eyes and a kind smile. She had shown you nothing but kindness and you had appreciated it. You immediately took a liking in her. She had told you that her nephew Jimmy, his wife and his two sons lived two houses down from yours. And she had briefly mentioned her nephew; Michael. Apparently, he lived right next to you. He had been gone for some time. And that explained why the house was empty. For you, at the time, you had not seen anything wrong with it. It was just a neighbor being friendly to you and making you feel welcome.

She had been nice. Very nice. Albeit a little too curious about you and your family. Your lips were tight. You did not like to share information about yourself. And you were protective of your family. You gave her very basic and vague information. It wasn’t against her. It was just a thing your father had trained you to do. He had drilled into your brain to not share information about your family, because people would use it against you. So, you mostly hid things about your family and even, lied to some. You didn’t lie to Birdy; you just didn’t tell her much. And neither did she. And you respected that.

You would later learn that the Kinsella, Birdy’s family, were notorious criminals. They dealt in drugs trafficking mostly and may have been involved in a few murders. Specifically, Michael Kinsella. He had been gone alright. Eight years in prison for manslaughter, of his own wife. And it all clicked. The low price, the empty house next door, Birdy being way too curious about you. It all made sense. And it also scared you. You did not want to get involved with the Kinsella. Not if they were going to create problems for you.

You kept to yourself mostly. You barely saw Jimmy and his wife anyway. It was easy to avoid them. As for Birdy, it was slightly more complicated. The woman seemed to always know when to find you. And since you did not want to be rude to her, not just because she was a criminal. But mainly because you were a pushover, you could not refuse her. You kept your distance as best as you could. Although, it was impossible for you not to take a liking in her. She was most of the time motherly towards you. And you had craved that sort of affection since the day your mother had walked out of your life. And as much as you wanted to avoid the Kinsella because of their line of work, you found it hard to just pull away from Birdy. You liked her very much. Against your better judgement.

Apart from living near the Kinsella, your life was quite good here in Dublin. You were settling in nicely. And you loved your house. It was yours, and you made it cozy and warm. It was your own little haven. You loved coming back to it after a long day of work.

Sitting on your couch, you were unwinding after the long day you just had. You heard a distant peel of laughter. When you crossed path with Birdy this morning and she had offered to drop you off, she had mentioned the return of her nephew Michael. She was going to buy some party food for the evening. So, you knew what it meant, your neighbors were celebrating the return of the prodigal son.

And soon, the empty house next door would not be so empty anymore.

It made you nervous for some reason. You were about to share a yard with a murderer. You did not know what to expect. Hopefully, with you two sharing a wall, you’d know how to avoid him. You groaned out loud realizing that Birdy might create problems in the future. You had grown closer to the woman in spite of yourself. And she made it a habit to come and visit you sometimes. Whether you liked it or not you may actually cross path with Michael Kinsella.

“That was a short reunion.” You mused out loud when you heard the distant goodbyes. You switched off your television before going upstairs, to get ready for bed.

You had fell into a fitful sleep that night. Knowing that a man capable of murder was sleeping next door to you, made you feel unsafe. You had lived months in your home, knowing well you lived next to criminals. And yet, it was the man next door that made you feel unsafe in your own bed. And you had not seen him yet. And you had no intention to.

Lack of sleep did not make for a good day at work. You prided yourself in being a very patient person. You had trained yourself though. When you were younger; in the years that followed your mother’s leaving; you had been a very short tempered and moody person. And being a teenager at the time did not help the matter. You would explode at random at the people around you. And it was always your family that was on the receiving end. Did it come from anger? Or grief? Or even sadness? You did not really know. You were pretty sure it was a combination of it all. What really helped though, was your family making fun of you every time you did lose your patience. They would apologize profusely, with a smile on their faces, while bowing to you. The overreaction from them made you laugh every single time. It made you realize how ridiculous you could be. It made you realize you had no business being this enraged because they breathed in your direction.

However, what made you really snap out of it, though, was your sister. You did not remember what was said or when it was really. All you remembered was that one morning during breakfast, your sister was speaking to you and you snapped at her. For no reason at all. And it had brought tears to her eyes. It had hurt her. And it made you realize that you never wanted to make your sister feel this way ever again. She was your only sister and your best-friend, and you needed to treat her better. You needed to treat the people around you better. So, you took it upon yourself to think before you spoke. You stopped yourself before you could snap. Always, taking a deep breath and gave yourself a few seconds before opening your mouth. And sometimes, you just kept quiet and walked away. It had helped you over the years in growing more patient. And also, nowadays, you did not give as much of a fuck as you did back then. It took a lot more for you to lose your temper.

Lack of sleep, on the other hand—never made a good friend when it came to keeping yourself in check. Everything and everyone irritated you. If they glanced at you or even opened their mouth to speak to you, you would get annoyed. But you did keep yourself in control the whole day. You kept yourself in control with your colleagues and with the clients on the phone. And now, you were terribly exhausted. You couldn’t wait to just drop in your bed and be dead to the world for the next twelve hours.

“Hey, Birdy.” You greeted quietly as you got to your house. She was on your neighbor’s doorstep about to go in.

“Hello, pet.” She smiled at you. “You look properly tired, dear. What happened to ya?”

“I feel like it too.” You snorted. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. But I’m going to make up for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You’re visiting the new neighbor?”

“I’m bringing him some proper food.” She showed you the trays she was holding. “There’s some here fer ya.”

You sighed. “You didn’t have to, Birdy.”

“I like taking care of ya.” Birdy answered with a soft smile. “Come on, take it.”

“Alright.” You yielded before taking the tray off of her hands.

“Have you met Mikey yet?”

“Can’t say I had the pleasure.” You shook your head, fishing for your keys.

“Wanna come and say hi?” She offered.

Your lips twitched up in the corners. “Not really. Another time, perhaps?” You unlocked your door.

“Yeah, another time.” Birdy smiled at you as you disappeared into your house. As she, herself, disappeared into your neighbor’s house.

Michael was sitting on his sofa, a book in his lap. He had not been reading, not really. His thoughts kept going back to his daughter Anna. He couldn't resist the temptation to go and see her. He had kept his distance but he had taken everything in him to not get up and run to her.

She had looked so grown since he last saw her. She was no longer a child; she was growing to be a young and beautiful woman. Eight years had been a long time away from her. He had missed out on so much. He missed her so much it was hard to breathe sometimes. He had to do things right by her. He needed to do what was right, if he wanted to have her back in his life.

He would straighten out his act. He would stop dealing with the family business. He would keep out of it. He would do everything he could just so he could have her back in his life. It was the most important thing to him at this moment. Anna was the most important thing to him at this time. He must do right by her.

Muffled voices from outside drew his attention away from his own thoughts. He had recognized Birdy but the second voice did not belong to someone he knew. He couldn’t hear much of what was being said. But Birdy and you had seemed really close by the sound of it.

Birdy had pushed the door open and stepped in. “Good evenin’ Mickey.” She greeted him softly. “Brought ya some proper food.” She said showing him the covered dish she had in her hands.

Michael smiled back at her. “Thank ya, Birdy. But ya didn’t have to do that.”

Birdy walked into the kitchen. “Of course, I had to.” She placed the dish on the kitchen counter.

“Who were ya talking to?” Michael couldn’t help but ask. He was curious to know more about you. Especially if Birdy seemed to be close to you.

“Your new neighbor.” She replied taking off her coat. And then gave him your name.

So, that was you; Michael thought. He had caught a brief glimpse of your shadow through your large window, after he had come back from Jimmy’s. The curtains were drawn. But he had seen you through them as you moved around your kitchen. For as far as he could remember, the house next door had always been empty. People tend to refuse to buy once they knew who would be their neighbor. And he couldn’t blame them. It was now strange for him to suddenly have a neighbor after all those years.

The empty house next door would not be so empty anymore.

“She’s a real sweet girl, ya know. A hard worker too. But a bit lonely.” Birdy opened his fridge. “She could use some more friends.”

“Yeah?”

“So could ya.” Birdy wore a small smirk on her face. “I’ll put this in the fridge. Ya can have it later. I’ll get you a few more bits, Mikey. Fill this up for ya.”

“Nah, ya don’t have to go to any trouble. I could do that.” Michael moved to the sofa’s armrest.

“It’s not trouble.” Birdy told him strongly. Before moving next to the stairs. “Not for family.” She smiled at him. “Missed havin’ ya around, Mikey. We all have. We’ve all been waitin’ for ya to get out.” Michael hummed in response. “Especially Frank and your brother. It’s been tough on them without you.” She said softly, gazing back at him. “Carryin’’ the load all on their own. I mean Eric is—he’s a good boy. But he’s not you.” She gave a small shrug.

Frank had put her up to this. Michael just knew it. He knew what she was getting at. Frank wanted him back, in the family business. But he couldn’t do that. Not if he wanted to see Anna again. He wouldn’t change his mind about this.

“But you’re back now,” Birdy said and Michael nodded in response. “That’s the main thing.”

“Yeah.”

Birdy walked up to him. “You understand what I’m sayin’. I know you do. You’re not like your mother. You’re a Kinsella. And we stick together.” And she leaned and rested a light peck to his lips. “Always.”

You probably would have gone another night with a restless sleep if your body was not so exhausted. You had heated up some of the food Birdy had brought you. Although, living next to crime lords was not ideal, Birdy made it easier by taking care of you. As much as you had taken a liking in her. She had taken one in you. Always showing up at your door with extra food or inviting you over to share a cup of tea or coffee. The only issue was that you did not know if she was being sincere with you. You didn’t entirely trust her. Your lack of trust may not have been entirely due to her being a Kinsella. It was also due to your past. You had been burned too many times before and you didn’t know whether she had ulterior motives or not. But you had wanted to trust her more. You really wanted to.

Although, you knew you shouldn’t want that.

You were in a better state of mind that morning. You had your coffee; you were awake and rested. And you hoped for a better day at work.

“Good mornin’.”

You gasped as you turned sharply to face your neighbor. You had not paid attention to your surroundings, too focused on going through your morning routine.

“M’ sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He softly chuckled.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head quickly. “I just—wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”

Your heart started to gallop like a wild horse under your ribcage. You were facing the neighbor; you did not want to face. The man who had been sent to prison for manslaughter. You had to remind yourself of that. Because in spite of what you knew, the man standing in front of you was quite handsome. with his thick beard and dark hair. And his hazel eyes were beautiful and seemed kind.

“I’m Michael.” He put out his hand.

Your eyes snapped to his hand. You should probably take it. You really shouldn’t but this would be rude, wouldn’t it? “I know.” You said and introduced yourself. Making the final decision to put your hand in his. His calloused fingers felt rough against yours but his grip was warm and gentle. “Your new neighbor.”

“I know. Birdy told me.”

“Yeah.” You smiled quickly. You pulled your hand out of his grip. “I have to go. I—I don’t want to be late for work.”

“Okay.” His face fell slighty, and you momentarily felt bad.

“It was nice meeting you, Michael.” You said. You did not want him to think that you were running away from him.

“Yeah, you too.” He gave you a tight smile.

“Yeah, bye.” You turned away quickly and made your way to the end of your street where your colleague was waiting for you.

Real criminals didn’t look like criminals, you needed to remind yourself of that. No matter what you may think, Michael still killed people. He only got caught for the murder of his wife. He didn’t matter that he seemed kind. He didn’t matter that he looked handsome. He was still dangerous.

“Fuck!” You cussed as you were getting closer to your colleague’s car. “I’m in trouble.”

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#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem! reader #michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella #michael kinsella fluff #kin rte #kin bbc

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