Invasion: Circe's Bedside Manner Could Use Some Work (Part Three Of Three)

Invasion: Circe's Bedside Manner Could Use Some Work (Part three of three)

The sound of the Tombstone of Life and Death being abused booms in the distance. Teen!me seems to have thought this an adequate end for the fic. Adult!me knows otherwise.

Part one is here. Part two is here.

Content Warning: Rape/noncon mention and aftermath; character assassination of Buzz Grunt; mpreg and hermaphroditism being normal for Sims; depiction of the Beaker household as not being a den of unethical experimentation; Loki and Nervous are apparently adoptive brothers in this; Loki has feelings about his parentage; pretty sure Circe convincing Loki to keep the rape baby was a bad idea; attempt at depicting trauma responses; giving Vidcund a past anorexia issue sure was a choice that I made

-O-o-O-o-O-

Pascal absentmindedly stirred the chili for lunch. It was looking a little black on the edges, but that was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment.

“Nervous seemed rather irritable today. If there’s something on his mind, why doesn’t he just tell me what it is?”

Pascal was brought back to reality by the smell of burning food. He looked down. “Just perfect.”

His brothers didn’t seem to mind. Lazlo still shoveled the charred food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Slow down; you’ll choke,” Pascal deadpanned. Manners were lost on that boy.

Vidcund only picked at his food, but not because it was burnt. He’d been awfully quiet since the night before and he hadn’t said a word since lunch was served.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Lazlo asked.

“Not particularly,” Vidcund responded, scraping his spoon across the blackened mess.

“Vidcund, you skipped breakfast. You need to eat sometime,” Pascal prodded, not sure if the lack of cooking skill or something else killed Vidcund’s appetite.

Vidcund absently scooped up a spoonful of chili and ate it. Pascal stared, incredulous, while Lazlo looked amused.

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s burnt?”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

Eventually Vidcund did notice it was burnt and both he and Pascal had to excuse themselves, leaving Lazlo to dig into the leftovers.

Pascal pulled Vidcund into their plant room. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Vidcund’s voice sounded miles away.

“You’re spacey, quiet, and lacking an appetite,” Pascal noted. “You’re not starving yourself again, are you?”

“No.” This time, Vidcund’s voice was in Pascal’s face and firm. He didn’t like to be reminded of his short bout of anorexia.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Vidcund looked at the floor.

“Nervous won’t tell me what’s bothering him, you won’t tell me why you’re upset. How am I supposed to do my oldest brother job of fixing everything if I don’t know what’s going on?”

“I don’t think this can be fixed, Pascal,” Vidcund answered quietly.

“But I can at least try to make you feel better.”

Vidcund sighed. “Last night, I was looking at the stars. I wasn’t trying to look at what other people were doing, really, but I made a mistake in re-angling the telescope and I could see into this alleyway, and….” He trailed off.

“What did you see?” Pascal prompted.

Vidcund wouldn’t look at Pascal as he continued. “Buzz was standing over Loki, and….and Loki was tied up with his pants pulled down. Buzz was over him with his pants down….”

Pascal was speechless. “This must’ve been what Nervous was so upset about. I’m not too fond of Loki, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve that.”

“I want to tell the police, but what if Loki doesn’t want anyone to know? Even if I did tell them, Buzz would get basically a slap on the wrist and that’s it. Plus, he’d come after Loki and Nervous, and maybe even us.”

Pascal had barely regained his speech. So all he said was, “Why don’t we talk more later?”

Vidcund had no choice but to agree.

-O-o-O-

Circe was cooking dinner. Like, Pascal, she was preoccupied, but not so much that she burned the food. Usually Loki would cook, but he deserved a break, especially after what just happened.

Loki scrubbed away at the shower tiles. He’d been cleaning all evening and he barely noticed when it began to get dark. He didn’t care. Just as long as it helped him forget the encounter with Buzz, he didn’t care how long he took. The rhythmic squeak of the sponge on the tiles was the only thing keeping Loki from collapsing into tears.

He was always too busy to clean. In actuality, Loki loved cleaning. But now it seemed as thought cleaning was relegated to the “only for comfort” category. Considering how behind he was on it, he’d have a lot of comfort.

“As long as I keep busy,” Loki thought, “I’ll be fine. It worked for my father’s death; it’ll work now.”

He was so lost in thought, he barely heard Circe calling him for dinner.

Circe was setting the bowls of chili on the table when Loki came in. At first, she was glad that he seemed less distressed, but he didn’t seem much better than he’d been that afternoon. When she really thought about it, he seemed worse. It didn’t help that he was even paler than usual.

Loki wandered into the kitchen, his mind on autopilot. He wasn’t that hungry—actually, he’d felt a slight twinge of nausea earlier. But he had to eat, and Circe had actually cooked. She could’ve just ordered out.

Loki managed to whisper a thanks to Circe before they both sat down to eat. Nervous wouldn’t be joining them; he’d gotten dinner earlier then retired to his room for the night.

The meal began, but they hardly ate. Circe nibbled on hers, realizing she’d forgotten the chili powder. Though, judging by Loki’s interactions with his food, that was probably a good thing.

Loki was only picking at his food. Circe figured he must not be very hungry, what with all that had gone on. But then, the little color left in Loki’s face drained away and he ran from the room, covering his mouth.

She found him in the downstairs bathroom, wiping his mouth with toilet paper.

“Was it that bad?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Loki leaned his head on the toilet. “It was fine, Circe. I’m just not feeling very well right now. It’s probably just from breathing in those cleaning chemicals for so long.”

Circe sighed. This was really not Loki’s week, was it. “Okay, but you have to eat something. I think there are crackers in the pantry—”

Loki scrambled to lift the lid and threw up into the toilet again.

“Or I could just not talk about food anymore.”

Loki wiped his mouth. “I’m not really very hungry, anyway. I probably just need to get some sleep. I’m sure I’ll be better in the morning.”

-O-o-O-

That night, the Beakers slept a lot better, having figured out how to keep Loki from screaming himself awake. Circe and Loki lay cuddled up to each other, Circe, relieved that Loki wasn’t afraid of her touching him, and Loki, hoping that this was a sign of him beginning to heal.

Morning found Circe alone in bed, the covers on Loki’s side tossed haphazardly to the side.

A quiet sniffle from the master bathroom informed her of his whereabouts. She found Loki poised over the toilet, throwing up. She knelt next to him while he wiped his mouth.

“So I was wrong last night,” Loki said quietly, flushing the toilet.

“Maybe you should stay away from those cleaning products today,” Circe suggested. “Although, I’ve never seen anyone get sick from being around those particular cleaning products for too long unless there were huffing them.”

“They don’t even have ammonia in them.”

Circe thought for a minute. “Come to think of it,” she said quietly, “ I don’t think it’s the cleaning products that are making you sick.”

Loki remained silent. His eyes slowly met Circe’s, then both pairs wandered to the medicine cabinet where the box of pregnancy tests were kept.

“You don’t think…” Loki trailed off.

“I’ve seen the symptoms before. It wouldn’t hurt to try it.”

So Circe averted her gaze while Loki peed on the plastic stick. Then they waited for the results. One line meant negative, two lines meant positive.

There was much twiddling of thumbs and nervous shifting as the two waited the obligatory two minutes for the results. Finally, at the end of the two minutes, they looked at the result window and saw two blue lines.

Circe ran her hand through her red hair. “Okay….Let’s not panic. This isn’t the end of the world.”

Loki hid his face in his arms. “I cannot believe I’m pregnant by him.”

“Maybe it’s a false positive,” Circe said. “These tests aren’t always accurate, unless they’re those new Tombstone brand ones. Let me see the box.”

Circe picked up the box from where it had been casually tossed under the toilet and examined it. Sure enough, the cartoon of the Grim Reaper stating “Dead right!” was printed on the side, along with the tombstone logo. She let out a breath. “So it is true. Well….You still have a few options.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You haven’t even heard—”

“I don’t care. I don’t want it.”

“You’ve always said you wanted a child.”

“Not like this! This wouldn’t be our child; it’d be Buzz’s and my child.” Loki got up to go to the bedroom.

“We could raise it as ours.”

Loki turned to face Circe. “What do you think the kid’s going to think when he realizes he looks nothing like you? He’s going to ask us who his real parents are and we’re going to have to tell him that the only reason he’s here is because I got raped!”

Circe was silent. Loki didn’t yell like this often.

“Do you know what it’s like to know that you were an accident?” Loki continued much more quietly.

“Loki, your mother was drunk when she told you that. It means nothing.”

“She may have been drunk, but it’s true. I did the math. She and my father married just a mere five months before I was born. No one in their right mind plans to get that far along before they get married. My father was the one who got pregnant and he couldn’t abort me, so he and my mother had to get married.” Loki sniffed. “I would never want my child to have any reason to even suspect such a thing.”

Circe slowly approached Loki. “But there’s something you haven’t factored in.”

“What?”

“We would never act as though we didn’t want the child. Your father kept it together, but your mother…From what you’ve told me, she wasn’t that nice to you. Add the fact that she drank a lot and you’ve got a formula for trouble. But you’re not your mother, Loki.” Circe put her arms around Loki. “I’m not saying you should keep the baby if you don’t want it. I’m saying that if you do, you won’t mess it up.”

Loki thought for a while, staring at the ground. “In any other situation, I would abort it….But we’ve wanted a child since the second year of our marriage. And it’s not just Buzz’s child; it’s mine, too. And it will be yours as well.”

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: If your husband (or wife) gets raped by the neighborhood alien-hating bully, just let him have the abortion.

"Down With the Blank Space" (a Disturbed/Taylor Swift mashup) would be the perfect soundtrack to a fic where Pinky is slowly becoming Dark Pinky after having met up with Snowball and the two of them start a very toxic romantic relationship.

I was reading some of the old Animaniacs comics and man did they turn the "English" dial up on Pinky

i love you English Rose Pinky

Brotherly Love: A Taboo Animaniacs Fanfic (Part One of Seven)

I warned you this was coming (check the tags). I told you, dog.

I was an older teenager when I wrote this. I'm pretty sure I had started college at the time. Somebody shared a dorm room with me while I was writing this nonsense. Possibly, they were writing similar nonsense; I went to a weird college.

Readers of my other account (that I haven't yet connected to this one) might recognize that I tried to rework this into a James/Meowth fic (but didn't get very far). Apparently, mapping Meowth, James, and Jessie onto Yakko, Wakko, and Dot might not work as well as I had previously thought.

Anyway, DEAD GOODFEATHERS: DO NOT EAT

Content Warning: Consensual romantic relationship between two siblings (just because I wrote about it in a story doesn't mean I'd do it; I have a sibling and I would never get bizzay with them); aged-up characters; terrible attempt at writing Scratchansniff's accent out phonetically; exhibitionism; questionable knowledge of psychology; big emotions, including: *extremely Gonzo voice* GUILT and *extremely Septa Unella voice* SHAME SHAME SHAME (ding ding); Yakko angst

-O-o-O-o-O-

All was quiet over Burbank that Thursday night. Yakko Warner sat on the balcony of the Warner Brothers Studio water tower, gazing over the city lights.

His two younger siblings, Wakko and Dot, were worn out from that day’s antics and were soundly sleeping in the bedroom the three shared. They hadn’t even stirred when Yakko closed the door of the water tower. Yakko should have been tired too, considering he wreaked just as much havoc as his siblings, but he had a lot on his mind.

Lately, he’d been having these “feelings.” They were similar to the ones he got when he looked at Hello Nurse, but more intense. Hello Nurse was pleasing to the eye—very—but that was it. He merely liked looking at her, not….doing things with her, like what he wanted to do with the object of these “feelings.”

The Warners didn’t age, being toons, but Yakko figured he should still have gone through puberty by now. He didn’t know much about this subject, having driven Ms. Flamiel off before she could teach them Health, but nevertheless, he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be having feelings for the person that he did.

A cold breeze chilled Yakko’s skin through his fur. He decided it was time to go back inside.

Before turning in, he decided to check on his siblings. Dot, on the bunk just above Yakko’s slept relatively quietly, occasionally muttering about how cute she was. Actually, Dot did look pretty cute when she was sleeping—a trait not many people possessed. And Yakko certainly didn’t expect the object of his affections to possess this trait, considering how gross he acted in his waking hours.

Yakko easily scaled the top bunk to gaze upon the object of his affection. His little brother, Wakko, lay curled up, pillow’s edge in his mouth, half-covered by the blanket.

Watching his brother sleep so innocently only forced the most dirty thoughts into Yakko’s mind. Hastily, he tried to expel them. “This is my baby brother! How could I ever think of doing those things to him?”

Looking shamefully down at Wakko, Yakko decided it was time for another cold shower.

-O-o-O-

For once in his life, Yakko was the last Warner sibling to wake up. Usually that honor fell to Wakko, but Yakko hadn’t exactly fallen asleep right after he went back to bed.

See, Yakko liked to talk. He talked almost every second of the day, to the point where Dr. Scratchinsniff threatened to duct tape his mouth shut. He even talked in his sleep, especially when something was bothering him. If Dot or Wakko had heard him, well….he didn’t want to think about it.

So one can imagine Yakko’s sheer horror when he woke up to Wakko, sitting by his bed, staring at him.

“Wakko, what are you doing?” Yakko shrieked, sitting straight up in bed.

“Watchin’ you,” Wakko answered calmly.

When Yakko realized that Wakko probably hadn’t heard him talking in his sleep—otherwise he would have been a lot less calm—he calmed down.

“I mean, what are you doing watching me,” Yakko said, more calmly.

Wakko shrugged. “You’re usually the first one up.”

Yakko sighed, relieved. However, Wakko took it as a sigh of exasperation and immediately drooped.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t do it anymore,” he said in a small voice.

Yakko rushed to comfort him. “No, I don’t mind you watching me. Hope you’re enjoying the view.” Yakko flashed a cheesy smile at Wakko. Wakko giggled.

“God, what a cute giggle,” Yakko thought.

“I guess Dot’s already up,” Yakko commented, making the bed.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Wakko answered, throwing off his pajamas. He searched around for his blue sweatshirt.

Yakko turned around to look for his pants and let out a short cry of shock. He was staring directly at Wakko’s naked form. True, Wakko’s back was turned, and he didn’t normally wear pants, but still…. Yakko was fascinated by his brother’s lack of self-awareness sometimes. He suddenly turned away. “Stop gawking at your brother like that!” he mentally scolded himself.

“What happened?” Wakko asked, from under his shirt.

“I just stubbed my toe. I really should move the night table further away from the bed,” Yakko said, his eyes creeping slowly toward Wakko, who was still putting on his shirt and still naked.

At that moment, Dot came out of the bathroom. The minute she walked in the room, she shrieked. “Wakko, put your clothes on!”

Yakko saw a devilish smile come over his brother’s face.

“What if I don’t?” Wakko challenged, lifting his shirt higher over his head.

Yakko, despite his conflicting emotions, turned to the camera, blew a kiss and said, “Goodnight, everybody!”

Dot only rolled her eyes. “Wakko, if you don’t put your clothes on, I’ll be forced to….” She thought for a moment, then grinned menacingly. “I’ll be forced to call in a clown!”

Wakko’s eyes bugged out, then he very quickly slid his shirt onto his body.

Yakko raised an eyebrow. “Darn. I was beginning to enjoy that—WHAT?! NO!” He immediately slapped himself for thinking it. He put on his pants very quickly, hoping to hide the sudden protrusion.

As soon as the siblings finished breakfast, the phone rang. It was Dr. Scratchansniff, asking them to come in for their appointment.

Yakko was too consumed by his thoughts to even notice Hello Nurse, which really surprised Dot. Wakko, who was busy screaming, “Hello, Nurse!” didn’t seem to notice. Yakko felt a tiny pang when he saw his brother’s reaction to the voluptuous blonde. “How could I ever imagine that he’d feel the same way about me as I do about him?” he thought, sulking on the waiting room couch, oblivious to the bemused looks Dot gave him.

Dot gazed at Yakko. He definitely wasn’t himself today. Normally, he’d be talking a mile a minute, planning out exactly how he was going to fracture Scratchansniff’s sanity this week. And if he wasn’t doing that, he’d be happily looking at this month’s (or last year’s, depending on how diligently the magazines were replaced) issue of Toon Times. Today, he just sat there, looking as though he’d just been suckered into a conversation with Pip Pumphandle. Dot wanted to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t want to pry. Besides, she thought, he’ll probably be over it soon and be back to normal.

Dot, who wasn’t interested in any of the magazines, turned to Wakko to find him blowing spit bubbles. “Ew.”

Dot sighed. This was going to be a long wait.

Hello Nurse came out. “Yakko, Dr. Scratchansniff will see you now.”

Yakko dragged himself off the couch and trudged into the office.

-O-o-O-

Dr. Scratchansniff was shielding himself behind his desk, waiting for the inevitable explosion of Yakko entering. Honestly, every time the Warners came within a fifty foot radius of him, insanity and misery were sure to ensue. He couldn’t have one appointment without Yakko making sarcastic comments, Wakko doing something gross, and Dot getting off-topic and leading him on a verbal wild goose chase. A this rate, he was never going to get these kids de-zanitized.

“Vait a minute,” Dr. Scratchansniff thought. Instead of the usual noisy, zany greeting, he was hearing….silence?

The psychiatrist emerged from behind his desk to find Yakko, sitting quietly on the couch in front of him. He didn’t even seem to notice the doctor; he absently traced the wrinkles in the upholstery with his fingers, a pensive expression crossing his visage.

Scratchy had never seen Yakko this quiet. Ever. Even if he wasn’t talking, he’d usually be sitting there, smirking at the trouble that lay in store for the psychiatrist. Yakko didn’t seem to be plotting any kind of chaos; he seemed to be lost in his own world.

Scratchy cleared his throat to get Yakko’s attention. Sure enough, Yakko dragged his eyeballs up to meet Scratchy’s.

“Oh. Hi, Scratchy,” he muttered lethargically, punctuating his speech with a heavy sigh.

“Yakko, you seem to be awfully quiet today. Vhat seems to be zhe problem?” Scratchy asked, expecting Yakko to drop the act and start the chaos any second.

“Nothing.” Yakko mumbled.

Scratchy noted this on his pad of paper. This seemed serious.

“Yakko, if zhere ist a problem, you know you can tell me,” Scratchy said in a gentler tone. “Das ist vas I’m here for.”

“Okay, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it….”

“Try me.”

Yakko took a deep breath. “I think I’m attracted to my brother.”

Scratchy raised an eyebrow. This was new. He’d dealt with patients who had issues with incest, but it was a whole different story now that it was a Warner in the situation.

“You think I’m disgusting, don’t you?”

Scratchy looked up from his notepad. Yakko was staring at him, a hurt expression on his face.

“Nein, nein, I am not here to judge. Now, Yakko, are you sure zhat it is attraction you are feeling tovards Vakko?”

Yakko stared at him. “I. Want. To. Make. Out. With. My. Brother. Yes, I’m positive I’m attracted to Wakko,” Yakko retorted.

“Hmm….” Scratchy wrote on his pad some more. Yakko couldn’t take it anymore.

“You gotta help me, Scratchy! I’ve been hiding it from him all along and it’s eating me up inside! It’s only a matter of time until I slip up and say it or I say it in my sleep! I can’t have my brother thinking I’m some kind of freak!” Yakko jumped on Scratchy’s desk. “Seriously, I’m starting to find his lack of hygiene sexy,” he whispered behind his hand.

“Zhe only zhing I can suggest right now is writing zhese feelings in a journal. I vill have to zhink about zhis some more before going further,” Scratchy answered.

Yakko sighed, relieved. Maybe if he wrote his nasty little thoughts down, he wouldn’t have the urge to yell them from the top of the water tower anymore.

“Thanks, Scratchy! I’ll send Wakko in.” Yakko hopped off the desk and skipped out the door.

Scratchy knew he’d be able to refrain from telling Wakko about Yakko’s feelings for him. However, he still wasn’t exactly looking forward to this appointment. His office hadn’t smelled right since the last one. Plus, he could never get very far in de-zanitizing him because he never said much.

“So, Vakko, is zhere anything you vant to talk about?” Scratchy asked.

“Like what?” Wakko responded.

“Like…. Your relationship vith your siblings.”

“Oh.” Wakko smiled. “It’s fine.”

“Care to elaborate?” Scratchy pressed.

“It’s….really fine?”

Scratchy sighed. “Anything else? How about your day?”

Wakko thought for a while, then perked up. “I actually got up before Yakko! But not before Dot.”

“Go on.”

“And….she got into the bathroom first and took forever. So I didn’t shower.” Wakko grinned. Scratchy rubbed his temples.

Dot’s appointment was a little better. Scratchy got more out of her—maybe more than he wanted.

“So, Dot, vould you like to tell me about your relationship vith your brozers?” Scratchy asked.

“They’re cool most of the time, but sometimes Yakko talks in his sleep, which gets really annoying because he’s always yelling, ‘Hello, Nurse!’ And Wakko can be kinda gross. Like today, he didn’t take a shower—he hasn’t for two weeks now—and he wouldn’t put on his clothes until I threatened to sic a clown on him. Actually, now that I think about it, that was kinda funny.” Dot giggled.

Scratchy looked up in surprise. “He….vouldn’t put on his clothes?”

“Yeah, and it really seemed to freak Yakko out. I don’t know why, though, ‘cause they take baths together and they have the same stuff. Mostly.” Dot shrugged.

Scratchy was furiously writing on his notepad. Dot got bored and started balancing on her tail. She found that she could almost see Scratchy’s notepad.

“Whatcha writing?” she asked.

Scratchy held the pad against his chest. “Notes.”

“Oh. “ Dot got off her tail.

In the end, Scratchy didn’t call them in for a group appointment. Based on his notes, he had a lot to work through before he even made a dent in their zaniness.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: If you lock three volatile cartoon characters in a tower and expect them to stay sane after sixty years, you're playing yourself.

speedrunning gay mice insanity any%

I have half a mind to write a silly ass songfic to White Town's "Your Woman" where Pinky and Brain have a rough patch and break up for a while, then Pinky falls into Snowball's clutches and Brain comes to rescue him to Blood on the Dance Floor's "Bewitched," then Pinky and Brain passionately make up to White Town's "Undressed."