#If you got any name suggestions I’ll gladly take em

[lustrdustr]

Deer character adopt for @/mroznyy on Twitter! In the end, he chose lovely C~

Here are the first two designs for A and B as well ^^

[sosilliest]

just realized i never did an intro post, so here it is!!

HI!!!! My name is Roddy or Rodimus!

I got into transformers really recently and I want to get into more of the iterations (and make my own… hehehe) but i switch through them quite often! I love G1 and IDW MTMTE despite not having finished either one. Don’t let this discourage you from sending asks from things like TFA, TFP, RID, or literally any other iteration!

I have very little experience with drawing mecha, but i’ve been getting into it ever since i got into transformers so it’ll evolve eventually </3

Drawing Ask Rules!!

I might take a while to get to them but i LOVE asks so feel free to send me some! I always love drawing new characters too, so feel free to send one I haven’t even posted art of yet.

I can try to draw ships, but i’m not very good at drawing multiple characters in one drawing. I want to practice though so this is quite encouraged!

What i WILL do:

Suggestive art

Angst

Y/N or “viewer” art

OCs!!! feel free to send em in and I’ll gladly try my hand at them!!

pretty much anything unless it’s on my Wont do list… which, speaking of..

What i WON’T do:

Hardcore NSFW/Fetish/Kink stuff! No issue with people who do obviously just not what I want to post on my blog ^^

Gore (things like blood and whatnot are alright!)

minimus ambus art (THIS IS A JOKE!!!)

If you have any questions about this list, don’t be afraid to comment, dm or send an ask!

TY FOR READING!!!

[wanderinginksplot]

If you're still taking requests, can I request either Echo or Tech with hurtReader + fluff? 👀

(your writing is amazing and it melts my heart sndnfjdjdb)

Hi, friend! Thank you for the compliment - you're so sweet! I went a little lighter on the fluff than I meant to, but this is what I ended up with. Thanks for the request! Enjoy!

Tech + Injured Reader + (Minor) Fluff

*WARNING: Slight mention of gore. Nothing graphic, but a head's up.*

Watching the Havoc Marauder touch down was a ritual you followed every time the Bad Batch went anywhere without you on board. Tech liked to believe he was an excellent pilot, but you were of the opinion that flying took more than encyclopedic knowledge of a ship’s internal systems. It took instinct, a feel for the ship’s personality, and a good bit of luck to fly in a war zone.

Tech disagreed vehemently, but you had been assigned to them for a reason. Even if he had found your belief in luck - okay, slight obsession with luck - to be ridiculous, Tech admitted that you were an excellent pilot. It hadn’t been enough for you to accompany them on their mission, but it was something.

The real problem was that the members of the Bad Batch were insanely protective of anything or anyone they saw as ‘theirs’. Privately, you thought it was because they hadn’t had any personal belongings on Kamino. And they definitely hadn't had friends outside of their group. Unfortunately for you, you were also considered ‘theirs’ now and the Batch could be… restrictive when they felt you could be in danger. And since you were assigned to help them fight a literal war, you were always in danger and they were always protective. Especially Tech. You had been dating in secret for a few weeks now - too short a time for anything serious, but Tech let you take absolutely zero chances.

“Sir, we need to get you inside,” one of the troopers on deck told you, his light touch to your arm pulling your attention away from scanning the star-littered space above the hangar bay. The trooper's regulation armor looked oddly plain to you, even with the medic's symbol and the touches of gray that told you he was a member of the Wolfpack.

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, partially to stall and partially because your luck senses were tingling.

“That isn’t important right-”

“Please?” you asked again. It was another quirk of luck. If a trooper touched you, you needed to know their name or they ended up dying. Statistically, you knew that probably wasn’t true, but who really wanted to mess around with fate if they didn’t have to?

The trooper blew out a sigh that crackled his annoyance through the speakers of his helmet. “Curl, sir. We really should be-”

“I’m sorry, Curl,” you apologized, interrupting the poor medic again. “I got separated from my team and I need to see that they’re back okay before I can leave. Does that make sense?”

“What team isn’t back yet?” Curl asked, seeming concerned. “I thought Commander Wolffe said that everyone had checked back in?”

“I’m with the Ba- with Clone Force 99,” you told him, changing your explanation to use the group’s official name at the last minute. Professionalism never hurt anyone.

“You’re with the Bad Batch?” Curl asked, sounding impressed despite himself. Without waiting for an answer, he gave a curt nod and lifted his wrist toward the speakers of his helmet. “Sergeant Sinker, Medic Curl.”

“Sinker here,” a voice answered immediately.

“Do we have an ETA on Clone Force Nine-Nine?”

“Hold.”

“Copy.” Curl glanced at you and you nodded to show that you were following the conversation.

“Curl, bridge says they’re inbound, expected to hit the hangar in about a minute.”

“Copy,” Curl said again. “Thanks, Sarge.”

“I’d stand clear,” Sergeant Sinker warned. “The good pilot isn’t on.”

“Are you the good pilot?” Curl asked you. You swore you could hear a smile in his voice.

You smiled back and nodded. “That would be me.”

“Understood, I’ve got the good pilot with me,” Curl replied over his comlink. “We’re gonna spectate, make sure they don’t scratch the paint job.”

“There’s no reason to worry,” Sinker said consolingly. “The GAR stopped springing for paint two months ago. There’ll be none left on that ship.”

Curl laughed aloud at that, shaking his head.

“Cut the chatter,” a harsh voice reprimanded. “This is an official channel. Save your jokes for the clubs on the Triple Zero, Sergeant.”

“Yes sir, Commander,” Sinker agreed chipperly.

The Solidarity’s deck shuddered as the hyperdrive activated, ready to take off as soon as the Havoc Marauder landed, and you stumbled with the movement. Curl caught you - his grip uncomfortable given the harsh plastoid planes of his armor - and shook his head.

“We really need to get you inside, sir,” Curl said again, sounding reluctant but concerned. “You have an appointment in the medbay with me, and I’ll be very offended if you’re late.”

You were about to point out that he would be late, too, when the Marauder zoomed up and around the Solidarity, clearly following a path to land.

“Wait, they’re right there,” you protested. “Give ‘em ten seconds to land and a bit longer for me to gloat, then I’ll gladly go to the medbay.” Curl hesitated and you pressed your advantage. “I’ll be a model patient, Curl. No arguments, no debates, no complaining.”

“I never believe anyone when they say that,” Curl said dryly, “but I guess you’ll survive without treatment for a little while longer.”

“Thanks, Curl!” your enthusiasm was a little… off… but you blamed it on the pain you were finally beginning to feel.

Tech was flying, you knew that beyond a doubt. Not only was he the only person allowed to fly, but the landing performed by the small cruiser was proof that the wickedly intelligent trooper was behind the controls.

As soon as they had landed, Wrecker burst out of the side door. “Ha! Told ya we would make it back in one piece.”

“More luck than skill, that,” Crosshair countered sourly, slouching from the door as well with Hunter behind him.

“As I said multiple times, everything was under control,” Tech disagreed. He caught sight of you and started in your direction, eyes taking in the way Curl’s gloved hand was still gripping your bicep.

“There, you saw ‘em,” Curl muttered to you. “We really need to go now.”

“I beg your pardon, but where exactly are you trying to go?” Tech asked sharply, glancing between the two of you.

“Medbay,” Curl replied, slipping into the vocal brevity of a career soldier. “Your pilot was injured, but wouldn’t accept treatment until you had touched down.”

“Luck, you know,” you told Tech, who was already scanning your form with his goggled gaze. You smirked at him and shrugged off Curl, who seemed ready to tow you to the medbay himself. “Also, statistical likelihood be karked! I stayed in the ‘safest possible place’ like you told me and I’m the only one who ended up injured! You should listen to me from now on.”

“What?!”

“Injured?”

"How? Where?"

The rest of the Bad Batch had surrounded you and Curl in a moment, all asking different variations of the same question. Hunter’s voice cut through them all. “Trooper, why is she not in the medbay?”

Curl held up his hands as if despairing of the entire situation. “Sorry, Sergeant. Your pilot refused to leave until we saw your ship land. It would be a big help to me if you would just issue an order to report to the medbay so I can start treating the injuries.”

For all that he liked to take a laid-back approach to non-combat leadership, Hunter took the safety of his team seriously and you knew he was about to do as Curl had suggested.

“It’s not even that bad an injury,” you argued before Hunter could speak. “I just got hit with some debris."

You tugged up the rough, canvas-like material of the uniform pants you wore while you weren’t actively flying and showed them your lower leg. You were busy looking at the faces of the Batch rather than the injury, but you knew something was wrong when Tech swore. Tech never swore.

With a frown, you glanced down at your leg. Your mind refused to make too much sense of things, but you saw smears of crimson and a pale flash of something before the dizziness returned worse than ever.

Fortunately, Curl caught you before you could actually fall and Wrecker scooped you up a moment later. He was already muttering soothing nonsense as he lifted you, and it was almost enough to keep you from noticing the pain. “All right, here we are. Everything is fine. Just don’t puke on me.”

“Medbay,” Hunter ordered severely. “Now .”

“Yes, sir,” you agreed, your voice more weak than you liked.

“Finally,” Curl muttered.

“Tech, go with them,” you heard Hunter say from a rapidly growing distance.

There was a sound of jogging steps, but when you tried to look for Tech’s familiar face, the Solidarity leapt into hyperspace and you felt like you might actually pass out.

“What will treatment consist of?” Tech asked. He was trying to mask his worry by being professional, but you could hear a hint of it in his voice.

“Some stitches, probably an antibiotic shot since the debris was metallic, and a check of the nerves in the area of injury,” Curl answered easily. The lack of concern from the medic was comforting in a strange sort of way.

The silence hung for a few moments, interrupted only by the sound of everyone’s footsteps. Eventually, Tech admitted, “I should have been able to calculate the risks more closely. This never should have happened.”

“Aw, how were you supposed to know?” Wrecker asked loudly.

“That’s right,” Curl agreed. “This is war. Unexpected variables are the norm and there are no safe spots. My only advice is to take all of your people with you. After all, your pilot accepted the assignment to be part of your team. Trying to keep people out of the action never works. Take the lesson, learn from it, and make adjustments in the future. You don’t need to do anything more than that.”

“He’s right,” you agreed, the sentiment muffled against Wrecker’s broad chestplate. “Let me do my job and trust that I’ll do everything I can to keep us all out of danger.”

You blindly stuck your hand out behind Wrecker’s back, searching until you connected with Tech’s familiar fingers. His grip was hesitant but steady, and you gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“It’s probably true,” Curl said, apparently backing you up. “Pain is like a truth serum. And with that gash… it’s probably the truth. Even if you did lie about being a perfect patient.”

You chuckled at that, despite the discomfort from your injury, and relaxed a bit as you felt Tech press a kiss to the back of your hand.

---

A/N - This chapter could realistically be called 'Ink will do anything to avoid using the y/n designation'. For those who are unfamiliar, Curl is my OC medic for the Wolfpack and you can read more featuring him in Just for Kix on my masterlist. As always, I'm still taking requests! Thanks again, Anon, for this idea and I'm sorry again about skimping on the fluff! If you want me to rewrite or expand on it, please feel free to let me know.

[devildomdoofus]

Winter Storm:Part 2

Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

WARNINGS:

‼️contains spoilers from chp. 16‼️

[[angst, cursing, anxiety, fear/terror, depression, near death experiences, hypothermia, dehydration, fainting, severe pain, cliffhangers, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suggestive themes, if I missed any - please let me know!!]]

Author’s Note:

As you already know, I will forever apologize for my sluggishness but I hope that when I do get to posting, it is worth the wait 😣 I’m particularly proud of these pieces, especially Beel’s and Belphegor’s... the angst was fun to write and helped me let off some steam! Forgive me, but Asmo is kind of hard to write for as we’re practically polar opposites 😭 OH!! Since this is the final piece to my “Winter Storm” puzzle, I’ll be needing more requests so if you’ve got something on your mind that you wish to bring to life, send ‘em my way and I’ll do my best to help make it come true!! I’d love to hear what you lovely individuals have rattling around in your brains✨. As always, thank you kindly for your patience, your generosity and support, and thank you very much for hyping me up to write and continue writing. You’ve helped me in more ways than I can count. Stay ruling them all, MCs ❤️

- DevildomDoofus

Prologue/Part 1:

Asmodeus:

It was difficult letting you go on an adventure without him, especially since you were taking the camera with you and he was all dolled up to the nines, looking way too good to not be in the pictures you were going to take... but then you offered him a reward he simply couldn’t refuse, IF he were to be patient. You took him by the hand, gazed into his beautiful eyes, and whispered low enough that he had to lean in close to hear your proposition. “Wait for me here and when I get back, we can dip into the hot tub and sip our favorite drinks until we’re pruny.” He practically kicked you out of the door so that you could hurry back and fulfill your promise.

In the time that you were gone, he busied himself with intricately arranging yours and his belongings until he felt you’d be proud with his eye for organization. By then, you hadn’t returned in the time he felt you‘d said you’d be back but... if he went out looking for you now, he might not get to be warm and bubbly with you later on and damn it, he was going to get that time with you. Once again, he tried to find something to keep his mind off of saying ‘the devildom with it!’ and going after you anyway. He flipped through magazines, scrolled on his D.D.D., sang and danced to his favorite human songs on the radio, but eventually, all he could think about was you. Wondering if you were ok, if you were having fun without him, what kind of pictures you might be taking to show him later... “Ok, that’s it. MC, sweetie, you’ll just have to forgive me.” He donned his comfiest and cutest winter trend setter, lathered the remaining exposed skin in protective lotions and creams because he simply CANNOT have his skin cracking or breaking, and stepped out the door to come find you- “Unholy shit...” The sky had darkened and the wind had picked up immensely. This is not good. For him, his skin, and much less you. He had to find you and fast. He spotted markings on the trees and the piles of stones nearby and he tilted his head. He knelt down to pick up a stone and eyed it a moment before he brought it to his nose for a quick sniff. It smelled of the lotion he had given you on one of your birthdays and for a brief moment, his heart flutters. You wore it constantly because it reminded you of Asmo and whenever you were feeling down, you’d take a whiff of yourself to feel closer to him and whatever was bothering you would instantly vanish. You told him this and he never forgot it nor did he ever let you hear the end of how happy it made him. Emotional in nature, Asmodeus started to tear up a bit as his fear of losing you increased. If he couldn’t find you soon, you’d surely be in danger if you weren’t already. He continued after you like a bloodhound, following you primarily by scent as his vision was becoming obscured by the blinding snow and ice. In addition, he would call out your name, hoping that by some unholy miracle, you’d hear his voice and come trudging through the snow into his arms. Today, he wasn’t so lucky.

Before long, your trail of markings and scent waned into nothingness and he came to a halt. “No, no, no, noooo!!” He turned in circles, sniffing until it hurt to do so, desperately trying to pick up your scent again but it never came. “Damn it!!” he cried as he dropped to his knees, a bit exhausted and heavily defeated. He couldn’t catch the tears before they trickled from his eyes so instead, he held his face in his hands and let them go. How could he have let this happen? The only one he could love more than he loved himself was probably stuck out here alone, terrified, and most likely hanging on for dear life but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it because he couldn’t find you. He was so overcome by his feelings of weakness and hopelessness that he almost missed the echo of your voice crying out through the storm. Almost.

He perked up in an instant, stumbling back to his feet before chasing the sound and calling after you. “MC?! Where are you, love?!” Although there was no reply, he continued in the same direction with your scent having picked up, until he came across the makeshift shelter you held up in. As he crawled in and got closer to you, he came to a complete stop before his jaw dropped to the floor and heart concaved within his chest. You were lying there like-... like you had been lying once before like a broken porcelain doll, abandoned and forgotten by it’s owner. He covers his mouth with his hand and began to cry once more, only this time in much more pain. Crawling over to you, he takes one of your hands in his and brings it to his quivering lips, gingerly kissing your hand before taking the rest of you into his embrace. “Oh MC... My sweet, sweet MC,” he whispers through his tears, “I’m so sorry.” The lump in his throat strangles the words that try to come out. “So very sorry.” He clutches you tighter, leaning his head against yours and rocking you in his embrace, telling himself this is a horrible dream. He never imagined days would come when someone else’s wellbeing came before his and yet the moment you had made a pact with him, he was immediately catching himself thinking of you before he ever came close to thinking of himself. It was incredibly bizarre... and he only wanted more. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that if fewer thoughts of himself meant more thoughts of you, he’d gladly take himself off the pedestal and place you on top instead. Unfortunately, this newfound wondrous feeling wouldn’t last long as the possibility of losing his source of selflessness and humility was rapidly increasing.

“As..moo...” His crying stops and he jerks up, looking down at you. For a brief second, he thought he heard you speak but seeing as you looked the exact same, he assumed he was starting to hear things. Until you said it again. “A..sm..oooo.” Any human would have thought that their ‘cheese had slid off the cracker’ because now, they’re hearing voices from beyond the grave, but Asmodeus knew better. He saw the curving of the delicate lips that your frozen face had allowed and he gasped. “MC!!” He tugs you ever so closer and snug to him that your spine could’ve snapped if he hadn’t of pulled away seconds later to litter your profile with swift and gentle kisses. When he’s done showering you in his smooches of relief, he stands up with you cradled to his chest and flies to back to the cabin to try and bring you back to the MC who once inspired him to be more by thinking of himself less. Besides, you owed him a dip in the hot tub and he wasn’t about to let some horrible blizzard take that away.

Beelzebub:

When you told this man that you wanted to go on a little scavenger hunt to check out the area, he thought you meant you were going to go see what kind of food joints were nearby and he was a little heartbroken at first, thinking you were doing such a thing alone. Without him. The avatar of Gluttony. But you assured him that you two would go together to do that later, and then buy as many groceries, snacks, and take-outs as he pleases as soon as you got back from a quick sight seeing. You also mentioned that you might find some berry bushes on your outing and you would bring some of those berries back for him to try. His cheeks dimpled and he gave you that smile that made your heart do cartwheels in your chest. For his cooperation, you gave him the location of the secret but not so secret because he could smell them anyway stash of your packs of fruit snacks. Ever since the pact, he has never been offended that you had ‘secret’ stashes because he understood all too well why you had to hide them away. His brothers did the same. But even still, you would always, and I mean always, share parts of your food with him so all he really had to do was wait for you to get hungry and surprisingly enough, it was almost as often as he would. You two were a match made in the celestial realm that could eat take the world by storm and he could never really put into words how much that connection that the of you two shared meant to him other than sharing HIS food with YOU.

Thinking of all of this food inevitably made him hungry so he went to your luggage, fumbled around a bit until he found them, and then gobbled down the full packs of fruit snacks, one by one, to hold him over until you came back. He then shuffled over to the couch to plop himself down and wait for your return. Before long, he was shifting and fidgeting in his seat as the cabin started to creak in the uncomfortable silence. He tried watching tv, doing little exercises, and eating more snacks but nothing was helping ease the uneasy feelings he was having.

There were many times in his life where the world around him seemed uncomfortably quiet. Yes, he was technically used to bouts of quietness with Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth himself, being his twin brother and roomie. But typically, Belphegor was at least in the vicinity; either quietly snoring across the room, resting himself against Beel in one way or another, or could be called on and they could reach each other in a matter of seconds. They were never too far apart nor were any of his other brothers for that matter, if Beel needed a distraction. But as life can be a bit unforgiving, Beel was left alone, on occasions, for long periods of time with nothing but his increasingly loud thoughts to keep him company. And mind numbingly loud they were. It would range between his memories from The Great War of battling angels he once called friends, his overwhelming guilt of not being able to save Lilith, a bit of leftover anger with Lucifer for locking his brother away and then lying to him about it, guilty anger over Belphegor’s attempt to kill you, but most of all... he’s bent to the point of breaking over the fact that he knows he has a problem with his sin, more so than his brothers, and yet celestial realm knows there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it and that is what hurts most of all. And when thoughts like these come knocking at- no- BEATING DOWN his door, he either works his body until he crashes from fatigue, goes on binges for months to drown them out, bottles it all up until it terrorizes him in his dreams, or all of the above. That is, until you came along. Whenever you’re around, his mind, body, and soul seem at peace, and no more does he feel that he is starving, or broken and in need of fixing, or so far beyond forgiveness for what he’s done and who he has become that no one should ever be around him again for he’d only hurt them in the end, unable to stop himself. With you around, the quiet nor his own mind are his enemies but rather, potential friends. Indeed, he still has his moments where the ‘darker’ silence still pays him visits but they have become fewer and farther in between. And it’s all because of you.

That being said, this is one of those ‘darker’ silence visits and before it can get any sort of footing in his mind, he shoots up from the couch and heads out of the door to come looking for you.

He noticed little digits in the trees and piles of stones lining up with a trail going in a particular direction. If he remembers correctly, Satan had once mentioned that humans used these types of techniques as a survival tool in order to find their way back or leave a trail to be found if need be. Wow, his human is a smart cookie- “Damn it.” Shouldn’t have thought that. His stomach growled as if it was summoned and he pats his belly in an effort to console it. “I know, I know. I’m sorry buddy. We’ll find MC soon and then we can go eat with them.” It practically purred in response.

Minutes passed of following your trail and the sky began to darken with the wind picking up, followed by the walls of snow and ice. This was unsettling as he knew that humans couldn’t really survive out in weather like this for long, no matter how smart or capable they were. It was even more unsettling that your markings had disappeared and you were nowhere in sight.

“MC!!” he calls after you but you don’t respond. He continues, over and over, calling after you yet only the wind calls back. There was only one solution left and it was one he didn’t particularly like. He could use his ability as the Avatar of Gluttony to enhance his senses and sniff you out but... the problem was in the fact that he only ever used it when he was particularly starving, so inherently, whenever he zeroed in on something, he was going to eat it when he found it. This didn’t bode well for you considering you, in particular, had an exceptionally appetizing scent and it was extremely difficult to ignore, even with a full belly on the rare occasions that it is and out of his demon form. But because he was out of options and time was running out on the possibility of finding you alive, he had no other choice than to shift into his demon form and zero in on your scent. By Lord Diavolo, it was immaculate. The oh so sweet aroma was speaking sweet nothings to his stomach and the growl it emitted could shake the earth, if not hidden away under flesh and bone. He could make out a ghostly outline of your old footprints, beneath layers of snow, leading in one particular direction. He followed blindly, his hunger now at the wheel and in full on stalking mode as an apex predator on the prowl. It lead him in a few circles before ending up at the miniature shelter and by now, your scent was overwhelmingly delectable to his senses. He ducked low and could make out your silhouette in the darkness. Inching towards you, his nails turned to darkened claws and his teeth bared themselves with an impending goal to devour you whole until there was no trace of you but the outline of the snow of where you once laid- “NO!!”

Beelzebub stripped his sin from the reigns of his mind and he dropped to his knees beside you before it could begin it’s feast. He shook his head, trying to completely erase the thoughts of consuming your body and the immensely alluring smell that lead him to you in the first place. He then looked back to you and your drooping, solidified form and couldn’t hold back the tears that started to trickle down his face. “M-MC...?” Your heart would’ve shattered, just as his did in that moment, upon hearing the pain in his voice. “MC, no... please don’t do this.” He takes your head in his hands and turns your vacant, expressionless face towards him to try and get you to wake up. His thumbs trace circles over your cheeks and he’s calling your name but with no reply. The hands that are usually ever so steady and gentle with you, the hands that you’ve come to love with your whole heart, now shake in bits of agony as he pleads with his entire existence for you to wake up and come back to him. You continue to lay there, upon the cold, hard stone with your empty eyes looking right through Beelz’s and he can’t take it anymore. He lifts you into his arms and races back to the cabin with your limbs dangling towards the snow. Once there, he gingerly places you on the couch and flies around the cabin, grabbing the things he needs to get you warm and bring you back to him. He strips you of your wet clothes and dresses you anew in dry pairs. He throws a plethora of blankets over your body, covers your hands with fuzzy mittens and your feet in multiple pairs of fuzzy socks, then wraps a scarf around your neck and adjusts it so that it comes up to just beneath the opening of your nose. Lastly, he tosses firewood into the fireplace and sets them ablaze before settling onto the couch, placing you between his legs and wrapping his large arms around your frame, snuggling his face into the crook of the scarf around your neck. He inhales deeply, taking the sweet scent of you into his lungs before exhaling and letting his tears fall again. His grip on you tightens as he’s torturing himself for allowing this to happen to you a second time, the one and only person who could ever really take all of the darkness in his life into the palm of their hands and toss it to the four corners of the earth like it never existed. Like it never even knew his name in the first place. Now it was his turn to take away your pain, your darkness, your mistakes and it terrified him because as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t feel as if he could, no matter how strong he was or tried to be. The only thing he was certain of was that he had try his damndest to bring you back but then wait for fate to decide the rest.

Belphegor:

To be honest, Belphegor didn’t exactly want to come up to the human world in the first place, for a couple of reasons.

(1): He still has a teeny tiny ginormous grudge against humans, even if he knows Lilith became one and you were one as well. That didn’t mean that the rest of them were not still thorns in his side and most likely will remain so until the end of time. Especially Solomon. I mean really, what is that sorcerer up to half of the time?

(2): There isn’t much he prefers to be doing more so other than sleeping. He’s the Avatar of Sloth, Mr. Sandman himself. It came with the ‘job description.’ So he would just be going from sleeping down in the devildom, his palace of comfort, to sleeping up in that Father awful human world, the bane of his existence. “What a joy that would be,” he thought to himself while rolling his eyes as you were in the midst of going over all of the reasons he should come with you on this trip.

And finally (3): As much as he refuses to admit it, deep down in his heart of hearts, he often times feels guilty for being so low energy while you attempt to do things with him and share your life with him. He’s angry with himself for not being able to do much about it given that it is his sin, other than try his best to spend as much of his waking hours with you as he can for as long as you live, rather than sleeping both of them away. Which is why he inevitably caved and agreed to come with you on the trip. Besides, maybe the human world isn’t so bad when he’s with his favorite one? And maybe the chill from the snowy mountains could be his obvious excuse for snuggling ever so close to you under the piles of blankets and pillows. A smug little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth while he imagines it, eyeing your frame slowly, up and down, before nodding at whatever you had just said... sorry, MC. He wasn’t really listening at the time.

That is how the two of you ended up waving goodbye as you stepped out of the cabin to go sight seeing for a bit and he stayed behind, assuring you he would try his best to stay awake and unpack. We both know how that went

He awoke to the sound of an alarm you had secretly set on his D.D.D. knowing all too well that his promise was empty and growled at the ringing in his ear, nevermind that it was as soft as a loving mother’s lullaby. He jerks up, fumbles his hands in and around the mountain of blankets in search of his device, until he feels the vibrations of it and snatches it from its snug hiding place between his rump and the cushions. The light from it was blinding, having him squint into a frown as he swipes away the alarm. He grumbles, scratching his head through the tuffs of chaos before lifting his intertwined fingers towards the ceiling and letting out a groan, stretching his limbs. “MC?” he calls with his eyes still closed in a grumpy squint. Assuming you simply didn’t hear him, he calls for you again, a little louder, and with no reply for the second time, his eyes finally open and he looks around the empty cabin. He wiggles out of the blankets and walks around, giving the entire cabin a quick once-over, looking for his little, seemingly hard-of-hearing human. That’s odd. You weren’t home and it was-...? He checks his D.D.D. It was about the time you said you would be back. He glances out of a nearby window and frowns. It was swiftly darkening outside and not because of the sun laying down to rest, but due to a vicious storm beginning it’s onslaught. It ticked him off that you hadn’t returned since he felt that you knew better than to leave him waiting for you and it ticked him off a little bit more that now, there was a storm brewing and he had to go out in the cold to drag you back himself before you got yourself killed. Being here was pointless without you and staying awake was quite difficult; Therefore, if you weren’t going to be there with him when he happened to be ‘with the land of the living,’ he would simply go back to sleep... angrily for that matter considering he put time and effort into staying awake for you. He never did that for anyone, not even Beel. So you had better have a good reason for still being out in the cold, soon to be cold storm, or there was going to be devildom to pay. But instead of laying back down to return to his rudely interrupted slumber, as much as he wanted to do so out of spite, he grabbed a coat that was thicker than the one he typically wore and stepped out to come looking for you and then eventually punish you for your transgressions. He sighed as he pulled the hood over his head in an effort to reduce the blasts of ice filled wind and shambled through the rising snow, looking high and low for any traces of you. That’s when he noticed the carvings in the trees and stone piles shaped in an odd fashion. “Ah... not so naive after all,” he mutters to himself and another one of his signature smirks makes its way to his face, but that soon fades as the wind picks up and his line of sight shrinks further and further. This storm was becoming a bit too strong, even in the eyes of a demon such as himself, and that thought alone gave him chills that no blizzard could muster for he knew that this kind of storm was not something humans typically survive in, especially alone. “MC, I swear on Diavolo’s very demon soul that if you’re out here goofing off, you’ll regret the day you came back from my attempt to kill you.” The threat was empty and uttered without any true intention of being carried out. He was simply masking his fear with anger because he felt that his fear would weaken him and you didn’t need someone who was weak, you needed a strong and capable Belphegor to find you and bring you back home, safe and sound... being that you’re still alive.

He followed your trail until it came to a complete stop and with you nowhere in sight, he leaned against a nearby tree, one of the last ones you had marked, and traced his finger along the outline of the markings in the bark. “MC!!” He shouts for you but you don’t respond. He shouts your name over and over but the wind simply swallows them whole. Those fingers he once had on the bark, curled and tightened into a fist and he inhaled deeply just as he was rearing back before delivering an earth shaking blow to the center of the tree, leaving a gaping hole in its wake before the giant finally slunk to one side, toppled to the ground, and sent clumps of snow up in the air. His body shook no longer from the cold, but from the fear and the rage and the guilt overtaking him. He was terrified that he was losing you. Angry over the fact that no matter how hard he was trying, he couldn’t find you, much less save you. And celestial realm only knows how immensely guilty he felt for being the cause of your possible death, both in the past and now. He was shifting in and out of his demon form, his mind and sin arguing over who gets to take the reigns. Regrettably, his sin won without too much of a struggle and he bursts into his demon form onto his hands and knees, and began to scream, balling his eyes right out of his skull. “Please, MC!! For fuck’s sake, I can’t do this alone!! I need you, damn it!! I need you so fucking much!!” The world itself seemed to darken even further as Belphegor poured his breaking heart right out of the newly vacant pit in his chest. Nothing in all of the three realms could pull him from his decent into madness...

...until the sound of your voice makes it way to his ears, past the baying wind and cries of agony. Time itself seemed to stand still and the world around him grew deathly silent as he listened for your voice. He hears it echo from not too far off from where he kneeled. In the time it takes lightning to reach the earth, he has wiped his tears clean off and is now on his feet and bolting in the direction of your voice. That oh so delightful sound of your voice.

He reaches the knockoff shelter that you hid away in and hunches down, making his way to you. As soon as he reaches you, he slows to a stop and places his trembling fingers against your neck, testing for a pulse. It’s dangerously low but his heart lightly flutters because now he knows there’s a chance that you could make it out alive... if he hurries. Refusing to give up, he takes you in his arms and bolts back to the cabin to try and warm you up. If he can save you, he will make the celestial realm seem pale in comparison to the world he will provide for you. If not... Father have mercy on them all.

[kihyuni3]

University Nights (Bang Chan College AU)

So i guess here is some more confident reader x skz because i have been consuming too much skz content recently and I have a lot of free time to write right now

Summary: Chris is the local ladies man and president of his frat. He could have anyone at the university, but when he meets you at a party your confident attitude makes it so he can only see you.

Warnings: Smut I guess (heavy make out)

Word Count: 1,961 (This ended up so long oops).

I tried to make everything as neutral as possible. Im sorry if slipped up somewhere. 

The best part of coming back to university: the start of semester parties. First couple weeks of classes, not many assignments, not many responsibilities, the perfect time to just let loose and go out. 

Your roommates had told you about a party that was supposed to be going down tonight at one of the popular frats. Personally you had never had much interaction with any of them but from what you had heard they pretty infamous around campus and always threw the best parties. As well it always seemed like the sorority girls in all your classes never stopped talking about how hot the president Chris was, though honestly you could not care less. 

All you wanted to do was have fun. Get in at least one good night of fun before you had to go back to focusing on your classes and degree. Right now a frat party seemed like just the place for that. 

Seeing as this probably the last real party you would be going to for awhile you pulled out all the stops while getting ready. Everything that you put on just helped build your confidence even more. Just catching a glimpse of how good you looked in the mirror as you walked passed made you ready to conquer the whole world. Tonight was your night and nothing was going to take that away from you. 

When you come out of your room your roommates are waiting for you. 

“Damn,”  Wooyoung scuffs “Really going all out aren’t you?” You just send him a sly smirk before going to grab your things.

“Leave ‘em alone” Jihyo retorts before heading toward the door “Come on we’ve got to be fashionably late.

Walking into the part it seemed like everyone you passed was looking you up and down. Looking at yourself and your friends you couldn’t deny that you were a good looking group. You all came to make a statement and you were doing exactly that. The party was getting off to a great start and you were ready to own this night. 

Almost immediately after you got your first drink from the kitchen you felt a tap on your shoulder. Two girls had approached you. It was clear that they were interested in you and honestly you didn’t mind. After a few minutes of entertaining their flirting one of the girl grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the living room to dance. 

Throwing a look over your shoulder you watched as Jihyo chuckled into her drink and waved you off as Wooyoung mouthed “Have fun” in your direction before returning to their own business. From the start you knew you probably weren’t going to end up either of these girls, but what was the harm in a bit of careless fun, especially at a party. 

You couldn’t deny that the music was really good. Looking toward the source you saw who you assumed was the DJ watching you as you were dragged onto the dance floor. The lights were dimmed so you couldn’t make out his face to well, but you still sent a smile and a nod in his direction before returning to your new acquaintances.  

How long you had been dancing was a mystery to you, but you were in need of a new drink so you quickly excused yourself from the girls promising to come back in a second. You were just about to enter the kitchen when you thought you heard someone say your name. Turning around you about to check when you ran directly into the back of the stranger in front of you. 

Later you would find out it was Wooyoung trying to catch your attention at that he had watched the whole incident occur. 

Whipping around you see that the stranger had not turned to you yet, to preoccupied with the spilled drink in front of him. You cringed as you realized what you just did, but that didn’t stop you from noticing this mans intimidating figure. He wasn’t much taller than you but he was definitely muscular. Running into his back felt like walking directly into a wall so he must be decently build. 

“Sorry,” you start “I wasn’t watching where I was going” You were expecting an angry frat boy but you were shocked but what you got instead. 

When the man turned you were met with a handsome face and smile, definitely catching you off guard but not enough to knock you off your rhythm. 

“Not a problem” He laughed, showing off a dimple. You took this opportunity to check out the rest of him. An action which you didn’t even try to hide and one that he absolutely noticed. His outfit was clean and stylish and you were correct about his muscular build. You were impressed to say the least.

“I’ll get you a new one.” You say when your eyes return to his, referring to his drink. You went to take a step passed him, but something about you interested him and he just couldn’t let you walk away. Before you could completely slip away from him he grabbed your arm.

“Have we met before?” he starts bringing you back to him. You look at him with a questioning look before deciding to play along.

“I don’t think so,” You start with a smirk “I’m sure I would’ve remembered meeting the most handsome man on campus.” He looked a little surprised by your response, before looking down and chuckling to himself. 

“Well in that case,” He extends his hand out to you to shake “I’m Chris.” You reach out take his offer but as soon as your hand is in his he pulls you even closer to him so that you’re almost against his chest. Clearly he saw your flirting and decided he was going to play right along. It was your turn to chuckle. You were not about to get out flirted by some frat boy, even if he was the president, and very attractive.

“So you’re the infamous Chris I keep hearing about huh?” You bite your lip staring up into his eyes with a teasing look. 

“All good things I hope.” He offers moving his hand from yours to run it gently up your arm. You couldn’t deny that the feeling was nice but you weren’t about to let him know that. 

“Only that everyone want to get in your pants.” You speak with no shame causing him to almost choke on what was left on his drink. You laugh at his reaction and he can’t help but laugh with you. For a moment the energy is sweet and lighthearted giving you a feeling that you weren’t expecting. However, after placing his cup on the nearest flat surface, knowing not to make that mistake again, the energy returned to one that was heavy with flirtatious intent. 

“What about you?” He ventures, checking you out in a similar way to how you did earlier.

“What about me?” You retort.

“Do you want to get into my pants too?” He states just as boldly as you had before. Hand moving from your arm to your waist pulling you even closer than you already were. You take the cue and move your arm to rest on his shoulder, hand playing with the hair on the back of his head. A gesture that he gladly leans into.

“I think I’m warming up to the idea.” You wink at him. 

Next thing you know your being pulled up stairs toward what you assume will be Chris’ room. Looking out over the party below you see that the girls from earlier have moved onto someone else as well as both of your roommates staring at you with raised eyebrows. You shrug at them before returning you gaze to the man before you.

A variety of doors appear before you in the hall but when the two of you catch each others eyes their is an unspoken agreement made that you couldn’t wait. Suddenly you are pushed up against the nearest wall, his lips hot on yours. The kiss was sloppy and tasted like the drinks from downstairs, but in this moment that was exactly what you needed.

His hands roamed your body as his lips devoured yours. One hand pulled him closer by his shirt while the other found it’s way back into his hair. However this time it wasn’t there for a gently caress. Your firm grasp on his hair causes him to gasp a bit into the kiss, giving you the opportunity to explore his neck and shoulders with your lips. 

At this point he was leaning on the wall with his forearm doing everything he could to keep himself from melting into the feeling. The sight gave you even more confidence as you suck marks onto his neck. Something in you wanted everyone to know that you had gotten to do something they had only thought about. 

He let out a low growl as he quickly pulled back slamming his lips back into yours, moving impossible closer and trapping your body between himself and the wall. At this point you could feel the effect you were having on him. His hard on pressing into you through his jeans. The feeling made you smirk into the kiss. 

You let him take control for awhile until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Capturing his bottom lip between your teeth you pull back on it breaking the kiss. Chris rests his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily. The way his hand gripped your waist like he was afraid to let go told you everything you needed to know. 

“I’m thinking that we should move to my room now.” He said as more of a command than a suggestion, but neither of you wanted to be the first to move. The way he kept looking at your lips told you that maybe you wouldn’t be moving after all. Just as you both began to move in to continue where you had left off-

“Hey!” you hear someone call out from the end of the hall near the stairs.Both you and Chris snap your heads in the direction of the voice.

There was Wooyoung, closely followed by Jihyo, neither of whom seemed at all phased by the scene before them. You chuckle before putting your head down, forehead resting against Chris’ chest. 

“We’re heading out are you coming with us?” For a moment you thought about it. Looking back up at Chris, he stared at you with a pleading look. You bit your lip again, chuckling at how desperate he looked. Somehow you ended up with the biggest ladies man at the school wrapped around your finger. 

Giving Chris a quick peck on the lips, you slide under his now fully extended arm before moving toward your friends. The look in Chris’ eyes was almost hurt, but it was over powered by his pure intrigue. Everything about you made him weak, even your decision to leave him just like that. 

As you reach your friends at the top of the stairs, Chris calls after you.

“Wait,” You turn back to look at him, but neither of you move any closer to each other. “You never even told me your name.” You heard your friends laugh behind you. even you and Chris started to laugh realizing the absurdity of the situation. 

“Guess you’ll just have to get it some other time, Mr. President.” You called back, giving him one last playful wink before heading down the stairs and out of the frat house with your roommates. 

You knew this wouldn’t be the last time you saw Chris, and to be honest you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

-

Seeing where this ended off I may end up making a part two so we’ll see

Masterlist

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter Two: Nine Tribes" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse" Part One of Two

You look awful. What happened?

Someone turned my home inside out.

You’re such a pretty kitten, too. I don’t see kittens like you every day. I wonder why.

You don’t see kittens like me every day. When I get done with you, you won’t see anything... anyday.

Maybe it went into the air and never came down. Maybe it went into the ground and never came back up. Maybe someday it’ll show up.

Maybe someday they’ll be back. Personally, I doubt it.

What can be said about a race of individuals?

Does it puzzle you that our natures should be twofold, threefold, yet one?

Do you wonder why the gods, who have decreed a place for each thing, have offered us so many places in one?

I tell you a truth. It is but one of many, but it will serve.

The people kept to themselves, and they respected the land.

Hunters crept into the forests to skin the cats for their beautiful coats, and cats raced through the villages, bearing off children to eat in the night.

Days and nights rang with screams.

When the monsoons came, they carried rivers of blood to the seas.

She was spirited and strong, yet disobedient.

Our lands are cursed!

The serpents’ name is judgment, and they answer the dark calling inside each mortal secret.

Each mortal carries snake seeds inside.

You can do nothing.

I cannot leave my family this way!

It is not your place to change them, or to cleanse their sins.

I do not care about my place!

What can I do? This cannot continue!

If you would make peace, lay with them.

Take wild cats as mates?

Have you decided?

I am wisdom

I am anger

I have the wisdom to call the gods, the anger to fight, and the love to give myself for my people.

The monsoon howled and rain poured down.

We seek out the serpent of corruption and crush its head between our jaws.

She’s slow to rage, but when she does, nothing but total destruction will satisfy her.

They are wiser than their fury suggests.

Listen to them in good spirits and watch the visions they bring.

They bargained their souls away long ago, and cannot be trusted.

It’s said their kind is dead, but I am not certain.

Anything is possible.

It weakens them.

I cannot trust anyone so landless.

They believe they walk alone upon the earth, but they are wrong.

Wise liars and grand tricksters.

Long ago, I’ve heard, they were noble. Not now.

I’ve never spoken to one long enough to learn much, but I’ve heard they keep the sacred places safe.

That is enough to earn my respect.

We are the daughters and sons of the moon.

To anger the jaguar is to turn the jungle against you.

Woe to such a man and his family, for they will slowly starve.

When the whites came, they brought their evil with them.

Vile spirits of disease and mania plagued the humans.

The world went dark.

Their anger was too great.

Many wanted revenge.

Blood must be paid with blood.

But it is just a reflection, nothing more.

What they don’t like, they attack, and they don’t like much.

This peace ended as human settlements and firms began cutting through the rain forests.

Take your demon filth and get out of my home.

Stay, and die.

You take life far too lightly, my friends.

I watch you from far away, but my eyes are too filled with tears for me to dance.

They weren’t strong enough to survive. I’ll drink to their honor, but their dust is not my problem.

Honored brothers, if you need me, I will come.

Where were you when we needed you?

Wandering a trail? How nice.

You’re no longer welcome, brother.

We all do what we must to survive.

If they find happiness in solitude, it is a pleasure I can understand.

Make no mistake; We are older than the pyramids. Older than the Pharaohs.

We were the first. All others are usurpers.

There were gods in those days. If they are gone, I will not weep. We have more freedom without their strictures, anyway.

When need be, we hunted them like rats, but overcome by curiosity, we soon allowed ourselves to become their friends.

Then too proud for our liking. They would have to be punished. And they were.

Great plagues fell upon them.

I will never say we ruled. Why should we rule?

Merely say that we received our due; food, shelter and secrets. Many secrets.

I must say we were impressed.

We defended them in the night.

Slain, or worse yet, turned into blooddrinking ghouls.

This was not, I should add, the worst outcome of the war.

I tell you this secret now, so you will understand our path; We committed sacrilege against ourselves.

You and I suffer today a curse our ancestors earned millennia ago.

There are some shadows that hide secrets too evil for consumption.

Black as midnight, yes?

This is the cost of those endless nights of spying.

We learned secrets that should have been left alone. Worse, we still hunger for them, even now.

Our race is all but vanished, but still we prevail.

One day, we will return to power.

Aside from these gruesome relics, the breed has been extinct for 2000 years.

These ghoulish beasts, now swollen to the size of panthers, live blind in filthy pens.

Occasionally, one might even be allowed to mate with it.

This insult has not gone unrewarded.

A bitter if one-sided war has crept quietly along for nearly 2000 years.

The vampires may receive an unpleasant surprise in the coming decades.

Surprisingly, they have never fled their homeland despite their setbacks and ancient enemies.

Perhaps it’s pride that keeps them rooted to Egyptian soil, or maybe it’s something more.

Some outsiders claim there’s a mystical connection between the tribe and their motherland.

Weird magical rites, including experiments with vampire blood and enchanted human “hosts,” have bred feline offspring from human mothers.

Horrifying tales of women giving birth to cats in Cairo delivery rooms attest that such experiments are occasionally. . . successful.

Only time will tell.

Better death than the serpent’s kiss.

If there’s a viper in your soul, purge it.

The road we walk is treacherous enough alone.

Noble, I’ll confess, but hopelessly rural. They favor their wild sides too much to be as enlightened as they would believe.

Savage, bloodthirsty monsters. How I would love to have one or two around for errands!

It’s said that their kind is extinct, but being “extinct” myself, I find that difficult to believe.

I’ve heard a great deal about them, but they keep to their land and I to mine.

Too obtuse for my tastes.

If their chattering held wisdom, I would gladly listen.

Obnoxious louts who deserve to be shaved. Some day soon, they will be. I’d be pleased to do the honors. Perhaps I shall.

They make lovely pets if you convince them they’re free.

Kid, we don’t just collect secrets, we are secrets.

There’s a lot of folks who’d put us in chains — real ones and magic ones — if they knew we were still breathing, so listen close while I tell you a fairy tale.

It’s important, kid, so shut up till I finish.

A long time ago, the world was a dream. No, I’m not being cute — it was. All our kind were dreamed into existence.

Have you ever seen a dream walking? Well, take a look in a mirror, kid.

Those cold folks needed some company.

Well, those cold hearts turned on us soon enough.

We can be a nasty folk when we set our minds to it, and those who danced with us set themselves apart.

Our secrets got out.

I doubt they did it under their own power.

But we did survive.

There was a price. There always is.

We stay underground. Way underground.

You remember what I said about our ties to passion?

So keep your head down, kid, and never say what you are.

As usual, the legends lie

Messages are hidden in lyrics and chord structures.

Come in with laughter, leave in tears and always keep ‘em guessing

The locals still lock their doors on that night, and no one dares to go a-spying.

She may return to her old ways eventually, but cannot settle into any role for long.

Elusive as they are, they love digging up dirt about others.

Such clothes allow them to be their flamboyant selves and get away with it.

Art is the expression of a dream. And dreams, my friend, are what we are at heart.

Oh, yeah, a lot of help they were when we were stuck.

Shut up, hothead.

At least you’ve still got your own name.

Oh, yes it is fun to play in the dark, but you have to come up for air eventually.

Brutal and mean.

I respect their courage, but lighten up, guys!

Wise. Very wise. When one speaks, listen up.

Damn thing outran my car.

Must be nice.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

MJS Aftermath - SIX FEET The Final Part

It was in silence Miho drove through dim backstreets two nights later, though Kurosawa prattled unnecessary reassurances in her ears through her tiny earbud radio.

“I’m fine, Toru,” she muttered for the seventh time. “It’s like the Chief said - the mole won’t hurt me until he or she is sure the information that might incriminate them cannot fall into the hands of any authority.”

“Still,” he grumbled, in his place of hiding near Miho’s destination. “I feel ill thinking you may be at the mercy of this unscrupulous creature.”

“Shut up, Kurosawa,” Kaga snapped. “Keep comms clear.”

And for once, Miho was glad to hear the acid of Kaga’s voice.

“Don’t worry your heads about this,” Miho told them. “This idiot won’t know what hit ‘em.”

She was early, as was part of the plan, and so was Namba, who she was there to meet and pass on the package she had only just received - presumably sent on the day of Goto’s death.

It had to be somewhere quiet, somewhere other people would not get involved should violence break out, and despite her bravado, Miho actually shuddered a little at the gloom of the dockside warehouse. No one in sight, no one to catch stray bullets, except for the small group of instructors Namba had enlisted for the operation.

Her steps sounded loudly against the moist asphalt, bouncing off concrete walls and worn, metal shipping containers. Slowly, she made her way around the building toward a single door, trepidation growing, twisting knots in her stomach she obstinately refused to show in her expression.

“That’s quite far enough,” a raspy, gravelly voice asserted, and Miho flinched then froze.

The kind of voice that did far too much yelling.

“Chief?” she queried, though she knew it wasn’t him.

“We have contact,” Namba’s voice hissed in Miho’s ear.

“I should be,” the man’s voice came again, oblivious to the voices in Miho’s head.

Slowly, she hazarded to turn her head.

The outline was average except perhaps for the hair, messy waves of ink from crown to shoulders in a decidedly unkempt manner.

“Instructor Nagita?” Miho blinked, mostly for the benefit of the others in case they did not have a clear enough line of sight. “I am supposed to be meeting Chief Namba here. Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

Playing dumb was not Miho’s strong suit, but she tried just the same.

It was then he pulled out a gun - not how Miho would have played it given she’d just given him the opportunity to play along, but anyone who picked a fight with Goto and his people couldn’t really be considered smart.

“Don’t play ignorant with me! Give me the contents of the package Goto sent you,” he demanded roughly, inching a little closer to her, and Miho shuffled back a little, away from the warehouse wall.

“I will shoot you,” he insisted, waving the firearm a little erratically, before a gunshot rang out.

Miho’s breath stalled, her chest clenched and her gaze fixed on the slumping figure of Nagita, who a few seconds later was face down. Trembling, Miho touched her hand to her cheek - wet, warm, fresh blood transferred to her fingers.

“What…?” she stammered out, as a new form stepped from the shadows and claimed responsibility for Nagita’s murder.

“Is that… Chiba?” Soma said through comms.

“The student?” Subaru sought in clarification. “We should move now!”

“Hold,” Namba instructed. “If there are even students involved in this, we don’t know who else may be involved.”

“That student just killed an instructor,” Subaru pointed out. “You think he’s going to hesitate to kill Miho?”

“It’s fine, okay?” Miho breathed, holding both her hands up in front of her. “Just… relax.”

“Kurai knew Nagita didn’t have the guts to follow through,” Chiba announced, his voice contrastingly soft and boyish considering the situation. “But this is my way out of mediocrity, out of obscurity. No one will ever overlook me again.”

“Keep him talking, Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami encouraged. “We’re converging on your position.”

“Well, I think I can say,” Miho began carefully. “If I had met you, before now, I would not have overlooked you… and if I knew your name…?”

“Chiba Daisuke,” he announced proudly - obviously not a seasoned criminal even with fresh blood on his hands.

“And, Mr. Chiba, you ah… you’re working for Kurai then? An enforcer by the looks of it - it looks good on you.”

“Not for, with,” he corrected.

“Oh, obviously,” Miho rushed. “Man of your bearing, I suppose, takes orders from no one… right?”

“Including you, Mrs. Goto,” he smiled, so innocently it seemed so ridiculous he held her at gun-point. “It’s a shame, because I actually liked Instructor Goto…”

“He’s gearing up to kill her too, I’m moving in!” Subaru barked.

“... but,” Chiba continued. “I can’t allow you to blow my cover, so I’m going to have to…”

“FREEZE!” Ishigami shouted, appearing dramatically, and simultaneously Miho let out a squeak as Subaru snatched her around the waist and put himself between her and Chiba.

“Don’t move!” Kaga added, emerging with Soma, their own guns drawn.

“Reach for the sky, scumbag!” Kurosawa exclaimed, and no doubt they all would have facepalmed were the circumstances not so serious.

“It’s over, Chiba,” Namba told him, and indeed, Chiba was now surrounded. “Put down the gun so no one else gets hurt.”

“Get her out of here,” Ishigami commanded of Subaru, and he did not have to be asked twice.

“Hold it!” Chiba barked, uncharacteristically sharp. “Move and I’ll shoot!”

“And in which universe do you think you’ll walk away from this if you do?” Kaga scoffed. “You fire, we fire, and you’re dead.”

“I… I’ll still take one of you with me,” Chiba declared, no longer sounding so confident, his gun hand wavering a little.

In a dramatic crash that blocked Miho and Subaru from Chiba’s line of sight, the door Miho had earlier been heading for opened, and a body tackled the murderous student.

The gun skidded across the ground and was quickly scooped up by Soma, while the others jumped in to restrain the young man.

“Come on,” Subaru urged, but Miho would not be moved, transfixed on the fray of arms and legs.

And she gasped when Chiba was dragged to his feet and cuffed, because with order restored, Miho could see who it was that had intervened.

“The hell are you going here?” Subaru growled, glaring at the man.

“Did you really think I was going to allow you to put my wife in such danger and not oversee her safety myself?” Goto huffed, straightening his clothes.

But his eyes looked beyond his friend to Miho’s blood speckled face, her tear-brimming, lip-quivering expression that broke his heart all over again.

“Get going, dead-man,” Kaga snorted curtly. “You can’t be here.”

“Seiji,” Miho whispered thickly, fighting Subaru’s grip on her unsuccessfully.

“Go!” Subaru growled, grappling Miho as she struggled. “I’ll take care of her.”

“I’ll take care of you if you don’t let me GO!” Miho shrieked, a wildcat now, flailing.

With a broken look, Goto began to back away, mouthing one word before he turned and ran.

“Soon.”

The aftermath dragged on well through the night and into the morning, and at nine Miho was sitting on the couch in Ishigami’s office - still pouting.

“Looks like you could use this,” Kaga declared, dropping a steaming mug of coffee into Miho’s line of sight.

Her eyes rolled up to look at him skeptically.

“If Ishigami sees you in here, you’re toast,” she declared, reaching for the mug… which he then moved out of her reach. “Do that again and you won’t need to worry about him.”

“Oh yeah?” Kaga smirked, holding his ground. “Right now, I could take you with just my little finger.”

“I suggest you keep you little finger, and all other appendages, away from Mrs. Goto,” Ishigami said coldly from the doorway, and Miho used the opportunity to relieve Kaga of the mug. “And remove yourself from my office.”

“So you can move in on her instead? You’ve got no chance, four-eyes,” Kaga dropped, shoving past him on the way out.

Silence settled in the wake of his exit, until Miho sat back down.

“How are you holding up?” Ishigami asked carefully.

“Still mad,” she replied waspishly. “You could have given me a minute with him.”

“As I said before, every moment he breaks cover is a chance for Kurai to discover his deception,” he pointed out, and not for the first time.

Noisily, Miho slurped her coffee.

“A counsellor from the Department will be in contact in the next few days.”

“I don’t need counselling, Ishigami,” Miho grumped. “I need my hus…”

“... husband back, yes I understand,” he filled in, nodding. “And I am sure he feels as anxious for this operation to be as over as you.”

To this, Miho grunted, sculled the rest of the coffee - ignoring the burn - and rolled her neck.

“I’m going home,” she announced.

“Ichiyanagi will drive you,” he informed her. “Chief Namba and I agree you should have protection until such time as the Kurai are neutralised, just in case they…”

“No,” she disagreed.

“I’m actually not giving you a choice,” Ishigami retorted, finally putting his foot down. “You insisted on involving yourself, and now you will put up with the consequences.”

Her jaw worked, but she wasn’t so unreasonable that she wouldn’t accept responsibility for her own actions.

“Fine, I’m leaving now,” she grumped, grabbed her bag, and stalked out.

“So, you’re not going to talk to me forever now?” Subaru sniffed, following Miho up the path to her front door.

Of course - to prove the point - Miho did not respond.

As she slipped the key into the lock, barking greeted her, and she had to grit her teeth not to allow exhausted tears to spill. Ishigami and Kaga bounced up against her the moment she cleared the door, and she gladly sat on the floor to let the greyhound wiggling soothe her weary heart.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Subaru said, walking past the tangle unscathed while Miho snuggled her face against soft, sleek doggy heads.

“Daddy will be home soon,” she whispered to her ‘kids’, before struggling back up.

She needed sleep.

A week ticked by.

Then another.

And while the longing to see Goto never waned, Miho had rather gotten used to having a house-maid-chauffeur-butler-heavy-lifter-emergency-tampon-buying dog-walker. Still, she craved a little alone time, and hatched a plan to give Subaru the slip.

Ishigami and Kaga, complicit in her crime, ran happily beside her as she snuck out through her back yard’s fence. When she had taken enough twists and turns to ensure even a seasoned tracker would have trouble picking up her trail, she headed for somewhere her poochies could play and she could relax.

Even though the weather was cooling, Miho was determined to sit on a very significant patch of grass in the park where it all started. The greyhounds ran laps around her as she ruminated. She pictured the picnic rug upon which they had laid that first ‘test drive’, smiled as she remembered how uptight he’d been in the beginning, how awkward - then grinned when she recalled how he’d surprised her in the bushes.

Heavily, she dragged herself up and headed toward the toilet block, just as she had that day; but she was disappointed when there was no Goto to drag her out of sight and defile her in the best possible way.

“Fuck,” she growled, her mood darkening.

“I’d better do something about this frustration of yours,” a familiar voice said at her back, causing Miho to freeze. “Or you might fall into the arms of that apron wearing hooligan.”

Miho trapped the air in her lungs, afraid that if she drew breath he would disappear; but at the same time, she had to know.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you?” she gasped out, and though she longed to throw herself at him, her body was paralysed.

“I”m sorry I had to do that, Miho,” he apologised, face patterned with profound contrition. “But I’m here now, because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Even if the Kurai kill me tomorrow, it’ll have been worth it.”

In the background, Ishigami and Kaga bounded around the park, amusing themselves, but everything that wasn’t Goto faded from Miho’s world. When his arms closed around her, she drew in a deep breath, filling her senses with the scent of him. Every fibre of her being sang out in joy and relief, and her muscles turned mush.

“If they hurt you,” she whimpered against his neck, finally locking him in her own embrace, “I will burn Tokyo to the ground until every last one of them is destroyed.”

“I believe it,” he laughed, tightening his grip.

Nothing felt as good to him, as having her heart beating against his chest.

“Come on,” he urged, pulling away far enough to walk without stumbling, tugging her toward the bushes.

“Uhh, Ishigami and Kaga will wonder where I am,” she exhaled, but in all honesty it was amazing she could form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

“I should never have let you name them that,” Goto hissed, pressing her back against a familiar tree trunk and slithering his fingers beneath her jacket.

“It was… Kurosawa,” Miho protested weakly, coiling her arms around his neck and dragging her fingernails through his hair.

“Stop saying other men’s names,” he growled against her throat, nipping it enough to cause Miho to squirm, sharp little stings giving way to tingling warmth and pleasure. “I have missed the taste of you.”

“I’ve missed being tasted,” she sighed, directing his face back to hers. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you,” he smiled, straightening her dishevelled jacket and taking her face either side. “Nothing is so precious to me.”

A little confused they were both still fully dressed, Miho frowned, despite his declaration.

“But you’re not done yet, are you?” she forced out, the quietest of squeaks.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, resting his forehead against hers, brushing her moist cheeks with his thumbs. “If I don’t finish this, many people will be in danger, including you - so I have to see this out.”

She knew he wouldn’t abandon his job, his responsibility to the people he vowed to protect, the law he vowed to uphold - that was the man she loved and married.

“But,” he continued, even as Miho wept, “when it’s over, I’m going to request full time assignment at the academy, no more undercover.”

“Ohh,” she exhaled, lightly nuzzling her nose against his. “But you would miss it, Lieutenant Goto, it’s as much a part of you as I am… just… promise…”

“Anything,” he pledged. “Absolutely anything.”

“Never die again,” she pouted, pecking his lips with desperate, quick kisses.

“Miho…”

“You said anything!” she pointed out smugly, rubbing herself against him, trying to make it as difficult for him to leave her as possible.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “Then I suppose I’ll have to live forever. But for now, I have to go.”

When he kissed her now, it was a kiss designed to convince her, once and for all, if any doubt lingered, that he was alive and hers. He would return to her safely, and they would be happy.

The joyful, hysterical bark-whining of Ishigami and Kaga, slammed into the moment, as surely as the dog slammed into the back of Goto’s legs. They proceeded to bounce energetically until he crouched, and then they clambered up his body, over his shoulders, his back, his chest, licking all the while.

“Come on kids,” Miho sniffled, untucking their leashes from her belt-loop and clicked each to their collars. “Let Daddy get back to work so he can come home to us.”

It took some serious strength to drag the dogs away from Goto, and it was with reluctance that he stepped back.

“And I will come home to you: soon.” The end... for now.

[voidendron]

One Little Kitten

One-Shot, 1′696 words Star Wars AU

(( I wanted to write when Marv was found by his clan; it’s from the leader’s POV instead of his since he was pretty little at the time. This was partially just to do some study on his species and to give his clan a little more life (hah) ))

Warnings: Minor Character Death (Corpses), Child Death Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Ferr (OC), Other Background OCs POV: Ferr Magniif

Keeping her blaster close and body low, Ferr’s eyes scanned the settlement just beneath the ridge she was perched on.

There was nothing left. Just felled tents, destroyed crates, bodies. Bodies everywhere. Bodies of pirates, and bodies of the Cathar villagers. Men, women, and, god… She felt her stomach twist when she noticed even children laying down there, motionless.

She’d gotten in contact with the settlement to trade goods—some good blasters in return for ship parts that Clan Magniif needed. She’d never expected to arrive to…

“Sir?” One of her men—Mili—had the scope on his helmet down in front of his visor. He was shaking his head. “Only getting some small energy signatures—probably from droids or computers that managed to make it.”

No smoke. Nothing was smoldering.

Ferr activated her jetpack; the four accompanying her followed suit. Down, down to the settlement, weapons poised, heads on swivels. Her boots crunched in the dirt when she landed, and when she toed at one of the dead pirates, the body was stiff. Stiff, and cold, and its eyes already decaying, and no smoke from anywhere, nothing.

She shook her head. “Happened a few days ago.”

Simon snorted from her left. “I thought Cathar were warriors.”

“They are.” Mili was kneeling at another pirate’s side, prodding at the obvious claw marks in his face. “And they clearly fought. But they wanted weapons for a reason.”

“They were Bantha fodder just waitin’ to be slaughtered.” Sarla put her hands on her hips. Even with a helmet, Ferr could picture the sour expression on the older woman’s face as she scanned the settlement. “Warriors or not, these people didn’t have much a chance against armed pirates.”

“I’ve never liked pirates,” Mili growled as he pulled himself back to his feet, kicking one of the offending bodies for good measure.

Ferr couldn’t agree more. “That makes two of us.”

“Slippery bunch they are.”

“Cowards, the lot of ‘em.”

Glancing back at the youngest member of their party, Ferr frowned. “Sisto, you’re awfully quiet.”

“I keep getting weird readings.” They put their scope away, offering a shrug. “It’s probably just broken again. Sorry.”

“I’m surprised these people even agreed to trade with us.” Simon had wandered off and found a broken…something, that he was tossing from hand-to-hand carelessly. “You know, after what our people did to theirs?”

Ferr and Sarla glanced at each other. It was the older woman to speak first, “Kid, the Mandalorian Wars were long before any of our times. Generations ago. If we can help each other out, then why not?”

“Hey, just saying. Our ancestors did almost make their entire damn species go extinct.”

Mili just shoved past him to check under one of the fallen tents, while Sisto grumbled something mockingly under their breath. Ferr just felt a spark of irritation. “You complain an awful lot about our history,” she noted. “I’d be careful about that.”

He missed the chunk of metal in the next toss and it clattered off behind something. “That a threat?”

“I lead this clan. If I ever feel your loyalty wavers, I’ll gladly remove you from it.” The unspoken “one way or another” hung in the air between them.

Simon snorted, but said no more. They both knew which of the two would win in a fight, so now he’d tuck his tail and keep his head down for a while to avoid one. Ferr could only turn away and to start searching the rubble, but she could practically feel Sarla trying not to laugh in the man’s face.

Mili had already broken the other man’s jaw once before when he’d pressed just the right button. Ferr even had a bet going with her second on how long it would be before it happened again.

“’Ey, boss, what’re we even lookin’ for now?” Sarla picked up the remains of what looked like a glove, dropping it when she realized the hand was still inside. “Place is picked clean.”

“Whatever—” Movement made her stop short and poise her blaster instead. When she turned to Simon—had he thrown something?—he threw his free hand up and shook his head. His blaster was also readied, and Sisto had their scope down again, the blinking light on the side telling Ferr that they had it in its infrared setting.

“Maybe it’s not broken…” they mumbled. “Something’s here. Didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Scavenger?” Mili suggested. He had both hands gripped tightly around his electrostaff, purple electricity sparking at its ends.

“It was pretty small. Animal, maybe.”

“Womp rat?”

“Not everything is a womp rat, Sarla. …And aren’t they big?”

“They aren’t even on this planet, so what’s that matter?”

“Keep your guard up,” Ferr interrupted. “Look for anything useful we can take back.”

Ferr managed to find a well-stocked toolbox. She nodded approvingly, but dropped it when Sarla and…someone else, she didn’t recognize the voice, started shouting. Well, the new voice was really more shrieking.

“Aw, he’s just a little tyke!”

“Sarla!”

The older woman was holding the child by the back of his shirt while he kicked and clawed and hissed at her. His eyes were wide—Ferr could see the whites even from where she stood—and, while her Catharese was poor, she could tell his vocabulary was limited. Kid couldn’t be more than a few years old.

“Sarla!” she repeated, more forcefully that time. “You’re scaring him!”

“I’m not doin’ nothing! Kid’s just a spitfire!”

Holstering her blaster, Ferr pulled her helmet off as she approached, keeping her body low. The kid only looked at her wide eyes as he curled in on himself, feet dangling uselessly as Sarla held him off the ground.

She had to wrack her brain for the language she didn’t know well, and she knew it wouldn’t sound right—she couldn’t growl like the Cathar!—but the moment the words came out, the little guy relaxed a little.

“We won’t hurt you. You’re okay.” Ferr opened the pouch at her hip, pulling out a nonperishable food stick that she held out. “Are you hungry?”

He snatched it up greedily as soon as he was set back on the ground. When she offered a second, it was gone just as quickly as the first. They didn’t taste any good—poor guy must be starving.

“Sisto,” she murmured softly, not wanting to startle the kid, “I thought Cathar had siblings?”

“Littermates,” they agreed. “He likely has at least one other sibling his age.”

Ferr didn’t know the Catharese word for littermates, so she asked instead, “Brothers or sisters? Where are they?”

“Papa told us to hide.” His voice was squeaky, so she wasn’t surprised that the growl to accompany some of the words startled Simon. The kid had retracted his claws and started chewing on his fingers. “Mm… They didn’t listen.”

“Did the pirates take them?”

He shook his head and pointed at the body of a Cathar male—Ferr noticed that, like the child, he had a heart-shaped mark on his forehead. He was curled around two tiny bodies.

“The mean men made them sleep! They don’t wanna wake up so they’re sleepin’ with Papa.”

Poor kid didn’t understand… Maybe that was for the better.

Ferr held out a hand and he grabbed it curiously. “My name is Ferr. What’s yours?”

“Marvin.” He giggled, swinging her hand and picking at her glove. “You talk funny. And look funny.”

“Don’t think he’s seen a Human before,” she said to her companions—the boy only tilted his head when he couldn’t understand her switch to Mando’a. Then, in her sloppy Catharese, she answered, “That’s a very nice name, Marvin. I don’t know your language very well, but maybe you can teach me, and I’ll teach you mine?”

“Really?”

Glancing back at the bodies of the kid’s father and littermates, Ferr nodded. “Yeah. Your papa wants us to take you with us. We can train you, and teach you things, and those mean men will never hurt you. How does that sound?”

“What about them?”

“We’ll let them keep sleeping.” Ferr reached down for her helmet, slipping it back on while the kid tilted his head. She brought a hand up to ruffle his hair (mane? it was thicker than Human hair). “You’ll get a helmet like this.”

“I will!?” He was grinning.

Their armorer would really have to work to craft one to fit his bigger, pointier ears and flatter nose, but, “Of course you will! We’ll make sure you feel right at home.”

Their first foundling in some time—the last had been found a few years ago and had recently turned old enough to get her first helmet. Ferr stood, picking the kid up and holding him close—was he purring?

“He’s not Human,” Simon muttered.

“Our founders weren’t Human,” Sisto snipped back. “It’s unusual these days, sure, but not impossible. As long as he embraces and respects our culture, he can be as much a Mandalorian as the rest of us.”

“’Sides!” Sarla leaned in to inspect the kid—he’d tucked his face against Ferr’s neck. “Only different between him an’ us is he’s got fur and—” she held up her gloved hands as if they had claws, “—built-in weapons. What Human Mando ain’t gonna envy that?”

“As with any foundling, he’ll be treated as our own.” She rubbed her hand over his back and he started purring again, hugging his arms around her neck and playing with strands of hair that were loose from her helmet. “Mili, you’ve always wanted a kid, right? Why don’t you take him under your wing?”

While she couldn’t see his expression, she could certainly tell that the larger man had perked up at that.

When she activated her jetpack, his arms tightened, but she shushed him, held him securely. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

He was so young. Ferr wasn’t sure he’d even remember what had happened to his tiny village when he got older. That didn’t matter—he’d be treated just like any other member of Clan Magniif.

Marvin. Little Marvin Magniif.

That had a nice ring to it.

[nickmuch]

c.z.k. - high school (part 3)

PART 1 / PART 2

Note: Honestly, I have nothing to do at work atm, so I might update this daily. Can’t wait for Part 4! Bc I have finally some more Zion action planned.

Also: It might be prom season there, but you didn’t hear it from me. My favorite part to write was probably the one that took place after prom.

Aaand: mobile tumblr seems to ignore all the paragraphing I put into the text to indicate the end of a scene???? So it’s probably easier to read on the desktop version.

A week had passed since my outburst. If you thought that everything magically turned upside down and we lived a happy life riding into the sunset on our white horse, then you thought wrong. Absolutely nothing happened. I returned back to class that day, not even flinching from his words. And he came back a couple minutes later, both of us acting as if we didn’t just kiss. He went back to her and I went back to feeling like shit. The usual story.

I acted like it didn’t faze me when he approached my locker at the end of the school day. “So …” he began. “You and Edwin?”. His voice sounded nervous when he asked me. Scrunching up my face, I fully turned towards him. “Me and Edwin what?”. Sighing, he grabbed my arm making me look him dead in the eyes. “You guys together now? You both seem oddly close these days”. Wow, I couldn’t believe the words that left his mouth. “Congrats! You have officially lost your mind, Caleb” I started picking up my pace. The front door wasn’t too far from here, so I hoped he would just let it go and let me drive home in peace. I hoped for nothing because clearly, he and his long legs caught up to me rather quickly, opening the door to my passenger seat before sitting down. “Look, I’m sorry for everything. But honestly, I just wanna put this all behind us. I miss my friends and I feel like I can’t hang out with the group while you’re still mad at me” “I’m not mad at you, in fact I give zero shits about you. But if you have something to talk about with the boys, then do so. I’m not keeping you from seeing them. They were your friends first, so you have every right to chill with them. I just don’t wanna be included, s’all”. A tap on the window made us look up. There she stood, tight smile on her face and eyes cold like ice. “Aw shit” he said, hurriedly opening the door to get out and explain why in the name of God he was sitting in his Ex’s car talking. Since I seriously didn’t need to hear their arguing – which was bound to happen any second now – I quickly drove off.

“Prom is right around the corner. What do you mean you’re not going?! Yes, you are! Don’t leave me alone with these fools!”. Edwin was close to having a breakdown. All because I didn’t plan on going to prom. There was no reason to go, really. I had no date, it was way too cold In New York to walk around in a dress the whole evening, and I wasn’t in the mood anyways. “Eddie, I love you, but please don’t make me go. I would only destroy the fun” I begged, thinking that would change his mind. Wrong! Because Edwin was – well – Edwin. My excuses were exactly that: just excuses. And he knew. “Okay bebecita, I knooooow you don’t feel like going”. He was convinced that easily? Wow, okay. “But!”. Ah there it was. “We will have fun. Trust me! When have I ever lied to you?”. I mean, he was right. Whenever he said something was going to be fun, it actually turned out to be. “Fine, we’ll go! But make sure that Zion leaves me alone. He thinks we’re dating and I don’t feel like dealing with his headassery again”. Edwin’s eyes nearly fell out of his face. “What?! Oh my god, is he serious?”. A hearty laugh filled up the whole living room. “Mijo, not so loud!” his mom shouted from the kitchen, making him quit immediately. “Anyways” he plopped down next to me on the couch. “No offense, but even if you’d be the last girl in the world and we had to reproduce in order to save the human civilization, I still wouldn’t touch you” Edwin finished. “No offense taken. You’re not my type anyway” I casually said while not breaking my eyes off of the tv screen. Gasp! “I- what? I meant because you’re my twin sister! Not because of your looks!” he cried. “Uhm … oh y-yeah, that’s what I meant too …?”. No way I could save my ass out of this. He looked hurt for a second but didn’t seem to dwell on it when he used my lap as a pillow to watch the show. “Don’t be fooled, you still suck ass”.

The night of the prom, Edwin had officially turned into a bridezilla. Minus the bride, of course. His steps could be heard from everywhere in the house, like a ticking clock you couldn’t dismiss. It was driving me insane. It was driving us all insane. “Edwin, you need to calm down” I tried. “There’s no way! No. Way.” he frantically walked from one room to the other. “My clothes need to be ironed, you still aren’t in your dress- “. “It’s 2 p.m.!” my voice sounded squeakier than expected. “- … your hair’s a mess, face not beat, my hair is acting up, and the damn rental car is running late” he finished with one last breath before collapsing on my bed. “We won’t be on time. Just cancel on the boys for me, the stress isn’t good for the baby”. “What baby?!”. “Me. I’m baby”. I couldn’t believe my ears. This boy lost his mind. Narrowing my eyes at him, he challenged me back to a stare-down. “Listen here, egghead” An offended gasp left his lips. “You’ve been talking about this night for weeks. There’s no backing out now. Move your ass up and get your to-do-list, so I can help you with everything. We still have four hours left before the boys are supposed to be here. So, let’s start!”.

The white Range Rover came to a halt right in front of the school building. Loud music could be heard already, some new rap song playing in the background. “This is gonna be so lit!” Edwin bounced on his seat excitedly before jumping out and dragging the rest of us with him into the gym. The motto for this year’s prom was “neon festival”.The wall decoration was painted in a mix of fluorescent colors, which reflected every time the lights hit them. Bright yellow stars adorned the ceiling, some white smoke even coming out of a smoke machine. Everything was arranged so nicely, I couldn’t help but admire the great effort of the students who probably worked hard for this to come true. Now I understood why Edwin wanted to go so badly. Back home, our prom nights were pretty basic. No one could be bothered to put so much effort into an event, just for it to be over on the same night.

“Here, for you” Nick handed me a red solo cup, which was filled with some pink drink, accompanied by a cocktail umbrella. “Thank you” I said, turning my gaze towards the shining stars again. “I’m so sorry about what I’m gonna say next” he looked slightly uneasy, so I tried to calm him down by laying my hand on his shoulder. “Z and Asya will be joining our table. I mean, only if it’s alright with you”. As if on cue, my eyes wandered over to where I last saw the boys, seeing that – in fact – they were surrounded by the couple. All of them looked so happy, laughing and joking with each other. No matter what I felt towards Caleb, I had to set my pride aside and act nice from now on. The boys were longing to hang out with their friend again and I didn’t want to be the reason for a strain in their friendship.

“It’s alright with me” I replied. His hand cautiously wrapped around my hips, like he was scared of making me uncomfortable. “Lead the way, Mara”. He grinned at me. “Say no more, Honoret”. I rolled my eyes at the name. He knew I wasn’t really a Honoret, and yet everyone just called me that, totally ignoring all my attempts at correcting them.

Luckily, I got the seat between Edwin and Brandon. I didn’t know how to greet Zion and his girlfriend. She was too busy typing away on her phone to notice my arrival, anyways. So, I just gave him a short wave and a shy smile. “Looking nice” he said, motioning to my baby blue velvet bodycon dress. His girl was so busy, she didn’t even notice him complimenting another female. Either that, or she didn’t care. “Thanks Caleb, you too”. Coincidentally, he wore a dark grey suit with a baby blue pocket square. To not give awkward silence any room, Austin suggested to me to dance. Gladly taking his offer, we made our way to the dance floor. Soon enough, Edwin and Nick joined us, their dance moves putting me and him to shame. “You guys enjoying yourselves?” Brandon shouted over the music. I pulled him closer by his forearm to join us. “Very”. My grin however didn’t last. When I looked back to our table, I saw Zion all by himself. He looked bored, occasionally scrolling through his phone. “I’ll be right back” I told no one in particular before making my way over to the lone boy.

“Why so lonely, Kuwonu?” I nudged his arm. With a weak smile on his plump lips, he answered “Asya is preoccupied with her group of friends. I don’t really vibe with ‘em”. Nodding understandingly, I offered him to accompany me back to the others. “As long as you don’t hit the folks, we’re good” I playfully teased him. “Ha ha, very funny” Caleb sarcastically remarked. It was nice to talk to him without an attitude or tension building up. Maybe I overreacted a little bit in the last weeks. Having him around felt good, if you ignored the butterflies that erupted deep down in my stomach every time he looked at me or smiled his goofy grin. But we had our chance and it didn’t work out, that’s why I had to get over it. Better to have him as a friend than anything else. Right now, though, was about having fun and enjoying the company of good friends in a night that seemed to be endless.

The thing is, everything has an end. And so, I found myself in the booth of an old diner. The fake leather of the seats was peeling off and little bolts of cloth got stuck to our clothes. One of my legs was pressed against the window side, my other leg was touching Brandon’s involuntarily. Edwin thought a corner booth would totally suffice for all seven of us. Well, he thought wrong because now we were all huddled up, trying to get as comfortable as humanly possible with not much space between us left. Asya decided to not tag along, saying she was too tired from dancing with her friends all night.

“I hope they hurry up with our order, I’m starving!” Ansley sighed dramatically. Turns out, Austin was talking to her for weeks now, he just couldn’t build up the courage to ask her out yet. So, Edwin being Edwin, persuaded her to join our trip for a midnight-snack, claiming that “this pizza is going to be the best you’ve ever had!”. Judging from the interior design and the slack expression we were getting from the waiter, I highly doubted he was right. But then again, never underestimate Edwin.

“Okay, you were right. This is the best pizza I’ve ever had. Kudos to you, Ed” Ansley munched happily on her slice. Suspiciously examining the pieces in the center of the table, I couldn’t really put too much trust into her words. For some odd reason, the pizza had more grease on it than my face in the morning before washing it. “Just try it, she isn’t lying” Zion slid me a slice over. “If I die, tell Mama, Papa and the babies that I love ‘em” I told Ed before taking a bite. This was actually pretty good. Maybe not the best I’ve had, but it came close. “What makes this the best pizza in all of New York, though? It doesn’t taste that special”. The boys smirked knowingly, all eyes looking down trying to avoid my gaze. “It’s not necessarily the taste but rather the memories this place holds, you know? Back when we were younger, we’d spend our evenings after school here since our parents were working and we had no one to watch us in the meantime” Brandon nodded along to Edwin’s words, clearly remembering it all as if it had happened yesterday. “Can you imagine the mess we’d make?! Five little boys, full of energy rushing in to buy themselves some junk food, not a single care in the world” he paused for a moment, giving the others a short smile. The moment was filled with a melancholic retrospective feeling. “We literally grew up in this place. T’was safer to play and wait for our parents in here than at home or on the streets. I guess that’s what makes this so special to us” he shrugged. Sensing that he had finished the story, I nodded slowly, comprehending everything he just told me. “I like it here. Has charm to it”. Grinning widely, I took another bite to further prove my point.

People think of New York as this cool and hip city, with expensive luxurious apartments and such, but they seem to forget that not everyone is fortunate enough to live that life. Some of us have to learn from an early age that this world is full of bad people. Not everyone is going to wish you the best or give a helping hand. “We kinda are like OMB if you really think about it. Sure, no one is forcing us to join a gang or sum, but we do live a similar life” Zion threw in. “Actually, the weedhead might be onto something” B exclaimed. “You moving here out of nowhere” he said, pointing towards me. “Ed having to give up his room for you. A weird crackhead as a friend like Jamal” Now it was Edwin’s turn to be pointed at. “Hey! That’s rude! Besides, don’t do my bro Jamal like dat. He’s a great friend, always got their backs and shit” Ed tried to argue. “You’re a great friend, too. And an even better twin brother” I genuinely told him. A chorus of “Awwee”’s followed the round. “Now this is how you talk to friends! Take notes, ladies”. When he said ladies, he definitely wasn’t referring to me or Ansley.

The night itself turned out being amazing and I was glad that Edwin had convinced me to go to prom. We were talking about everything and nothing, really. Moments turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours, and soon it was already time to leave. Ansley had to be home soon, so Austin took it upon himself to make sure she would arrive there safely. Edwin was craving donuts from the corner shop across the street, but since he couldn’t be trusted on his own, Brandon decided to follow him. “Is B really the right fit to watch him not do any shenanigans?” Nick asked warily. “… honestly, talking from experience, I should probably go with ‘em before their sugar high kicks in”. With that, I was left alone with Zion in the booth of a run-down diner in the middle of New York. Despite being in one of the biggest cities, the world suddenly felt so small around me.

“So …” Zion said, looking around the place. “So …” I mimicked. Shaking his head, he just laughed. “This is low key awkward, not gonna lie”. It was true. In a group we no longer had trouble talking, however when alone it was a whole another story.

“I’m sorry”.

“You say sorry way too much”.

“Maybe. But this time I wanna apologize for attacking you with that kiss last week”.

“It’s all forgotten”.

His mouth opened and closed, scared to say something but I knew there still was something he wanted to get off his chest.

The bell above the door frame signaled the arrival of someone. “Guess what I gotchu guys?!” Edwin trotted over, taking a seat on the table, so that he had both me and Z on each of his sides. A small brown paper bag rested on his lap. With one swift movement, he pulled out some twizzlers, and shoved them in our hands. “And we also bought you make up wipes!” happily Brandon said in a sing-song voice. Fishing out the pack, he handed them over to me. “I love you guys!”. Nick walked in last. “Yo, I’m slowly getting tired. Can we drive home now?” sleepily he rubbed his eyes, already pulling on Zion’s sleeve. Reluctantly, Edwin followed behind, even though all he wanted was to eat his candy. His sugar high was still going in full force. Therefore, he didn’t feel an ounce of sleep.

“Why the fuck is he so bouncy?!”Austin asked. We had called him earlier to ask for his location, so that we could pick him up and drive home as well. He climbed up the Jeep, sitting next to an energetic Ed. “Twizzlers?” he offered to his friend. “No, thanks. Also, please stop smiling so creepily, you’re scaring me”. This was going to be a long drive.

Note: Part 4 will have more Zion moments. The plan is to have only one or two settings, so hopefully it’ll work out as planned.

I’d love to get some feedback, good or bad doesn’t matter!! What direction would you want this to go? How would you like this to end? Let me know!

Cami

[ask-the-fanbots]

Family?

A fic between Coil (mine) and the Becile Boys and Mr. Weed (@ask-the-becile-boys)

Words: 2.4K

TW: malfunction, loss of fingers

    Hare was squatted in the alleyway, watching with only slight distress as The Jack gnawed on something inedible. Did he know what it was? No. Did he care? ...yeah. More than he'd like to admit.

    "Hey, c'mon Jacky, spit that out. Weed'll blow a gasket if he has to fix yer jaw again this week." He tried to coax the object--now identified as a brick torn from the building--from his mouth with little success. "Ow!" He hissed, inspecting the damage to his fingers. Still intact, so whatever. It was...probably time to bring Jack home.

    "Dnuor dna dnuor eht yrrebllum hsub--" He trailed off into cackling as he was gently hauled to his feet, spinning a few circles before springing up in an impressively high jump and stomping back onto the ground.

    "Ya don't say?" Hare offered casually, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he strolled alongside the giggling bot. "When we get back I'll--hey!"

    The Jack seemed to have decided he was tired of talking, because he began sprinting off without waiting on Hare to follow. The sound of his laughter drifted further off, his legs devouring the terrain ahead of him with all the gusto of an Olympian.

    "Hey, c'mon, why you gotta do this today!? We were doin' real well!" He huffed, arms pumping in rhythm with his admittedly pathetic strides. He wasn't anywhere near as fast as Jacky, but he could always hold onto the hope that the escaped kid would fall or something else'd slow him down, otherwise he'd have to try and drag Weed and the other guys out onto a Jack-hunt.

    Up ahead of him, the distant laughter cut off suddenly, replaced with a blood curdling shriek.

    "Jacky!?" Hare found a sudden reserve of speed, running faster than he'd ever gone before. It wasn't happening. Whatever he was afraid of wasn't happening! His thoughts tangled together into a web of helpless anxiety as he barreled around the corner, the manor coming into view. There he was! What was--?

    "--get off! Where'd you even come from!?" The voice was unfamiliar, as was the streak of dirty metallic grey covered by The Jack's writhing form.

    "The rocks! A lady from the floor! A candy man! The green took the lady!" The Jack was screaming as if his life depended on it, snippets of words in between snapping his jaws at the person he had pressed against the stairs.

    "What the Hell is happening out here!?" The Skull stepped out before Hare arrived, and instantly The Jack scrambled backwards, ramming headfirst into his brother. "Get outta here!" One fluid motion was all it took to haul the other person to their feet--a bot, no doubt, and a girl by the looks of it. "Hare. What happened here?"

    "We were on a walk an' he took off! Who's this?" He gestured wildly at the intruder on the steps, trying to size her up enough to get any kind of read on her and why she was here. Other bots weren't terribly uncommon to see, but ones turning up on the goddamn doorstep were.

    "Becile." She said, looking between them in a mixture of anger, disgust, and...well, a bit of hope. "He...y'know, made you?"

    "Go." The Skull shoved her back towards the street, taking another step forward before Hare waved a hand in a vague gesture to wait just a second. He shook his head, slamming the door on his way back inside. He'd have to go tell Locksmith, see if he could stop being useless just long enough to get the girl outta here. He may have been the enforcer, but if those piles of scrap metal wanted to hang around they had to do something every now and again.

    As soon as he knew Jacky was situated, Hare grabbed both he and the new lady and dragged the both of them inside. "Alright, sweetcheeks, let's talk. Why're you askin' about Pops?"

    "I was gonna ask if you couldn't see the family resemblance but thank God I ain't as ugly as you." She replied with a sneer, gesturing towards his face. Both were endowed with pointed teeth, though the woman’s were in her mouth, and between the pair of them that only managed to scrape together two eyes.

    "Wha--I ain't ugly!" Hare sputtered before leaning forward with a growl. "And you ain't family."

    The Skull pushed the two of them apart with a grimace. "We know all about his ugly mug. What we don't know is why the Hell you think you're one of us. Get talkin' or I'll throw you out whether they try to stop me or not."

    "Friendly bunch." She said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts into a sensible order. "Name's Coil." She paised briefly for a reaction, but upon receiving little more than slightly angrier scowls she continued. "Green core bot."

    "...yeah? And? Chrissakes, we're gonna be rusted over before ya finish the story." Hare plunked himself down into a moth-eaten armchair, resting his chin on his fist and looking at Coil in the same manner an impatient child would look at its mother.

    A throat cleared, and the attention shifted over to the source. Locksmith was standing off to the side, fingertips drumming over the cane in his hands. "If I may interject. You claim to be our relative, and this may well be the case, but have you any evidence to substantiate this? Are we to trust you at your word? This is--how do I put it--you would be far from the first ruffian claiming to share our lineage, if one is bold enough to call it that. How do you intend to put our troubled minds at ease? Proof, as it were, is what we'd ask you to furnish us with."

    "You all see if you can keep from dyin' for the next few minutes. I'm gettin' Weed and seein' if he can sort this out. If Pops made her there'd be some kind o' mark or somethin' to tell us." Hare rose from his chair, grabbing The Jack by under the arm to lead him off. "You too, Jacky."

    After earlier he didn't feel confident that Jacky wouldn't tear the gal apart before he got a chance to get back. A couple of her fingers were already severed, and they didn't need anything else going on at the moment. That's what he told himself, at least. Truthfully he needed a walk. Somewhere to go so he could think while he got there. Pops had been a less than honest guy, but there was no way he made another entire lady without them knowing, right? Right.

    But…

    She was just as soot-covered and banged up as the rest of them, and there was somethin' that didn't sit right when he looked at her. Something too familiar.

    "Oi, Weed! Open up." Hare banged on the door with his fist, earning a growl from within. "I'm not takin' no for an answer, 's important, so get yer ass out here."

    The door cracked open, a disheveled looking Riker peering through it. "Someone better be dying, and at this point I might let 'em for a little peace around here." He smelled of alcohol, deep bruise-like shadows beneath the one eye that was visible. That wasn't unusual for him, of course, but geez he looked like--...well, not great.

    "We got a situation." Hare inched closer, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He was smooth as silk. Cool as a cucumber. Nothing ever bothered him, naturally. As the tough leader an' all that it was his job to keep it together.

    Riker looked slightly more interested, but it was hard to tell with him. One brow arched almost imperceptibly higher. "What kind? I--Jesus, whose fingers are those? Who did he bite this time?" This earned a genuine reaction from him as he opened the door fully to look at the pair of tin cans that blocked his doorway.

    "Well that's the thing if you'd let me get there. We got a lady." The bot gestured vaguely, as if the weak attempt at charades would make things more clear.

    "A...lady." The engineer echoed, not any closer to understanding the situation than before.

    "A lady!" Jack confirmed, the high pitched giggles bubbling up through him against his will. "A lady from the rocks, a lady from the ground, a lady in the foyer who can't make a sound!" He sang before breaking down into hysterical laughter and snapping playfully in Weed's direction.

    "..."kay, what does that mean?" He didn't look pleased, but grabbed his tools nonetheless. If he didn't return some fingers his ass was on the line, too, and there was no way he could afford some kind of lawsuit for destruction of property or whatever they'd get charged with. Criminal proceedings were the last thing they all needed.

    "She--"

    "HEY! GET BACK HERE, YA LITTLE RAT! SHE'S YOUR PROBLEM!' Skully's booming voice echoed across the manor, and Hare cursed under his breath.

    "C'mon, I'll just show ya. Jacky? Wanna come with or head to yer room?" His hands found their way around the arm of the shaking bot, opting to guide him to his room and make sure he was secure before hustling back towards the door. "What's the--I WAS ONLY GONE A COUPLE O' MINUTES!"

    The Skull and Locksmith were standing beside the still form of Coil, the latter leaving a much wider berth. "She's your problem now. If she breaks anything it's on you. Get some answers." The Skull left with that, strolling briskly towards his own space. He didn't want her here, but he did wanna know what connection she had to the old man, if any.

    "We do seem to be in a predicament. While I can't say she's charming company, we are owed the full story, and the only one who can provide us with any insight is inactive on our flooring. A tapestry of tongues can't be woven by the mute, so I suggest our roboticist begins his work before much more time slips past us." Locksmith remained stationary, as he needn't provide them with any further room. They had ample space to operate, so for now he would observe the proceedings. Should the time come when he had to relocate, he would gladly cede further floorspace to them.

    "What do I look like, a dancing monkey? Why should I work on a bot I'm not in charge of? It’d be easier to scrap her." Despite his words, he was already kneeling to look her over. What exactly was the protocol on working on someone that wasn't yours? Especially one of the lady ones? And especially one that couldn't give him permission to take a look under the hood, so to speak?

    "She said Pops built her. Just take a look or somethin', will ya? Wake her up so we can ask ‘er a few things." Hare squatted beside Weed, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked her over. She did have the shoddy workmanship of Pops's hands, but that didn't mean much. He was overthinking this.

    "Fine, fine." Riker grumbled, undoing the buttons on the back of the dress. "You owe me, though. Next time I tell you I'm takin' a sick day, I'm taking it. No emergency repairs, no whining at the door, no nothing."

    "Yeah, sounds great. Do your thing, o mighty roboticist." Hare's tone was mocking, but there was no denying that Weed was good at his job. His ma had taught him well, apparently.

    It didn't take long before Riker was popping open an access panel, and he tossed it aside onto the carpet. "Geez! What's going on in here?" He turned aside, sneezing openly toward the rug.

    Locksmith looked utterly repulsed by this decision but held his tongue. He fished through his pocket, extending a handkerchief to the resident engineer. "Bless you, Mr. Weed. I take it our companion's interior is a bit... antiquated."

    "No kidding! When was the last time someone opened this up!?" He ignored the offer, swiping at his pointed nose with his knuckles. There was a thick layer of dust built up on every surface in the little panel, clogging everything and muffling the sound of the things that did still work. "I don't know what the last person in here did, but it looks like a toddler got a wrench and went to town. Half this stuff is straight out of a history textbook, and the other half looks like someone tried to make something out of spare parts from a dollar store."

    Locksmith withdrew the proffered cloth, tucking it back into his pocket. "I believe I'll retire to my quarters. Today has been eventful, and truthfully I have no desire to watch another uncouth display like the last one."

    Riker snorted, sparing a glance toward him. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to save a sneeze for you for next time I'm doing your repairs." He leaned back, resting in roughly the same position as Hare. After Locksmith left he turned to his companion, chewing the inside of his cheek before trying the find the right words. "You've been...quiet." It was more an invitation to speak than an observation.

    "Thinkin'." Hare was at a loss for more words than that--something Riker would have been quick to point out as the very first time had the circumstances been better. Family was a hard thing, especially for this lot. Hell, he struggled with his own family, but that was just a whole ‘nother beast.

    "For what it's worth, she's not one of ours. The marks and parts are wrong. But it does say Becile on the panel." Riker passed the piece of metal over to Hare, who inspected it carefully. Imprinted inside was the name Grace P. Becile in the standard formatting of foundry marks. Becile…

    "Pops never talked about a Grace. Think she's connected to Buster? Don't know that we really know where he came from neither." He handed it back to Weed, who set to work securing it back in place. She twitched under his tools, so it'd only be another minute or two until she came to.

    "You'd know better than me." Riker shrugged, wiping his hands off on a rag and stretching.

    "I'll go get Skully to carry her out." Hare jerked a thumb towards the front door, his other hand on his hip. "But uh...hey Weed. While you're out, keep an eye on her. If you see her. Don't go outta yer way or nothin'." His hand migrated to rub the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. “I gotta go back to my room. I'll see you later."

    "Right. I'll see you later." Riker watched him go before sighing and gathering up his tools. Keep an eye out...yeah, he could do that.

[anistarrose]

Some Sunny Day - Ch. 1: Prologue (Gravity Falls Same Coin Theory)

Summary:  Time isn’t linear, Stan has a catchy piano tune stuck in his head, and blue flames threaten to consume the peace that the Pines family has found.

Warnings: None for this chapter

Next chapter

AO3

(Based off the Same Coin Theory by @dubsdeedubs and @renmorris, a longtime favorite theory of mine!)

The gryphon they encountered on the rocky Alaskan island was nothing like those that Stanford had met before. The near-omniscience was impressive enough, but given what he knew about gryphon vocal cords, Ford almost thought the fluent English was even more extraordinary. Almost.

“Stanford and Stanley Pines,” it addressed them, not moving its beak at all. “Though you’ve both gone by other names at different times — most notably in Stanley’s case, of course.”

It gently floated to the ground, then folded up its wings and began to groom (preen?) its chest fur.

“I’d appreciate it if you put your weapons away,” it told them. “Though I don’t blame you for that sort of reaction. I am something an outlier among my family.”

It spoke the word family in a way that made Ford suspect it was referring to its entire species. And seeing as this gryphon was the only one they’d met that hadn’t tried to eat them, Ford was inclined to agree with it.

“Of course. We apologize,” Ford told it, holstering his gun. He noticed that the gryphon was a bit smaller than the ones he’d seen before, though not drastically, and its wings were a darker dappled brown instead of the usual beige. Were the biological differences a result of its unique abilities, he wondered, or were those abilities an adaptation made in response to the disadvantages the biological differences caused? Being nothing if not a scientist, he couldn’t help but ask.

“If you don’t mind the question, what is it that makes you you? What is the cause of this outlier status?”

The gryphon tilted its head at him like a dog expecting a treat. Ford supposed it didn’t get very many chances to talk about its talents — or talk to anyone, really — in this barren environment.

“You could probably trace it all back to my precognizance,” it told him. “I can see into many different times, but knowledge of the future was what changed me most.”

Stan narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? Give us an example of this future knowledge.”

Ford could relate to Stan’s skepticism. Most people would have believed it without a second thought — the gryphon had addressed them by name, after all — but being raised by a fake psychic tended to make you suspicious of such things.

“Gladly,” the gryphon replied. “First of all: there is a reunion awaiting in your future.”

Aware of the usual cold reading tricks, Stan and Ford stayed silent, careful not to give the gryphon any extra information.

“You’ll return to a familiar situation, but you aren’t trapped in a cycle — there once was a cycle, but you’ve already broken out of it. You will, however, reminisce on past mistakes, and the correction of those mistakes. And you’ll both find answers to questions you didn’t know you had — at least not consciously.”

It paused. “Is that sufficient? I don’t want to go and spoil everything, you know.”

Stan and Ford exchanged a look.

“The ‘reunion’ thing means spendin’ another summer with the kids, I guess?” Stan suggested.

“Probably.” They had indeed been planning to reunite with the kids in Gravity Falls next month. “Returning to a familiar place… that’s Gravity Falls, of course, but I have no idea what cycle we used to be trapped in.”

“Petty arguments and grudges?”

“Fair enough, I suppose. But what about the questions we didn’t know we had?”

“Well, right now we don’t know we have ‘em, duh.”

Ford sighed. The predictions were vague, but the more specific parts seemed plausible. Only the passage of time would allow him to seriously assess their accuracy… though Stan, for his part, had taken the whole thing (relatively) seriously, which meant he probably believed it was real. And given how skilled Stan was at spotting scams, his gut instinct was more than good enough for Ford, even as unscientific as it was.

“That’s sufficient. We believe you,” Ford told the gryphon. “But if you don’t mind, how exactly did you gain this ability? Is it inherent, or acquired?”

The gryphon spread its wings — preparing to take flight, Ford realized. He knew gryphons didn’t like staying in one place for too long, but he’d hoped this particular one would stick around for a bit longer — he just had so many questions…

“Time isn’t linear,” it said, “you of all people should realize that.”

(Was it just Ford’s imagination, or did the gryphon look briefly at Stanley?)

“That means that seeing the future really isn’t all that difficult. A lot of people can do it — at least to some extent — if they’re taught the right way. But if you must know — well, I can’t go spilling all of my secrets, but I will leave you with this: there is a being I am indebted to in many ways, a being that itself sees many things that from your perspective are yet to come.”

For a second, Ford was afraid that that was all they were going to get, that the gryphon would fly away and leave them with only questions and no answers. But then, it added:

“Stanford Pines, I believe you’ve heard of the Axolotl during your travels?”

And with that, it took to the sky and didn’t look back.

Well, that was an answer that just raised more questions in its place, Ford thought, his mind whirling as Stan gave him a concerned look. But I’ll take it. I’ll definitely take it.

“Ford? Earth to Ford?” Stan asked. He may have repeated it a couple times; Ford wasn’t really sure. “I’m guessing you do know something?”

“Yes, something. You could say that,” Ford finally answered. “Let’s get back to the boat and pray we have an Internet connection. There are a lot of things I want look into.”

***

“We’ll meet again…”

Stan was by no means a good singer, but Ford thought he’d gotten used to it over the past eight months. And really, he was used to it — it was just the song that he couldn’t bear to listen to.

“Don’t know where, don’t know when…”

He was trying to ignore it, to not make a big deal out of something he shouldn’t have cared about, not after the better part of a year had passed, but —

“But I know we’ll meet again, some —”

“Could you shut it already?” Ford snapped, slamming his fist onto the rail of the Stan O’ War II with more force than he’d intended and instantly regretting it. Not so much because it hurt his hand (though it was a little painful), but because he worried how Stan might react to it — not well, that was for certain.

But Stan just gave him a look that was more concerned than hurt. “Whoa, Poindexter, I’ve been singin’ for about six seconds. Somethin’ wrong?”

Ford looked down. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t like that song. Do you think you could sing something else?” He could have elaborated on why that song unnerved him so much, and Stan probably would have understood right away, but Ford had stayed up unhealthily late the past night researching and wasn’t in the mood to talk about Weirdmageddon.

And Stan couldn’t have possibly have believed him that it was that simple — Ford never snapped at him unless he did something remarkably stupid or unintentionally triggered a painful memory, and Stan wasn’t doing anything remotely stupid or risky at the moment — but he didn’t question Ford.

“Meh, my voice is kinda tired anyway.” It was a blatant lie, and the attempt to change the topic that he followed it up with was just as blatant. “So, you figure out anything else about that salamander god?”

Ford accepted the escape route Stan had offered him. “Well, technically I suppose I have, but not nearly as much as I would have liked.”

They’d spent three days sailing south since the gryphon encounter, and despite their Internet connection holding out far better than Ford had ever dreamed of, he’d hadn’t been able to find very many things that he hadn’t already known.

“It manifested itself to countless groups across the multiverse, I’m sure of that, but it seems that the only surviving records in our dimension were created by the Aztecs. And you know I’ve already read nearly everything there is to read about their god Xolotl.”

“Yeah, god of ‘twins and deformities.’ You’ve had that obsession since, like, middle school.” Stan tried not to pronounce the names of the god or the amphibian if he could avoid them. “And you even had one of the pink frilly guys in your lab.”

“I wish we could visit Mexico to conduct more research of our own,” Ford mused. “I have a vague idea for a summoning ritual, but I need more…” He paused as Stan’s words sank in.

“Yeah, too bad the kids will never forgive us if we skip out on them this summer to search for a magical fish lizard,” Stan told him, not realizing anything was wrong. “And I can’t remember what name my all my arrest warrants in Mexico were put out under…”

“Stanley, wait. You said you found an axolotl in my lab?”

Stan blinked. “Yeah, the one in the fish tank. I was afraid I was gonna accidentally kill him or somethin’ after you… ya know, fell through the portal, ‘cause I didn’t know what to feed him or how to clean his tank, but the little guy stuck around almost until you got back. You… you knew about it, right?”

“Almost until I got back?!” Ford asked. “Axolotls can live for fifteen years if they’re cared for well, but twice that?!”

“Yeah, I always wondered if you did some weird spell on it or somethin’. But… you really didn’t know about it?”

“I never kept an axolotl in the Shack,” Ford confirmed. “I honestly would have loved to have one as a pet, but I didn’t have the time to take care of one. They require a specific type of food, a specific temperature range, a specific type of materials in their tank… I can’t imagine any way one could have gotten there by natural means!”

“Would it freak you out more if I told you it just disappeared a couple days after the kids showed up last summer? Literally nothin’ left behind, like it dissolved in the tank or somethin’?”

Ford slammed his hand against his forehead. “Stanley, I can’t believe you had a ghost axolotl in your house for three decades and never brought it up until now.”

“Hey, how am I supposed to know what’s normal for pink salamanders? They could have all lived that long and disappeared like that, and I would have sounded like an idiot for bringing it up!”

Ford shook his head. “It has to all be connected!” For about the seventh time, he regretted not bringing a bulletin board and red string with him on the Stan O’ War II. “Your axolotl, the god Xolotl, the countless references I’ve heard across the multiverse to a benevolent creature that guards against evil and patronizes those with prophetic ability…”

“So… you really think it was the Axolotl in that tank all those years?”

“I think it’s quite probable. But… just what would the Axolotl want with you, Stanley?”

***

Ford had fretted over the Axolotl for several more minutes before they encountered what had to have been some sort of cursed seagull — no normal bird could possibly crap that much, right? — and their attention was very quickly drawn elsewhere.

As they were cleaning up the aftermath of the attack, Ford mentioned something about the Axolotl probably knowing that Stan was destined to defeat Bill, but he quickly abandoned the thought to continue cursing out seagulls in every alien language he knew. The explanation must have at least partially satisfied him, though, since when they went ashore that evening Ford fell asleep almost immediately in the hotel.

“I’d still like to do more research, of course,” he told Stan before completely losing consciousness. “Maybe we could sail south after this summer, visit the region where the Axolotl manifested himself as Xolotl. But I do think it’s likely that he paid you a visit knowing about your eventual role in Cipher’s downfall.”

Stan wasn’t as satisfied, for reasons he couldn’t quite pin down. Rare were the times when Stan was the twin lying awake at night, thinking about the day’s unsolved mysteries, but tonight, for whatever reason, he’d transformed into the resident sleepless conspiracy theorist.

He had a weird gut feeling telling him there was something he was missing — forgetting? — about the Axolotl, and he’d learned to trust his gut over the years — it had saved him so many times he’d lost track. His subconscious apparently knew a hell of a lot more than he did — though that really wasn’t much of an achievement, he figured.

There was a weird sense of urgency to his gut feeling today. Stan wasn’t sure he’d be able to describe it if he’d tried. There was just a hard-to-explain emotion — not really fear, he didn’t think, but definitely not a positive emotion, either — that rose up in his chest whenever he thought of the future: of returning to Gravity Falls, of reuniting with Dipper and Mabel and everyone else, of actually traveling to Mexico with Ford one day to learn more about and maybe even meet the Axolotl.

Big things are coming, he thought. And I can’t stop them.

Then he thought, Come on, Stan, you’re getting as paranoid as Sixer. Next thing you’re going to be keeping a diary all written in code.

So he ignored his gut and let himself fall asleep, a familiar tune about reunions and clouds and sunlight running through his head just as it had been ever since leaving that barren Alaskan island.

L wrog brx wkdw zh’g phhw djdlq Vdlg L glgq’w nqrz zkhuh ru zkhq. Exw qrz wkh vxq lv vklqlqj Vr pdbeh zh’oo uhdolch L’p qrw frplqj edfn RQH GDB — L’yh EHHQ edfn iru rxu zkroh olyhv.

Thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated as always! 

I’m aiming for weekly updates, but I can’t promise anything, especially if I’m struck with inspiration for other unrelated one-shots and the like. I have the whole plot planned out, and completed fic will probably be about 14 total chapters, plus or minus two.

[fantroll-purgatory]

@time-is-still-a-waste

(This is gonna be fun! I’m sorry if she seems boring though!)

She’s definitely not boring! Themeatically a tiny bit of a mess, but this blog’s got a broom and a dustpan, so we’ll sweep her right into line. From reading through the profile, different things I noticed you mention were optimism, fire/fireworks/explosives, baking, painting, carnivals, phoenixes and therefore implicitly rebirth, a soothing nature and desire to help others… 

When you list them all out like that and realize you don’t have a connecting force, it can quickly get a little cluttered-seeming, right? 

Well, I have a connecting force. One that’s going to seem like goofily obvious. She should be An Actual Circus Clown. Like not just a fun juggalo ex-cult member but someone who truly believes in the humanesque Principle Of Clownery. 

It jives with her optimism and desire to help others because she just wants to make ‘em see the sunny side, she just wants to make ‘em see the funny side! She wants to make ‘em laugh until they cry with- okay I’m done making this carebears joke no one will understand. 

Fire easily works for a circus performer, paintings and carnivals obviously work, and rebirth? Well, just take one look at Pennywise.

So now that we’ve got that idea locked in here, we can begin!

Universe: Alternia!

Name: Raizna Ashraz. 

“Raizna” was made to sound similar to the word “Raising”, which always seemed to fit her, due to her baking themes (Raising agents), and her optimistic personality (Raising spirits)! Ashraz, simply means “A bundle of torches”, which fits with the fire theme she shares with her Moirail.

I liked the Ra sound and the justification behind the first name, so I wanted to keep it, but I want to do you one better, themeatically. How about Ramkin Ashraz? 

Ramkin comes from Ramekin, a small ceramic bowl often used to bake souffles, which, as anyone knows, tend to Rise in the oven. But sometimes they can get too hot and deflate. So, y’know. A fun fact is that etymologically it can be read to mean “little battering ram.” 

Age: 8 sweeps, close to 9

Story!: Raizna never really had much luck, with things that happened to her. Being quite unusual for her caste, she (due to no fault of her own, might I add), ended up living with a rustblood, who would later become her moirail. These two, often team up, to set things on fire, but mostly just like fireworks. Preferring to be passive, she tries to hide her own nature, to try and keep her friends safe, to various degrees of success, often baking, and painting to keep up this appearance. When things just started to seem good for the troll, the meteors began falling. This time? She is refusing to think of them as the end. If it would take fighting to survive, then fighting she would do.

I don’t know what the circumstances are, but maybe I can make some recommendations based on the circus clown suggestion I made? She could’ve been a performer for a higher-ranking purple. Then she ditched the church and is here to party with a pal and try to reform himself into someone happier and more pleasant to be around. Getting her anger under control is hard when it was something so accepted as part of a wider cultural persona, but… Baking helps!

Strife Specibus: Bakingkind. (Formerly, Clubkind)

Raizna’s whole theme, was based around baking, and art. So, with a little bit of help, she worked out ways to weaponize her own baked treats.. if only mostly for the aesthetic. She has a set of various pies, filled with explosives, weights and sharp shards of glass, so whoever gets hit with them, gets a nasty (and hopefully explosive) surprise. However, if those aren’t available, she will use a rolling pin, and quite gladly bash people around the face with it.

She could still have a clubkind specibus, since she uses rolling pins as a bludgeon. I think it’s nice for her to keep it on hand. Then she can also utilize, like, juggling torches to whack with.

Fetch Modus: Painting.

Raizna, always finds painting relaxing and loves doing it whenever she can! So, whenever she goes to take something out her modus, she has to paint an image of whatever she wants to get out. The worse she paints it, the worse the condition the item comes out in.

Blood colour: Purple

Raizna, is somewhat of a classic Purpleblood, although she tries her hardest to hide it… to a degree. She still wears her self designed paint with pride. She’s ambitious, stubborn, and a bit emotionally messed up, often hiding her own disappointment with dry and self depreciating humour. However, she is still quite.. volatile, becoming extremely violent when people she cares about are threatened. 

Symbol and meaning: Being both Rage, Prospit and Purple, she’s-

TRUE CAPRICORN- THE CAPRICOUS

Honestly I think she might be better off as 

CAPRINIUS- THE CREDULOUS. 

But we’ll talk about that in a minute.

Trolltag: candiedCarnival [CC]

Candied, is used to reflect her sweet themes, and also to tie in with her sweet personality. It could also reflect her tendency to sugar coat things, that are going on in the world. Carnival, reflects the truth of herself, but also occasionally the fun of them, being places of joy and laughter, things she strives on making people feel.

how about conffectionateCarny, conffectionate is a portmanteau of confection and affectionate, which is a clever way to combine the idea of carnivalous cakes with the idea of her being a sweet person. Carny’s fairly straightforward, but it puts a singular person identifier on it instead of implying she’s the Whole carnival.

Quirk: Raizna isz szuper cheerful! Szo szhe talks with a ton of exclamation marks!  Szhe likes adding letters when szhe talks to fit with her name! It’s not like szhe’s bragging or anything! Szhe just likes how it szounds! :} 

I gotta be honest, I can’t tell where the sz comes from. She had z’s in her original names I guess? But certainly no sz’s. 

What if instead, she replaces her o’s with  °‘s? It’s a good reference to her baking interest as well as the theme of fire and heat. Maybe replace P with п? It’s derived from the greek letter Pi, which is a sly reference to Pie! And the letter name means ‘peaceful state’, which implies her interest in making things nice. 

Ex: Cheer uп, buttercuп! °r I’ll have t° thr°w a пie in y°ur face!

Special Abilities (if any): Raizna, if perhaps only by sheer nature, is ridiculously resilient . It’s incredibly hard to hurt her properly, or at least. Keep her down. But, if that isn’t counted, she’s just really good at calming people down. It’s like her words have something soothing about them. She does, however have a tendency to get increasing annoyed when doing this, almost like she’s taking their pain, or anger and keeping it for herself.

Now, this isn’t… Purpleblood abilities manifest as a way to keep the lowbloods down. That’s what it’s supposed to be. So maybe you could alter this to be something she really hates having? Something like hideous laughter, maybe? She can use her abilities to make people absolutely lose it with uncontrollable laughter. Maybe she’s trying to work on blunting the effect, somehow? Like making it so that she can make people giggle a little but, but having to suppress the power like that has a negative effect that makes her irritable and headachey?

Ancestor: The Vandal [Aleyna Ashraz, Witch of Rage]

Caught in a war and several rebellions, Aleyna was right at home. Rebelling against her own kind, She’d paint messages of rebellion along the walls of the nobles, with blood that she could find, her own, if necessary. 

Quickly gaining fame as a rebel, she kept this image up, stirring up rebellions with her works, and sending messages of danger to those who ruled. This did however, end up with assassins, coming to find for her, only to be led on a wild goose chase. Any of those, that did find her returned back home, scared, although they couldn’t quite describe why.

When the law eventually caught up, she didn’t surrender, and was taken away. What happened to her, was unknown.

Raizna was always interested in her Ancestor, respecting her for speaking up about what she thought was right, in a non-violent way. She often hopes that she had survived, and one day, Raizna hopes that she could do something just as cool.

Ancestors need 8 letter titles! How about The Graphein instead? It’s a Greek word that means To Write and is an etymological root for Graffiti. It still implies the same writing on the walls that you desired, but fits the lettering rules.

Lusus: Her lusus, is a weird combination, of a phoenix and a cat, that she affectionately calls her Birdmum and loves dearly. Raizna often takes food both caught and made to her lusus, as an attempt to return the favour of being brought up by her. Often being very defensive of Raizna, Birdmum often has to guard their hive, meaning she isn’t around very much. They have a mutually caring relationship, and if anything happened to her lusus, Raizna doesn’t know what she’d do.

Purple lusii need to be creatures that cross the land-sea barrier, so Bird Cat doesn’t really satisfy that requirement. Hmm… How about a phoenix turtle instead? Half phoenix, half turtle. It could have feathers on its wings, long tail feathers instead of the short turtle tail. This is because turtles are known to be long-living, so it fits the immortal theme alright. It’s also a sly reference to The Phoenix and the Turtle, which is about a lot of things but The Death Of An Ideal is one of the core themes and it fits well with the hope switch I’ve given to her.

Personality: Raizna is obnoxiously cheerful. Or at least, that’s what most people think. She often goes out of her way, to make people happy, either by feeding away their woes, listening to them, or calming them down with soft words. Often doing things out of her own kindness, many people are drawn to her for aid. She does, have a fondness for helping people, and will often go out of her way to do tasks for people, even if that means beating the hell out of somebody who hurt one of her friends, or stealing. Normally quite calm, she’s often cheerful, always fighting with her own dark urges. When she’s angry, or if her own nature takes over, she can be brutal, murderous and cunning, all the things she often hates about herself. With a deep hatred of lies, and lying, she’s incredibly honest, to the point of being brutally honest sometimes. However, at the top of everything, she puts others first, with very little care for herself.

I really like this base for her personality, like a LOT. I think you should pull some of the clowniness I’ve suggested, though. Maybe have her crack jokes for her friends, or do little performances. Maybe she’s willing to sacrifice her dignity to make her pals laugh. Maybe she’s always willing to throw a pie in her own face to get a giggle. She wants to be a good friend, and she tries to keep up under wraps with these jokes, maybe sometimes with pranks? Just trying to vent it out in any way possible. 

The rest of the stuff is really good. Give her a STRONG conviction for honesty, helping people, and doing what’s right. Because convictions are very important with hope-aligned players.

Interests: Baking, Painting, Writing, FLARP (to a degree. She doesn’t play much anymore), Sociology, Fire and “Magic” .

Maybe she plays FLARP but she likes to change the F to mean Funny. Funny Live Action Role Play. You know those people in MMOs who are like high level and terrifying and you’re so scared they’re going to kill your weak little level 1 character? and then they roll up and hand you like 4000 silver for literally no reason and tell you to go buy a horse? That could be her. 

You should add a general clowniness here. If she used to use clubs, she probably knows how to juggle! Maybe she could like fire spitting as well. And some pranks! Harmless fun! Fire crackers and noise makers and confetti poppers!

Appearence: Raizna, has never been one to draw attention to herself.  She keeps her long curly hair, that’s practically impossible to brush loose. You could probably find a plushie or two in there, if you tried hard enough. Often wearing a plain black shirt, and fluffy black pyjama trousers, she often seems like a mess, to the annoyance of a few of her friends. Quite.. disturbingly, she’s often covered in bright colours, from her painting. However, some lowbloods mistake the paint, for being the blood of people she’s killed, causing uneeded fear. 

At all times, she wears her makeup, flame like patterns coating her eyes, and brim of her nose. Streaking down from her lips, are swirls of white and red that stand out against her skin. She virtually never takes off the makeup, and just puts more on each day, without washing the previous day’s makeup off. To keep with her messy theme, she wears soft slippers everywhere. I mean. Literally everywhere. Even when dressed up formally.

She seems cute! I’ll see how I can communicate this in sprite form.

Title: Thief Of Rage.

I’ve always had her, as quite a soothing character, so I figured somebody who stole peoples negative emotions, could be quite a good idea, which is why I originally started with a thief. I couldn’t decide on if I should make her a heart, or rage player. 

I eventually decided on rage, and although I don’t think the go to version of the aspect particularly fits her. She can be selfish in a way, so I suppose it still fits! 

I think that she’s in a kind of good place, theoretically, as a person. So I think maybe Rogue of Hope might be a good title for her. 

She’s someone who cares a lot about others, who has a strong sense of justice and what is right and what needs to be done, and she’s not afraid to do it for others. AND she moves the anger around via her powers. She passively moves hope and positivity and potential onto others, lightening their moods, while actively taking on rage, which she turns into a weapon.

Land: The Land of Fire and Fear.

Raizna’s hive was just destined to be something fiery. I mean, with a phoenix for a lusus that was just fate wasn’t it. She just wasn’t quite expecting it to be on an active volcano. So when she eventually left her hive, and got hit by the freezing cold winds, she decided immediately. Nope. Don’t like cold. Cold things are bad.

So she ran inside again. Like a coward. That was, until said volcano erupted, lava burning away and melting the ice that covered her land. Just her luck. Right? 

However, despite all that destruction.. there was something beautiful about the whole ideal. As fire and lava ran across the land that was home, she soon decided one thing.

Maybe destruction can be pretty.

I see what you’re going for here, fire that’s pretty, but… I want to try to push that idea further than just lava flowing over the ground. How about…

Land of Glass and Paraffin, a land where leaping balls of flaming accelerant jump across the land, melting down the glassed surface, creating beautiful swirls, an ever-shifting pattern, molten-hot and deadly, but so wonderfully beautiful you can’t look away. There is always potential for something new, something beautiful, in the mutating surface. But she also has to find hope for the consorts, who live on a molten nightmare planet.

Dream Planet: Prospit.

Raizna, is a Prospit dreamer to a point. She’s optimistic, bubbly and cheerful! However, she does hold some of Derse’s dissatisfaction towards the world, simply due to just how wrong she finds everything. Following what some people do.. would just be lying to herself. Fate, however she does believe in. Fate, and Miracles.

Design: 

Horns: I wanted to make them look like the new symbol I gave her. So very curly, fun, and huge. 

Hair: I made it a big curly mess just like you suggested. I tried to make the curls come off a lot of larger round shapes, mostly because I wanted to summon the image of a clown wig at least tangentially. 

Eyes: Because I liked my own joke too much, I wanted to base her eyes just slightly off of Funshine bear from Journey to Joke-a-lot. And to make her just a little goofy looking, because that was kind of my goal for the whole design, I made her almost cross-eyed. 

Mouth: I wanted her to have big scary teeth to hint at her more dangerous nature. 

Makeup: I utilized red for some flamey eye makeup, some lines down the face, and the outer part of some cheek dots. I used yellow for her lips and the inner part of the cheek dots to try to bring a bright cheeriness, to hit on some more fire-themed colors, and to make her look goofy, once again. 

Shirt: I made the shirt slipping off one shoulder, to aid her messy image. I also like how it bunched the collar of the shirt, because now it’s vaguely reminiscent of a clown frill. I only added a few splotches of blood because her design was already busy color-wise and I didn’t want to overwhelm it. 

Pants: I made some loose pajama pants from Karkat’s pants and edited them to be purple. I wanted to carry the yellow down here, too, so she gets stripey pants! 

Slippers: They’re just edited from a fan-troll spritesheet to be in her purple color-family. 

She’s a really cute character! Thank you for sharing!

-CD

[insomniasix]

Chapter VIII - Seaworthy - Part I

Previous

@mzargentum​

“Rise and shine, Prince Charming. We’re here.” Noctis had fallen asleep against the Regalia on the way to Lestallum. Six spend the journey back studying the inside of the ship, since last time she was in one she was preoccupied with keeping an eye on their co-passenger, Ardyn.

She trusted Aranea. The time they spent together in the ruins had proved to be more of a bonding exercise than ‘training’ as the commodore had previously implied. With the boys being exhausted from the exploration of both the Vesperpool ruins and Myrlwood’s Royal Tomb raiding, the Glaive had decided she’d stay awake long enough for them to rest.

The couple-of-hours power nap was over though, as they had finally reached their destination. One of Aranea’s men informing her of the situation down bellow before making his way back to the cockpit of the ship.

“Sounds like a spot of trouble’s popped up at the power plant. Wish I could help, but I’m powerless to do anything I’m not ordered to.” the commodore commented as the door at the back of her ship opened, revealing the city lights, “I’ll leave the keeping of the peace to you.”

“Of course.” Ignis fixed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, nodding in response.

“We got this.” Prompto agreed, yawning the sleep away.

“Good luck, guys.”

Some hours later and after the Regalia was safely parked at Lestallum’s parking lot and the Imperial ship had flown away, the four found their way to the entrance of the power plant where Holly informed them of the trouble they were facing.

Six and Noctis were in protective uniform in no time. Prompto not missing the opportunity to mess with his friends’ appearances as he whistled playfully, “Lovin’ those outfits, guys!”

“Why don’t you wear one?” Noctis wasn’t as agreeable at the situation, slightly irritated at how Six managed to drag him along with her.

“Well, those are the only ones. And if anyone stands a fighting chance in there, it’s you two.” Ignis commented. The tone in his voice suggesting he was actually enjoying His Majesty's irritation. He was sure Six was smirking at it under her helmet as well, “Forget about fashion and go.”

“Testing.” Holly cleared her throat through the intercom in the helmets as the two made their way to the entrance, “Do you read me? Just wanted to thank you for offering to clear out those deamons! That’ll give me time to treat this mythril for you.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly offer.” Noctis muttered, making Six’s smirk stretch even wider.

“There’s a hunter who went in right ahead of you.” Holly continued, “I imagine there’re too many for the two of you to handle… but three of you should be fine! And a little heads-up: we’re getting some unstable readings from the generators inside. Too much power and the whole place could blow, so be quick!”

“Will do.”

“Got it, Holly. Talk to you in a few.” the Glaive agreed, pointing to the tall man waiting for them right outside of the door.

“So, you my backup?” the man’s arms were crossed to his chest as he spoke.

“I thought we were partners.” Noctis commented nonchalantly.

“Anyway, place is crawling with daemons.” the hunter made his way inside.

“Wait a sec. You sound familiar.” the prince sounded confused, turning around to look at his Glaive as she shrugged, pretending she hadn’t realized who the two had in front of them.

She would have recognized him anywhere… but, she let the Prince take his time.

“Save the talk. We got hunting to do.” if anything, the Glaive thought to herself, that attitude should have been a dead give-away, “Now, if we’re done with the introduction, follow me.”

They could see it once they got further inside. Holly was right! The power plant’s core was filled with low-leveled deamons. Dancing, fighting and causing destruction all around it.

“There they are. You ready to rumble?” the hunter summoned his sword and the two followed right away.

“Oh yeah.” Noctis run forward, aiming his own weapon to the Goblins in his path.

Unsheathing her katana, Six did the same, going straight for the Garchimacera ready to strike at the Prince with its claws.

“Some pretty fancy move you’ve got there.” the hunter noted as she sliced through the daemon, already making the next one on her sights, “Reminds me of a certain Glaive I know.”

“Fancy that.” Noctis was now sure of the man in front of him as well. His words, attitude and the way he moved himself to stand between him and the daemons all screamed his name.

“Not too shabby yourself.” Six praised back, “You’d make a good sparring partner.”

“You think so?” she could hear the smile behind his words.

“Yeah. Nice sword by the way!” she had noticed it as soon as he had summoned it. She knew that blade well.

“Red alert, you three!” Holly’s words cut the conversation in two right away, “We’re detecting a major power surge. She’s gonna blow! Abort the mission and get outta there!”

“I ain’t one to leave unfinished business.” the hunter spoke as he made his way around two Goblins, his blade taking both of them down, deamons turning into smoke with just one swing, “Can’t speak for them, though.”

“Then allow me,” Noctis warped right behind him, killing the daemon trying to sneak up on the big guy, “I got this.”

“Well, how about you prove it?”

“Gladly!”

“Holly, five minutes!” Six instructed before turning her attention to the men in her company, “Go around, take out everything on your way and meet me halfway!”

The two did as she instructed, making their way around and meeting her in the middle before finding the exit as the rumbling of the core calmed down. The deamons messing with it had been dealt with.

“That all of them?” Noctis asked once they hid their weapons, reaching for the door out of the heated room.

“Think so.” the hunter breathed, letting his long-sword disappear.

“Nice job. You didn’t disappoint.”

“When have I ever?”

“Hah.” the Prince huffed a laugh at the response, it was undeniable now, “Keep it up.”

“Will do. Now, let’s scram.”

A few minutes later and after a thorough cleansing, Noctis made his way back to where Prompto and Ignis waited with Holly, Six following close by.

“Great work in there.” Holly praised once they got closer, “As promised, here’s your mythril. And thank you for your hard work.”

“Sure.” Gladio’s voice was heard from behind them, hand already finding its way to Six’s lower back before Prompto jumped at the sight of him, being safe and back with them.

“Hey, big guy!”

“So the ‘hunter’ who went on ahead-” Ignis smirked at the realization.

“The one and only. How ya been, fellas?” he answered the same way, amber eyes studying her tired features as a warm smile spread on her lips. She seemed calmer now than she did when he first saw her a few hours ago outside the plant. Sure she was wearing the protection suit but he could see her tensed shoulders under it. Now that he was with them again, and safe… she was calm once more.

“Not bad.” Prompto chimed in again, “Whoa… someone did a number on you, though.”

As if just now realizing the new scars on his face and chest, Six’s brows frowned. Her mind traveling back at the ruins. The burning sensation she felt… it was right where the scar on his chest was now.

“You should see the other guy.” Gladio took her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “Anyway, I’m back and better than ever.”

“Noct? Gladdy?!” Iris’ surprised voice made them all turn toward where she stood with Dustin, the girl quickly running toward the five of them, “I can’t believe it!”

“Hey. Thanks for looking after her, Dustin.” Gladio placed his arms around the Glaive’s waist again, hugging her from behind as the rest continued speaking. “You smell good.” he kissed her temple, making her smile at how much they’d missed each other over just a few days.

“So,” Iris raised her eyebrows at her brother, “Gladdy, did you apologize to Noct for storming off like that?”

“He made it up to me in there.” Noctis was quick to save his friend from the upcoming scolding.

“The power plant? Oh, so you got your hands on some mythril! In that case, I’ll go deliver it to Cid. You’ll probably want to freshen up first anyway. Come and meet me in Caem when you’re ready!”

“Anything happen while I was gone?” Gladio asked once they had made their way to the square, the five of them walking towards the car so they could get back on the road.

“Yeah,” the Prince answered, cocky smile on his face, “the car got roomier.”

“Smart-ass.” Gladio huffed a laugh at the comeback before his eyes fell on the Cup-Noodle truck across the road from them, “Hey, do you think we could swing by the Cup Noodles shop for a sec?”

“I like Cup Noodles as much as anyone, but I think you might like them a little too much, big guy.” Prompto laughed at the eagerness in Gladio’s voice.

“There’s nothin’ else like ‘em. They’re easy to make whenever you’ve got a craving-and they’re delicious to boot. I’ll never forget my first time.”

“Must have been real eye-opening after all the fine dining you did before that.” Six laughed at the look on his face as his memory run back to the first cup he ever had. Clarus must’ve been the one to introduce him, since it was always one of his own favorites.

“Somethin’ dawned on me when I was on my own: any food you make tastes better when you use good ingredients, right?” Gladio tapped on Noctis’ shoulder when they reached the truck, “Then, if you take something already delicious like Cup Noodles and add in the finest, freshest ingredients, what do you get? The ultimate flavor experience!”

Ignis and Six smiled at how enthusiastic he seemed over the matter. The former thinking it would make for a nice change of the classic delicacy.

“So I ask you, Noct: what’s your favorite ingredient?”

“Meat?” the Price was as nonchalant as always about it but he could feel his stomach rumbling just from the thought of a delicious meal.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” the Shield smiled proudly, “Minced meat is the key to every perfect cup of noodles. But why stop there? I say we outdo the ordinary. Find ourselves some REAL good meat that’ll surpass perfection! All that’s left is to make our noodle dream a reality. First up, the ingredients.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” Noctis nodded, the rumbling in his stomach getting the better of him since it had been a few hours since the last time they ate anything.

The company followed Gladio back to the square where they asked around the local tipsters for information about where they could find some juicy meat to hunt. One of them gave them information about a behemoth, just a couple of hours outside of the city, that has been known to cause trouble in the area. The five thanked him and promised to bring back some of the meat they collect for the tipsters own Peanut Sauce Skewers, as payment for the information he so willingly shared with them.

“With all that muscle, behemoth meat’s gotta have a good texture.” Gladio followed Six and Ignis to the car once they all thanked the tipster, the two younger boys eating the couple of skewers Six bought for them, “Can’t say I’ve ever eaten it before thought.”

“Usually the behemoth’s the one doing the eating.” Noctis said while chewing on his food, earning a sniffed laugh from his Glaive.

“I just hope we’re not next on the menu.” Prompto’s bite almost got caught in his throat as he gulped the thought of exchanging places with the food in his mouth.

“Those tipsters know everything.” he continued once him and the Prince were done with their food, “You ask ‘em a question and they always got the answer.”

“Their knowledge is impressive as is the freedom with which they share it with others.” Ignis joined in, eyes scanning the parking lot for the Regalia before making his way to the driver’s place.

“Are you sure?” Six asked and he nodded in response, knowing she would probably be too tired to drive.

“Let’s move, before someone else in the know beats us to the punch.” Gladio held the door open for her to sit in the middle of himself and Noctis.

A few minutes out on the road and Six had fallen asleep. Forehead touching the Shield’s shoulder and lips parted as he stared at her face, eyes taking her image he had so missed and mind traveling back to everything he’d learned about her. Things she hadn’t shared with anyone.

“Her insomnia came back while you were away.” Ignis commented, seeing his friends’ states from the rear-view mirror.

“And she stayed awake while on the way back to Lestallum so we could catch some Zs.” the Prince added, only now realizing that she hadn’t slept for almost two days straight so the rest of them could.

The Glaive woke up with a yawn about an hour and a half later, eyes traveling to the sky at the sound of the engine flying past them from above, a low sigh taking the place of words.

“The empire is everywhere now.” Ignis commented, finding a spot to park the Regalia before everyone got out.

“Take a closer look?” Prompto raised his eyebrows, not sure how ready they were to take on the Base but ready to follow in case the rest agreed on it.

“I think we should probably rest first.” Six rubbed the sleep from her eyes, another yawn leaving her lips before the rest agreed to take care of the behemoth threat before anything else.

“According to our tipster, this is the place.” Gladio spoke once they reached the spot marked on their map.

“There it is.” Six pointed at the beast, “It really is too close to the road.”

“What do we know?” Ignis fixed his glasses and summoned his daggers, keeping an eye on the beast while Six made a plan for them.

With a similar plan of attack as the one they had used on Deadeye, the five made quick work of the beast. With Six and Noctis warping on the head and the legs of the beast, Ignis’ magic and lance, Prompto’s marksman skills and Gladio’s fired up shield the beast was cornered and dealt with just in time for them to start for the camp closest to them before the sun had completely given its place to the bright full-moon.

“Alright! We did it!” Prompto took a picture of the creature falling down, last breath leaving it’s body.

“Magnificent!” Ignis praised.

“Oh, yeah. That’s a good cut of meat.” Gladio got to work on removing the edible parts, “Can’t wait to slap this baby on the grill.”

“Yeah,” Noctis gave him a hand, “but good luck eating it.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get to camp and get cooking.”

“There’s a haven near by.” Six agreed, the final light of day would soon be gone, “Come on.”

“I wonder, is she really gonna leave the army?” Prompto thought out loud on the way to Entethina Camp, lips pouting at the thought of the silver-haired commodore.

“You seem quite smitten with her.” Ignis smirked at the blond, ready to tease him about the non-stop comments about the women in his life, Noctis getting right on it before he could.

“Which one is it?”

“Which one is what?” the blond frowned his eyebrows.

“Her or Cindy?” Noctis couldn’t but raise one of his at the question.

“Aranea or Cindy!?” Prompto exclaimed, leaving the rest trying to hide their laughs, “Wow. Okay. Um, let me think about this for a sec...”

“I’ve no doubt both of them can wait, sunshine.” Six laughed, unknowingly saving him from his dilemma, “Here we are.”

“I’m stuffed.” Gladio commented after dinner, once Six gave him his cup of tea, “My compliments to the chef.”

“My pleasure.” Ignis smiled at the praise, “Did you enjoy your time with the marshal?”

Gladio nodded before Prompto cleared his throat, not satisfied with the lack of more details on the matter, “So, uh, what’s that thing on your face?”

“This?” the Shield pointed at his brand new scar with pride.

“Yeah- X marks the spot.” Noctis commented, blue eyes never leaving his phone’s screen as he was beating the second level of King’s Knight of the day.

“Just a scratch.” Gladio waved him off, “The other guy got off a lot worse.”

“Worse than looking like some kind of thug?” Noctis huffed a laugh.

“Speaking of which, who was this ‘other guy’?” Ignis’ curiosity got the better of him as he pressed on the matter.

Gladio sat straight in his seat after a nod from her. She too wanted to hear the story. “They call him… the Blademaster.”

The young Shield told them about everything he went through in Gilgamesh’s chambers. The trials he faced and the wisdom he collected from the fallen warriors he met. What he’d learned about the marshal’s past and how he managed to win the fight against the Blademaster himself. How he found what he had been looking for. His worth! How he’s finally ready to fulfill his duty.

“So that’s how you got it.” Prompto and Noctis had put their phones away, listening closely to the amazing story the Shield was telling them.

“Whaddaya think?” he smirked.

“Very perpendicular.” Prompto looked at the Prince with a teasing smile, “Really complements the one you got when you saved Noct from that bully.”

“Yeah. Only difference is, this time, I ended up taking a pretty bad beating, too.”

“Not unlike the licking the marshal received back when he was a lad.” Ignis left his mug on the ground next to him.

“Musta had a lotta guts to go up against Gilgamesh back then.”

“Yeah, Dad said he used to be a real firecracker.”

Prompto’s and Noctis’ comments about Cor made Six smile to herself, remembering the time she was the one to accompany a young marshal through the Trials as he had done this time for Gladiolus.

The Shield, watching the same smile remembered, “Oh, I almost forgot.” he summoned a sword similar to her own, giving it to her as she studied it, recognizing his craftsmanship right away, “He asked me to give this to the King’s Glaive.”

It was a Yoshimitsu sword. Opposed to her Mythril Katana’s black and silver details this one was white, with golden and purple on it’s saya and tsuka. And the blade of it was freshly sharpened with handmade carvings on the buttress.

“Really?” she gasped at both the sword’s beauty and the thought of her old friend sending it just for her.

“I think he might have missed you.” Gladio nodded with a smile.

“If the Blademaster sequestered himself during the Founder King’s reign,” Ignis pointed at Six with his hand at her previous title, “then he’s haunted those halls for some two millennia.”

“That’s a long time.” Noctis thought out loud, also looking at her direction.

“All those years waiting for the Chosen King to arise.” Six commented, eyes still on the ‘gift’, “You sure know how to take your sweet old time.”

“What can I say? I’m worth the wait.” he gloated and Six gasped at how fast her eyes darted on him at the choice of his words. Letting the sword dematerialize as she pushed Nyx’s memory to the back of her brain so she wouldn’t get dark again.

“Gimme a break.” Prompto laughed, unknowingly helping her take her mind off it.

“And I, as well.” Ignis smirked as Gladio groaned at the Prince, “Just because you’ve got a Shield to protect you now doesn’t mean you get to slack off. But if you do, I’ll be ready.”

Next

[survivorreelsmagicwithin]

Episode 1B - “I'm praying to Yoncé I survive and don't get first boot.”-Jess

no words.

LITERALLY

NO WORDS.

Two points. TWO FUCKING POINTS.

I'm praying to Yoncé I survive and don't get first foot. That ain't a cute look xoxox

i'm already forgetting to search for the idols, i'm already getting paranoid about if i need to start making alliances instead of just enjoying the really cute convos i'm having with ruthie lily and kevin (max is kinda dry and annoying but... we'll try to make it work ig).... and i'm already hating every challenge we do especially this one although i actually really liked the challenge it was so creative and fun, i just hated that i have bad luck and am stupid with the deduction things, HENCE why i havent looked for the idol yet. LOL. so.... tl;dr - things are going perfectly! this hufflepuffle is workin exactly as he should!

I just wanna say we really are the hufflepuffs. 114 moves in like 5 hours, but we did it.  Really proud of Ruthie, Landen, Kevin, Max, and I! Sending positive vibes to slytherin. Hope they are okay in this madness.

Yo my tribe? Kinda dope. I think that everyone worked really well together today! I think Joanna kinda took the lead and some of her ideas were... a choice. But! It got us first place! I think that this tribe has a good shot of getting to swap unscathed.

With Slytherin going to tribal, I really hope that someone I don’t know goes, but at the same time I’d be okay with Jess going? I feel like she’s such a sleeper threat in most games I’m in with her and I really just don’t want to compete with that this time around.

I kind of snapped and got myself an idol good until final 6 teehee.

I knew that the Snape's letter or writing or whatever that freak was up to was SOMETHING. Did I get lucky... hell fucking yeah.

A crackhead like me SHOULD NOT have all this POWER.

I also gave Jacob literally the worst clue ever because we are sharing clues ladies xoxoxo

The clue was:

"Snape is taken aback. “That wouldn’t be any business of yours now would it? I wouldn’t want to find out you are spreading false information. I trust you won’t have any issue with that”. Congrats! You’ve discovered Snape Storyline 2! That’s all for the moment, and will end your search for this round."

BOTH ARE HALF TRUE. Just in case he doesn't put 2 and 2 together and now I went from place to place on purpose. He's gonna think now I gave him something of value and I know he's gonna think "No way someone go an idol on day fucking 3".

CONFESSIONAL 1.1 — Walking into the Great Hall, I saw a few familiar faces... for not good reasons!

First Jacob, who I know from tengaged. He and I were in a similar friend group for a short period before he left it, but we had a rocky relationship. We flirted a bit (blame 16-year-old Nicholas), but that is in the past.

Secondly, Jess... who I just directly sent home in Eve’s The Challenge: Fresh Meat. She did not have great words to say to me (such as I’m condescending), so I was very wary and, honestly, unhappy with her being here.

But, as Kylie Minogue says, it’s better the devil you know.

Flash forward to the Sorting Ceremony, and I’m so happy to be.. Slytherin? I told Mister Vintage (Sammy) and Mister Heinen (Caeleb) that I’m either a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but I suppose I’ve been lying to myself.

Then, I see my tribe: both Jess and Jacob are present. This is a curse wrapped in a blessing wrapped in an enigma. And, I love it.

I hate, hate, hate conflict and bad vibes, so I directly spoke to both. Jacob did not easily recognize me, but remembered me fondly; so, a successful reacquaintance. Jess, on the other hand, was definitely more apprehensive (as was I), but I made one thing clear: the past is the past, and I am declaring my loyalty.

I have been hurt in previous games by shoving the past aside while the other is still grudgingly aiming for revenge, but I feel Jess is different. She apologized to me about her words, which did hurt, and I apologized to her. What I said was honest, so I’m glad to see a fateful blossoming.

The first reward challenge is revealed, and honestly, I’m really bad at participating in pre-merge competitions, because I do not mind tribal. However, I do want to, since we are such a small tribe, focus on maintaining our numbers in case of a swap. We came in second this reward, and honestly, I’m glad to have eaten cupcakes (although I hate cherry). The fact we all chose a dessert and were privately messaged makes me assume someone received an advantage, but who knows...

What I DO know is that I had two separate relationships, so I wanted to lock a trio down (Me, Jess, Jacob), but I obviously did not want to gamebot this early and make the chat day one. So, naturally, i waited until after immunity.

Speaking of immunity... I took charge, because I like it, but also, I wanted to be able to take blame if we lost. I hate the whole “let’s vote someone out cuz they cost us a virtual challenge” this early in the game, it’s a cheap way to vote. I want to vote on loyalty and activity instead. That’s why I am probably going to target Jessie or Vi, but I‘m unsure as to which will be my vote. On one hand, Vi is much less social, but she also contributed a lot to the challenge. I do not want to judge a book by it’s cover, so I will reach out to her and assess her vibe.

I like going to tribal first, because my philosophy is that it’s better to test loyalties now, rather than guess loyalties later.

Regarding other players, Jules and Juls just played in a mini with me and sheeped the majority alliance to screw me over, so I’m not feeling them right now. Bitterness doesn’t exist in my mind: play well and I respect it; sheep and be stupid, and I will gladly dish out the karma. 

I’m satisfied with the happenings of this game so far, and I hope to make it further!! This is one of my first real orgs so, I’m em definitely excited. x. nick

Yay we won immunity. Raffy do be carrying our tribe though!

WELL WELL WELL!!!!!!! as far as my relationships go which is where i left off last round, really nothing much has changed about how i feel about or view my tribemates, but in exciting news... we won immunity!! i am not going to be first boot that is so nice, and im hoping that we can keep winning immunity until a swap so I can feel more secure. I think I could stand a shot if we lost on this tribe but i think if so the vote would split 3-2 i dont think i can get a unanimous vote on anyone unless its myself which is NOT WHAT WERE TRYNA DO HERE !! if anything i feel like i have the best chance to wiggle myself in with the girls (lily and ruthie) Max would probably be my ideal first vote if we ever lose an immunity because I know landen can be useful in challenges, but he YET AGAIN addressed me with a name that does not sit well with me he called me a "challengewhore" yet another reference to TS 2020, so this is not a good sign. Ideally I could get landen out and still be set but i know he has a relationship with juls who i also have a relationship with and wish to continue to have in this game, and us going against each other could make that more stressful than it needs to be because i know landen avenged beck for voting juls out maybe juls would do the same for him? Much to think about, but thankfully i dont have to think about it all that hard because yet again we ARE SAFE !!! woo, anyways thats pretty much it hopefully we can keep winning :D

Ahhhh safety feels so nice, I’m glad that I’m not in danger of being the first boot. Also I love the fact that ravenclaw won the first challenge with so little moves HAHA!

I want to go far in this thing with lily and with kevin, my goal right now is to get to merge and owen be alive so I can work with him!

I am very happy to have won this immunity challenge. We barely won, but I managed to pull my tribe to a victory. Emphasis on the "I" part. I am very frustrated with my tribe's lack of challenge activeness and ability. If the time did not work for them, then I do not know why they even suggested doing it at 2 PM. This challenge would have gone faster if I had done everything myself. In the end, though, I hope this helps in me staying in the game because I am a necessity if they want to ever win a challenge in first place. I highly doubt that they could do it without me.

So I’m currently writing this with one hand because my cat decided to lie on my other one  anyways Nobody is really talking about the vote which means it’s probably me going but I’ll see what I can do to change that

Here's a breakdown of my first few experiences since I am writing this a few hours before the first tribal council.

FIRST I was cast in this game along with a BUNCH of people that are icons across different formats of Tumblr Survivor - so that's intimidating. Mostly because my play style is kinda vanilla in comparison. I gotta find a way to stand out or I'm going to be thrown out fast.

SECOND There's a twist that will probably have some major effect at some later point in the game where everyone is added to the Great Hall. I think that it's for convenience of posting things like results and challenges so it only has to be sent to one chat... but also so that we can feel THEMATIC which is a lot of fun.

The game started in the Great Hall and we got sorted into our houses and the implication was that it's random but.. I don't think it's entirely true if I can read into what the hosts said to me once I was sorted into Gryffindor (something about running out of room in Hufflepuff) - because I definitely didn't say Gryffindor in my application.

THIRD My tribe has the following people: Joshua, Juls, Raffy, Autumn, and myself. 

I do not know how many of theme said Gryffindor when they applied but also did not want to bring it up to them as I am masquerading as a brave idiot. :D

Anyway, I started conversations with all of them and they all seem very sweet!!

I've played in a game before with Raffy where he was super snakey but also a great ally until he tried to snake me. So there's that... he's also an "over the top" type of person so he takes charge a lot of the time and voices his opinions about everything. I hope we can create some sort of working relationship in the game, but I think that he will tell me the truth if he does align against me.

Autumn is super chill and super strategic-minded. She puts lots of thought into all of her decisions and makes calls that benefit her getting to the end while trying to align with the right people. If I can't get to the FTC of this game... TBH I want to make sure she gets there. I played with her in one game and we both were tossed out one after another when the game turned on our "side". I don't think that relationship will factor into this game as it was forever ago and we both kinda play "new" every time we start a game but I'm hoping she will want to try and play with me just because I've seen how great she is at the game.

Juls is a very fun person who seems to always be having a great time! I found out she lives in Texas too and that she was excited to get to know me because we are from the same state. I was like.. do I know you? Because when she messaged me the way she did implied that she knew who I was and I was thinking OH NO what have people said.

Joshua seems really sweet. He hasn't added incredibly much to conversations so far with him but he has contributed some fun things. I love that he tries to be entertaining, but as I see it so far he's the first person I'd be willing to vote out if it came to our tribe going to council... though of course, having said that I bet they've all declared me their first choice.

FOURTH The reward challenge was the Letter plus Number challenge so as predicted...

I did terribly and earned 0 points for our tribe and was SO happy it was not for immunity.

The immunity challenge was a Choose Your Own Adventure Puzzle.

We got a slow start in that I feel like everyone was afraid to make a move because that would put a target on whoever "failed for the team". Then me and Raffy kind of got things rolling with him taking the main leader role and me taking on a secondary role either agreeing with his suggestions or contributing a suggestion for what we should do.

There was a misunderstanding with the competition and we ended up making a whole bunch of extra moves because it was unclear to us that the letters we found at a later part of the challenge were able to be changed into numbers at a lockbox so we did a bunch of extra stuff... and I was resigned to the fact we were going to the first tribal when we go surprised that Slytherin... DID WORSE!!! O_O

Anyway... I still have no alliances or confirmed "working game" relationships and I really don't feel like starting those conversations at the moment so if I am out of the ones established or on the bottom of one that will add me to "pick me up" for later votes then I blame myself for not trying hard enough in that category.

FIFTH I definitely didn't just now search for the idol and waste two days that I could have searched other times. Nope! Not me!! :)

Anyway I went on a trip to Hagrid's Hut because I love me some Hagrid and I figured he'd let me in since I"m a Gryffindor and he loves us the best (you know, like a reverse Snape)... I dug through all of his junk and found his umbrella. Apparently I liked that it was pink and then left his hut. 

To be honest, I probably should have taken his dragon's egg and turned him in... maybe could have gotten him fired.

Someone finally got me to come out of retirement- can you believe it

It's been cute so far and I have no complaints, probably cause the hosts wisely put me, Owen, and Dan in separate corners lmao. Yooo if we all make it to merge?? Hell hath no fury. But we will cross that bridge when we get there! And for now I enjoy the calm before the storm. I deadass forgot how to be an org so I need all the time I can get to socialize and reacclimate. Me checking Skype more than once a year? Don't remember ever doing that. I love Raffy, it's always good to see Chips, I think I like Juls, and I'm not sure how I feel about Joshua but it's fine. I like Gryffindor cause we have no beef and I hope it stays that way.

ok so my tribe lost :( big sad. but im def ok bc jess is soooo close to me and we made a threesome with nick so. i think jessie is an easy first boot bc shes not around as much as vi. but really its our decision at the end of the day!

here’s the hot goss.. i’m a little upset i didn’t get anyone i Know on my house/tribe but also grateful HSBSNSNN all i know is that so far i’ve been doing pretty solid in securing relationships with those on my team (at least.. i hope so :flushed:) and i’m hoping they all like me hehe. kinda praying to just mist my way to merge where i can be united with people who like me enough to keep me around still.. >:D 

[hysterialevi]

In the Smoke pt. 5 (Cobblebats)

From Bruce’s POV

After agreeing to join the “Children of Arkham,” whoever they were, Oz led me to what was supposedly their headquarters, which had been hidden deep underground to avoid any unwanted attention, whether it was from random civilians or the GCPD. Before we headed there though, Oz gave me a hoodie to shield my face with, claiming that a Wayne like me wasn’t going to quite be welcome company just yet. What the hell did my dad do to receive so much hate?

Following Oz through the dank, damp streets, we found ourselves skulking away from the wildness of downtown Gotham to a more secluded area of the city filled with shady-looking people, all of them staring at us as we passed by.

“Stay close,” Oz warned me under his breath, “people here ain’t exactly friendly, ‘specially towards your family.”

I sped up a bit so that I was side-by-side with Oz. “And why does everyone hate my family? What did we do?”

“Well, you didn’t do nothin’, but your father’s ruined more than a few lives in the past--mine included. You’ll learn more soon enough.”

Ending the conversation there, I continued to silently trail along with Oz, trying to avoid as much eye contact as possible with the criminals around us. Most of them were huddled up in small groups, and chatted privately in multiple corners of the alleyway, enjoying drinks and muttering to each other as I walked past them.

“...is that...Bruce Wayne...?” One thug murmured, his intense gaze nailed onto me. “The fuck’s he doin’ here?” I pretended not to notice him.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” his friend replied. “Why would a Wayne come slummin’ down here when they’ve got that fancy castle of theirs?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? I dunno--he just looks like him. Maybe it’s not.”

“Of course it ain’t, you tit. A Wayne would never have the guts to come to a place like this. Too busy running away from paparazzi.”

“Will you two shut the fuck up?” A third man barked at them. He was curled up on the ground, lying on top of some cardboard with his jacket covering his body. “Tryin’ to get some damn sleep here.”

The first thug finally decided to let the subject go and returned to his own business, looking away from me as he carried on another conversation with his friend. That was when I noticed a rather prominent tattoo of a strange symbol inked on the back of his neck--and now that I paid closer attention, actually--that symbol was everywhere. It had been spray-painted on the walls, people wore masks with it, and other criminals in the alley even shared the same tattoo. Maybe it was the Children of Arkham’s logo?

Out of nowhere, I felt Oz suddenly grab my arm and haul me over to his side, gently pushing me forward in a hurried manner. I gave him a puzzled look.

“Best not to linger here,” he advised, his eyes darting around in caution. “Don’t wanna get shanked for real. C’mon, we’re almost there.”

After a few more minutes of trekking through the dangerous alleyways and trying to keep up with Oz’s hasty pace, we arrived at a large, brick building as more criminals came into view, and the sound of cheering reached my ears. There were colorful, vivid lights seeping through the windows, and cigarette smoke filled the air. What was going on inside?

As if he could hear my thoughts, Oz gladly explained the commotion with a proud grin. “Us Children of Arkham are huge fans of boxing. You should watch a match sometime. It’s an easy way to have fun.”

“You ever fight?” I asked.

He laughed. “Mate, it was my idea to start it.” He opened the front door and gestured for me to enter. “Here, I’ll give you a quick tour, and then later, I’ll tell you what our next step is.”

Shoving our way through the building, Oz briefly showed me around headquarters and introduced me to a few of the members who seemed friendly enough, occasionally waving back to random people who recognized him. 

I had to admit: the atmosphere of this place was far from inviting, and being in the presence of literally an army of criminals made me just a tad uneasy. So far, no one had revealed any obvious intentions to harm me, and everyone seemed too distracted by other activities to even notice me, but it was still intimidating. On the bright side though, at least Oz was here to guide me. Just by having him around made me feel much safer, and like I was protected.

Without even realizing it, I started to subconsciously stare at Oz in thought, almost...attracted...to his appearance. He looked so different compared to when we were kids, and had transformed from a cute, playful child into a rugged, charming, and even handsome young man, regardless of his faint wrinkles and unkempt attire, and what the hell was I thinking? Was I...infatuated...with my old friend? No, I couldn’t be. That’d be weird. Or was it normal? I mean, Oz was good-looking. Who wouldn’t like him? Surely, I wasn’t alone.

“Have I got somethin’ on my face?” Oz said, snapping me back to the present. Oh, shit. He caught me staring.

“Um, n-no,” I replied awkwardly. “You’re fine.” I quickly corrected myself. “I mean--you look fine--not that kind of ‘fine.’ Not like the, erm--you know, ‘hot fine.’ Just. Fine. Yeah. You’re fine.” I mentally facepalmed. Well done, Bruce.

After a second of trying to make sense of the bullshit I just spewed, Oz let out a friendly chuckle. 

“Relax, mate,” he patted my shoulder. “I know this place can be intimidating at first, but you’ll fit in soon enough. Just take a breath.”

I laughed nervously along with him. “Y-yeah...that’s it. Thanks. Um--can we talk about that next step now?”

“Sure,” he nodded, clearly aware that I was uncomfortable. “Follow me.”

Battling our way out of the crowds, Oz took me upstairs to his ‘office,’ which was actually just some random room he started piling all his shit in and then claimed ownership of. It was much quieter up here, and the wild sounds from downstairs were muffled now, leaving us with some peace and quiet.

Fumbling in his pockets, Oz pulled out a lone key before unlocking the door and allowing us entry, shutting it behind us. His office was...pretty cozy, to be honest. It wasn’t too big or too small, a few scattered lamps lit up the room with a warm glow, and layers of boxing posters covered the wooden walls. 

Nestled off in a corner, I spotted what appeared to be his desk. It was decorated with scattered pens and pencils, an empty beer bottle, and an ashtray full of dead cigarettes. Walking over to the desk, Oz dragged a second chair with him and placed it on the opposite side before plopping down onto his own, leaning back and slipping out a pack of cigarettes. 

As I took a seat, he lifted the pack towards me, offering me one. I politely refused, and pulled down my hood.

Flicking a lighter open, Oz cupped a hand over the cigarette and set the tip ablaze, afterwards letting a small puff of smoke out the corner of his mouth. He chewed his bottom lip in thought.

“...have you ever killed a man?” He asked. I snapped my eyes towards the cigarette.

“What the hell are you smoking?” Oz laughed at that.

“I know it’s a strange question, but I’m just genuinely curious.”

I shook my head. “No, I haven’t. What about you...?”

He took a drag, resting his elbows on his knees. “...yeah. A few times. I ain’t proud of all of ‘em, but sometimes, people just can’t be allowed to live any longer, y’know. Lots of those people are in Gotham right now. One of them sits on the bloody throne.”

Straightening his posture, Oz looked directly at me. “Listen, the next step...is to kill Mayor Hill. I know it’s probably quite a leap from what you was expectin’, but it’s gotta be done.”

I hesitated and kept quiet, but Oz picked up on the message right away.

“...or maybe,” he continued, “you wanna get some answers out of him first.”

I paused. “...it’s like you can hear what I’m thinking.”

He smirked. “I’m good at reading people. Look--normally I wouldn’t change the plans for something this important, especially since things are pretty much set in place, but you’re more important. To me, at least. Originally, I was going to just have Hill killed off at that upcoming debate and be done with it, but maybe we can bring him back here. Pull some info outta him. Make him tell the truth. Yeah...I like that idea better.”

“So, what’s the new plan?”

Before he could respond, my phone suddenly began to ring. I sighed.

“Sorry.” Sheepishly pulling the device out of my pocket, I went to silence it until Oz caught a glimpse of the contact’s name, reaching across the desk and stopping me mid-action.

“Wait,” he exclaimed eagerly, pointing at the screen, “you’re friends with Dent?”

“...yeah. Why?”

An idea popped into his brain. “Answer it, and put him on speaker. See what he wants.”

I decided to go along with it and tapped the speaker button, Harvey’s voice coming through instantly.

“Hello?” I greeted.

“Hey, Bruce. It’s Harv, but you already knew that. Um, anyways--I was wondering if, ah...you’d like to...maybe grab some lunch at that café? Café Triste, I think it’s called. It’s new apparently. I thought we could check it out together.” He quickly added more. “--if you don’t though, that’s perfectly fine. I know you can be busy--or maybe you’re just not in the mood. Whatever it is, no harm done. So, um, what d’you think?”

Oz quirked a brow at me. “Is he always this awkward?” He whispered. I silently nodded.

“You should go,” Oz suggested. “Butter him up a bit. It’ll help with our plan.”

I pressed the phone against my chest, blocking the sound. “It will?”

“Yeah. Trust me.”

I put the phone up to my lips, wondering what Oz was thinking. “Sure, Harv. I’ll meet you there at...say, twelve?”

“That works perfectly. All right, then. I’ll, uh...see you soon, Bruce. Thanks. Bye.”

“Bye, Harvey.”

I hung up. Oz’s chest gently jolted upwards with a soft chuckle. “Jesus. And I thought you were awkward back there.”

“He...likes me,” I shyly explained. “A lot.”

“I can tell. Well, you should get going. It’ll gimme time to set up our new plan. Meet me back here when you’re done, all right?”

“Sure thing. See you, Oz.”

“Actually,” Oz sprung up from his seat, “maybe I should walk you out. I doubt Harvey wants to have lunch with a corpse.”

I put my hood back up. “I can defend myself, you know. A few thugs is nothing I can’t handle.”

He grinned, slinging an arm over my shoulder as we casually strolled out together, delving back into the craziness downstairs.

“Oh, I know. You’ve been livin’ with one your whole life.”

[carygarman980]

MINE: Porcelain Treasures + A Mirror

Yesterday I went on a high-stakes salvage adventure up to Albany. See, right now I’m looking really hard for nothing in particular so unfortunately it just had to be done.

I got a few things. You don’t drive an hour to simply turn away empty-handed. That would be unethical.

How stupid cute are these little porcelain bathroom sconces??? I’d guess they were made in the 1930s. I’m used to seeing sconces all the time that are similar to these, but I’m not really used to seeing that sweet bubbly rounded cloud-like shape on top. Precious! Naturally, every item in this store had price tags except all the things I bought (I don’t know why—it is just my way), so I was pleasantly surprised when the manager suggested $15 for the pair. Sold! They don’t have any sockets or wiring, but that’s easy enough to replace.

Where will these go? I don’t know, but I do know that $15 to have these two in my back pocket for some future bathroom renovation even if it isn’t my own makes me feel PREPARED.

By the way, they were super grody so I used my tried and true cleaning method of sticking ’em in the dishwasher. Thanks, Cascade!

Sometimes when it rains it pours, and yesterday’s theme was porcelain! ‘Tis what the thrifting higher being dictated. This is another porcelain light, also likely from the 1930s, also with no socket or wiring, also with no immediate function, but $5! You just gotta! I have a few lights very similar to this (including one I blogged about a while ago), and they just seem so handy for when you just need a little tasteful inconspicuous-but-still-special ceiling light.

I noticed later that it says “Alabax” on it, which I didn’t realize was actually a whole line of porcelain light fixtures produced by Pass & Seymour Inc. starting in the 1920s! I only knew it as the name of Schoolhouse Electric’s new production version, which I’ve used in a couple spaces over the years. IT’S ALL MAKING SENSE! The Schoolhouse versions are really lovely, and Rejuvenation has a few vintage ones available, and a nice write-up on their history.

More porcelain please, I do not have enough. Here we have a $1 plumbing escutcheon, sized for a 1 1/4″ pipe which is generally what’s used for a bathroom sink drain. I think this one will be for my downstairs powder room once I get around to it! It’s also just another good thing to have on hand because of COURSE when you really need one, they’re nowhere to be found.

ANDDDDD to round out the theme, I scrounged up 5 porcelain door knob escutcheons which match the door hardware in my house!! SEEE?!?!

It’s the little things! These have been super hard to find and of course break easily, so I’m missing a few around the house and unreasonably stoked to have a little stockpile to draw on as I inch along with restoring all the doors. At $2 a piece, they’re also by far the cheapest ones I’ve ever come across.

Amazingly, these literally came into the salvage place about an hour before I got there, and were still attached to the doors that the rad salvage guys had just pulled out of a DUMPSTER. Ugh, I mean, can you even? DOZENS of solid oak 1860s doors without a lick of paint on them and all the original hardware, in a goddamn dumpster. People are so infuriating. I’m so glad they got saved.

Anyway, salvage places usually remove all the hardware so they can store the doors more easily (and sell the hardware separately), so I offered to pitch in and take the escutcheons off myself and they gladly passed me a screwdriver! You can sort of see in the back of the group one that’s dis-assembled: there’s a round metal plate that screws into the door, and the porcelain part covers that and then a brass threaded piece screws into the metal plate and holds the porcelain part in place. Naturally these pieces always get separated from one another, so having FIVE complete sets is very exciting.

BTW, if you ever see those little white porcelain keyhole covers like the one on my door while out and about and they’re under like $10 a piece and you don’t buy them for me, we’re not friends. I’ll pay you back!!! They’re so elusive and so fragile.

Finally, this specimen. If you have more than two of something, it’s a collection, and therefore I collect mirrors like this. They have to be missing their frames (otherwise they’re just part of the mirror collection—I think of this more as a sub-collection, but it’s also been labeled “hoarding”), be an interesting shape, have beveled edges, and foil backing in vaguely this kind of disintegrating condition.

Right now they live in this totes-normal arrangement up in the den, but someday I’m sure I’ll do something else with them. It’s not like they’re creepy or anything.

Just don’t look directly at them or you’ll see your own death. K have a great weekend everyone!!!