#good golly. it's been a while huh!

[balladetto]

hh...hii.

[bropunzeling]

i wish you would write a fic about girl!trevor in the girl!leon universe :)

oh gosh oh golly. the thing is if you'd asked about this a year ago it would be girl!trevor and jamie fumbling towards love where trevor figures out she has feelings because someone else hits on jamie and she is soooooo upsetti spaghetti about it which is stupid, obviously jamie can hook up with whOEVER, but this girl seems shallow and like she would just want jamie for SEX and POST ABOUT HIM ON TWITTER, and okay the next girl seems cool and outdoorsy but like is that the kind of girl jamie wants? does he want to hook up with someone who goes hIKING? and so on and so forth until someone (jack? jonesy? sonny?) is like huh seems like the only person good enough for jamie is you and trevor is like yeah!!! wait,,,

but NOW given the TRADE of it all my thoughts are: summer romance babyyyyyy. trevor brute forcing a summer hang out and getting so invested in having a good time (while refusing to examine why, exactly, she is so very invested in them having a good time, exactly how they used to in anaheim). however. there is so much tension. swimming and hanging out on a boat becomes a new game of "how long is too long to look at someone's abs". perhaps trevor refuses to layer up and has to borrow jamie's flyers branded hoodie and has weird mixed feelings about it. jamie keeps talking about philly and trevor gets horribly jealous about him making all these new friends and going to mexico without her. trevor letting slip how much the trade rumors about HER are fucking her up. jamie being super conscientious, the way he always has been around trevor, only now trevor is wondering what would happen if his hand touched lower on her back, or higher on her thigh. she thinks she might be into it. she kind of wants to throw up about it. she kind of wants to throw up about how nothing is the way it used to be but also she might want it to be different than it used to be. they get caught in a summer rainstorm and jamie's shirt is plastered to his chest and there's rain clinging to his eyelashes and the urge to kiss him hits trevor like a freight train. maybe she will

idk i just want.... longing but also navigating being a loud obnoxious woman whose team has actively given up on her yk?????? but also her suddenly wanting to kiss jamie so bad it makes her look stupid

[cartoon0bssesedb1tch]

My angel ♡︎

Lucifer x fem! Fallen angel! reader

Summery: Lucifer and reader have been friends since Lucifer was still in heaven but sadly separated when he fell. What happened when the two are reunited but reader has experienced something that concerns Lucifer.

!Warnings!: sexual assault , bullying, abuse, violence . Also Adam’s a dick. (If you like him I’m sorry it just felt right to the story)

A/n: hii! So this the first time I’m writing something here in a while so I hope you enjoy this! XDDD

𖦹

Freedom.

That’s what she felt when she fell.

She felt free to speak her mind and not be judged, she felt free to agree with him…Lucifer.

Although, the two shared the same dream, (y/n) decided to stay quiet since she was scared of the seraphims and was scared to also be like him, fallen.

But it changed when Lucifer’s daughter came for a meeting in heaven.

*𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌*

“Oh my goodness! It’s you!”

Charlie heard behind her right before she entered the room for the meeting in heaven. She saw an angel, who looked oddly familiar to her.

“Wait? You know me?” She asked. “Well, of course, being the daughter of the king of hell gives you quite the impression up here” the angel said while smiling but stopped when she saw the worried look on Charlie’s face.

“Oh no! Not in a bad way! Well, at least not for me, I always knew that Lucifer’s daughter will more like him.”

The younger demon sighed in relief “ oh that’s good- wait you know my dad? Like personally?” She asked.

“Oh I’m so sorry! Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself, my name is (y/n).”

‘(Y/n)… that’s right! That was dad’s best friend when he was in heaven!’ Charlie thought. “Wait- so you don’t hate him?”

Hate him? She could never hate him.

“Heavens no! He was my best friend, my only friend actually…” (y/n) said. “How is he? I heard about the divorce, it must tough for him…”

“He’s fine? I honestly don’t know… when he’s around he seems all cheery but I notice that it’s not really… sincere, you know? As if he’s trying to mask his feelings just to make others feel better.” Charlie said sadly.

(Y/n) sighed “I wish I was there to help him…”. The two stood in comfortable silence as if a mother and a daughter would. “Oh golly! Look at the time! You don’t wanna be late for the meeting, now do you?” She said while slightly pushing Charlie to the doors of the room. “I hope the meeting goes well, Charlie. I’ll see you inside” (y/n) said right before Charlie goes in.

She stood there in silence, and disappointment not at Lucifer or Charlie.

But herself that she couldn’t even be by his side at his lowest.

He still is her best friend…

… And first love…

Almost tearing up she stood in front of the door to the meeting room until…

“Heya babe, whatchu doing here?!”

Adam.

The one person she despises most.

“Are you fucking crying?! That’s hilarious! Well what are crying about hmm?” He asked with fake sympathy in his voice.

“It’s non of your business” she said.

“Yeah probably about that guy that literally fallen from heaven just to not to see your face” he said

Although she never took his words seriously, this one really hurt.

“Well you know I can satisfy you in ways that guy wouldn’t even think of” he said while putting his hand on her waist.

It got lower and lower…

“Please stop-“

“Adam” the voice of Sera the head seraphim was heard. And immediately his hand left her body. “The meeting is starting”

“Yeah right we were just going in” he said. He waited for the seraphim to go inside. When she did he didn’t hesitate but throw a punch right in the angel’s face.

“You fucking bitch! You really want sera to fucking think of me as the bad guy huh?! Well, next time it won’t be just your face you’ll have to cover” he said while going inside the room.

She sat there yet again in silence. She took out a pocket mirror that she had and some foundation.

Because it was not the first time …

* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *

When she fell felt even happy to out of there.

Until she hit the ground breaking her wings and most of the bones in her body.

She saw shades of red in the sky and was the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious

Lucifer’s pov:

I was in my office sorting some paperwork I don’t even know what it was, until I heard something crash.

Or rather someone…

I rushed outside since I can’t just leave the person alone to suffer.

The first I saw was wings. White, beautiful wings, although cover in blood since they were injured. The blood was gold that meant one thing.

It was an angel. A fallen angel.

I quickly went to check the angel’s other injuries so I turned them around only to find out…

It was (y/n)… my best friend from the beginning of time. My (y/n)… wait what was I thinking she probably met some tall hunk while I was out of heaven.

I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on helping (y/n). I took her to my room and carefully laid her on my bed.

Thankfully she was breathing and was starting to heal since angels can heal faster. (a/n: idk if it’s actually real but for the sake of the plot k go with it )

What did she do to fall? She was always so kind to everyone and was cautious not to talk too loudly about things that were forbidden by the seraphims.

What happened?

No one’s pov:

The first thing she felt when waking up was pain in her back specifically her wings.

When she opened her eyes she was confused and also scared because she didn’t recognize the room she was in. She groaned in pain while trying to get up.

“Oh no no no don’t do that, they’re still healing, you should rest” that voice.

The voice she loves oh so much. It was him.

“Lucifer?” She asked while her eyes are filling up with tears. Even though it hurt and she really shouldn’t do that, she didn’t care. She got up as fast as she could and wrapped her arms around him, crying in his chest.

Those were tears of happiness and relief that she finally got to see him again.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m here shh don’t cry” he told her in the softest tone ever as if she would break if he had spoken any louder.

“Im just- I’m so happy to see you” she said while looking up at him smiling through her tears.

“I’m really happy to see you too, sweetheart, but seriously you should rest. You still aren’t fully healed .” He said while picking her up and gently laying her down on the bed. “You know, I was really worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

“What? How long was I asleep?” She asked genuinely confused.

“It was only a couple of days, don’t worry. But my back did start to hurt because I was sleeping on the couch” wait what.

Then she realized, it was his room. And that was the way he saw her for the first time in eons, she probably looked terrible. That brought tears to her eyes yet again.

“I am so sorry, lucifer. I-I didn’t mean-“ she was cut of by her own sob while Lucifer quickly went to comfort her.

“Hey shh it’s okay. Really, I don’t care if i break my back, I just want you to feel better.” He said while holding her close to him.

Boy he really did miss this.

Eventually (y/n) calmed down and said “well I’m glad that you’re the one that found me and not some random weirdo on the street”

He laughed softly. “Yeah well I’m glad as well. Speaking of finding you, why exactly are you here?”

* 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 *

“Are you fucking kidding me?” (Y/n)’s voice was heard in the meeting room.

“(Y/n) use proper language-“ the head seraphim was cut off the angel’s enraged voice.

“I don’t give a flying FUCK about the language. But extermination of human souls just like us. What is wrong with you?!” She exclaimed.

“Ooh the nice little girl is getting feisty ” Adam said sarcastically.

“And YOU! You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. If i were to decide, you would be in hell in no time” she said to him.

“Careful or else-“

“Or else what? You will throw me to hell? To me it seems much more nicer than here. If you gonna do it, knock yourself out. Go fuck yourselves, all of you.”

* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *

“You really did that?” Lucifer asked shocked. He never thought that (y/n) can even say curse words.

“Yeahh… well now I’m here.” She said smiling at him lovingly.

Lucifer’s pov:

I’ve missed her so much. Her voice, her eyes everything about her.

God I love her…

“Wait what”

Shit. I said that out loud.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkk Lucifer calm down breathe in ,breathe out. SHIT NO how can i mess up this badly already. I mean she just got here and you’re telling her that you’re so stupid why did you do tha-

“I love you too, Lucifer”

“What.”

No one’s pov:

“I love you too, ever since you left heaven I realized that more and more everyday but I also knew I could never be with you. You were in hell and I was up there in heaven also you were with lillith-“ (y/n) was cut off by Lucifer after he calmed down from his internal panicking.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, because now you’re here with me and nobody is going to change that” he said while leaning, glancing at her lips until their lips touched.

It was something that both of them wanted for a long time and it’s finally happening.

His hand went to cup her cheek and the other one went to her waist.

But then she flinched way.

She wrapped her arms around herself, almost as if protecting herself from something.

Lucifer did know what caused this or why was this happening but he knew he had to help.

He went closer to her but not touching her to not trigger her even more. “(Y/n), my love, it’s me, it’s okay” he said trying calm her down.

She looked up at him. She was scared. But why?

When she saw it was him, she started to clam down “I’m sorry it’s just something that happened u-uhm it was-“

“Love, it’s okay you don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I will never do anything to hurt you. I love you and I mean it.” He said softly. “Darling, is it okay if I hug you?”

She nodded and was immediately wrapped in a warm hug.

She realized she was safe, with Lucifer, finally.

☆

[askthe-r-m-au]

Oh golly gee willakerz! It's that time again!!

I can't write for shi-

Also finally this is the part where Voz is introduced so I can answer some things about his existence-

[The Ring-Misstress | Chapter 3: The project]

There was about 1 more day until the big launch of The Amazing Digital Circus computer game. The recently promoted Co-Ringmaster had lay awake in her bed the night before. All this combined with the constant looming need of an exit was a whole lotta pressure. It's probably the exact opposite on Caine's end...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Within the circus walls, outside of bounds was Caine. He, too, had been up all night (but for a few more reasons). They had much less time than he thought they would. He may have to continue adding the finishing touches throughout the week. Hopefully, it shouldn't be too much trouble. I mean, he does have Pomni to help him and- POMNI! HE'D NEARLY FORGOTTEN TO WAKE HER UP!

The ringmaster quickly pulled out his WackyWatch.

☆Ah, it's only been 5 minutes...☆

☆5 MINUTES!?!☆

Gadzooks, he'd better hurry if they wanted time to prepare for tomorrow.

Making his way towards her door, he couldn't help but realize. After the other day, he'd felt awfully strange. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity of Bubble not being there. He'd never thought that he could ever let a virus in under his watchful eyes. How long had Bubble been like that? Had he just gotten infected by something sometime before or something else? Something about his absence made him uneasy...

Buuuuut now was not a good time to think about all that! He couldn't spend time thinking about such silly things when they had such important matters!! He had such to to and- Okayy... get ahold of yourself, Caine! What is wrong with you today??

He took a quick breath and reached his hand to the door (witch was very shaky when did that happen???).

Okay... you can do this...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

☆GOOD MORNING, POMNI!!☆

Pomni jumped from her bed, startled at the fact that Caine actually used the door for once. Not that she minded.

♧Oh- uh- morning, Caine... wh-♧

The ringmaster cut her off impatiently.

☆COME NOW MY DEAR FRIEND! WE HAVE LOTS TO DO TODAY!! WE HAVE A VERY BIG DAY TOMORROW!! NO TIME TO WASTE!☆

♧Huh? Hold on, what're you-♧

She looked up at Caine and back down at herself, recalling the last few days' events.

♧Oh... alright, one sec.♧

☆Great!! Meet me out here. I have something I wanna show you!!☆

She grabbed her hat and cane, sitting on a small shelf next to her bed, and headed out to where Caine said he'd be.

♧Alright... what's up?♧

☆I'm glad you asked!! See, I've been working on this for a while now, and I thought it'd be great if we could work together to finish up on my most recent project!!☆

He snapped his fingers, and in front of Pomni stood a little model. Closely resembling her old jester outfit, but more green instead of red, except for the additional party hat. Which was also lined with teeth?? Eh, it makes sense if Caine designed it.

Other than that, he looked... rather adorable. The little guy opened his eyes, taking in his new surroundings as Caine began to speak.

☆This little Fella is Voz. Or a V.irtual O.ffspring Z.imulation!☆

♧Wait, doesn't that start with a- nevermind...♧

☆I know, I know, it just rolled off the tongue more. Aaaaanyway, this little guy will be able to get along with the other players, as well as help the rest of us with minor tasks! Or, yaknow, just do other kid stuff.☆

♧Such as..?♧

☆A- well, let's ask him!! Cmon, little buddy, say hello!☆

Voz took a big gasp of air before attempting to speak. Except his words came out all glitchy and distorted. You could hardly make out what he was saying.

[H- h- ɛl·l -o¿ -lo-?]

Voz covered his mouth, and another tiny gasp escaped. Pomni looked at Caine in confusion.

☆Heheh... so maybe he can't speak... b-but that's where YOU come in!! Your job is to help program him, you can start by giving him a voice!☆

Pomni looked down at Voz then back up at Caine.

♧Well how? I don't even know what he's supposed to sound like.♧

☆Well... what do YOU think he sounds like??☆

Pomni thought for a second. She thought long and hard. She hardly remembered anything about children herself. She turned to look at Voz one more time.

[...hello?]

Out came the voice of a little boy, around 6 or 7.

He gasped and covered his mouth again. But this time in surprise rather than shame.

Pomni's eyes lit up. It actually worked.

♧Hey-♧

Caine flew in right beside Pomni, nearly shoving into her.

☆Welcome to the circus, little fella!! I'm your creator Caine, and this is your Co-creator, Pomni!☆

Caine gestured towards himself, and then his Co-host.

Voz Looked at the two standing together. First Caine, then Pomni. Caine, then Pomni. Caine, Pomni. He softly spoke up once again.

[...Papa? Mama?]

The pair looked awkwardly at each other then back at the child infront of them.

☆Oh my stars how could I forget? These things adapt to the first thing they see.☆

♧Huh??♧

☆I'm pretty sure that's a kid thing, just go with it.☆

She looked back down at Voz, who stared back, anticipating an answer.

♧I... yaknow what? Sure. Just- you can call us that.♧

He looked up at his "Parents" with huge eyes. His smile almost stretched all across his face. He didn't need to say anything for the two to know he meant "thank you".

♧Heh, you're very welcome-♧

Before she could finish, Voz ran up to the both of them and hugged their legs.

Pomni and Caine accepted his embrace. Looking down at their new project, all that dead from before? Was gone.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hectic after all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

RAH OMAIGOSH IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET BACK INTO WRITING THIS-

I procrastinated alot-

Expect chapter 4 in like...

20 years

Anyway yall know the drill, ask them stuff, ask ME stuff, and... uh-

Bye-bye

[future-dregs]

Spnkinktober Day 21 - Knives

Written for @spnkinkevents

I'm very late to it, but I wanted to finish out my chosen prompts.

Wincest ♡ Blood ♡ Role-play ♡ Sam's serial killer kink ♡ Bottom Sam ♡ Word Count: 3,683

Good Golly, Miss Molly!

The sign reads Jolly Molly's B & B.

Very cute.

Saccharin, even, were it not for the knife gouging it's way through the ampersand, painted blood flecking the lace trimmed blue letters.

Dean can feel Sam's eyes on him before they've even passed it.

"No."

"Dean-"

"No, Sam. I do not want spend my night in some nutjob's idea of a theme joint, drowning in quilts, and having to listen to some sadsack creep around at "the witching hour" to try and convince me, that the place is haunted. No thanks!"

"But it won't be like that!"

"Oh yeah? And how do you know, huh? Cause every time we stop at one a these, that's what happens."

Sam hand inches over and tugs on the steering wheel. "Its this next exit."

Dean smacks him. "Don't touch my Baby's wheel while I'm driving. That's gross."

Sam shrugs and pulls out his phone, nonplussed. "It's coming up, don't miss it."

"I know how to drive, Sam!"

"Just saying."

"Well. It's insulting."

Sam doesn't respond, and Dean glances over. He's got his wallet open and is flicking through I.Ds, thumb hovering over his screen.

" Now what are you doing?"

"Booking us a room."

He looks up. "They only go up to one king per room, no double queens. Do you want your own, or are you going to be my boyfriend this time?"

Sam likes doing that, now that they were getting older. Going someplace where nobody knew them and loving up on Dean in public. Calling him pet names and kissing him whenever he felt like doing it. Walking around with his chin on his shoulder and his hand in his pocket.

There was always a rush to sneaking around, flirting with the taboo nature of it all, trying to keep their voices down and their hands to themselves just enough that they didn't get run off, and they were so used to that, having to be that way , but being a visible couple was nice, too.

Plus you usually can get some complimentary booze or dessert if you play it up enough.

"Do they have any anniversary specials?"

---

Dusk is settling heavy when they pull in. The Impala grumbling pleasantly to herself as they crunch to a stop in the gravel parking lot.

The place isn't anything like Dean had been expecting. It's not like the usual true crime tourist trap at all.

Instead of a grandmother's two story with lace curtains and flower boxes, it's a long, low, log building with small windows and heavy doors.

It doesn't look suspicious, unless you know the history.

Or if you have experience with these types of things.

"Huh." Dean says. "I thought it'd be more-" he waves his hand around. "-kitsch."

"Right?! They did a great job preserving it. This is the actual place where Moll Johnston 'Jolly Molly'" and here Sam actually huffs a little laugh, mouth quirking up. "This is where she found and kept her victims. The whole place is her kill room!"

"Well when you put it like that, who wouldn't want to sleep here?"

Sam is either ignoring him or just not listening.

"I wonder if they let you go down to the cellar? It didn't say on the website."

"You gonna ask?"

"Damn right I'm gonna ask. That's where all the good stuff happened."

"Good stuff? Sam. She murdered people."

Sam just shrugs Dean's statement off, a little grin tugging happily at his mouth, making his cheeks dimple and Dean forgets everything he was saying.

He darts in for a kiss but Sam is already exiting the car and he just gets a sideswipe of shoulder and the seam of his shirt, making Sam laugh out loud, bright and genuine.

"Down, boy. Wait until we get to our room at least."

Dean has to trot to catch up. "And have you getting all distracted and forgetting about me? No thanks."

"Well." Sam says. "I guess you'll just have to find a way to, ah, refocus my attention."

And he heads in, leaving Dean to plot. There will be some sort of retaliation coming, the only question is if it will be fun, or if Dean will choose to be annoying about it.

Either way, he's got plenty to occupy himself with until then.

Sam checks them in, trying to play it cool and work his way up to the big question as he asks about checkout times and amenities, but the desk clerk has obviously been through this many times before, and they state flat out that there are certain doors that are locked, and should remain locked and are not available to guests.

"Seems strange." Dean pips up, bland but challenging. "Woulda thought there'd be at least one place here that'd for sure be your big ticket item. How come you're not showin' that off?"

"Theft. Sir. And other, unsavory practices. So if you would kindly stay to your guest designated areas-"

"Sure thing." Dean snaps up the key and hooks his first two fingers in Sam's front pocket, tugging him along.

"You've got to get me in there." Sam hisses, as they walk up the stairs to their room.

"Alright, y'little gorehound, alright. Quit whinin'."

Sam makes a face at that, disapproving of the term, but he accepts it, and is mollified.

The room isnt as bad as Dean had feared.

There are quilts, and the windows are hung with dusty lace. But, on the whole, it's much more reserved than the typical standard for places like this.

However-

"The fuck is this, Sam?"

Dean's plucking distastefully at a dark knitted swathe draped over a wooden dressmaker's model.

It's set in the middle of the room, dominating the space, and its definitely...

Something.

"Ooh okay! THAT was her kill shawl, she wore it to keep the blood off her clothes. In case she was interrupted by a new guest. It's just a replica though." He says, twisting the fibers between his fingers. "This is new material."

He sounds disappointed. "There's probably one in every room."

"Well its not like they're going to put the genuine article out where just anybody can mess with it. Some yahoo would've stolen it by now, you heard what the guy said."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Hey? Sammy?"

Dean comes up behind him, hands under his shirt, slipping over his belly and hips, following the triangular slant of muscle down past his briefs. His mouth is hot against the cloth, biting at the flat between his shoulders.

"Y'wanna get distracted?"

Sam turns in his arms. "You just can't wait, can you?"

"Nuh uh. I did. We're in our room."

He can get at Sam's neck now, licking out the hollow of his throat.

"And dont act like you're not just as bad."

Sam whimpers and crushes Dean's mouth against his throat, hand on the back of his skull. Dean shoves them back toward the bed, and as they fall, Sam twists so that Dean is under him, grinding their hips together and sucking on his mouth.

He stretches Dean's arms above him, taking one and placing his hand on the back of his neck, wanting Dean to grip him, grab him, take the hint and pull his hair. He keeps it long for a reason after all, and what he likes during sex is not disconnected from that.

When he does, Sam arches into him, fingers clawing at the fabric between them, trying to get them down to skin.

Dean's eyes are blown wide and dark, his lips the red and white of a crushed strawberry, bleeding at the edges. His voice a low rumble that makes Sam's toes curl.

"Now who can't wait? Go get yourself cleaned up and ready. I'm gonna grab a few things from the car."

"Aw but Dean-"

Sam's half gone already. Nobody can get to him as quickly as Dean can, turning him stupid with lust, a mewling wreck of desire. He wants Dean and he wants him immediate and dirty. What's this "cleaned up" nonsense? He smells like the road and they both love it, and he's barely eaten since the last time they had sex. He's ready to go! And Dean's cock in his stomach would say that he's ready too but...

"I know. And you know I just love to stretch you open, knuckle deep, licking you sloppy wet. But this time I want you to do it. I want you aching, waiting for me."

Dean kisses him. Deep and slow. Melting Sam from the inside out.

"Okay?"

Sam looks dazed and starving, diving for another kiss, running out of air, before he answers.

"Okay."

All Dean's talk fades away however, as he grabs Sam's ass and janks him back for another liquid hot kiss when he tries to get up, leaving the tangle of their embrace only to be drug back in before they can finally force themselves to break away.

Sam strips off as he goes and Dean slams to a stop halfway out of the room, eyes eating him up even after Sam closes the door, devouring his after image.

He steps into the shower, having to crouch awkwardly to get his body mostly under the spray. Sam soaps and rinses with no nonsense efficiency, then gets down to the main event of stretching himself open while he still has hot water. You never can tell how long it's going to last in places like these and plus, Sam wants to get fucked. He doesn't have time to waste.

The small bottle of complimentary conditioner is used to the fullest as Sam's long fingers spread his hole, reaching for that place of preperation and pleasure. He stops before he goes too far. He wants to be tight. He wants Dean to have to push and work and fuck him. Dean's gotten soft in his recent age, he's too careful. For Sam's liking, at least.

Sam wants to feel it. He wants to ache for days.

He steps out, dripping wet and half hard, fully expecting to see Dean waiting for him, but the room is empty.

The cloak is gone as well. Probably stuffed in one of the dressers on his way out.

No matter. Sam lays back on the bed and continues to finger himself, lazily twisting around. He'll just give Dean a good show when he comes in, penance for making him wait so long.

But the minutes pass, and he still doesn't show.

Sam's starting to get concerned now, and he quickly dresses, stuffing himself uncomfortably into jeans and pulling his shirt half buttoned over his head while trying to keep his mind from running away with increasingly crazy and violent ideas about what would've kept Dean from him and sex.

He checks the car, and with the front desk, and he's headed back to his room to get his phone, when there's a blur of movement at his right and a cloth band gets dropped over his eyes, pulled tight behind his head. A knife bites a warning into his throat. He freezes.

"Don't move. Be nice."

The hand holding the blindfold tightens in his hair and his brother's cupid lips brush the back of his ear as he asks, "Wanna play?"

All the tension and anxiety that had been growing inside of Sam releases, solidifies into a ball of lust, and drops straight to his groin.

"Please, no. What are you doing? What do mean?"

His voice shakes and he wonders who might see them, if anyone will come to help him, but they're in a curve, a blindspot in the hallway, and there's no one around.

The knife bobs as he swallows. Gulps, really.

But he taps Dean's knee, their signal in games like these. Sam's ready and willing, arching his back and shoving his ass into Dean's crotch.

The knife is removed for a moment, and there's a scratching, plastic sound, then Dean's breath becomes huffy. Muffled.

"Then you better walk, bitch."

Sam tries to glance back, angeling his head in an attempt to see from underneath the blindfold, but the flat of the knife presses into his cheek and jaw. Gently, but resolutely denying him, forcing his face back to the front.

"Did I say you could look back?" The hand in his hair wrenches, and Sam ducks and gasps reflexively. " Walk."

He's directed by the hair down and around and briefly outside, his cock achingly, uncomfortably hard by the time they go down, down, and Sam can feel the cool air chill his skin and the damp closed up must smell of underground fills his nose.

The hands leave his body momentarily, and he hears a lock sliding home.

His wrists are bound and stretched high above his head. The fine point of the knife traces a filigree pattern into the resulting exposed strip of skin.

Blood beads up, jewel-like and beautiful.

The blindfold is removed and he blinks, trying to adjust. The light is dim, but eventually its enough to see.

They've ended up in the off limits celler.

Glancing up shows that his wrists are hanging off of a very old hook, and a thrill shoots through him at the thought that he could possibly be strung up on one of the very hooks Molly had used, sharing the position and predicament of her victims.

There's a gleam in the low light. Dean's knife, hanging loose and easy between his fingers. He stands on his back foot.

Contemplative.

The dangling knife swings up, and Sam turns his head to follow. It nicks a four stroke heart into his cheekbone. Molly's calling card.

Sam's breath quickens. His eyes are wide.

Behind the mask, the voice sounds amused.

"Cute."

Sam knows its Dean, there's no hiding that. But the flat white plastic oval of a mask he's wearing, blank and empty save for two hollows for the eyes, is just distorting enough to be thrilling.

Especially since he's wearing nothing else but the kill shawl and an erection.

The knife trails down his cheek, kissing him cold, before it come to rest on his throat, reversed, with the blunt pressing against his jugular. He can count his pulse in the blade, and he knows Dean can flip it to the razored edge before either of them can blink.

He tries to keep the excitement out his voice, hoping it comes across as tremulous and shaken.

Judging by the way the mask dips down and to the side, Dean biting his lip to stay in character and not laugh, he's not sure he succeeds.

"P-please." Sam says. "Your knife is so big. I'll do anything you want, just dont hurt me."

Dean's other hand comes up, presses his thumb into the mark on Sam's cheek.

"But hurting you is what I want."

He swipes the gathered blood across Sam's lips.

"You look so pretty when you're cut up and bleeding."

"I'll do anything." Sam repeats. Trying to look voluptuous, enticing. Definitely feeling needy. "People say I look so cute on my knees."

He tries to hook a leg out, draw Dean closer to him, but Dean steps back and shoves the blade harder against his throat.

"Don't. That's not how this goes. You don't touch me. I'm going to do things to you, and you're going to do what I say, and ONLY what I say."

He cuts a deeper line into Sam's belly.

"Understand me? Now, undress. Make it look good. Get my cock leaking."

He unhooks Sam's hands. The strap still dangles from a wrist, but he now has motion.

Dean's knife comes up to rest on his collarbone.

"And if you try to call for help or run away? You'll be dead before your guts hit the ground."

He presses and drags, opening a thin seam of blood.

"Get to it."

Sam slowly unbuttons his shirt, gasping at the pull of each one as it comes undone. The sounds are perhaps a little overkill, but theres only so much you can do with a button-up.

He let's it fall halfway down his shoulders, and then shimmies it the rest of the way off.

"I'll need you to move your hand if I'm supposed to get the undershirt off."

The knife moves to the inner of his thigh and presses in there, riding the seam, tip pointed straight into the heat of his crotch.

Sam shudders. And he bucks up involuntarily against it.

It's a mistake and he knows it, but he couldn't control it. His hips were moving before he could think.

Dean grabs him by the hair and twists, viciously.

"What did I say? What did I just fuckin say? Huh? HUH?!"

"Ah, ahhh. Only-only do what you say."

Dean shoves him back.

"You don't listen. And bitches who dont listen get fucked up. That's why you did it-" he grabs Sam by the top of his hair and wrenches him down. "-isnt it?"

Sam's wrists are bound again. Behind him. Tighter. Dean takes that knife again and cuts all his clothes off. He makes no effort to temper his strokes, and Sam's covered in blood and shallow wounds by the time he's done.

He very nearly comes because of it.

Dean swaps the hunting knife for a small, fixed blade vein opener that he'd had waiting.

He taps Sam's mouth with his knuckle.

"Open."

Sam complies, mouth pink and pretty. His breath panting and hot.

Dean drags his thumb down the middle of Sam's tongue, over the points of his molars. The salt and dime taste of him floods Sam's senses.

"Gorgeous. Now-" he places the flat of the blade on Sam's tongue. "-you hold that real still, cause it'll cut that sugar mouth of yours all up if you're not careful."

Gingerly, Sam closes his mouth, tongue working delicately to keep the razored edge balanced. He doesn't dare swallow, a sure way to turn his gums and tongue to ribbons, so the saliva fills and spills over, drooling down his chin and off the knife's short handle.

Carefully, Dean grasps the handle. Pushing and pulling he mimes fucking Sam's mouth the blade, getting lost in the slide of it between his lips.

Blood joins the lines of saliva swinging between them.

Dean gets down to Sam's level, and the knife passes through his lips one last time before Dean wipes off on his hair and sets it aside.

"Give me lips." He taps the low center of the mask. "Kiss me."

Sam licks his own lips, painting them in his blood. He leans forward and presses a perfect, half open print against Dean's mouth. Or at least its mask's approximation.

He pulls slowly away.

"Should I kiss anything else?"

He's on his face in an instant, the distinct click of a lube cap being flicked open sounds behind him.

Dean covers his cock, and without any further preamble, shoves himself into Sam.

Hunting knife in hand he grabs Sam's hips and shoves him forward and back, opting to use his body like a cocksleeve.

Sam loves it.

The handle and fingergrips of the knife grind into the bone of his hip. There'll be a bruise there later and he can't wait to see it, surrounded by the crescent bites of Dean's blunt nail.

Dean's breath is going ragged behind the mask and Sam starts to talk. Incendiary words getting punched out of him, goading Dean faster and rougher.

Begging to be fucked, and used and torn apart.

Calling Dean his own, and a monster he wants to be cut up eaten by.

Telling him to use him like the whore they both know he is for his brother.

Dean comes, slashing hard across the side of Sam's right thigh. Blood spatters the floor, streaks free flowing rivulets down his leg. He'll probably need a stitch or two to comfortably close it up, but it's not deep enough to cause any true damage or need immediate attention.

He'll clot eventually.

Dean shoves the long handle of the knife into Sam's hole, cum dripping out around it, streaking his balls as he thrusts.

"I want you to cum on it, Sammy. Shove your ass back and ride it."

Sam does.

Or, does his best.

It's awkward.

Rising up on his knees he tries to thrust but its shallow and difficult. He can't brace himself properly or get any sort of a rhythm going.

Until Dean slaps a hand, dripping red from where he'd been milking the blood from Sam's thigh, across his chest and shoves, trapping Sam between the two pressures.

Sam whimpers, and crashes back, the hilt of the knife finally able to give him that satisfying scrape he needs, to send him careening, whited out, over the edge.

His cum streaks the floor, his chest and belly, the underside of Dean's forearm. Dean snatches the knife out of him and slices a shallow gash across the small of his back. The flash of pain twines perfectly with the pleasure winding up his spine and his body shocks it's way through another partial orgasm, wrenching every last bit out of him, bleeding his dick dry.

Dean janks the knot out of the cord, and Sam sags against him, hips still twitching and humping. He's covered in sweat and blood and cum, his hole gaping and dribbling. He tries to clench, to keep Dean inside of him, but he's worn out and his muscles just won't do it. It serves to only send another heady gush down his legs and to the floor.

Dean drops to his knees and sucks the remainder out, holding Sam up by the thighs as he quakes around him, shuddering against his face.

He stands, and rolls it in his mouth, before Sam opens his like a baby bird.

Begging.

Dean dribbles it in, swaps the rest of it with a kiss, and Sam gulps and sucks on his tongue until it's gone. Fucked out and content and utterly exhausted.

"Y'know you're right?"

Dean says.

"This place didn't turn out to be half bad."

[Ao3 link]

[potatoqueensays]

hey u shoudl iek,,,, tootally tlak about that reverve falls au rehash you said you were amking,...... for like.,.,,, totally no reason,,,,,,, yeah,,,,,,,,, dont mind the voice recorder dont mind it im not the fbi wdym we;re in an interrogation room what gaslighting isnt a thing ure tripping anyways

HI!!! HI HI HI!!!! ANON HELLO!!!!

...So yes!!! I am working on a teensy weensy little rehashing of the Reverse Falls au. I'm sure as we all know, the original is a bit....outdated so to say. What with suspicious art and some questionable decisions here and there.

I'm not saying mine is better! No way no how, I'm absolutely sure there's a bunch of people out there with something better. This is just a little thing I'm working on with a friend of mine ( @danklemckspankle ) and how we would imagine a reverse falls au. Rather than it being low-key swapping personalities, it swaps roles as it should. And I'd like to think the premise is exciting as well! It makes me very very happy to talk about it as it's been plaguing my mind for a week or two. Tbh ever since book of bill came out....

So!! Lemme talk about it a little!!! I hope you're ready for a little mystery wink wink

Ahem. So! Our little story starts in a little shack called "The Shack of Telepathy"!! (So original yeah I know)

Bud Gleeful is the shack owner, living as a single father with his son Gideon Gleeful. Bud makes money by being a tourist trap, grabbing people in under the premise of reading their minds! (Gravity falls people are just easy to read but shhh don't tell Toby)

Gideon is a little 9 year old with a heart of gold and full of promise. It's a new summer in Gravity Falls and he has big plans! He wants to have the best adventure he can, and hopefully get a new badge on his vest!!

Yes, this little guy wants to be a boy scout!! Unfortunately, there is no chapter in Gravity Falls, so he's gonna have to make one himself!

Here's my little drawing ref of Gideon. Look at him, he's so squishable

With his dad's pin machine, he makes badges whenever he does something good or a big accomplishment! (His pride and joy badge is the one he made with his dad on Father's Day :] )

He really wants to have a good summer. He hopes, by golly, he hopes.

Now a neighborhood down, is town darling Pacifica Northwest. Her family isn't as rich in this as canon, so her family sits as upper middle class at most. Modern suburbia yk? Her family wants to set an example for the people of Gravity Falls, taming the weirdness out or whatever they say.

Pacifica just wants a summer where she can have a little relief. Away from the eye of her parents and the public. Just one day where she can be herself!

Little drawing ref of Pacifica. She still wears a bunch of makeup. (Just....maybe one less powdering. Maybe.) Also she's 12.

So she goes walking in town while her parents are busy planning their big weekly barbeque or whatever. She comes across this kid named Gideon. He compliments her sense of style and makes an offhanded comment about making a badge or something.

Now Pacifica, despite however much her parents influence her, starts her own trends and styles. (With the permission of her parents) So when this kid compliments her she goes on a (grateful) rant and they hit it off!

Gideon tells her about his dad's shack, and all the business business business Bud does. Pacifica talks about her parents planning events every week and, begrudgingly, church. They scurry off into the woods to just explore, and be kids!

On their way as Gideon is messing around with nature, they come across this metal tree. Weird, huh. They do some digging around and press buttons, when a crater opens in the ground!! Pacifica goes to check it out, pushing Gideon back in case of danger.

What they see is a journal! Very dusty and cobwebbed, but a journal with the number 3 painted on it. They pick it up and peruse through it. Pacifica is skeptical at first, wondering if it's part of any tourist trap Gideon's dad planned. When Gid says no, they realize the journal mayyyy have some merit. With how weird Gravity Falls is all the time and the little things that happen here and there, the author of this journal could be telling the truth.

So when they go back to the shack, the talk about the journal and what it could mean.

Now I haven't planned too far ahead to make a full writing of each episode, barely even the pilot, but! This is the gist of it in my head.

As you know, yes I mentioned Ford was evil! And I'm keeping a little of the previous reverse falls lore for this (surrounding the pines. Other things will be different!)

Maybe I'll make a post talking about the pines, but y'know. I just wanna talk about the general feeling I have for it in my head.

Have a bonus doodle of Gideon reading the journal (for an author who doesn't deserve it)

I'm very excited to work on this. Mayyyybe I'll share a bit of the roles with you that are swapped. Juuuust to keep interest ;)

Bud -> Stan

Stan -> Mixture of Pacifica and Gid's parents

Pacifica & Gideon -> The mystery twins ofc

Wendy -> Robbie

Soos -> Dude he's just himself here. Soos is perfection and cannot be interchanged (he goes undercover for Stan and works at the shack every other day. Undercover name is Deuce because of that one guy that looked like him 👍)

Shitty discord whiteboard sketch of Soos :]

Ford -> Bill tbh. How else is he gonna be so evil?

I'll probs make another post talking about the pines family, but I'd like to make colored refs of them first y'know?

I hope this catches your interest. Other characters are reeeeally integral to the plot and I'd like to keep the mystery just for a little moment 💥💥

Anyway ty for asking I'm so very happy to share this with someone that's not already aware of it 🎉🎉

[punsmaster69]

9/MAR/20XX

"Uuugh."

frisk groaned as they wiped up a mess of orange juice.

"How did I even manage to miss that badly?"

"We are all a little loopy in the mornings."

"Golly. The cup was RIGHT there... and yet you still missed!"

"Maybe you should leave that to Toriel still, huh?"

flowey laughed at frisk's misery.

"Flowey, be nice."

"...Though, I am more than willing to assist you if you need help, my child."

"I can pour it normally. Just... not right now, apparently."

"like she said - it's mornin' still, and you just woke up. don't beat yourself up over it."

i glance to flowey.

"and don't let any flowers beat you up over it, either."

"I'll say what I want!"

a stern look from toriel.

"....."

he huffs and goes back to picking the cereal out of his marshmallows.

toriel gave this a disapproving look too, but it's a regular occurrence.

she helped frisk pour another glass of orange juice, and they slumped back in their chair, deflated. don't know if i've ever seen a kid look more upset while drinking oj.

"Are you still planning to follow Sans home after you eat?"

they looked at me.

"paps won't be back until around ten."

"I'm good to hang out with you until then."

"alright."

"Flowey, will you be-"

"Staying here."

"I don't want to be around those two nincompoops alone for two hours."

again, an occurrence too regular for her to bother saying anything about anymore. these days, she almost doesn't even notice the insults sometimes. i think everyone else tunes them out a little, too.

——

"...."

"so, are backwards shoes the new thing?"

"..What?"

frisk paused and looked down.

"........"

"How."

they started walking again.

"No wonder they felt weird."

"you wanna stop and fix 'em?"

"I'm gonna take them off at your house anyway, so I'm gonna just deal with it until then."

"well, c'mon - this way. i know a little shortcut."

——

a ball of paper bounces off my skull.

frisk slams their head into the side of the couch, not accounting for the fact that it'd hurt.

"Aggh-"

"careful."

uncrinkling the ball, there was the start of a drawing with scribbles where the legs would be.

i folded the page back up, and they loosely smacked it out of my hand.

the paper smacked them in the face.

". . ."

".....jeez."

"lady luck's got a vendetta against you, huh?"

sitting bolt upright, they shouted.

"Not just that, but I keep messing stuff up - and then having the WORST luck with just about everything else!!"

throwing their arms up in the air...

and immediately hitting my brother on accident, who just entered.

"Oh mY GODDDDD-"

curling forward into a ball.

"welcome home, bro. you're a bit early."

"HELLO..."

looking with concern at the human groaning annoyedly on the couch in front of him.

"...UM."

"IF YOU'RE UPSET ABOUT HITTING ME, WORRY NOT! I AM A-OKAY!!"

"IT TAKES MUCH MORE THAN THAT TO HURT SOMEONE AS STRONG AS I!"

"not just that - their luck's been shot all day."

"And shit."

he sat himself onto the couch and dragged frisk like a stuffed animal to his chest for a hug.

"HAVE NO WORRIES - THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE TO BALANCE YOUR POOR LUCK OUT WITH MY OWN INCREDIBLE LUCKINESS!!"

"AND NOW THAT I'M HERE... WHAT ACTIVITIES SHALL WE DO, HUMAN?!"

".....Can we just sit here?"

"WH-"

"sounds good to me."

"WAIT, WHY??"

"Nothing bad can happen if I do nothing at all."

"sound logic."

"NO, IT ISN'T! NOTHING GOOD CAN HAPPEN, EITHER!!"

"If you're here, that's good. That happened and I didn't do anything to cause it."

"WELL, YES. BUT THAT WAS INEVITABLE. I WAS ALWAYS TO COME HOME AND HANG OUT - AS ALREADY PLANNED."

"And I wanna hang out by doing nothing."

"......"

"we could at least put on a movie."

"...."

"DOES THAT SOUND NICE, FRISK?"

"...Yeah."

"and i'm pretty sure we've got popcorn still."

"we'll do a movie night."

"IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER FOR SURE!"

——

they dumped the bowl of blackened kernels into the trashcan.

they sighed defeatedly.

"..W-WELL. THAT'S OKAY! WE'LL JUST MAKE YOU ANOTHER BAG."

he opened the cabinet and grabbed the popcorn box, reaching in and... patting the empty inside.

"......."

𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮.

𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮.

𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮.

frisk pounded their head against the sink door. i put my hand between the door and their forehead to lessen the impact of the blows.

my brother gently pulls them away from the door by the shoulders, turning them around.

"NOW, NOW. THIS IS OKAY, TOO!"

"WE STILL HAVE-"

"me and undyne split the last of the chips the other day."

"...WE CAN STILL STOP BY THE STORE AND GET YOU A SNACK THAT DOESN'T REQUIRE ANY PREPARATION!"

"here, i know a shortcut."

"Another?"

"yep."

"COME ALONG!"

——

exhaling every bit of air they had, frisk looks between the cash on the counter, and the total on the screen - thirty cents short.

quickly appearing beside them, papyrus moves all their cash back into their bag (slipping an extra ten in) and pats frisk's head as he hands it back.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, FRISK. I WAS GOING TO PAY ANYWAY!"

the way they looked at the machine, you'd think it was about to reject papyrus' card or blow up or something.

it didn't. he quickly waved goodbye to the cashier as he scooped up frisk's items into a bag himself. he passes it to frisk, and they take his hand. with the other, he grabs onto my hand.

"MAYBE WE CAN WALK! FRESH AIR SHOULD DO EVERYONE SOME GOOD."

halfway down the sidewalk, a branch catches frisk's bag. the bag tears; their chips and candy fall to the floor - sweet tea rolling away.

i stop it with my foot, picking the other items up as well.

"i'll pack 'em. no problem."

taking the torn bag and shoving it into my pocket, we continue walking.

a bit further on, papyrus spots a puddle on the side of the road. spontaneously grabbing frisk and lifting them up, a car speeds past and sprays him with water - i just barely get out of the way.

frisk remains unsoaked, thanks to my brother's quick thinking.

"...WHEN DID IT RAIN?"

"sometime last night."

"AH. I SEE."

"Thank you Papyrus. I'm sorry."

"DON'T BE! IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT."

"maybe we take a shortcut after all."

——

the rest of the day, papyrus is extremely diligent in making sure nothing else happens to frisk. in the end he secretly seems thankful for the doing-nothing choice.

it really is easier to keep someone out of bad luck's way when they're sitting still.

papyrus makes tomato soup for dinner, deciding nothing can go wrong with that. to be absolutely certain, he cools it to nearly room temp before serving any to them. when frisk almost spills it, he hands them a straw.

"...isn't that a bit much?"

"It's fine. Not like I haven't used one for soup before."

"CERTAINLY NO WAY TO SPILL IT WITH A STRAW."

succeeding again, he messages tori to say he'll keep them just until bedtime.

"YOU NEED A BAD-LUCK COUNTERBALANCE LIKE ME AROUND TODAY."

frisk nods in silent agreement.

both me and frisk are impressed at his ability to navigate around unlucky situations throughout the night, but i suppose he 𝗵𝗮𝘀 been dealing with 𝘮𝘦 forever. avoiding messes is basically a special skill of his at this point.

when it was time for frisk to go home, paps was still pretty worried and accompanied them all the way home - apparently even going as far as to tuck them in himself, according to toriel.

[pastacurls]

Hi tumblr I HATE this episode with a burning passion.

I cannot fucking do this, not even 5 minutes into the episode these mfs are like “who’s gonna replace tsubasa and yu for our last battle!?” And IMMEDIATELY gingka’s little gay ass goes “kyoya! 😄”

THEN for once in his life kenta is like “hey guys maybe i could do this?” And these mfs GASP???? Like yall were there last season wtf are you gasping for???? You know how capable he is. The only one with ANY right to gasp is masamune and the mf has still seen him fight so like????

And when kenta starts being like “I going with both tsubasa and yu during the selection battle! And I’ve been training really hard since then! Please gingka!” (Which is heartbreaking in itself bc I will never shut up about their relationship) GINGKA FUCKING GOES ���ehhhh” like?!?!?! Bro??? What are you doing that for wtf. And when kenta is all like “or maybe not 😅” my man switches up and he’s like “or maybe yes!”

JUST WHEN I THINK THAT FINALLY KENTA GETS SOMETHING IN THIS FUCKING SHOW. THE CHINESE REP TEAM SHOWS UP.

Listen I love them as much as the next guy, I would die for chi-yun but MF GET OUTTTTT. THIS ISNT ABOUT YOU. LET HIM HAVE THIS PLEASE.

Kenta actually speaks up for himself and he’s like “no we already decided it’s gonna be me!” Their leader is all like “okay so we’re gonna battle for the position! 🤪” which is just fucking ridiculous like yall have no reason to be here in the first place.

Then while they’re battling FUCKING MASAMUNE AND GINGKA JOIN IN BC???? THEY WANT TO?????

And when they all about to attack gingka’s dad shows up and he’s like “no lmao I’m gonna be the replacement for gan gan galaxy!” And hikaru is like “erm actually that’s not allowed bc ur an adult! And also ur running part of this.”

So they start arguing again and hikaru pulls out her rule book AGAIN and is all like “former participants may not fill in as replacement members.” So everyone is crushed cuz obviously the Chinese rep team has already participated.

But KENTAS lookin all down and I’m like “huh????” Cuz my man HAS NOT participated before.

Tell me why. Tell me why the SELECTION BATTLES ARE THE REASON HE CANT DO THIS. I hate yall just let the little man have this PLEASEEEE

Tldr; they keep doing my favorite character dirty and I’m about to fucking lose it oh my good golly goodness.

[bundrops-n-fluffytops]

Welcome Home Agere Fic - Sing Me to Sleep

Characters: Little!Howdy Pillar, CG!Barnaby B. Beagle

Setting: Howdy’s Bodega (Checkout Desk, Upstairs Breakroom)

Premise: Barnaby notices that his good pal Howdy is overworking himself to the point of losing sleep. Concerned and determined to help his buddy out, he decides to sing him a lullaby to help him sleep. The next morning, he discovers something about Howdy he initially didn’t think he did.

Author’s Note: Another agere fic, this time with Howdy!! I kinda headcanon Barnaby and Howdy as childhood friends, like Barnaby befriended him while he stayed at the farm with his ma, so here it’s mentioned for a bit at the beginning. Hope that’s ok!!

Also the lullaby that Barnaby sings is ai generated, not an original song, so don’t think I write songs too jfkgk

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Ever since the bodega opened in the town of Welcome Home, the lovable yet goofy Barnaby B. Beagle always made a point of visiting. Considering it was run by an old pal of his - that being the ever so hardworking Howdy Pillar - he couldn’t just ignore it! It even had all his favorite things in it; rubber duckies, party horns, endless streams of ribbons, the whole nine! For the price of just a simple trade as well, it was a perfect store!

Of course, it wouldn’t be the same without the man of the hour - or say, caterpillar. Barnaby had always admired the blood and sweat put into every little detail of the bodega, from the paint jobs to the shelving and even to the currency. It was a marvelous sight to see, but he couldn’t expect less from such a diligent and determined shopkeeper. Always toiling and moiling and working himself to the bone to make sure that progress did well and that every customer left with a big smile on their face, he could do no bad.

That… did bring a glaring problem to the surface, however: he did this all the time.

Because his never-ending perseverance and his insistence to make sure that business was booming at the seams, he often tired himself out. And by often, that meant a lot.

The bags under the titular caterpillar’s eyes looked as if they’ve been personally drawn on with permanent marker, with how dark they were. Often times, Barnaby would accidentally catch Howdy almost falling asleep at his checkout desk, but immediately perking up when he noticed that the comedian was watching. He would wake up and catch Howdy still up at the tender hours of night sweeping the floors or wiping the windows or even restocking the shelves.

It was concerning, to say the least. He had occasionally brought up the idea that Howdy could at least lay low for a short while, take a small break. However, the poor shopkeeper would break into a nervous sweat and go, “Oh but who will run the front counter while I’m gone? I’m the only one who works here, I can’t stop now! This shop will go belly-up if I quit here, I just can’t!” It almost broke the dog’s beating heart to see him in such a fit of distress.

He wanted to fix that, and he knew exactly how.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

The sun set behind the trees one hot and sweaty evening, and Howdy was finishing up the last of his chores for the night: restocking the shelves, sweeping up any dust and grime, and wiping the front windows squeaky clean. Barnaby took quick note of this and strolled towards him, humming a jovial tune.

“Well howdy do, Howdy! Lovely afternoon we got here, but golly is it sweltering! I feel like I’m on Hell’s front porch with a pipin’ fever right about now, huh?” Barnaby greeted himself, chuckling as he did. Howdy looked up from wiping the front window, rubbing his sleepy lids with his lower right hand and smiling drowsily.

“You’re not wrong Barnaby, heh! I can feel myself melting like a snow cone in Phoenix!” He replied, wiping his forehead of the pooling sweat and turning back to wiping the windows clean. Barnaby snickered, nodding his head to the statement.

An awkward silence fell on the two. Howdy cleared his throat.

“Ahem, uh… what brings you here, ol’ pal?”, he asked, “ya’ need something from my shop? Any horns or… fake teeth or spinning plates?” The shopkeeper began to put up his bucket of suds and washrag before being stopped by the comedian.

“Oh no, I’m fine as frog hair, buddy! I just came to ask ya’ something, if you have the time, of course.” Howdy perked up at the request, but paused and sighed wearily.

“If you’re asking for me to take a break, Barnaby, then no. I’m not letting this business fall because the one man working here-“

He quickly got interrupted.

“Aww, come on Howdy! You’re exhausted and practically sleepwalking, if you keep working in this state you’ll be dead on your feet!” Barnaby protested, crossing his arms and huffing.

“Barnaby, you really don’t understand,” Howdy rebutted, “this is a matter of needing rather than wanting. Anyone and everyone could come, and if they see me lounging around, doing everything but, I’ll be letting them down! Soon the progress of this whole business could go down, and take me with it. I can’t ‘take a break’ because I am literally against doing it.”

Barnaby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Howdy sure dug his heels deep in this business, huh? The titular dog wracked his brain for quite a while, thinking of a good way to pry his four arms away from the building… until something popped up.

“Oh well, I guess you’re right… but I do still have something to ask of you.” Howdy sighed, lifting his head towards him with his brow furrowed.

“Will you at least let me sing something to you?”

This tripped the caterpillar upside for a moment. Sing for him? Why exactly would this dog want to sing for him in the dead of night?

“Uhh… may I ask why? That’s a rather odd question to ask, really,” Howdy questioned the dog.

“Oh, well I had been listening to the radio recently and I happened to stumble upon the most loveliest tune! It had me painting the town red, it was lovely!” Howdy tilted his head curiously.

“Hmmm… well what song was it? I think I may have some records inside so you can sing along.” Barnaby grinned widely. His plan was working perfectly.

“I’m pretty sure it was called…Sweet Dreams and Strawberry Milk? It was a guitar song too, very slow and calming.”

“Hmmm… I don’t seem to have that song on a record, from what I can remember.” Barnaby’s heart dropped.

“Buuuuut I do have a guitar! Maybe you can play it on that?” And just like that, the plan was still in motion.

“Oh, superb! You always seem to have something on you to fix a situation, don’tcha? Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go inside before the wolves start howling!”

Barnaby quickly grabbed Howdy’s free arm and dragged him inside the bodega, leaving behind his sud bucket and rag. After a few quick directions, both the dog and caterpillar made their way to the upstairs breakroom.

The breakroom itself was quite large, to his surprise, it almost doubled as a separate house. In one section of the room, a small kitchenette with an oven, fridge, and sink, along with a sofa, record player, and television. In another section, a large bed spread along the room, with a dresser and closet on one side and a bookshelf on the other. In between both sections was a bathroom that he could conveniently walk into any time he wanted. The breakroom as a whole had a sort of forest or plant theme, with leaves and flower decorations galore, it was like shrinking and walking into Poppy’s garden.

Barnaby made their way towards the second section, sitting down on the edge of Howdy’s bed. Howdy strolled towards the closet, opening and rummaging through. He pulled out a large guitar and walked towards the bed where Barnaby sat, handing over the guitar.

“Do make this quick, ok pal?,” Howdy admonishes, slipping off his shoes and taking off his hat. He might as well get comfortable in case things get too long. Barnaby waved his hand dismissively, holding the guitar in his paws.

“Ahh, don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Howdy,” he reassured, “I’ll be quicker than green grass though a goose!” Howdy chuckled at that, smiling slightly.

The comedian took a minute to tune and adjust the chords to the guitar, making sure he wasn’t off-tune, before holding the guitar to his chest. He took a deep breath… and began to sing.

Close your eyes my little one

Drift away to sleep

Dream of fields of strawberries

Growing tall and deep

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Imagine a garden of red

With vines and leaves so green

Picking the ripest berries

For the sweetest milk you've seen

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

As the peaceful lullaby rang throughout the bedroom, Howdy could feel his head begin to cloud up and his eyelids to feel heavy. He suppressed a yawn but caught himself stretching his arms and back.

He then decided that he rest his head for just a moment, if only for a second. He figured he would be awake by the time the song was finished, so it couldn’t be that bad.

As you lay here in my arms

With your eyes closed tight

Let the taste of strawberry milk

Take you through the night

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Sleep now my little one

May your dreams be bright

With strawberry milk in your thoughts

All through the night.

Barnaby cleared his throat after finishing the song, gently placing the guitar to his left. He turned to face Howdy, who had been silent throughout the entire song, to ask him how he felt, but he instead found Howdy fast asleep beside him. How silly of him to drop off mid song, and in his work clothes too! Barnaby snickered to himself at the sight.

He decided that it would be best to stay the night. He pulled the blankets on the bed over the sleeping shopkeeper, tucking him in comfortably, before quietly leaving the bedroom. He made himself towards the other half of the breakroom and towards the couch, and pulled out the longer section to lie down. Turning off the lights and getting comfortable in the process, soon both of them were in a peaceful slumber.

The plan was a success.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Barnaby suddenly awoke to a strange noise.

He blinked himself awake to the sudden sound, trying to make sense of his vision. He could make out the kitchenette and the television, and what couch he was on.

Ah, yes, he was at Howdy’s place.

The sun was pooling through the closed curtains and birds were chirping their morning song, signifying a new morning for the sleepy beagle. He slowly stood up from his position and stretched his arms and back wide behind him, popping anything that needed popping.

His attention soon turned to the strange noise that woke him up. It was shrill and loud, yet desperate, if it made sense. It was occasionally interrupted by a slight hiccup or sniffle, before going right back to the shrillness.

Was that… Howdy?

It had the same voice as Howdy, had the same pitch (albeit a tad higher than usual), he could recognize it from a mile away. But what exactly is making him wail this loud?

He had to go investigate.

Barnaby slowly got up from the couch and quietly made his way through the breakroom towards Howdy’s bedroom. He hesitantly knocked one, two, three times, making sure it was quiet but noticeable.

“Howdy? Is that you in there?” Barnaby asked, hands on hips and his face screwed up into that of concern. If his suspicions were correct that this was indeed his pre-pupated pal, then this was quite out of character of him. He wasn’t that open with his inner feelings as he didn’t want them interfering with work, so hearing him so distressed was… odd.

He was quite surprised to see the door swing open not long after he knocked, but what surprised him more was what answered the door: a shaky and teary-eyed Howdy, covered in a colorful blanket and his thumb halfway in his mouth. It took him by surprise for a bit, before quickly being replaced with a brotherly concern.

“Oh jeez… you okay, bud? What happened?” Barnaby said, resting a gentle paw on the shivering shopkeeper’s shoulder and rubbing it slowly. Howdy only sniffled and hiccuped, lowering his head and covering his face with his hands as he continued to cry. The blue beagle took that opportunity to hesitantly wrap his arms around the both of them in a comforting embrace, letting Howdy rest his head on his shoulder.

“Deep breaths, bud… let’s go over here, ok?” Barnaby said quietly and reassuringly, taking one of Howdy’s hands and leading them to the nearby sofa. The titular caterpillar sniffled, wiping his eyes with his hands and popping his free thumb back between his lips. They both trudged towards the comfy cushions, sitting comfortably beside each other with hands clasped gently. Barnaby leaned his friend’s head towards the crook of his neck, letting Howdy rest against him as the bigger dog began to rub his back slowly.

“Hasn’t been your best morning, huh buddy?”, Barnaby said, his voice low and quiet and reassuring. Howdy sniffed, nodding his head silently.

“How’s about I settle here until you’re up and running again, hm?”, the blue beagle suggested, “It don’t seem like you can even walk properly, let alone run a store like this. Not good shape for a guy like you, huh?”

Howdy furiously shook his head no at that notion.

“I know, I know,” the blue dog continued, “you wanna run it. We can always take a day off though, can’t we? It can’t hurt to lay low for at least a day. It’s only about one in a few hundred days, isn’t it?” The small caterpillar sat there for a bit, his head filled with thought. Barnaby scratched his noggin for an idea, then snapped his fingers once it came.

“How about this,” he started, “maybe I can stay and settle with you for the day until you’re feeling better? That way you won’t have to worry about feeling lonely, ok? How does that sound?” Howdy looked down to his feet, wringing his lower hands together in thought. He didn’t want to let the business down, and he felt bad that he was so upset when Barnaby found him.

However, he wasn’t wrong. He had been quite stressed for a few weeks, and he was teetering towards passing out and never getting out of bed. Plus, in his state, how would he run the shop? He could barely talk. It wasn’t an argument at this point, really. He needed this break.

Howdy hesitantly nodded.

“Good to hear, bub,” Barnaby said, squeezing him towards himself a bit tighter. He then stood up and wipe his paws on his vest, and turned back to Howdy.

“You mind if I hold you, bud?”, he asked, lowering himself to the smaller caterpillar’s level. Howdy nodded, holding out his lower arms and flexing the fingers in a grabbing motion. Barnaby gripped his sides and hooked his hands underneath his upper arms. He lifted him up slowly and rested the caterpillar on his hip.

“Now there, how’s about we get you dressed in something nice, m’kay? Those slacks don’t feel so good now, I can find something better for today.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

[howlingday]

Day 2 of "9 Days of Lancaster"

Reincarnation ◇ Dealer's Choice

"Jack~!" A piercing whistle is heard. "C'mon home, boy~!"

Jack ran through the woods to home, where his master shouted from the porch. Barbed seeds stuck to his golden fur and marred the shining hair as it swayed in hot noonday sun. Coming up to the porch as his opened the door, he ran inside to get a good drink from his bowl. His master then crouched with arms open for a hug. Jack began to lap up his master's face with jubilance.

"Gotcha!" The arms ensnared Jack, who tried to wriggle away. "Nuh-uh, you ain't goin' nowhere, boy. You're gettin' a bath an' a cut!"

Jack could only whimper as he was brought into the bathroom.

--------------------------------------------------

"What happened to you?!" Laughed Running Wind. The wolf couldn't believe her weird, yellow friend had somehow managed to get even weirder. He'd been a welcome joy to her since she was separated from her pack, but good golly, was he weird for a wolf. "Your fur is all short!"

"My master had it cut." Jack grimaced.

"You're so tiny~!"

"I know. It took me forever to find my scent again."

"Well, you got it back. Well, maybe not all of it."

Jack harrumphed. Running Wind got close and nuzzled against him. Jack was pushed around by the larger canine, but he started to rub himself against her, too. It'd been many moons since Jaune was taken from his mother and, in a weird way, he'd grown to think of his master as his family. Then he found Running Wind only a few moons ago, he started to think he was having a pack of his own.

"My own..."

"What?" Running Wind leaned away, looking at the smaller of the two. "What were you saying?"

"My own... pack."

The wind billowed through the trees as they stared at each other. Her golden eyes shimmer in the day while his brown eyes reflected her to being the only thing he saw. Jack bolted through the woods, with Running Wind easily catching up to him. The two would shift between who was chasing who in this running game of theirs. Memories flowed into them from a time long before, of eyes as pale as the moon and hide as tough as human machines.

"Well, now, what do we have here?" A voice said. "Jack!"

The golden retriever ran up to his master as he was called, and the wolf followed until the forest's edge. Running Wind stood by as she watched Jack lap at his master's face. Running Wind found the display disgusting, acting in such a way to the willingly give the strange creature dominance.

"You make a friend, Jack?" Running Wind then caught the attention of the creature. "She got other friends with her? Never seen a wolf out her before." He opened the den. "C'mon inside, Jack."

Jack didn't move.

"JACK!"

Jack looked back to Running Wind, whined, then to his master.

"NO! SHE'S MY PACK!" Running Wind cautiously moved closer, as Jack ran back to her.

"JACK!"

Jack then lapped at Running Wind's muzzle, showing who he belonged to. Running Wind then lapped his muzzle in return. Together, they became a pack.

"Guess you got a girlfriend, huh?" Jack's master chuckled. "Alright. I'll set out some dinner and water for your, uh, date."

Where does this story end? Well, Jack's master would find his own mate, and the two would have babes. Meanwhile, Jack and Running Wind also had pups of their own, and the family would run and play in the woods together, all the while memories flooded in now and then of a time long before them that made everything now feel just so right.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

lullaby for a rottweiler

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: G Word Count: 1116

Summary: There isn't exactly a Protector's Handbook with a chapter on what to do if you find yourself trapped in Cerberus's mouth, so Grover decides to tackle the problem the best way he knows how: by singing the consensus song.

What Grover never mentioned to the others—what he never felt he had to confess might be a better way to say it—is that there’s a reason he was glad they didn’t take a plane to California. Another reason. A reason that has nothing to do with the three of them spending the flight huddled anxiously in the bathroom until lightning bolts blast the wings off and Percy has to save them with airplane toilet water. Which Grover, who may have dreamed that exact scenario on the train to St. Louis, doesn’t doubt Percy could have done. For the record.

The other reason he was happy not to take a plane is turbulence. He’s super not into it. Rough travel can be fun when it’s his hooves over uneven ground. It’s not even the worst, in terms of messing with his inner ears, to be on a bus during a Fury attack. Or on a train with a rampaging Chimera. A car being rammed by a Minotaur! If Grover were to explain, if he had to tell Annabeth and Percy, he has quite the portfolio of turbulent travel situations to use as proof that he’s fine 99% of the time.

Boy, it really feels like the gods are laughing at him for managing to skip the plane only to end up bouncing along in one of Cerberus’s three mouths.

This is a heavy dog, and he takes big leaps. Grover is lofted up against the solid roof of the dog’s mouth, then dropped back down on its warm, rubbery tongue. And the whole place stinks. Hades can’t get in here with a toothbrush every once in a while? It smells like Cerberus has been using the Styx as his own personal water bowl. (The scent is misery with base notes of the abandonment of all hope.) Numbed by the stench, all Grover can do at first is subject himself to a mental montage of the greasy diner food and convenience store snacks he’s been living on. Not even the good stuff, like soda cans and tins of peanuts with the peanuts dumped out.

What breaks through his fixation on the contents of his churning stomach is one word: bumpy.

Because he’s not really big on self-pity, Grover scrambles to his knees between bounds and does his best to brace himself inside Cerberus’s mouth just enough to feel like he has a little bit of control. Hey, he feels less nauseous already!

“Oh golly!” he shout-sings, and immediately regrets it; Cerberus cocks his head at the noise and jerks to a stop. Grover cringes as he’s tossed against the dog’s teeth.

“Sorry,” he says, softer. “I guess six ears are more sensitive than two, huh?”

Cerberus’s answering whine vibrates Grover bone-deep before the dog starts moving again—a jaunty walking pace that’s ramping back up into a full-out run.

“Let’s try this again,” Grover says to himself, getting situated between tongue and palate.

He clears his throat.

“Oh, golly, the road’s gettin’ bumpy ’cause I got me…” He considers the dark, reeking cavern in which he crouches. “…a hound dog who just won’t slow down. Oh, dear. When the heads are gettin’ bouncy, the trick to settled tummies is…”

Is??? Grover thinks, because it’s a lot harder to come up with rhymes when you’re lurching down the bank of the River Styx in something’s mouth than it is when you’re packing a bag at camp based on what you think your co-questers are most likely to forget.

“…a trip to singin’ town,” he picks up.

Percy and Annabeth never let him get to verse two (where you say nice things about each other, building goodwill on the path to consensus). Cerberus hasn’t spat Grover out or tried to swallow him, so, honestly, after having his friends interrupt his debut performance, he’s taking it as encouragement to keep singing. He claps a hand against his opposite arm steadily until the words come to him. It’s weird but either he’s matched his claps to Cerberus’s footfalls or the dog’s running to his beat.

“Oh, Cerby, you’re good at bein’ grumpy, you make a great guard dog, your fur’s all black and brown.” The last one’s more of an observation than a compliment, and Grover winces, hoping Cerberus is more affected by his happy tone than the exact words.

“Good boy,” Grover sings, not meaning it. “You don’t need to run fast. (In fact, slower’s prob’ly better.) A trip to singin’ town.”

His eyes widen as, miraculously, Cerberus slows. Grover lets his clapping trail off. The dog stops, he sinks. Though it feels like this mouth-elevator has reached the ground floor, he’s not opening up to let Grover out. Suddenly, a snore rumbles through him. Seems like it’s probably now or never; Grover wriggles out between Cerberus’s huge teeth, getting a thorough slime bath as he pushes past the dog’s slobbery jowls.

He's relieved to see Percy, but he directs his first words at Cerberus: “You are a bad, bad dog!”

And he is a good, good singer, he thinks, even after he realizes Annabeth has literally scaled the side of Hades’ hound to give the dog neck scritchies. And maybe Percy helped too, fearlessly standing his ground in the path of the charging dog. Three heads are really better than one! Grover glances sideways at Cerberus. Three heads are better in some circumstances.

There’s not much time, so he listens to the others’ plan, using the shoes to lift Percy off the ground and fly him up the cliff. But the dog’s getting restless; Grover can hear growling noises that do not indicate peaceful slumber. After a harrowing minute of separation and a squeak of the red ball, Annabeth joins them at the top of the cliff. She launches the ball and Cerberus gives chase. The three of them stand there for a moment, breathing hard. But Grover just can’t keep it in.

“I GAVE YOU COMPLIMENTS!” he shouts after the dog. “YOU DON’T JUST ATTACK A GUY AND HIS FRIENDS RIGHT AFTER THE CONSENSUS SONG!”

Still outraged, he turns to his friends.

“What was that thing the Oracle said about betrayal again? Percy?”

But Percy isn’t listening, so Grover looks to Annabeth for support. The scrunch of her eyebrows and the slant of her mouth say she has no idea why he’s bringing up the consensus song right now (and why would she? Grover doesn’t mind that a ride in Cerberus’s mouth is one part of this quest he experienced alone). Regardless, Annabeth pats him on the shoulder.

“Yuck,” she says, withdrawing her hand and staring at her drool-slicked palm.

Grover sighs.

“Yeah. Tell me about it.”

[pesterloglog]

Karkat Vantas, Dave Strider, Jade Harley, John Egbert, Jane Crocker, Jake English, Gamzee Makara, Roxy Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam, Rose Lalonde

Candy, page 20

KARKAT: WOW, SURE FEELS WEIRD TO JUST BE HANGING OUT WITH ALL THESE ASSHOLES WE WERE TOTALLY GOSSIPING ABOUT JUST TWENTY MINUTES AGO.

DAVE: i always knew our gossip sins would catch up with us eventually

JADE: SHH both of you!!!

JOHN: uh, hey. how are you guys doing?

DAVE: oh you know just enjoying a nice night out with our girlfriend when another teen version of our girlfriend plummeted out of the sky and bled all over our picnic pizza

JOHN: picnic pizza?

DAVE: yeah its like normal pizza except that you eat it while sitting on a tablecloth in the fucking grass

JOHN: oh cool. i’d never thought about doing that.

JOHN: i just bring sandwiches to my picnics like a dumbass.

JOHN: then again, the last time i went to a picnic, i ate...

JOHN: actually, never mind what i ate. but it sure wasn’t pizza.

DAVE: your loss bro its the only way to picnic out

KARKAT: STOP TALKING ABOUT PICNIC PIZZA YOU ASSHOLES.

KARKAT: THIS IS IN SUCH POOR TASTE.

DAVE: yeah hes right

DAVE: anyway like i was saying we were in picnic pizza heaven when fucking space tier jade from like

DAVE: i guess seven or eight years ago?

DAVE: basically face planted in a field next to our romantic tripledate

JOHN: damn.

KARKAT: YEAH, IT WAS PRETTY BAD TIMING.

DAVE: or extremely good timing

DAVE: i dont know yet

DAVE: the conversation was veering kinda

DAVE: you know

KARKAT: UGH

KARKAT: WE WERE IN THE “RELATIONSHIP REALTALK” ZONE.

KARKAT: ANYWAY, CAN WE STOP DWELLING ON THIS SHIT AND JUST GO UPSTAIRS?

JANE: Jake!

JANE: Would you take Tavros out of here? Please?

JAKE: Well golly jane i just thought it would be invigorating for the boy to interact with someone else his age for once.

JANE: Well, he doesn’t need to do it in here. Especially not when I’m trying to work!

GAMZEE: HeY nOw ElIxIrTiTs, YoU oUgHt To ChIlL.

GAMZEE: YeLlInG aT yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg MaTeSpRiT iS...

GAMZEE: bAd FoR tHe BlOoD pReSsUrE, bAbE.

JANE: Oh, I’m sorry. Is a clown speaking right now?

JANE: It’s the darndest thing. I could have sworn I just heard a nearby, offensively odiferous clown offering some advice when no one asked for his opinion.

ROXY: woah janey u doin ok

JANE: I... I don’t know.

JANE: I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately, trying to run my business, raise a child, and manage the political situation indirectly through various corporate machinations...

JANE: Jake! Why are the children still in here?!

JANE: Take them to the playroom. Now!

JAKE: Aye aye maam!

JANE: I don’t know why, but I’m having an extremely difficult time reviving her.

JANE: Where did she even come from?

JADE: we have no idea

JADE: its like the sky just opened up!

KANAYA: Well Obviously She Is From Another Timeline

KANAYA: Darling Can You Perhaps Shed Some Light On This

ROSE: I...

ROSE: I haven’t the faintest clue.

ROSE: It could be anything.

JANE: Well, something is blocking my Life powers.

JANE: It’s as if she has... a sort of poison in her. Not a literal poison, mind you.

JANE: If it were as simple a matter as there being something in her bloodstream, I could revive her lickety-split.

JANE: It’s deeper than that.

JANE: It’s like... a poison eating away at the very core of her being.

JANE: It’s attacking her on... perhaps this sounds crazy, but...

JANE: A metaphysical level??

JADE: huh?

JANE: What’s so odd is that not only can I not bring her back to life, she also, somehow, doesn’t feel entirely dead.

JADE: oh

JADE: i wonder if that has something to do with me?

JADE: like, being here???

JANE: How so?

JADE: well... all of our selves across infinite timelines are actually just one self right?

JADE: like... one ultimate self distributed across multiple bodies

JADE: so in multiple places and states at once

JADE: every jade that exists is like a light being shined through a thousand cracks in the timeline

JADE: but if were outside the place where that light is being split from...

JADE: maybe only one of us can exist

JADE: and thats why shes stuck in this horrible state :(

ROXY: i thiiiink that janey was just bein melodramatic jade

ROXY: its not ur fault

JADE: what should we do with her?

ROXY: well

ROXY: hate to be the one who says what were all thinkin but...

ROXY: sounds like its time for another funeral lmao

JOHN: lmao??

JOHN: roxy, jade is dead, and you’re probably going to give birth within the week!

ROXY: yeah so we gotta start planning this one right now

JADE: ???

ROXY: cmon guys

ROXY: how longs it been since we were all together like this?

KARKAT: I’M SORRY, WAS THAT A RHETORICAL FUCKING QUESTION OR WERE YOU GOING SOMEWHERE WITH IT?

ROXY: it was not rhetorical at all

ROXY: the last time we were all together was

ROXY: dirks funeral!

JANE: Roxy, at the time, we were mourning the death of a dear friend...

ROXY: i know right

ROXY: nothin like the death of someone we love to bring us all together again

ROXY: weve all been so busy with being pregnant and birthin a thousand trolls and the political situation that regulates the troll birthin...

ROXY: we dont even have time to catch up anymore :(

JANE: Um. Roxy...

KANAYA: Perhaps We Should Not Talk About That Particular Subject

KANAYA: If Your Concern Here Is That We All Continue To Be In The Same Room Its Probably Best We Avoid Bringing Attention To The Reasons That It So Rarely Happens

ROXY: aw cmon politics should never get between friends

KARKAT: UH, EASY FOR YOU TO FUCKING SAY.

JADE: karkat... lets not ok?

JADE: i mean, not now?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT WHAT?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT THE GIANT FUCKING TRUMPET BEAST IN THE ROOM?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW KANAYA, TEREZI AND I WORKED JUST AS HARD TO CREATE THIS WORLD AS ANY OF YOU, BUT OUR PEOPLE DON’T EVEN GET A SAY IN HOW THEY GOVERN THEMSELVES?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW THE CRIMES OF ALTERNIA ARE HELD UP TO UNFAIR SCRUTINY ANY TIME A TROLL WANTS TO FUCKING DO OR SAY SOMETHING ON THE NEWS, BUT WE’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GENERALIZE HUMANS BASED ON THE WORST THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN YOUR HISTORY?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW ALTERNIA WAS BASICALLY THE SACRIFICIAL FUCKING MILKBEAST UPON THE ALTAR THAT THIS UNIVERSE WAS BUILT ON, BUT YOU ALL ACT LIKE WE’RE SO LUCKY YOU DEIGNED TO ALLOW US TO EXIST ALONGSIDE YOU INSTEAD OF JUST LETTING US FUCKING DIE OUT THE WAY IT WAS INTENDED?

ROXY: um excuse you karkat but no one acts like that

KARKAT: OH? NO ONE???

KARKAT: I LISTEN TO THE FUCKING NEWS, YOU KNOW. I’VE HEARD ALL THE ARGUMENTS, THE ONES BASED ON THE POLICY ADVICE YOUR CORPORATE THINK TANK FEEDS THE PRESIDENT.

KARKAT: DO YOU THINK THAT IT’S BEING BROADCAST AT A FREQUENCY ONLY HUMANS CAN HEAR OR SOMETHING? DO YOU THINK WE’RE THAT STUPID?

KARKAT: EVEN I CAN TELL THAT THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE TROLL KINGDOM IS CHANGING, AND I HAVE NEVER ONCE WILLINGLY HAD A CONVERSATION WITH MY NEIGHBORS. EVERYONE’S STARTING TO GET SCARED.

KARKAT: MORE THAN THAT, THEY’RE STARTING TO GET PISSED.

JANE: Is this meant to be a threat of future violence, Mr. Vantas?

JANE: I’m not sure menacing me is making the most compelling case for your political claims.

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT.

KARKAT: ARE YOU ALL FUCKING HEARING THIS?

JANE: Yes, Karkat, we are all most definitely hearing this. It’s somewhat unavoidable with you shouting it all at the top of your lungs.

KARKAT: SORRY, I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE KIND OF DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO HEAR ME, WHAT WITH YOUR HEAD SHOVED ALL THE WAY UP YOUR *BIG*, **FAT**, ***ASS***!!!

ROXY: woah damn

GAMZEE: hEy BrOtHeR cHiLl OuT

KARKAT: FUCK OFF GAMZEE.

GAMZEE: wOaH wOaH, kArKaT mY DUDE wHy ArE yOu AlL lAsHiNg OuT aNd ShIt?

GAMZEE: i ThOuGhT wE wErE mOtHeRfUcKiNg GoOd.

KARKAT: NO, WE ARE NOT “MOTHERFUCKING GOOD.”

KARKAT: WE WILL NEVER BE “MOTHERFUCKING GOOD.”

GAMZEE: yO c’MoN mAn I mOtHeRfUcKiNg ApOlOgIzEd AbOuT gOiNg AlL oVeRbOaRd WiTh ThE mAlIcE aNd MuRdEr AnD sHiT.

GAMZEE: a MoThErFuCkEr ReDeEmEd HiS mOtHeRfUcKiN sElF!

GAMZEE: Y’aLl CaN’t GeT sAlTy WiTh YoUr HoMiE nO mOrE. tHaT bE aLl ThE rUlE oF rEdEmPtIoN, mY bRoThErLy BiTcH.

KARKAT: I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY THE “RULES” ARE, DUDE.

KARKAT: I DON’T CARE IF YOU PROSTRATE YOURSELF AT MY FEET AND LICK THE FUCKING DIRT OUT FROM UNDER MY TOENAILS.

KARKAT: DON’T FUCKING TRY TO DO THAT BY THE WAY. I’M OBVIOUSLY BEING FACETIOUS. IF YOU ACTUALLY TRIED TO TOUCH MY FEET WITH YOUR DISGUSTING, ROTTEN SMELLING TONGUE I WOULD PROBABLY BE FORCED TO REACH DOWN MY THROAT AND PULL OUT MY OWN PUMP BISCUIT.

KARKAT: THAT WAS ALSO ME BEING FACETIOUS. MY POINT IS, DON’T TOUCH ME, DON’T SMILE AT ME, DON’T WINK AT ME, DON’T HONK AT ME, DON’T DO *ANYTHING* IN MY DIRECTION, GOT THAT?!

KARKAT: WE ARE *****NOTHING***** TO EACH OTHER, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME, “““““BROTHER”””””?????

GAMZEE: kArKaT... yO tHeRe’S gOtTa Be SoMeThInG i CaN dO.

KARKAT: NO.

KARKAT: NEVER IN THE WILDEST DREAMS OF YOUR SOPOR SOAKED PEABRAIN WILL WE BE “MOTHERFUCKING GOOD,” GAMZEE.

KARKAT: BECAUSE YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH THE GODDAMN ENEMY.

KARKAT: BECAUSE I STILL HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT WHAT YOU DID.

KARKAT: AND BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK YOU EVEN DID WRONG IN THE FIRST PLACE!

ROXY: woah ok karkat i get ur all fired up about politics and stuff but lay off gamz ok

JANE: Yes, can’t you see that he’s sincerely trying to have a redemption arc?

ROXY: i get if u dont wanna forgive him that totes your business

ROXY: but you gotta at least admit that hes makin an effort here

GAMZEE: hOnK.

KARKAT: THAT’S!!!

KARKAT: IT!!!!!!

KARKAT: FUCK YOU, AND YOU, AND ESPECIALLY YOU.

KARKAT: IN FACT, FUCK ALL OF YOU. I’M LEAVING!

DAVE: dude

KARKAT: WHAT PART OF “ALL OF YOU” DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, STRIDER?

KARKAT: ARE YOU AS DEAF AS YOU ARE STUPID?

KARKAT: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY.

JADE: dave what the FUCK did you say to him downstairs?

DAVE: uh

DAVE: nothing?

DAVE: tbh i think hes been holding all that in for a while

JAKE: By jove chaps what was all that commotion?

JANE: It was nothing, Jake. Go back to the playroom.

ROXY: no wait

ROXY: jake were havin another funeral

ROXY: we dont got much time so im appointing you officially third in charge of the planning committee

ROXY: after me and callie obvs

JOHN: oh my god, roxy, are you really serious about this funeral idea?

ROXY: yeah why wouldnt i be?

JOHN: christ.

JOHN: i’m all for like, honoring the memory of this departed version of teen jade we barely know, but...

JOHN: you’re SO pregnant!

ROXY: yea im pregnant as shit but i dont see anybody else steppin up to the plate

ROSE: Roxy, I understand the sentiment, but are you really sure it’s...

ROSE: Appropriate?

ROXY: yup

ROXY: its even more appropriate now

ROXY: after all the bullshit thats happened we need a good bash for the sake of team unity

KANAYA: I Admit To Still Being Ignorant Regarding Many Aspects Of Human Culture

KANAYA: But A Funeral Is Not What I Would Call

KANAYA: “A Bash”

ROXY: lmao thats cuz youve got no imagination kanaya

ROXY: well make sure its lit AF right jake

JAKE: Golly i do love me a good soiree no matter the circumstance.

JAKE: Id be chuffed to the nines to be your third man on this one rox.

ROXY: then its official

ROXY: this time next week well corpse party like its the end of the world!

ROXY: er

ROXY: again!!

JOHN: ...

ROSE: ...

DAVE: ...

KANAYA: ...

JANE: How is it that no matter how hard I try to keep the foolishness in my life confined exclusively to my romantic partners...

JANE: I invariably find myself surrounded by clowns regardless?

GAMZEE: hOnK.

[bbbcnnie]

ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿ' ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿ' ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵐᵐᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡ !

ᵇᵒⁿⁿⁱᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵍˡᵒʳⁱᵃ ᵐᵃʳʸ ᶜᵃʳˢᵒⁿ

BONNIE CARSON? out here on the road, they have a reputation of being CUNNING + HUMOROUS but also RECKLESS + EASILY AGITATED, no wonder they’re called BONNIE. according to local legend, they’re 30 and when they pull up to camp not a soul can mistake the sound of GOOD GOLLY MISS MOLLY – CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL following them. some say they carry A FADED, YELLOWED PICTURE OF HER CHILDHOOD CAT; A PIECE OF RED STRING TIED AROUND HER FINGER THAT SERVES AS A MAKESHIFT WEDDING BAND; HER NAN’S PRAYER BOOK; EVERY RAY CHARLES TAPE SHE COULD FIND IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT  and have been traveling with THE CON JOBS.  ( soph ! )

pinterest - spotify 

CUE: ‘Our Father’ – The Five Blind Boys of Mississippi

A run-down bungalow-like shack, that probably used to be a farmhouse of some kind before big corporate came to town and robbed everyone of their land. Plaster’s coming off the wall, slowly but surely, but it’ll be another couple months before it gets damp and cold and someone’s actually gotta do something about that, so it’s ignored for now. The deep south, the 1950’s, in the midst of stifling heat, that’s where Constance Gloria Mary Carson is born, to mixed feelings – her father rejoices, a girl! Just what he wanted. Her mother only sighs and slumps back into the pillows. A girl, harder to get out of the house and working than a boy. Maybe she’ll be lucky again the next time ‘round.

Rolling Fork, Mississippi may have be a literal hellhole in every aspect of the word when looking back on it now, but from 1955 to 1960, the vast wasteland her father lovingly called their ‘backyard’ had been nothing short of an adventurous playground for little Connie May. Running around the place while momma shook her head and daddy read his paper, swinging by the tracks to watch the trains roll in and out every day, try and chase them for a bit until your lungs were burning and you were forced to stop, skip back home for a bland, in no way nutritious dinner. With a population of barely 1,300 , there was not much else to do. Perfect place to grow up, huh?

Soon enough, the Carsons turned from a family of four to a family of seven, and once deemed old enough – ‘She’s five, Jerry, for Heaven’s sake, she’ll manage watching’ the little ones, calm your horses’ – Connie May’s childhood abruptly stopped as she instead assumed the role of primary caregiver for her three younger siblings. Mom and Pop had to work all day, every day, with the paint peeling off the walls and the floorboards disintegrating underfoot, they had no other choice. In the neighbourhood, though, there are people who’ve got it worse, and the Carson’s are a pious family, so Connie May doesn’t even think about being unthankful for the little they have. Because they could have even less – when little Connie thinks about that too much her lips begin to quiver and her eyes grow awfully hot, a stinging pain underneath her lids as she tries to blink away her tears. Her mother had once reported, complained, nearly, to Mrs. Johnson from too houses down that Connie May was ‘a sickly little creature blessed – or cursed – with empathy’.

CUE: ‘Oh Happy Day’ – The Edwin Hawkins Singers

From the get-go, Connie May just … knows she’s different. She can feel it. It causes trouble from the moment she starts to talk. She’s an opinionated little girl, never shy to speak her mind. Because when the Swinging Sixties roll around, as Connie grows older and wiser, it gets increasingly harder and then, one day, impossible to ignore the inevitable. Rolling Fork was a death sentence. You’re born here, you procreate here, you die here. Simple as that. As your fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers have done before you. Get married off to the highest bidders, have a couple kids – or a couple dozen – and care for them while your slob of a husband goes to work at his shitty job that has him earning just enough so you’re just poor, not dirt poor.

Everyone around her, neighbours, classmates, they just .. .accept their situation. No, they are content with it. Content with knowing there’ll be no space for surprises, for action and adventure and all the fun stuff Connie May reads about in the novels she secretly slips from the library. That the furthest they’re ever getting from here is Louisville, if they’re lucky. It’s infuriating. It’s making her lose her mind.

The only escape from insanity is every other Sunday, when Momma and Daddy have to work and Mr. and Mrs. Dowall from next door take them to church. And heavens, does Bonnie love church. Not their regular church! Oh no, that’s just a stuffy little room, full of the same snot nosed kids she sits next to at school, who pull her hair and call her ‘nanny’ because she can’t join them at the county fair, has to watch her siblings instead. No, no, the Dowall church is different. The service there is the most exciting part of Connie May’s week. There’s always laughter and singing, gospel and worship in the way that she can get behind. A few weeks later, Mr. and Mrs. Dowall, with Momma’s approval, gift her two of their old records.

There are few fond memories of home, but one of them is dancing around the living room to ‘I Got A Woman’ and ‘Strange Things Happening Everyday’, standing on her father’s feet.

CUE: ‘Jesus Is Just Alright With Me’ – The Doobie Brothers

Connie May turns 17 in 1972, and by that time she’s got 2 friends, excluding her three younger siblings. Obviously excluding them, whatever connection she’s had to them has faded ever since their mother had begun to use Connie as a prime example for a person that had failed in life. Because her brother Robert had married his high school sweetheart the second they’d both turned 18, and he’d moved out a day after the wedding. They’re just … kids to her now. They’re getting older, too. They all take after her mother. It makes Connie sad, her dad, too, she sees it in the way he scratches his beard as if he’s lost in thought when, really, he’s tragically melancholic. Connie often wonders for how long her parents have been unhappy for.

Well, the ‘swinging sixties’ have come and gone, and so have the Dowell’s from next door and the fun services. Not dead, oh no, they just moved to live with their daughter and grandchildren, down in California. Good for them. Connie’s left, and she’s using the music they’ve gifted her to rebel against fucking everything in this god forsaken town. Tommy, Misha and her listen to records their parents don’t allow them to listen to because it’s ‘filthy, ungodly music’ in secret. Somehow, Connie May managed to convince her Momma that The Doobie Brothers were a nice, Christian rock n’ roll band. Maybe she’d had a gift for the odd con job ever since the beginning, huh?

CUE: ‘The Wild One’- Suzi Quatro

It takes another five fucking years for her life to finally change. In the year of our Lord, 1977, a dishevelled looking young woman with a million dollar smile rolls into town and Connie can only think of divine intervention as the cause of this … this miracle. Freshly twenty two, she’s already a burden to her parents – and reminded of that fact daily, thanks Momma! – and wants nothing more than to get out but there’s no way to escape. No loophole. Until, enter stage left, Tatiana appears. And changes her life for fucking ever,

First by changing her name. A simple mishearing turns Connie May into BONNIE and it just sticks. She sticks with it. She’s a new person and ready to embrace it.

Everything about Tatiana draws her in, and it is quite possible that the other woman is the coolest fucking person Bonnie has ever met. She’s so … god! She’s so everything that Rolling Fork is not, everything that Bonnie wants to be. She’s funny and nice, in her own way. She’s the most beautiful woman Bonnie has ever laid eyes upon. She’s dangerous and Bonnie craves the thrill of the unknown more than oxygen.

It's a quick and easy decision when Tatiana fina-fucking-lly invited her to join her on the road, live a life of adventure. In the dark of the night, Bonnie stuffs only the most important of her belongings into a duffel bag, leaves a note for her father telling him she’s safe and happy, and expressing her hope that he, too, may find happiness again, and then jumps into the passenger seat, laughing manically. Ready to leave her old life behind.

She doesn’t even glance in the rearview mirror when the pull out of the driveway.

However, Bonnie does lean out of the window as far as she can as they pass the sign that, in ugly faded letters, says: “You’re now leaving Rolling Fork! May God bless you and come again soon!” A fair bit of it was left covered in her spit.

CUE: ‘Whole Lotta Love’ – Led Zeppelin

Bonnie adjusts to life on the road fucking awfully at first but hey, she’s got much to learn and Tatiana is the best teacher one could’ve asked for. Bonnie might be naïve but she’s more than ready and willing to thrust herself into this life of crime. A little confused but she’s got the spirit! Most times her job’s simply to wait at the side of the road and look pretty and then pump the fucking gas when she goes from distraction to getaway driver. It’s turbulent, everything moving so fucking fast, but Bonnie has never felt so alive.

And so they make their way through the States, got a little routine going of sorts. Until one day, when they turn from Thelma and Louis to Bonnie and Clyde.

Usually, Bonnie’s got this thing where she puts on Creedence when they do their jobs, pull their stunts. This time, she goes for Led Zeppelin. Maybe it’s the thrill of the unfamiliar that causes the adrenaline to pump through her veins even faster, until suddenly, she finds herself standing behind some security guards who’d been about to corner and overpower Tatiana – she’s standing behind them and she’s got a gun pressed to one’s back while she’s got one of her boots pressed to the other’s neck. The guards let them go, they speed off, and once it’s safe enough, Bonnie pulls to the side of the road to yank Tatiana forward by her shirt. And, well, the rest is history. The rest is foggy windows and giggles and a drive to some poor pastor’s church who they bribe into giving them a marriage license, a fucking official one.

Next time they pull into the summit they’re fucking married. Spontaneous decisions had always been their forte.

CUE: ‘Blue Highway’ – Billy Idol

1985. It’s been some long years on the road since Rolling Fork. Hectic and dangerous and thrilling and just all in all fucking delightful. Even eight years down the line, Bonnie can’t find it within herself to regret the decisions that had brought her here, back to the summit, in their trusty old RV, her wife by her side. She fucking loves it, all of it. She loves Tatiana. Maybe not in the most conventional of ways for a married couple but she does, she loves her. Even if this open relationship typa situation they got on their hands isn’t her piece of cake – who’s she to complain? She might not be a godly woman anymore but she’s the same little Connie May that couldn’t bring herself to be unthankful for everything she had.

Hell, Bonnie even finds herself growing more fond of the other Con Jobs they picked up along the way. Even if she gets into fights with Wally over his choice of music every other day, even if Alfie and Wally do a god awful job of sneaking around every fucking night. She’s never wanted to be a mother or any of that shit, having spent her formative years as the sole caregiver of three little kids meant she had quite enough of kids for now.

But, then again, having cared for her siblings all these years had left its mark, and though she tries to hide it, Bonnie can’ t help but care when there’s a lost soul that needs her help. ‘Cursed with empathy’. At least you got that one right, Momma.

One rule has never waivered these past years on the road: Nobody touches the goddamn radio. Bonnie’s got full control over it. Even if she wants to take a trip down memory lane and listen to Sister Rosetta sing her best gospel hymns. Even if she wants to indulge her inner child with Madonna and Whitney’s latest hits. Everyone just has to sit and endure. So – Hands off!

[chimerinshine]

So some cuphead stuff got into my mind. Trios met by the Royal Chess Folks

(Part 1)

The Trios has been through a battle a lot and everyone consider them as a great heroes of each isles. So the rumors spread and this was heard by the King himself so he came to think about his wife was a greedy one so yes why don't he lead them to her to teach her a lesson. He was planning to pawn the trios in a good way and fun way. And ofc other folks don't know what the ey is going on to the King's idea besides King is the 2nd weakest so yeah he will need to borrow some strength.

So, the King was floating around searching for the cups and then in far far far REALLY far down way he found them and he grabbed the rope ladder and yeet it and wait until they notice and later on they did and the trios started to climb the rope ladder. And then after on King prepared himself for them and when the cups reached the castle.

Cuphead: *pull himself up in the surface* Grnhhhh! That's a lot of woods to climb one *saw the castle* *his eyes got wider and amazed* Golly...

Mugman: *pull himself* Hrmmmh! *pants* whoo! Next time let's take elevators- *notice the castle* Golly! Gee!

Ms.Chalice: *as ghost* Ahh yes! Some folks castle. Hmmm i wonder if there's a ruler in here

King: Ahem! Ahem!

Three of the cups: *caught their attention and look around see the King to the left side*

King: *smiling at them while holding his staff* Greeting! Fine brave souls i am The King Of Games *takes a bow*

Cuphead: Huh!*whispers to two* I thought he'll be taller

Mugman: Shhh! Ermm..*approaches the King* Greetings and golly good day to you your highness *bows as a respect* Ahem!

Cuphead: Oh! *approaches immediately*

Ms.Chalice: *do the same thing as cuphead do*

Cuphead: Greetings *Bows* Your highness

King: Ahaha! Not only they brave also respectful

Cuphead: *whispers and in a bow position* What does he mean also why is he laughing?

Mugman: *whispers* I have no idea

King: Rumors! About the three greatest heroes of isle which a cup, a mug and a..uhhh

Ms.Chalice: Chalice. But for now i am a ghost chalice

King: Ahh yes Chalice. As i quickly heard about it i immediately grabbed the rope and lead you here. And here you are *smiles*

Cuphead: Was it a challenge?

King: How do you know? *confused and snap back from reality* It doesn't matter it's pretty obvious anyways. And yes it is a challenge

Cuphead: Yes!

King: But!

The trios: *looks at the confused*

King: This are no oridinary challenge you have to get passed to every Leap of mine and be the hero of the day it's the only one proof or proveyourself you are the greatest heroes of all

Cuphead: Was there a prize?

King: Yes! There will be.

Mugman: Alright! Another fun to do

[taiblogcomics]

Discord and Harmony

Hey there, frozen empires. Let's finally finish up this story arc, eh? Like, do you remember when we reviewed issue 1? It was July 2022. Like, golly. Part of this is me only reviewing these when I have the physical issues in my hands (for this series, anyway), but still. It's about time, huh? Anyway, let's get into it~

Here's the cover:

This is definitely the right cover to wrap this story up with. Like, last issue, we put a bunch of the Mane 6 on the cover, but not one of them is actually in the story. In this one? Discord is very much in the story. And oh ye, if you haven't checked this out yourself already, here's your look at future!Discord in all his scraggly …well, not glory, but you get what I mean. And in spite of the unkemptness, this is such a nice cover. Look at the friendly look. And most of all, look at the symbolism. Notice the colours of those butterflies~?

So let's recap. Here in the G5 future, ponies have only just overcome their segregations and gotten magic back. Discord, who has outlived everypony else, is worried magic will drive ponies apart again. Therefore, he will destroy magic himself before it can do so. The perfect plan! To do this, he plans to melt the magic Unity Crystal in a steaming volcanic caldera. Our heroes--including Izzy, who's suffering from some flightless inadequacy, thus proving the whole thesis about magic dividing folks right--are always two steps behind and now stuck in a suspended cage. Let's see how they get out of this one!

Despite all their rage, they're still just ponies in their cage. And Sunny does rage a bit, trying to build enough momentum to shatter the floor. Hitch is very nervous about this idea, having plummeted to his doom once today already. Alas, Sunny's magic fizzles out again, and she gives in to despair for a bit. Maybe it'll be better to just wait for Discord to destroy magic, then come and let them out. After all, what has magic ever done for them up 'til now? Made them fight and got them stuck in a cage, that's what.

Except, as Izzy points out, it also brought them all together. The reason why magic feels divisive right now is that it's only been back for a short while. Everypony is still trying to figure things out how to live with this frankly life-altering change to the world. You can't just drop a new way of life into society and expect things to work out overnight. So naturally there's gonna be some conflicts while they learn a new way to live. And really, that's what unity is all about. And with that inspiration, Sunny knows how to solve a problem called Discord.

First, they still gotta get out of this cage, though. Since their powers are glitchy, they all gotta pitch in together. Hitch calls some bunnies over, and they chew through the literal cliff-hangers of the cage. This seems unwise, but everypony pitches their wings and horns in (other than "Dead Weight" Hitch), and they manage to slow the cage's descent to non-lethal levels. Slowed enough, they then manipulate the fall so it shatters the cage without really harming the ponies inside. Good thing that was the hard part, because what falls down must now climb back up.

Her flight having fizzled from slowing the cage, Zipp decides to climb the cliff by hoof if she has to. It's a bit too steep, however, and she falls back down. Luckily, the bunnies are there to catch her, which is the sort of whimsical phrase you can only say in a series about colourful talking horses. They carry her over to a hole in the ground, and disappear down it. Did Zipp just get Wonderlanded? Only one way to find out: get too close to the hole, wait for the cave floor to give out, and fall down it after your friend~

They've found the heart of the volcano, where Discord's ready to drop the Unity Crystal, all in the name of an Equestria where no one is better than anypony else. In the name of… Fluttershy. Sunny steps in, attempting to grab the crystal with her magic. Discord fights magic with magic, trapping Sunny in one of those "saw the lady in half" boxes. Zipp and Pipp rush in where angels fear to tread, but Discord just gets creepy extendo-arms and chases them with the intent to grab. Once snared, he deposits them on a rock in the middle of the lava. Good thing heat convection isn't a thing!

Speaking of Angel(s), the bunnies swarm all over Discord in Hitch's own remake of Night of the Lepus. Discord doesn't even bother with something flashy this time, he just snaps his fingers and teleports Hitch and the bnuuys onto another lava rock. He collects his crystal from his hench-possum, Reginald, and taunts Sunny than in a battle of magic, her fizzly failure could never best his. And that's when the trap springs: Sunny retorts that her magic was never meant to beat his. It's a much different magic at play here, and she shouts to Izzy to do it.

Izzy steps out and uses her magic to… move her smartphone right up into Discord's face. It's playing a video. The recording they made of that memory stone that recorded Fluttershy's final message to Discord, insisting that he let go of his anger and embrace the differences. Difference doesn't matter if nopony's the same. It's the differences that make us who we are--who would Rainbow Dash be if she couldn't fly? And all this takes place in a beautiful scene where Discord drops to his knees, tears in his eyes, cradling the phone while a ghostly image of Fluttershy comforts him.

Izzy tells him that Flutters would say the same thing if she were here now. Sure, there'll be difficulties. Mistakes happen, but that's part of life. Alone, their differences make them special, but together they can be truly wonderful. Discord considers, then hands the crystal over to Izzy. He puts Sunny back together and retrieves the others. They all promise they'll never stop working to make the Equestria Fluttershy wanted to see, one where everypony--and every draconequus--can live in harmony together.

There is no return trip. We simply return to our heroes back at the lighthouse, where Sunny reunites the Unity Crystals, reigniting everypony's magic. No more fizzles and brown-outs. Ponies all over Maretime Bay and beyond regain their magical abilities. Sunny hangs up a photo of her friends and Discord at the gates of Canterlot in a very special place: right above a photo of her dad, whispering to him that she finally made it to Canterlot.

Sunny then turns and apologises to Izzy for how she put her magic ahead of their friendship in her excitement, hoping to earn trust back someday. Izzy says she never lost it, and they hug. And the comic ends with a reworked version of the game it started with. All magic is allowed, but you must pass to every player on your team before the goal counts. Even Discord gets in on the fun. Zipp congratulates herself on coming up with it, and Pipp does a video signout to close us out~

Well! I think, after all that, it was a lovely way to end the story. There were some issues with the pacing, as we discussed in previous updates. But I think that beautiful shot of Fluttershy's memory comforting Discord more than made up for it, and gave us the ending we really wanted. And of course, they're right. It's our differences that make us beautiful, and when we work together, we become something even more beautiful.

Next issue, we already did for Halloween, remember? So we'll jump to issue 12 and get back on track~

[rwbyremnants]

NOTE: Only a couple more chapters to go! I promise to anyone still reading, I'll try to wrap this fic up before the year is out.

=Chapter 58

The following morning was all kinds of awkward. Not as bad as it could have been, but there were still awkward glances between Weiss and Kali, Weiss and her own mother, Blake and her mother, and Weiss and Blake. It was a good thing nothing had happened between Blake and Willow or nobody would have been able to speak. Salem herself didn’t seem to give a flying fig about the tension, and most of the other higher ups were the same. Ilia did notice everything was a little awkward but made no real comment.

Once they finished their hasty breakfast and were getting ready to head to class, they ran into an unlikely trio in the grand foyer. Vernal seemed to be sending May and Neon on their way with large purses – likely stuffed with stacks of greenbacks.

“Ah,” Blake said as she hefted her schoolbag over her leather-clad shoulder. “Heading out with your hard-won reward?”

“Hey, I DID win it hard,” Neon spoke up immediately. “So watch your tone, sunshine, or I’ll watch it FOR you.”

“I… what?”

“Nothing.” The lanky girl turned to Weiss and said in a casual, weather-discussion voice, “So are you alright? I mean, the last time we saw each other, you blew somebody’s dick off. It wasn’t pretty.”

Wincing, Weiss whispered, “Sorry. I was… well, he deserved it, but I was not in the best of mental mindse-”

“YES, he deserved it! What we caught him trying to do? I’m surprised you didn’t cut it off with a hacksaw!” Blake let out a startled laugh. Weiss noticed May creeping toward the door, hoping not to be noticed, and Vernal was also making good her exit because she didn’t care at all about this situation. “But yeah, you seem plenty happy right now. That’s good.”

“Guess I am. I mean… not completely ‘better’ but happier, for sure.”

Neon nodded for a second, expression casually satisfied and pleased on her behalf. And she thought that would be it. But then she suddenly asked, “Want a little help getting better?”

“Huh?” But then Neon was hanging off her, hands clasped on the far shoulder from the side where modest assets were pushing into her arm. “U-uhhh, I…”

“Noticed when I rescued you that you seemed to be giving off this… aura. A fun one.”

“Yes,” Blake suddenly cut in – literally cutting in, sliding her arm between Neon and Weiss’s bodies. “Your ‘aura’ senses were dead on the money. But she’s already got enough help getting better, and doesn’t need any from you.”

As Weiss sighed in relief, Neon giggled. “Oh golly, the jealous girlfriend was in the room all along! Wowee! Come on, can’t we all share?”

“Not with you.”

“Now, Blake,” Weiss said in a carefully neutral tone. “Just let her go. She didn’t hurt anyone by offering, so even though I have no interest-” This was directed slightly more at Neon “-there’s no reason to be so mean.”

While Blake looked annoyed, Neon sighed and slumped. “Ruining my fun. But I understand, I walked right into something monogamous, or something. No fun at all! But I’m not interested in twisting anybody’s arm into ‘fun’ - that doesn’t even make sense, right? Still, I can definitely tell you that you’re missing out.” She winked and let her tongue flick out between her little pink lips.

“Noted. But before you go, I do need to thank you for helping me.”

“Even if it was for money,” Blake put in sullenly – then watched Weiss hug the hired thug, kiss her on the cheek. “H-hey!”

“That could have gone a lot worse if you weren’t there. Thanks.”

Neon was actually a little pink in the cheeks now, even though she still had the same playfully amused look on her face. “Hey, anytime. If you ever find yourself in Alsius… look me up. JUST to say hi!” she flung at the scowling Blake. “Why are you so sensitive?!”

“Oh, leave me alone!” But the other two only laughed. Having Blake be so territorial was actually somewhat sweet.

    The rest of the day was nice enough. Weiss finally began to feel like life was getting back to normal, even if there was still a bit of work left to do. But it was improving. Yang and the rest of the Dragons were in high spirits, laughing and joking at their table, and she couldn’t help noticing Pyrrha was just as thrilled. Ruby and Penny looked more shy about their newfound deeper relationship than most of the rest of them.

The biggest change of them all was Ilia. During their lunches, Weiss and Blake had agreed that, for simplicity’s sake, it was easiest to behave as if she and Yang were the only two together, and Blake and Ilia were trending in that direction. Explaining that both Blake and Weiss were technically connected to more than one person romantically seemed too messy to get into; better to just avoid those conversations altogether.

And all was fine… until cheer practice.

The entire time, everyone but Pyrrha was giving Weiss strange looks. She kept trying to decide if they were being petty over some imagined slight, or if she wasn’t performing at her best – but she truly felt like she was. So what was their issue?

“Time for the pyramid, girls!” Goodwitch called out, clapping her hands together to get them arranging themselves into the proper formation. Weiss was used to being the one in the middle row, on the right. Gwen was supposed to be on top, due to being one of the shortest on the squad.

But that wasn’t what came to pass. Gwen, Dew, and Octavia all hesitated. Pyrrha was already in position and Nebula was ready to climb onto her and Dew once they got in position, but they couldn’t get started until the rest of the foundation was in place.

“What is the matter?” No answer. Their teacher sighed and took a step forward. “Really, I do not understand the problem. Do you need some kind of incentive? How about being benched - is that enough?”

It was Gwen who motioned her closer, whispering in her ear. Clearly she didn’t want to do it but felt impelled to anyway.

“Excuse me?! Don’t be ridiculous! Why should Schnee care what’s up your skirt?”

Instantly, Weiss felt her blood run cold. Fantastic. The possibilities were a very short list, but she still wanted to pinpoint where the problem was. A quick glance around showed three girls were all glancing at two of the others. But even though Octavia looked weirdly triumphant…

“Violette!” Goodwitch gasped in surprise as the clearly uncomfortable Nebula took off running for the locker room. What was her problem?! Gwen sighed and ran after her as Octavia and Dew glared at Weiss, as if she were causing problems intentionally.

“Alright,” Pyrrha said in a very firm-yet-positive voice. “Girls, I think we should do some stretches for a while. Make sure we keep ourselves limber.”

However, they barely had a chance to get started. A very shaken Gwen appeared a little later and glanced around at everyone briefly. But even though Octavia and Dew flocked to her, trying to ask what was wrong, she zeroed in on someone else.

“Schnee. Um… Nebula says she wants to see you.”

“What?” Standing from where she had been stretching, she said, “Why?” But she got no answer. In absence of any details, she made her way to the showers.

Nebula was seated in the exact same place she had been when two Dragons cornered her during the dance. Where there had been experimentation. And her hands were white-knuckling on the edge of the bench. No one else was in the locker room at the moment, so Weiss shrugged and made her way to her side.

“Alright,” Weiss began in a soft voice. “I’m here. Care to tell me what this is about?”

A little pink tongue poked out through her lips to wet them. “I’m sorry. I…” She cleared her throat, probably more as an excuse to delay what she had to say rather than because it was necessary. “I told them that you made me feel funny. A-and I tried not to tell them why, I didn’t want to, but Octavia got me alone, a-and she kept pushing, and pushing, and…” The tears were starting now. “It was like if I didn’t tell them what happened, they w-wouldn’t be my friends anymore, and they’re my best gal pals, and I c-couldn’t-”

“Shhhh,” Weiss soothed her, petting up and down her back. The girl jumped but didn’t pull away or protest. “I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

“Why? Like you said, I… I didn’t stop you. Over and over, I could have. I know I could have, you asked me to!”

“True. But Blake and I knew you weren’t ready. We kept pushing, and I feel as if maybe we-”

“No.”

“No?”

Biting her lips for a moment, she whispered, “You were right. I’ve had a lot of time to think over the weekend, and I realised that I was really curious what… it would be like to kiss someone, and when push came to shove… I didn’t… mind that it was a girl.” Her cheeks filled with rouge. “Especially one as pretty as you. But that’s crazy! Right? Real zany, I feel like a degenerate, b-but you were so sweet to me when you did it, and afterward, and I just screamed at you, a-and you and that Italian girl didn’t even… y-you…”

“Hey, hey,” she soothed her in as gentle a tone as possible. “It’s scary. Right? Sure was my first time. But listen. If... you want… I will accept full responsibility.”

“What does that mean?”

“You can keep telling them I dared you to do it, and it was really weird and scary, and you don’t want to anymore. This way, I’m the bad guy and you don’t have to feel like a ‘degenerate’ as you put it.” At Nebula’s shocked expression, she shrugged and said, “They already think that, anyway. You just have to go along with it; might as well, as close to true as it happens to be.”

“But it isn’t true. Weiss…” Throat constricting, she fiddled with her fingers. “I think… um… apple.”

“Apple?”

“To all of it. Apple.”

Ah, she had forgotten their little coded game. Nodding her understanding, Weiss sat next to her and anxiously rubbed her palms along her skirt. “Oh. So you actually did enjoy yourself that much.”

“Maybe not as much as you and those Dragons girls, but… it was…” Her lips split into a shy smile. “Wowee, it was like magic!”

“I’ve been told I’m quite a good kisser,” she chuckled, even if she was blushing about it.

“Does this mean… a-am I going with you?”

“What?! Oh! No, no, no, sorry!” When she saw Nebula’s face fall, she giggled and nudged her. “It was one kiss. I know those are special, and I’m honoured that I was your first. But I’m already going with someone.”

“The Chinese girl, right? Octavia told me.”

“Yes,” she said, trying not to be annoyed that Nebula kept identifying people by their race. “However… if you want a few more kisses, I don’t mind.” Crossing her legs under the bench at the ankles, she whispered, “Just so long as you understand it doesn’t mean we’re steadies. However…”

Nebula lifted slightly from her cloud of disappointment, glancing sideways at her fellow paper shaker. “Huh? However… what?”

“I know a lot of girls who kiss girls now. And would be happy to introduce you around.”

“The Dragons? But they’re criminals; they might hurt me.”

“They won’t,” she promised her gently, laying a hand on her arm. “They are tough, and they get in fights, but they don’t just attack random girls like you; it’s… not like that. They just aren’t afraid to fight back if someone hurts one of them.” Bravery flaring up a little stronger, she added, “One of us.”

“Us? You mean, you’re one of them?” she hissed in wonder.

“Yep! And trust me, it’s not so bad as you think. They’re just girls who like kissing girls and want to feel safe doing that. So… you have a choice to make, I guess.”

“I do? Oh… you mean…” She swallowed, glancing from side to side. “Either you can take the fall for me, a-and I can tell Octavia and the other girls that you made me do it… or… you’ll help me meet these Dragons?”

“Exactly.” Then she stood. “But you aren’t alone. And you don’t have to decide right now.”

She had taken three steps away when Nebula popped up and caught her by the hand, pulling her closer. Weiss felt her pulse fluttering when their foreheads touched.

“You don’t have to take the fall; that’s not right. I’ll tell them it’s just something that happened.”

“They won’t believe you,” she warned her. “They want to see me as a villain who attacked you, and I understand why. That’s how I felt before Yang swept me off my feet: nobody would ever want a girl to plant one on them. Truly believed that through and through. So you really should take your time; think about what you want, and who you want to be.”

“I want… to be Nebula,” she said incredulously, sparkling eyes narrowing slightly in defiance.

“Who’s that? A paper shaker who doesn’t rock the boat… or a woman who wants to play with Dragons?”

The poor, bewildered girl didn’t have any answer. Weiss squeezed her hand once, then left her in the locker room alone to think.

    “That’s pretty bold,” Blake said when they were hanging out by their bikes after school. As she had promised, Yang was to take her home; shared custody. So for now, she was lingering next to Yang until they were to leave. “But I can’t say I’m all that surprised. You laid it on pretty thick with her.”

“I’m impressed, Schnee,” Cinder purred as she came to stand next to her, sliding a fingertip up and down Weiss’s arm. Weiss held still and didn’t react overly, even though she did feel her heart thump a little quicker. “Didn’t think you would become a hunter.”

“Hunter?”

Even though she was already rolling her eyes, Yang said, “One of the Dragons who chases girls like you did with Nebbie. And I did with you, kinda. There’s hunters and gatherers, y’know? Like in nature, or primitive tribes from back in those days.”

“And what’s a gatherer?” she asked with a slight chuckle.

“We don’t have many,” Blake admitted. “But they’re the kind of Dragons who wait for girls to show interest in us a little more instead of seeking them out aggressively. Velvet, Ilia.”

“Ohhhh. And you thought since it was Yang who sought me out, and I haven’t really been chasing other skirts… I get it.”

Lips pressing against Weiss’s ear, Cinder told her, “You’re turning me on with this story.”

“Good,” she whispered back. “Let Emerald take care of you.” The visible fiery eye widened slightly, but she was smirking as she headed back to her special friend’s side. It was nice to see them so comfortable around each other now, and not in a “just friends” way.

“You’re a lot more of a wolf than I thought,” Yang laughed, nudging her. “Glad I got you on lockdown before you really came into your own.”

“Let me guess; it’s a turn on?”

“Hell yeah.” Blake and Coco were already nodding their agreement with The Dragon, and Cinder was still smirking hungrily. “None of us had the princess pegged for a hunter; even me. Though I knew you were made of tougher stuff than you thought.”

Folding her arms over her chest, she turned away slightly. “Hmph! I think I’m being insulted. You girls really don’t have any confidence in me.”

For a moment, they were all laughing at her. Then the laughter petered out when Nebula Violette herself walked into their midst. A quick glance around showed Weiss that her three friends had been heading for the rest of the parking lot when she broke off from their number, and stood there like fish out of water, watching as the shaking girl walked right into the midst of predators. Willing prey.

“Speak of the devil,” Cinder murmured.

“H-hello,” she just barely managed to whisper. Then she cleared her throat and said, “S-so… Weiss said that I could… say hello.”

“You have. Congratulations.” But Emerald nudged her, so she rolled her eyes and kept her mouth shut after that jibe.

“Hey, c’mere,” Yang bade her. The girl edged closer. “No like, here.” Once Nebula was within range, she pulled her right up against herself and Weiss. “This what you had in mind?”

“W-wait!” she gasped in shock.

“Kidding, kidding. You can relax.” The numb girl didn’t move when released; just lingered a few inches away, glancing between Weiss and Yang’s blazing eyes. “I’m Yang.”

“I-I’m Nebula.”

“You’re cute,” she purred – and instantly, Nebula was squeaking and blushing. That fast. Had Weiss been that easy when she first was targeted by the greaser girls? “We could eat you up… if that’s what you want. But Weiss said you were just kinda testing the waters. No problem, take your time.”

Hands glided over Nebula’s shoulders, making her jump – but Blake quickly leaned in so she could see her face as she whispered, “No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. But we’ll play with you as much or as little as you like.”

Cinder, Emerald and Coco began to circle like sharks. Ilia and Velvet hung back like the “gatherers” they were, both amused and mortified at how forward the others could be sometimes. But Weiss simply remained, halfway between gatherer and hunter.

“Do you want a kiss from one of us? Just to see if you’re really okay, or if you should be going.”

“H-hey!”

They turned as one to see one of Nebula’s little clique standing there, trembling all over – much worse than Nebula herself, who was anxious and uncertain. Gwen Darcy was actually terrified. “Can we help you?” Cinder asked, quite a bit more coldly than her questions for Nebula had been.

“Leave h-her alone! She’s… not a freak like you guys, don’t hurt her!”

“Nobody’s hurting anybody,” Blake assured her. “She’s just curious about our little… social club.” Emerald and Coco laughed, and even Yang chuckled a little under her breath.

“I don’t believe that!” She took a step back, as if she would run away, but then she darted into their midst and started tugging at Nebula’s arm, her dark curls bobbing from where they were pulled back into her ponytail. “C’mon, let’s am-scray, these girls are bad news!”

But Nebula dug her heels in. “No! Just… hang on, don’t pull on me!”

“Hey.” Yang’s word was quiet, but the thread of steel was unmistakable. “Let her go. I know you’re trying to help, but you don’t get to push her around like that.”

Terrified down to her saddle shoes, Gwen let go. “B-but you’re the ones… you’re hurting her, you were going to beat her up or s- or something. What’s with you guys?”

“They were fine,” Nebula told her in a quiet voice. “They just wanted me… they were asking if I wanted to join the Dragons. I told them I’m not sure.”

That was close enough to true. But Weiss was amused by how Nebula spun the situation, making it clear that she wasn’t in danger but not fully admitting to her curiosities.

“You’re not sure?! What are you talking about? They’re delinquents, and they act like boys! Really unladylike and uncouth, and I can’t believe- what’s gotten into you? And you, Schnee!” Licking her lips, she finally shouted, “Is this because the Chinese girl kissed you?”

A bemused Yang glanced between the two of them. “Yep, that’s it. I got a magic kiss, and anybody who locks with these lips has to have more. Wanna find out?”

“NO!” Gaping at everyone there, she finally tried to tug Nebula’s arm again - but Emerald pushed her hand off. “Hey! Don’t you touch me!”

“Don’t you touch her,” she countered with a scowl. “Unless she asks for your help.”

“What is it you want?” Blake asked Nebula softly. “If you ask for her help, we’ll all step aside.”

Silence reigned for a few long seconds. Nebula’s shame-filled eyes flicked between Weiss, and Gwen, and the others. Then, a little at a time, Gwen began to back off, tears beginning to shimmer in her eyes.

“Fine. Be one of them. Be disgusting if that’s what you want, I don’t… I was going to help you but you don’t care.”

“I do!” she said to Gwen’s back as she turned and stomped off. “Gwen? Gwen, I do care – I really-”

“Forget it,” Blake sighed. “She’s not going to listen unless you run after her.”

“Go on,” Yang prompted her with a little pat on the shoulder. “I mean, she’s one of your best friends, right? I know you don’t wanna lose her.”

However, Gwen was already on the other side of the parking lot. And Nebula wasn’t moving. She squirmed a little uncomfortably, but in the end, she turned to look up at Weiss.

“What should I do?”

“You say that as if I know,” she laughed softly. “I’m sorry about Gwen; you know how headstrong she and Octavia can be.”

“But I want her to know she’s my friend… except… I don’t want to leave you girls, we were in the middle of something…” Whimpering, she hid her face in her hands - until she felt Weiss pulling them away. “Huh?”

“You’re alright.” She gave her a little kiss on the forehead, and Nebula sighed and let her eyes fall closed. “Aren’t you?”

“Hmm…” Blake began to massage her shoulders again, and she sighed, letting her head loll very slightly as the sensation washed over her. “Oooh, that feels so good…”

A little chuckle fell from Cinder’s lips. “Good instincts, Schnee. This one is ripe for the picking.”

“Hey! She’s not a tomato!”

“Isn’t she?” Yang snorted.

“Quiet, you.” Then she cupped Nebula’s cheek to get her to look up at them. “So you are interested? You don’t mind coming along with us, seeing where this leads?”

It only took the dazed, highly affected girl a few more seconds to decide. Her chin tilted up so she could graze her lips over Weiss’s very briefly, causing a few of the Dragons to coo or chuckle. Then she pulled back, biting her lip and blushing a brilliant shade of scarlet.

“Weiss? Let’s play.”