#I need proof or I sound like a crazy raving lunatic

[jamandjazz]

Okay I have to know, why do you headcanon Mason as aroace? (I love him so much and need more people to talk about him 😭)

Holy shit it’s happening. Oh my god I’ve been WANTING to yap abt this okay okay

So basically, first and foremost, the way Mason talks about relationships.

He does NOT want to be in a serious relationship. The way he talked made it sound like the thought was something that hardly crossed his mind, not really something he was sacrificing. Yes he was stressed and had more important things, like bills, on his mind but it never felt that way to me.

He doesn’t have a positive view on relationships at ALL even though he pretends to be happy for the person in front of them. Again, you COULD make the argument it’s because he sees it as a waste of money and something that’s gonna weigh him down but most allo people I know don’t ever think of romance that way. He talks the way I do and I guess a good amount of this is projection but it fits well enough anyways.

ALSO

THIS IS THE LINE THE STUCK OUT TO ME!! I will not elaborate bc I fear if this isn’t convincing that I have at least half a point and you can see where I’m coming from I’ll just sound delusional 💔

This WHOLE thing screamed aro to me but the parts underlined hit HARD.

Starting with the first bit, bro sounds so annoyed at the thought of him getting into girls. Very relatable 6/10 because it could also be just general advice and him thinking Tex is too young bc that’s his baby brother.

Second he KNOWS that most people would be embarrassed that they haven’t done anything, even if he personally has no desire for it he’s well aware he should keep that to himself.

Third, I’m 90% sure most allos don’t think of relationships as being traps. And even when they do that’s bc they suck ass at being partners with someone and I love Mason too much to think that of him. Sure, in part, it might be that he has attachment issues and that he doesn’t want to be tied down to the town but hear me OUT 😭🙏 I’m making sense I SWEAR.

Masons smart, he probably knows how to do stuff WITHOUT getting anyone pregnant and he’s level headed enough to do it too but bro doesn’t WANT to. The idea seems to make him sick which, same! To me relationships seem like such a nuisance and genuinely like one of the worst things someone could do to themselves. But allos don’t see it that way. I don’t think I have anything to “fix” about myself because FUNDAMENTALLY relationships sound awful. I can understand why people like them (sort of. Eh. Maybe. If I try really hard and ignore the voice in my head screaming that they’re stupid) but to me they’ll never sound like anything but something tying me down.

…okay so maybe I was projecting a little.

In short, I think he’s aroace because of the he talks down on relationships, his fundamental views on them, and the fact you can’t say that it’s just that he’s never dated. He has dated and has had many chances to “fall in love” but he just hasn’t. He doesn’t get attached to the people he dates and generally sees the idea of a partner a nuisance.

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 17

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 17: Can You Feel The Love Tonight~

“Pass some of that Okra.”

“Here you go.”

“Why is this so spicy?!”

“Well it is the spicy plate, if you can’t handle the heat then you should have gotten the other plate.”

“No, just this one specifically is damn spicy!”

“Red made some of them.”

“It’s not my fault that your taste isn’t refined enough.”

“Come over here and say that!”

“No fighting at the table,” Macaque said as he watched Bohai try to stand up from his seat, while Red was smirking at him.

“Won’t be much of a fight,” the demon prince mocked.

“You little-” his mouth was then stuffed with green beans.

“Just eat some veggies and calm yourself,” Sheng cracked a grin as they put some green beans in their mouth.

The jellyfish demon moodily just chewed on his food in silence.

“Children, all of them,” Mei said as she set down the bowl of Okra Ahmed passed her.

“So have you heard about the rumors about Yakimoto,” Yanyu leaned into MK.

“Yakimoto? The head of the Neurology department?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about her?”

“Well recently I have heard from a friend of mine, who heard from the janitor, who had heard from a physician of that department, that he had heard that she had been having little outings with her lovely secretary of hers,” she whispered loudly.

“Wait, doesn't she have a husband?” His eyes widened.

“Yes she does, but she’s always complaining about the whole ordeal being set up as an arranged marriage by both of their parents-”

“That’s still a thing?”

“Apparently, the two see each other as siblings.”

“Really?!”

“Totally, in fact, there have been whispers that her husband also has a special man as well.”

“Shut up, tell me more,” he stuffed the Tofu in his mouth as Yanyu began to talk all about the man at the flower shop a couple of blocks down from Pigsy noodles.

“Is it always this loud,” Wukong smiled as he watched the table filled with little chaos.

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” he said as he ate. “Just be glad this isn’t a holiday dinner then it really would be chaotic. Especially with everyone else that would join in,” he remembered last new year when they finally dragged Pigsy to close down the shop for one night to enjoy the holiday. It was a mad scene of chaos and energy as all of them were raving like mad lunatics even before the food came out, Ahmed and Sandy were barely able to stop Sheng, Daiyu, Tang, and Mei from setting off fireworks right next to some containers of peanut oil. And that was after MK and Mei had already demolished the kitchen with Yanyu siblings looking for the moon cakes.

“Everyone else?” He questioned as he noticed the slight smile on his friend's face.

“Oh don’t worry, stick around long enough and you’ll meet them face to face rather than watching them creepily from the distance” he shook himself out of memories.

The Monkey Sage paused, then he smiled widely, “I can’t wait then.”

“Okay, now can we learn how the hell you met Shun!” Mei exclaimed as everyone settled down in the living room. “Cause, I’m surprised you didn’t smell the crazy off of him at first sight.”

“It’s always the quiet ones that get you,” Daiyu muttered. “He seemed alright, but he was just hiding his batshit craziness.

“Right, I mean that just goes to show doc always had terrible taste in partners,” Yanyu nodded.

“Partners” Monkey King emphasized, “as in more than one.”

“Oh yeah, he has quite the number of people after his plump ass,” Minsheng smirked as they tried to smack Mac on the ass when he passed by him, but he winced when a black tail wrapped around his hand and flipped him over.

“No,” the simian deadpanned and was about to sit down next to Ahmed when Wukong pulled him over and sat him down beside him.

“Seems like you're quite popular then,” he joked and wrapped his arm around him.

“Not really popularity wise, but more of him simply having bad taste,” Sheng teased.

“I mean you're not wrong,” he shrugged as he sank into Wukong’s side.

“But how?!” Mei whined once more.

“Tell us!” MK soon joined her as he laid on Red lap.

“I’m quite interested to hear this as well,” the prince asked as well.

“Pleasseee,” Wukong batted his eyes

“Fine, fine, I’ll bite,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s not that interesting how we met, in fact, it was pretty normal.”

“What was it?”

“Amid a territory brawl over a section of land out in the Azurite Forest.”

“…okay I think we have two very different definitions

of normal,” Mei deadpanned.

“Probably, anyways I was sitting high in the tree watching these assholes argue-”

“I told you that past the Vivion Treeline was our territory and yet you dare go past that line and defy us!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you send your minions down and scavenge in our territory first!”

“You have no proof of any trespassing that happened!”

“Are you saying my own lies to my face?! HA! Now that’s a laugh to even think about, no I trust them long before I will even think about breathing in your direction!”

“I suppose it’s best you lay down and suffocate cause there is no way in hell that my boys lied to me!”

“Now ain’t that a lie!”

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Sheesh, of course I would happen to stumble upon this right when I have to get some Fuchsia berries,” Macaque grumbled as he watched the argument from above. “Damn idiots.”

“I happen to agree,” Mac barely flinched when a calm voice called out and saw from the tree to the right of him was a gray lemur with a black and white striped tail. “I too have some important items that I need to procure, but these heathens happen to be in my way.”

“Only found in this forest,” the simian said.

“Unfortunately yes the Inada spiritual root is only grown here, if it was elsewhere I would have already turned back and away from this nonsense,” he scrunched his nose in distaste.

“I feel ya on that, the berries that I need happen to be for an elixir for the spiritual development of the 8th degree. One of my clients needs it after her body is close to breaking down due to her organs inability to support her fire breath,” he sighed as he looked down at the argument once more and noted that it would soon turn into an all out brawl.

“You're talking about the Firaga Restoration Elixir,” the lemur had a glint in his eyes. “Not many physicians know of that and even less have the ability to make it.”

“Made it a few times before…how about we help each other out?” He tapped his chin as an idea came to him.

“Go on.”

“Our items are pretty much in the same area, if we can sneak around and past the tree line then it would be homestretch from then on cause I am quickly picking up that most of the demons from each tribe are here.”

“Hmm, sounds adequate though do you believe to be capable enough to pass them undetected,” he turned to look at the monkey only to blink when he saw he wasn’t there anymore.

“Now where did he-”

“Is this good enough for you,” the lemur’s tail quickly shot towards the voice, but it was stopped by a hand. “Sorry, did I scare ya,” Macaque grinned as he held onto the furry tail.

The lemur blinked a few times before a smile grew, “It would appear that you have.”

“Well let’s get moving and the name is Macaque,” he let go of the tail, but the tail didn’t let go as it instead kept almost a loose grip around Mac's hand.

“I’m Shun,” the lemur purred as he stepped forward until their bodies were pressed together and he leaned down until they were nose to nose. “It will be a pleasure working with you.” And like he wasn’t even there, he quickly stepped back and began to move above the treetops of where the fight had commenced.

Macaque stood still for a brief moment before a fierce blush took over his face and he silently followed Shun. If both tree climbers happened to take glances at one another throughout the trip, no one would affirm anything.

“Like I said, horrible taste in partners,” Yanyu stated once more.

“Yeah, like you let him all up in your space and didn’t say a word, clearly bad,” Mei nodded.

“Like seriously, who would just go up and invade someone's personal bubble like that, totally rude,” MK joined in.

“You should have kicked his ass when he did that Mango, you have done it before,” Wukong said as he nonchalantly dragged him to his lap and rested his chin on Mac’s shoulder. “Don’t let anyone near you unless you want to.”

Everyone, barring Macaque and Wukong were either subtly or straight out eyeing Wukong, who was still cuddled up next to the black simian. They can practically taste the hypocrisy going on here.

“Okay I get it,” he put his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t need to gang up on me like that.”

“So what happened after that?” MK asked.

“Well the rest is history, he began to hang around my place a lot more and next thing I knew we were going on dates with each other,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Daiyu perked up, “did he ever ask you out?”

“Of cou-…” he stopped mid sentence as he thought it over then he furrowed his brow, “actually, now that I think about it, no. He never did. We were just eating out one day at a restaurant and proclaimed it to be a date.”

“Pops/Doc/Mango/Dude really,” Mei, Yanyu, Wukong, and Minsheng all groaned as the rabbit demon continued, “you really should have known something was up after that.”

“I really didn’t,” he rubbed the back of his head as he remembered he was taken aback by his statement but went with it as he did have a small crush on him back then.

“Just be glad you weren’t around to see Hui,” Ahmed said, receiving a wounded look from Macaque.

“Kitty, I thought you were on my side!”

“I am…just not when it comes to your choice of partners.”

“Even Mufasa here knows that she was batshit insane,” Bohai deadpanned, “nice and hilarious, but holy shit was she insane.”

“She wasn’t that-”

“Did you forget that she was a raging alcoholic scorpion that had the desire to go up to not only to the Celestial Realm and raid their alcohol supply, but to go down under all the way to Yama realm and claim the title of all the ten kings and live in luxury,” Minsheng bluntly stated.

“Just not Yama crown, because she stated that she didn’t want to do all of that work, not because it was suicidal to try to fight him,” Daiyu continued. She loves to fight as much as her siblings, but even she knew better than to pick a fight with one of the big boys on top, or in this case, down below.

“And I’m not even gonna mention that when she was in her drunken rage, she had the tendency to poison others with her tails when they stood opposed or even just breathed near her,” Bohai finished.

“…” Macaque said nothing as he just leaned closer to the other monkey, who happily complied with his actions as he further tightened his arm around him and silently rubbed his thumb on his shoulder.

“So much bad taste in partners, so much,” the bluenette put her head in her hands.

“I’m starting to see your point,” the pigtailed adult agreed as she glanced at the scene with a curious look.

“At least we don’t have to worry about that anymore, what I’m a bit curious about is how all of you guys met MK here,” Wukong tried to subtly move on from the conversation of Macaque’s romantic relationship. If he had to hear about yet another demon he dated, he might actually lose his mind.

“Oh let me!” MK eagerly began, “well I remember that I was sleeping when I heard Daiyu yell out.”

“Because of course it was her,” the bluenette said.

“And I walk into the room and-” as MK enthusiastically told the story, Wukong had quietly taken out the red rubber band holding his hair in a ponytail and gazed at the silky black fur cascaded down his back. And before he knew it, his fingers were entangled in Mac’s fluffy fur as the other simian sighed at the soft touches.

“Been a long time since you did this,” Mac purred as he relaxed into the grooming.

“Well it’s about time we pick it back up, besides no one is better at grooming than a monkey,” he purred, but he paused as he quietly had thought and delicately asked, “speaking of monkeys, do you want to visit the ones back at Flower Fruit?”

Mac's eyes widened as he almost instantly turned his head, but was stopped by hands, “Are you serious?”

“I mean they have missed you a whole lot,” he tried to nonchalantly say, “especially since they smelt you on the kid and was practically begging me to bring your ass over.”

“They are still demanding little shits huh,” he gave a small huff.

“The one thing that hasn’t changed.”

“…yeah I would like that,” he smiled up at him.

“Cool, cool,” he couldn’t stop his tail from excitedly wagging behind him, but he instead tried to stall it by looking at the fluffy fur once more as another purr came through. It’s not his fault he couldn’t stop it from emerging from his long time crush response and his fascination with his long fur.

“You really do have such a long fur, why’d you grow it out anyways, not that I’m complaining.”

“I dunno, I just forgot to cut it short and when I finally noticed I decided to just keep it,” he shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you did, it looks amazing on you,” Wukong said as he looked down to meet Macaque’s eyes and promptly realizing what he said, he quickly averted his gaze and nervously laughed, “Or you know, it looks good.”

“Ah, umm thanks,” the doctor said as he felt the faint blush on his cheeks.

The sage monkey was about to say something else when he noticed that a few eyes were on him and he quickly went back to his grooming session. While making completely sure that his eyes didn’t even go towards anywhere in their direction.

The traffic light trio saw the scene and they all shared a glance at one another, but opted to say nothing as the story continued and the two monkeys, in everyone's eyes, began to cuddle up together.

“Where is he?” Red huffed as he sat on the opposite side of Mei at one of the arcade booths. “Usually he’s the first one here.”

“I know he was helping Pigsy out with a large Party order, but that should have been done by now,” Mei shrugged as she took another sip of her drink.

“Well he should hurry it up else I will-”

“What’s up, party dudes!” An energetic voice cried out that instantly made Mei spit out her drink.

“Oh hell no!” She stood up as she grabbed her dagger and was inwardly cursing herself about leaving her sword at home, “I’m not about to deal with you a second time! Not today Satan!”

“Should I be concerned?” Red raised an eyebrow as he looked at MK, who was for some reason wearing a pink visor, blue headphones and an atrocious cheetah print outfit. “Cause this whole look right here is very concerning.”

“No need to worry hot stuff,” MK said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Not here to do any lasting damage, unless you're into that,” he winked.

“W-w-what?!” A small burst of flame erupted from his head.

“I don’t trust that for a second,” the Dragon successor hissed as she still held her dagger up.

“I swearsies doll.”

“Wha-no stay focused,” she faltered but shook it off, “That is rich coming from the disembodied attachment of my friend who can just poof in and out without consequences of your actions.”

“Disembodied?” Red, still under the clone arm, confusedly said.

“Touché,” he pointed a finger, “but for real, I’m just here to deliver a message from the big boss himself.”

“Talk,” she demanded as she slightly lowered her weapon at that.

“BB will be late due to a crazy ass bitch on the block doin her usual bitch in and be all complainin about her food order being all wrong and demanding that they hand it over for free.”

“Oh,” Mei's eyebrow raised. “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

“No it did not my lovely Empress, cause next thing they knew the bitch was calling up the rest of her posse upon BB and Big Bad Boss and now she is yellin her ass about about some scam they be tryin to pull on them all.”

“I’m starting to see where this is head,” she sheathed her blade when she said that, though she did have a light blush of confusion over the nickname.

“Your thoughts be right as the next thing anyone knows, everyone is brawling with each other so hard that even some of the people on the street just up and joined in.”

“So MK got mixed up in that, but why didn’t he just text us that,” the Bull successor asked as he finally recognized that this was a clone and not the real MK.

“Cause Triple B ordered Double B to not get the food ruined under any circumstances my sweet King so now BB is hauling ass all around the town as the Karen Gang chase after his ass,” Portay MK smirked as he saw the prince blush.

“Karen Gang,” she snorted at the nickname, “Does he need any help, cause I will be more than happy to bust a few heads for him.”

“I as well.”

“Aww ain’t the both of you just a bundle of sweetness, makes me want to give you both a big ol kiss,” he flirted once more.

“Just show us!” At this point both teenagers had either a small or large flush on their faces.

“Alright Alright, I’ll show ya,” he said as he quickly made his way out of the arcade and to the streets with them both following. “But I won’t stop~ Someone got to help Double B get the ball rollin and I guess it will have to be me. This will be so much fun,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing my Sugar hearts!” He smiled at their groans of embarrassment.

“Is he always like this?!”

“I met him once and that was when he had me tied up during a never ending party, which I still can’t fully remember due to all the sugar and caffeine I inhaled.”

“The WHAT?!”

“Oh yeah, that was a ride.”

“Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here, huh,” Macaque mused as he and MK climbed up the mountain.

“Right, you lived here before,” MK said as they climbed up the steps. “What was it like back then?”

“Honestly, at first it looks and feels the same, every time that I breathe I can still smell the crisp pine air and the heavy mineral undertones that I still smell on Monkey King,” he took a deep breath. “This place really brings back some memories.”

“Good ones?” The doctor to be said with a bit of hope as they finally reached the top.

“Yeah, good ones,” he stopped as his ears pricked up at an incoming sound. “That screech,” he whispered.

“Huh?” MK looked to his Dad, only to be bombarded with the most ear piercing noise.

SCREEEEEECCCCCCHHHHHH

Then, almost out of nowhere, a hoard of monkeys all popped out and practically flew towards the black simian.

“What the-!” MK was startled by the sudden attack and was about to step forward to his Dad only to pause at the sight of multiple monkeys, all of them screeching in delight, clinging onto him as the demon joyfully nuzzled them back.

“I missed you guys too,” he purred as he felt many cuddles underneath his chin, on his back, upon his arms, even on top of his head. He really missed these idiots.

“Awwww,” the adult cooed at the adorable sight.

“Man, that was faster than I was expecting,” the student turned and saw his mentor standing right behind him. “One moment they were playing and the next thing I know they all began to run off. I swear their smell has gotten better over these years.”

“So that’s why they could smell Dad on me that time.”

“You got it,” he finger gunned him as he walked up to the pile of monkeys. “So it seems this is one-”

“HISSSSSSS!” All the monkeys clinging onto Macaque hissed at their idiotic king.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” he deadpanned as he plopped himself onto the pile, with MK following suit. “But I promise we won’t be so stupid again.”

“Ooo oo,” a female monkey crossed her arms as she sat on the monkey doctor's head.

“King honor,” he raised his hand.

“Ooo,” she nodded and gave him a flick on the nose before snuggling back on top of the head.

“She really hasn't changed one bit,” Mac snorted at her antics.

“Nope, but she is still as bossy as ever,” he smiled and gave her a scratch on her head.

“Especially when she forced me to drink water,” MK piped up, “she literally forced it down my throat after one of the sessions. I didn’t think you could drown via water bottle, but when there's a monkey there's a way.”

“Yeah, sounds like her,” both monkeys said.

The sun was beginning to set as MK and the rest of the tribe were all playing out in the mountains in an extreme game of hide and seek. Extreme as in they all will literally yeet themself off the tallest rock just so they won’t get found, the first couple of times MK played this he had to stop his heart from trying to run out of his chest, but he slowly found himself enjoying throwing himself off like a rabid maniac. Is there something wrong with all of them? Maybe, but no one can deny that it is really fun.

“I swear, their IQ always seems to decrease when they play these games,” Mac muttered as he watched his child vault himself off of a rock just so the seeker wouldn’t catch him.

“Didn’t you think of this?” Wukong hummed as he smirked when he saw his student delicately land on one of the boulders below.

“Yep and I still don’t know if I regret it.”

“I mean you did worse,” he coyly smirked.

“You don’t want to talk about dumbass ideas with me Mr. ‘Let’s just ambush the trailing cart of a tired ass deity that would happily shank up on our sleep.’” He snarked back.

“Says the one who thought it would be a good idea to toss me in the water, forgetting that my stone ass can’t swim!” He shot back, they were playing around and Macaque had the jump of him and tossed him in the river. The black simian paused at what he just did and immediately panicked and dived down after him.

“You should really think about losing a few pounds, you were heavy,” he mocked and then got promptly tackled by the other monkey.

“I’ll show you heavy, how’d you like that mushroom brain,” he teased as he began to wrestle him.

“Says you rock for brains,” he shot back as he tried to get the upper hand. This went on for a few minutes as both monkeys playfully began to wrestle each other on the ground. It ended when Wukong managed to pin him down while holding his hands above his head and wrapping his tail firmly around the others.

“HA! I win!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed after he tried to get out after a few attempts. “Don’t get such a big head about it.”

“Aww, but you know it only does good things to my ego~,” he teased as he leaned down.

“No it doesn’t, simply it’s truly terrible.”

“It does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does not!

“Does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does!”

“Does not! Damnit!” He cursed at the trickery.

“How do you fall for it every single time,” he openly laughed.

Wukong was about to refute when he saw just how close to each other they were and sucked in a breath. He can feel his chest against his own with each breath of air, he can see the faintest shimmer of violet deep within his golden eyes, he can feel his nose touching the soft button nose of his partner.

Macaque obviously heard the intake of breath, no super hearing necessary, and was about to ask when he too stopped short. It could be from the fact that their noses were so close to each other that he could feel his warm breath, the way he could feel the muscle very clearly against his own fur, or even how his golden eyes seem to be extra bright today that he can’t. Stop. Looking.

Neither pair noticed a pair of human eyes locking onto them with a curious expression on his face as he slowly backed up.

Either way, all of those reasons are very much valid in both of their minds as a familiar silence filled the air and it felt oh so good as they just almost blend together as one. This wasn’t the usual safe cuddles that both were adjusted to, no this was something long in the making, that this was something that was more than the friend standpoint that they anchored themselves down on and refuse to step off. This was something even more than love, but the word itself is the only thing that fits what they feel for the other, and they instinctively knew that there is something more between them, something devastatingly eternal.

There can be more if they just make that step off the cliff and into the unknown air.

But not today, no not today.

Instead, Macaque put his foot back down to that safe cliff and latched on tightly as cleared his throat. “You want to get off me anytime, I kinda want to feel my bones sometime,” he managed to say. He can’t take that step, he knows he’s a coward when it comes to admitting that he actually loves Wukong, but they just became friends once more after their stupid separation and he refuses to do anything that jeopardizes it.

“Right, my bad,” he said with a fake smile plastered on as he got off him and sat beside him. He can see the air and he can feel his feet wanting to make that leap into the foggy air and see how far the two can go, but he will push down that impulse. He wants this so badly, for centuries (no matter how hard he tries to deny it) he wants to admit that he loves Macaque, but he will keep his mouth shut. His impulsiveness has already done enough damage as it is, no need to add the emotional turmoil on top of all the other shit he did to his friend.

The two of them sat in silence once more as they sat side by side to each other, totally ignoring the small moment between.

“So…what are you doing for the Lunar New Year?” Wukong asked in an effort to get rid of the silence.

“Well this year, we’re gonna spend it in the city with the others this time around. Everyone brings some food, usually, I bring the moon cakes as I have the extra hands and you can never have too many.” Ever since he had met Yanyu, who had dragged him to his first Lunar year with her family in the city, it had become somewhat of a tradition to go to the city every two years and spend time together. “What are you doing?”

“Oh you know, just gonna chill on the mountain with good food and watch the fireworks,” he nonchalantly said.

“Just by yourself,” he questioningly asked. If there was one of the many things he knew about Wukong, it was that he hated being alone on any occasion. He knew it stemmed from his own weird beginnings and his unawareness of the societal norms at the start, but it all went downhill after he was trapped in the mountain with only the bitch ass spirits keeping guard, he could only sneak in so many times before one of the guards noticed something amiss, unfortunately. (Though he quite happily stopped by when Wukong was finally free and he had quite the playtime with them, he still can’t help but grin at the sound of their screams. It was truly music to his ears.)

“Yeah,” he shrugged. It wasn’t anything new, ever since his friends have…gone, he couldn’t quite bring himself to spend the holiday with anyone other than the tribe from time to time. It just doesn’t feel right anymore…it doesn’t feel like he has the right anymore.

“Yeah, no. Your ass is coming with me to the festival,” Mac deadpanned.

“What?!” He turned his head so hard that he could almost hear his neck snap.

“You. Are. Spending. The. Festival. With. Us.” He slowly emphasized each word as if he couldn’t understand it. “Got it.”

“But-but-”

“We’re not talking about your ass here, but you are coming.”

“I don’t want to intrude, it will probably be really weird,” he tried to rebuttal.

“The group has almost twenty people and then those people will sometimes bring their friends along, the more the merrier.”

“What about how I look, cause no offense, but I don’t want to be mowed down in a frenzy to get an autograph or a picture or something!”

“We both know you have a human disguise, hell I sometimes use my own from time to time.”

“But-”

“Wukong,” he grabbed his shoulders. “You are going to come to the Lunar Festival with us.”

The monkey opened his mouth once more, but sighed and sagged his shoulder. “When have you become so demanding.”

“I learned that from you,” he smirked.

“Pfft, nahh you have always been a demanding shit even before me,” he chuckled as he laid his head on Mac's shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll join you guys.”

“Great, but if it does get too much just come grab me and we can bail to one of the rooftops,” he shifted and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

He smiled into his shoulder, “I wouldn’t mind that buttt I wouldn’t mind trying one of the moon cakes, especially if you make some with peaches in them.”

The doctor fondly rolled his eyes, “I’ll make some peach candy mooncakes for you dumbass.”

“Yes!”

[donnerpartyofone]

A few years ago there was this moment where I got a ton of anonymous messages from some far right asshole about the usual shit--Hillary, the corrosive force of immigration, inherently evil ethnic and religious groups, etc. The messages were weird in that most of them seemed to be copied and pasted out of the middle of some article somewhere, but there was never a source mentioned, and there was never enough information for me to get the whole picture even if I really cared about all this "proof" that black and brown people should be kicked out of Sweden or whatever the point was supposed to be. Some of the messages were actually written by the sender, and they all sounded pretty stereotypically crazy: rude, vague, delirious references to conspiracies, pedophilia, brainwashing, etc on the left, or really just orbiting around Clinton. (This is totally tangential, but to this day I'm convinced that all these reactionary nutbags just want to fuck Hillary Clinton, I mean the enduring, overheated obsession with her has extended so far beyond the the sphere of her electoral campaign or any threat of her achieving greater power that there has to be a reason these freaks keep bringing her up, bringing up the fevered vision of a woman dominating them along with the entire country, a compelling reason, perhaps a BIOLOGICAL reason) I'm still embarrassed about this, but I engaged with this person, posting their inane drivel to try to vivisect it, to explain why it was so stupid and ineffectual. I wasn't that worried about giving them a platform, since the messaging was so primitive and hard to understand if you weren't already on his side, but that was exactly my point: When you make yourself sound like an escaped lunatic in a doomsday sandwich board sign, who is supposed to take anything you say seriously? How could it have any effect besides undermining whatever you're trying to support? That effect, and the strengthening of convictions held by lefties like me, who would naturally like to be as opposite of your raving inarticulate ass as possible? And besides all that, my blog had a pretty apolitical appearance at the time, so why was anon assuming I was this passionate Clinton shill? I mean, fuck him and his bigoted garbage, OF COURSE, but I couldn't figure out how he had targeted me personally for this treatment.

The point that I wish I had gotten then was, it didn't matter. It might have been the result of one of those things you hear about from time to time, about how supposedly a bunch of mean jerks from 4chan (or whatever the current iteration is) are going to conduct a "raid" on Tumblr, like they're going to seek and destroy liberal snowflakes and precious cinnamon rolls with their, uh...incredible verbal prowess I guess. Surely the point was just to get me all riled up so someone could say that they pwned me, although I don't know what the reward of this pwning was supposed to be besides the "made you look!" thrill of tricking me into talking to or about them. I'll never understand the perspective of the kind of person who thinks that you "win" something when someone blocks you online, as if blocking isn't just a way of saying "You are literally worthless." It's interesting how that line of troll thinking works, it seems to suggest something like, "Ah, you should have KNOWN that I was nothing but an insignificant piece of shit with nothing to say, but you treated me like I was worth talking to, so therefore I WIN!" I strongly suspect that all of troll culture (I mean, not LEGIT trolls who bait you with patently stupid decoy ideas, but these little garbage people who bait you with their real actual opinions) is predicated on an urge to masochism, that this kind of person is always a spineless perverted weakling who craves insults and punishment, who feels in their very bones that they deserve the worst, who is at all times secretly drooling to slurp on the delicious bootheel of Hillary Clinton, long after her rally balloons have been found deflated and dangling from the network of powerlines crisscrossing the Real America...

But that reminds me of another self-loathing lunatic of my acquaintance, my ex-boyfriend. Yes, really, but I swear to god this is going somewhere. He was an intelligent guy, a lit major who had graduated with honors from a reputable liberal arts school, an editor at a respected arts & culture publishing house who fancied himself a progressive thinker who stood up for the freedoms of others--and who, I slowly found out, used his enthusiasm for Obama and The Daily Show to mask the noxious brew of casual racism and virulent misogyny that made up his fuel for living. When we were dating, I thought that we had problems, and I thought dealing with problems was a normal part of adult relationships; I thought the opposite of constantly struggling for peace, honesty, and respect was "expecting life to be like a fairy tale", which I certainly did not want to be accused of. So I didn't get what was going on when he would choose some arbitrary trigger for an abusive episode, and I would try, and fail, to resolve whatever was bothering him. I bought in to the idea that we were both intelligent people with respect for one another's intelligence, and that it was possible for us to get at the heart of any trouble through calm and rational discussion. He often gave me plenty of breadcrumbs to follow, indicating that there were REASONS that he was angry with me, which led me to believe I could fix everything by clearing up misunderstandings, since I had never conspired to do anything to him but try to love him. (Although sometimes he wouldn't even tell me what I had supposedly done, intoning "You're a clever girl, you'll figure it out" in a sneering Joan Crawfordesque voice--I should have known then that he didn't need or even want a good reason to attack me) But, his debate style, if I can call it that, involved screaming, changing the subject, repeating whatever I said back to me in a "r*tard voice", impugning my character (or that of my family and friends) in ways that had nothing to do with the argument, and other tactics that ensured that his opportunity to hurt and terrorize me lasted for hours or days. I missed the fact that for him, the fight wasn't a resolvable interruption of our relationship, it was the entire point of the relationship.

The most brilliant thing he'd ever done--though I don't want to call it that, since this has more to do with base instincts than brains--was to use my intelligence against me. If I had placed more importance on my own feelings than I did on "being fair" and "making sense" of our conflicts, then I would have escaped before I had to develop this whole behavioral theory that I am delivering to you now. By producing "reasons" for his anger, he made me think there was a debate to be had, and that the person with the superior logic would win out. I was convinced that would be me, since I knew the Truth, and he was just confused by his inner demons (drugs and alcohol, his shitty friends who "made him" do bad things, his supposed trauma from the last relationship he deliberately destroyed, his inferior parents who made him look bad by being "visionless ant people", and whatever other excuses he surfaced whenever it benefited him to play the tragically injured good guy). What I know now is, all abuse is the same, and it doesn't need or want to justify itself. Its only aim is the free reign of violence. It has no interest in truth or justice of even the most deformed variety. Its goal is to give unfiltered vent to all forms of hatred. The fact that it disguises itself with a mask of rationality, made up of straw men, false equivalences, dubiously construed "facts" arranged into artificial patterns, and other distractingly logical-looking tactics, does not mean that what is inside operates on, or is vulnerable to, actual logic. It's all just id monster shit. Do not interact.

[hinshinotsuki]

🖤 Switched 🖤

***

***

"Hange, no!"

But, despite (F/N)'s endless protests, she still found themselves right outside Erwin's office.

"Name and business." a deep male voice said from within the room.

"It's Hange, and (F/N) and I wanted to show you something unbelievable!"

Silence. But, after just a few seconds, Erwin answered. "Come in."

Hange opened the door and (F/N) was greeted by the sight of the man she feared, who smiled at her like it's nothing.

However, that smile of his reminded her of last night wherein she cried on his arms and positively fell asleep there due to fatigue. As she looked at the man who stood from his chair on the other side of the wooden desk, she couldn't help but feel that the Erwin right now was a completely different version of who she knew way back home. She decided to trust him for now and get this thing over and done with.

"Hange, it's a surprise you didn't just come barging in like always." Erwin said as he went closer to the two of them.

"Well, it's a surprise you didn't show up for breakfast." Hange answered.

"I was finishing the documents on our next sortie to be delivered to the Capital the day after tomorrow."

"Is it finished now?"

"Everything is ready."

(F/N) looked at the two who were casually exchanging conversation like they were not the worst of enemies in the entire city. Well, this is a different world, and two enemies in her world might be the closest of friends here.

Right then, Erwin looked at (F/N), flashing her a bright smile. "How was your day, Miss (F/N)?"

"It's good," (F/N) answered hesitantly. "Thanks."

"Now, about that unbelievable thing you're about to show me?"

"Oh, yes!" Hange said then clasped her hands. She looked at and gestured for her to show Erwin the unbelievable thing. She took the phone from her pocket and handed it to Erwin. He took it curiously and examined it like it was a strange gem or something.

"That is called a cellphone, Erwin. And it can do lots of things!"

"This is a cellphone? I sure never heard of it."

"Of course, you haven't! Since it came from a different world just like our friend here."

Erwin looked at (F/N) suspiciously. Of course, he still thought that she was a lunatic for raving about things last night. Of course, he still didn't believe her after what he just told her last night.

"Yes, I know, I'm a lunatic. Now, if you'll excuse me,..." she said, then took the phone from Erwin's hand, ready to leave the room if it weren't for Hange grabbing her arm. Again.

"Please, (F/N)." pleaded the woman. "You've got to trust him! He only looks like this, but you have to put your faith in him, just like I did to you!"

"Sorry?" Erwin interrupted, clearly offended that Hange just branded him as untrustworthy.

(F/N) sighed and turned around to face the two of them once more. She looked up at Erwin and gave him what she hoped to be a determined look.

"I'll show you I'm not a lunatic." she said, then brought the phone to life, making Erwin astounded just like Hange four hours and thirty minutes ago. Clearly satisfied of the look on Erwin's face, she went to the Videos option and opened one they recorded a while ago. It showed Hange talking and asking questions.

"So, you mentioned a name of a certain place earlier. What was it called again?" Hange on the video asked, making Erwin's eyes widen with both fear and wonder.

"Paradis." a voice that belonged to (F/N) answered, but she's nowhere to be seen because she was the one who was recording the video.

"And what is Paradis?"

"This is what this country is called. Paradis. How come you didn't know about that?"

"You see, we, the people here, are surrounded by three massive Walls - Maria, Rose, and Sina. They were built to protect us from giant human - eating creatures called Titans. We, the Scouts, come out of the Walls in expeditions to find out as much truth about this world as we can. And from what you're saying before, it seems that we're not the only ones here, and that the human race was not as extinct as we thought it was. And they are divided, by different races, by what you call countries?"

"That is correct. And this country is called Paradis."

"Remarkable!" Erwin muttered almost breathlessly, fully entranced by the video.

"And, are there others?"

"Yes. There are hundreds, more than you can count. There is Hizuru of the east, Marley of the west, Arabia on the middle east. just to name a few."

"And where can Paradis be found?"

"About south, but not exactly in Africa. Because, Paradis is just like a small island just above the ring of fire."

"Ring of fire?!"

"No, no, no! Not an exact ring of fire. Countries located in the ring of fire have hot or tropical temperatures. Paradis is almost aligned with Hizuru on the eastern side, so the weather here is not exactly hot or tropical. Hence, the winter season."

"Oh, I see! But, we do have a different kind of Winter Season here, and it is annually celebrated by the wealthy people of Wall Sina. We, higher military officials, do get invited sometimes."

"Oh, tell me, please."

And, just like that, the video went to an end, leaving Erwin speechless and slightly wobbly on the knees.

"So, Erwin, what do you think?" Hange asked after a few moments of silence.

The confused Commander held up a hand and covered his eyes with the other. "I need a moment, please." he said, then went weakly towards his chair, where he almost collapsed.

"Erwin!" Hange quickly went to his side to offer him assistance.

"I'm fine, Hange, thanks." Erwin said and smiled. He looked up at (F/N), who remained rooted to the ground. "The things you just said, are they all true?"

"Positive."

"That we're not the only ones here, and that there are others outside the Walls?"

"In the world where I came from, yes, it's true."

"Where is your proof?" Erwin questioned.

(F/N)'s eyes widened with determination as she opened the mobile data and location functionality of her phone. Knowing in an instant how strangely fast the internet reception here in this world was ( if there's any, at all ) and ignoring it all the same, she went closer to the man and clicked on the World Map option. She showed him a photo of a vast land with hundreds of little writings on it and pointed at the word Trost.

"This is where we are right now." She said, then zoomed out on the screen, making the photo look smaller, and revealing a piece of land surrounded by lots of blue. "This is Paradis Island." she zoomed out once more and showed them multiple patches of land, some big, some small, just like Paradis. "And this is our continent." she was about to zoom out, her fingers ready on the screen, when she decided to give it her all and finally prove to him that she was not crazy. "I'm about to show you the whole globe on this map, would you also like me to show you the galaxy map?"

"Stop! Please,..." Erwin said, holding out a single hand, effectively conveying his lost against his psychological battle with (F/N). "That is enough."

(F/N) withdrew her phone like a gun and took a few steps backwards, letting all of the things she showed the Commander sink in on his confused brain.

After a few moments of silence, Hange finally said something.

"So, Erwin, do you believe me now? I told you she came from another world, and she has proof, which she showed to you. Do you believe her now? Do you now believe that she was an entirely different person?"

"It's hard for me to say this, but yes. I do believe you now." Erwin said, defeated.

"So, you lied to me last night when you said you believe me!" (F/N) argued heatedly.

"No! I - "

For a moment, it seemed that Erwin was full of hesitation, but after a few seconds, he finally had the guts to say what's really on his mind since last night.

"(F/N), I do believe you now, but you have to believe me for what I'm about to say." he began. "You see, you, I mean our (F/N) was really insisting on cancelling our next sortie for an unknown reason. Of course, I have to deny her foolish request. And then, you came along. Or, should I say, Hange found you on that lake, almost dead. I truly believed Levi when he said that you only drowned yourself to gain our attention. But then, you told me your story, about how Levi       cheated on you and that you tried to kill yourself because of that,...

"For your information, (F/N), there really was a breakup. Of you and Levi. But, not like how you described it to be. And then, this,..."

Erwin massaged his temples, unable to accept what was truly happening. "What kind of sorcery is this?"

"Don't ask me that, sir. I don't know how I even ended up here." (F/N) answered.

"But, there must be some kind of gateway from your world to here, right?" Hange suggested. "That lake. They say that the lake was the habitat of the Maiden, and that it is enchanted."

"Maiden?" (F/N) asked curiously.

"The night our (F/N) went missing, it was the night of the celebration of the Maiden of the Lake. Legends say that the Maiden could grant any wish to anyone she consider as worthy. So, the locals celebrate her birthday each year, trying to please the Maiden in order for their wishes to get granted by her."

"But, that was just old wives tale." Erwin added. "There really was no enchanted Maiden to begin with."

"But, maybe there was!" Hange answered in a very positive tone. "And she happened to grant someone's wishes that night."

"And whose wish could that be?" (F/N) asked. "Don't tell me she granted my death wish, because if that's the case, she really messed up big time."

"Not you! Our (F/N)!" Hange said, then grabbed (F/N) by the shoulders. "She was frustrated that her request was denied! I know how spoiled she is sometimes. Maybe she just wished to be someplace else!"

"Hange, if that's the case, then,..." Erwin said, his voice sounding ominous. "Instead of (F/N) here dying, she was  transported to our world for our (F/N) to get to that someplace else you mentioned. That place where she came from."

"Don't tell me,..." Hange breathed helplessly, absorbing all the incredible information.

The two looked at (F/N), and she knew they were thinking what she was thinking right then.

"I think we now know where our (F/N) is." Hange said. "(F/N), she's in your world. You are switched!"

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Of Bullets and Big Buck Hunter

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~2300

Warnings: Language, as always, but this one is pretty tame. 

Written for @reigningqueenofwords Aim to Misbehave challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in this :) love me some Firefly. My prompt was  “Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

“The usual?” Katie asks, before you can even flop down onto your stool.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” you say. “How’s your momma doin’? Any better today?”

“Oh, you know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” you grimace. You’ve spent it working on a murder case, a fucking grisly one, which is not a normal thing for your tiny town, but Katie doesn’t need to know anything about that. She slides you a Jameson and ginger and you take a grateful sip.

Katie’s wiggling her eyebrows in a way that should maybe be meaningful, but mostly just looks like a seizure.

“What?” you ask. She jerks her head to the side a couple times, then raises her eyebrows and looks pointedly next to you, and you turn and look, which turns out to be a total mistake, because your mouth drops open a bit and you’re afraid your eyes are bugging out like a cartoon character. You get an impression of jaw and stubble and cheekbones, and then he’s turning to look at you. His eyes are green and gold and gorgeous, and you are 100% staring, shit.

“Hey,” he says, and his tongue flicks out over his lower lip.

“Hi,” you squeak.

“Sam,” he says. The hand he holds out for you to shake is strong and rough, and you never knew you had a thing for hands but this particular hand makes you feel feverish in a really nice way.

You manage to croak out your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “You live around here?” He has dimples. Like cute little Shirley Temple dimples.

“Yup, born and raised,” you say, sorta wishing it wasn’t true. “How about you?”

“Just passing through,” he says, and you try to fight your disappointment. “My brother and I travel a lot. Here for business.”

“What do you do?”

“We’re hunters,” he says. You get the distinct impression you’re being lied to, because who the fuck makes a living as a hunter, but you don’t press it.

“Bet I can still beat you at Big Buck Hunter,” you say. He grins.

You win the first game, which is sort of a miracle, because you’re so distracted by him you can barely think straight. He’s just so tall, and he smells fucking great, and it’s sorta just not fair how attractive he is. On top of all that, he’s funny, and every time you laugh, he smiles like he’s proud of himself, and his dimples do a thing.

“I’ll get another round if you’ll give me another chance,” he says. His eyes are sparkling. So you dig up some change, and Sam orders more drinks. As soon as his back is turned Katie gives you a thumbs up. You’re just mentally high-fiving yourself for not doing anything too stupid yet.

You get your ass handed to you in the second game, which doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Maybe he wasn’t lying about being a hunter. He definitely knows his way around a gun, even a little plastic gun that looks flimsy and ridiculous set against his broad shoulder; there’s something kinda scary about how capable his hands look.

“I guess we need to have a tiebreaker,” he says.

“I’ll get drinks,” you say. He’s looking at you, smiling, with his head tilted, like the world’s sexiest puppy.

You’re halfway to the bar when you hear the rumblings of a fight about to break out: an indignant, “Hey, man!” and what sounds like a whole bunch of macho bullshit. You turn around with a sigh. Sure enough, it’s two of your regulars, guys you’ve had to book for public intoxication (and, in one case, urinating in the public park’s sandbox, which...gross) on more than one occasion.

To your surprise, Sam’s making a beeline for the little cluster of men.  

“Trust me, you don’t want to do this,” you hear one of them saying, a stranger, but then he gives Sam a look, and you realize this must be his brother. He looks familiar in a way that’s going to make you crazy if you think about it too much.

“Hey!” you bark from across the room. Craig and Turner’s heads turn to you, fast, and you give them your Scary Cop face. Turner mumbles something, but they’re backing down, walking away. Good. Sam gives you a quizzical look. You realize it must look funny, those two slinking away from little old you, and you smile to yourself.

Sam and his brother have a quick, muttered conversation, and then Sam starts walking back to you. He’s frowning. 

“My brother wants to go,” he says. You’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the regret on his face, which is all sorts of flattering.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” you say.

“I, uh-” he starts, and the way he shifts his weight and shoves his hands into his pockets is 100% adorable. “I’ll be around for another night or two. Rain check on the tiebreaker?”

“Yeah,” you grin. He programs your number into his phone, and smiles at you over his shoulder as they’re leaving. You wonder if you’re blushing in a cute, delicate sorta way or in a tomato sort of way. Probably the latter.

------

You’ve been at work for exactly one hour, and you are ready to scream. You’re pretty sure your head is going to explode. And sure, you stayed out a little too late last night, what with the gorgeous stranger who got your number!!!, but that gorgeous stranger is honestly the only good thing in your entire life at the moment. All hell seems to have broken loose, because nobody can make head or tail of this murder case, and you’ve spent the morning wading through paperwork.

At this point you might not even be mad if your head exploded. Maybe then it’d hurt less.

“...FBI,” comes a low, familiar voice from outside your office. You half-hear an exchange that sounds like even more paperwork headed your way, and then there’s a knock on your doorframe.

“Come in,” you say absently, still absorbed in the form you’re filling out, trying to figure out how exactly to describe the way the victim’s heart was ripped out without sounding like a complete psycho. You hear the door click closed, and you look up.

Sam. Sam wearing a suit. And yeah, okay, that’s definitely the best thing you’ve seen all week, but what the fuck are Sam and his suit and his ridiculously attractive face doing in your office?

And then you look next to Sam, at the man you assume is his brother, and you do a double take. He looks so damn familiar. You can’t place his face, and now you’ve been staring for a couple seconds too long...but he’s staring at you the same way, brow furrowed over bright green eyes (yeah, you notice his eyes, because apparently the gorgeous gene just runs in the family) and your headache intensifies.

“Shit,” the brother says suddenly, his face draining of all color, and just as suddenly, you remember.

“Hands up,” you say, and you have your gun trained on him before he can blink. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”

Sam is looking from you to his brother and back again, completely mystified.

“Dean? Do you guys know each other?” he says. And then, to you, “You’re a cop? Why didn’t you tell me you’re a cop?”

“First of all,” you say, through gritted teeth, “I didn’t not tell you. You didn’t ask. Second, your brother is about to be under all sorts of arrest, so I’d suggest shutting up.”

“I can explain-” Dean says.

“Dean, please explain why the pretty cop is pointing her gun at you,” Sam says, with the bitchiest bitchface you’ve seen this year and the tone of someone talking to a very slow toddler.

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets,” Dean says gingerly.

“You shot her?” Sam asks.

“No, I shot him,” you say. You can’t really help the note of pride that creeps into your voice. It had been a good shot, even if it had (obviously) not done its job.

“I was a demon,” Dean says, as if that explains everything. Sam rolls his eyes. You shake your head, trying to clear your ears, because you can’t have heard that right.

“Come again?”

“I think we need to have a conversation,” Sam sighs, and you give him your best “no shit” look. “I promise, we can explain everything. Here, you can handcuff Dean to the chair, if that’ll make you feel better, just give me a chance.” Dean glares at him, but sits down slowly with his hands raised. He doesn’t struggle when you cuff him.

You train your gun on Sam instead, and he winces, but also looks a little impressed.

“Talk.”

“Okay, so...we’re not exactly FBI agents.”

“No shit.”

“Well, what I told you at the bar last night...that was true. We’re hunters. Except we don’t hunt deer, we hunt monsters.”

You blink at him silently a few times.

“Ghosts are real. So are vampires, ghouls, all sorts of monsters you’ve probably never heard of.”

“Why in hell should I believe you?” you finally ask. 

“You’ve had some unusual deaths in the last week, right?” Sam asks. Your head is spinning, but you manage to nod. “We’re investigating those. We think it was a werewolf.”

You look from Sam to Dean and then up to the ceiling, saying a silent prayer: whoever is out there, please save me from these raving motherfucking lunatics, amen.

“Hey, Cas, I think someone is praying to you,” Dean says with a little smirk.

And then, without any warning, there’s a man in a trenchcoat standing in your office, and it’s only because of years of training that you manage not to scream. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“What did you do this time, Dean?” the man asks, eyeing him impatiently.

“Dude, seriously? She’s freaked enough,” Sam says. Dean looks smug, like this might be retaliation for shooting him and handcuffing him to a chair.

“This is our friend Castiel,” Dean says. “He’s an angel. Angels are also real. Proof enough?”

Castiel raises a hand awkwardly. “Hi. I’m sorry for startling you.”

“Huh,” you say. It comes out all weak and shaky.

“Dean, try not to be such an asshole,” Castiel says. He rolls his eyes and vanishes.

“You’re taking this really well,” Sam says. In spite of everything, the warmth in his voice sends a rogue butterfly flapping through your stomach.

“Your brother is a demon.”

“Was!” Dean corrects.

“Your brother was a demon,” you say to Sam. He nods encouragingly. “Now he’s not?” He nods again.

“I promise, the thing you met was not Dean,” he says. “If you shot him now, he’d die.”

“Let’s not test that theory, though,” Dean says hurriedly. “You saw my eyes, right?”

“Black,” you croak.

“Yeah. That’s what demons look like,” Sam says. You stare at him stupidly. 

The truth is, it makes entirely too much sense, and in spite of yourself, you’re starting to believe him. You’d always wondered about those creepy-ass eyes...and about the round you’d put right through Dean’s heart, which didn’t even slow him down.

“We can help you find the werewolf. We’re sorta experts.”

You squeeze your eyes closed for a moment.

“I need a second. Or, like, a thousand seconds.”

“As long as you need,” Sam says. His voice is like goddamn velvet.

“If you guys can help with the murders-” you say slowly, and you’re hearing your own voice as if it’s far far away, and you really can’t believe what you’re saying, but- “then yeah, we could use your help. The deputy out there can show you around.”

Both of them make near-identical expressions of shock, and for a moment it’s incredibly obvious that they’re brothers.

“Seriously?” Dean asks. You shrug.

“Explains some of the shit I’ve seen,” you say.

Sam is grinning at you, looking like he just won the lottery or some shit. “You...took that well,” he says, pushing his hair behind his ears nervously.

“I’m pretty sure I’m insane and so are you,” you say evenly. “But it’s worth a shot, right?”

“We won’t let ya down,” Dean says. “Can I be uncuffed now?”

Sam watches you fiddle with the key. “Are you going to come with us? Show us the scene?” he asks.

“No,” you say. “I told you, I need a second. And possibly a Klonopin.”

He looks disappointed.

Dean bolts the second he’s uncuffed, saying, “See you at the car, Sammy.” He seems like he wants to be as far away from you as physically possible.  

Sam lingers, pausing at the door.

“Do you still want to get a drink later?” he asks tentatively.

“Do you still want to get a drink with me?” you ask, more than a little surprised. “I mean, I shot your brother...”

“Honestly? That makes me like you more,” he says, and those dimples are on full display. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

You’re grinning, and probably blushing like a tomato again. He seems to have that effect on you.

“He did,” you say. “And I’ll definitely need a drink, the way this day is going.”

“See you later, then.” He smiles at you one last time and leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

You collapse into your desk chair and take a couple deep breaths.

Demons are real. A cute guy wants to take you out.

The world is a strange place.

.

.

Sequel is HERE. 

[davebowlin]

The Turtle God

The only pleasure I’ve found in the past few years has been staring at the lily pads that float atop the water in this little pond. Their calm swaying to the rippling water soothes this eternal ache in my heart, breaks the sorrow of my mind and gives me a few precious moments of relief. It’s the simplest things that can keep a man sane when everything else is madness.

Perhaps madness is too strong a word, but you’ll have to decide that yourself. Am I mad? Am I insane? Clearly. So are you. No? Prove me wrong. Do you tear the little tags off the mattresses even though it is against the law? Do you curse while cutting the grass, and immediately afterward turn the sprinkler on, causing it to grow again? Madness, you can’t deny it. Only the insane have need of mattresses with tags that read Do Not Remove This Tag.

I wasn’t always insane, hard as that is to believe now. My daughter and my wife pushed me over the edge of sanity three years ago, and every day since then has been a struggle. They didn’t do it intentionally, don’t misunderstand me. It wasn’t their lives or actions that brought about my understanding of sanity and the acceptance of the insane.

It was their deaths.

Three years can seem like an eternity. Maybe it is an eternity, and the passage of time is an illusion where all the insane people of the world play a game of make believe. A game called normalcy or perhaps adaptability. Civilization, it could be called. Reality could be another name for it. Whatever name we tag it with, the game is still a world of make believe and occasionally someone figures it out.

What do we do with those who break the barrier of delirium, who grasp the concept that all is madness? We lock them away. We give them rubber dolls to play with, straight jackets and padded cells. Insane, we call them. Raving lunatics. We hire medical doctors and mind doctors to study them in a desperate attempt to understand our own mortality. We try to comprehend why these rational people suddenly become psychotic and dangerous. “The poor dear,” we are heard to say. “He lost his wife and child, and now he’s unstable.” Isn’t it obvious? I see it so clearly now. How could I have missed it for so many years? The blindness of civilization, I can only guess. The desperate attempt to rationalize all that isn’t readily explainable.

This, above all, is clearly madness.

Explain to me the rationality of my wife and little girl burning to death. Where’s the sense in that? A faithful wife that loved everyone and an innocent child are murdered by Life and losers and you dare call that sane? I wonder if you would feel the same if it had been your wife and your child that died such horrible deaths. I think you might be the one wearing this jacket and eating your meals with plastic spoons instead of me.

You say I’m crazy, and I haven’t disagreed. Even now you shake your head at me, so sure of your intellectual supremacy. Careful, doctor. As your field is so fond of saying: The line between madness and genius is very thin. I think it’s not only thin, but nonexistent. Beethoven is a perfect example. A man who is deaf and blind writes music that he can’t hear, and we call him brilliant. How can we judge? Perhaps to him it was ludicrous. History teaches that he was a genius. Yet, I wonder what Beethoven thought of himself. I think he knew he was stark raving mad. Why else would a deaf man write music?

Another example for you. Alexander the Great. The conqueror! He strove to conquer the world, and very nearly succeeded. We celebrate his brilliance and greatness, we honor his name as one of the greatest military minds ever. At the same time, by the same standards, we detest the very mention of Hitler. Wasn’t he also a genius? How can one be considered brilliant and the other insane? Surely not by the degree of their achievements.

I grow tired of your questioning, Doctor.

Yes, the lily pads. That’s why I am a guest in this fine establishment, isn’t it? The lily pads. I ache to see them again, though I think I will never have this one small pleasure, and so I am sinking farther and farther into the raging blankness that is madness. He took them away, he took all of them away.

You know of whom I am speaking! Why do you ask me this every day? Would it not prove my insanity to you if I denied it after repeating the same story to you each day? Would you believe me after all this time?

Fine. One more time, and then please leave me. It’s late, and I’m very tired.

There is a pond on Barnes Street. The little brick and stucco houses that surround it cuddle their families within, the typical American middle class neighborhood. Backyard barbecues, baseball games, and bicycles. We lived there, right across the street from the pond, and every Saturday we would go fishing there, though we never caught anything. We didn’t try, really; it was just for spending time together.

Damn you, Doctor Brine! Damn these tears and damn you for making me relive these memories every fucking day! She’s gone, you son of a bitch, she’s gone and she’s not coming back! They’re both gone. Why don’t you just leave me alone?

Just shut up and listen, Doctor. I don’t need or want to hear your analytical bull shit right now. You wanted the story, here it is.

They died in a house fire, but you already know that, don’t you? Two teenagers broke in while I was at work. They were looking for something to sell to get another fix, another shot of that crystal shit everyone’s hooked on these days. More proof that we’re all mad. We live with death just a neighbor away…

They died in the house fire while I was at work. Nothing could have saved them, I’m told. The fire spread too rapidly, and they were tied up in the basement. Woke up to the burglar alarm blaring, but too late, no escape. One of the teenagers cut the alarm circuit though, and the other one started rummaging through the house. Guess he ran across my wife and little girl trying to get out the back door, at least that’s what the police say. Shoved them down in the basement, tied them up with some electrical wire. Police sirens sounded in the distance, and they panicked, set the house on fire to cover their fingerprints, and left. One of the neighbors heard my little girl screaming, Doctor. Heard my wife singing to her at the top of her lungs, trying to comfort her even though she surely must have realized they were going to die. Can you imagine even for a minute what it’s like for me to close my eyes each night knowing that my little girl’s last breath was a scream of terror? Fuck you.

I don’t care.

No. You wanted the story, you’re getting it.

One of the little fucks set the house on fire before they left, with my wife and little girl tied up in the basement. I was called by the police chief to come home, there was a problem. I rushed home to find it ruined, and my wife and little girl already being taken to the morgue. The charade of sanity and the little house with the perfect family was shattered forever. I don’t pretend anymore. There’s no reason. How can people kill like that, Doctor? How can they murder innocent kids and women? They’re in prison, I’m told, but they’re still breathing. People like that, Doctor, people like that have a hole in them somewhere, probably where their hearts are suppose to be. A murder hole, I guess it’d be called. That’s all it’s good for anyway, just a dead, empty space that allows them to rip families apart, to murder people just to get high. And you call me insane? I wonder about you, Doctor, you and the rest of the world, sitting out there so sure of your safety and sanity. You never know, Doctor, you just never know.

My family was murdered and I was left with nothing. As the weeks passed, I couldn’t stay away from where our house had been, but I couldn’t stand to look at it either. So, I started sitting on the bank of the pond, watching the lily pads float back and forth on the water. So gentle. They remind me of an angel’s dancing steps: soft, peaceful and calming. I’d stare at them for hours at a time, heedless of the weather or the time of day. It was the only place I could feel close to them, and I needed to feel them with me, my wife and little girl. How’s that for crazy, Doctor? Oh, normal, you say. I guess I should have known. Anything that appears crazy isn’t, and what doesn’t, is.

Anyway, that’s when it happened.

I went back to the pond one Saturday night, just as I had almost every day for two years. I got out of my car, looked across the pond – but there were no lily pads. They were gone, every one of them. I started screaming, and everyone in the neighborhood came running. I guess they thought someone had fallen in the water, I don’t know. But they all came running.

“Where are they?” I was in hysterics by this time. I guess I looked insane just then. How ironic. “Where are the lily pads?”

Everyone looked at me, then at the pond.

After a few seconds of confusion, Fred Dallents spoke up. “What lily pads?”

I couldn’t believe it. They were gone, and everyone was looking at me like I had lost my mind. “The lily pads! The lily pads that have been all over this pond since before any of us even lived here! The fucking lily pads! Where are they?”

Mothers pulled their children closer to them, and started backing away. The men looked apprehensive, and began eyeing each other nervously.

“Ray,” Fred said, “there’s never been lily pads in that pond.”

“What?” I screamed. “What! How can you say that? I’ve been coming here for the past two years to watch them. Jan and I fished in this pond for three years before that! Don’t tell me they weren’t there! I’ve seen them a thousand times!” Strange looks from my neighbors and a few muffled tears from the children brought my temper under control. “Fred, they were there yesterday, I swear to God. They’ve been there for as long as I can remember, and now they’re gone–“

That’s when I saw Him. His eyes were there, right there in the open. How I could have missed them before is a mystery to me. Two yellow eyes, full of the wisdom of the ages. Patience was what I saw there. And peace. My voice caught in my throat, and I could only stare at Him. Slowly, He swam to the edge of the pond where I was standing, and then He raised His head out of the water.

“It’s okay, Ray. They can’t see me, or hear me. I can hear you if you’d care to talk.”

The voice was in my mind, but it rang as loud and clear as the voice of a minister bleating about damned souls screaming in hell’s darkest pit. Seconds passed, and I noticed that everyone was staring at me again, and trying to see what I was looking at. A giant turtle, utterly invisible to everyone but me.

“What are you?” I managed after a while. I wasn’t paying attention to the crowd now; my mind and eyes were completely fixed on this turtle that was smiling at me with what seemed sadness in his eyes.

“I’m the Turtle God.”

“The Turtle God? What’s a turtle god?”

“I am. I protect and maintain the turtles around the world. I am their god.”

My mind did somersaults. I really thought I was going crazy then, but as I’ve told you, that moment was when I realized that we’re all mad. My neighbors were hearing my side of this conversation, and thought I was going insane from grief. How could I be talking to a god, much less a turtle god, if I weren’t crazy? What strikes me odd is that I’d never considered that there could be such a thing as a turtle god before. Why not? We go to church and worship a god, don’t we? Why not a protector of turtles? I think it proves once again that we are indeed insane, the whole lot of us. After all, I don’t see turtles killing each other in the name of their god. Only humans. Makes one wonder, doesn’t it?

In that moment of clarity it all made sense to me. We’re all insane, and we’re all blind.

“Do you know what happened to the lily pads?” I asked.

“Yes,” came the throaty reply from the Turtle God. “I took them away.”

I was dumbfounded. “Why? Why did you take them away? They were the only thing in the world that relieves my grief. I’ve never harmed you, I’ve never harmed a turtle in my life. Why would you do this to me?”

Patience swam in his eyes. I could feel it washing over me in waves, the patience and compassion of a true god, ageless and full of grace.

“It was nothing that you did, Ray. I took them away to prevent another person from feeling the pain of loss that you’ve felt for the past two years. You see that man standing beside you? His little girl was going to come out here tonight and chase some frogs. She was fated to fall into the pond, and she would have drown.”

He paused, and his eyes focused on a little blond girl standing beside Jake Dickens. Maria Dickens, a nine year old angel. She had been my daughter’s best friend. Tears leaked from the corner of the turtle god’s eyes, and he continued.

“She would have died tonight because she would have chased a frog into the pond. After seeing you suffer because of the loss of your little girl, I couldn’t bear to see it happen to another if I could prevent it.” He looked back at me. “So, I took the lily pads away. They’ve never been here, Ray, as far as everyone else is concerned. I left them in your memory because you enjoyed them so much.”

Anger swelled in my heart, though I’m ashamed to admit it now. “If you’re a god, then why didn’t you save my little girl and my wife? Why did you let them die in that fire?”

The answer was slow, but it was the truth; I’ve no doubt about that.

“I have no control over fire, Ray. Just turtles, and the things that surround them.”

I saw a pain in His eyes then. He would have given his own immortal life to bring my little girl and wife back to me if it were possible. Instead, he did what he could to prevent another man from going through this pain that I live with each day.

That makes Him a god to me, Doctor.

No lily pads, no frogs. No drowning.

I visited Him each day, and spent many long nights talking with Him about various things. I enjoyed His company, and He enjoyed mine. Until I found myself here, talking to you.

It’s been a year, Doctor. I’m ready to go home now. No? I didn’t think so. Please leave me, Doctor. I’ve lost everything, so please leave me now.

* * *

“What do you think, Doctor Brine?”

“He’s a nut, Charlie. A complete madman. Turtle God! Still, I guess losing a wife and a child at one time would make any man a basket case, eh?”

“Yeah, I guess it would. Hey, you wanna go get a beer? The bowling alley’s still open. We could get a few games in.”

“Sure, sounds good. Being around all these crazy people all day stresses me out…” Dr. Brine paused, tilted his head sideways, staring into space. After a few seconds, he laughed and shook his head. “Wouldn’t it be great though. I mean, if there were such a thing as gods watching over us all? Even a Turtle God would be better than no god.”

* * *

There is a pond on Barnes Street, surrounded by brick and stucco houses. A typical American middle class neighborhood, with baseballs, bicycles, and backyard barbecues. Watching over them all is a god, a turtle god. His is a thankless job, but he’s always there, always watching, protecting when he can. Perhaps, just perhaps there’s a god in your neighborhood too.

[ end ]