#who is letting them have these animals god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elodieunderglass · 18 hours

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On the topic of the monarchist animals I'm just really curious. What makes the winnie pooh real animals bourgeois? It's not like they own much more than the others. Do they just have bourgeois energy?

(In reference to my addition on this post; https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/748488762087047168/hold-on-lets-do-this-properly-paddington)

In the post I state that none of the stuffed/toy animals in the Winnie the Pooh series are monarchists, but that the real animals are bourgeoisie. Obviously this is tongue in cheek, but it’s still politically interesting to me because nobody ever reads Winnie the Pooh as an actual book. They just draw depressed Disney Eeyore and think they’ve done something.

Owl and Rabbit are real wild animals that live in the Hundred Acre Wood. The other characters in the story are Christopher Robin’s stuffed animals.

The “real” animals (reasonably) consider themselves to be separate from the stuffed ones, but where it becomes unreasonable is how they assume superiority and how they use this to exert authority.

(A charming response about how the stuffed animals view this: Piglet points out that Rabbit is both clever and Has Brain, and Pooh replies that this is why Rabbit “doesn’t understand anything.”)

Owl is characterised by being a bit of a fraud. The stuffed animals respect him for his presumed education and literacy, but even a preschooler understands that Owl can’t actually read. he actively deceives the other characters in order to maintain a higher social status over them. (Actually, Rabbit’s the most literate character in the Wood.) Owl gains relatively little advantage from this status, apart from his belief that he is superior and the pleasure in everyone deferring to him. A notable theme throughout the written series involves characters approaching Owl for advice, based on his self-made reputation of being wise and thoughtful, and him giving explicitly bad advice, rather than admit that he has no idea how to help. Also, they forcibly give him someone else’s house, in such a way that the actual possessor of the house (Piglet) feels he can’t speak up. Pooh immediately offers to Piglet that he move in with him, which even as a kid felt like an incredibly unsatisfactory solution to having the shyest character’s actual house given away to the character who casually lies about everything just to feel superior.

Rabbit is a grown-ass adult real wild animal. He is the social leader of a massively large family and an extended group of hangers-on (he has fifteen or seventeen close relatives, and the extended Friends-and-Relations are a sort of army); he is the only actually literate person in the narrative, so it is understandable that he feels this (although he also believes Owl can read.) literacy and Brain are considered very important in the Wood.

Rabbit believes in his own superiority and believes himself to serve as a sort of cadet to Christopher Robin. In the series Christopher Robin is the ultimate judge, and a kindly ruler; Rabbit positions himself constantly at Christopher Robin’s right hand and wants to be his enforcer. Christopher Robin, who is five and a fairly distracted God, does not really enforce anything. This does not stop Rabbit from trying to organise the entire Wood. It’s frequently mentioned that Rabbit wants to feel important, he wants to be the Boss. A beautiful, beautiful commentary on his character is when he wakes up feeling “important, as if everything depending on him… it was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody said “Yes Rabbit” and “No Rabbit” and waited until he had told them.” Fantastic!

However, we can see where this leads him. In the first book Rabbit is shown being hostile and actively anti-foreign in his approach to other people. When kanga and roo arrive in the forest - sanctioned by Christopher Robin who has received new toys - Rabbit instantly says they have to get rid of them. Like there is NO friendship in Rabbit’s heart here. There is no “god has placed a new friend in the wood so we have to get on with it.”

Rabbit’s anti-immigration stances are funny, and in-character, and shown by the narrative to be wrong and unfair. But they’re pretty unleashed.

His plan is to kidnap the baby and hold it hostage until the mother agrees to “leave the forest forever and never return.”

This is not a normal response to a new character. It is in fact fucking unhinged. Coming from the most normal-adult real animal in the story, it comes out of nowhere. “We have to eliminate them instantly. Take the baby hostage, blackmail the parent and deport them” Rabbit these are war crimes.

Anyway it’s all very heartwarming as Rabbit learns that he likes Baby Roo. (Their relationship grows warmer as Baby Roo says “yes rabbit” and “no rabbit” better than anyone else.) We never really learn why Rabbit is so violently anti-immigration that he instantly jumps to doing crimes, but it’s possible that he doesn’t like the threat to the status quo. Baby Roo, by deferring politely, thus turns out to be a valuable social inferior for Rabbit’s power base.

But in the next book we also get another new character introduction: Tigger. rabbit does not like tigger. In fact, he stops visiting Roo because Tigger lives with them. Rabbit, frustrated by Tigger’s bounciness, also decides to deliberately trick and bully Tigger in order to make him “small and sorry.” The fact that this comically backfires on Rabbit is part of the Pooh-lore storytelling style, of course, but it’s still something obvious even to the preschool audience - that isn’t how you treat your friends.

In conclusion, due to their hoarding of (social) capital and behaviors that prop up an unjustly unequal social system, I think the real animals in Winnie the Pooh are a bit bougie.

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mostly-imagines · 2 days

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Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason meets his daughters

warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE

see for: the vibes

His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment.

He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.

He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”

Dad?

“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.

He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?

“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”

He can’t think.

This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.

He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”

He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.

“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs.

He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise.

Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.

He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.

He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.

“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”

“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.

His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—

“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”

He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”

You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.”

“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.

“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God.

You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”

He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”

He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”

“We have kids?”

You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”

“Five?” He breathes.

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.”

He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”

“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”

He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly.

You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.

You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.

“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.

“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face.

“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”

There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.

“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.

You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.

“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.

“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.

“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”

He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”

You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.

This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head.

You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”

His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”

There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.

You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.

Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.

He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.

Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”

You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”

“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.

Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.

“Father?” She calls out sweetly.

You sigh, “Ryan—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”

Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”

“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”

Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one.

“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess.

Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”

Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”

You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”

She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”

Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”

You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”

Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”

You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”

This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.”

Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.

“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”

Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”

“I can do it.” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on.

“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”

Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.

He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed.

She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”

She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”

Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now.

““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way.

He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly.

He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at.

“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed.

Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?”

That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?”

She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”

His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”

She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.

He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.

His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.

He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.

Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.

“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”

You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.”

Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”

He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”

You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”

“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”

She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.

You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas.

“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.

You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.

You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”

He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”

“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.

The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.

“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?”

He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”

“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”

He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”

He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over.

Nightwing moues at him “I don’t care?”

Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you.

He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”

Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”

Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.

He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:

WE’RE HAPPY

❤️ REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING ❤️

462 notes · View notes

ciggyy · 7 hours

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Satoru Is the type of guy to scare children away at the park.

You arrive there, only to see that it's filled with kids playing and laughing, seemingly oblivious to your presence. Satoru, however, seems to take great offence by their presence.

He clawed out his hands over his head, roaring at the kids and running after them. Soon the air was filled with childish cries and screams as they ran for their lives before Satoru could “catch them and eat them up for dinner.”

As much as you kind of felt bad, you couldn't help but laugh at the scene. Meanwhile, Suguru stands beside you, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression one of amused indulgence, but you see the way the corners of his lips tug upwards by just a whisper.

After all the kids were out of sight, Satoru came running back over, his arms spread wide as if he had just conquered a great victory. “I made them all run away.” He announced proudly, his breath coming in panting gasps. “Now we can use the playground without those little brats annoying us.”

“You’re such a meanie, Satoru.” You rolled your eyes at him, making him smirk. He had seen you laughing from the corner of his eyes while he was chasing those brats. It sent his heart fluttering.

He was really the reason of the smiles on your faces and the musical sounds of your laughter. The two most beautiful people in the world. To him, there was no greater victory.

“You sound like a dying donkey, by the way.” He rolled his eyes, changing the subject and pretending that the flutter in his stomach wasn’t there.

“At least I don’t look like one.” You bite back, sticking your tongue out at him.

Satoru scoffs as if he was offended, squinting his eyes at you accusingly. “Well, at least I don't smell like one.”

"Ha!” You bark out a laugh, eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “Says the guy who stinks up the entire room with his farts!"

“Wah wah. SatORu’S FarTS Are SO sTiNkY.” He stuck his bottom lip out, lifting two fists under his eyes and twisting them back and forth in a mocking manner. “At least my voice isn’t sooooo anoyyyingggg.”

He was lying, his love for hearing your voice contradicted with the words that came out of his mouth. He was only teasing. He turns his body to face you, keeping his feet planted on the ground before leaning his body slightly forward, close enough to touch foreheads if you took a step.

A warmth rushes up to the tips of your ears, and you’re grateful that they’re hidden under your hair. Curse him and his stupid antics. Why does your body have to react like this over the small fact that he’s inches away? Making your heart race or whatever. God, he never lets you hear the end of it.

"That's rich coming from someone with the personality of a dried-up raisin."

“Hey now, that’s not true." Satoru straightened up again, feigning hurt.

“I’ve no doubt Nanami, Utahime, AND Shoko would second my opinion.” You affirm, fighting the twitch of your lips. “Haibara would too.”

The white-haired epitome of ego turned to Suguru, a slight frown on his face as he pointed at himself. “Do I have the personality of a dried-up raisin?”

“You two are starting to sound like a couple of arguing cats." Suguru resolutely avoided the question and started making his way towards the playground. “I’m gonna go play.”

“Me too.” You call out and follow him.

“Wait for me!” A pouty Satoru runs close behind.

You were way to big to properly fit on those small swinging animals with the springs. You had to pull your legs super close to your chest in order to properly swing back and forth on it.

Satoru’s legs were way too long to go down the short kid slides. He tries his best to fit his long legs on the slide, but he eventually gives up and just slides down on his stomach, letting out a loud “woo!” at the bottom.

Suguru’s feet still touched the ground as he “swung” on the monkey bars. He had to bend his knees down a little so his head wouldn’t bang onto the red bars above him.

Your voices rang out with a carefree atmosphere. You talked about everything and nothing. Unwarranted laughter mixing together. It was moments like these that you’d never trade for anything else in the world.

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restinslices · 1 day

Note

Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick.

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment.

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room.

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that.

“You look like shit” you said.

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you.

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing.

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”.

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space

Just enough time for doctors to look you over

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you.

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try.

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him.

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there.

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”.

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away.

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man.

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face.

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time.

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating

When they find you he's so relieved

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive.

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better.

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah.

“Tomas?” You said.

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out.

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright.

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief.

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

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mint-8 · 2 days

Text

Platonic Yandere Pet × GN! Reader

Disclaimer: Please, do not read this as romantic or sexual. Having those sorts of relationships or feelings towards real animals are signs of mental illness (zoophilia), and I implore that you get some sort of therapy if you have such emotions towards animals or your own pets. Read this as purely platonic love.

- While it's true that we can't know for sure what our pets think of us, we can imagine how far their love for their owners would go if it was ever tested, especially if their previous homes weren't the best.

Platonic Yandere Dog

- Yandere Dog who you adopted as a rescue. They came from an abusive household and were extremely afraid of humans, whimpering in fear when a person got too close and with low energy all day long.

- Yandere Dog that, when they realized that all the treats, toys, and soft beds were proof of your love for them, finally let their true colors out.

- Yandere Dog whose tail wags a mile a minute every time you pet them or give them kisses, guaranteed they'll lick your entire face as a thank you! Who cuddles in your bed every night, eats alongside you in every meal, and who never tries to run away. They will always stay close to you and would never dare to hurt their owner!

- Yandere Dog who wants to play and receive affection 24/7, and sort of understands that you can't always give them love because you are "busy" or something like that. It's ok! They can stay sit next to you on the floor or the couch or bed until you are done!

- Yandere Dog who waits dutifully in front of your home's door for your arrival! Who also tends to growl and bark at anyone else that isn't you, but they wouldn't dare to bit them, oh God no! Well, maybe if they try anything suspicious.

- Yandere Dog who would, with no hesitation, maul a person or animal into a bloody death if they ever sense they are trying to hurt you! They would never forgive themselves if they allowed their precious human to get hurt by an enemy! They would rather die than let that happen!

Platonic Yandere Cat

- Yandere Cat who you found abandoned in a street near your home. They were dirty and clearly hurt and/or sick.

- Yandere Cat who was taken directly to the nearest veterinarian and who you decided to adopt to save the little kitten from death.

- Yandere Cat who doesn't fully trust this human. They were abandoned by their previous owners as soon as they stopped being "cute", why wouldn't you be any different from them?

- Yandere Cat who will hiss and scratch you every time you get close, and who always keeps a distance during the first months of living with you. But even with their aggression, you persevered and continued to buy them the best food, toys, and softest beds you could find.

- Yandere Cat who mellows down over time and finally allow you to pet them! Not for long, though, for they will only grace you with their presence for a few seconds and then run away.

- Yandere Cat who, at last, realizes that you, their owner, truly love them and wish to protect them no matter what. After this realization, they immediately become extremely cuddly, seating and sleeping in your lap, purring every time you scratch behind their ears and licking your face as a reward for giving them kisses!

- Yandere Cat who walks all around your house because they own it and makes sure to kill any pests that they can find while you're out! They are an apex predator, after all! They must teach those bugs who is the boss in this household!

- Yandere Cat who mews at you to get your attention when you are busy and, if they don't get it, will eventually break something so you give them some cuddles. They might be an attention seeker, but are a total cuddle bug as well! Always sleeping alongside you in bed every night!

- Yandere Cat who judges every visitor that dare to enter their realm and who hisses and scratches them if they ever get too close.

- Yandere Cat who is well aware they aren't the strongest, but are willing to risk their lives in order to protect yours! The kind and sweet human who saved them from a life in the streets, and who gave them a new chance in life!

#yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere pet #yandere animals #yandere dog #yandere cat #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

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muwapsturniolo · 1 day

Text

✯𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 01✯

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇...The Demigods have access to social media

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: nothing really.

this is the version where they are the sons of the male gods. the characters labeled y/n are the daughters/son of Aphrodite, Zeus, and Hecate. let me know if you want a version of insta posts where the triplets are sons of goddesses!!!

Liked by prettyinpinky/n and more...

Luvrboymatt: another spectacular show in the bag✨ thank you to everyone who came or was a part of the crew. Wine and other things at mine tonight (if you didn’t get an invite don’t fucking show up!)

Comments:

prettyinpinky/n: it was so good!!! thank you for putting me in a privet booth to enjoy the show. you have truly outdone yourself matt🌸

→ luvrboymatt: anything for you gorgeous

→ lonerboychris: kids down bad....why didn't i get a privet booth?

Lightningthiefy/n: show was great bro, can't wait for the after party!

demigod1: oh my god matt you looked so good! cant wait to spend time with you at the party!!

→ prettyinpinky/n: mmm no youre not invited💕

→ Luvrboymatt: what she said

Liked by Luvrboymatt and more...

Prettyinpink.y/n: yes I had a dress change during the break.

Comments:

demigod5: gorgeous as always

demigod2: there was no reason for you to change outfits.

→ Prettyinpink.y/n: if you're mad and can't dress just say that.

Luvrboymatt: you're so extra

→ Prettyinpink.y/n: and you love it!

→ Luvrboymatt: correct

Liked by lightningtheify/n and more...

flyguynick: I did in fact take a couple of knick-knacks from people in the crowd🤭 you’re not getting them back either

Comments:

Prettyinpink.y/n: GIVE ME BACK MY RING NICK I KNOW YOU TOOK IT!

→ flyguynick: you snooze you lose!

demigod4: I knew I didn't just lose my necklace!

lightningtheify/n: giving me a run for my money, maybe you're the lightning thief.

lightningtheify/n: also, can I please get my watch back?

→ flyguynick: mmmm, I'll make an exception for you.

Liked by flyguynick and more...

Lightningthiefy/n : sorry to those who got electrocuted. My aura is shocking 😮

Comments:

luvrboymatt: this is a corny caption bro

→lonerboychris: corny as FUCK!!^^^

→Lightningthiefy/n: keep talking and I'm not bringing shit to the party.

→luvrboymatt: did I say corny? I meant amazing!

→flyguynick: I'll say it for you matt, CORNYYYYYYY

Liked by thatwitchy/n and more...

Lonerboychris: Wasn’t in the play but I did terrorize the cast in the back. Ft a doll I found in Matt’s dressing room

comments:

demigod6: ummmm

demigod7: ????

lightningthiefy/n: MF WHO IS THAT BEHIND YOU?!

→lonerboychris: ??? there's no one behind me?

lovrboymatt: you and your creepy-ass friend can stay at home!

→lonerboychris: Don't talk about @ thatwitchy/n like that!!

→flyguynick: DUMBASS WE ARENT TALKING ABOUT HER WE ARE TALKING ABOUT THAT BIG PURPLE FUCK BEHIND YOU!

thatwitchy/n: what are yall freaking out about in the comments? there's nothing behind him.

→lightningthiefy/n: nahh yall weird!!

→Prettyinpink.y/n: this couple scares me!!!!

Liked by lonerboychris and more...

Thatwitchy/n: Bonnie and I enjoyed being in the play. Thank you for fun @ luvrboymatt

comments

lightningtheify/n: only one at this camp who matches my fly🥶

lonerboychris: can we skip the party and just stay at mine?

→thatwitchy/n: you read my mind!

→luvrboymatt: @ lonerboychris I will literally beat your ass if you don't show up!

→lonerboychris: @ luvrboymatt don't make me get Richard :)

→flyguynick: who the hell is Richard?

→lonerboychris: the purple guy in my recent :)

→prettyinpink.y/n: HUHHHH?!?!?

let me know what y'all think!!! I'm not too good at the whole Instagram post thing but I'm willing to keep trying them out!

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #nick sturniolo x male reader

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funtheysaid · 3 days

Text

IWTV 2x02 Initial Thoughts (Stream Of Consciousness)

- ooh the title card changed! I’ve been wanting to see the Eiffel Tower as a “fang” since season two was announced. WE IN PARIS BABY!

- ayooo three-way (interview) incoming

- Daniel’s “Paris sucks” aka “Paris is where my ex-bf is from and he sucks (dick), but not mine anymore, and no, I’m not bitter abt that, his city just fucking stinks (literally)”

- not two minutes in and Devil’s Minion is already flirting bickering

- ALICE MENTION alice!armand truthers are gon love that shit i just know

- “I’ll tell you what a woman is” That’s my sapphic-coded queen!!! 🕯️ pls S2 give me claudeleine 🕯️

- “Gauche” well, yes.

- Loumand: 🥰🥰 Daniel: 🙄 he‘s so second-hand embarrassed for them I can’t

- I mean, it’s crazy. What? We finish each other’s- I WAS WITH HIM FOR LONGER THAN LESTAT WAS WITH HIM WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN DANIEL PUT IT ON RECORD WEVE BEEN FUCKING FOR LIKE DOUBLE THE TIME …that’s what i…was….gonna say?

- Louis would be that faux-intellectual hipster who has his own darkroom full of overexposed and blurry, unfocused photos that are his “art” bc he took them on film (affectionate)

- Not claudia calling him out on it in the next scene “let me think I’m deeper than I am” okay honey you do you

- “She’s miserable but she doesn’t want to fuck with your too delusional left bank dilettante vibes” ahh the narrative foils are foiling, I see

- The show: Alice was pregnant, My dumb ass: OMEGAVERSE DEVILS MINION !?!?

- “joyfully joyless” MOOD.

- Claudia looking at Madeleine like “I don’t know if I want to be her or be with her” Dw babe it’s a rite of passage for all of us you’ll figure it out

- “Your French is ugly” 🥹👉👈 weally?

- “the dress for my body” LOOK I know what she meant, but I can’t help it that my mind is perverted

- LMFAO NOT GLORYHOLE PARK

- okay why Loumand playing with my heart “I will never harm you. And I never have” wtf wtf wtf

-Oh no the ole business card trick! we all know that’s Louis’ kryptonite he loves a man with credentials

- i like girls, but why is santiago kinda…

- Woah the Annika scene was really hard to watch which I think was the point but goddamn idk if I’ll be able to rewatch that part

- Estelle is my self-insert. I’m claiming her.

- “You both fucked Lestat!?!” HOW DID THEY KNOW WE WANTED HIM TO SAY THAT!?

- “He tasted of vermouth and annihilation” We both know you have no earthly idea what that man tastes like, Armand. Be so fucking fr right now.

- Did Armand just casually drop that he had a threesome with a father and son? I’m sorry, sir????

- “Now I know what two blood fat cocks slapping hands feel like” When I tell you my spirit left my body

- oh shit here we go. I’m a caged animal and it’s time for my weekly enrichment. give me my loustat.

- there’s a letter !?!? Wait wait I wasn’t ready for something like this wait stop stop please

- “all my love belongs to you. you are its keeper” just take me out back and shoot me at this point

- “it is a thin veil” fucking fuck why was that so romantic??

- the blood tears welling up in Lestat’s eyes I’m-

- “Rebound of my life” and in that moment, he spoke for the people

- WHAT IS HAPPENING???? Jesus Christ, they were talking about Alice and then it cuts to FUCKING ARMAND!?! This is not a drill. Everyone to your stations, this is not a drill.

- “You sold your Dad’s playboy magazines at recess” Hmmm? You’re telling me a “straight” teenage boy sold porno mags instead of keeping them for himself??? Yeah, I call gay on that one

- “she wanted to say yes” you motherfuckers.

- Oh shit Louis is pissy tonight rawr kitty got claws

- Devils minion girlies are thriving, skin glowing, hair silky, breath minty, pillow cold, stomach full, dreams sweet, and by Jove, we fucking deserve it !!!!

- daniel’s shaky “um- gulp” …….guys this is gonna sound crazy but i think there might actually be a god

- ooh the camera/photography being like a divide or barrier between Louis and his present situation. Like he wants to capture the moments, but only as if an onlooker and not a participant… interesting!

- “Who?” will never not be funny

- “Mon ami” in the same episode as “Mon Cher” FUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW

- “Armand for you” nah nah nah i changed my mind, you can do like Leatherface and shove that chainsaw in rough and hard

- Close up on Louis’ conflicted face, fire blazing behind him…. That’s not foreboding in any way. I’m sure they’ll all live happily ever after from now on :D

What a ride! Until next week! 🧛‍♂️🩸

#interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv season 2 #iwtv 2x02 #iwtv thoughts #iwtv musings #loustat #devils minion #claudeleine #iwtv spoilers #iwtv s2 #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #iwtv armand

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malrie · 3 days

Text

for: @jasipereo, who told me i should what: in the burning maze, apparently they fly off together after jason dies and nothing happens at all. this is the nothing. wc: 1700

Piper had grown out her hair since Leo saw her last. He touched the ends of it, feeling the familiar softness between his fingers.

“Did you get taller?” she asked, voice strained from having cried so much. He didn’t see her expression; she was sitting in front of him on Festus, facing only the white sky.

“I dunno,” he said, because he didn’t. Time was strange in that other place. To him, he’d been gone for only a moment. As if he hadn’t been lost at all.

She leaned backwards. Without having to ask, Leo let the internal heat from his body migrate to her. They were just below plane altitude, maybe four or five miles in the air. It was cold, but he wouldn’t let her be.

Had Piper not been there, Leo would have pried the casket open and crawled inside to lie beside him. He was sure of it. The instinct was nonsensical, even desperate, and still it pulled him like water down a drain. He wanted to see him again. He wanted to see him with his eyes closed, as though he were only asleep. And Jason had always been a peaceful sleeper.

Back then, Piper’s iron grip on his forearm had anchored him. Maybe she felt the urge, too. Maybe they could have all fit inside. There, they could have dreamt as one, having found peace in a place where nothing could tear them apart. Together again.

“You did,” she replied. “Get taller, I mean. Just a little.”

Piper had a room in her grandpa’s ranch house that she hadn’t used since she was eleven. Leo inspected the off-white curtains, the stuffed animals on the bookshelves. She had a pink CD player and a Hello Kitty pillowcase. It was strange, confronted with the idea that she had lived a life before him.

He helped her unpack what little she brought with her. Downstairs, Leo heard Coach’s booming timbre, comforting in its own way. He and Mellie would stay in the guest room with Chuck, leaving Leo to fend for himself in the den.

“What’re you gonna do now?” asked Piper, folding two pairs of orange camp shirts and sorting them in a dresser.

Leo laid on her carpet, eyeing the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling. “Calypso wants to enroll in school. I tried telling her about the shithole that was secondary education, but she wanted to experience it herself. As for me, I’m never going back. S’one of the conditions I made for living at the Waystation.”

Piper paused in her folding. Then she started up again, this time with a pile of sweaters. She lingered on a blue one that read: Edgarton Day and Boarding School.

“I’m starting Tahlequah High next week,” she said.

“And I’ll make it to your grad party, beauty queen.”

He figured. Piper liked school enough; he knew she never missed an assignment at Wilderness. Meanwhile, Leo turned every packet he got into paper planes, letting them ride the Nevada gust out his dormitory window.

“If you’re not finishing school,” she continued, “what’ll you do? Help Hemithea and Josephine?”

“That’s sorta the plan.” Leo rubbed his eyes. The stars were too old to hold any glow now. “I guess… I guess I just want something to keep busy. Maybe teach shop for the kids for however long. After that, I don’t know. Being in one place too long… I’m not real good at that.”

“So no camp?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no camp. You?”

“No,” Piper said, then laughed along with him.

He knew she didn’t mean she hated either camp, their friends, or their community—they only needed distance, measured and in moderation. Jason was everywhere, after all. Jason Grace’s lifeblood was the legacy of both camps. In a way, that was what had taken him from them. The gods had owed Jason ten times over and this was how he was repaid. There was nothing for Leo there, no loyalty, and Piper felt the same, even if only mirroring an inch of his resentment.

They ate dinner with everyone. Tristan still had some lost pallor, but his charisma was hard to chip at, especially when his daughter needed him. Toothless Chuck gummed around a piece of summer squash while the rest of them ate a hot meal cooked by a friend of the family. People had been in and out of the house all day; their fridge was stocked for the entire week. The McLeans had roots here. They were loved and welcomed. Leo and Piper had stayed inside her room like homebodies until the visitors had all left.

While Mellie put Chuck down for bed, Tristan and Coach cleared the table and washed the dishes. Piper told Leo that they’d probably go out on the porch and smoke some of her grandad’s tobacco pipes once they were done, a vice her dad failed to keep secret from her.

Snickering, they imagined Coach hacking a lung and ambled upstairs to her grandpa’s study. It was a small and cool space. Her grandfather kept a large collection of books of all kinds that ranged from Indigenous history to psychology to science fiction. Aside from the bookshelves, which weren’t as dusty as Leo would’ve imagined, there was a desk with a swivel chair and a large claw-footed single-seater sofa in the corner of the room, just by the window.

Leo grabbed a book off the shelf just for the fun of it and plopped down on the sofa. The words swam around on the pages. Even if he could read it, he doubted he could parse analytical biochemistry jargon.

“I used to come up here when Grandpa was doing his lesson plans,” said Piper. Tom McLean was a structural biology professor. “I’d beg for him to play with me, but he’d just say, ‘My love, you cannot have what you want the instant you desire it.’ I liked that. Not even then was it easy for people to say no to me. He was the only one.”

Looking out the window, Leo saw the shine of Festus’s metal in the darkness. The dragon was hunkered down in the yard, closest to sleep as automatons could get.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Leo said. He rested his gaze on the horizon that bled into the night. “Calypso’s waiting for me.”

“I know.” Piper came over to him, gently pulling the textbook away from his grasp. It forced him to look at her.

A beat passed. “I’m sorry, Piper. About Jason.”

She smiled wryly, placing Clinical Biochemistry: Techniques and Instrumentation onto the side table. She asked, “Why are you saying sorry to me?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. She stood over him, the moonlight from outside overlaying her skin like a filter, the image of an aching spector. Her face was unreadable. Tonight, her eyes were one color, and it was borrowed, familiar: electric blue, as vibrant as the sky once a storm had cleared. His eyes.

Still standing, she raised a hand, placing it over his arm in an innocuous touch. “You loved him, too,” she said. Leo’s hackles rose, but it was true and—now that Jason was dead—harmless. “Leo, we weren’t together anymore. I broke up with him. After you died, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work it out. Work us out. Because without you, it was like… Like the lights had gone out.”

His hand grabbed her wrist, wanting to rip it away, but he couldn’t. “Wait. I-I don’t want to hear this,” he said.

If only she had never brought it up. Mellie had told him earlier in the day, with Chuck on her hip and wearing a worried frown. Piper and Jason had split some months ago. They never went further to explain, but to everyone who knew the two, it was apparent that it had torn at them.

“I thought,” she kept going, “that if you had come back, maybe Jason and I could have—with you… But we never got a chance.”

“Piper,” he said firmly, getting up from the seat to grab her shoulders. “You have to stop. I’m leaving tomorrow, at dawn. I’m moving to Indiana. I’ll come for birthdays, special days. We’ll see each other at reunions. I’ll Iris you—every day if you want! It’ll be good. Like we always were. Like we were before everything. Don’t do this.”

“You can’t stay,” she said. “I know. I know because it happened to me, too. It hurt to be with him because you weren’t there. And I know you see him when you look at me. What color are my eyes, Leo? Whose are they? He used to see yours.”

It had to happen, just once, even if never again for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t even their first kiss, which had happened a lifetime ago, on some forgettable rooftop in a place that never loved them. He shook a little as her hands came up to his neck, as though the cold affected him. His mouth tasted salt from her tears. Piper made small noises, gasping in increments when they could bear to part. They tumbled back to a bookshelf, some hard edges jutting against Leo’s spine.

It was important that he was the one to speak first. Not because he didn’t trust her not to compel him, but to prove that he knew she wouldn’t. Not for this.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” repeated Leo, thumb rolling down her jaw. “That’s hours away.”

Leo got up before the sun did. Oklahoma mornings were crisp and new, almost impossibly so. The fog in the distance cleared around the McLean property, grass dewing with small beads of fresh water. Standing on the porch now, Leo knew this would be a good home filled with love.

Tristan McLean saw him come out of Piper’s room. He didn’t react much, only telling him to be safe on his journey back. He’d also shaken his hand like a real man and said, “She’s stronger than I’d ever hoped.”

“Stronger than me,” Leo replied, smiling.

Seeing him, Festus crooned in happy creaks, shaking out his stiffness. As Leo took off, he could have sworn he saw the curtains in Piper’s window move. Just in case, he brought up his hand to wave goodbye.

#liper #jasipereo #valgrace #rrverse #heroes of olympus #hoo #fic #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #< HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE YAYYYY

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zooophagous · 8 hours

Text

Mr. Strauss had long, long grown accustomed to surviving off of charity. Perhaps a blow to one’s pride, but one cannot eat pride. Or live in it. Or clothe one’s self in it. Or hide from the sun or other threats to one’s life in it. Charity seldom lets you choose what you want, however, and while Strauss would never insult or complain about the shelter so graciously offered to him when it really shouldn’t be- the smell of fresh paint and adhesive and dust and other accouterments of construction overwhelmed his senses and put him quite on edge.

Sleep did not come easy in the half-renovated halfway house- despite reassurance that it was indeed safe- but sleep did eventually come. And when it left, he roused himself from the somewhat itchy blankets and the too-small bed and made his way to the dining area which was decked out in plywood floors and bare sheetrock. Much like himself, half formed and barely useful.

Artemis, who sat at the table, was more useful but had gotten about half as much sleep. Her eyes wore dark circles, and her one good eye was fixed intently at a printout of a dispatch log, scanning it for something. What exactly she didn’t know. She’d know it when she saw it. A few entries had been highlighted bright yellow. Promising leads.

“How goes your hunt, Van Helsing?” Strauss asked quietly and sat himself across from her at the little foldout table.

“Bad. These are all of the dispatch logs for animal control in between the date of the fire and today. None of these sound like a lycanthrope. Except maybe a couple of these- an unknown animal, a large dog and what sounds like a black bear here on the 5th. But there’s no followup to any of them.” She sighed and tossed the papers aside.

“I’m worried, Strauss. If he hasn’t been seen at all there’s only two real options. He’s gone completely feral, mindless, living off the wild. Or he’s…”

“Or he’s dead.” Strauss replied sullenly.

“Right.”

Strauss sighed and sat down. “If he’s died, his remains have yet to be recovered. Vicar Martin tells me there are still no sightings of him. He is presumed missing.”

“Which can only mean wherever he is, he’s in the woods somewhere. Basically impossible to track unless you’re a big game hunter. And I don’t know about you, but I ain’t one, and I’m also not about to try and hire one on the down low.”

“So we must find him ourselves.”

“How? With what?”

“I can do a search for him. I may not be a bloodhound but I can smell him, hear him from a long ways off. If I take to the air I may even be able to spot such a large animal-”

“No. You’d be way too visible. Especially because you know the Witchfinders are already out in his last known location looking for him.”

“Not just looking, laying traps, planting cameras, I even hear talk of using an infrared camera attached to a drone.” A cheerful voice interrupted the conversation. Vicar Martin invited himself in with a weary smile. “Sorry. Couldn’t help but overhear. But your friend is in very dire straits. God only knows how he’s managed to escape them for this long.”

“Assuming he’s alive. He hasn’t made contact with anyone as far as we know.” Strauss grumbled in reply.

“Well, if it’s any comfort, he’s still not their main target and the fact that they have no idea where he is bodes well for us beating them to it.”

“You say ‘us’ as if you’re on our side, Vicar.” Strauss smirked.

“I may as well be. I’d be in just as much trouble as the director here if they caught me aiding and abetting a vampire.”

“If you were smart you would have handed me over already and claimed a tidy cash prize for it.” Strauss rolled his eyes. “None of us are wilderness trackers. We have a choice to make. Continue searching for Herr Cunningham or shift gears to a task that seems more attainable.”

“What did you have in mind?” Artemis rested her head on her hand.

“We do still need to stop Sylvain.”

“In what world is THAT more attainable?”

“I didn’t say capture. That would be a fool’s errand. I said stop. That we can do with the Van Helsing’s usual methods.”

“What do you think those methods entail?”

“We go back to basics. How does one dispose of vermin? You remove its nest and cut off its food supply. It moves along on its own accord.”

“You want us to find where she lives?”

“And who she is feeding on. If she is not getting meals from charity- and I suspect that is not her “Modus Operandi,”- she is getting them the typical vampire way. Given that she has not left a trail of bodies in her wake, that means whoever she is feeding off of is still alive, and may be a witness that can tell us who she’s planning to kill next, or where to find her.”

The vicar knit his brows in concern. “If this person or persons is indeed alive… they may be in a very delicate situation. If we don’t play this very carefully we could throw the entire investigation and potentially throw this witness into harm’s way.”

“That’s assuming the witness even exists. Are we really going to spend our time chasing hypotheticals?” Artemis asked.

“Hypothetical witnesses, versus very real lycanthropes, and neither option is particularly easy or attractive.”

“I do not care which option we pursue. But we must do something.” Strauss pushed himself up from the table. “We have already decided not to flee, and fleeing would never be a permanent solution. The hounds would be forever at our backs. That only leaves staying and trying to right the situation. Sylvain is still out there and still a very present threat not only to our own lives, but the lives of any unlucky bystander. If Troy is not able to be found, she is the only thing left on our list.”

“Even if we did capture her, Mr. Strauss, I doubt the Witchfinders will decide to spare you. Even if they were ordered not to by the Vatican. They would kill for revenge, and seek forgiveness later.”

“Then I had better get to work to save my friends before they catch up to me.”

“Alright, alright. Is there anything I can do to help in the mean time?” Vicar Martin asked tiredly.

“What you are doing now is more than enough. I will not ask you to risk your head any more than you already have. If any pertinent information comes up, will you let us know?”

“Of course. And when you do decide on a plan of action, keep me in the loop will you?” The vicar excused himself and left his guests to sort out their own problems. Artemis sighed and rested her head in her hands.

“I hate being in charge, Strauss. I don’t know what to do.”

Strauss gave her a sympathetic glance. “I did not want to discuss this in front of the vicar, but there is… another problem.”

“Yes?”

“It has been some days since I last fed. Granted, it was quite a large feed.” He smiled slightly, as if in fond remembrance of the thrill of his fangs in a Witchfinder’s neck.

“That is true. Almost a week. You must be getting hungry.”

“Quite. And my pool of donors has recently shrunk. Not to mention the loss of sterile bloodletting supplies.” He heaved a dramatic sigh and folded himself into a chair with his hand resting theatrically on his head, which was tilted back in the pantomime of fainting.

“In no time I shall waste away to nothing.”

“Or go feral and kill us all while we sit on our hands and argue over what to do.”

“Frau Harker would dispose of me first. But it is true- I need to find a feed sooner or later.”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“I could always just. You know. Make a little cut and just…”

“Do not tempt me.” Strauss groaned. “Perhaps there is another more suitable way. Surely there must be some Witchfinder imbecile who could be convinced to step out of line. Lure him to his own grave.”

“Now it really does sound like I’m colluding with a vampire to feed him victims.” Artemis wrinkled her nose.

“Better them than you? But, stay a minute. This gives me an idea.”

“Yes?”

“Think about it. Sylvain must be finding her meals somewhere. What if I should follow in her footsteps? Seek out the source of her blood.”

“Sure, but where would we begin?”

“Think of it. Where would a hungry vampire- one smart enough not to immediately get caught- look for a target?”

“The same place any killer looks. Runaways, sex workers, homeless people I’m sure.”

“Then that is who we will ask first. The church often hosts dinners for the less fortunate of the city. Perhaps the vicar could ask among their ranks. See if anyone is willing to share. That would be an easy way to hunt for information without either of us spreading our face around town.”

“That’s true… if I know Sylvain though…”

“Yes?”

“She’s going to be picky. She wouldn’t go for just anyone, not any random addict in a gutter. She’d make it count. Strauss, when she killed Gregor White, did she give you any indication of why?”

“Yes. He was targeted specifically because she believed him to be a pedophile.”

“We need to narrow our search criteria then. I’ll start by getting a list of registered sex offenders in the city. If anyone is her blood bag, she wouldn’t feel bad about using one of them.”

Strauss grinned. “Now, there is the hunting prowess that has made the Van Helsing name strike fear into the hearts of vampires for centuries. I am glad it is finally used for me and not against me.”

“I’m glad one of us is optimistic about this.”

“In this moment, Frau Van Helsing, optimism is all that we have. Make your list. We’ve work to do.”

#wayward souls #writing

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storiesbyrhi · 5 hours

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Seven witches and a vampire walk into a human Halloween party in Hawkins, Indiana. 3676 words.

1986

When the witches came to Hawkins, only the animals sensed a change. Squirrels and cottontail rabbits played in the fields. Foxes and deer lined the horizon. Bats swooped, each of them enamored with Eddie – a bat, from what they could tell, but different.

“They think I’m a God,” Eddie had told you once he realised the influence he had on them.

You’d laughed at him. “Well, I think they think you’re a fun toy.”

The flatlands that sprouted homes were surrounded by a fauna-filled welcoming party that would have given any mortal driving by a heart attack. Naturally, you’d been building wards and glamours to keep the coven safe.

When you felt your sisters close, you walked by each of their homes. Eddie had made good on his promise to give them something. Beside the front door to each of the houses was a potted plant that he had grown. The plants he chose were, to him, symbolic of the witch who would take over care of it.

Asphodel for Ev, carolina for Meg, globe thistle for Mel, bluebell for Ash, lycoris for Hailey, and though a little cheesy, a black bat plant for Kelsey.

The fall sun was out, so Eddie would see the witches’ arrival in his small and fluffy form. He settled on your shoulder as you stood and watched the cars go from pinpricks on the horizon to loud and finally, finally, here.

Meg came screaming out of her car. “Does he want pats?!” She bypassed you entirely, holding her hands out for Eddie. If he felt demeaned, he didn’t let on. Eddie let Meg scoop him up and cradle him in her hands. She wandered off with no further greetings.

“How’s he gonna feel about that?” Kelsey asked, pulling you into a hug immediately.

“He is very preoccupied with making a good impression. It’s sweet actually. So… he will probably let her baby him for hours.”

She laughed then looked at you seriously. “Hi,”

“Hi,”

“I’ve missed you,”

“Stop, you’ll make me cry,” you said, holding in your feelings. “So, uh, where…” Turning around, you saw Meg and Mel’s empty cars. “Where are the others?”

“Uh… There’s Ev,” Kelsey pointed.

Ev was already on the edge of the woods, befriending the fox family you’d come to love. A little further in, Mel was taking photos of the old trees.

Suddenly, Hailey’s voice cut through the air. “Every room has bookshelves!”

As you and Kelsey walked to Hailey’s house, you noticed Ash, suspiciously whispering into her garden of dahlias, pointing to the bluebell Eddie left on her porch.

“Guess the fae boyfriend’s moving in too,”

“She told you?!” you screeched.

“And you told Eddie, guessing by that bluebell,”

“Oh, if you think that’s on the nose, wait till you see what he picked for you.”

…

By the last week of October, your coven was well on its way to establishment. Each witch had a list of things they felt were required to feel at home. Mostly, they worked on their houses and gardens. More wards were put in place not only around the valley but around all of Hawkins. The witches embedded themselves in the fabric of the town, starting the long process of helping it flourish again.

Your sisters were excited at the extended invitation to the Byers Halloween party by Dustin. Costumes were the topic of conversation over forest walks and shared dinners. Eddie continued to charm everyone with his mysteriousness when asked what he would be going as. Bets were being placed. He’d pick something cool or clever. He’d be beautiful.

…

You could not have been more different if you tried.

Eddie wore his hair in a low bun. The blue long-sleeved polo shirt and dark bootcut jeans were so normal it made you feel uncomfortable. As requested, you’d performed a simple illusion spell to make his black boots appear brown. It was only when he held the round, orange, plush toy cat did it make any sense.

“Jon Arbuckle,” he announced.

“No, yeah, I figured when you got the toy at Walmart… It’s just… You look…”

Eddie grinned. He saw how unsettled you were.

“I… Um. I think you need something else,” you told him. Reaching out for his ginger cat, he let you take it. Closing your eyes and expanding the illusion spell, you charmed the toy into looking like the actual Garfield. “Here… This helps.”

Eddie took the cat with a shrug. “And you?” He looked you up and down with a predatory gaze. It made your spine arch involuntarily. “I’m afraid I do not recognise this character.”

There was no magic in your costume – just good old fashion arts and crafts. You wore a very, very long yellow-blonde wig and a golden headpiece with a red jewel at its center. Your white dress was also adorned with golden armour. The knee-high boots were painted gold too. More painted plastic armour on your arms and a plastic sword held high.

“Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” you proclaimed. “Princess of Power!”

Eddie cackled.

“She’s from Masters of the Universe. She’s very, very cool,”

“I believe you,” Eddie replied. “You look every part the Princess of Power.”

When you joined the coven by the cars, each looked more confused than the last. Kelsey was the first to break the silence.

“Uh… Nice costumes,” she said.

“This is Garfield,” Eddie replied, holding the cat out.

“It sure is, buddy. This isn’t going to weird the humans out at all.”

Kelsey and Mel sat in the back of your car as you drove.

“The makeup suits you,” Eddie told Mel.

“Yeah, I know this is a costume, but this look is like… It’s working for you,” you added.

Mel, in her Siouxie-best black just shrugged. “Stole a lot of the clothes from Ev.”

In Meg’s car, Ash was giving the other three witches a stern talking to about what she believed were ‘cop out’ costumes.

“Dude, I’m not in costume,” Meg argued. “These are just my clothes!”

“Every year you do this, Ash…”

“What’s the point in being a witch if you don’t do Halloween?” she frowned.

“What’s the point in going as Sandy if you don’t have someone going as Danny?” Hailey asked.

“Maybe she does,” Meg mumbled.

All the girls whispered out little ohhhhhhhhs at Ash’s expense. They wondered, pointedly and out loud, if fae do Halloween. What does a fairy dressed like Danny Zuko look like anyway?

“I left the Catskills for this?” Ash whined, secretly amused, and very much comforted by the fact the coven seemed to be accepting of her fae friend.

…

“You came!” Robin was very drunk, therefore unable to hide her true emotions, which were a combination of surprise, fear, excitement, and grief.

“I’m Jon and this is Garfield,” Eddie introduced before you could say anything.

Robin looked at him carefully. “I kinda thought you’d, you know, come as Dracula or something,”

“He’s aiming for soft and harmless,” you explained. “But if you want stereotypical vampire, Ev’s got you covered.”

Ev waved and bared her plastic fangs.

“Riiiight…” Robin said slowly.

“YOU CAME!” Dustin yelled, pushing Robin out of the way, and beaming with pure excitement. “Oh, hey, cool costume!” he complimented Eddie. “I like your Garfield. Nice touch,”

“Thank you,”

“So, do you have to be, like, invited in formally?” he asked, voice lowering, though the music was so loud nobody would be able to hear him anyway.

“Only because I’m house trained,” Eddie whispered back.

Dustin laughed, pointing to him. “Funny. I like a… funny… vampire, I guess… Come in!”

It was only a little before 10:00 pm but the party was already raging. The Byers’ house was filled with people, some of whom you knew, some not. Everybody needed an excuse to let loose and pretend to be okay for a little while, and you felt they were owed at least that.

The backyard was lit with party lights and whatever else could be hooked up to the power. The moon was waning, with barely 4% illumination. The night was dark and cool, and fires burned in emptied-out oil kegs.

It did not take long for your coven to splinter off and enjoy the night. You sipped at the purple coloured punch Robin offered you, surprised that it had much of an effect on you at all.

“Russian recipe,” Hopper grunted as his eyes followed Eddie around the party.

Eddie, who could not drink the punch, was designated driver one of two. Sobriety would not impede his fun though. As it were, nobody would let anything impede their fun.

…

Seven witches and a vampire walk into a human Halloween party in Hawkins, Indiana.

10:14 pm

Hailey introduced herself to Nancy in the kitchen. Nancy was distracting herself from all the things brewing in her unconscious by opening bags of chips and unnecessarily pouring them into bowls.

“Is Pride and Prejudice your favourite of Jane’s work?” Hailey asked.

Nancy looked at her. “Nobody’s recognised me.” The Elizabeth Bennet costume was accurate, albeit not exactly iconic.

Hailey smiled. “You look great.”

Nancy blushed, shook her head a little. “It’s hard to pick a favourite,”

“Tell me about it. Lizzy’s got to be one of her best characters though.” She left out the part about how she’d helped Jane Austen shape Lizzy into something more than what society expected of a woman, let alone a woman in story.

Nancy nodded. “You… Sorry, what are you?”

“I’m a witch.”

Nancy hesitated. “Oh… Yes, but… What are you dressed as?”

“I’m a witch,” Hailey repeated.

“You’re a real witch who dressed up as a-”

“A witch, yeah.”

Nancy still looked confused.

“See, I have a broom.”

10:28 pm

One was in a lab coat, the other in a red puffy vest. One held a huge remote made of cardboard and glue, the other a video camera.

“You really committed,” you praised them.

“We tried to get Jonathan to come as the DeLorean but he’s trying to look cool for Nancy,” Will explained.

“I think the DeLorean is very impressive,” El added. “It would be a cool costume.”

You nodded. “He could have made it a Transformer situation… So, what did he end up coming as? I couldn’t work it out,”

“Joe Strummer,” Will replied.

“Ah, right.”

Honestly, Jonathan looked like he could have been Joe Strummer or James Dean or a young Lou Reed. Maybe one of the Beat Generation guys. All those white poet musician types ended up looking the same to you.

10:43 pm

Dustin followed Meg through the house, entirely unconvinced. “That’s gotta be a costume,”

“No, Dustin, these are just my clothes,”

“But you look like a pilgrim!”

Meg looked down at her floor length skirt. The billowing cotton. The soft corset cinching her waist. “I mean… I am hundreds of years old… and I take really good care of my clothes.”

Dustin’s mouth was agape. “But you’re magic! You have real magic and you don’t even use it to make a badass costume? And you’re a witch! Aren’t you contractually obliged to celebrate Halloween?”

“No,” Meg replied with a casual shrug. “Why are you interrogating me? There are much more worthy victims in this coven then me,”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, apparently your friend Steve Harrington is haunting Mel. And Ev is dating a werewolf, so…” And with that Meg walked away from Dustin, smirking at the chaos she’d caused.

11:02 pm

You sat in a plastic chair that was probably too close to the open flames in front of it. As you pulled it back and lined it next to Joyce, she smiled at you.

“How’s your night?” she asked politely.

“Uh… Interesting… Yours?”

She nodded and you knew what she meant. “You seem different,” she told you.

You sighed, nodded as she had. “I am. We all are, I think,”

“I think so too.”

Together you sat in comfortable silence and watched the happiness of the party.

“I was glad, you know, when I heard you were staying. Hawkins needs…”

“Help?” you guessed.

Joyce nodded. “And hope. You and your friends… It’s good.”

11:36 pm

“Why didn’t he come? It’s not like it’s a full moon,” Mike Wheeler asked Ev.

“He wasn’t invited,” she answered, looking over the top of him, searching for someone to save her from the teenage conversation.

“Ohhhhh, is it like… Like how vampires can only come in when invited? Did the stories get it wrong and that’s actually werewol-” Lucas Sinclair tried.

“No! Not like that,”

“Is it like when we all thought Dustin’s girlfriend wasn’t real because we never saw her,” Mike asked Lucas then.

“He’s real,” Ev assured them.

“Suzie’s real too,” Lucas began to explain. “They met at camp and-”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s great. Um, who told you about him? My boyfriend, I mean. Who told you?”

Mike and Lucas looked at each other, neither wanting to be the rat.

12:01 am

“You have somewhere to be?” Mel asked Eddie when she saw him watching the clock above the fireplace.

He smiled. “No. It’s… Midnight… Always feels like something is going to happen when the clock strikes twelve,”

“Sometimes it does,”

“Sometimes it does,” he agreed.

12:23 am

The juxtaposition of Erica’s soft face next to all the faux leather, duct tape, and corn syrup blood was both amusing and disconcerting.

“I thought Mad Max was Lucas’ girlfriend’s thing?” you asked her.

Erica was in the kitchen, mixing a feral concoction she was probably going to offer to her brother and all his friends. Not you though. You got a genuine Erica Sinclair smile.

“She’s still in the hospital,”

“What? Why’d nobody tell me? I’ll go and-”

“We don’t know where. Her mum took her. Wouldn’t tell Lucas anything.”

It would be easy for you to find Max. To find her and heal her. It felt a lot like meddling in human affairs though. But what were you now if not a witch that meddled? What was the worth of a rule if it prevented you from helping a teenage girl get out of pain sooner?

Erica saw it on your face. She knew scheming when she saw it. “Oh, you gonna go do some witchy stuff?”

“Maybe… So… the costume,”

“Lucas already gave me shit about it, okay?”

“Oh, no, I was gonna say it’s a cool thing to do. An ode to Max.”

Erica poured some Pabst into a red plastic cup. “To Max,”

“To Max,” you cheered. “Wait… How old are you? Gimme that.”

12.46 am

Nancy and Jonathan danced together in a bubble of their own. It didn’t matter the tempo of the song or if anyone else was on the lounge room dancefloor. They danced.

1:14 am

“Are you kidding me?! Of course you should!”

“I think there are more than enough books and films to satisfy the human curiosity for the undead,”

“Yeah, but none written by an actual undead,” Dustin continued to argue. He’d been going at it for ten minutes straight. “If you won’t write your own story, Interview with the Vampire style, then you should write about all the others… About what they get right. What they get wrong,”

“And what point would that serve?” Eddie asked.

“Well, I would want to read a book by a real vampire,”

“It may not be in the best interests of anyone to discover that vampires were indeed real. Nor that witches are. Nor the horrors that have befallen your town, Dustin,”

“No! No, man. We gotta get the truth out there!”

1:32 am

Robin and Mel found a quiet patch of grass to lie back on.

“So… He just showed up?”

“Yeah,”

“And you’ve never met him?”

“No,”

“And he doesn’t want anything?”

Mel shrugged. “I don’t know… I don’t think he really knows what he’s doing here. He could move on if he wanted.”

Robin thought about it. “What’s the afterlife like? For us, I mean?”

“For humans? We don’t know exactly. It’s almost like there is an infinite number of possibilities…”

“But Steve – Steve Harrington – has decided to haunt a witch he’s never met?”

Mel shrugged again. “I don’t think it says anything about you or the others that he’s not haunted you instead… I think he probably wants to let you all move on.”

Robin sighed deeply. “You got some sort of potion to help with that?”

“There’s no cure to grief, magical or otherwise…” Mel said softly.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Robin replied, her fists twisting into the grass and pulling the blades free from the soil.

2:07 am

“I guess that’s what a fae Danny Zuko looks like,” Ev deadpanned.

She stood next to Kels, watching as Ash and the tiny winged creature danced around one of the drum fires. The fairy was dressed from head to toe in leather. He had glittering tanned skin and dirty blonde curls cut into a typical 80s mullet.

“She looks happy,” Kels said.

“Mmm,” Ev hummed. “Did you hear his name? Cyprian,”

“Yeah, you’re right, a fae named Cyprian is a lot better than a werewolf named Randy.”

Before Ev could respond, Lucas appeared next to the witches. “What is that?”

“That, my mortal friend, is a witch dancing with one of the fae,” Kelsey explained, wrapping an arm around Lucas’ shoulder.

“Why does it look like Billy Hargrove?”

“He, not it, and I don’t know who Billy Hargrove is, but if he’s half as hot as that fairy is, then cheers to Billy Hargrove.”

2:39 am

The night was burning away fast, you couldn’t slow it down. There was something so beautifully human about it that you wanted to keep safe. Wanted to hold it in your hands. Be in it forever.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Eddie’s voice whispered in your ear and his arms wrapped around your waist. He caught you leaning against the back door frame, watching the world go by. His head came to rest on your shoulder.

“It has all been worth it,” you told him. “Everything we did. For them. To get them here. Everything that happened had to happen, the exact way it did.”

They were not without their scars and their grief. They were changed and could never go back. But they were alive and hopeful and strong. Your strange little humans. You’d watch over them for generations to come.

3:13 am

“Magic begins when our bodies come right to the edge of their sensory and linguistic abilities and… something… keeps going anyway…”

The party had begun to wind down. Most of the witches were getting ready to leave, and the human population had thinned out to a handful of people.

Eddie was towards the back of the assembled crowd, watching you intently.

“And now, in the witching hour when the veil is so thin… The air is thick with witchcraft.”

You were using your most dramatic voice as you strutted around a drum of fire, the entire party’s attention on you. The humans were wide-eyed and hushed.

“In this place and in this hour, we may manifest what was not there into existence…”

Your sisters were trying not to laugh.

“Who will be brave and make their wish?” you posed to the crowd.

For a moment it was silent, only the crackling of the flames audible. Even the music had been turned off. Then, someone cleared their throat and stepped forward.

“Yeah, I wanna make a wish,” Erica declared, looking entirely unbothered by the mystique. If anything, she looked like this wish was her birthright.

You conjured a candle in your hand and held it out to her. “Courage, dear heart,” you told her.

3:52 am

“The first train out of town is leaving. Come on!” Meg yelled.

Mel, Ash, Ev, and Hailey said their goodbyes and followed Meg out of the Byers’ house.

“Family breakfast tomorrow?” Ash asked you as she hugged you goodnight.

“I’ll make pancakes. Better make it a brunch though,”

“Cool. Good luck with that one,” she laughed, nodding over to where Kels had Hopper cornered and ten points deep in an argument about whether hotdogs constitute sandwiches.

“Hot dogs are a sandwich. A sandwich consists of two pieces of a type of bread plus fillings contained within the two slices. A hotdog bun is a bun sliced in two, making it two slices of bread. The only difference being that one side of the two halves are still joined. It still however, is two halves that are obviously independent of each other with a filling separating them, therefore a sandwich. One might ask, ‘well in that case, is a calzone a sandwich?’ No. A calzone is enclosed entirely in bread. The two halves are entirely connected. This makes it fit into the pie category. Not the same as a sandwich, but parallel. One might also say, ‘well what if I don't have a bun, so I use a piece of bread as a substitute.’ Yes, using only one slice of bread no longer puts it into the sandwich category. This now aligns us into the toast category. Toast being a single slice of bread being used as a vehicle for a topping.”

4:20 am

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!” Jonathan counted down.

The clock above the fireplace struck twenty minutes past four and the room of teenagers and young adults cheered.

4:37 am

The drive home was peaceful; you kept the radio low and listened to the first rumbles of a storm that was brewing way over beyond Indianapolis. It would arrive tomorrow afternoon. You could smell it in the air.

“They’re special,” Kelsey said from the passenger seat next to you. “Your humans,”

“Even if some of them think a hotdog is not a sandwich?”

“Even if some of them think a hotdog is not a sandwich.”

After seeing Kels into her house, you and Eddie finally retired to your home.

“Happy Halloween, my beautiful little witch,” Eddie cooed when you crawled into bed with him.

“Happy Halloween, my lovely, lovely, vampire.”

End Note: Sorry for going a little M.I.A. I had writers' block (still do) and have felt a weird sort of disconnect from my online world. I'm slowly getting back into it though.

Accurate: the moon phase for October 31, 1986. Not accurate: 420 being associated with weed in 1986, I think that happened sometime in the 90s.

Also, I took a quote from A Spell in the Wild by Alice Tarbuck and paraphrased it a bit ( “Witchcraft starts when our bodies come right up to the edge of their sensory and linguistic abilities and life keeps going anyway.”).

Finally, the hotdog/sandwich argument is a direct quote from the irl Kelso, my inspo for Kelsey.

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