#also i left out what i tell myself for sake of saving some time but if anyone wants 2 know that's ok u can ask ! i like helping ppl

[rocksibblingsau]

What would branch being captured by the v's look like in the classical branch au

would trollzart and the others have to find his brothers or like how would they react to branch's brothers acting so undignified(by classical troll stantards) especially compared to branch who is literally The etiquette person(having written books and being a etiquette teacher, etc)

- :D

If Classical Branch was captured by Velvet and Veneer, I like to think the two actually have no idea if they actually caught Bitty B.

"Are we sure this is Bitty B?" "The name is 'Branch', my good sir." "Who cares if it is, we'll just lie and tell BroZone we have Bitty B."

John Dory gets the letter and goes to confirm himself, finding Classical Branch. He actually can't tell that Classical Branch is Branch, and Branch doesn't know that John Dory doesn't know.

JD: Hello? Hey! Hey are you okay? Branch: Johnathon Dory? JD: Uh just John Dory. Branch: My apologies. I'm relatively unharmed, though most indisposed. You best leave now, before Madam Velvet and Sir Veneer return. JD: I should get you out- WAIT! Do they have any other trolls here? Branch: No, just myself, thankfully. Though some company would help see me through the nights...

Branch tells JD to find his father, Trollzart, and even gives him directions to both Pop Village/Trollstopia and Symphonyville. JD plans to first stop by Pop Village to find his brothers and then he'll get "this Trollzart dude", as he still believes they are the best shot at the family harmony.

JD interrupts the wedding to ask about Branch like normal, now that the letter was a bust. Poppy tells him Branch just left a bit ago to return home to Symphonyville. JD, at this point, doesn't actually know what Symphonyville is or that it implies Branch is living with a whole other type of Trolls. So he just goes "GREAT! That's where the fancy dude I found also lives. Maybe Branch knows him!" He explains a bit more to Poppy and she has to tell him that WAS Branch he found.

JD insists she's mistaken ("No you didn't see this guy, he was a real fancypants nerd type and Bitty's just a baby") but Branch's friends all confirm that that's what Branch is like now. He still doubts it as he was told to find his 'father' and it's not possible for Branch to mean THEIR dad. Meeting the Classical Trolls he's even more confused because what is UP with these dudes?

Trollzart's instantly worried to hear Branch has been kidnapped, as well as upset with John Dory. "You just LEFT him there? Ah well I suppose the notion isn't foreign to you." But he's willing to do whatever it takes to save his darling boy.

The trip to find Bruce is tense as John Dory had been the patriarch of the family, and now some fancy dressed baby man who talks like he swallowed a dictionary (JD's words, not mine) is trying to claim he's Branch's dad?

When they get to the island, Bruce doesn't want to even listen to John Dory until Trollzart yells out "For heaven's sake, isn't there a single one of you who cares about dearest Branch?!" That gets Bruce's attention and he demands to know what's up. He wants to help but he's still a bit confused on Trollzart's role in this.

Since Branch isn't there, it's slightly thanks to Trollzart they find Clay. Bruce and John Dory are arguing back and forth and Trollzart remarks to Poppy that despite the glass he can "Smell the stench of those foul undergarments just as well as he could from a mile away". Poppy gets the idea to use them for Rhonda and they arrive at the Hole N Fun.

Clay initially is pretty cool with Trollzart, as he's "hardcore serious" but when it's clear that Trollzart has a grudge he gets defensive.

The brothers have no clue how to find Floyd but thankfully they don't need to. Floyd also received the letter and he meets up with them outside of Mount Rageous.

The group attempts to practice, resulting in their fighting. Floyd attempts to break it up, cue the line about going their separate ways. It's Trollzart who gets upset this time. "Ah what a displeasure it is to see the four of you reprising your star roles. Though it is my first time seeing it, my beloved son has described that dreaded day that I myself am experiencing deja vu witnessing this. Truly if the world is a stage you are most befitting of the villainous role. One must wonder what it must be like to care so little about anyone other than oneself, it must surely be quite liberating to not feel the least bit of sorrow at the thought of the infant you left behind."

Trollzart joins the fight, telling the brothers about what a joy Branch is to have as a son and doesn't reveal Branch's trauma but does imply Branch HAS trauma and its their fault. Trollzart tells them they don't deserve the option of a second chance and he leaves and tells Poppy he'll attempt this 'perfect family harmony' his own way.

Trollzart and Branch duet for the perfect family harmony, with Brozone playing more of a supporting role. I'm thinking it'd be sort of a broadway type of song. Kinda like 'Not While I'm Around' from Sweeney Todd or 'Dear Theodosia' from Hamilton, a little bit 'Slipping Through My Fingers' from Mamma Mia, even. If Classical Branch was an actual Trolls movie I'd probably make them hire that Lin Manual guy that @dialga64bitz keeps sending me pictures of in my submissions box to write the song.

And uh, yeah. That's about how it'd go I imagine.

[goodnightmemes]

YELLOWJACKETS SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ The only thing you should ever say to the police is, "I want my lawyer." That's why I put it on the cookie. ❜

❛ Before you go, you should take some Hawaii 5-0 punch. It's just regular Hawaiian punch, but I gave it a snazzier name. ❜

❛ I might have to break up with him. Unless I get lucky and he just disappears. ❜

❛ I don't want to talk about the future, anyways. I'm all about living in the moment. ❜

❛ You're, like, holding on to me or whatever. That's, like, haunting 101. ❜

❛ I had to cut back the rations again. There's not much left. ❜

❛ The thought of you with someone else always scared me. But it also turned me on. ❜

❛ I'll make a solid kidnapper out of you yet. ❜

❛ There's no such thing as false hope. There's just hope. ❜

❛ I'm not scared of you. I'm never gonna be scared of you. ❜

❛ This is how you're choosing to say "I love you," for the first time? ❜

❛ You weren't the only smart one. You just liked to think you were. ❜

❛ What if my only way of dealing is to numb myself into oblivion? ❜

❛ They're too focused on their own shit to even notice that I'm gone. ❜

❛ Well...you're not a picture of normalcy yourself. ❜

❛ I can feel your heart beating. ❜

❛ Everyone has their role. ❜

❛ Stop reliving this! You're in the vise grip of your trauma. ❜

❛ Every time that you try to save someone, a lot of bad shit happens. ❜

❛ Serial killers love puzzles. It's a documented fact. ❜

❛ For fuck's sake, shut up! Don't you see how much damage you are doing? ❜

❛ I don't even know where you end and I begin. ❜

❛ Believe me, if I could relax about anything ever, I promise you, I would. ❜

❛ As I'm sure you can imagine, emotions can run high in a place like this. ❜

❛ You never know when you might need to leave the country sans passport. ❜

❛ It made me feel like...I didn't know what was going to happen. And I liked that. ❜

❛ You can't blame yourself. We all did it together. ❜

❛ Dude, I don't even remember what socks I put on today. ❜

❛ I guess I'd kind of do anything to see him again, you know? ❜

❛ Moving in with you means everything in my life changes. ❜

❛ I think shit is gonna get a lot worse out here. ❜

❛ Thing is...it's one thing to point a gun at a person. It's another thing to use it. ❜

❛ There's a look people get when they realize they're going to die. It's that one. ❜

❛ My hand wasn't shaking because I was afraid. It was shaking because of how badly I wanted to do this. ❜

❛ I'm gonna live how I want to. How I know I'm meant to. And I'm gonna be the person that I know I am. ❜

❛ They're all lucky to have you. It's pretty rare to have a friend who's relentlessly got your back. ❜

❛ In small towns, everyone knows who and where the weirdos are. ❜

❛ I don't normally hitchhike and...look like this. ❜

❛ I know that you're depressed. I know that you can't see it, but I can always tell. ❜

❛ Yes, I am still depressed because it's kind of a forever thing, but I'm doing real work. ❜

❛ And I swear to God, if you lie to me again…I am so fucking over secrets. Like, I can't. ❜

❛ Oh, my fucking God. So, you… you killed a person? ❜

❛ Maybe one day I can talk to you about it, but for now, can that just be enough? ❜

❛ I don't understand why you won't see what's right in front of you. ❜

❛ I'm sorry I disappointed you. I love you even when you try to control me. But I'm okay now! ❜

❛ I think we need to get you out of here. ❜

❛ But I just got here. I don't - I don't want to leave you. ❜

❛ As parents, it's part of our job. We have to protect her, we have to shield her from making the same shitty mistakes we made. To throw our fucking bodies in front of her if that's what we have to do. ❜

❛ No, you can't deny this anymore. There is something deep inside of you that is connected to all of this. ❜

❛ So, you gonna tell me why you're here, or are we just gonna pretend this isn't super weird? ❜

❛ I'm doing a fucking thing here. I don't need you getting in my way. ❜

❛ If I happen to mention sacrificing anything on an altar, well, just ignore that part, okay? Thanks. ❜

❛ Do you get how lucky we are? Some people never find someone they trust enough to share their deepest secrets. ❜

❛ You think I'm capable of murder? ❜

❛ You're charming and impulsive, which are traits of most serial killers. Only, you pull it off. ❜

❛ Look, all I'm trying to say is, I like you regardless of your extracurricular activities. ❜

❛ That's medication for me to mind my own business. You should take two. ❜

❛ Maybe you don't have to be dying to have regrets. ❜

❛ I'm mixing my pop culture metaphors 'cause I'm fucking upset! ❜

❛ I can't ask you for your help 'cause I don't want to hurt any more of the people I love. ❜

❛ You should know better than anyone we can't define a person based on their past. ❜

❛ I don't need your fucking prayers, I need you to have my back. ❜

❛ We weren't alone out there. ❜

❛ You should get the hell away from me. I'm poison. I ruin people. ❜

❛ We did so much fucked up shit out there. And, yeah, maybe it was to survive. Maybe. But I don't think we deserved to. ❜

❛ Women have been having babies for millions of years. You're gonna be fine. ❜

❛ The wilderness recognizes your sacrifice. And so do I. ❜

❛ The power of that place. The god of that place. We did terrible things in Its name. ❜

❛ It's all your fault. There's just something wrong with you. You always do this. ❜

❛ Aren't you probably the last person who should be giving me legal advice right now? ❜

❛ I know I have no right to ask you this, but truly, what is going on with you? ❜

❛ I just want to know you haven't given up on love. ❜

❛ Maybe I have given up on love. But don't flatter yourself. It's not because of you. ❜

❛ You know I don't deserve your friendship, right? I just hurt people. ❜

❛ Suffering is inevitable. And only by meeting it with compassion can we truly begin to grow. ❜

❛ I never even wanted to be a mom. ❜

❛ I did not start out a bad person. But in case you haven't noticed, life doesn't tend to turn out the way you think it will. ❜

❛ Oh, no. What happened? Fuck, are we going to jail? ❜

❛ It's you and me against the whole world. ❜

❛ You lost a lot of blood and you were unconscious. We thought we lost you. ❜

❛ I kept surviving all this shit that should've killed me, and I just...I figured it meant something. You know, like maybe it meant that I had some kind of purpose in all of this, but, uh...Yeah. I'm not fucking seeing it. ❜

❛ I need to know why the fuck I'm still here. ❜

❛ Shouldn't you be in therapy? ❜

❛ I'm not like you, okay? I don't think of killing as a joke. ❜

❛ I really am very grateful that your hobby seems to be figuring out how to be the perfect serial killer. ❜

❛ I've always kept my daughter at arm's length. I think just out of fear that she would...die, I guess. Or maybe that she was never even real to begin with. ❜

❛ I can't have another death on my hands. ❜

❛ I can't wait for you. I don't have that kind of time. ❜

❛ Tell me, is there anything of value in this life that doesn't come with risk? ❜

❛ Does a hunt that has no violence feed anyone? ❜

❛ What, do you want to casually reminisce about our time in fucking oblivion? ❜

❛ Well, if I'm repressing things I don't know about, I am very okay with never figuring it out. ❜

❛ I know there's a lot of pain. You need to let it out. ❜

❛ I don't understand. You measured the grave to the standard six feet? ❜

❛ You're lying to me. And I want to know why. ❜

❛ Maybe [name] dying wouldn't be the worst thing. ❜

❛ When they get a whiff of how much of a liar your mom is, they'll realize that the ❜ psychopath apple doesn't fall far from the fucked-up, man-eating tree. ❜

❛ So, this is what you've all been doing with your lives? Chasing blackmailers and murdering lovers? ❜

❛ I think we can agree that it's in everyone's best interest that [name] is gone. ❜

❛ If I die, don't waste my body. Promise me. ❜

❛ I thought you loved all of me, like I love all of you. ❜

❛ We put ourselves in danger for you. You've been using us! ❜

❛ I've been trying to fix...No. I have been telling myself that I've been trying to fix things and make the problems go away, but the truth is, I've just been doing stuff that makes it worse. ❜

❛ We're all pretty messed up. It's time we finally fucking talk about it. ❜

❛ This isn't something that therapies can fix. ❜

❛ I think that you might be taking this whole, like, cult leader persona thing... a tad far. ❜

❛ I never meant... I didn't want this. ❜

❛ You started this. It's done. And it's going to save all of our lives. ❜

❛ I appreciate you trying to teach me...forgiveness. It's a nice idea. ❜

❛ I let him die in my place. It was supposed to be me. ❜

❛ You're a good person. You really don't belong in this place. ❜

❛ I'm not ashamed. I'm glad I'm alive. And I don't think that any of us who are still here should feel ashamed of that. Ever. ❜

❛ That was a beautiful false confession. I could see it came out of real love. ❜

❛ You want to help me move this body? ❜

❛ It's up to you. You can submit. Or you can run. ❜

❛ You know there's no "it," right? It was just us. ❜

❛ I never wanted to be in charge. ❜

❛ No. I'm not supposed to be here. ❜

❛ This is exactly where we belong. We've been here for years. ❜

❛ It's not evil. Just hungry. Like us. ❜

[crypt-void]

So I have this bit, right? It's been a while since I've done it, but if I bring it up with my friends, they can still easily understand or remember the joke.

It's called the Dan Rules. It's often comedically egotistical and vain and was made because out of our little group, it was a joke that I am (as an act) an eccetric (maybe enigmatic if I'm feeling fancy) person who does whatever the hell I want.

If people thought to question my behavior, it was often quickly followed with a "that's just Dan" from my friends and easily dismissed. Sure, some of my boldness was probably left over from my middle school years, where I felt I had to lean into my weirdness completely so people would see me more as a joke than a freak.

But then I found myself in a safe, accepting environment, one where the need to bite and snarl and run away never came. I waited a while for it to arrive for me to feel the need to play the part of the fool for my newfound companions entertainment. It shocked me when I was left with genuine love and compassion. I leaned out of self-deprecating humor and completely into the (very obviously joking and fake) role of an egotistical short and angry ruler. For fucks sake we still have the name of the group chat as "Dantopia". I still did the bit to entertain my friends, to keep them laughing at my antics. But this time, it was accompanied by my own laughter. I enjoyed a new sense of freedom it brought.

The Dan Rules came out of when we were messing around, and I'd lean into this foolish king role, and I would proclaim something insane or childish. A popular one was, "Dan is never wrong." Often followed by a warranted scoff.

But the second rule is a good one, I think, one that really shone through as a reminder that I am not now who I was before.

"I do what I want."

I hadn't had much freedom before I met my current group of friends. I was quiet and kept quiet at times. I felt muzzled and chained, and as if I was a dog because someone forced a collar around my throat and pulled me on a leash.

It wasn't only that I didn't have the choice of self-expression, though. I'd also seen what happened to people who gave too much into reckless. I grew up with the weight of their actions carried on my shoulders, and while I have always been bold in my identity and beliefs, I was quiet and still when presented the opportunities to escape from situations where people kicked me down for who I was. I feared what would happen if I left my old group. Ironically, this fear led me to be isolated.

I found myself almost completely alone in the pandemic, and my only saving grace was a new school with new people. New people who didn't tell me to shut up or that I was ugly or that I needed to stop acting like an animal or they'd treat me like one. Instead, I met friends who handled me gently and taught me it was okay to hug just as it's okay to bark, and they welcomed me. I felt at home. I felt as if I knew myself completely.

So, with the second rule, which I still follow to this day, I added a private note.

"I do what I want. Because I can trust myself to."

Know thyself

I can trust myself to bark or scowl or growl just as much as I can to love and kiss and hug. I can stay aware of what is and isn't good and how much or how little I can trust someone. I can be bold and loving all at once and welcome others with open arms and flashing fangs.

I am in complete control over myself, and even when I am doing something so I can see my friends laugh, I am also doing it because I can, and I do what I want.

[salsaseth]

After hearing my friend, James bring it up in a call, we started watching Lily Orchard's video about Pokemon to see all the bad takes in it.

When she starts playing the DS games, she uses a mod to smooth out the aliasing and uncap the game's framerate to 60. And gah damn does it look fuckin bad. Even worse is during the 3D games where she uses another mod to smooth out the 3D models and it looks like peeled oranges. Unnaturally smooth. But it does get funny when she talks about the game running like garbage when she's fucked with the game's logic. Like no shit, it's running at a framerate it was never meant for.

Something really funny also begins in the DS games. I don't know why, but she replaces one of the starters with Ralts, cuz she's got some favoritism for Gardevoir. All well and good, but you know, Ralts is weak as shit until it learns confusion and it's still frail. So it gets its ass kicked all the way until it evolves into Gardevoir. But because of how much asskicking it receives, and I swear this is true, she suspects the game is artificially raising the strength of the enemy pokemon, as a way to explain for why's she losing.

Almost as if the game is designed to use a stronger than average pokemon to get you through the early game. ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) Still, I don't fully understand why she refuses to use the regular starters. Especially when you can catch Ralts and Kirlia for most of the games. save for black and white. Speaking of.

One takeaway I've had from listening to it is what she says is more revealing about herself than what is intentional. The most telling thing is when she's going off about the Black and White characters for speaking about their ideals and opinions. I mean, she mashes through that with the A button (VISUAL NOVEL HATER SPOTTED), so it's when she's paying attention. I don't know if she just doesn't know what the game is supposed to be going for, or if she's just purposefully ignorant for the sake of contrarianism, but the game's themes are about truth and ideals. The truth is out there, but the ideals we have shape our perspective of the truth. Even Cheren, who represents the truth, is still shaped his ideal. It's a little more deeper than, 'Characters excited that they all have opinions,' but what do i know?

She rails against these characters, N in particular for having opinions and speaking them out. Meanwhile in X&Y, which its cast and characters are there to mostly stroke the character's dick, she vastly praises and prefers these characters to the ones in B&W. Hmmm. Characters that have opinions and speak them out are hated, while those that don't and heap praise on her are loved. I wonder if this says anything about her?

The video gets pretty boring the longer it goes on. The hot take well starts drying up and it quickly becomes a bad screenshot let's play. "Then I did this, and then I did that!"

That's all I got to report. Besides the shoehorning in of lefty takes. I don't know if it's because she's not funny or if she wields everything with as much subtlety as anvil-nunchuks, but when there's an opportunity to make a joke with a leftist-slant, it's as heavy handed as a Titan's ballsack and as funny as stale bread. I'm a leftist bastard myself, but every time the jokes were shoehorned in, I'm like, "The funny? Where is it?!" Especially when it was about Looker and Nanu. I get not liking the police, but this isn't the time or place for it. Leave the jokes to the professionals. Like my friend Plate. Several unemployment jokes were made at Lily's expense, and each one was funnier than the last.

I'll report back if there's anything worth commenting on. Me and the friends got to the end of Sun and Moon, so we have SwSh and SV left.

And if you had time to read this 'post', Lily, I think you had time to 'post' your resume to get a job ;D ;D ;D

[nomoreusername]

Pretend

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:To help savor the rest of his time here, Newt keeps pretending to be fine.

I was breaking. Slowly, steadily, gradually, I was falling apart. I was going to be something evil, something not even recognizable as once human.

Maybe I should say something. Maybe I should tell somebody. Maybe I should speak up and request a side mission for another cure like the one Brenda got.

If we focus on me though, all of the attention won't be on Minho. That would make saving him harder than it has to be because of me. I can't do that to him. I won't do that to my best friend.

It’s wrong how now that I actually want to live I’m going to die. It’s every level of messed up that there is. I overcame so much. I felt okay waking up in the morning. I made friends who mean the world. I got an amazing girlfriend that I had an entire future planned with.

Not anymore I guess. Just as my life begins, it will end. Just like that, it's lights out for me.

Sighing, I sat on the roof, ignoring the chill from the morning air. In my short sleeves, I looked at the growing bite, wondering how it could all come to this.

Deep down, I know Y/N will come looking for me soon. She’s not a very good sleeper so when she wakes up and realizes I’m not there, she’ll try to find me. She probably will too. I’ll probably tell another lie for the sake of keeping attention off of me.

Figuring there was too much sunlight for comfort now even though it was just my eyes adjusting, I slipped my jacket pack on and went to leave. Plus, I swear that I'm going to vomit if I kept looking at it. I’m both repulsed by it and amazed that I’ve kept this under wraps for so long. Surely, that's some kind of record. Longest hidden Crank transformation. That's worthy of a trophy.

Too bad the reward is Minho living a nice life and me dying.

While I’m nothing but relieved that he’ll end up okay, I’m admittedly bitter about the cards I’ve been dealt. It's like the game was rigged from the start and definitely not in my favor.

I’m a lot more tired than I’ve ever been now, and I know that getting up hours before everyone else isn't helping. I’m sure it will take a toll on my face too. I’m probably going to die with dark bags under my eyes.

I’ve got to play it cool until then. I’ve got to go under the radar, get Minho, and make sure everyone I care about and love gets out of the city and to the Safe Haven. Plain and simple.

Putting my hand on the door, I went to open it only for it to fly open, nearly hitting me in the face. Letting go, I quickly backed away a safe distance. Standing straight up, I found myself completely calm. I guess after getting jumped by a bunch of Cranks the things that used to startle you just seem less significant.

My girl was standing there, a sheepish expression on her face as she apologized for not knocking. Playing with her hands, she met my eyes as waited for me to respond.

“It's okay. You didn't know I was here,”I assured her, giving her a genuine, hopefully regular smile. Letting out a relieved sigh, she then asked what I was doing up here anyways.

As I looked at her, at her sweet face, at her warm eyes, at her soft lips, at her gentle and full of kindness personality, I was overcome with the urge to blurt it all out. I just wanted to drop to my knees and cry. I just wanted her to promise that she wouldn't even tell anybody but instead hold me tight and never let me go.

“Just thinking,”I shrugged.

I would not be doing any of those things. Not today, not tomorrow, and not for as long as I can help it. While I’m still in control, I’m going to savor every bit of it.

I'm also going to treasure every second I have left with her. Not the stressed out ones spent arguing and planning. Nice and peaceful moments that would give her just a few more good memories before I left.

“Do you want to sit out here for a little bit and watch the sunrise with me?”I offered.

“Of course. You know that's basically my favorite date with you,”She accepted, a wide grin on her face as she stepped out and shut the door behind her. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I placed a kiss on her temple as I walked her over to the edge to just sit and talk.

“Yeah. Mine too,”I agreed. Resting her head on my shoulder, she held my hand that was around her as her other was on my knee. Placing my free hand over that one, I traced circles on her knuckles with my thumb as I took a deep breath, taking in her scent of honey. A scent just as soft and comforting as her.

“I know you tell me I say it enough, but just in case I haven't lately, I love you,”She told me, the happiness clear as day in her tone.

“I love you too. Remember that no matter what I’ll never stop loving you? Remember that I only ever want you to be happy? Okay?”I whispered, holding back a lump in my throat.

“I know that, and moments like these are enough to keep me going. They're that consistent, good thing that I just know we’ll have forever. You know what I mean?”

Closing my eyes to stop the tears, I squeezed her hand as I tried to pretend her words were true.

“Yeah. I do.”

[witchofcustom]

Saving The Girl (Great Saiyaman (Son Gohan) x Reader)

Summary: After being saved by the mysterious Great Saiyaman, you wanted to repay him. He knew the perfect way to do so.

CW: Very minor mentions of violence at the start, NSFW

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I’m in my “I actually feel like writing for once” phase that happens like once a year. The idea for this one has been at the back of my head for a while.

Two men had been holding you at gunpoint, demanding you to hand over your capsules and money. However, before you could do so, a man swooped in, kicking the guns out of the men’s hands and catching you in the process.

He was wearing a green suit with a red cape, along with a helmet. It felt almost like a childishly stereotypical depiction of a superhero, but there wasn’t any time to complain.

“You two better not do anything like this again! Or The Great Saiyaman will come to uphold justice once more!” The man says before striking a pose. His voice sounded familiar, but you weren’t sure from where. Before the two men could retaliate further, Saiyaman picked you up bridal style and flew off, taking you somewhere safe and secluded.

“T-Thank you so much mister! You saved my life!”

“It’s no problem. That’s just the job of a hero such as myself.”

“Is there any way I can repay you? I don’t have much money but…”

“Don’t worry. I do this for the sake of justice. I have no need for payment!”

“I’d feel bad if I don’t though…”

Your teary eyes and innocent face made Saiyaman’s heart skip a beat. He could feel his pants tightening and blush developing on his face. He was thankful that he was wearing his helmet so you wouldn’t notice.

“W-Well… I do know a way you can repay me… But we’ll have to go back to your place first!”

You agreed, not noticing the chuckle from Saiyaman as he grabbed you and flew to your place.

“Um… If you don’t mind me asking… How do you know where I live…? The last person around your age who came over to my place was a classmate who was helping me with a school project.”

“O-Oh don’t worry citizen! I once fought off a villain near this house and remember seeing you!”

You weren’t sure if you completely believed him, especially as you could tell his super hero persona was starting to slip up, but you were curious as to what he would do, so you didn’t say anything. Not to mention, on closer inspection you could tell how attractive he was. Despite the dorky outfit, his body was very well toned and sexy.

“My parents aren’t home right now, is that okay?” You said while unlocking the front door.

“That’s no problem at all.”

You took him to your room, sitting down on your bed. You talked with him a bit about things like school, hobbies, and the like. You brought up one of your best friends at school, Son Gohan, and how he’s the only other boy your age who’s been in your room. Saiyaman couldn’t handle holding back much longer and kissed you on the lips. It was a long and passionate kiss. Saiyaman had very soft lips, but there was also a sense of roughness as he grabbed your left breast.

“Well citizen, are you willing to repay me?”

You nodded enthusiastically. Even if you weren’t sure where this would go, you didn’t want to risk losing an encounter with such an attractive man.

Saiyaman began to remove his pants and then underwear. His cock sprung free, already leaking some precum. He was very embarrassed, he’d never done anything like this before. He began to wonder if what he was doing was wrong, but after seeing you undress, he knew he had to go through with it.

He began to play with your pussy, mainly rubbing your clitorus. You began to moan from such pleasure. This made Saiyaman get even more turned on. Your voice was the cutest he had ever heard, and he never imagined he would be in a situation like this. He then stuck two fingers into you, eliciting an even cuter moan. You thought he would have taken his gloves off, but the silky feeling of them on the inside of your vagina made it feel all the better.

“I-I’m sorry Great Saiyaman… I’ve never done anything like this before…”

“Don’t worry citizen, I’ll treat you right! You’re doing great.”

Saiyaman kept fingering you with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other. His gloves were soaked. He wanted nothing more than to take his helmet off and devour your juices, but he didn’t want to risk exposing his identity. If only he wore his sunglasses and turban…

“Well citizen, it’s time for the main course! Are you ready?”

You nodded enthusiastically. Saiyaman took a gulp and lined up his penis with your vagina. You just now fully realized just how big it was. You were excited but also a bit nervous.

“Alright citizen, it’s for me to take your repayment!”

He then thrusts into you. You didn’t expect such fast movements from the man who had just been so soft. But you weren’t complaining at all. He was so rough and animalistic.

As Saiyaman grew closer to climaxing, he started to think of all kinds of things. It was like something awoke within him. Things such as biting you or tying you up. But he quickly pushed these thoughts away. He’s a hero after all!

“Are you about to cum, citizen?”

“Y-Yes Saiyaman… I am!”

“Let’s release together then!”

He picked up the pace of his thrusts, as the two of you reached climax together. He was too engrossed in the throes of pleasure that he forgot to pull out. The idea of you becoming pregnant with his baby, someone you thought you didn’t even know, was really appealing to him however. He wanted to keep his cock inside of you for much longer, but he knew he had to go.

Eventually he did pull out and helped clean you up. He treated you with such care.

“Um… If you’d like to stay the night you can… Saiyaman…”

“That is an appealing offer, however I have to uphold justice, and bad guys could be roaming the streets at any time!” He said as he began to put his clothes back on. He could still smell your scent from his gloves and it made him want to do everything all over again.

“However citizen if you are ever in trouble, call for Great Saiyaman, vanquisher of evil and ally of justice, and I will be there to save you!” He said while striking a pose.

You laughed before saying, “Well if I can repay you in ways like this then maybe I should get into trouble again~”

Your flirting made Saiyaman almost lose his cool, and he quickly gave his goodbyes and flew off.

He returned home rather late, which made his mother quite angry. He was quite worried that she would find out about what he did, but thankfully he wasn’t caught.

The next day at school some people were talking about the Great Saiyaman, most insulting him for his outfit and mannerisms. You, however, stuck up for him, saying how he’s a true hero.

“You agree that Great Saiyaman is amazing, right Gohan?”

Your classmate, and best friend, Son Gohan, nodded. He had been acting odd all day. His face had been red and he had been looking away from you.

“Y-Yeah I guess…”

[tobiasdrake]

That's everyone. Time to check out the Favor Tree, then we're on to the Clocktower meetup.

So how's this work? Do I just tell the tree what I want? Do I yank off a leaf and then write my request on it?

I dunno. Given that the rules are lax enough that a Favor Tree is as simple as "the biggest tree nearby" I think there's probably some leeway here. There may not be any particular rules for how we're supposed to pray to it.

Then again, that is the kind of logic that leads to the Bystander Effect. If everybody thinks like that and then nobody wishes for Vaugarde's salvation, that's a whoopsy-doodle. So it's better to inconvenience myself, at the risk of redundancy, for the sake of locking in aid for people in crisis.

Of course, it's not impossible to have your cake and eat it when it comes to wish-granting. All of these potential wishes are things that my team wants to do once the King has been defeated. Granting a wish for these things necessarily requires that Vaugarde be saved.

Therefore, I can wish for something for myself that nonetheless adds the strength of my wish to whatever existing pool of wishes towards Vaugarde's salvation already exists! This is what we call "gaming the system".

And while I wish the best for everyone, there is one person whose desires matter more than anybody else's.

Odile, Maribelle, and Isabeau all have dreams and ambitions for the future. That's great. I'm happy for them. But Bonnie doesn't. Bonnie has trauma. If I'm going to spend a wish on anyone, it's going to be for Bonnie to be healed.

If only one of us can have what they want, it should be them. A lost child's wish to save their family is worth more than gold.

Okay PARTY TIME

Alright y'all, come clean. Who ripped the bread in half and just left it on the table like that?

Or. Wait. Is that the bread, of "breaking bread"? Did we literally break bread? And then not eat it?

Are... are you supposed to eat it? Is it rude to break the bread and then not eat it? Or is it sacrilegious to eat broken bread? I feel like the bread's just going to waste if you don't eat it. But maybe it's a holy gesture? Maybe the act of letting the bread go stale... symbolizes its Change from a state of freshness to a state of badness.

Or maybe one of us here is just a dipshit who doesn't understand the phrase. Looking at you, Isa. On the "Risk of Dipshit" Scale, you're Suspect #2.

Suspect #1 is me but I'm, like, 65% sure I didn't do it.

You made the entire feast all by yourself? I am simultaneously very impressed with you and also tremendously disappointed in the rest of us. Four grown-ass adults and not one of us pitched in to assist the child in the kitchen. I am ashamed of every single one of us.

SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH

Uh. No. Appreciate the sentiment but you're wrong. I don't know if you have Pocket Notes on the stakes of this thing but "Everyone dies tomorrow" isn't something people get to opt out of.

I know you don't want to think of membership in this crew as compulsory but... it kind of is. Our options are "Roll the dice tomorrow" or "Find a nice place to die". The latter of which is something most of the town is actively preparing for.

People are capable of tremendous acts of selfless courage when they have no hope of survival. With that in mind, I intend to be very brave tomorrow. There's only one place to do that.

You know, I'm used to rousing campfire speeches having a lot more swearing, raging narcissism, and thematically inappropriate criminality. But this is nice too. All-a y'all are swell. I'm happy to be a part of this.

My dude, I was wide awake. I slept all day today. I was just trying to be politely still so everyone else can sleep, while quietly going over Rock Paper Scissors strategies in my head.

The trick is to not throw the wrong symbol. But to make them think you're going to throw the wrong symbol, so they play into your hands when you throw the right symbol. *sage wisdom*

I love you too, man. Still making sense of things too much to decide if that's romantic or platonic but one way or another we're tight.

Mm. Pillow beats Rock. Good to know. See, that is why I've been silently reviewing Rock Paper Scissors strategies.

Good night, Isa. We'll continue this talk on the day after tomorrow, so long as it comes to pass.

[kerubimcrepin]

Live-Read: "Dofus Manga" - part 3

+ A big Atcham Analysis

I'll only briefly point out that he has an ear ring, or that Ancestral Z draws him with hair tufts for cuteness' sake. We have to keep moving towards the point where I analyse him.

Atcham seems to be quite famous, — to the point Dodge is chastised for not knowing him, despite being an ecaflip, — and one of his nicknames is "the killer of killers". Very, very interesting...

"You're the one who made a huge mistake, Katar, by stealing the sword I had taken to repair... It belonged to my family for generations."

Obsessed with all the implications this has. You have no idea just how obsessed I am. To Atcham, swords aren't just weapons, — they're objects of sentimental value, a way to protect himself, a tool.

And it turns out that Katar threw his, and I quote Katar, "piece of shit sword" to the moon.

We've discussed Atcham and Kerubim's dead family, lack of support system, and young age when they lost everything plenty here. Same for their irrational hatred for one another.

No need to tell you how awful this must feel for him. Imagine someone throwing your dead father's picture into the river. For fun.

"And the smith was a good friend of mine." Man :(

(He's either not that good at telling that someone is scared of him, which is sad, — or the smith that Katar killed was joking, when he said that he was afraid of Atcham.)

What follows is the most important scene I have for characterizing Atcham:

"The... the six Dofus. You have reunited the six Dofus! And what are you planning to do with them? Do you have an idea already?" "They intend to defeat Cornu Mollu."

If I speak on Cornu Mollu, this post will devolve into a 5-hour lecture on how much I hate the Twelve gods, — how Oropo "Did Nothing Wrong", — and how Sadida, Iop, and Ecaflip in particular need to be [VIOLENT LANGUAGE OMITTED] for the things they have done. Let's just say that he's a demon guy who rules Brakmar at the time of manga, ok?

"You guys are comedians. PHAHAHA! The guy is stronger than a god... And your Dofus can't change that! And his armies have only continued to expand — they're invincible."

Atcham laughs them out of town like clowns for thinking they can defeat Cornu Mollu. Which is more than understandable. But it is interesting, how he speaks of Brakmar here... Not very patriotic, he.

"I wish you courage in your collective suicide. As for me, I'm going to find myself a little island, hoping to escape all this!"

The thing about Atcham, is that mostly, he just cares about himself, and the things he likes.

He doesn't care about the city he's in, — outside the fact that his brother is on the opposing side. He doesn't care about the world, or saving it, — because the world certainly hasn't cared about him!

And he WILL flee, if it saves his skin from any unnecessary pain or danger.

What he cares about is his own damn self, because nobody else is going to.

For this reason, his personal moral compass is entirely dependent on saving his own skin, because he has only ever had himself to rely upon. He tries not to be too cruel, — yet, if the mood strikes him, he becomes hyperviolent just for the sake of fun.

But the thing about him is that he will leave, if things aren't going well. He won't stay.

This includes fleeing Brakmar at the first sight of trouble. And chances are, it also has, multiple times, included Joris and Kerubim after the movie.

While I will go more in detail on this later, sometime after Leorictus's nightmare reign and Joris's huppermage horror beyond our comprehension, Atcham has left Kerubim and Joris to return to Brakmar's side.

As far as I am aware, it is not because of some deep falling out, — they still seem to love one another. Kerubim has an instance of mentioning Atcham, in a pretty teasing manner, — and in the quest that involves catching him for his crimes, Kerubim comes to bail him out with a defense attorney speech at the ready to explain away why the atrocities are both a misunderstanding and completely justified, — but the thing is that Atcham left them, and began doing weird stuff, like crimes. In Kerubim's own Ecaflipus temple.

My personal thought is that Atcham keeps leaving because he's scared.

He cares a lot, — because they're the first people to ever care about him, and it drives him crazy how little they care for themselves. It hurts seeing them in pain.

Leorictus's reign probably was hard, emotionally speaking, — Joris wasn't even legally allowed to live in Bonta, or anywhere else, as a huppermage, — and yet, in Dofus MMO, judging from NPC dialogue about how Kerubim only moved back to Astrub somewhat recently,

— and Joris's presence in the game before the implementation of Huppermages as a class (I.E. their return from Rok Island), all signs point to the fact that this whole time, as Huppermages fled to Rok Island, — The Trio stayed in Bonta despite the danger, for some insane fucking reason. Probably heroism. Probably trying to save people. (people who have read my fic Fragile will uhh. Recognize this premise. Yeah. I think a lot about this all. To the point of writing a fic about this insane era of their lives.)

I think Atcham hates how responsible he feels for them, and the batshit insane things, — heroism? saving the world?! helping other people?!? self-sacrifice!?!? — they make him want to believe in, and how afraid he is of losing them. It is for him, to agree to do things he would never do before, for them, — and it's scary, just as scary as how dependent he is now, despite being ok with loneliness before them.

And sometimes, it's just too much, and too fast. So, he leaves, again, and again.

But on a positive note, I want to believe he is mostly over leaving them whenever he gets too stressed out, by Wakfu times. Maybe it's the maturity that comes with age, — or realizing how much they need him after Ogrest's Chaos, but I want to believe that he now expresses his frustration in other, more productive ways: herding these two idiots away from danger.

Ranging from: subtly insisting that Joris doesn't go on insane suicide missions all alone just to protect them (Just like Atcham, Joris's anxiety for his family makes him very irrational at times.), and trying to get Kerubim to always be ready for battles, while protecting him because he isn't,

To just plain having the willpower to tell the world's most stupidly self-sacrificial man "Did you consider that the floating eyes in the sky aren't any of our business? :)"

Which is pretty funny.

Anyway, yeah, Joris is not surviving the things Kerubim and Atcham will do to him, after he tells them that he went to something called "The Necroworld", almost got trapped there, and then almost died 20 times.

[incorrect-jojolands-quotes]

my sad usagi ending hc

So, a while ago, I had this idea that Usagi was actually the kid who owned the pet parrot on the bus that was burned by Jodio. I decided to take it a step further and make myself sad by coming up with this headcanon on what happens when Usagi dies.

Usagi's father had a pet parrot all his life and it was a rather old yet friendly bird that Usagi grew up helping take care of. When Usagi's father died, Usagi decided to start taking care of the bird rather than have his mom give it away.

In a way, this bird was the remaining physical connection Usagi had with his father. Unable to openly mourn for him for his mother's sake, Usagi would spend hours taking care of this bird and finding comfort in its presence as a way to cope with losing his dad. When he began high school and became worried about whether he would be bullied or not fit in, Usagi would sneak his bird into school so he wouldn't feel alone. The students eventually caught on and they started to hang out with Usagi in hopes of hanging out with his pet bird. Usagi became well-liked, which helped him avoid bullies, and he would often sneak his bird to school for his own emotional support.

When the bus caught fire and the students on it were ultimately evacuated after the flames were extinguished, the bird somehow escaped amiss the chaos. Usagi woke up in the hospital soon after and the first thing he asked was where his bird went. The firemen were sympathetic and the police tried to gently tell him the bird perished, but Usagi refused to believe that his bird died in the flames. He swore he saw the bird still alive on the bus when the flames mysteriously extinguished before he blacked out. His mother tried to persuade him in getting a new bird but Usagi refused to get one as a replacement. For a while, he made lost-and-found papers, he asked his "friends" to help find his bird, and he even waited in the front of his house hoping the bird would fly back home. But, the bird never came back. Usagi tries to hide it but he has an overwhelming amount of guilt because he lost the one thing his father used to cherish while he was alive.

Cut to some time in The JOJOLands. Usagi, through spending time with Team Jodio, learns to find closure with his dad's death. However, he isn't able to start anew because he now finds himself dying. He sacrificed his life to save Team Jodio and allow them to escape their enemies, but he was now about to die in the thick of a jungle without anyone able to save him. It would be a while before a wild animal, a passing tourist, or local would find his body and declare him dead. He doesn't know how to feel about all of this besides the pain his body feels as it become weaker and his eyes become heavier. That's when he suddenly hears a familiar yet weary chirp come closer and closer.

His bird finally came back. Years of living in the wild and old age has left it seemingly unrecognizable, yet Usagi knew based on how the bird weakly landed on Usagi's chest and caressed itself against his face was the parrot he lost years ago. The bird itself was trying to apologize about disappearing for so long but grateful to find its owner's son. It too was about to die due to natural causes and Usagi felt it start to move less with each breath. Both of them knew that the two only had so much time before they died. But, both were also happy to at least see each other one last time. Usagi, despite the unbearable pain he had just felt a while ago, died peacefully smiling, knowing that his wish was finally granted.

And that wish... was to see his dad again.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her majesty || The Re-Write

Snippet of “her Majesty” rewrite. I have absolutely loved re-writing this fanfic in my spare time and it has been one of my favourite secrets to keep, as I have changed the storyline. It has taken me quite a while to write the chapters I have, but I have throughly thought this process out. I’m still trying to figure out some details and plots but I’m ready to share a small snippet of what arose today. I’m not entirely sure I want to keep the title as “Her Majesty” or if I want to change the title to “Veil of Glass.” Feel free to let me know your thoughts and ideas!

Also, I adore the new portrayal of Anna and Harry. He’s soft but not too soft and she’s determined to stand on her own two feet and not have Harry save her every time she needs a saving grace.

Snippet of chapter 4

He walks back towards me, his steps deliberate, his gaze unwavering. Taking my hand in his, he speaks softly, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that tugs at my heartstrings, "If you want me to stay, tell me now."

It feels as though the tenderness of his voice is ripping me open to my core, forcing me to fall within his trans, and my turmoil threatens to boil over me.

A whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within me. I yearn for him to stay, to wrap me in his embrace and chase away the shadows of doubt. Yet, I hesitate, unable to articulate the tangled mess of thoughts and feelings that hold me back.

Caught between the desire to be strong and the fear of revealing my vulnerability, I falter. The words catch in my throat, a silent plea lingering on my lips, as I struggle to make sense of the tumultuous storm raging within me.

As I watch him step back, a wave of panic crashes over me, threatening to drown me in its suffocating embrace, breath my breath, slowly drowning me. I've always prided myself on standing strong, on never needing anyone to lean on. But now, in this moment of uncertainty, I feel the ground beneath me slipping away, leaving me teetering on the edge of an abyss I never knew existed.

What is going on? I’m suffocating on my own air.

Amidst the opulence of this royal court, where every move is scrutinized and every word is weighed, I've never felt more alone. The weight of my position, the burden of expectation, it all presses down on me, threatening to crush my lungs beneath its relentless force.

And yet, amidst the chaos of my own inner turmoil, one thought burns brighter than all the rest: the fear of losing him. Not to the monarchy, not to the whispers of court intrigue, but to the vast expanse of uncertainty that lies beyond these gilded walls. What if he walks away and never comes back? What if I'm left to face this world alone, with nothing but memories to keep me company? What a painful and sorrowful life that would be to live.

The answers elude me, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand, leaving me grasping at shadows in the dark. All I truly know is that I want him to stay tonight, to chase away the demons that haunt my dreams and soothe the ache that lingers in the depths of my soul. But I can't bring myself to ask him to put off his plans, whatever they may be, to sacrifice his own desires for the sake of my fleeting whim.

So I stand there, silent and still, my heart aching with a longing I dare not voice, as he waits for my answer, his eyes searching mine for a glimpse of the truth that lies buried beneath the surface of my stoic facade.

Finally, I find myself. I swallow hard and I shake my head, “I will be just fine,” I fake a smile, praying to the man upstairs that I can compose myself and keep my integrity intact. I am not going to stumble over my own emotions. “You’re going to miss your flight if you keep standing here waiting for me to break down, telling you that I need you to stay.”

He heavily sighs, aware that not only am I lying, but I am also telling the truth— a true paradox and conundrum of unknown, undesired emotions that I cannot piece together.

End chapter

I would like to add that I played around with an AI to help convey the emotions more effectively and to escalate the tone I was trying to persuade. I’m utterly impressed at how much it truely helped and how it guided the vision I had and helped articulate it into words. All of these chapters, I visually see in my head and sometimes it’s hard describing the exact emotion my characters are feeling or describing exactly what I see. Anyways, if you’ve managed to read this far, thank you! I hope you have liked my sudden sharing of a chapter I’ve kept hidden for over a year. Oops.

[lizaluvsthis]

What got you to start drawing the boys do you take requests? Cause I like the cafe au

IT MIGHT SEEM CRAZY ON WHAT IM BOUT TO S-

When I said I've been a SMG4 fan for 4 years, I left the channel for i dunno how many weeks or months has it been. Then one day I saw WOTFI 2023 recommended in my youtube page and was.

"Wotfi 2023? But I thought- wait- who are these characters again?"

Turns out I forgot that Ive only seen SMG4 and SMG3's (cocomelon ass) designs during wotfi 2022 where it was both of their first redesigns from the movie. I stopped watching for a bit cuz I got busy.

Then I came back to see they were both redesigned in a better version now. Now that I thought about "where was their second redesign then?"

So I knew that I had to binge watch every single episodes from smg4's channel right after wotfi 2022

I then saw how much Three has changed ever since after the 2022th christmas episode.

If I were to be honest, watching igbp for the first time in my life even Mar10 day. I was about 85% sure that Smg3 worries too much for Smg4's sake.

They both are cosmically linked and three can feel what the other of his partner is feeling soooooo?

*circles both of my hands*

Three's gay. He looked fruity he felt fruity. During the movie and during right after he helped four's ass to get his channel back from running again.

It suddenly gave me some time for my brain to tell me "DUDE WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS COULD BE A HINT- THIS IS MAYBE AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS!" I responded to my brain like- HELL YEAH I'M NOTING THAT DOWN.

Cuz I cant just sit here and just "watch the movie without sayin nothin" I HAD to do something AND make analysis about it because thats what I do when I notice simple details!

So when smg3 confessed those feelings of his to Smg4 and even running to save his life back again and even after saying "we're friends!" This gave me a bit of a shock. Three. Did you know what you did? Did you realize how much it meant for smg4? Did you FORGET- that you said you and him werent friends during the 2020th wotfi?

So then after all of this time... that means smg3 has been the one and always a tsundere to smg4

Even after the castle disappeared, him and three's chemistry started going into an actual progress from both of their chemistry from the relationship.

Thats a dedication for me right there. I do it not only for fun, I do it for my wants, have, and needs.

I know its funny for a minor like me to do all of this dedicaded in just a simple job, I have all kinds of specialities to include my works and skills and use them for this fandom again from how I did to the past ones. (But those past fandoms are dead-)

Ahem- what was I talking about again? Oh right- 3 and 4... sorry got a little bit too chatty-

So I noticed even more about Smg3's notebook and was like- "gahd damn- three had his own personal notebook this whole time?! Whats even inside of it? I'm curious..." so yeah-

Now jumping to where I watched 2023 of wotfi again (twice now) to see its context about it- I was flabberGHASTED in after the "drawing" and also the mysterious tv guy whose also appearing on as the final antagonist in the modern era and a new one from the new era.

"Holysht. This is about to go bonkers for the fans making up stuff about those 'what-ifs' that smg4 made from the previous video back then. (The part where waluigi won or desti being alive)

I'm curious enough to see what happens and even if its about tv adware. Yes too.

(THERE. In November I started to become quite more invested from the fandom and decided to drop in my luggage and load out all of my junks called Info-Analysis?)

So- hello! (Again-) :D it was a pleasure meeting every and one of you all- I stopped in just to come back from the fandom that I never made commentary about but now I can ^^

I started with doodling and knowing basic anatomy and shapes of SMG3 and SMG4's design (the new one) so that I could start on doodling about them. But what I didnt expect for myself is that I had created a long time chapter of "Indigo Secret" that wasn't supposed to be there on purpose.

It was just supposed to be a "silly" comic about it from where ■■■■■■■■ to ■■■■■■■ about the problem and then the part in this that came into ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ from ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

*BEEP*

I took myself a big motive after my blog gained 10+ followers and more notes. I thought working here 24/7 would make me feel something more for destiny and the trip!

So- yeah. Work. :) even when I'm at school I also complete my assignments and all of the shts and after that I can continue on with continuing the pages and with some cute doodles with the boys from a scenario playing through my head.

Now you have me making all of this and that ^^

Thats whay I'm popular for :)

--

---

--

2nd answer...

Thank you for liking the cafe au! It means so much to the both for me and shay from the collab to move on!

I did say from my boundaries I take free art request 1 at a time only- and I could allow a second art request if I do have the time ^^

Yes I do take art request :)

(Except for-

oc-shipping with SMG3/SMG4 cuz they're both together in the au

NSFW

Some stuff that I can't approve on-)

Ask away :)

Thanks for asking me stuffs anon I really enjoy talking ^^

[alena-reblobs]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol10 Part 1

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1Vol02 Part 2 | Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 | Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1 | Vol08 Part2 | Vol09 Part1 | Vol09 Part2 | Vol10 Part1

I'm early for this one cause I won't have time the rest of the week. And as a bonus it's like doing the presentation first: after that I can lay back, watching all the others knowing that I've put it already behind me. This is only part1 but I trust you've read the whole volume when you read this commentary! I might make 3 parts with all the images I'm putting in this now, haha....

Chapter 1:

Sad music playing in the bg, all other noises canceled out, room relatively cool: let's go.

I can't get over the fact how Wolfwood's playing scnes with Vash out in his head. And this moment here! It was such an important discussion, their first clash of ideals....And now Wolfwood wants to prove him wrong. That he is NOT giving up hope so easily.

"Do not tell me you are betting on hopes" I thought you were some kind of religious cult?? Believing in the holy creatures? Well there really isn't much believe left in this dying old man. Such a poor soul. He doesn't believe in his own religion. He might once have believed in his god (aka Knives) but would want him dead now- only that he doesn't believe he can kill him so he doesn't believe in a future for anyone. He doesn't believe in his pupils and doesn't believe them when they say they might know a way of salvation. And now he's just trying to drag everybody down with him.

And Wolfwood IS believing....with his whole heart and without a doubt. Oh my god. (And he hasn't forsaken you either!!!)

Disapproving of this weapon head tilt which is reserved for gay battle couples only!

Can you stop shooting this man for one fucking second

FOR ONE SECOND

FOR FUCK'S SAKE

I wonder if we can read this hesitation by Razlo as a sentiment of Livio deep deep within who might NOT want to kill Wolfwood? It could also just be Razlo's shock at seeing how he misinterpreted his opponent though.

Go to hell old man.

Chapter 2:

I need to remind myself that Razlo is not just "kill kill kill!" or blindly following Chapel. He's also nuanced and got lots of respect for this worthy opponent (and ex colleague of his, ex friend/brother of Livio).

This title here is giving me emotions and I want that image as a patch to sew on my backpack please

I can't really distinguish...is he talking about a bad chill? As in making him uneasy? He looks like it, but I'm not sure..

I gotta say shooting yourself is a hardcore statement. Great, now he's a MAD angry old ass of a man. But to Razlo I say: Have your forgotten the girl Livio saved??? And you, yous saved Razlo countless times!! Did they not need you both? D:

Miss Melanie is such a lovable character!! Go and protect your kids...even if you know the enemy is far too powerful! I love this little comedic moment in between this whole mess (And sh reminds me a bit of my mother, too)

Why else? Because you're an arsehole maybe, or because he has learned that he can chose not to be a killer and be a decent person?

This is such such such an evil move of Chapel. "Here, look at this boy, once innocent and a part of your family...now he's changed into a disgusting creature! Look at him and judge him and laugh at him and his poor life."

And the worst part, exactly this has been one of Wolfwood's biggest fears. Because next to not being able to save his family at the orphanage...if one of them would see Wolfwood as he is now and decide that he is a despicable person, someone who doesn't deserve redemption, it would mean he is truly lost. Then he would be only a killer and nothing more.

Thank god Melanie is having none of it. And look how Wolfwood's eye that was just a moment ago wide with shock is closing, his whole feature relaxing. This is what he needed...her telling him that he could have come home anytime. That he is still and will always be! A part of their family.

Of course you moron you could have done this together!! If you didn't run off alone...trying to do things on your own. Somehow, now that I think about this...this really feels like act of a boy that didn't have time to grow up. Running off to the orphanage was not Wolfwood- it was Nicholas doing it. Not Wolfwood the Punisher but Nicholas the Boy. Why is this thought making me emotional?

Fuck we see him thinking, thinking fast of a way to still save the situation, seeing the vials, maybe wondering if he will be able to do it with them can he do it can he do it

You godforsaken idiot why did you have to bite them down and seal your fate

And in the moment when Nicholas needed him most, Vash came. But he came a second too late.

Look, there's just something about Vash coming to his rescue in this moment where Wolfwood is at his lowest. Completely ripped apart, laid bare before his loved ones...These two pages, and the sole sentence "I've made a friend" is something so poetic...they make me internally scream because YES you've made a friend, you both love and trust each other deeply...you really have made such a good friend. SOBBING

[kayla-marie-writes]

I have too many fic ideas. I put them in my drafts and work on them, publishing and/or updating as I please. I have one with Zain going to university, but it's sort of like Nevermore... with humans in the mix. He has two monster-hunting dads and a badass uncle. As in Nick. But I've got to do more world-building with it. And yes, I'm showing my age with the play on "Werewolves in London." I regret nothing. Here's the cover.

The Prologue:

-ZAIN-

A lot has changed in the last two years. Almost losing your father to parasitic vampires can put things in perspective for you. I'd always thought that I'd lose him to the war. I thought I had when he left some time ago on my eighteenth birthday, and he hadn't come back. When I saw my gift on the table and heard the whispers of one last stand against the Americans, I put two and two together.

Imagine my surprise to hear from him about a day or two later, telling me that not only was he alive, but he had been quarantined and that there was someone he wanted me to meet. Someone who has saved his life over and over again.

An American named Jason Kolchek. I didn't trust him at first, but once my father came home, they told me the truth about the temple of Naram-Sin. He told me the government had granted him asylum for defecting against Dar, who I had never cared for.

When I went to University, he split time between the United States with Jason and London with me. They also paid my father and the other survivors off. I met another American, Nick Kay, who my father told me had met him with kindness in the temple. Jason admitted that it had taken him time. I appreciated being told the truth. From then on, I vowed to do better. I stopped stealing. I focused on my studies and the admission process.

Once I started classes, I buckled down. I got a job at the University Library, and I stayed out of trouble. I made a few friends here, and Tariq visited occasionally, but I kept a low profile...even as I saw signs of the supernatural all around me. For my father's sake, I made the choice not to get involved, even though he hunts with Jason and Nick. He wanted me to focus on my studies before I made any decisions. I understand and respect that.

I've noticed that the second-year students went off campus at all hours of the night to face these threats. There are all kinds of people here: werewolves, witches, vampires...all sorts of beings, and the humans who haven't been turned (as some can be born) or choose not to wield magic trains to be hunters.

I tried to ignore it, for my sake and my father's. I knew that after what he had gone through, it would be selfish and foolish of me to put myself in a similar situation. He hadn't been given a choice. I have one...but now, bodies were starting to pile up. Their hearts or throats had been torn out. People disappeared without a trace, as well. I followed every article I could because I felt drawn to the case. I'm not sure why.

My friends and I had gone out to the pub after classes let out to celebrate going to second year. This is when you decide what you wanted to major in, so to speak. I had no idea about this when I applied to study Mythology, but thanks to my family, I know what I want. I'm going to be a hunter. I want to protect people from the things they went through.

"Zain," Tariq hails me, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Do you know what you want to major in, yet?"

"I'm going to be a hunter," I tell him.

"Well, you've already got a head start!" Aiden shrugs. "I mean, your family survived the House of Ashes two years ago. That's impressive."

Aiden is a vampire and my roommate. Thanks to enchanted objects provided by the witches, vampires can walk in the daylight and enjoy human food. They still need blood sometimes, that's provided by willing donors. Vampires who refuse to live this way, and kill innocent people are considered rogues. They are hunted down. They have to be.

When we met, we talked about everything, and he assumes that the parasites in the temple are ancients, and they may have been dormant for centuries until the aliens landed. Under close supervision, CENTCOM was studying them, as the parasites are key to vampiric origins.

"Heh," I chuckled. "Before that, they were Marines, and my father was..."

"We get it," Kyle gently cuts it. "He didn't have a choice."

Kyle doesn't like her first name, and to this day, I don't know what it is. She's been able to wield magic at an early age, so unless she takes us by surprise, that will be her major. Granted, each class is still able to hunt down rogues, but choosing a major for it gives you specialized training and your position if you join an organization or hunt on your own.

Kyle risked expulsion when we first met two years ago. When I first arrived, and I was looking for directions, I ran into some xenophobic students. Considering my training with Jason and Nick, I knew I could handle them...if I'd gotten the chance. Kyle overheard them and she was pissed. I witnessed magic firsthand that day. We've been close ever since. Since Ravensbourne has a zero-tolerance policy for prejudice, she was put on probation...I think the dean was impressed that she knew how to hex people before her second year.

"Thanks, Kyle," I tell her with a smile.

"No problem," she replies, giving me one in return.

"So how much longer are the two of you going to play this little game?" Luke asks.

"What game?" Kyle and I ask in unison.

"Really?" Aiden smirks. "The late-night study sessions without us, going into the city together, that one time Zain met your family-"

"-That was coincidental," I broke in.

"We share a lot of the same classes," Kyle says next.

"Oh, come on," Tariq laughs. "It's too obvious!"

Luke is an interesting one...he's a werewolf from one of the oldest pure bloodlines of wolves, a select few Native American tribes. Unfortunately, they had to protect what was left of their bloodline, and the existence of werewolves wasn't tolerated back then, so they couldn't help their people as much as they wanted to. I've been fascinated by his ancestry. Contrary to the Hollywood myths about vampires and werewolves, he's also dating Aiden.

I've learned a lot about people, love, and sexuality in the past few years. I'm tolerant, and I embrace, support, and am close to many members of the LGBTQ+ community, but I never understood the struggles until my father had come out to me, and I paid closer attention to what he and Jason were going through. They both came from a world where they were made to feel wrong for loving each other...

"There's no game," I assure the group. "We're just..."

"...Seeing where things go," Kyle finished with a shy shrug.

"Well, good!" Aiden chuckles. "I mean, I just. You two are adorable!"

Kyle hides her face in her hands while Luke, Tariq, and Aiden tease her. She's right, we've gotten closer, especially in the past year. Her mother works for CENTCOM, as it turns out and she's worked with my father and uncles.

That's not why things have changed between us. That happened naturally. I'm drawn to her gentle nature. Unless her friends are being harassed or you provoke her, she typically stayed to herself. She's soft-spoken and intelligent...beautiful.

"Hey, Tariq," I begin, to give Kyle some relief, even as she scoots closer and I wrap an arm around her. "Have you heard back from Admissions yet?"

Tariq decided to apply after I told him the truth about what happened to my father. He stayed over for a few days, and it had been maybe a week since my father had been released from quarantine but Jason had to tie up some loose ends in America...so he wasn't home when my father had a nightmare.

Tariq and his mother helped us through it, and I couldn't lie to him after that. I know I can trust him. Once he found out, and I told him what Ravensbourne does, he wanted to join and fight. You can do that, and get an education at the same time.

"I have the envelope here," Tariq admits, pulling out the familiar cream-colored paper.

"Open it!" Luke insists enthusiastically. "Let's see what it says!"

Aiden, Kyle, and I lean in, too. I hope he got in. Tariq and I worked hard on my breaks. His grades are already great, but I wanted to give him the same advantage I had with having Marines for my uncles. We trained for hours until he was where I am now. He took his entrance exam and a physical test a week before he flew to visit me.

Tariq took a deep breath before he opens the envelope. He scans the words without giving anything away until he lets out a sigh.

"What is it?" I ask urgently.

"Did you get in?" Luke wonders.

"Do I need to visit the dean?" Kyle jokes.

"NO!" Aiden and I protest at the same time. She'll set his desk on fire or something.

"I got in," Tariq grins, flipping the letter around to show us.

"Hell yeah!" Luke crows. "Who did you get as your roommate?"

"....I haven't gotten there yet," Tariq mutters, reading on.

"Who did you get-"

Aiden was cut off by a familiar, grating voice.

"Oh, great, another charity case," Chase Frost announced his presence in a bored voice. "They're letting anyone in now..."

"That explains how you got here, aside from Daddy's pockets," Tariq shot back.

Son of a bitch. Chase is an asshole. He's not xenophobic, but he's a narcissistic jackass who thinks he's better than everyone else. I wasted no time kicking his ass in training. Ever since then, there's been this hostile, competitive energy between his friends and mine. I assumed that people outgrew this in grade school...Tariq clenched his jaw, and he got up to meet Chase.

"Cute," Chase snorts.

"Yeah, I thought so," Tariq shrugs earning a few giggles from the girls at a nearby table.

We didn't intervene. Tariq doesn't need us to, he's always been quick on the draw. Unless his friends showed up, we let Tariq handle this guy.

"Let me guess," Chase mused. "You're going to be a hunter? All brawn, no brain..."

"Come on now, Frost," Tariq quips. "You shouldn't be bitter because you don't have either one! You should be honored...you make snowflakes!"

Those same girls laughed openly now, and Chase flushed with embarrassment. Back home in Iraq, girls would flock to Tariq. He never showed any interest, but he never intentionally hurt anyone, either. I wondered if he would be interested in anyone here. Not that relationships define who you are as a person...I guess I'm just curious...

Chase specialized in water magic, which also translates to ice magic. Not all witches can hack it as a hunter, but I'm sure there are things that I'm not good at. When we had our attribute exams, something happened, and Chase's hailstorm turned into snowflakes.

It was all over campus, and we all heard how his father laid into him over the phone for failing to meet his standards. So what Tariq said was a low blow, but I had no sympathy for him. Being unhappy with your life doesn't give you the right to mistreat others.

"Do you know who the hell you're talking to?" Chase snarled.

"Elsa?" Tariq frowns. "I mean, I know you're a Disney character, but I figured you'd grow out of childish behavior!"

Our table erupts in quiet laughter. Chase sneers before stalking off. Tariq waits until Chase is gone before he joins us.

"He watches too many of those American shows," Tariq comments.

"He's a walking cliche," I agreed.

"Enough about him," Kyle shrugs. "Who do you have as your roommate, Tariq?"

"Luke," Tariq grins.

"Yes!" Luke crows. "We're all in the same building!"

"I think we should put in a request to switch," I announced. "That way, Luke and Aiden can share, and I won't risk walking in on you two again."

"I...am still...so sorry about that," Aiden winced.

"It's no big deal," I assure him. "It just makes sense at this point."

"Mr.Gordon is pretty cool, it shouldn't be an issue," Luke nods.

"That's something we can request tomorrow," Aiden decides. "You probably need to send for your things from Iraq, right?"

Tariq responds, but the alarm went off on my phone. My father and Jason were going to call soon.

"I'm gonna head back," I tell the group.

"Now?" Kyle frowns, checking her watch.

"I'm getting a call, and Jason and Baba are in the States," I explain.

"That's cool, tell them we said hey," Aiden smiles.

"Be careful," Luke warns me. "Whoever the killer is, it's a wolf, but no one has caught the scent."

"Yeah, I will," I assure everyone before leaving.

**************************************

Looking back now, I don't remember much about that night except that it was a full moon, and I had been halfway to my dorm when I had been attacked. Nick had been training me to fight, but I was no match for whatever this was. It was stronger than anyone I've sparred with.

I remember feeling like someone or something had been watching me all night, so I didn't drink much. Maybe it had been Chase? For someone who shows us disdain at every turn, I can't figure him out. I felt like I needed to stay sharp.

I couldn't shake the feeling...I remember the burning pain of sharp teeth gouging into my shoulder when I'd taken the shortcut into the alley-the guttural growls. Muscle and coarse fur...glowing eyes.

Luke had been right...holy shit. Werewolves. In London. The irony...Jason and I watched that movie once. I remember having that fleeting thought as I felt blood pour out of the bite. Then I thought about my family and Kyle. What would Nick or Jason have done-the wolf threw me down and I remember feeling its teeth tear my flesh as it did so. How the hell I hung on, I'm not sure...

Someone had leaped in front of me as I lay out in the alley. A woman...I saw her fight the wolf that bit me, and I passed out. When I'd come to, I must have been brought to her apartment. I didn't feel pain anymore...and my bite had disappeared. She must have found a clean shirt for me. Her scent-whoa that was weird-was all over it, and the apartment.

"You're awake," she sighs in relief. "Sometimes, people don't survive the bite...how are you feeling?"

"Uh..." I'm not sure how to respond. My senses were on high alert and it was a bit overwhelming.

"I didn't make it in time," she sighed as soon as I sat up. "I'm sorry. But now you've become a part of this."

"A part of what?" I asked.

"There's been a war between the wolves for the past few months," she explains. "We used to be at peace."

"What happened?" I asked her.

"There was to be a marriage to unite the packs," she explains. "They were mates...so things would have been resolved. No matter what happens, mates are meant to be honored. But someone killed them before the union could happen. Whoever it was...they covered their tracks. They used human methods to do it. No scent. So the two sides have been fighting ever since."

"...Where do you fit into all of this?" I ask her.

She considers me for a moment. I remember that her wolf is the color of caramel. I see it in her skin. The chocolate edges of her fur reflected in the shade of her hair that flowed down to her waist in thick waves. Her eyes are a piercing amber with flecks of yellow. I caught myself staring, and I looked away.

"You can trust me," I assure her. "I'm, uh, well I'm not an expert, but I know enough about wolves."

"Amara was my sister," she reveals, pain darkening her voice. "They were in love. I refuse to believe that his pack did this. Killing each other's mates...not only is it forbidden, but it takes a toll on you to break a bond like that. Whoever did this isn't in their right mind...but no one wants to hear me out. So I've been trying to solve this on my own."

"Maybe I can help," I find myself saying. "You've already said I've been brought into this, right?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Both sides have been trying to add to their numbers...I appreciate the offer, umm.."

"Zain," I introduced myself. "Zain Othman."

"Amaya Graves," she nods. "You're taking this well, by the way. It's odd. Refreshing...but odd."

"I study mythology at the university," I reveal. "I've noticed patterns of werewolf activities, but..."

"Which university?" she asked, her eyes flashing.

"Um, Ravensbourne University London," I tell her. "Why?"

"Be careful," Amaya warns me. "You can't trust everyone there."

I checked my watch. Shockingly, I haven't missed my call with my father.

"I understand," I tell her. "I need to go...and I'm going to speak to my father about this."

"I-wait, I'm sorry, what?" she stutters. "Why? That's dangerous. It's one thing to tell him that you've become one of us, but-"

"-He's stronger than you think," I gently cut in. "He survived the House of Ashes."

"...Really?" she gasped, her eyebrows rising. "No human ever has, and the rest of us stay clear of it. The Ancient One is the oldest of vampires."

"My father killed him," I reveal. "Along with other survivors."

"...Wow..." she murmured. "That's impressive...Are you sure you want to get him involved in this?"

"He's going to want to hunt down whoever bit me, regardless of what I say," I tell her. "If not him, then his boyfriend will...or my uncle."

I could almost hear him now...bold, angry, impulsive but protective. I remember the way my father had spoken of him before we met. Once Jason made up his mind, there was no turning back.

He also has an uncanny knack for knowing what you're thinking, even over the phone. I couldn't keep this from him, even if I wanted to. Nick's approach is more...ruthless. Unforgiving. I'd have to make sure he has all the facts first. But I know he'd be willing to help.

"Fair enough," Amaya nods. "I'm going to escort you back. You're a new wolf, and it will take time for you to adjust."

************************

I can hear, smell, and damn near taste everything. Amaya was right. It felt like sensory overload, but she taught me to breathe and remain calm. Colors are sharper. Richer. I'll focus on that later. Right on time, my laptop chimed, and I pulled up the video call with my father and Jason.

"Somethin' is different," Jason observes as soon as I log on.

How the hell does he do that? I hadn't even spoken yet.

"What's goin' on?" Jason asks.

"I-how do you do that?" I demand, momentarily thrown off. "And I thought baba was hard to fool..."

"I have to get very creative," my father admits. "But he's right...what's going on with you?"

"Uhh, so don't freak out..." I began.

[alec-1016]

hey i watched and finished 911 lone star this week, so imma bring uo something that is very old(s1 or 2) but that impacted me A LOT

And that is the first(second? one of the first) tarlos fight, about Carlos telling his parents TK was his friend. I understand and feel for TK, especially after being fresh from a traumatic break up from a relationship in which he was clearly more invested than his partner(fuck u alex).

But I feel so much for Carlos. I am brazilian, like Rafael, and I feel like i live in the Reyes household, when Carlos was young. I am Carlos at 17, coming out, being hugged, being loved, and then having that part of himself be pushed under the rug. I will never come out to my extended family. I may take a while to transition medically, or never transition, not because I live with especially close-minded people, but because I live with humans that are sometimes afraid of what they don't know.

When Carlos said "I don't wanna rub their noses in it" I felt that, because I can't even talk to my mom about Lone Star without telling her that what drew me to it was the queer rep, esp the trans rep. Lat time I talked to my mom about a show like this, it was Star Trek Discovery, and she said "Wow, are there only gay people in these things you watch?". Needless to say, I tend to refrain from mentioning characters that arent cishet now.

I will have to cut contact with most of my family when I come out, if I wanna get married, get my name changed, etc.

When TK said "I thought they were nice people" and Carlos said "They ARE nice people. But they are not perfect" I felt that because I love my mom. She supported me though all of my crazy dreams, and my depressive episodes, my autism diagnosis. But she doesn't see her son when she looks at me, and she can't say my name. I have complicated feelings about my father, because he is a cheater w anger issues, but he calls me his son. He sends me articles on trans rights here in my town. He wants to see me become whatever I want. But he also left.

What I wanna say is, I never realized I needed latino rep in my media until I got it, especially queer latino rep. I am white passing, though both my grandmothers are/were black, so I always thought I was ok with seeing characters that were brunettes, like Hermione, or Belle. But seeing Encanto, and now Lone Star I actually saw my family there, with the mess and the thousands of tios and tias and primos, and the catholic guilt and the good food.

What I'm saying is Rafa said "The fact that we [Ronen and Rafa/ TK and Carlos] can just walk into your living room without your asking? Yeah, that brings me joy" bc ls is not a queer show.It's a show about first responders, and some of them happen to be queer. It's not next to RuPaul's drag race on the straming catalogue, but next to action shows. And it reminds me that people think that is "shoving it in theur faces". Because they feel queer rep, and queer PEOPLE should come with a warning, because they ferl they have the right to simply ignore out existence. Sometimes ut feels like simply existing is "shoving it in their faces" and I'm tired.

I am very privileged in my country, being the child of university professors, even though both of them grew up very poor. I am middle class, with fairly open parents and a queer sister, and for that I am grateful, and I realize that my situation is better than a lot of people's. I am not denying that. But it feels nice to see a story that looks like mine, not just a face. A story in US media, that I grew up watching and worshipping, far more than the relatively conservative media from Brazil(especially the novelas, jesus christ, someone save us from globo, recodrd and band and sbt), with a boy that reminds me so much of myself. With a trans male character for fuck's sake, that has to deal with the mess of dating as a trans person, of navigating your family and your transition. These people showed me that I am not alone.

Also Rafael is from my town and ever since I foumd that out I have been giggling internally, you guys have no clue 😅😅

Oh well, another rant no one asked for but I delivered anyways. I am very depressed, very disphoric and very hyperfixated on 911 ls, so...sorry, not sorry?

[thiswasinevitableid]

Secret Santa (Vincent/Apollo)

An early christmas present to @bellafarallones2, set after the events of The Thrilling Adventures of the Green Knight

���We’re so glad you’ll be with us again!” Mrs. Williams tucks Vincent’s volunteer contract away in her desk, “you’re always very popular with the kids.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” His watch chimes 8:00 am, “I have to go to work. I’ll keep an eye out for your email come October?”

“Exactly.” She walks him to the office door with a wink “and as always, your secret is safe with us.”

The Tilden Shopping center is on the other side of town from The Bureau of Hero Oversight, and as he feared the late summer heat means some of the local villains are even more irritable. That means a traffic jam just on the edge of downtown as several members of the Pine Guard zoom past in pursuit of Baron Thorne. Vincent hopes for the villain’s sake that Indrid isn’t among them; even since he dropped a building on Duck, The Moth considers Baron Thorne his sworn enemy. 

He’s just glad that Indrid’s self-appointed sworn enemy isn’t getting out any time soon. 

 “I’m surprised you want me for this.” Vincent stares at the security screens and the one way glass that has him looking down on the cell of Apollo Cold, AKA The Flame. 

“We’re learning the hard way that we need an agent with the right temperament to deal with him. And it has to be one, so he can’t play us off each other.” Director Stern sighs, running a hand over his hair. Vincent swears that grey in it only appeared after he was promoted, which happens to be the same time Apollo was brought in. 

“Can I ask what you mean by that?”

“Even-tempered. Hard to rattle. Used to dealing with obnoxious men who think they know everything. All things that training-in starter agents prepared you for. After all, you dealt with my know-it-all self just fine.” Director Stern rests a hand on Vincent’s shoulder, “more than that, call it…call it a hunch. We’ve worked together all these, and I know the kind of man you are, Agent Capra. That’s why I trust you with this.”

“That means a lot.” Vincent smiles at him, “anything else I should know?”

“He’s got half the staff convinced he’s psychic.”

“How?” Vincent manages to not sound too alarmed

“My suspicion is a combination of prior research, cold reading, educated guesses, and luck. Indrid confirmed he’s lying, though of course he insists he developed powers after Indrid ‘deserted’ them.”  Joseph’s phone buzzes and he sighs as he takes it out, “treat him like a T.V psychic and you should be safe.”

“Understood.” 

Vincent spends an hour reading over all the information Stern left him, then decides it’s time to introduce himself. 

It’s a short staircase down, then a reinforced door–the only way in or out–to an empty, well lit room. Apollo’s cell is made of the kind of glass they use to keep tigers from eating toddlers at zoos, with no privacy save for a small bathroom, and furnished with a bed, a tablet with limited permissions, and nothing else. It’s grim, but from the notes it’s also the last resort since Apollo kept turning anything else they gave him into a weapon. 

Currently, the villain is sitting on the bed, watching Vincent approach with malevolent disinterest. 

He stands calmly in front of the cell, “Hello, Apollo. I’m Agent Vincent Capra. Director Stern has assigned me to be the agent in charge of your care.”

“And why should I care about that?”

He shrugs, “You don’t have to care. It just felt polite to introduce myself face to face.”

“That makes you braver than the rest; they all hide up in their little cave” He tilts his head towards the control room, “Not that it will help them. They’re dead men regardless of whether I know their faces.”

Two months of being imprisoned hasn’t made him any less dramatic it seems.

“Tell me” Apollo studies his nails, “does it bother you? That a ‘know-it-all’ former pupil has surpassed you?”

The usage of the exact wording unnerves him, but all he says is, “Not at all. Director Stern was a co-agent for years and we know each other well. I’m very glad for his promotion.”

“I suppose you all feel it’s better him than you, as his death for his role in this will be far worse than if he were some disposable agent.” A smile, “I’m going to turn his boyfriend into a rug while they are both still alive.”

Vincent waits for him to finish. 

A frown, “Nothing? Usually that at least earns me a wince. Maybe the old goat has something metal under all that fat after all.”

“You’re not my first villain, Apollo.” 

The younger man rises, walks to the glass as he says, “You know, you remind me of my father.”

“You killed your father.” Vincent replies calmly.

Petulance breaks the surface of Apollo’s features, “I was going to say that.”

“I’m sorry to have stepped on your toes.” Vincent turns, “if you need anything, you where I’ll be.”

Apollo certainly did, and proceeded to hurl all manner of insults at him without warning, when he wasn’t busy detailing exactly how he’d murder Vincent and everyone he loved. 

It’s been like that for a month and a half now, and they’re still no closer to working out how Apollo knows certain things. Indrid, in spite of tearing the control room apart, could not find a device or any other proof that his twin had managed to install some means of spying on them. 

But his errand this morning gave Vincent an idea. 

As he trades off with the night shift, he casually stands near a certain vent in the control room, that he was picking out a certain necklace for his niece’s birthday at a store that closed before he got off work, so he had to go ahead of time. 

Then he reads over the notes from the night (“Cold sat on bed with back to camera for two solid hours, talking to himself”), covers up the vent, and then goes down to say good morning. 

Apollo is laying on the bed, eyes closed, and Vincent is nearly turned around to let him sleep when a cool, self-satisfied voice says, “A necklace? How dull.”

“A funny thing about the necklace, Apollo” he leans closer to the glass, voice quieter, “I never bought it. I wasn’t anywhere near that store this morning.”

The villain’s eyes snap open and he turns his head toward him, “Liar.”

“Not at all. I was doing something much more secret than that. Something no one at the agency knows about”

“What kind of secrets could a ridiculous old goat like you have?” Curiosity lurks beneath dismissiveness. 

“Surely you can tell me, since you claim you can know anything about us you choose.”

A pause, then, “You were paying off a parking ticket.”

“No.”

“Seeing a mistress.”

“Not even close.”

“You’re a hitman?”

“Goodness, no.” He doesn’t hide the laugh in time. 

“Do not mock me!” Apollo is off the bed and snarling in his face in an instant, “I demand you tell me, this instant.”

“I don’t think I will. A man has to have his harmless little secrets.”

He returns to the booth, Apollo yelling curses after him. Then he clicks on the intercom and says, “I’m going to say it aloud in a moment. Then I’ll give you a last guess.”

Once he’s certain the mic is off, he stands by the vent and says, “I play Santa Clause at a mall.”

When he hits the intercom back on, Apollo pipes up, “You were shoplifting. I knew it all along.”

He shakes his head, pleased to have solved the mystery, “Not quite. But a good guess all the same.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apollo can suffer the indignity of imprisonment. 

He can deal with the sinking feeling that his brother has, in fact, beaten him.

He can tolerate the endless sameness of his days, even laugh to himself and how pathetic that the agency thinks of this as a punishment. 

But he will not tolerate Vincent Capra keeping a secret from him. 

He’s been trying since last week to work it out, even went so far as to search “what do ordinary men keep secrets about” on his tablet, yet he’s no closer to an answer.

This morning he’s waiting, wrists cuffed through the electrified, hand-sized openings in his cell while some sniveling orderly speedily checks through his room for contraband. Vincent comes in just as the man finishes, wishing him a good morning before turning his attention on Apollo. 

He must have been running late today; he still has a travel mug of coffee in hand. 

“Gambling.”

A slight laugh, “Good morning to you too, Apollo. And no.” The cuffs buzz open and the holes in the cell close the instant he pulls his hands away, “I’ll be working on some reports today, but yell if you need me. Not that you have any trouble with doing that.”

He’s already turning towards the control room. Apollo does not want to lose his attention so soon; not because he cares about him–quite the contrary–but he’s not ready to go back to having his conversation options be someone who isn’t really there. 

“Bird watching?”

Vincent pauses, “No, not that either. Though I suppose it’s one of your more reasonable guesses; birders usually go places early. Though I’m not sure if there are many exciting ones in the city.”

“You could go to the waterfront. It is on a flyway.”

He should really just cut out his tongue at this point. 

“I didn’t take you for an amateur ornithologist.”

“I am not.”

Vincent sips his coffee, “What kind of bird would you be?”

“Eagle owl.” Forget his previous thought; ripping his tongue out would be more fitting. Right after he slices Vincent’s vocal cords one by one to stop him asking questions in that way that makes it so easy to answer honestly. 

“That seems fitting. I’m not sure what I might be.”

Apollo studies him, then smirks, “A grouse. Plump and grey.”

The older man touches his hair, “I’m not all grey yet. And I think I wear it well.”

“The same cannot be said for your physique. Did you just stop trying once you were surrounded by heroes and saw how pathetic you looked?”

A sigh; not upset, just disappointed, “Some day, Apollo, I hope you can find joy  in things other than insulting everyone you meet.”

He snorts, “Joy? Joy comes with triumph, with victory, with making your enemies crawl on bloodied palms for mercy you do not intend to grant. All things that are outside my reach. For now.”

“Was there really nothing else in your life that made you happy?” Confusingly, Vincent has stepped closer to the glass. 

“No. Unlike my brother, I did not need pointless amusements or people. The work was enough.”

Silence, then Vincent’s brown eyes look at him with unnerving clarity, “Apollo, have you considered that you’re so desperate to know my secret because you’re bored and unhappy without the life you had?”

His traitor of a tongue says, quietly, “I would rather rip my own fingernails out than go another day without a goal.”

In another life, such a statement would have been met with someone handing him pliers and telling him to get to it. Instead, Vincent says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------

The Christmas trees are already encroaching on Halloween decorations as Vincent makes his way through the store. It feels a little odd to be using the company credit card to buy toys, but Stern agreed that anything that kept Apollo occupied and calm was worth spending Bureau money on. Apparently he’d been refusing books on principle–what principle, Vincent cannot say–but Vincent downloaded some onto the tablet just to tide him over. When he left last night, Apollo was wholly engrossed in Guns, Germs, and Steel.

He’d kept interrupting Vincent’s work that day, which was not unusual. But this time, it was to read him passages, rather than insult him. 

When he returns to work the next morning, Apollo moves toward him excitedly before catching himself and returning to his usual disdainful expression. 

“What is in that package? Is it mine?”

“Ho, ho, ho” Vincent smiles as he slides the box into the cell. 

Apollo blinks at him. 

“Do…did you never learn about Santa Claus?” That would explain how he still hasn’t guessed Vincent’s secret.

“I know what he is. I simply do not understand why you are referencing him in September.” Apollo opens the box, removing the Gearball Brainteaser, “or why you have given me a toy.”

“It’s apparently difficult to solve.”

Apollo gives him a dismissive wave, as if shooing him away, “Child's play.”

With that, he sits on the floor and does not look up from the puzzle for several hours. When he does, it's with a triumphant smile as he shows the solved sphere to the camera.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apollo is not surprised he’s dreaming of being a bird; he fell asleep after watching the live feed from the aquarium’s aviary. It is easier to let himself watch it, knowing Vincent will not mock or punish him for it. 

The last time he dreamed of being a bird, he was ripping viscera from the belly of what was either his father or brother; the face was too destroyed to say. 

This time, he is something small, a sparrow or warbler, huddling in tall grass. Without seeing it, he knows there's something hunting him. And rain is battering his feathers, he’s so cold and afraid and surely a flock is near, but if he calls for them, whatever is stalking him will pounce. 

Warm hands scoop him up, tucking him into a breast pocket of a grey coat. He knows, in that way of knowing things in dreams, that it’s Vincent who has given him this soft, safe place to nest. 

He wakes up nauseous, surely from the saccharine nature of the dream, rolls over in his blankets, and tries to pretend he’s still nestled in a pocket. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

It turns out the nausea was not from the dream. It was from food poisoning 

Someone at the bureau had been putting expired or otherwise tainted food into his meals. According to Vincent, they were summarily fired when Stern found out. 

It was a rather devious way of harming him, and he intends to congratulate whoever came up with it right before he boils them alive. 

He’s laying on the cold floor for relief from the fever, blanket in reach for when he gets chills, when Vincent appears at the glass. 

“Do you need more water?”

“No. I am fine. This is barely discomfort.” He closes his eyes, “I am not some, some weakling who needs soup or medicine or whatever it is people with no tolerance for suffering and frail bodies require when ill.”

“My mother always insisted on ginger ale. I still crave it when I get sick” Vincent sits down in the chair he’s taken to keeping next to the cell, then chuckles, “my fathers mother was a firm believer in putting whiskey in tea for the ill, even for children.”

“That seems like a good way to murder a child accidentally.” Apollo forces himself to roll on his side so he can see him.

“I’m the baby of the family, so by the time I came along she knew not to do it to me. My eldest sister does recall being given a hot toddy at age five that put her to sleep for most of the day.” He rests his head back against the wall. He’s wearing a white and lavender tie today, and Apollo wants to rest his own head just below the knot of it. 

He must be more delirious than he thought. 

“My father would always read to us when we got sick. The Hobbit was a favorite of mine.”

“I have read that one” Apollo sits up, “my favorite part was when the dragon pours molten gold onto the dwarves who dared enter his lair.”

Vincent looks at him with surprise, “I think we read very different books.”

“Nono, I distinctly remember the cover and the title.”

“Was that a book that was read to you, by chance?”

“By father, when we were small. It is now occurring to me that he may have made the story different to impart the correct lesson. No one puts beheadings in books for children.”

“No, there are a few in there. But I think the ending is much happier than you’ve been lead to believe.” Vincent looks down at him, “would you like me to read it to you?”

“I am not a child!”

“And that’s not an answer.”

“Yes” he grumbles, “after all, you are functionally a servant. You should wait on me when I am ill.”

Vincent indicates the tablet, and Apollo grits his teeth to keep from throwing up as he stands and passes the device through. After a few taps, Vincent pulls reading glasses from his breast pocket, and begins.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why are you humming that?” Apollo looks up from his book at Vincent. He hadn’t even realized he was humming “Silver Bells” as he filled in his paperwork. 

“I suppose I’m already in a festive mood. I know it’s barely November but I can’t help it; I love Christmas. Picking out presents, spending time with family, all the lights. Cheesy, I know.”

“Exceedingly.” Apollo says, lacking his usual venom.

“I imagine it wasn’t celebrated in Abbadon.”

“Of course not. No doubt my brother has taken up the practice all the same.”

It’s a harmless truth, so he says, “I did see that he’d already put up a tree.”

“To please his brick of a hero, one assumes.”

“He may just like it” Vincent chides gently, “you aren’t carbon copies of one another.”

“Do not be ridiculous. That muscle without a brain is the reason he’s no longer even a passable shadow of his former self. But I suppose he is clever all the same; he found a loyal, durable shield to protect him while he flits about.”

Vincent takes a deep breath before replying, “Maybe he’s just found a partner he trusts.”

“He had one.” Apollo snarls. 

“I’m not certain he’d call what you two had as trust.”

The villain scoffs, then softens, “I suppose not.” He gets up from the soft chair they’ve allowed him, padding over to Vincent, “I do envy him for what he has now.”

“That’s a hard thing to admit, isn’t it” Vincent sets his work aside to stand and face him, “I’m proud of you for being able to.”

A finger traces on the glass, “We could have such an arrangement. If you freed me.”

“Apollo, you know I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?” The younger man raises his voice, “you like me, I can tell.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you loose to hurt god knows how many people.” 

“What do you care? You would be safe! You would be helping me and I, I would offer you protection. And glory.”

“Does that strike you as something I want?” 

Apollo pauses, clearly considering the question. Amber eyes flame, and Vincent knows he’s worked out the right answer and doesn’t like it. 

“Fine” He hisses, slamming a fist into the glass, “I was lying anyway, a dull old goat like you is of no use to me.”

“I’m going for the day, Apollo.” It’s a fight not to yell back, to not be upset as he wonders if any of the progress he thought he was making in connecting with the villain was all an illusion.

“Go on then! Leave! I do not care! And when I finally free myself, I won’t even bother killing you personally! You can die here with the rest of these rats like you deserve.”

With that, he stalks away, leaving Vincent to retreat to the control room.

—-------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean not here?” Apollo glares at one of the cameras feeding to the control room. 

“I mean he’s on another mission right now.” Stern says through the microphone, “and I’m not at liberty to say when he’ll return.”

“How can you send him on another mission? You know very well I am the greatest threat to the country, let alone the city.”

“Be that as it may, you’re also not the only threat here. Vincent was the right man for the assignment. There will be other agents assigned to your care in the meantime.”

“Bring Vincent back or I will-”

“Slice my face off while my family watches, yes, you’ve said as much.” The mic goes dead, and no one responds no matter how much Apollo curses at them. 

Eventually he tires of that tactic and goes to sit on the bed, back to the camera. 

“Another villain” he mutters, “if I had been an even more powerful threat, they would never send Vincent after anyone else. I would have him all to myself.”

The twin in his head replies, “And if you had never been a villain at all, you would have had the same.”

He tucks his legs to his chest. He’s not upset, he’s not, he is simply frustrated that the version of Indrid in his mind has been less cooperative of late. 

And he is not at all pleased when the real version appears the next day for his monthly visit. Still, Indrid has information and he needs it, so he steps to the glass.

“Is Vincent dead?”

“No.” Indrid replies suspiciously quickly.

“Did they have you kill him?”

“No” His twin crosses his arms, “he’s on another mission. Assuming all goes well, you will see him again.”

“Liar.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “Apollo, we are not at Abbadon anymore. That kind of thing does not happen here.”

“Of course you think that, you are a coward and a traitor and one day you will remember what you were made for and I will laugh to learn you dismembered that hero of yours while he was still alive. And you will be all to blame for it, like old times.”

Indrid returns his snarl, the tell that the barb has lodged under his skin, “This! This is why they sent Vincent away!”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“Oh, really?” They’re toe to toe now, both acting as if the glass is not there, “you knew that your last conversation with him upset him, and that they decided it was wise to give him a break from you because no one deserves to be subjected to your company for as long as he has? And yet you think you value him enough for someone to see him as a prize to take away from you?”

“I do! He is, he is better than anyone else here! When he is nearby I do not-” He stops himself before he says something he regrets. 

Indrid leans back from the glass, “You do not feel like you are trapped.”

“Damn you and your powers to whatever pit of hell is coldest.” He looks away, “once I am free, I will give him one more chance.”

His brother removes his glasses, tiredly rubbing his eyes, “You truly think that is the part of you he likes?”

The “yes” fails to form on his tongue. He knows it is a lie. Indrid knows it too. And so there is no point to it.

“You are not the Flame anymore. That persona, that life, is behind you and it is going to stay there. Every hero and half the villains in this city will fight to keep you from it. I will die before I let you take up that mantle again.” He slots his glasses back on his face, “eventually, you are going to have to decide who you are without it.”

With that, he leaves, tossing his usual goodbye over his shoulder. 

“Indrid?”

His brother stops, but doesn’t turn to look his way.

“Do you promise he is still alive?”

“On whatever honor either of us still has, I promise he is.”

Apollo rests his forehead against the glass, relieved, “Thank you.”

Indrid turns, surprised, but says “you are welcome” all the same.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Technically, Vincent’s mission ended a week ago, but Stern insisted he take a week of vacation before returning to work. Which is why he’s reading up on Apollo’s doings at eleven at night on Christmas Eve. 

Cold spoke to Director Stern about possible community service. 

Well that’s certainly unexpected.

Cold has begun doing remote service identifying labels for screen readers and entering data from trail cameras for public lands. 

Vincent flips forward; Apollo kept that up even after being told that they really didn’t know when Vincent would be returning to his post here. 

Cold continues engaging with staff less than previously. Interactions are neutral rather than hostile 70% of the time.

He checks the monitor, having told the agent on the night shift that she should get some dinner and he could watch Apollo for a while. The villain is on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

When Vincent steps from the control room door, bag in hand, Apollo is to the glass with impressive speed. 

“Vincent!” He reins in his excitement, “I see you have returned.”

“I sense I was missed.”

“I…yes. It turns out your company is superior to anyone else they assigned to me.” He looks at Vincent’s face, notices the bruise under his eye, and Vincent wonders if he’ll mock him for getting it or threaten the person who did it first.

“What happened?” His hand touches the glass, as if trying to examine Vincent’s injury.

“I was undercover as a butler for a young man who was trying to fashion himself into a villain. Deeply uncreative and not nearly as formidable as some people I could mention. Still, he wasn’t thrilled when he found out who I really was and there was a scuffle. I won.”

“I am glad. And I wanted to say that I am…I am” he closes his eyes and spits out, “sorry. For what I said the last time we spoke. I will do my best not to do it again.”

“Thank you for apologizing.”

Blonde hair falls into Apollo’s face as he cocks his head, “Why are you here so late?”

“Your Christmas present.” Vincent smiles, “would you like to know my secret.”

“Yes” Apollo’s eyes widen excitedly.

Vincent opens the bag, tipping it to show the red suit inside, “I’m a mall Santa for much of December. My father did it when I was growing up and I kept up the tradition.”

Apollo snickers, “You are full of surprises. Confusing, mundane surprises.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Vincent asks teasingly, “after all, it was your gift, not anyone else’s.”

The villain meets his eyes, expression softer than fresh snow and, for the first time Vincent can remember, free of machination. 

“You have my word.” He slips his hand through the gap. Vincent doesn’t bother engaging the cuffs before taking it, intending to shake it. But clever fingers curl too closely, too awkwardly for a shake, as if Apollo is afraid he might slip away. 

Vincent cups the hand between both his own, rubs a thumb along it gently as he murmurs, “Merry Christmas, Apollo.”

The villain smiles at him, warm and small, “Merry Christmas, Vincent.”

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

4th February >> Mass Readings (USA)

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B 

(Liturgical Colour: Green: B (2))

First Reading Job 7:1–4, 6–7 I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.

Job spoke, saying:

Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery? Are not his days those of hirelings? He is a slave who longs for the shade, a hireling who waits for his wages. So I have been assigned months of misery, and troubled nights have been allotted to me. If in bed I say, “When shall I arise?” then the night drags on; I am filled with restlessness until the dawn. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope. Remember that my life is like the wind; I shall not see happiness again.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 147:1–2, 3–4, 5–6

R/ Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted. or R/ Alleluia.

Praise the LORD, for he is good; sing praise to our God, for he is gracious; it is fitting to praise him. The LORD rebuilds Jerusalem; the dispersed of Israel he gathers.

R/ Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted. or R/ Alleluia.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He tells the number of the stars; he calls each by name.

R/ Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted. or R/ Alleluia.

Great is our Lord and mighty in power; to his wisdom there is no limit. The LORD sustains the lowly; the wicked he casts to the ground.

R/ Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted. or R/ Alleluia.

Second Reading 1 Corinthians 9:16–19, 22–23 Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel.

Brothers and sisters: If I preach the gospel, this is no reason for me to boast, for an obligation has been imposed on me, and woe to me if I do not preach it! If I do so willingly, I have a recompense, but if unwillingly, then I have been entrusted with a stewardship. What then is my recompense? That, when I preach, I offer the gospel free of charge so as not to make full use of my right in the gospel.

Although I am free in regard to all, I have made myself a slave to all so as to win over as many as possible. To the weak I became weak, to win over the weak. I have become all things to all, to save at least some. All this I do for the sake of the gospel, so that I too may have a share in it.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 8:17

Alleluia, alleluia. Christ took away our infirmities and bore our diseases. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Mark 1:29–39 Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases.

On leaving the synagogue Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John. Simon’s mother-in-law lay sick with a fever. They immediately told him about her. He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up. Then the fever left her and she waited on them.

When it was evening, after sunset, they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons. The whole town was gathered at the door. He cured many who were sick with various diseases, and he drove out many demons, not permitting them to speak because they knew him.

Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed. Simon and those who were with him pursued him and on finding him said, “Everyone is looking for you.” He told them, “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.” So he went into their synagogues, preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.