#and the project is still stuck in limbo while i want to skin myself alive :))))))

[subukunojess]

On The Edge of Living (Ch 1)

Archive of Our Own / DeviantArt / FanFiction

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical

Word Count: 5,511

Content Warnings/Awareness: Death, Blood, Possible Gore, Mentions of Abuse, Smoking, Suicidal Themes, Giant, Tiny, G/T, People, objects, and animals are getting eaten, Vore (don’t know whether to tag it as such), Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Found Family, Friendship, just everything is wild.

Pairings: Charles/Delia, Past Charles/Emily, hints of Beetlelands, hints of Lydia/OC

Summary: AU. Lydia Deetz knew her life would turn upside down when she moved to a supposed haunted house with her father and life coach. What she didn’t expect were two actual ghosts living in her attic or being cursed to be bound to a demon sealed in some ancient spell book.With a growing emotional demon by her side and the afterlife betting on their future, Lydia will travel from Hell and back to break the curse and find out where she belongs… if her new town doesn’t end up being rampaged first.

Here’s my entry for the Beetlejuice Big Bang!

This was a surprise project I decided to take on when I saw it on my dash and I wanted to challenge myself writing with word count in mind. I knew I wanted to write a Beetlejuice AU with a tiny Lydia and a giant Beetlejuice, so I worked from there. I also wanted to challenge myself by planning and organizing my story ahead rather than take it chapter by chapter. Although it’s been difficult, I managed to pass the required 10 K mark and plan out the gist of my story. As of now, I have the chapters figure out and I have at least 20 K, but at the moment I have three completed chapters. I hope to work on the fic during my free time. 

Thank you, @beetlejuicebigbang for giving me the opportunity to do this! Without further delay, here’s the first chapter of my fic:

Chapter 1: The Curse Begins

In life, people say that only death is certain. For the afterlife? Eternity, any suffering of some kind, and the places the dead end up. Depending on the soul and the circumstances of someone's death, a person could be sent to a variety of realms. There were different versions of Heaven, Hell, Limbo, and in some cases, a holiday world. This tale in particular resides in the living realm, Hell, and the Netherworld.

There were two major details that the living didn't know about the afterlife. The first one was that the Netherworld was like a creepy airport for the recently deceased, only that it was really a dark abyss that led to who knows where with no way of telling where anyone would end up.

The second thing? Demons are really huge compared to humans, dead or alive. In the living realm, they blended with humans physically to make situations easier. But in Hell? A demon's true height could range between seven feet to hundreds of feet tall. And Hell wasn't just a cavern of fire and brimstone either. It was the dark, grimy underworld of a city where slum lords lurked in the alleys and the air was polluted with a fiery, red haze. It was nine circles of everlasting torture ruled by cardinal sins and vices. And for a certain demon who spent most of her afterlife in the Netherworld, it was an empty and bleak waiting room in a large office building with the walls decaying and the air smelling of burnt socks.

Juno Shoggoth scowled as her heels clacked against the tiles of the hallway, walking to the waiting room while trying not to hunch over as usual. Once she had signed in with the receptionist, she took her seat and briefly pulled the cigarette out from her lips, letting the smoke ooze out from the slit on her neck.

"Why did he have to call a meeting now of all times?" Juno hissed, crossing her legs. "Doesn't he know my work schedule in general?"

As director of Netherworld Customs and Processing, it was her job to make sure that the transition from life to the afterlife went smoothly for the dead. Sure, the work was tedious and the woman would rather smoke for eternity than deal with tiny annoyances, but she was assigned to the position not by choice. She literally and figuratively grew from a civil servant spirit to a powerful demon overnight; one of her proudest achievements she had to admit.

Her biggest mistake was Lawrence.

Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth. Just thinking about his name made her blow another smoke ring and want a shot of alcohol. Like most other demons who were born dead rather than turned into one, Betelgeuse appeared after Juno had affairs with a demon and the demon left. She didn't like children to begin with, let alone raising something that acted like one. Regardless, she didn't have a choice either when a dead-born was involved. Dead-borns were powerful shifters with abilities no one dared imagine and capable of changing their size more smoothly than regular demons, hence the curses placed on them and the mandatory supervision. If every realm in existence turned upside down and the blame traced back to Juno, she would never hear the end of it.

"Lucifer is ready for you now, Miss Juno!" The receptionist's shrill, but deep shriek interrupted her train of thought.

"It's about damn time." Juno muttered under her breath as she threw her cigarette away and stood up. A red line of energy was drawn in front of the demon out of nowhere before splitting in two and opening as a doorway to Lucifer's office. She walked through the portal, the line disappearing as soon as she entered the room. Although she got used to the afterlife, Juno would admit that she didn't know whether it was a relief or unnerving that the room was a typical office one would expect a boss to reside in with a chair and desk, save for the hazy landscape of hell on the other side of the window in front of her. At this point, she didn't even bother wondering.

"Have a seat, Juno." A deep, gruff voice commanded from a leather swivel chair in a calm tone, causing a slight echo in the room. Juno sat on the wooden chair without fanfare, glaring at the window.

The ruler of Hell was arguably the most massive demon ever known, probably rivaled by Leviathan if they got into a mood. Big horns? Monstrous? Usually dwelled at the very bottom of Hell? Most of the rumors were true along with the fact that everybody knew not to mess with him unless they had a wish worse than death. Despite such knowledge, Lucifer appeared from the swivel chair on the other side of the desk, much smaller than normal and dressed for business. A simple black suit and dark red tie with golden cuff links. Dark grey medium length hair with large twisted horns of ivory adorned on top of it. Yellow eyes with pupils akin to a goat's narrowed as he fixed his collar and cleared his throat.

"I have a feeling you know the reason why I called you here." Lucifer stated, raising an eyebrow. Juno returned the action.

"You usually don't call me unless A) you’re redesigning the Netherworld in some way or B) Beetlejuice is involved. Something tells me it's the latter."

"Come on, Juno. Don't sound like I keep calling you because of that! You're a good worker. No nonsense. Telling it like it is while sorting out the souls. You're one of the few demons I could tolerate." When Juno didn't respond, the ruler of Hell continued.

"I just wanted to discuss what our plans are for Lawrence in the future, that's all." Lucifer shrugged. "Just to prevent repeated offenses from happening. Despite his... flaws, your son still has potential. Deceit. Torture. Power that some dead-borns don't have. I wanted him to become an official exorcist demon, but you insisted on having him as a Netherworld guide instead, even though he hasn't done it properly in centuries!" He brought a fist down onto the desk, the whole room seeming to tremble at the action.

"With all due respect, sir, we cannot give any more power and ego than the fool believes he has." Juno hissed as she pinched the bridge of her nose briefly. "If we do, both the Netherworld and Hell would be in shambles. And I believe you just want him to annoy one of your own headaches."

At that, both demons glared at each other and crossed their arms as they leaned forward. They stared at each other down for a while until Lucifer pulled back up with a sigh.

"... You're smarter than I thought." Ignoring the woman's tiny smirk of victory, Lucifer turned his back to her as he stared at the hazy city before him.

"You're not wrong. You got Lawrence and the Recently Deceased, I got the souls of the damned and the other cardinal leaders bothering me. Beelzebub especially. Always gloating that he's more powerful and mainstream than the rest. I figured that if he's with someone just as annoying as him, he'll settle down and we both get them out of our businesses for at least a decade or two. Maybe a century if we're lucky."

Juno scoffed. "That's going to be a problem since I banished mine to the world of the living."

"And how's that going for you?" Lucifer glanced back at the director, almost knowingly. "Knowing him, he'll find a way back to the dead. He always does."

“I can assure you that Lawrence is stuck at the surface with the living and suffering for it.”

Meanwhile in one of the several downtown areas of Hell, something was going down on one of the top floors of a ten-floor apartment.

In front of the building was a black Mercedes Benz with a fly painted on the hood, idle as the driver waited for someone. Inside the car, black sharp nails drummed against the wheel at a scattered and quick pace while the owner of said nails exhaled a buzzing breath.

“Why is he taking so long? There won't be much time left!” The driver growled in a high baritone voice that sounded as if it were melting like butter. His unruly, spiky orange hair seemed to hover over his pointed ears as his bright orange eyes narrowed at nothing specific on the street. He was tall, had dark tan skin, and a bit chubby around the edges with a pot belly held back by a sleeveless maroon shirt and ripped black jeans. The large fly wings on his back hummed against the seat, almost impatient. It was supposed to be a quick stop of supplies and nothing else. What was going on in there?

Just then, there were some muffled shouts until someone burst out through the front door lugging an overfilled burlap sack over their shoulder. The demon was a bit more than five and a half feet tall with golden eyes, pale skin, and wild green hair along with some yellow strands popping out. They wore a dusty dark grey coat over their black and white striped suit and green tie.

They then exclaimed in a masculine, gravelly voice as they scrambled into the front passenger seat, "Step on it, Bee!"

"It's about time!" The orange-haired demon groaned in relief as he slammed the accelerator and the car sped off, causing the other to almost fly out to the backseat, but he held on.

“What took you so long, Beetlejuice?! I’ve been waiting here for decades! Did ya get everything?” Bee inquired with a smile.

Beetlejuice chuckled and nudged an elbow to Bee, “It hasn’t been that long and you know it, Beelzebub. I should know; I’ve been waiting for centuries. And it isn’t my fault this time! A couple o' demons were late, some of the items were wrong, and I kinda-sorta pissed some of the demons off with a femur. Don't ask."

“Damn… my bad. We wouldn’t have taken this detour if dear old Satan and the rest of my ‘family’ didn’t seal some of my powers away! You take over a few séances and possess a large group of people for three weeks and suddenly, you’re the bad guy!” Bee snarled and shook his head before making a sharp left turn at an alley once he saw some shadows at his rear-view mirror.

“I know, right?” Beetlejuice scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sounds just like my mom. ‘Beebleboose, stop bothering the recently deceased and get a job!’”

Beelzebub laughed as he elbowed the dead-born demon, the yellow colors fading back to green. “See? We get each other, BJ! The only other demon who gets me would be my twin, but he’s more about locking his stash away and never using it. Not us. We gluttons know how to have a good time! Why don’t you move down here for the rest of eternity? We could be neighbors, roommates even!”

"As much as eternal suffering sounds awesome, it kinda loses its touch after a while, ya know?" Beetlejuice leaned back in his seat. "Doesn't it get boring torturing and killing souls over and over and they always come back? It's gettin' to a point where everyone expects it. I just wanna get out and have my kind of fun for a change! I wanna be with the living! I don’t want anyone or anything tying me down ever again."

"I hear ya, Ant-Wine. There's just something about the living that's so damn addicting. And I ain't just talking about tastes either! Why do you think I keep risking my existence for the biggest gluttons out there? And what's your job on the surface again? It sounds hilarious!"

"A bio-exorcist. Y'know how the living try to take out demons? I, a demon, take out the living for the dead." Beetlejuice jerked a thumb to his own chest with pride, then shrugged after thinking about it. “Granted, I can’t affect the living and I’m getting ghosts to make the living say my name, but it’s a good gig.”

“Well, ya don’t need to worry about that anymore once we get to the spot!” Bee assured him as he checked to see if anything else were following them, then sighing when they were in the clear. “I got some of my followers on the surface getting themselves into position. When we get there, I possess the leader, say your name three times, and we both get summoned into the land of the living. We scare and eat as much as we want, grow as we please, and we split the world and possibly the universe fifty-fifty!”

“Eighty-twenty.” Beetlejuice challenged.

“Seventy-thirty.”

“Sixty-forty, plus I get a Broadway musical and say-so on the merch!” The green-haired demon pointed finger guns at the other while winking.  

“Deal!” Both demons shook on it.

“Ay dios mio, is that what you were planning all this time?!” A tiny, muffled voice squeaked all of a sudden that almost made the two demons jump. Hearing the source near him, Beetlejuice blinked and glanced down at one of his shirt pockets. He reached to open it when a small head poked out of the pocket. A blueish-green head with long red hair that Beetlejuice recognized from anywhere.

"Teresa?! What are you doing here?" He exclaimed as he almost fell backwards in his seat. The woman in question stood up from her spot in the pocket and lifted her arm to point up at him.

"I could ask you the same thing, mi canalla! Here I am, riding and sliding in your pocket instead of taking my well-earned, once-in-a-death time break! Do you know how much paperwork I needed to file to get it approved?!" Teresa scolded while almost ripping strands of her own hair out, then sighed as she pinched her forehead and muttered in Spanish briefly. "I saw you leaving the Netherworld and I got worried, so I followed you and hid in here while you shifted."

At that, the dead-born demon scowled and crossed his arms. "There's nothin' ta worry about. I'm fine on my own!"

Beelzebub glanced from the wheel to see the tiny spirit and gave a slight smirk, reaching to poke her with his pointer finger. "Huh... So your guardian ghost is Miss Argentina?" At that, Teresa snapped her fingers and pushed the large appendage away.

"That's Miss Teresa Maria Argentina to you, buster! No touching!"  She craned her head up to the giant that carried her. “Who does this guy think he is, anyway?”

“This guy is the demon prince of Gluttony.”

Teresa scoffed, then did a double take and stared at Bee again. "Huh. Not what I expected for the king of all pigs."

"La adulación la llevará a todas partes, Señorita. And there's more to gluttony than just eating." The demon crooned, focusing back onto the street. “We’re in the age of excess, honey, and you’re a part of it whether you like it or not.”

“Oh no, I’m not going to be in your little scheme of yours! Which, by the way, will backfire!” Miss Argentina pointed out before crossing her arms in disapproval.

“You can come to the land of the living with us?” Beetlejuice offered with a grin. Before Teresa could reply, both she and the dead-born jolted forward when Beelzebub suddenly on the brakes. The three looked out the window to see an entire row of demons barricading the street. Some demons had motorcycles and their own cars while others stood with their hulking bodies alone. All of them came in different shapes and sizes. A particular demon who looked more like a chubby dragon in form stepped forward from the crow of angry demons.

“Beetlejuice, we got ya surrounded! Come outta the glutton's car. We just need ta talk!” The dragon demon bellowed with a brash voice.

Beetlejuice let out a laugh, his hair turning a bit yellow at the tips as he opened his window and waved. "Heeeeeey, Rosco! How's the femur?" A growl and glare was his only reply.

"Go on ahead! I'll see if I could blow these guys off and contact Mintaka to back us up! I'll catch up with you two when I can." Beelzebub ordered. Without waiting for an answer, he revved up his engine and made a sharp 180 turn. Magma spewed from between the wheels and created a large wave of molten rock, causing the line of demons to scramble away from it.

“Now!” Beelzebub shouted as Beetlejuice's door opened by itself. The ghost didn't need to be told twice. He flew out of the car and landed on his feet before he ran into a nearby alleyway. A few demons and imps who had avoided the magma followed him.

Teresa clung to the edge of the shirt pocket for dear afterlife as her giant mode of transportation moved quickly. Yes, she was dead, but that didn't mean she was immune to pain. It was also a force of habit.

Beetlejuice cursed at himself. It would've been much easier if he were at the surface and he could just teleport himself away. He didn't have that luxury in Hell. Seeing a wired fence up ahead, he had a plan. He pulled at his hair three times as if grabbing something, then he seemed to throw something invisible to his pursuers. All of a sudden, three clones of himself appeared in front of the demons, blocking them from their path as he leapt onto the fence and clambered up to the other side.

"Damn that rat!" One imp exclaimed in frustration. Beetlejuice smirked and continued moving. After a while, he came across an open clearing and an entrance to a burning park covered in glowing stalagmites. They were close to the summoning spot. The ghost with the most cheered, jumping into the air and pumping his fist. Nothing could ruin his moment! He took a few steps forward...

... only to get tackled by a large dust cloud consisting of Rosco and Beelzebub clawing and gnawing at each other. Beetlejuice snarled as his nails and fangs sharpened, trying to push both demons off of him while biting and scratching anyone who came too close. Teresa ducked down to the safety of the shirt pocket, questioning her afterlife choices. The ball of fighting seemed to stop when both Beetlejuice and Beelzebub grabbed Rosco by the shoulders and slammed him to the side of a building.

"Ha!" The two demons exclaimed in victory. The impact was so great, it caused the building to break in half and topple over, hitting the building next door. And the one after that. And the one after that. Soon, there was a giant building version of dominoes falling one by one until it stopped at a particular office building where two demons were having a meeting.

"BETELGEUSE/BEELZEBUB!" Two voices roared suddenly, echoing all over Hell and possibly the Netherworld as well. Both demons in question stood up straight, let go of the dragon demon, and winced in unison.

"Oh crap."

Before either of them knew it, the two demons and the spirit found themselves in Lucifer's domain, tensed and unaware of what would transpire. As Bee got dragged away in chains, Beetlejuice stood in the middle of the hallway and averted his eyes from Juno's sight, his hair and outfit turning a gloomy violet as his wrists shifted from the handcuffs behind him. Teresa stood on the director's shoulder, not saying a word.

"Why doesn't this surprise me one bit?" Juno stated calmly, only to shriek when Beetlejuice opened his mouth to speak. "You damn fool! You couldn't give me just one year of peace without screwing it up!"

"But mom-!"

"BUT NOTHING! I'll deal with you later." Juno raised the palm of her hand, causing Beeltejuice to stumble backwards and freeze. Without delay, she then took out a piece of chalk from her hair and drew a tiny door on the nearby wall. She knocked on the door three times with her pinky and the door opened up to reveal green mist. She then aligned herself so the ghost on her shoulder was in front of the entrance.

"I take it you enjoyed your relaxing break?” Juno asked in a saccharine tone. Not waiting for an answer, she exclaimed. “Now get back to work! We just got a bus load of casino gamblers who are probably going to fight with the football players and do who knows what. And no word of what you saw here to the others, understand?”

"Yes, ma'am." Teresa nodded as she held herself while trying to look as professional as possible. She strutted to the door, but stopped just as she was about to enter. She turned her head to look back at Beetlejuice who tried not to make eye contact with her. With a sympathetic frown, she gave a slight wave and made her exit, the door shutting behind her. Beetlejuice looked to the door and sighed, only to yelp when his handcuffs tugged him forward.

“Come on, Lawrence. Satan’s waiting for you.” Juno ordered, walking ahead past her son. She beckoned her finger and the handcuffs tugged again, forcing Beetlejuice to follow her. They went down the hallway and entered the last room which was filled to the brim with demons and imps like a courtroom. Most of them were either involved with recent events or were nearby. There were conversations between their groups until the Shoggoths entered the room, causing the room to become silent.

Juno took Beetlejuice to the front of the stand where the Cardinal Council sat in tall podiums waiting for him. The Cardinal Council consisted of powerful demons who embodied the seven main cardinal sins known to humans. Belphegor of Sloth was dozing off in his seat. Leviathan of Envy was writing a few notes to themselves. Asmodeus of Lust brushed his pink long locks with a comb and some help with a breeze he summoned. Mammon of Greed fidgeted with his coins like always. Beelzebub of Gluttony managed a subtle wave to the dead-born. Last but not least, Lucifer stood at the tallest podium. Despite popular belief, he had the honor of having both Pride and Wrath in his repertoire. Nothing changed about him except that he had more fur and goat features at the moment. Beetlejuice took his place in front of the council, but felt the force from his mother staying with him. Once everyone was accounted for, Lucifer cleared his throat and drummed his claws on the podium.

“Out of all the dead-borns we have in Hell and all over, you have got to be the most stubborn pain in the ass I ever met.” He started, glaring down at the dead-born.

"Lucy, hey! How ya doin'? Your horns look extra-curly today." Beetlejuice casually greeted with a wink.

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Lawrence." The goat demon deadpanned. Beetlejuice felt his handcuffs tugging him back and he glanced to see his mother's disapproving frown. Swallowing the negativity for now, he returned his attention to the one in charge.

"C'mon, Lucifer. Let's talk demon to demon, huh? Sure, I snuck down here to hang out with one of the most powerful demons in Hell and destroyed a few things, but what demon hasn't?" The ghost with the most laughed and shrugged. "Besides, it's not like the first few times I messed up here."

“Oh, where do I begin with that?” Lucifer asked in a sardonic tone before he pulled out a large scroll from behind his back and unraveled it. The paper dropped on the ground and continued to roll onto the ground, stretching out of the room and seeming to continue rolling. Yellow strands of hair started to appear on Beetlejuice’s head.

“Surely, you must be exaggerating!” An imp who stood below the podium exclaimed in disbelief, leaning over to read the long scroll.

“This is Beetlejuice we’re talking about. Am I? Let’s read a few random ones, shall we?” The ruler of Hell took out a pair of eyeglasses and placed them on before skimming to a random spot on the list. “There was the time that he and another dead-born managed to freeze all of Hell for a while because, and I quote, ‘We need to have a snow day’.”

"We really needed one!" Beetlejuice shot back in defense. "I've seen breathers enjoy those all the time and Mint owed me one!"

Lucifer chose not to answer as he continued, "You let all the hellhounds loose and insisted that Cerberus should go on a 'play-date'."

"Hey, what Spot and I have is something special! They and Sandy would get along great eating souls and all."

"They are MY pet!"

"Eh... you say 'pet', I say 'furry and fun three-headed acquaintance'."

"And let's not forget the 'food' incident when you somehow managed to make the Netherworld smell like coconut, Hell smell like guacamole, and nearly consumed a hundred souls assigned to a specific place in Hell!" Nearly every demonic being in the room shuddered at the memory.

At the last offense, Beetlejuice shuddered as he nodded in agreement. "Okay, now that was a mistake I will never do again. The last time I would ever make anything in the Lust district. We'll leave it at that! No offense, Azzy."

"None taken." Asmodeus muttered from his seat, not knowing whether to bleach the memory from his brain or keep it.

"The point is you've been causing trouble both here and the Netherworld for centuries despite your curse and I'm at my limit for the last time!" Lucifer sneered, rolling the scroll of crimes back up and making it disappear.

The demons, imps, and four members of the Cardinal Council talked amongst themselves. No doubt they were talking about Beetlejuice and how annoying he was. Beelzebub raised his hand.

"Hey, Satan. It was my idea in the first place. B-Juice was just going along with it. Can't we just lock him outta Hell for a while and curse me instead?" The demon of Gluttony offered. The demon of Pride and Wrath glared at him.

"Oh look at you, trying to act all noble!" Lucifer's voice went up a pitch as he clasped his hands in mockery before he dropped the act and adjusted his glasses with a frown, earning a glare from Bee. "Don't play cute with me. He'll just somehow come here and you two will cause mayhem again!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Juno commented drily. The mutters and clamor resumed until Lucifer smacked the side of the podium with his tail hard, causing the room to be silent.  

"What we need is a more... proper punishment. A curse that'll make sure you get the message through that thick skull of yours." With a wave of his wrist, a hefty folder of papers stamped with Beetlejuice's name on it appeared on the podium. Lucifer then started skimming through the file. This continued for a minute or two until his eyes widened at a particular page. He glanced at the dead-born.

"You're obsessed with humans, right? I believe you call them breathers in the Netherworld. You and Bee have that much in common."

No one said a word. Beelzebub averted his gaze from everyone, sinking into his seat as he wanted to be anywhere but there. Juno blew a smoke ring, keeping her thoughts to herself. Beetlejuice continued to glare at the ruler of Hell from his position. Lucifer placed down the stack of papers and took off his eyeglasses to stare at the other. He was silent for a moment until he gave a slight smirk.

"Since you like breathers so much, I should give you what you want. It is what you deserve, after all." He rubbed his claws against his chest before he pointed one at the dead-born. "Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth, you are still banished to the world of the living and cannot say your true name, but I'm adding a few details so you'll stay put. The first one? I'm sealing you to the one item that'll be your downfall."

Lucifer snapped his fingers and a flame burst up from the ground, forming a specific shape. When Beetlejuice noticed what the shape was, he paled.

"No... Not that. Anything but that!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, yes that. Congratulations, you're going to be... LITERATURE!" The flames died down and a large book with a black cover floated in the air. Upon seeing it, Beetlejuice dropped to his knees and screamed dramatically.

"But I can't spell! You maniac!"

"And that's not all! You will be sealed inside this book for all eternity unless you can bond with a living person. It could be any type of bond as long as it's genuine and strong. I'll add some more rules for you to read at your leisure. Until then, only a breather who can read your book could set you free and we all know the chances of that happening!" Lucifer laughed, causing everyone to join him. He then turned to Juno, raising an eyebrow. "This curse alright with you, Juno?"

"Beetlejuice becoming the very thing he destroys? Now that's something I would like to see." The director of Netherworld Customs almost grinned at that. Her son stared at the ground, the purple on his body and hair getting deeper. Seeing that Juno had no complaints, Lucifer then addressed everyone else.

"All those in favor of turning Betelgeuse into a book and throwing him out, say 'Eye'."

"Eye!" Everyone in the room except Beetlejuice and Beelzebub raised their hands, some of the demons even held up their own eyeballs. Lucifer took a quick scan and grinned.

"It's settled. Majority rules. Time to go. Bye, Bug-Beverage!" With a sadistic glint in his eye, the demon ruler snapped his fingers. The large book floated in the air and opened itself, its pages flipping and glowing until it stopped at the center of the book. Once it stopped, a swirling vortex appeared on both pages, acting as a powerful wind current as chains shot out from the book and connected with the ghost's handcuffs to pull him in. Beetlejuice panicked.

"No, wait! I'll behave, I promise! Not this, anything but this! Satan, the things I do ta get a different beginning from the original source material!" Beetlejuice cursed as he gripped at the ground to hold himself from the wind current and chains pulling at him.. It only increased the suction, causing some demons and imps to brace themselves.

His claws dug deep onto the floor as he was dragged by his chains towards the book. Gritting his fangs, Beetlejuice reached out to Beelzebub and cried out, "Tell my story!" Before the gluttony demon could respond, the ghost with the most was sucked into the book and it slammed itself shut.

Everyone in the room applauded and let out a sigh of relief. With a deadpan expression on his face, Beelzebub got up from his seat.

"Well... that was fun." Bee yawned and rolled his eyes, pointing to the other side of the room. "I'm out!"

"Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast!" Satan crooned and grabbed the orange-haired demon by the shirt collar to stop his escape. "I haven't forgotten about you nor my original plan. Just need to put the finishing touches..."

Without any explanation, Lucifer pulled Beelzebub's arm towards his face and bit at the other's thumb, causing the latter to scream. He then slammed Beelzebub's left hand onto the book. Black blood seeped from the thumb and spread onto the entire book, glowing orange upon contact. When he felt that there was enough, Lucifer took off Bee's hand and waved over the book, causing the glow to fade. With that, the seals were complete.

Having watched everything, Juno stared at the book her son was in, her face expressionless. She then took a drag of her cigarette and glanced away, almost relieved. "Let the living deal with him now."

"Where should we drop 'im, boss?" An imp asked as it hopped next to Lucifer, ready to complete the deed once and for all.

"The one place rarely anyone would find it so easy." The ruler of Hell replied after a bit of thought. "A place no one would ever expect such a powerful book to be!"

Late at night on the surface where the living dwelled, a red portal opened up above the sleepy town of Winter River, Connecticut. The black book fell out from the portal, its blank pages fluttering with the air as the portal immediately closed back up. The book continued to fall until it reached above an old tall house on a hill, going through the roof and landing right inside the attic of the house where it waited for someone, anyone worthy, to open and read it.

#snjstories #snjwrites #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice the Musical #AU #Giant #Tiny #G/T #Juno #Beelzebub #Lucifer #OC #Beetlejuice Big Bang #Miss Argentina #cw: abuse #cw: smoking #On The Edge of Living

[darkling-er]

In Another Lifetime || a far cry 5 story

Summary: another chance to fight the Seeds or to leave well enough alone.

Note: I haven't written for far cry in a long time, also I'm from phone so sorry I don't know how to add a keep reading break to this .-.

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Montana. Big sky country, the treasure state. People got a lot of names for it. I just call it home. Lived here my whole life, still amazing how beautiful it is. Maybe that's what blinded us of how ugly the people were getting...

The cult crawled it's way into the county before we knew it. They were friendly at first, until things changed rapidly. Some people blamed me. I blamed me for a while as well. Things really got bad, once we tried to arrest them, the Seeds. It was a war, and no one could stop it. Not that either the Resistance or the Project tried. We were no different from one another. At first I believed we were in the right, part of me still does. But after all the murders, people dying out there to win this fucking thing. I realized it was no matter, who won, if so many lost their lives along the way. I wished things were different, if maybe we could change things, a peace treaty. But it was too late for that. After killing the Seeds and confronting Joseph, I knew it was too late for both of us to turn back. He had my friends... And yet he still gave me a choice.

What a choice it was. I turned around like a coward, took the sheriff, took Pratt and Hudson - though she wanted to fight - and we left them all behind. Until Whitehorse turned on the radio I thought we were free of this insanity. But he just HAD to turn the god damn radio on. Even if Jacob was dead, the song still stuck behind, crawling it's way into my mind like a worm, until my nose started bleeding and I looked at the Sheriff with panic. I could hear Pratt's cries as well, only to hear Earl say: "What's wrong?"

Then everything changed. I didn't black out. I didn't turn red and go frenzy. But the world spun around...

When I was just a child, my Uncle and I were traveling at night, I fell asleep in the passenger seat of the moving car. Lulled to dream by the motion and noise of rain on the window. I felt weightless. Then my Uncle lost control over the car, it slipped on the wet concrete, taking a turn too fast. And I woke to see the world spinning outside the car windows, and the sickening sensation of falling at high speed.

That experience comes to mind at first to describe how I felt in the moment. Not the time I fell down with the chopper, or the countless times having a car accident during this war. But that one time, during the rain, with my uncle.

I felt sick, like I was punched in the gut, probably the seat belt I wondered. But I couldn't see straight, until the spinning stopped. It didn't slow down at first, giving me time to adjust. It just suddenly stopped as I fall to the ground with full force. At first I wondered if Pratt pushed me out of the car, afraid of what I would do to them.

But what frightened me more was the silence. No cars passing by, no shoutings from my colleagues. Not even that damned music, which always stuck around in my head after actually hearing it play.

I was laying face down on the ground. My body ached, especially my chest, until I realized I wasn't breathing. I took the air in my lungs, like I was a drowning person finally coming up to breath.

At first I didn't move, I just took slow breaths in, to calm my nerves down. Grass. I was laying on grass, instead of concrete, like how I thought I would. Crickets were chirping in the distance and I looked up to see the moonlit forest I was laying in the middle of. It reminded me of the night of the arrest, when I was lost in the woods, trying to get rid of the peggies.

It seemed familiar but yet so different then that night. It was too quiet.

My first thought was I killed them. I killed Whitehorse, I killed Pratt and Hudson. And I had another blackout about it. I looked down at my hands but I wasn't covered in blood. I was clean. In fact I was surprised how clean my skin was. Where were the bruises and scars from the time I got during the fights? It was only covered in some grass that I was layed upon just now.

"Hellooooo?" I called out into the night, which only caused some birds to fly away from between the trees.

I don't know who I was expecting to find, peggie or resistance, it didn't matter. I was just afraid. I was afraid for my friends, for my colleagues. For what I might have did.

It's no use standing around, move your ass soldier. I could hear the voice inside my head so I choose a direction and started walking. I almost tripped in the trees' roots a couple of times, until I finally arrived near the road. I wasn't sure which road it was. Probably the one leading out from Joseph's compound to the Henbane, I wondered. I watched out for any broken down cars, thinking maybe I would find Pratt or someone, but I didn't see any. So I decided to walk from the compound towards the valley. It was quite, no guns were fired in the distance or any peggie music playing. Not even planes in the skies. Just some owls and crickets. I found the silence unnerving.

Right until I could hear a car coming on the road. I turned around to see the headlights coming closer and I moved my hand towards my holster. Only to be dumbfounded to see I didn't have my holster. I didn't have my gun on me. I suddenly felt naked without a weapon and means to protect myself and wished for the truck that came closer to not be one of the peggies.

I frowned from the lights as they got closer and I heard the car slow down until it stopped right next to me.

Hope County Sheriff Department, it said. It was one of our cars. The driver pulled the window down and that's when I felt like I was about to faint.

"Are you alright, miss?" the voice asked, which I haven't heard in a long time. Not since... "Miss?" he asked again for my lack of response.

But it was him. It was his voice, and his face, just like I remembered him. My uncle. Only difference, he wasn't dead.

"Are you out here alone?" he asked again, like he didn't even recognise me.

That's when I felt the world spinning again, only I knew this was a familiar feeling. I heard him utter shit, before I could reach the ground and the world to turn to black as I fainted.

---

And now, I'm in here. The old sheriff's department in Fall's End. In the middle of the old interrogation room. Only I shouldn't be, because the building burnt down, couple years ago, thanks to Sharky's shenanigans.

A mug is placed in front of me, filled with tea, but I don't care to drink at the moment. It is all too surreal, me being back at the old place, with my uncle sitting in front of me. He's been asking questions, about my name, about where I came from, what I was doing out there, whether I had anyone to call. I don't... My family died. He died, yet he still talks to me like I am a stranger.

I decided not to answer, or more like couldn't answer from the shock and confusion. One moment I'm in a car, with Jacob fucking Seed's brainwashing song, the next I sit in front of my dead uncle in the burnt down sheriff's department.

After what felt like hours, from the lack of clocks in the room I wasn't sure actually how long he was questioning me, he sighs, scratching his greying beard.

"Look kid. I want to help you. Just talk to me." he says but I still just stare at the mug in front of me and the contents, which is probably cold by now.

He waits, then sighs again, then gets up from the chair. I look at him, startled as he walks to the door. I don't want to lose him again, but it seems like for some reason he won't recognise me and I feel it's better if I don't start bombing him with questions.

Once he leaves me alone in the room I look in the mirror of the interrogation room. I can't believe it still, though when I first entered the room and looked at my reflection I almost fainted again.

I look young. And I don't say that as some shitty self-love quote. I am young. Around my teenage years young. The harder edges of my face disappeared, and the childish look appeared again. The bags under my eyes gone. All those scars? No where to be found.

And now that I'm alone I dare to move the collar of my shirt down a bit. It's gone as well. The tattoo that John scared me with, WRATH, is no where to be found.

That's it. I'm either dead and stuck in a limbo, or somehow, even if it's hard to believe it, I'm back in my seventeen year old body, back in the old Hope County, where my uncle is still alive. Even if he doesn't recognise me.

I wish Alex was here. He would understand or at least try to make sense of all this conspiracy leveled bullshit of an event. Then I wonder. If my uncle is alive... Is Alex alive as well? I don't get my hopes up and before I can wonder about anything further more Whitehorse steps into the room.

He sits down in the chair in front of me, with a paper in his hand. It's a form, ready to be filled. I can't make out what kind from where I'm sitting, but he tells me before I could even ask.

"Listen kid. My colleague asked you a couple of questions. Now I don't recognise your face from around town, nor the county even. You're not on our records. Not even a missing person description that could be you... Without your name of any form of identification I want you to cooperate with me now, alright?" he starts.

He looks young as well. Well, younger then I last saw him. And he doesn't seem to know me either, just like my uncle. Least he's alive and I didn't kill him. I don't say anything still, though, so he continues.

"You were found in the middle of nowhere, with a Hope County Sheriff's Department jacket on you." he points at me, still wearing the clothing, which I absolutely forgot about. It's only natural I wore it for months, but now, being a stranger to them it must be confusing how and why I'm wearing this piece of clothing.

"You have no ID cards on you. No cellphone... If you won't give me anything kid, I have to call Child Services. Chances are you escaped from your family? Ran away from home? Maybe an adoptive family... Or worst case scenario juvie."

He starts listing and I want to argue that in no case a 24 year old woman needs child services, but then I remember how I look like again, so I stay silent.

He looks at me, then at the paper in front of him, then starts to get up.

"Fine..."

"Wait!" I stop him, not prepared with a speach or any kind of defence. He looks at me, then sits back down, waiting for me to continue. But I can't. If he doesn't recognises me, and neither can my uncle. Chances are... I'm not in the system. And if I'm not in the system that means whatever name I give him, he knows I'm lying.

"Yes?" he asks, expecting for me to say something.

I am known to talk before I think, and the next sentence I say is a great example of that.

"Call Alex Gallner." Earl raises an eyebrow at that.

"Alex Gallner? You friends with him?" he asks, knowing about the young boy, who usually gets in trouble for things like recording videos in the middle of church, and disturbing locals with his theories and questions.

I nod. "He's my cousin. I'm staying with him and my uncle during the summer. I'm not used to the rural life and to be honest I got lost trying to go home."

"And you only mentions this now because..?" he asks, not believing my story.

I smile and try to act like I'm telling the truth.

"I got scared. I'm sorry... This room is getting on my nerves. Feels like I'm some kind of criminal or something for getting lost."

I laugh nervously.

"You fainted." he tries to argue.

I nod again.

"Yeah, I'm on a new diet. Trying to lose weight... I didn't eat much today, then walking around at night, trying to find home. I guess my sugar was low?" I was never good at lying, but I am trying my hardest to sell my story to him.

"And the jacket?" he asks again.

Well, shit...

"Alex gave it to me. I thought it looked cool. He said he found it near the ranch. Wanted to return it, of course, I just borrowed it while going for a walk, you know. Cause it's cold outside."

He looks at me and I feel like he can see right through my lie.

"Didn't know Andrew had a sibling..."

Of course he doesn't.

"Well, he and my parents aren't close anymore. But I tried to contact him and Alex. So it's my first time visiting."

He nods, and looks like he still doesn't buy my story.

"We should call them, then. They are probably worried sick about you."

I shake my head.

"I don't know. I'm probably in trouble already, I don't want to give them the bad impression. If the Sheriff calls them they might send me home." I try to plead, and not look guilty at the same time, so I add. "I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble, Sir."

"I understand. But I have to follow the procedure, I'm sure you understand."

I'm so screwed.

"Yupp, it's fine. Just tell Alex I found the hiding spot for Mr. Caramel."

Earl gives me a weird look, then I make a gesture. "He'll understand."

I don't think he will. Chances are Alex doesn't know me just as much as anyone else here. Then they will call Child Services and I'm screwed. I have to figure a way out of escaping. A way to solve this whole thing. My uncle, me being young, the Seeds... The Seeds, after 4 months I actually forgot about the Seeds.

Earl leaves the room and I feel the urge to throw up from the anxiety. But after a couple of minutes he returns to the room. He seems troubled and I can almost picture the orphanage already, but then he says.

"Alex will pick you up soon. He says his dad is out of town, but you probably know that." I nod along like I do, but I absolutely don't. "I will take the jacket back, but you can go. And for god's sake next time start with that... And eat something."

He says with a friendly smile and leads me out of the room. I give him back my jacket, and I follow him outside of the station to wait for the car. Now the next thing I have to figure out, is a way to tell Alex all about this. The code word worked. He promised me to memorise Mr. Caramel in cases of emergencies. I just didn't think he would get it in a world, where I don't seem to exist.

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Tag: @onl-you

#kaydee miller #Far cry 5 story #Oc story

[violetsystems]

#personal

For once I’m not terribly moody although I did wake up pretty early.  My mom called last night presumably while I fell asleep watching the Road Warrior.  I also watched Alien Covenant for the first time yesterday all the way through.  I’ve been living all this time thinking they never patched the plot holes together from Prometheus.  Lots of DNA porn in that.  If there is such a thing.  I’m sure everyone has seen it by now so I’m not spoiling anything.  But the bomb dropping on an alien planet in the form of a chain of nucleotides is kind of raw.  Bleached blond android reminiscent of 1940′s Germany though still undoubtably referencing Lawrence of Arabia.   It reminds me of an avalanche moreover the effect of how snow particles reorganize themselves.  This effect is called the Catherine Wheel and forms together when smaller particles shift together between bigger mass movements.  I love that quote from Stone Island somewhere back in 2008.  A purple jacket with embroidery talking about snowflake responsibility when it all comes tumbling down.  Life lately seems to be a nonstop seesaw of hope and fear.  I’ve been kind of stuck in a holding pattern with everything.  One of the biggest roadblocks was a vaccine.  I took the train earlier in the week one block to Bulls Stadium.  I live that close.  In about twenty minutes I was all patched up with the latest update.  It’s 2021 mind you.  I’m still recovering from a mortal wound back last July.  I was in New York that February at the heat of it.  The simple fact that I’ve stayed alive is a triumph to me.  But after a full five days after being vaccinated there are no real side effects to talk about.  I read somewhere someone who wrote at length how the side effect they felt was guilt.  That somehow they didn’t deserve this when the rest of the world is suffering.  That narrative is problematic at the moment for me.  The sticker I received after getting poked in the arm helped me understand it better.  Protect Chicago.  When the military nurse injected me I replied that I was thankful for their help.  They replied it was the other way around.  Getting vaccinated is certainly the healthy thing you can do if you can get it.  It’s also rather understandable to feel confused as to which one to get.  I do feel lucky to be able to experience a platform that is the start of something new for medical science.  MRNA is about as real as it gets.  There is no live virus.  It is more a set of instructions.  I was eligible because I live in a high risk zip code.  The dosages for Chicago were made available federally.  So I don’t feel so much as guilt really after what I’ve been through.  However it all worked out in the end doesn’t honor or dignify all that was sacrificed in the process.  The virus to me was an exogenous shock to the system here in America.  And it was ongoing.  It trapped me.  It trapped us all really.  And the light at the end of the tunnel couldn’t start until the shot was in my arm.  It’s too bad the tunnel pretty much collapsed behind me.  But things reorder themselves after a disaster.  Gravity pulls everything back to earth.  My mom’s call was to inform me her new neighbors knocked on the door.  Her old neighbor died.  A terribly awful lady who yelled at my mom anytime she stepped into her backyard.  My mom suspects her new neighbors are from Jamaica.  She loves Jamaica.  We went there one summer when I was little.  She loved embarrassing me dancing to live music.  I love the clear ocean water and being solicited on the street with huge garbage bags of weed.  I was twelve back then.  I thought it was salad.  Either way I mentioned to her not to assume anything from an accent.  She’s going to go to Home Depot and buy them a plant to show them some love.

As far as neighbors go, we’ve had a little turnover in my building.  According to my landlord, it’s a full house.  My mom lives just outside the city on the border.  I live near the Heart of Chicago in an area called the Lower West Side.  West side and south side are night and day.  People from the South Side wear their White Sox hats like they’re part of a shock troop invasion sometimes.  People on the west side don’t give a fuck.  Dance Mania records originated in the Lawndale neighborhood far west.  Most of the Teklife footwork culture started further south near 95th and the Dan Ryan.  My mom lives a bus ride away from the old Battlegrounds spot.  But Chicago is by definition safer when you understand we live block by block.  DJ Deeon said it best.  Block business.  Every street has it’s own culture and lore.  It gets harder to parse as the years go by mostly because things get more diverse.  Narratives get buried.  People get it twisted.  And you never know whose toes you are stepping on.  People are always trying to get a read on you.  Maybe pigeonhole you into a social group so they can worry less.  I’ve had people tell me they get nervous when they couldn’t keep tabs on me.  I’ve never been one to hold myself back from exploring.  I’ve wandered back and forth to Korea, Japan and China by myself.  The last year and a half has been sort of torture for me.  I’ve felt trapped and in limbo.  Much less the last few weeks.  There’s always little signs that things are getting better around you.  Or at least signs that people understand your context and what it is that makes you happy.  There’s also always people out there that think they know you better.  Chicago can be up in your face at times.  Accusatory.  It doesn’t like lone wolves unless it can corral them together in a pen.  There’s always an agenda here.  Much like anywhere.  But in Chicago, it moves slower.  Gentrification to me here has always been a sweeping motion.  People come in that you don’t know and claim to be neighbors.  They set up camp in your sacred spaces and you assume there’s some sort of mutual understanding.  Community can be somewhat pushy when it comes to sharing power.  Nobody has ever really ever asked me anything.  It’s always statements or projections.  I can explain this by how many times people have asked or said my name in the last year.  It’s painfully low.  People aren’t polite.  They are balancing huge weights on their shoulders.  I get that nobody has time for me.  Living in a city like Chicago is facetime every time you walk out the door.  But there’s times when people would rather just be rid of you than have to settle up.  And there’s enough intimidation out here that goes hand in hand with gentrification.  If you resist you obviously have some problem.  And when you do, you are asking for more trouble.  And yet after awhile standing your ground in Chicago is a lot like being a stick in the mud.  There’s a point when people give up trying to push an immovable object.  They just build around the foundation of it.  And in some ways having a history of being both exceptionally mobile and classically predictable is a good thing.  Of all the things I could have worried about the last nine months it was having a place to live and shelter in place.  It isn’t like I have to go very far for real culture.  I don’t own a car.  The train is literally out my kitchen window.  I can walk to Chinatown.  I get Korean stew every Sunday.  The faces I see every day are not exclusively Caucasian although the intimidation I feel is primarily from White people.  I stumbled the other day when the operator on the vaccine line asked my race.  I said white at first but white isn’t a race.  It isn’t even a culture.  I’m half Swedish, a little German and Croatian.  I don’t see anybody sitting home on a Saturday night watching Anthony Hopkins as Hrothgar to celebrate their heritage around here with me.  I do see a bunch of generic white people fearful that I’m something they can’t control.  Welcome to America I guess.  

I have family all over the world.  A cousin who lives in Hong Kong who I’ve reached out to again but has gone silent.  Another cousin from Africa I’ve never met who shares the same name as me but not the same color of skin.  These little details are lost amongst a sea of paranoia, disinformation and pranks.  I write the same shit here every weekend like a faq on Usenet.  Frequently asked questions about our friend we’ve known for years but can’t trust.  Things better left unsaid or skimmed over.  Most of being confident in this age is realizing when you are not the problem.  Everybody is looking for someone to blame.  And everybody is talking on the internet.  Everybody wants to win their argument in a cage match to an audience of influencers around the globe.  There are real people in every situation suffering in complex ways that you size up on your forums.  Everyone is a private detective.  Everybody plays CSI.  Everybody got the latest dirt on the tiniest speck of dust in the wind.  And everything is twisted to fit a larger agenda and narrative that becomes impossibly complex until it collapses.  We all get lost in the Avalanche.  Failures and fuckups get lost in an alternate reality game of ABC’s and P’s and Q’s.  Trying to juggle and wiggle through these busy bodies that don’t give a fuck about us.  Trying to argue with a brick wall that will soon shift and crumble.  And we all feel completely small in the process.  A little snowflake.  All by itself.  Resorted by the tides of the moon with each passing invisible wave of gravity and physics.  The entropy of things that what we build can fall apart eventually.  How long that happens is determined by the bonds we keep.  Whether it’s worth it in the long run.  And I worry less these days about what isn’t working and more about what keeps me together.  Where I land within all of this.  I’ve felt alone and not so much over the last year or so.  I long for physical connection just like anybody else.  But without the right foundation it’s damn near impossible to connect it all together.  Sometimes when the avalanche comes, it’s better to roll with the punches and see how it all sorts out.  And there are plenty of seismic rifts happening in the world today acting upon by any number of exogenous shocks.  The virus being one of them.  When it’s lifted, the problems we had before all of this are still there.  And the tunnel to the past has all but been demolished.  Where do you go forward in the light?  Maybe you just take a rest.  Maybe you wait for people to recover their sense of balance and direction.  After that kind of disaster you definitely don’t make any sudden movements.  I’ve thought about travelling again this summer.  This idea of revenge travel is ridiculous to me and slightly toxic.  If everybody is filled with bloodlust, I’d rather just relax at home until it’s my time to shine.  I’ve been to New York so many times already and nobody ever wants to hang out.  And for once in my life all the signposts point back to here at least when it comes to sanctuary.  Everybody in the world is looking for Sanctuary.  Everybody in the world wants peace.  And yet not everyone in the world wants to see eye to eye and share this planet together.  Not everyone wants to put their ego aside and respect the dignity and horror of being alive.  And subsequently many people have an internalized guilt over this.  They romanticize it.  They deflect and project it back onto you.  They gaslight and pretend you are invisible.  They create false narratives to help them sleep at night when their nerves are on fire from consumption, greed, and guilt.  And the bullshit ultimately floats to the surface of this toilet we call life.  My life at times in the last nine months feels like it was flushed down the toilet.  Like some well meaning android dropped a bomb of toxic shit on my entire game plan.  I’m resilient enough to live through it.  I’m smart enough not to consider revenge.  I’ll be more comfortable with that statement after I get my second shot.  Until then I’m not making any sudden moves.  Or any controversial statements other than I still love you. <3 Tim