#guy who is suspiciously good at drawing furries....

[benetnvsch]

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

anyway do u guys wanna hear about my trigun furry au i've thought too much about for no good reason. i can't finish the stuff i wanna draw until my shoulder heals so here's the lore

all plants are kestrels. normal plants are common kestrels (domina is a rock kestrel, which was originally thought to be a subspecies of common kestrels) knives & vash are mauritius kestrels & tessla was a reunion kestrel, which is a close relative that's currently extinct. because of this & the overall low population of bird people on noman's land, the eye of michael sees kestrels as holy & all other birds as sort of divine, which is great for livio and razlo, because theyre a vulture, which is one of the reasons chapel thinks so highly of razlo (he's still an amazing fighter tho i mean obviously, this is LR). this also gives them like. a very specific type of christian trauma. sorry <3 oh also rem was an owl

being a wasp, legato doesn't really have the same thing going on, but he insists that his wings make him more worthy of serving knives. he's managed to manipulate his natural venom to completely put people under his control. all of the other gung-ho guns are insects, except for dominque, who is a snake & chapel (him & nick are both canines). unless you count spiders as insects? leonoff is a spider (are scorpions insects? elendira is a scorpion)

milly meryl & roberto are all reptiles so sometimes milly & meryl will cuddle up to vash & wolfwood & use that as an excuse. since meryl's a gecko she's used her tail to capture vash a few times when they first met, since he kept running away. wolfwood is, obviously, a wolf, & tries to do that whole "you shouldn't expect me not to hurt people. wolves are predators" & vash responds pointing out wolves are also pack animals, so wolfwood traveling alone & being so suspicious of everyone must pain him, too. for maximum angst potential i've decided humans used to exist but don't anymore, so both vash & wolfwood are aware that wolves had been wiped out in certain countries bc they were seen essentially as mindless killing beasts & how hard people had to fight for the same thing not to happen in america. extremely great things to give a guy a chip on his shoulder, especially when he's been made into a killer against his will

[therantingsage]

Actually no I have more complex thoughts about the furry thing

Like....Sylvie does epithet therapy right? That’s his specialty. And Mera could really use it. Like, so bad. She really needs therapy and her issues are entirely the fault of her epithet. But she and Sylvie have no in-canon reason to be on friendly terms so like it definitely wouldn’t happen.......but they’re both furries?? Is that not the most hilarious possible starting point for them to get to friendlier terms??? Imagine if the reason Mera got therapy was because she was a furry. That’s literally peak comedy and it’s entirely possible as an in-canon reason for it to happen

Also, Ramsey. Two-loween established that he’s good at drawing muscle, right? Beefton is like 80% muscle. Sylvie is a doctor so he’s already got that suspiciously-wealthy furry energy from that, so he’d probably be one of the guys in the community that can’t draw but commissions just about everyone. And as mentioned, muscle seems to be one of Ramsey’s strong suits. If they used the same website there’s no way Sylvie wouldn’t have commissioned him a few times. Which is just funny to me because other than that they have no reason to have any idea who the other is. Can you imagine Ramsey seeing Beefton in the wild and having an existential crisis because he’s drawn that bull on multiple occasions and like?? Real?? Real Beef? Since when?? And then they introduce each other and now Sylvie has Two(2) friends instead of just one

Sorry I just have thoughts about this stuff

[thiswasinevitableid]

“On the Edge”verse - Stern and Barclay act out a scene where Stern, trying to hide that he’s a Sylph, shows up in Barclay’s, a famous cryptozoologist who is trying to find and document the werewolf, room late at night to intimidate him into leaving town. He tells Barclay that he is an FBI agent undercover at the lodge and that having any kind of reporter could jeopardize his mission. Barclay tells him to fuck off and things get heated, Stern accidentally gets revealed as the werewolf and tries another method of intimidation. NSFW, please

Here you go! For folks who want to know, On the Edge is my reverse AU. You can read this as a standalone as long as you know that Barclay is a human cook and amateur cryptid hunter and Stern is a Sylph.  Barclay is trans, and has had top surgery and phallo.

“What would you’ve done if I made it back and shared that footage I got of you?” Barclay asks from his favorite spot in the world; laid out on his boyfriends furry torso, watching him try to do a crossword puzzle without tearing the pages on his claws.

“After Mama read me the riot act, I would have tried to get it back from you before you could put it online.”

“You realize it woulda looked hella suspicious if the Lodge Manager was suddenly trying to get me to turn over my camera. Or, like, snooping in my room.”

“Hmmm” Joseph sets the puzzle book and pen aside, scratching Barclay’s back lightly through his shirt, “I would have come up with a cover story. I’m not bad at those.”

“Babe, I love you, but you’re one of the worst actors I’ve ever met.”

“That’s in roleplay. Cover stories are different; I’m me, but in a different context. I could have pretended to be an FBI Agent, for instance.”

“Oh fuck that’s hot.” Barclay groans.

“Yeah? In that case, big guy,  I have an idea...”

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

Joseph adjusts his tie, smooths down his lapels, and knocks on the door. A click-thunk of the deadbolt and it swings open, revealing his favorite Lodge resident. Barclay is a lumberjack pin-up come to life, complete with short beard and a fondness for plaid. He’s gentle to a fault, an amazing cook, and taller than Stern (when he’s human, of course). His size features frequently in the unhelpful part of Sterns brain dedicated to fantasizing about his future mate.

“Hey, you’re up kinda late.” Barclay smiles at him. His auburn hair is tied back, his thick, blue bathrobe tied tight, and for a moment Stern is tongue-tied.

When he collects himself, he crowds the other man back into the room, “It’s because something important has come up.”

“Do you have a sec before you get into it? I have something I gotta show you. You know how I’ve been on the trail of those werewolf sightings? I finally got lucky and got footage of it. An honest to god werewolf, Joseph, can you believe it.”

“Yes” he says, grimly, “that’s why I’m here. I, um, haven’t been honest with you. I’m not just the manager here at Amnesty. I’m an FBI agent with the department of Unexplained Phenomenon, and I’ve been investigating the strange goings-on in Kepler for years.”

“But...but that’s great! We can work together, with my footage and your resources, we could finally prove the existence of cryptids.” Barclay grabs his arms, beaming.

Joseph shrugs them off, “No, it’s not good at all. Barclay, I’ve dedicated my life to this mission. Any kind of publicity could put it all at risk, and that is not something I will allow. Which is why” he holds out his hand, “you’re going to give me the footage.”

Barclay balks, “Like hell I am. You wanna talk about life’s work? Half my profession thinks I’m crazy, and I’ve spent years wandering around every fucking backwater town, chasing every half-baked, wild-ass lead in hopes of finding the truth. This footage is it, it’s everything I’ve worked for, and no one is taking it from me.”

“If you don’t hand it over, I’ll charge you with interference in goverment business.”

“Fucking try it.” Barclay brings them toe to toe, glaring down at him, “the man in black shit’s never scared me.”

“It should. I know you’ve heard theories about what we do to people who know too much, and some of them are true.”

“I thought you were better than this, Joseph. I thought you were on my side.”

“I could be, if you cooperate. I don’t want to do this, any of this, but my mission is to valuable to let you post that video.”

Brown eyes dart towards the cookie-cutter dresser, the same one in each room of the lodge. Atop this one is a SIM card. Joseph is just a little faster than Barclay, grabbing the card the instant before the taller man grabs him.

“Get your hands off me!’

“Give me back my fucking stuff!”

Joseph pushes off the dresser, nearly sending them both to the floor, “No, I have it, it’s goverment property now!”

A laugh that Barclay just manages to cover with a growl, “That’s not how that works, asshole!”

“Face facts Barclay, the footage is mine, and I’m going to get rid of it.”

Barclay grabs his wrist, twisting it to try and free the card, “Over my dead fucking body!”

Joseph shoves him away, discovers two things at once: Barclay has the card, and his enchanted bracelet is on the floor. The suit rips as reality shifts, black fabric hanging, tattered, as the tie snaps and drops onto the rug.

“Hah!” Barclay’s eyes are on the plastic square in his palm. It’s not until he hears the growl that he glances up, “fuck!”

“Over your dead body?” Joseph bares his teeth, “that can be arranged.”

Barclay stumbles backwards, too focused on the werewolf stalking towards him to watch his step. His knees catch the edge of the bed and he falls onto it with a yelp. Keeps crawling, as if the headboard and wall will just dissolve when he hits them, rather than trap him. Or maybe he’s planning to hide under the cover. Joseph doesn’t really care, his plan allows for plenty of contingencies.

“You, you’re the one. The wolf in the video.”

“That’s right.” He reaches out, plucks the card from Barclays fingers. Waits until he’s watching to snap it in half and toss the pieces into the trash, “hmm, that was much easier. Maybe I should have started with this plan. I avoided it due to the downsides.”

“Like?” Barclay is gradually flattening against the headboard.

“Like the fact that if you know the whole truth about me, I can’t let you leave.”

“Joseph, please-”

“I didn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave me much choice.”

“I’m gonna call for help, someone’ll hear me-”

“Everyone at the Lodge knows the truth about me, knows I’m getting that footage tonight. They won’t come to help you, not matter what they hear through the walls.” He snarls, grabbing Barclay’s ankles and yanking him flat on his back. Fear spikes though the air, sharp and acid in his nose. The sweeter scent of arousal floats behind it. He ignores that part; it must be coming from another room.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Barclay pulls a pillow protectively across his chest, “Wait! T-there’s a duplicate if the video. I burned it to another drive just in case. If, if you kill me, it’ll always be out there, waiting for someone to find it.”

Joseph cocks his head, “That does put us at an impasse.”

“If you promise not to hurt me, I’ll give it to you AHgod” He whimpers as Joseph crawls up his body, nudging the robe open with his snout as he scents the arousal once more. It’s undoubtedly coming from the man under him.

He drags his tongue up Barclay’s throat, grips his chin to force him to keep it exposed as he snuffles and licks at it, “That’s fair. And I have a further, um, incentive for you. You” he growls low in Barclay’s ear, chuckles when he squirms, “monsterfucker.”

“Do you mean you’ll, uh” his voice creeps up an octave, “fuck me? Like, fuck me fuck me?”

“Yes, needy boy, it does.”

“Drive’s in the bottom of my suitcase, in the trick bottom of the black pair of boots.”

Joseph laughs, “That didn’t take long. I’ll deal with it later.” He flips Barclay onto his stomach with ease, “right now I have a handsome human to handle.”

“Yes, fuck, please handle me babe, please. Wanted you to touch me for months.” Barclay flails his robe off.

“Yeah?” Joseph ghosts his claws up and down the human’s sides, “does the werewolf thing add to that desire?”

“Yes” the blush spreads up his back, “I just, I want you so bad Joseph, in any form, every form.”

“Was that what you were thinking of when you put this in?” Joseph presses his thumb down on the blue, silicone plug nestled in Barclays’ ass.

“Look, jerking off to you is an important part of my nightly routine.”

“I do love a man with a schedule.” He squeezes his ass in both hands, admiring the pinpricks of red from his claws. Barclay whimpers, pushes his hips up as Joseph goes for another handful.

“I see someone likes to be submissive.”

“Fuck yeah, wanna be held down, roughed up, wanna do what I’m told.”

“Oh? Does this fit the bill?” Joseph blankets himself over the human, letting him feel how he dwarfs him.

“Uhhuh, fuck, fuck that’s so fucking hot.”

The werewolf noses the base of his neck, draws his lips back to bite it. It doesn’t break the skin, but it clearly communicates that Barclay cannot get away unless Joseph allows it. It’s rude, an inelegant sign of dominance over a partner, but Barclay has not been well-behaved tonight. And from the sounds spilling out of his chest, he likes the threat of teeth on tender skin.

Joseph rolls his hips, grinding until his cock perks up. As soon as it bumps him, Barclay reaches off the side of the bed, retrieving a bottle of lube from the bedside table.

“Glad you have a large bottle. We’re going to need it.” He works the plug out, hums approvingly when he finds it on the larger end. Dumps a handful of lube onto his cock, trying not to think of how much laundry this will all generate.

“On your knees and raise your hips. Good boy.” He works the tip in, Barclay moaning the entire time.

“More, I want more, please” the human pushes back, cried out in delight when he gains another inch. Joseph is keenly aware that his tongue is starting to loll out as he watches Barclay spread wider and wider on his cock. It’s been years since he fucked a human this way, and the tight warmth has him panting in no time.

“So, should I, ahfuck, expect your next book to include a chapter on the mating habits of werewolves?” Joseph teases, pulling Barclay’s hair free of it’s tie so he can bury is face in it, scenting him in new ways.

“Y-yeah but it’s, it’s gonnaFUCK, be like a fucking sentence, max, because the other is too busy getting his brains fucked out to research.”

“Why not do both at once?” He grips the human tight, hauls him upright and turns them ninety degrees to face the mirror on the closet door. Barclay takes one look at the clawed hands grabbing his chest and waist and tips his head back to moan loud enough that Joseph’s ears perk up. The fact he just slid another inch down his cock may also be a factor.

“Now” Joseph skates a hand down his tan, hairy belly, stops to tease his cock once before continuing lower, tilting the human so he can clearly see the cock thrusting into him, “you’ll notice that you’re hitting the protoknot. In many instances of sex, it’s the stopping point.”

“Don’t wanna stop, wanna take it” Barclay paws at Josephs arms and thighs.

“I thought you might say that.  I suggest bracing your hands on mine so you’re upper body isn’t thrown about.” He plants his hands on Barclays hips, waits for the human to follow the suggestion. Slowly, he puts more and more downward pressure on that sturdy yet oh-so-fragile frame. At the same time, he pushes his hips up, wiggling them back and forth, side to side, so the knot works in incrementally. Barclay gasps and grunts, holding him so tight that he feels his fingernails through the fur on his hands.

He gives a sharp growl and a final thrust, and bottoms out.

“AHnnnngod”

“I agree.” He dips his head, nipping and mouthing at Barclay’s shoulders. Then he grins, “if you want a sense of scale, look down.”

Barclay does, whimpering when he sees the outline of Josephs’ cock inside him.

“For such a sweet little mate, you can take an awful lot.” He starts on a slow tempo, Barclay reaching down to touch his lower belly.

“Holy shit, that’s wild. I wonder if--uh, b-babe? What’s happening.”

Joseph kisses his cheek, “Remember how I called it a protoknot?”

“It’s gonna get bigger?” There’s a fine line between excitement and hysteria, and Barclays’ voice is riding it.

“Yes. This is a reward, but it’s also insurance against you running off an revealing my existence. Keeping you stuck on my cock all night is an excellent way to keep you from acting on any second thoughts. Mmmmm, oh that’s good” he speeds up, the human bouncing in his lap, “I cannot wait to fill you up. It’s going to take all night and it’s going to be great, you’ll be covered in my marks, stuffed full of my cum, no one will doubt you’re mine.”

Barclay snickers, “Getting territorial on me, blue eyes?”

In reply, Joseph sinks his teeth into his shoulder, the thought of anyone else daring to touch his human, his Barclay, his mate, his love, driving his hips faster and faster until he spills into him, leaving no doubt as to who his ass belongs to.

“FUCKfuck, babe, baby, ohgod” Barclay wriggles, then throws his head back as Joseph closes his fingers around his cock. Turning his face leaves it half-buried in black fur, his breath warm on Josephs upper chest, “yes, that feels so good, please don’t stop, wanna cum, wanna cum on your cock.”

Joseph kisses his head, “You will, good boy, I promise.” He works him over with loving efficiency, growing more protective and affectionate with every moan and whine that Barclay tries to muffle in his chest. When the human cums he bears down and tightens, which Joseph’s body takes as a cue. He cums again as he strokes Barclay through his climax, letting out a satisfied growl at the fact he can already feel his cum starting to pool around the head of his cock.

“You’re so small” He coos, caressing every part of the human he can reach, “you’re already straining to take it. I wonder what state you’ll be in tomorrow morning.”

Barclay raises a clawed hand to his lips, kissing it before rubbing his cheek into the palm, “Only one way to find out.”

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

“Barclay? Are you with me, big guy?” Human fingers card the hair from his face as warm lips kiss his forehead and nose.

“Uh huh. When did I finally conk out?”

“Around three in the morning. I was able to pull out about a half hour later. I toweled off the worst of the mess, but you’ll probably still want a bath.”

He opens his eyes; Joseph, in his X-Files pajamas, smiles at him and then nestles down into his arms, “I already started coffee, and I got you those granola bars you like so you’re not going into your shift too hungry.”

“Thanks, babe.”

”Are you sore?”

“Sitting might be a challenge today, but it was worth it.”

“Need anything?”

He tips his boyfriend’s chin up to kiss him, “Nope. Got what I need right here.”

[anistarrose]

Man, can you imagine all the possible shenanigans that could result from Gravity Falls and TAZ Amnesty existing in the same universe? It would be great.

Ned’s Bigfoot video doesn’t attract any FBI agents in this timeline — there’s just not enough resources to investigate all the alleged cryptid sightings these days, even the plausible ones. (Their whole department has been constantly scorned, and their funding slashed, ever since the that disaster in Oregon back in 2012.)

However, it does catch the eye of two old men who just happen to be sailing along the Virginia coast when the video is forwarded to them by their nephew, and they almost immediately make a beeline inland to Kepler. It takes the Pine Guard an embarrassingly long time to realize that there’s actually two of them — identical twins, one of which seems to be a scientist of some sort and the other of which is... well, they’re not sure what his deal is, but he definitely doesn’t give off scientist vibes like his brother. Strangely, the scientist twin seems to be a firm believer in Bigfoot and other assorted supernatural occurrences, while the other just laughs off the idea whenever it comes up. 

For their part, Stan and Ford aren’t sure what to think of Kepler, either.

On their way there, they’re still both mildly skeptical (they’ve both seen plenty of hoaxes in their day, no matter how promising this specific video looks), but Ford’s instruments quickly pick up on an oddly familiar feature of the town: a perfectly circular “barrier” of sorts that extends around Kepler and has a radius of exactly one mile. If the readings and Ford’s calculations are to be believed, it could potentially trap magical creatures inside that radius, at least for a short time — an uncanny similarity to Gravity Falls and its weirdness magnetism.

When they travel to the exact center of the circle, they find a strange object in a clearing that they can touch, but not see. They deduce it to be in the shape of an archway, but no matter what they try, it remains invisible to them.

Now, it’s settled beyond any doubt that something strange is going on in Kepler, but at this rate, they’re only stumbling across more questions than answers. It’s especially strange that all of Kepler’s weirdness seems to have manifested only in the last thirty years or so — when Ford was choosing where to do his research after college, he cataloged anomaly sightings across the US, but there was nothing even remotely suspicious in this region of West Virginia back in the early 70s.

If they want to figure out the truth of this town, they'll have to have to figure out which citizens of Kepler know the truth. In order to avoid attracting too much suspicion themselves, they decide to pretend that Ford is a fairly normal, slightly gullible scientist who’s never actually encountered proof of the supernatural before, and that Stan is his more responsible brother/chaperone who’s much more skeptical about Bigfoot and other cryptids. Most people they meet seem to buy into the act without a second thought... except some of those people from Amnesty Lodge. The twins haven’t quite gotten a read on that whole group yet.

Despite their respective businesses being on opposite sides of the country, and despite not officially being in the tourist trap game anymore, Stan develops a rivalry with Ned almost the second he walks into the Cryptonomica. Hijinks ensue — Stan somehow talks his way into renting out an abandoned hotel at a criminally low price, and converts it into an impromptu tourist trap of his own. All the contents are fake, of course, but he succeeds at his apparent goal: drawing business away from Ned. After all, there’s plenty of people in Kepler who are no fans of Ned, but this new attraction? Run by a charming and mysterious pair of identical twins, including one that actually seems to know a thing or two about theoretical cryptid biology? Only in town for a limited time? Now that might just be worth checking out.

(Unbeknownst to everyone but Ford, Stan’s true motive is a bit deeper than spite. He’s always suspected Ned of knowing the truth, and is hoping to pressure Ned into showing off something actually supernatural in order to swing public opinion back in favor of the Cryptonomica — but Barclay has given Ned a stern talking-to about this sort of thing, so it hasn’t worked. Yet.)

Something else that no one realizes for an embarrassingly long time is that Stan and Ned actually worked together on a couple different heists in the late ‘70s. Of course, both of them were going by completely different identities at the time, so when they run into each other again in Kepler they don’t think anything besides “hey, that guy looks kinda familiar... I’m gonna antagonize the shit out of him while our rival tourist traps compete for business.”

Other interactions that definitely happen at some point:

Stan, making genuinely innocent conversation: so, Bigfoot, huh?

Duck, growing increasingly panicked with every word: what? Bigfoot? what about ‘em?! I haven’t seen any Bigfoots around here, and look, if you want my, uh — my professional, uh — my park ranger opinion, all the sightings, they’re just... opossums! a bunch of opossums, standing on each other’s shoulders, ‘cause, uh... ‘cause you know, opossums always carry their babies, but — but here in West Virginia, the babies don’t... always... grow... grow out of it, you know? and — and then, uh, their babies have babies, and they just stack higher and higher until it’s — it’s opossums all the way down, and there’s these big ol’ possum columns wandering the forest and people look at ‘em and think “hey! that’s a — a tall, furry thing, kinda looks like a big hairy ape! better alert the presses!” and there you have it, Bigfoot!

Stan: ...

Stan, later: Ford, you’re not gonna believe this but I found someone who’s worse at lying than you.

***

Ford: I heard you were hanging around the H2Whoa waterpark the day before its destruction. did you see any suspicious behavior? and what brought you there in the first place?

Aubrey: well, I shouldn’t really be giving out this information, but you seem pretty trustworthy, so... I work undercover as a federal pool inspector — we’re called the FPI, you see — but I’m proud to report that the investigation that day was fairly routine! no signs of anything corrupt in the management of our good Kepler waterparks, but I unfortunately have no idea what happened that night. sorry I couldn’t help you more!

Ford: ah, of course. thank you anyways.

Ford, later: Stan, I need you to be honest with me. are federal pool inspectors a thing in this dimension now

Stan: okay, one — you’ve been back for like six years, and two — who the fuck told you that

***

Indrid: so, you’re here because you think I can help you stop the disasters occurring all around town?

Ford: yes, pretty much. also, your cousin owes me fifteen dollars.

Stan: how do you know they’re related? don’t be moth racist, Ford.

***

Ford: you three adopted a monster with yellow eyes and named it Billy? really???? has this whole fucking town with all these fucking monsters just been the setup for a massive joke to be played on me specifically?!?!?!

[fabrowrites]

The Ninja Create Fursonas

Despite the title, no furries were harmed in the making of this fic

----------

When the announcement first comes through, Jay's thrilled. He can't believe it's real. It's like something out of a dream. When the day finally comes and they're on their way to the studio, he sits in the back seat and practically vibrates in place for the entire trip.

A hand settles on his thigh. "Settle down, Jay!" Cole says, laughing. "You're charging up enough energy to give us all static shocks for a week. Is your brain exploding? You're so jittery today."

"Of course I'm jittery," Jay snaps. "How are you not? This is like, the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

This thing being- wanting to ride their latest wave of popularity after defeating the Preeminent (and Nadakhan, but apparently he didn't count- yes, Jay was salty), a toy-making company had approached the group and asked if perhaps they'd be interested in a line of stuffed toy creatures made after them? As if they'd say no. And if that wasn't enough, they also wanted the ninja to be the ones to design them.

Jay just might pass out in the back of this van.

They'd been escorted into a cozy-looking room with long tables and chairs and given giant pads of paper and black markers. The head artist gave them a rundown of guidelines- nothing scandalous, certainly; they should try to make each character cute, relatable, and most of all marketable- and oh, wouldn't it be neat if they each had something to do with their element?

Jay had agreed readily. He sized up the sketch pad in front of him and cracked his knuckles. Okay, brain. Let's do this.

Except that was forty-five minutes ago and Jay's no closer to an idea than when he began. He bangs his head against the table with a long, drawn-out groan. His sketch pad drops uselessly from his hands.

"It's no use," he whines. "I don't have a creative bone in my body. I'm gonna have to pack my bags and move to the south and become a repressed goat farmer."

Kai mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "not a creative bone in my body my butt." But when Jay looks over at him, the fire ninja's attention is fixed firmly to his own board.

Blearily, Jay raises his head. Everything he's drawn looks like trash. There's a weird leopard creature scribbled out in the corner. Next to it is a lizard that looks like a cross between Rango and that purple thing from Monsters Inc except with none of their good qualities and all of their bad. A sad bird-thing sits in the center. It looks disappointed in him despite its lack of face. Maybe the blankness enhances it.

He drops his marker on the table and leans back with a long groan.

"It can't be all that bad," Nya says. She's bent over beside him, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she fills something in. Jay sighs without moving.

"I couldn't think of anything to draw so I started drawing Kai as a porcupine."

Nya whistles lowly. "That is bad," she says. Both of them ignore Kai's outraged shout of: "Hey! My face is the best inspiration you'll ever get!" She sets down her own pad, closing the cover. "Maybe if we show you what we've done, it'll inspire you."

"Or it'll just make me feel worse about myself," Jay grumbles, but he sits up in his seat properly. "Okay. Let's try that. Do you have anything?"

Nya shrugs the way she does when she's proud of something she did but doesn't want to call attention to it. "There was something I was working on." She flips open her sketchbook. Jay scoots his chair closer to hers. His eyes widen.

"Woah, Nya! That's actually really cool!"

"Actually?" Nya asks, raising her eyebrow, but she laughs when Jay pouts at her. "Oh, fine. Thanks. It's not much yet, but-"

The character on her paper is a seal, small and round, with dark eyes and a happy puppy face. At the edges of the sheet are more drawings- one has the seal in a wetsuit; another puts it in diver fins and a snorkel.

"I wanted to experiment around," Nya says. "I think I like the wetsuit one the best."

"That one's cute," Jay agrees.

From Nya's right side comes a groan. "Will you two keep it down?" Kai complains. "Some of us are trying to work here."

"Some of us are trying to work here too, but we can't," Jay sends back. Not one of his best comebacks, but it's to Kai. "I've got brain blockage and Nya's helping me out."

Kai glances over and sees what they're doing. He perks up. "Oh, are we sharing?" He sits up straighter and drums his fingers on the table. "Hey, guys! We're sharing!"

"Oh, good!" says Cole. "I wanted your feedback on something."

"Me too," says Zane.

Jay narrows his eyes at both of them. "This right now?" he says. "This is about me. Not you."

Cole waves his hand. "Of course, of course."

The way he says it has Jay hhmphing, but they both turn their focus to Kai as the fire ninja loudly demands their attention.

Kai has created what appears to be a horse, except that it has a few too many legs, a creepy tongue drooling out of its face, and horns. So it's actually not like a horse at all. Somehow it's both angular and blobby at the same time. Ah, the dualities of Art.

"I thought we were supposed to be making these marketable," Zane says with a tilt of his head.

"This is marketable!" Kai protests. "Kids are like, bonkers for dragons."

Ah, so that's what the blob is, Jay thinks. "Bonkers?" he snickers aloud. "What are you, seventy? Did you try cuckoo too? What about nutty?"

"Bananas," Lloyd pipes up. "Gaga. Buggy."

"Okay, okay, we get it," Kai grumbles. "You like to talk."

"That wasn't my point at all," Jay says, but he concedes it. He does like to talk, after all.

"Why does it have six legs?" asks Nya.

"Those are its wings," Kai sniffs.

Nya bursts out laughing, slapping her hand on her knee, eyes closed into crescents. "Hey!" Kai shouts, shoving her from her chair. "You know that drawing's not my real talent."

"Oh, we know," Cole says under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing!" Cole grins. "I'll go next." He flicks back a page or two. "So I originally wanted to do a bear, because bears are cool and they're the deadliest animal on the planet."

"I'm pretty sure you meant to say 'shark'," Nya says.

"I'm pretty sure I said what I meant to say," Cole snips back. He returns his attention to his drawing board. "But bears are too overdone in this day and age."

Jay can't even make fun of him for saying 'this day and age' like some grandma because he's too busy currently gaping at the art on Cole's board.

The character on Cole's paper is definitely not a bear.

"Bears are overdone," Cole says. "So I thought, why not make a narwhal?"

"How on earth," Jay asks faintly, "did you make the jump from bear to narwhal?"

Cole shrugs. "It made sense at the time."

"What's a narwhal?" Lloyd asks. His marker is flying a mile a minute across his sketch pad and his eyes never leave the page.

"It's a unicorn fish," Jay says, turning a disbelieving eye back to the earth ninja. Cole just grins. "A unicorn fish that no one cares about. What happened to giving me inspiration?" he demands. "You've just killed any ideas I might have had!"

Cole pouts.

"I, for one, think it's adorable!" Nya's come up behind Cole now and is peering at his sketch pad. Hearing her words, Cole brightens. "Does it have a name?"

"I was thinking Gnarly."

Nya nods sagely. "That's uber-rad, bro."

Bring Me to Life is playing on a psychedelic loop inside Jay's head. Wake me up inside, wails the lead vocalist, but Jay can't wake up (save me).

"Am I the only one taking this seriously?" he whines. "Guys. This is like, our legacy."

"I'm pretty sure our legacy is saving the city," Kai drawls, "not whatever these characters will be."

"Our legacy," Jay emphasizes. "Don't you realize how cool this is? How many people get to say they have their own cartoon character?"

Cole shrugs. "Exactly. That's why I'm having fun with it. Hey, do you think that Gnarly would look good with a monocle?"

"I'm taking it seriously," Lloyd says. "Look at mine."

"Gnarly would look absolutely dapper in a monocle, how could you even ask that."

"How big is he?" asks Zane. "That would have to be one big piece of glass."

"Hey, guys."

"Ooh, you should give him a mohawk."

"A mohawk? He's a fish! Fish don't have hair!"

"I'm pretty sure it's a mammal, actually."

An explosion rockets the left side of the room. Jay startles so badly he almost falls out of his chair. His eyes dart around for the threat, only to lock eyes with a smirking Lloyd. A smirking Lloyd who still has his fist raised, faint wisps of smoke rising from his fingers.

Jay lets out an inhuman shriek. It's a wonder that no one's come in to check on them, honestly. "Lloyd!"

"What?" Lloyd grins. "You weren't paying attention to me."

"We've raised a brat," Cole says. "An absolute menace."

Lloyd's grin intensifies. "As I was saying…"

He spins his board around with all the pomp and circumstance of a ten-year-old who learned how to act through daytime television. Somehow, despite them only having been given black sharpie markers to draw with, Lloyd has colored his character in with crayon. It's a shockingly detailed goat-creature. Its fur has been colored a mint green, and it's wearing a golden sweater with dragons crossing the sides.

It looks like it was ripped from the pages of an actual comic book.

"Woah!" Kai says, launching himself across the table and sending no less than three markers flying as he goes in for a closer look. "That's awesome, Lloyd!" He beams at the younger ninja. "What is it?"

Nya scoffs. "Obviously it's an alpaca, you dolt."

"It's a yak," Cole says.

Jay makes a disagreeing noise. "No, I'm pretty sure it's a goat."

"Guys," Lloyd says, looking extremely disappointed in all of them, "it's a llama."

They sit in silence for a moment.

"Ooh," Jay says. "Alright. That makes a bit more sense."

"Is it my turn?" Zane asks. Unlike some other members whose names shall not be mentioned, he waits until their attention is on him before starting. "I put a lot of thought into this character."

He turns around his paper. Jay chokes on his water. Tears stream from his eyes and he's coughing, but when he wipes them away the picture stays the same.

In the middle of the page, in the glorious high definition only a nindroid could hope to achieve, is a shark that looks like it came right out of some Super Bowl halftime slot. Its eyes are vacant. Its mouth is open in an agonized scream. It's standing in a starfish pose, legs in lieu of a tail.

"My character is a shark," Zane says, as if it needed any explanation.

Everyone stops and looks at him. Zane's the picture of earnestness, eyes wide and unguarded. At this exact moment, he looks like a five-year-old presenting some horrific drawing to its mother. As the silence stretches on, his face falls. "Is it not on target enough? I know we were supposed to be making something related to our element, but there are not that many snow creatures."

The group glances at each other, expressions veering towards the panicked side. By some unspoken agreement, they all reach the same conclusion.

"Oh, no!" says Nya. "We were all just surprised by how good you draw."

"It's a great shark, Zane," Cole says, tone a bit forced. The expression in his eyes doesn't match the grin on his face.

"Yeah," Jay says lamely. "I like how- how blue it is."

Zane beams.

"It looks like you're well on your way!" says a new voice. It's the head artist, coming back into the room. She looks around approvingly at the studio of chaos. "Well done. I knew I heard the sounds of productivity in here."

Apparently productivity sounds like random explosions and screaming now. That's- honestly not that far off the mark, considering that Jay's a literal ninja for his job.

"The next step, if you haven't already," says the artist, "will be coming up with names." Cole high-fives Nya. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you again!"

The room descends into voices once again as she leaves.

"I need a cool name for my dragon," Kai says immediately. "There's got to be a way to combine my name with it, right?"

"Kragon," Cole suggests. "Drakai."

Kai wrinkles his nose. "Kragon? Like that weirdo from the LEGO line?"

"No, you're thinking of Cragger," Lloyd says. "Kragon is that magical crystal thing Jedi use."

Jay rolls his eyes. "No, that's a kyber. Didn't I raise you better than this? Kragon is that website that people sell stuff on."

"No, that's Craigslist."

"Whatever it is," Kai interrupts, "I don't like it. So you nerds can all drop it now."

"I think I'll call mine Neela," Nya says.

Cole glances at her sketchpad and makes a noise of approval. "Neela and Gnarly," he says. "Hey! Ours could be best friends!"

"You're already coming up with backstory?" Jay protests. "I haven't even started my character!"

"Well stop whining and just make one!" Cole says, exasperated.

Jay pouts. At the other end of the table, Lloyd's cackling up a storm as he writes name after name down the side of his paper. Jay leans over to see: his favorites seem to be Llod, Llyod, and Floyd judging on the circles he's made around them.

Jay sighs and leans back in his seat. Nya's abandoned her spot beside him to go brainstorm with Cole, and Kai's still tossing ideas out to the group even though no one's listening to him.

"Ooh, what about Kaitron?"

"That just sounds like a robot," Jay complains. Inspiration cuts through the cloud of his mind like a knife. "That's it!"

The entire room stops and stares at him. Seeing that he's just stood abruptly and slammed his sketch pad against the table, Jay can't blame them. "Kai," he says, "you're a genius." As quickly as he stood he's seated again, turning over a new page and beginning to sketch.

"I'm a what?" Kai asks, somewhere in the background.

Jay outlines a triangular shape. Then a body with one big wheel instead of legs. He fills up his page with sketches, mind vomiting up ideas faster than he can put them on paper. Yes. Yes! This was exactly what he wanted!

"Everyone!" he says- practically demands their attention. He rips the top sheet off his sketchpad with a flourish. "Meet NJ, your friendly little shapeshifting robot friend! The double emphasis on friendliness means that it's full of love."

"Shapeshifting?" Lloyd asks. "Woah, that's neat!"

Jay nods, grinning. "He can turn into anything, as long as it's non-organic." He points out some sketches of NJ as a toaster, as a spy drone, as an umbrella.

"That's- actually a cool idea, Jay," Cole says. "I like it!"

"Hey!" Jay protests. "Are you telling me that all my other ideas aren't cool?"

Cole grins. "You said it first," he points out.

"Kriff!" shouts Kai. For a second Jay thinks the fire ninja is swearing, but it turns out he's talking to his dragon. "Perfect name. Done."

The head artist chooses this moment to re-enter the room. She beams when she sees all their sketchpads laid out. "Looking good, everyone! Do you all have designs now?" They nod. "Great. Well, our next step will be for each of you working with our on-location artists to better flesh out your concepts. Oh, and then backstories!" She grins. "I'll go call them in."

She leaves. Kai stares at his paper. "I hope my artist likes challenges," he finally says.

[boymeetsweevil]

Another draft because FS is taking too long

Title: two wrongs don’t make a right (so what do two douchebags and a dweeb make?)

Douche/fuck boy Jimin and Jin, weirdo!OC

Jimin waits until the girl’s tiny frame disappears down the hallway in a blur of overly familiar stained sweats before turning to stare down a very sheepish looking Jin.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it and making him resemble a cockatoo.

“Dude, relax. I get it, you have a rep to maintain. Everyone ventures outside their type for a first time.”

Jin winces. He knows he’s known for being incredibly picky—only ever sleeping with 4.0 girls (the number referring to their maximum dress size and minimum GPA). Someone even did a story on it in the Hot Takes section of the school magazine. He’s still not sure if it’s a moment he should proud of.

“About that…” he trails off and tugs nervously at the throw blanket he hastily clothed himself with when Jimin burst into their shared living room only to catch him in a rather compromising position. With that girl of all people.

“What?”

“Itsnotthefirsttimeanditwontbethelast”

Jimin blinks slowly, trying to process the flurry of words and Jin’s ashamed tone. When what Jin said finally hits him, he grins darkly.

“Man, c’mon. Don’t joke like that about her, its not nice.”

“Jimin, I’m—,” Jin looks around the hallway suspiciously before dragging Jimin into the dorm and slamming the door shut. “I’m being serious, okay?” Jimin’s jaw drops and he begins to sputter.

“But…why her?”

The first time Jimin encountered you was during a particularly late night in the stacks of the library last semester. The year was starting off hard and he was getting his ass kicked in one particular introductory psych class.

At around 1 in the morning, he had one more problem to finish on his take-home exam but was desperately stuck. He remembered seeing someone who he recognized from class sitting in the economics section. He thought it was odd initially. Usually no one sat there because the smell from the librarians’ bathroom often carried over. And no one wanted to study to the smell of coffee shits.

Taking a break, he grabbed his laptop and wandered around the stacks to find the classmate. When he found you, you were in the process of packing up, struggling to get your earphones into the headphone jack of your phone while also carrying a stack of periodicals and a burger from the campus grill, which happened to be leaking ketchup onto your already dingy tracksuit. He approached you carefully.

“Hey, you’re in Professor Kang’s class, right?”

“Huh?”

His voice startled you and you lost your precarious grip on your stuff. The poorly wrapped burger fell to the floor and bled a little onto your white converse. The periodicals fluttered down around your feet.

“Shit, sorry. Lemme help you,” he offered as he put his laptop down. You gasped from your spot already crouched on the ground.

“No, please, it’s really okay. Please, I’m fine, I don’t need—“

But he already had one printout from the stack in his hand and automatically turned it over. When Jimin looks back on the memory, he thinks that this may have been the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life.

He would later find out after a nervous google search that the paper in his hand, and probably 80 percent of the papers on the ground, were called fursonas. While a handful might have been somewhat decent, most of them were of overly buff rabbits with bubble butts raised for the viewer or tigers fisting weeping, veiny dicks over pastel backgrounds. The one he held was of a duck, or something, with a weight lifter’s body with an obscene expression on its face while tentacles swarmed it from all angles. The implications of what might be happening in the picture made Jimin’s head hurt.

“Oh my god, what the fuck. What the fuck,” he whispered. He was so stunned that he let you rip the page from his hand.

“It’s called fur-centric hentai and its art,” you hissed. The line sounded mechanical and well-practiced if you asked Jimin. He watched you gather the rest of your belongings quickly, burger included, before leaving him crouched in the economics stacks.

Jin snaps his fingers in front of Jimin’s zoned out face only to have him be brought back to reality with a look of slight disgust.

“What’s your problem, fix your face,” Jin snapped.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you chose her, of all people. You remember that story I told you about the Econ stacks. I was so scarred, I got a C on that test.”

“Pretty sure you got a C because you didn’t realize there was a second page of the homework.”

“Well, if she hadn’t thrown her weird animal dicks all over the place, I would have realized there was a back and finished the assignment”

Jin sniffs and drops the blanket he was wearing, before walking over to the kitchen to get a drink, naked as the day he was born. Jimin follows on autopilot.

“Maybe you should stop trying to yuck my yum,”Jin says over his shoulder.

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that. I’m just saying, man. She’s weird. And gross. And more importantly not.Your. Type.” He enunciates each word with a poke to Jin’s bare back while he gets them some beers.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? That’s why I keep it discrete. Why do you think I told you not to come home every Tuesday and Thursday at until after 8:30?”

“You said you had lab.”

“How the hell could I do a lab in our apartment?”

“It…It could happen.”

“I’m a poetry major,” Jin pinches the bridge of his nose at his roommate’s stupidity, “Damnit Jimin.”

Jimin purses his lips when he realizes he might be even dumber than he thought.

“Wait a second, you’ve had lab,” he makes giant air quote gestures, “for, what, 2 months now? You’ve just been fucking her this whole time?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jin takes another swig from his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says. The matter of fact air of his response makes something glitch in Jimin’s brain.

“What the hell, dude? That’s a lot of repeat service. Does she have something on you? Is that why you’re doing this? Did you break an expensive-ass vase or something?” Jimin stops to think, his mind running wild with possibilities. “Holy shit, are you being pimped out?”

“No. God, would you just shut up?” Jin sighs quietly. “I’m sleeping with her so much because she’s the best I’ve ever had.”

Jimin takes a step back at the defeated sincerity in Jin’s tone.

“How? What about that time with that other girl--what was her name?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair trying to remember any name of one of many the girls Jin has had a fling with. “Oh! Irene or something? What about her?”

“I mean, Irene was fine. She gave pretty good head. But last Thursday I thought I came harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life.”

“You ‘thought’?”

Jin looks up wistfully somewhere behind Jimin’s head at the memory. “Well then she came over the following Tuesday and rocked my shit,” he smirks. “And then that was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”

“So she gives good head. Who cares? There’s plenty of girls on campus who give good head and also don’t draw furry porn for a living and wash their damn sweatpants.”

“You don’t understand, dude. It’s not just the head. It’s the head, and the handjobs, and the pussy. It’s everything.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “The pussy is better than the handjobs?” He has to try hard not to look impressed. Meanwhile Jin is smilng, almost relieved now that the secret is out and he can talk openly about the mindblowing sex he’d been having.

“The first time she jerked me off, I passed out immediately after I came and woke up late to the class the next afternoon.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but motions with a hand for Jin to continue.

“The first time she blew me I couldn’t even walk afterward.”

“Wait...was that the day you told me you thought you had a sprained ankle? The one that healed after 24 hours?”

“Yep.”

The smug tone and the second stupid lie make Jimin want to rip his hair out. “Why do you lie so much,” he whispered, pain in his voice.

“I wasn’t lying, I really thought I had a sprained ankle.”

“From a blowjob?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What about the, uh, the pussy,” Jimin asks after realizing the FBI probably won’t come through the doors and snipe him for talking about vagina.

“The one time she let me hit it raw, I cried.,” Jin says, absolutely beaming.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though. I think she was gonna let me do it again today.” Jin closes his eyes and smiles softly while Jimin looks on, unamused.

“So? What happened today? She underperform or something?” There’s a hint of jealousy and a lot of curiosity in his tone, but Jimin would deny it if anyone asked him.

“No, asswipe. She got spooked because you showed up when you weren’t supposed to.”

“Well, sorry for ruining your lies,” Jimin snaps, cracking open his own beer.

“You think this is a joke?” Jin shoves Jimin in the chest roughly. “We didn’t get to finish because of you. Now I have to jerk off with my own hand. That’s pathetic”

“And what were you doing before you met her? Listen to yourself, she’s making you crazy. No one is that good in bed.”

Jin stomps over to the couch and settles down before turning and looking at Jimin over the backboard.

“You know what? You go and sleep with her 3--no--4 times. And if she doesn’t completely fry your brain, I’ll pay for any and all of your takeout for the next month. But If she does, you gotta switch mattresses with me and not come by the dorm until after 10 on Tuesdays and Thursdays from then on.”

“Dude, gross I don’t want your sex soaked mattress. It’s the same as yours anyway. Minus the ten gallons of old jizz on it.”

“No, it’s not. You have that, like, Tempurpedic thing.”

“True,” Jimin nods thoughtfully, “But don’t you think it would be weird if the roommate of the guy she was fucking started trying to get in her pants? Also, I could just lie and say she didn’t do it for me. Then you’d be forced to pay for my food and—Hold on. If she’s so good, why are you so willing to pawn her off to me?”

“Why do you ask so many stupid questions? First of all, she’s not mine just because I’m sleeping with her. I’m just telling you to go see if she’ll let you. I mean, there’s no guarantee. She barely even gave me a shot.”

“She barely gave you a shot? But you’re, like, the campus prince”, more air quotes, “How did this even happen?”

“Well, to make a long story short, we were both high at her sorority and I’d heard rumors about her from Wonho, so I went to…talk to her in her room.”

“Wonho is Wonho, though. He’d fuck anyone if the weed was good.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, my friend. He has a diverse and sophisticated palate. He knows what he’s talking about when it comes to weed and sex. Once I took him up on his suggestion and she said yes, I never looked back,” Jin says with a dreamy voice.

Jimin watches the back of Jin’s head loll on the sofa. When a soft sigh emerges from where the older man is sitting, Jimin recoils and runs out of the kitchen, away from the couch.

“Are you jerking off right now? Dude. Not cool.”

“Get the fuck out, then. It’s Thursday, which means I’m getting off by 7:30pm and I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s here when it happens.”

“Fine,” Jimin huffs and reluctantly stuffs his feet back into his sneakers where they lie by the door. “I hope your dick chafes.”

Jin purposefully releases another, louder moan and Jimin runs out of the apartment.

“I’ll have an order of the half crispy, half spicy and a large coke. Thanks,” Jimin says to the clerk at the grill before checking his phone for the 8th time in the hour.

8:01 Jimin - Are you done yet?

             (8:10 read by Jin)

8:11 Jin - yeah but round two starts soon so

8:11 Jin - *middle finger emoji*

Jimin quickly shuts down his messenger app and opens up Flappy Bird while he sits at a table and waits for his order number to be called.

“Stupid asshole and his stupid dick, kicking me out of the stupid apartment. Fuck you, dickhead,” Jimin mutters to himself.

“What did you just say?” 

Jimin’s head whips up at the infantile voice coming from the seat across from him. Jeon Jungkook is sitting at his table, eating a veggie burger. Who the hell orders a veggie burger from a chicken place?

“Were you talking to me,” Jungkook asks again, pushing his bulky glasses up with a finger.

“Jeon, why would I be talking to you? A better question is why the hell are you talking to me?

[mollymaymaukme]

Mollymauk x Reader: Run Into My Arms, Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

There is five minutes of blissful silence. Your gaze is constantly darting over the terrain behind the wagon. Then Jester seems to grow bored of her notebook, or more likely she found something more interesting. “So how long have those bad men imprisoned you?”

You are overly aware of many eyes and certainly all ears turning towards you. Even the cat perks up, ears twisting in your direction. “Um. . .I don’t really know. I was captured from my home when I was twelve. . .” You shift uncomfortably “I had no way to gauge time, and being twelve, I didn’t ever note the year. And if I ever did know it, my younger self didn’t think to remember it” Your voice had grown quiet and looking up you are met with pitying and grim looks. “I think I might be nineteen? Or maybe a few years into my twenties?”

“How did you get out? After all that time?” Beau asks. She always seemed to stare at you with an air of suspicion. But now her voice was softer. Like she was at least attempting to be kind and empathetic.

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth as you keep quiet for a moment “When I, read people they--” you steady yourself before continuing “They know what I learn and its usually not a great experience for them. If they are unwilling the experience can even knock them unconscious through great pain. . .” You clear your throat “And many different people came in and out of possession of me and the fortress, so I took advantage of a boy who was sent to give me food. He didn’t know what I was capable of. And then I broke through a window and started running and I didn’t stop”

The cat that had been sitting on Molly’s lap hops off of him and pads over to you. It rubs its head against your arm before crawling up underneath it to sit in your lap. You can’t help but smile at the animal and begin to gently pet it. The cat soon begins purring and rolls onto its back. “That's Frumpkin” Molly offers. “He’s Caleb’s familiar” He jerks a thumb towards the form of the human beside him.

“Frumpkin. . .” You murmur, the cats purring increasing tenfold. A soft chuckle escapes you “I get it. Cause you’re like a furry pumpkin.” You coo to the feline scratching under his chin.

Jester gasps “Oh my gods! You’re totally right!” The blue tiefling stares at you, jaw agape “I can’t believe the rest of us didn’t figure that out.”

You stifle another small chuckle at her flabbergasted expression. You look over to the owner of said furry pumpkin and accidently meet Molly’s gaze once again. The urge to quickly look away overtakes you once again but is overridden by the expression on his face. His lips are slightly parted, the slightest glimpse of his canines visible, and his eyes are widened. Almost in surprise, or maybe awe, and it is hard to tell but some of the lavender on his cheeks has deepened. After a few seconds to long you wrench your gaze away and focus on Frumpkin again.

The group seems to have forgotten the previous conversation or have laid the sensitive subject to rest. Either way you are grateful when none of them question you further.

Jester had scooted closer to you and was sharing the pictures in her sketchbook. It seemed as though each sketch was connected to a point in time of the groups travels and she gladly explains the stories when you prompt. The group, The Mighty Nein as they call themselves, chimes in whenever Jester gets ahead of herself or exaggerates their feats.

You all pass a peaceful, and rather fun, couple hours this way. Eventually Caleb also wakes and slowly sits up with a quiet yawn. He eyes you, but says nothing and does not call his cat from your side. You’re not quite sure, but something tells you that he might be the reason that Frumpkin has stayed in your lap and not moved on to another more familiar one of the group.

When the sun is nearing its peak Fjord turns to alert the rest of the wagon “We’ve got at least five people on horseback coming our way.”

Your shoulders straighten as your muscles tense and body freezes. Molly is the first to notice your state. “Y/n, are the men searching for you likely to be on horseback?” He question gently but urgently.

It takes effort to overcome the fear freezing you but you manage to nod. You can practically feel the terror radiating from you. Your traveling companions are also tensing. “Crawl over he quickly, Ja. We can hide you beneath the bed rolls.” Caleb urges. He begins to move the bedrolls and Molly moves to help. “No dummkopf” Caleb hisses quietly “They can see you and Beau. It would be to suspicious for you to suddenly duck down” Molly stiffly settles back into his position leaning against the sideboards but his tail flicks up and down in clear agitation.

Frumpkin has already fled from your lap as you grab your skirts so as to not fall as you quickly crawl to Caleb. “Hiding me will not truly hide me from them. There are many who wield magic in their ranks” You whisper in panic.

Caleb gently pushes you to lie on your side in a fetal position as he begins to stack the bedrolls around and on top of you. “Do not worry. I shall hide you from that to.” Once you are completely covered you hear him murmur something in a language unknown to you. The familiar feeling of magic settles like a blanket over you.

Something leans onto the pile, maybe Caleb but you can’t really be sure, your focus shifting to the increasing sound of horse hooves. Suddenly Jester laughs loudly “Oh, silly kitty! My pencil is not for you.”

Molly also speaks “don’t let him chew on it. You might never get it back.” The horses are almost even with the cart. You seal your hands over your mouth to quiet your breath.

“Good morrow!” you hear a familiar voice call out from beside the wagon. The shift of horses hooves in the dirt alert you that they’ve turned the horses around and are now riding right next to the wagon.

“Same to you” You hear Fjord’s deep voice answer.

“Aye, you and your lot haven’t happened to see a girl wandering around have you?” The voice sends ice into your veins and you must clench your muscles to keep yourself from trembling.

“No. . .She in some kind of trouble?” Fjord questions amiably, a pause, and then “You seem to be packing some heavy artillery. Is she dangerous by any chance?”

The laughter erupting from beside the wagon is obviously fake. “You could say that friend. She’s my daughter, we had an argument and she fled into the forest. I’m afraid she’s gotten lost or has stumbled upon some of the less pleasant creatures that live in the shadows.”

“I’m sorry for your situation. We can keep an eye out for her. If we stumble upon your daughter we’ll make sure she gets home safe and sound.” Fjord’s voice sounds nothing but sympathetic and honest.

“That's much appreciated friend. If you do happen upon her we live within the walls of the fortified manor in the North part of the forest. Just follow the road to the right when it forks a few miles up in the direction your traveling and you’ll reach it eventually.”

“Will do, Mr. . .?”

The man who currently owned you answers in a tone that leaves no doubt in your mind that his lips are probably tilted upwards in that sadistic smirk “Bolbec. Gavin Bolbec. Pleased to meet you. . .?”

“Oh, forgive me for delaying introductions, I’m Asher Sepent. This is my daughter Catrain and these are our friends. We were just over in Rahm for the festival and were on our way back home.”

“Where’s that?” Oh you hated that voice. It grated on your nerves and stirred terror in your chest.

“Over in Gnewth.”

“That’s a long week on the road friend.”

“Aye. But their Greengrass festival is well worth it. You should attend next year.”

“I shall consider it friend. Safe travels.”

“Same to you. Good luck on your search, I hope she gets home safe.” Gods, Fjord sounded so sincere. And maybe he was, none of the group knew for certain on whether these were the men looking for you or not.

The protesting neighs and shuffle of hooves tells you that the horses have yet again turned and are back on their original course. After a few minutes you hear Caleb mumble right above you, so he must have been leaning on the pile after all, “Stay put for just a while longer. We shall let you know when their out of sight.”

You do not answer. Fear still controlling your body and will. Lay still, you could do that. It is impossible to tell how long you wait in silence. Occasionally you hear the laughter of Jester as she plays with Frumpkin and the trivial arguments of the rest of the party. But you can’t make out any actual words over the pounding of blood in your ears. Eventually they all settle into a tense silence, most likely out of earshot of the riders then. Maybe out of sight soon. It feels as though its hours before you feel the weight on the bedrolls lessen and the fabric shift. “So were those the guys or-” Beau begins to question but is cut short as you sit up. Your trembling form and tear stained cheeks are more than enough to answer the question.

[nutella0mutt]

Out for Themselves- fantasy shklance- snippet #1

The troupe stops in front of a large mossy cave. It’s predictably dark inside, and the cold air wafting from it carries a musty stench with a tang of animal smell. On the ground by their feet are patches of fur and a few dusty bones. All signs point to the cave being uninhabited. Frankly, the whole thing is suspicious.

“This thing is suspicious as hell,” Keith says pointedly.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing, squirt,” Shiro says, slapping Keith on the shoulder.

Lance smirks. At least his companions aren’t stupid.

“I think we should go in,” Keith says.

“Yup, I agree,” replies Shiro.

Lance exhales harshly. Nevermind. His companions are stupid as hell.

“Why the fuck would we go in?! There is definitely something big and nasty and powerful living in there.”

Keith turns to look at Lance over his shoulder. “Well, anything that strong should be defeated. Also, to prove that we can.”

The hand on Keith’s shoulder pulls him in for a noogie, and as Keith squirms, Shiro chuckles. “It could also have some cool shit. We got to see about getting this kid some weapons. Looks like a good place to start.”

Lance sighs as Shiro leads Keith through the ominous, empty opening. He summons a ball of light with a flick, and it follows over his shoulder, illuminating the area around them.

The rest of the cave follows just like the front. Mossy, stale, dusty. Lance is sure by now that it’s an illusion or glamor, but when he reaches out with his magic to identify the trick, it falls just out of reach. He can’t get a pinpoint on what exactly is causing the effect. Lance likes to think of himself as a strong magician. His identifying magic only fails him on two occasions. One, when the magic he’s trying to label is too strong. And two, when there’s nothing there to find.

Frustrated, Lance tries again and again. Keith doesn’t notice, but Shiro, who always seems to be more intune with the arcane, turns to give Lance a questioning look.

“You’re putting out a lot of magical energy. Doing okay back there?”

Lance huffs, then gives up trying to pinpoint the magic. It might be nothing at all except a normal fucking, yet creepy, cave. No point in wasting his magic any more. He tries to change the subject.

“So, what do you guys think used to live in here?”

“An ogre,” Shiro says immediately.

“Hmm, not enough human remains. I’m thinking a cyclops. What about you, Keith?”

“A bear.”

Shiro tries not to trip over a dusty femur, while Lance freezes in shock. The two shout out nearly simultaneously.

"A fucking what?!”

“Bear? Seriously?!”

Keith doesn’t respond, continuing through the cave at a brisk pace.

“It’s getting colder and wetter. I think we’re heading downward.” He starts jogging ahead, disappearing around a curve, and Shiro and Lance scramble to catch up.

“Wait, Keith! Hold on!”

“Wait up for us! Keith!”

They round the curve, but the boy is gone. Just the chilly air and moist walls.

Shiro stamps the group. “Goddamn that kid is fast!”

A rumble shakes the walls, and a fierce growl rings out from the direction Keith most likely went.

“Fuck!” Shiro says with feeling, and Lance can’t help but echo the thought. If something happened to Keith now… after they had finally been reunited again... Lance didn’t think he could bare it. It had been hard enough abandoning him the first time in that inn. Keith had been sickly. He was weak and frail, and although he had made a little progress throughout the night, it wasn’t enough to justify moving him. Bringing him along would have been a death sentence. The cold sensation Lance has come to associate with fear shoots down his veins. Ahead of him, he sees Shiro give a shudder. They’ve got to get to him, and they’ll make it too late at their current speed.

Making a quick decision, Lance lunges, grabs the back of Shiro’s armor, and yanks back. He closes his eyes, zeros in on Keith’s energy and- there!

Lance has a split second to confirm that yes, Keith is alive, before Shiro crashes backwards into Lance’s chest, cussing. Then he jolts forward with a groan.

“Goddamnit I hate it when you do that!” Shiro leans forward, bracing his hands on his knees, and gags.

Lance races towards Keith. And stops when he sees the huge beast in front of the boy. Shit! So that’s why he couldn’t identify the glamor!

Shiro straightens up. Then he chuckles. Lance and Keith both turn to give him a befuddled look. There’s nothing funny about this...thing in front of them.

“It looks like we were all right! An ogrish cyclops bear. That thing is mother fucking hideous.”

Lance turns back to the beast and squints. He can see Keith tilting his head like a puppy.

“I guess I can see it. It’s missing one eye.”

“I’ve never seen a furry ogre, though,” Lance ponders. “I wonder what happened to it?”

“Damn we should do it a favor and just end it now,” the knight growls.

Keith points excitedly to the pile of loot behind the creature. “Look! It’s got treasure! There might be something good here.”

Shiro unsheathes his greatsword from his back. He means business, and Lance is grateful. They will need all the help they can get. Lance summons his staff and hollars to Keith.

“Keith! Get back here and let us handle it!”

For once, the kid listens, and dodges back as the… ogre bear smashes a meaty fist downward. He misses Keith by a mile, but the impact against the cave floor angers the beast, and it howls in agony, angry. It lumbers forth, aiming for Lance’s magic ball of light, but Shiro deftly steps in front.

“Eyes on me, baddie. I’ll be your opponent.” He swings the huge sword with effortless precision, nicking the defenseless spots on the ankles and thighs. Even from the back of the fight, Lance can see how thick the skin on this creature is. The best Lance can hope to do is stun or freeze the creature long enough for Shiro to reach the vulnerable parts of its face. Lance concentrates, summons forth an icy bold of electric frost, because Lance does nothing by halves, and sends it right towards the creature’s face. The creature howls and its wails of agony do nothing for Lance, and he is pleased to note that Keith also has a hardened look on his face. Good. If he were to begin feeling remorse for their enemies, he wouldn’t last long. The ogre bear swings about blindly, its one good eye closed and frosted over. It is definitely part orc, for it enters a berserker mode, drawing power from the pain, anger, and rage and swinging around with more violence than before. It crashes into the walls and its fists pummel the ceiling, loosening huge boulders that crash to the ground and shatter upon impact. The three men have to jump and dodge to avoid the falling rocks.

“Shiro! Keith! To me! The best we can do now is hope it kills itself at this point.” Lance swings his arm in an arc, and a strong barrier springs up around him. Shiro reaches him first, skidding behind him and panting at the exertion.

Lance keeps his eyes on the rampaging beast, but hollars over his shoulder. “Where’s the boy?”

Shiro looks up, shocked. “I thought he was here with you!”

A gasp pulls their attention, and both men turn to see Keith cornered at the feet of the angry ogre bear. He’s lost his footing and is trying to pick himself up off the ground. The frost has melted from the monster’s remaining eye, and it’s angry, bloodshot gaze is leveled right at Keith. It has its clasped fists heaving up over its head. It’s preparing for a fatal downstrike. The kid has to move now.

“Keith! Move!”

The fists speed downward just as Keith attempts to dodge the hit. The cave floor cracks under the weight of the smash, and pebbles and dust fly up into the air.

“KEITH!”

More in this au: (snippets are out of order) Intro | #1: cave | #2: smut | #3: meet the dragon | #4: flying | #5: Keith’s plan | THE FIC

[lillaxtrigger]

Young hope: Chapter 3

“And how did she go blind again?” Cayenne asks. Both her and Kingsley stared down a Chloe in her bed, who was wearing a blindfold. “Um...Well, she stared darting toward Mom and Dad’s room, when she kicked down the door and saw...Well...she saw them...Uh-” Kingsley tried to explain. “I saw them fucking!” Chloe spurted out. Cayenne drew in air through her teeth and said: “Damn. That sucks. She can’t see at all?”. “Nope. Cornea’s are completely burnt. Too much stimulation at once.”. “Guys. I can’t go blind. I’m too young to go blind now. I have my whole life ahead of me. How I am I going to enjoy it if I can’t even see?”. Cayenne thought to herself for a moment and said: “Hey, I got something. My mom once fixed my aunts eyes with her laser vision. Maybe if I can-”. Chloe stopped her short and said: “Cayenne, listen to me. You are awesome and can kick ass. But I don’t think you can help me there. You have as much grace and precision as a hyped up little kid on the piano. I don’t want my eyes to be melted out of my skull.”. Kingsley took a moment to think and said: “Maybe dad and I can build something that can restore your eyesight. Of course, I don’t know how long that might take. It could take weeks or even months before we could even come up with a prototype and-”. “That’s way too long. Ryu is gonna be at the mall tomorrow and I don’t want Opal out there taking him from me while I’m stuck here in bed. I might know somebody who can help. Her names Serena. She’s a potions brewer that lives on the other side of town. The address is 1134 haunt way. I need one of you to get a potion from her that can restore my eyesight. Look for a house that surrounded by flowers.”. “I’ll go. I can get there faster.” Cayenne said. Cayenne flew through the air, making her way through the city. She made it to the other side of town, where she descended down to the ground to get a closer look. The girl floated above an intersection and said: “What was the address? 1134 haunt way or some shit like that?”. She looks over to the right and sees a house surrounded by trees and flowers. Cayenne floated down made her way through the walk way, passing through a front yard full of trees and flowers. “Damn, these people go all out with the gardening.”. She approached the door and knocked. A young teenage girl with stripes of light and medium brown hair and a dark lavender dress answered the door. “Um, Hey. I heard that there was some kind of potion shop here. Is Serena home?”. “I’m Serena, yes.”. “Hold the fucking phone. You’re Serena? I though you’d be some kind of old bag near her deathbed. You don’t even look like your past 20 yet.”. “Everybody gets that impression their first time. Come on in.”. Cayenne went inside, seeing the interior of the house fitted with natural themed décor. “So, what kind of potion do you plan on buying today? Healing potion, transforming potion, love potion?”. “You sell love potions?” Cayenne questioned. “Yup, their one my most popular items. A big hit with teenage girls. Would you like a sample?”. “Eh no. Not really into that romantic crap.”. “Well if were being honest here, neither am I.”. Cayenne smiles and says, “Neat.”. Both of them start heading downstairs, where Cayenne saw tables of potions bottles and shelves full of books. A big cauldron sat comfortably in the middle of the room. “Anyway, I’m not here for myself. I’m just picking something up for Chloe.”. “Chloe? She’s one of my best paying customers. We even share lunch together sometimes. She usually comes here personally. Wonder why she couldn’t come here herself” Serena says. “She gone blind.”. “Oh...Well, I hope she’s doing okay.”. “She said that you might have a potion that can restore her eyesight. That true?”. “Hmm. I...I suppose I might have something. Give me a minute.”. Serena walked over to one of the shelves and pulled out a musty old book. She flipped through the contest with her finger saying: “Hmm...flight brew, no. Invisibility potion, no. Laser eyes concoction, close. Ah ha, here it is! The ocular remedy. Originally crafted by the Italian witch Aradia, this concoction is said to heal and improve eyesight, making it far greater than ever before.”. “Cool, cool. How long til it’ll be finished?”. “It shouldn’t take too long, provide I have enough ingredients on hand for-...Oh...Oh no.”. “What?” Cayenne said suspiciously. “Well, it seems that one of the ingredients is rather very rare.”. “And I don’t imagine you have it on you, huh?”. “Nnn, no. It’s a rare form of crystal called Aramonius. It’s quite valuable.” Serena turns the book towards Cayenne and shows her a red crystal in the shape of a flower. “I’m afraid without it, Chloe will remain blinded to the world. I’m sorry.”. Cayenne walked down the street from the house, finding her way back to the Spicer mansion. The setting sun dips down in the horizon as she treks back. “God dammit! Of course the ingredients for a potion to cure the blind would be rare. Now what do I do. If I go back home now, I’ll look like a dumb ass...I’ll just say she was out of stock.”. As she passed an alley, somebody said: “Psst.”. Cayenne stopped and looked around, only to hear that sound again. She backed up to the alley way. “Somebody here?”. Cayenne couldn’t see past the shadows of the alley, only being able to make out a black stiletto boot out from the darkness. “I hear you’re looking for rare kind of crystal. Aramonius it was called, right?” a womanly voice mentioned. “Who wants to know?” Cayenne asked. “I think we might be able to help each other. We obviously can’t talk here though.”. “Where do you plan on talking then?”. “Why don’t you come and find out.”. The boot into the shadows retreated into the shadows. Cayenne dashed into the alley after the mysterious figure. She picked up a discarded newspaper and using her fire breath, lit the tip to see in the dark alley. “Where the hell did she go?”. Looking around, she sees something of a black tail scurry around the corner. Cayenne sprints after, going through ally after ally, chasing the alleged figure down. Her chase led her through a door and into a dark room, where the door promptly shut as soon as she entered. “This looks like a good place, don’t you?” the voice said. Two lights came on a pierced through the dark. One of the shined on Cayenne and another across the room. The light revealed a blonde young woman in a black and fuchsia cat suit, complete with cat ears and a bell around her neck. “Whoa! You going to BDSM or furry convention? Probably both from the looks of it.” Cayenne said. “Charming. Like I said, you want to find the Aramonius crystal, right?”. “...Maybe...What’s it to you?”. “I happen to know where one is lying. The problem is that it’s too well guarded for me to just simply take. I can’t do it alone.”. “Why go to me then? What’s your gain?”. “Are those really the questions you want to ask?”. “Can I least get a name?”. “It’s Alisha. Now do want to help me or not?”. “Where’s this gem at?”. “In China.”. “Damn. Other side of the world, huh? Okay, gimme a second and I’ll fly us their in no time.”. “I’m afraid that not gonna be an option. If the Chinese government catches us flying in restricted air space, we could both wind up dead. I have a private airlines that I commonly use for stealth operations we can take.”. “A stealth plane? Who the hell just has that on hand?” Cayenne remarks. The entire room lights up. “Follow me.”. Cayenne follows Alisha all the way to the roof of the building. The only thing she could see was the setting sun in the horizon shining on the building. “Alright, where the hell is this damn plane?” Cayenne said as she floated ahead. She suddenly bumped into something. The girl put her hand and was touching something that seemed invisible. It felt like cold metal. “The fuck?”. She looks over to Alisha as she pulls out a remote and pushed a button. A set of stairs descends out of nowhere, revealing the inside of a cockpit. “Holy shit.”. As Cayenne walks inside the cockpit, she sees how the interior was first class. Shag carpeting, leather seats, plasma TV, and personal bar. “Okay, fess up. You’re some kind of spy, aren’t you?” Cayenne asks as she sits down. Alisha sits in her seat and says: “Something like that.”. The plane takes off, Cayenne stares out the window as it leaves the city, the suburbs, and then the county as the sun sets. “Now, if you want to do this, I need you to not ask any questions from here on out, got it?” Alisha mentions. “Geez, you’re really into this mysterious shit, ain’t ya? You even gonna give me the plan”. The cat girl gives a little smile. “The Aramonius crystal is being held in a monk temple on the outskirts of Hong Kong. The crystal is being held right in the center of the temple. The place is crawling with trained monk guards, both inside and out. With the outside, there’s not really any kind of entry point, so we need to create a distraction from the outside. After we neter through the roof, we are going to sneak through the temple. The crystal might still have some security on it, even with what might be going on outside. Once we get far enough in, you are going to make yourself known and draw the security towards you. While you cause the distraction, I’ll come in and swipe the crystal right from under them. After I give the single, you bail and we make our escape.”. “Hm. Neat plan. How do I know you won’t leave me to die and just make of with the crystal?” Cayenne asks. “Ah ah. No questions. Remember? Just trust me.”. “Gee, that’s fucking comforting. Can you at least tell me how long this plane ride gonna take?”. “Oh it shouldn’t take that long. We’ll be there before you know it. Now come to the back, you need to change.”. “Change?”. “We are robbing a landmark monk temple. Don’t want anybody to recognize you after all this is over, right?”. “This coming from somebody dressed in bondage cat cosplay.”. Alisha took Cayenne to the back of the plane, where the cat girl gave her something she could wear. When she came out from the changing room, Alisha saw her wearing a black sweatshirt and sweatpants. “Nice. Black looks good on you.” she said while handing Cayenne a ski mask with a hole cut in the top. “Meh, more into salmon pink really.” While putting on the mask and bringing her hair through the hole, Alisha asked: “Do you feel ready?”. “Bitch, I came out the womb ready.”. Looking into the front of the plane through the cockpit window, we see a glowing green hand snap it’s fingers. The intercom to the plane came on and said: “This is your captain speaking, we’ve just entered China and shall be above our destination in approximately 10 minutes.”. “Bullshit! We’ve only been on this plane for 10 minutes. There’s no way that we can be in-” Cayenne said as she walked towards the window. She looked outside and saw the city of Hong Kong. The tall buildings light up the cityscape below as the plane flew undetected in the night sky. “Well shit.”. She looks back at Alisha, who says to her: “Get ready. Were coming up on the target.”. The plane goes to the city outskirts, where a giant Chinese temple could be seen below. Alisha opened the cockpit door and dropped downward, with Cayenne following after her. Down below the front gate, two monk guards dressed in orange robes stand position carrying big spears. The guard on the right looks very tired and starts to lull into sleep. A pebble is thrown at the side of his head, jolting him awake. He looks turns to the guard to the left and finds him shaking his head while juggling pebbles with his other hand. The tired guard slaps his face and keeps himself awake. Alisha and Cayenne look out to the gate from behind a nearby tree. “Alright, just gimme a sec to take out both those guards and-” Cayenne said. Alisha stopped her short by saying: “Nope. Look over there.”. Cayenne looked over and saw another monk coming around the corner and towards the two guards. “So. Just take him out along with the others.”. “Not the point. They likely have 3 or 4 more of them patrolling the building. They’ll notice the guards missing.”. “Do you have any other idea’s then?” Cayenne snidely retorted. The cat girl pulled out a little ball out of her pocket and pressed the button on the top. The sound of loud rustling bushes could be heard coming from the ball. Alisha then threw the ball to the side. The three monks heard the noise in the distance and started running after it. Both girls move towards the gate, with Cayenne commenting? “Cute toy. What else you got in there?”. “If I told you that, I wouldn’t be a good spy now, would I?”. When they ran to the side of the gate, Cayenne floated up to the top of the wall. Alisha scaled the wall using her sharp golden claws at the ends of her hands. As soon as she got to the top, she said to Cayenne: “Follow me, stay in the shadows.”. Both of them circled around the temple, behind the towers in the corner, past a vegetable garden. When they made it to the other side, they saw some monks in various places, including inside the temple looking through the windows near the wall and on the ground. “We need to get to the roof, the only way we can is if you fly us over. But there are eyes everywhere. I doubt we’d be able to make it over without getting spotted.”. “Got another one of those noise balls?” Cayenne asks. “Not really. We need to think of something else.” Alisha sees her smile and says: “Got an idea?”. “Hells yeah. Wait here.”. She sneaks over to the garden and spits out a tiny fireball towards one of the vegetables. The fire starts spreading towards the other plants. Cayenne flew back to Alisha, who asked: “What’d you do?”. “3 2 1.”. She points over to where the garden was to see smoke coming from behind the wall. Most of the monks from the outside, including some inside, see the smoke and start racing towards it. “Hop on.” Cayenne says as she points to her back. As they landed, Cayenne whispered: “Okay, let me guess, we’re gonna break in by busting a hole in the roof. Is that it?”. “That’s the plan.”. “Alright, give me a second.” she said as she raised her fist in the air. Alisha showed the girl her hand and pulled out a laser pointer with a cat paw print design from her back pocket. “Is that a fucking cat laser pointer?”. The cat burglar points the laser towards the roof and starts circling one spot, seemingly with nothing happening. “So, why the hell do we have to be all sneaky like this? It’d probably be faster and way more fun just to kick the door down and bust some heads.” Cayenne asks. “Because we don’t know what kind of security measures these monks have in case anybody barges in. In situations like these, we need finesse and careful timing. They could hide the crystal somewhere we’d never find it, making this whole mission a failure.”. Cayenne groaned impatiently as Alisha was halfway done. “Hey, that’s what being a spy is about. It’s unexpected and dangerous. Who knows what might happen while we’re in here. And besides...”. After Alisha finished using her laser pointer, she lifted the part of the roof she used it on with little to no effort. “It’s all part of the fun.”. “Damn.”. Both of them dropped down just as the fire died off. As they descended down, Alisha place the part of the roof she cut off back as if it was never broken into. The cat girl lands down, but doesn’t see Cayenne around. She looks to the right and sees her near an ancient painting of a Chinese man in robes “What are you...” the feline spy said. When she approach, she saw that Cayenne drew a cock on the hand with a marker. “What the hell are you doing!?” she loudly whispered. “What?”. “You’re going to get us caught! Part of a spy’s jobs to leave no trace behind.” Alisha said as she took the painting of the wall. “If your not gonna take this seriously, then I might as well-”. She then saw a monk coming from around the corner. “Hide!”. Both her and Cayenne leaped up to the ceiling and watched as the patrol went by. The guard walked back and saw the painting was gone. He frantically looked around before running off. Both Cayenne and Alisha watched on the ceiling, with Alisha saying: “Great, now he’s going to tell the others and they’ll know we’re here. I told them that bringing you along with me was a mistake.”. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. If your that desperate for cover, why not just pin it on someone else? That’s what I do.” Cayenne said as she pulled out the marker. The monk came back with others to find that the painting was back where it was. At first everyone was confused, most of them were mad when they saw the cock that Cayenne drew. They pin the crime on the monk that showed them, to which he immediately started denying. Alisha carefully dropped the marker in the monks robe. The other monk saw the marker and pulled it out of the first guards robe. The first monk was surprised that the marker was there. He tries to defend himself, but it’s too late, the rest of them think he’s guilty and make him escort himself out. While the guard runs away crying, the others walk back to their posts. Both Cayenne and her cat burglar companion dropped down after the coast was clear. “Good save. But try to be more careful. We almost got caught.”. “Whatever.”. Both of them managed to sneak through the halls of the temple, hiding behind pillars and tapestry. After sneaking down a flight of stairs, they found themselves facing a tight corridor with one monk standing by, spear in hand. The ceiling was too low to just fly over and there was minimal room for sneaking past. “Hmm...Don’t see anywhere we can just sneak through him. Let’s just fuck him up.” Cayenne said. “Hold it.”. Alisha said. She looks over and sees a vase, some look big enough to crawl in. “I have an idea.”. The guard is looking around, minding his own business trying to keep watch, when he hears the sound of stone grinding. He looks to the side and sees a big vase at the end of the hall. The monk looks away and hears the sound again. Looking this time, he notices that the vase had slightly moved. He starts to be suspicious and slowly looks back. The guard hears the grinding once more and finds that the vase blatantly moved farther away. He throws his spear at the vase and watches as it breaks into pieces. After which, he approaches thinking he’ll find a corpse to only find the shards from the vase. He looked confused, until he felt a cold stinging sensation on the back of his neck. The monk fell down to the ground, with his neck bleeding out. Alisha steps out with her claws stained in blood. “Holy shit! Did you kill that guy!?” Cayenne exclaimed. “Yep, all part of being a spy. Of course, assassin training helps. Now keep it down, your gonna blow our cover.” the cat girl casually said as she stuffed the shards and the body in different vases. She calmly walks past Cayenne as the girl stares at the pot. They manage to make it to the first floor of the temple, only to see a wide hall filled with monks. Some training, some meditating, others pretending to meditate so they can nap. Alisha and Cayenne watched above them all. “Alright, time to liven things up down there.” Cayenne said as she was about to drop down. “Not yet.”. “Fucking! What now?”. “We need to find out where the crystal is at, then you can go nuts.”. “Sheesh. How much longer are you gonna make me wait?”. Alisha traveled along the support beams of the temple to get to the other side of the room. The door to the next room was too well seen for her to simply walk through, so she had to carved a hole in the wall and proceed through there. The cat girl finally found the Aramonius crystal. It was at the end of a hall in with monks meditating on the side and two warriors with spears guarding the crystal in front of a golden Buddhist statue. She turned back to Cayenne and gave her the okay. Cayenne drops down the hall with a mighty crash, shaking the entire temple. All of the monk wake up and see her as she says: “What’s up, assholes!? Let’s party!”. She grabs one of the warriors and throws him into his fellow monks. All of them lunge at her in response, ready to fight. Cayenne started punching them into the walls as they came at her. When she started to become overwhelmed on the ground, she took to the sky and started spewing fire everywhere. One of the warriors ran up the wall with spear in hand and leaped up at the girl. Cayenne managed to turn around in time to grabbed the spear and spin the monk away. Monks from all around started to gather began throwing weighted balls tied together with rope, otherwise known as bola’s, at the girl. She tried her best to dodge them, although eventually one of them got her, and a bunch more following. She was eventually tied up as she floated in the air, barely able to move any of her limbs apart. Most of the monks started to calm down seeing her tied up, until they saw that she was starting to pull the ropes apart. Finally, she broke free of her shackles and dived at the crowd of monks. The fighting could be heard from in the hall of the crystal and all but the two monks on guards ran out to fight. Both of the guards that stayed behind stood prepared at whatever came next. The cat burglar came from behind the golden Buddhist statue and clawed one of the guards on his neck, killing him. The other guard saw his comrade go down and lunged at Alisha, nearly stabbing her with his spear. The cat girl jumped up over head and threw butterfly knives from above. The monk blocked them with his spear and swung them back at her. Alisha spun around as she descended dodging the knives that were sent back. When she landed, the cat girl lunged at him, ready to strike. The monk blocked her attacks as she clawed at him. He then swung his spear at her, making her jump up and land right behind him. The monk was about to stab her, when he felt a sharp pain behind him. The warrior fell to the ground, with the back of his neck cut open. With that fight over with, Alisha approached the crystal flower, gazing upon its red finish. She inspected the pedestal that it was resting on, being sure that there were no traps. “This being a monk temple, they won’t have anything fancy like laser trap, but I can’t be to careful.”. She looked closer at the bottom of the crystal to see anything like pressure plates, thankfully, there was nothing of the sorts. She slowly took the crystal of off its pedestal and awaited in anticipation for something to happen. Nothing did. “Hmm. Guess it didn’t have anything.”. Just as Cayenne finished of the cannon fodder, the girl saw one monk with a white robe come in. “Just one more.” she told herself. When Cayenne took a deep breath and spewed out a ball of fire, the monk clapped his hands together. “Fú, jiè g?i w? n? de lìliàng.” the monk whispers. The fire ball was deflected by a golden hand that sprung out of nowhere, almost hitting Cayenne. After dodging the fireball, Cayenne looks back and sees something coming out from behind the monk. It was a golden figure whose head and hands were attached to nothing. Eight blocky hands sprung forth, coming out from behind one another. The perfectly round head floated above the monks own head, it’s face had rectangles for a mouth and eyes, with it’s eyes being horizontal and mouth being vertical. “Ah fuck me.” Cayenne said. The hands aimed themselves at the girl and lunged forth at her. Cayenne managed to dodge five of them, stopped one in it’s tracks with a punch, but the other three smacked her into the wall. As she regained her senses, she saw two of the hands coming together at their hilts and spin around like a saw blade, spinning it’s way towards the girl. She jumped up and watched as the hands cut through the marble floor. Turning around, she saw three more hand blades coming towards her. She managed to grab one of them and toss it into another blade. The girl fired a laser from her eyes at the monk. The monk jumped high in the air to evade the beam and the head swooped under him. He was standing on the head as it floated in the air. All the hands detached from eachother and returned back to their master. Cayenne dashed at the monk in an attempt to hit him. The head flew around and evaded her attacks as the monk simply stood and prayed. The hands tried to hit her, but Cayenne blocked them. That’s when the hands grasped her by the wrist and held her still. She tried to break free of their grip but proved fruitless. Cayenne saw more hands come towards her and tried kicking them, giving them the chance to grab her legs and hold them down. With all of her limbs held down, the only option left for her was to used her fire breath on the monk. The remaining hands blocked the flames and punched her away, the other hands letting go. The force of the attack sent her crashing through a door and into the other hall with the golden statue. She got up and saw the pedestal that the crystal was on, but no sign of Alisha, only a hole on the side of the room, “That cat bitch ditched me!” she screams. She sees the monk drop down from the hole she crashed into. She waits in anticipation to see what the monks hands might do next. The head floats high above the monk, with all eight hand circling around it. The hands start to glow as they circle, the head gathering the light in front of it. Cayenne looks down and sees the monk defenseless and dashes towards him. The head at fires its laser at the girl. She manages to catch the beam and tries to push it back, the searing light burning her hands. But the force remained too strong, so she instead moves out of the way of the beam. The beam fires again, this time Cayenne evades. The laser cuts through parts of the temple, leading outside, but instead of escaping, she dashes towards the monk. The head fires once more, this time Cayenne ducks under the beam and takes a good swing at him. As he was sent flying to the wall, the golden head and arms disappeared. When he opened his eyes, the girl disappeared. Cayenne managed to get back to Townsville late at night, walking back to Kingsley and Chloe’s residence. “Damn fucking cat bitch. Why the fuck did I think she’d be able to help me? Why the hell did I trust her? Of course I shouldn’t have trusted her? I should’ve just helped Kingsley build his damn machine. That way I wouldn’t have had to go through all that shit.” Cayenne muttered. Just as Cayenne was approaching the doorway she saw something on the welcome mat She picked up from the carpet a shiny red crystal flower. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Serena and Alisha belong to: @princesscallyie

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

May i have a Nalu, “wtf you’re not my roommate, how did you get in here? oh sHIT you’re really drunk aND NOW YOU’RE CRYING OKay okay it’s okay shhhh, you can stay here i guess??” au. Thanks and have a nice day ^_^

bless you people for having the patience of the gods to deal with me and my slow updates.

I am currently dead inside from having to deal with finals and whatevs but thank god for fanfics to keep me going.

Thanks for the request and whoever you are anon, please enjoy!

Never again.

Never. Fucking. Again.

When next Natsu sees Loke-that stupid pretty bastard-he’s gonna break his nose and strangle him with that furry coat of his.

Natsu knew he shouldn’t have agreed to the party, even in his slightly buzzed thoughts when Loke suggested it, something banged pots and pans screaming at him “NO”, but of course he didn’t listen to the crazy little voice in his head the one time it was saying something smart.

A slice of pain shot through Natsu’s head as his eyes slid open. God he was hungover, in the literal sense and like that movie trilogy with those guys because for one, he couldn’t remember shit from last night.

Two, as he sat up, cracking his back with a satisfied grunt, the place was trashed mercilessly. Like there was cake on the ceiling (who does that? He’s done weird stuff but even then, standards) and something suspiciously like vomit on a spot a few feet from him. Also he was surrounded by empty bottles of Red Stripe.

At least he found his answer to the headache.

And third, like Doug from the first Hangover movie, Loke’s ass was nowhere to be seen. He’d have to check on the roof later to make sure last night really didn’t follow the plot of that movie.

But after his post hangover breakfast. Loke can wait when a cheese omelette and toast is calling.

The journey to the kitchen was longer and harder than he ever imagined, everything was a crutch, holding Natsu up as he hobbled to his goal of a healing meal.

He clutched his chest half way there to catch some breath. His shirt was gone, lost to the events of last night. As was his shoes. And his pants. Natsu was practically naked and he still couldn’t remember a damn thing.

God he hoped none of this made it on the internet.

“OOOOoooooOOOOOoooooooooo”

What the hell was that.

“oooOOOoooOOOOoooooOOOOOOoooooooo………………”

Well either the old fridge was acting up again and decided to start screaming in the early afternoon or someone was here with him, and it didn’t sound like Loke.

Natsu knew what a hungover Loke sounded like and he never sounded this alert.  Well at least whatever it was is in the kitchen. Saves him some energy.

Sparkly red pumps attacked Natsu’s weak eyes, abandoned on the dirty tiles next to bare feet. Bare feet belonging to the woman with her head currently in the sink, groaning and maybe close to throwing up.

“Uh……..” Her head flew up, damp blonde hair sticking in clumps to her forehead. Well it looks like someone thought drowning herself was a good way to get rid of a hangover.

“You’re not Cana.” She said, voice raspy with sleep and alcohol.

“Nope. And you’re not Loke are you?”

“Oh thank god no.”Her raspy voice devolved into a fit of giggles. Cute hiccupy giggles. They sounded a little bit like alcohol.

“So i’m guessing this isn’t my apartment either.”

“Bingo.” “Cana isn’t here?” Mystery girl brushed wet hair from her eyes, propping herself up on the counter.

“I haven’t found anyone else yet so i’m guessing no.”

Natsu shouldn’t have said that. He should not have said that. If he were sober he wouldn’t have said that.

Small tears leaked from her eyes making them even redder and puffier. “You mean she left me? Cana went home without me……?” she choked up a sob and he realizes that maybe she’s a bit drunker than he probably thought.

“No wait! I just woke up!” Natsu exclaimed, trying to ease her distress.He shuffled a bit closer. “I haven’t searched the rest of the apartment, your friend might still be in here! We can go look!”

She hiccuped and let out another sob that had his semi-drunk self feeling so helpless and lost that even a few tears started to prickle at the corners of his eyes.

But Natsu held those back. Two people crying usually ended up in a never ending loop of tears. That happened once with Gajeel and he wasn’t gonna go through that again.

“You wanna maybe sit down?” Natsu suggested, “I think I got some orange juice left, you could have that and just take a breather to calm down or if you want I can get you something else to drink.”

She took a heavy breath through her nose to even out her breathing from crying.It took a few more but the tears stopped and Natsu couldn’t help a tiny sigh of relief.

“You ok now?” He asked cautiously.

“Yeah…..sorry about that, I just got a little…..overwhelmed.”

Natsu nodded. “You the emotional drunk?” “Yeah. You?”

“Calm and dead. Not a lot of stuff phases me.”

She gave a slightly sober chuckle. “Looks like we balance each other out. Must be a drunken twist of fate.”

Sh held out her hand and he grasped it with a weak shake. “I’m Lucy and well, sorry about the crying and for being in your place like this.”

He grinned. “No problem, you’re not the first hungover person i’ve dealt with. Had to knock out the first guy though. You want breakfast before we look for your friend?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.” “It ain’t, plus you can tell me about last night ‘cause i can’t remember jack shit. You like cheese omelettes?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Oh god.

That’s not what she think it is written on his chest in her handwriting, in her bright blue lipstick that she got herself on valentines.

“Hey is there something on me? You keep staring.” Natsu eyed her curiously as he shoveled the last of his meal in his mouth.

Yeah…NO! No, no no,no. You’re fine! Everything’s just fine!” Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down

“Really? ‘Cause with how you were looking at me you’d think that there was something…….Did someone draw a dick on me?”

His gaze lowered to roam over his naked chest. He looked.

And no doubt he could read the word ‘MINE’ boldly written on him and see the smeared lipstick mark a little bit further down, close to inappropriateness.

“No way….” His eyes shot back up to meet Lucy’s and, dear lord, she must’ve had some still on her lips because his face twisted into something sinister.

“Did you do this?” He asked playfully,cackling at her reddened features.

“We were both really drunk and nothing happened!”

“You sure? Because this looks a bit out -” “Yes I’m sure! Just, stop talking! Our drunk selves are different people who we don’t know and must never speak of!”

Alright, alright.” The argument was dropped but that evil smirk was still plastered on his face. He motioned for her to hand over her empty plate and glass as he moved to the sink.

Water gushed from the faucet as Natsu cleaned up, and of course he just had to close off the issue properly.

“Just for the record Lucy,” he called, “You should probably take someone out to dinner first before calling dibs on them.”

She buried her face in her hands. No way in hell was she gonna tell him about the ‘JUICY’ cheekily peering at her, partially hidden by the band of his boxers.

[gwendre-simoneau]

Chapter 4

Jennet shielded her eyes against the mid-morning sun, examining the sight by her feet. “So.”

“Yep.” Next to her, Tamlin folded his arms.

“Well.”

He scratched his neck. “Uh-huh.”

“This is the monster.”

“You got it.”

The pair stared at the corgi struggling to remove its head from a stray boot.

“It’s really not that bad,” Jennet admitted, turning to Tamlin. “Now that it’s small, I mean.”

“No, it’s not.”

They watched it in silence.

“She was still heavy,” Tamlin pointed out. “I had to run with her all the way here. Just putting that out there.”

“Running was your idea.”

“True.”

The corgi was shuffling backwards in large circles inside the empty stable they’d found, shaking its head, still dragging the boot around.

Jennet glanced at Tamlin. “Fine, help the poor thing.”

He rushed forwards and gingerly pulled the boot from the dog’s head. It shook itself off, then gave an appreciative wag of its stub of a tail. Tamlin tentatively gave it a scratch behind an ear.

“I don’t think-” Jennet started, but the corgi wagged its stub even harder, showing no signs that it had slaughtered countless livestock over the last several nights. It fell over onto its back in its excitement, and Tamlin rubbed its belly fur. “Huh, it’s pretty cute.” Jennet knelt down next to Tamlin and gave the corgi a few pats. Then she giggled. “We kidnapped the legendary beast, and now we’re giving it belly rubs.”

Tamlin laughed. “Just eleven more to go, and then we can adopt them all.”

Jennet froze. “What?”

Tamlin looked at her and pulled away from the corgi, who whined in disappointment. “Well, that’s what we’re doing next, right?” Jennet didn’t respond. “Look, it’s harmless! We can’t kill them all! Look at her little face!”

They looked at the corgi, who sneezed, startling itself to its feet.

Jennet sighed, sitting down on her heels and brushing stray pieces of hay off her pants. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to try capturing one more. The guy we saw in the hut will probably be on high alert, though, once he realizes one is missing.”

Tamlin grinned. “You hear that, buddy?” He picked the corgi’s front legs up and bent over so that the two of them were eye level. “We’re gonna get you a brother or sister!”

“Ugh, don’t phrase it like that. That’s what parents say when they’re pregnant.” Jennet patted the dog on its head.

Was this really a good idea? They still didn’t understand what was going on with the whole size-changing business, and besides, now that they’d caught one of the monsters, shouldn’t they report back to the queen? Surely the royal knights would be able to deal with this furry little menace.

Then again, if the knights had been able to take care of the problem, she and Tamlin wouldn’t have had to come in and bail them out in the first place. Hey, knights — I hope we don’t scratch your round table when we drop all of our trophies on it!

Jennet pulled herself out of her imaginary smack-talk to see Tamlin eyeing her, biting his lip as if holding back a smile.

“What?” Jennet asked with narrowed eyes.

“I’m going to name her.”

Jennet buried her face in her hands.

“Megadog.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she groaned behind her palms.

“Hey, Megadog,” Tamlin was saying in a ridiculously high-pitched voice. “Wanna play fetch? Wanna play?” He conjured a stick and threw it across the stable. “Better than chasing sheep, huh? Yeah, you mega-sized dog, you!”

Jennet peeked out from behind her fingers. The dog pounced on the stick and gnawed on it before trotting back.

“Good doggy!” Tamlin cooed. “Good mini monster! Good mini-Megadog!”

“I swear I can see your intelligence dropping by the second.”

Tamlin threw it a few more times, and on the fourth throw, the corgi ran back and dropped the stick in front of Jennet.

Dog and wizard watched her with round eyes. She couldn’t tell who looked more eager.

“Don’t hurt her feelings,” Tamlin hissed.

She gave him an incredulous look before turning her attention to the dog. Crouching low to the ground and ready to run on its stubby legs, it looked more than ever like a loaf of bread with ears. “Hi, um…” she started. “Hi, Meg.”

Tamlin looked affronted. “It’s Megadog!”

“That word is never leaving my mouth.” She picked up the stick. “Fetch?” she asked awkwardly.

The corgi yipped.

“Okay, fetch!” She lobbed it over the low dividing wall and into the next stall. Meg stared up at the spot where it had disappeared from her view, cocking her head.

Tamlin shook his head at Jennet. “You’re bad at this game.”

“Yeah, who’d have thought I’d be better at slaying monsters than playing fetch with them? I was trained for one of those two fun leisure activities.”

Tamlin fanned his hand in the air a few times, and soon the stick came rolling out and around the wall on a strong, concentrated gust of magically-manipulated air. “See, girl? That’s where it was.”

“Okay, you know what you just did there? You just fetched the stick.” Jennet smirked and leaned back against the opposite wall, adjusting her sword sheath. “Pretty sure she’s training you.”

“See, that’s cat behaviour you’re describing. Megadog is definitely not a cat.”

Meg sniffed the air, then trotted around the corner where the stick had come from.

Tamlin groaned and Jennet laughed. “Remind me who’s bad at the game again?”

“Hello.” A deep-voiced figure in a hooded cloak stood up from behind the half-wall, Meg in his arms.

The pair screamed.

Jennet recovered first, jumping up and drawing her sword. “Put the dog down,” she said slowly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her partner stand up to join her, drawing his hands together. If Meg got dropped, Tamlin would be ready to magically catch her.

The man raised a hand in submission, Meg still tucked into the crook of his other arm, and drew the hood back from his face. “I just wanted to thank you for finding my dog,” he said.

Jennet resisted the urge to exchange a glance with Tamlin. This was the guy from the hut, all right. She lowered her sword, but kept a firm grip on it.

“Your dog?” Jennet repeated. “Awesome. In that case, I have a question for you.” She pointed at the corgi, who seemed perfectly content. “Is Megadog a stupid name for her or what?”

“Or, hey, better question,” interrupted Tamlin, before the flummoxed man could answer, “why are you sending giant corgis to attack the villages?”

“Oh, so we’re opening with an interrogation?” Jennet muttered. “Okie dokie, then. Question away.” She took her eyes off the stranger for a second to glare at Tamlin.

“What?”

“I’m just saying, there goes any chance of tricking him into spilling his guts.” She spun the sword hilt in her hand. “Figuratively, at least.”

“We suck at that kind of trickery.”

Jennet forced a smile. “But he didn’t need to know that,” she sang through clenched teeth.

“Whoops. See? Proves my point.”

“If I may?” the man asked.

“Be my guest,” Jennet said, still fake-smiling as she drew a dagger from her belt with her free hand.

The stranger looked closely at each of them in turn. Jennet shifted her feet, unwilling to let her guard down.

“To answer your first question,” he said, stroking the dog’s head as she reached her nose out to sniff an empty feeding tray, “‘Megadog’ is absolutely the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

Jennet pressed her lips together. She figured that answer earned him a less painful beatdown. But only slightly less.

“As for the other question, I didn’t send them. It was… an unfortunate byproduct of the experiments.”

Tamlin’s eyes lit up and Jennet shook her head at him. There would be plenty of time to learn new magic from the bad guy when he was behind bars. Speaking of which…

Tamlin looked at her with wide eyes. “I guess we arrest him? If we’re even allowed to do that without being actual guards. I mean, he just confessed!”

“Yeah, which is a little suspicious. What kind of game are you playing?” She took a step towards the cloaked man and flashed her dagger at him.

“Game?” He chuckled and let Meg jump out of his arms and into the feeding tray. “Who has time for games?” He stepped forward and — Jennet blinked in surprise — through the stable wall as if it was made of air. “There’s just so much to do.” He raised a hand towards them, palm out.

Both Jennet and Tamlin barely had a chance to take an aggressive step forwards before a bright flash burst out of his palm. The pair were thrown backwards and Jennet felt something collide with her head, knocking her out. She only had time for one last thought:

That’s it. Good taste in dog names or not, he’s going down.

[rockinrizon]

1. Always post the rules. 2. Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you. 3. Write 11 questions of your own. 4. Tag 11 people

1) First Cartoon/Anime moment that made you cry? It’s strange, but I can’t seem to pinpoint when I had tears. I wanna say it’s an episode somehwere in Sailormoon episode.

2) Fondest video game memory? (be it  victory or simply a moment you remember that in some form or fashion changed who you were respectively.) Beating Smitty and Culex in Super Mario RPG. Those guys were ASSHOLES, but the music made up for it and it felt super satisfying beating them.

3) Something tiny and furry is in the middle of a busy road! It’s hurt!  You rush forward in a frantic desperation, barely being missed by cars, motor bikes and a suspiciously large amounts of house movers.  By the time you get there, you realize it was part of a faux fur coat some scrub lost on her way to Las Vegas with her 90 year old rich Husband. Milk Shake or Soda with your fast food combo? Soda all the way! 4) What action do people do idly (chewing gum, nail biting, snorting, etc) that just… PISS YOU OFF? Silence. I HATE it. Nothing pisses me off more then being with someone/group of people and no one’s saying ANYTHING. I mean, I should also be at fault for this, since I’m not helping with the silence, but usually, people don’t tend to care about the topics I’d like to talk about (least that’s what I feel lol)

5) The first time you outsmarted your parents, how did you feel after upon reflection? Instant regret. My mom gots a habbit of being vengeful and getting back at me. There’s also the feeling of me being too...co-operative with my parents, to the point where if I felt I did something wrong to them, I’d regret it (thankfully that isn’t much of a thing anymore)

6) You could only have one of your favorite classic cancelled cartoons or video game franchises come back exactly the way YOU’D want it…  Which one would you pick? Felix The Cat, as far as cartoon shows. I always loved that show when I was a kid.

7) Who is a kid character from a show/movie/game/book/etc you admire as an adult and why?

Ben 10, mainly because I love the adaptation from the kid and just how goofy he tends to be. The beginning episode kinda spoke to me from my younger self

8) Bottlecaps, Stamps, Pogs, Beanie Babies, Coins, Fidget Spinners or Action Figurines… which of these mostly considered “useless hobbies” would you collect just to admire?

Action figures as well as drawings from various artist

9) Whats your biggest natural disaster fear?

I would say drowning, only cause I can’t swim. Dieing by fire would suck too 10) Would you rather lose your mind at an old age but be in perfect physical condition, or stay perfectly clear mentally but have a relatively useless body that cannot carry out your wishes? OOOOOOOOOO, tough. I’m gonna go with losing my mind, but having a great body condition. Nothing would suck more then retaining that knowledge and memory only to not do anything about it....and worse, relying on others doing it for you. 11) The Devil has appeared in front of you and has offered you a deal; whatever you want, fame, fortune, skills, knowledge, love,…anything you desire, in exchange for a soul.  He offers you the opportunity to give him one beside your own…  He makes it simple, as painless as possible for you… pick a name, at random in a book of every living person on the planet.   You know whoever this is, will spend eternity burning, even if you never see it.  Do you do it? I couldn’t do it. Yes, I’ve grown to be more selfish over the years (which was different when I was younger. I was very selfless), yet I’m still not at the point of taking another innocent life, even at random.

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

1) How did you get the nickname (if you have one)

2)Favorite type of character (heroic, anti hero, jokester, evil character, etc)

3) If you could remove a character in hopes to make the game/anime/cartoon more enjoyable for you, who would it be?

4)Got Hobbies, kid?

5) If you had a choice between Pizza, Burger (with or without cheese) and chichen, which would you choose?

6) Name a enemy/boss in the game that had the stupidest difficulty curve, but was the most satisfying to beat?

7)What would you say is your most defying feature in your artwork? (3D models, traditional, and digital drawings included)

8)You’re off on adventure to save a princess from a bunch of assholes. Little did you know that by the time you get there, there’s nothing but corps. Even more scary, the princess you were suppose to save is a princess of WAR, armed with an enchanted sword and a shotgun. So, do ya decide to kick it at the ‘Brawling Pug’ for some drinks, or get some food at the Meaty Market?

9) Favorite type of game?

10) If There was one good guy/girl from a video game/cartoon you’d like to see go anti hero then perma villan, who would it be?

11) Do you like Raichu?

I’ll tag @mrwhitefolks @darkshadow7777 @kaboozleskaboodle @toxicsketches (can’t tag anymore. I have no friends ;_; )

[swordandquill]

Blaze of Glory

Summary: Keith gets a new friend, or Keith has a soft spot for small animals in need. 

Notes: For Platonic Paladin Week, day 2: chaos / quiet, because chaos makes me think of ferrets. If you prefer AO3′s format better, you can find it here.

Keith wasn’t a big fan of these sorts of big, crowded, open air markets. He didn’t like crowds to start with, but he always felt vulnerable when there were so many people everywhere, and he couldn’t keep track of all of them.

Hunk, Lance, and Pidge loved coming to them though, and Shiro said Keith needed to get out more. Keith would have rather ‘gotten out’ by going someplace that wasn’t a city, but he wasn’t going to argue with Shiro. He didn’t have any qualms though about leaving Shiro on his own to babysit the other paladins. If he was going to make them all come, then he could deal with their short attention spans and desire to touch absolutely everything.

Pidge was trying to spend all the money they had brought with them on some sort of tech toy, and Hunk had already spent a good portion of it on a bunch of strange seeds that the shop owner swore would grow into food. The shop owner had looked shady to Keith, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Hunk had just wasted a bunch of money on weeds.

Lance, at least, usually bartered at these sorts of markets. He brought odds and ends and traded them for random and useless things. He had just traded a pouch full of beads and buttons for a huge sack of what looked to be embroidery floss, and Keith had no idea what he was going to do with that. He probably didn’t want to know.

Keith watched Shiro forcefully drag Pidge away from the stall with all the gadgets and over to Hunk, where he politely told the shop keeper they weren’t buying anymore seeds, then dragged Hunk away too, and decided it was maybe time to do a little exploring of the market on his own before he got dragged into trying to help keep track of them.

He turned down a quieter street that seemed to be mostly full of stalls selling books and art. It wasn’t much better than the main street, but there was room to walk down it without constantly being jostled. If their translation program had worked better, he would have been tempted to buy a few books, but it was still clunky and rendered phrases strangely, even when going from Altean to English, which they used pretty often and were constantly trying to fine tune.

Languages were just difficult, even for computers. Maybe especially for computers.

Keith picked up a book anyway, his interest piqued by the strange dragon-like creature on the cover, and thumbed through it, hoping for a few pictures to tell him what it was about. As he was looking, he caught a movement in the peripheral of his sight and immediately looked up, his hand itching for his bayard, although he didn’t pull it out from where it was tucked under his jacket.

A gangly alien in a dirty apron dumping a crate in an alley was probably not worth drawing his bayard over. He was a little suspicious though when the alien gave it a vicious kick, then glared at it, before going back inside. Keith frowned and set the book back down, going to take a look.

There might be something interesting in a crate that induced anger in people after all.

The crate was full of packing material, and as Keith began carefully pulling it out, he heard a series of tiny, distressed chirps and squeaks, like an upset baby bird. He speed up his efforts to get the packing material out of the way, but with no less caution. He had been bitten by birds before, and it hurt.

He was almost to the bottom of the crate when he spotted the little ball of fur, trembling and mewing unhappily. So not a bird then.

“Hey, little guy,” Keith said softly, reaching his hand slowly towards it, fingers curled in a fist so they would be harder to bite.

The creature uncurled slowly, sniffing at Keith’s hand, then chirping again and trying to gnaw on it. It wasn’t biting hard, and it reminded Keith of the way puppies could be mouthy when they were young. It reminded Keith of a weasel or ferret, with dark chocolaty fur scatter with spots like the ones on a fawn. A ridge of golden fur ran from the top of its head all the way down its tail.

If it had been an earth animal, Keith would have said it was a baby just from the proportions and how unsteady it was, but he had no idea how that translated to an alien species.

Well, he wasn’t leaving it here, that was for sure, and it wasn’t like this was the first time he had rescued an animal, although the fact that he wouldn’t be able to release it in its home environment one it was ready if he took it on board the ship did complicate things. That and having no idea what it was. He did like a challenge though.

He picked it up carefully out of the crate, cradling it gently in the crook of his arm. It chirped and squeaked in fear, curling into a tiny ball with its nose hidden under its puffy tail. Keith stroked a finger along its back, talking to it softly as he stood.

Before heading out of the alley, he kicked the crate in front of the door, hoping the guy would trip over it next time he came out.

It would be good if he could at least learn something about the animal before he took it back to the castle. He probably wouldn’t have access to too much information after they left here. He scanned the street stalls and spotted the bookseller who had let him thumb through her books even though he hadn’t bought anything.

“Excuse me,” Keith had to grab the little animal around the middle when it tried to burrow between his elbow and side; it seemed more like it was trying to hide then escape.

The bookseller gave him a questioning look, all three of her eyes darting to the furry thing in his arms.

“Do you know what kind of animal this is?” Keith asked, pulling it away from his arm so she could get a better look.

The little thing mewed pitifully, trying to hide again.

“Oh, that’s a baby snarvader,” the bookseller said with disinterest once she recognized it.

That wasn’t very helpful for Keith.

“Is it like a pet?” he tried, letting the snarvader hide itself back in the crook of his arm.

“Some people keep them as pets,” she shrugged, “but a lot of people think of them as pests.”

“Do you know what they eat?” Keith pulled the baby away from his elbow when it started chewing on his jacket.

“Pet kibble,” she offered uncertainly, “I really don’t know much about them. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Keith got a better hold on the snarvader, lifting it up to curl against his chest, “thanks for the help.”

Keith decided he would probably be better off going back to the castle and looking up the creature in the castle database, then wandering from stall to stall trying to find someone who knew something about it. He contacted Shiro to let him know he was heading back, then tucked the wiggly, squeaky little fur ball into his arms and headed home.

It proved harder than expected to find information on the snarvader. Keith didn’t know how to spell it, and even if he did, switching from an alien alphabet to a Romanized one wasn’t an exact science and the translation program just seemed confused by his attempts.

Water, at least, he figured would be good, and the baby had agreed, lapping it up happily from the plate Keith had poured it on. Then it had chirped at him and pawed at his hand, obviously wanting to be fed.

Coran had told them the food goo was “universal sustenance,” but Keith had his doubts about it being suitable for every animal in the universe. He had to try something though. He knew from a childhood full of rescuing squirrels, lizards, and baby birds that young animals needed to be fed regularly, or they would get sick.

So he tried the food goo, and while the snarvader was interested enough to lick a little off his finger, it didn’t really seem to want to eat it. It didn’t mind rubbing it all over its face though.

Keith glared at the useless tablet on his bed and wondered, not for the first time, why the universal translators that let them understand people and be understood when they spoke worked so well, and the translator for written languages was so terrible.

He had just managed to clean the goo out of the snarvader’s fur when there was a knock on the door and Lance let himself in. Keith was slowly getting used to that. Lance knocked, but rarely waited for permission to enter a room. Boundaries were not Lance’s thing, apparently.

“Hey Keith, did you…?” Lance’s question trailed off when he spotted the fur ball on Keith’s lap, “what’s that, and where did you get it?”

Keith sighed. At least Lance sounded curious and not scandalized.

“It’s a snarvader, I guess,” Keith picked the squirming baby up and held it close to his chest when it tried to burrow under his shirt to hide from Lance, “someone dumped it in a crate in an alleyway.”

“Nice to know there are jerks everywhere,” Lance snorted, “what are you going to do with it?”

“Take care of it, if I can figure out how,” Keith rubbed the snarvader between the ears and it chirped happily, “I can’t find it in the data base.”

“Did you try a photo search?” Lance snatched up the tablet and sat next to him on the bed.

“We can do that?” Keith frowned.

“Totally,” Lance held up the tablet, clicking his tongue to get the snarvader to look up at him before snapping the picture and starting the tablet searching, “it’s really cute. Does it bite?”

“It’s a little mouthy, but it doesn’t bite hard,” Keith shrugged, “its teeth are sharp though.”

While the tablet searched, Lance held his finger out to the snarvader to let it sniff him. It chirped and rubbed its head against Lance’s hand. Keith let it go cautiously, and it crept up Lance’s leg, sniffing at his jacket pocket.

The tablet beeped to let them know it had found something, and the snarvader jumped and scrambled back to Keith, scrambling up his arm to perch on his shoulder and growl at the tablet.

“Wow, even its growl is cute,” Lance grinned and scrolled through the search returns.

“It would be less cute if it was actually biting you,” Keith reached up to scratch the snarvader’s head.

“It would still be cute,” Lance shrugged, “it would just hurt more. Those are not mutually exclusive things.”

“You are so weird,” Keith said without any venom.

“Here it is” Lance ignored him, “wouldn’t have thought to spell it that way.”

Lance pulled up the article and started skimming through it while the snardvader seemed to regain its courage and crept down from Keith’s shoulder, stalking towards the tablet in Lance’s lap.

“So, predator, obviously,” Lance gave it an amused looked, “also dimorphic, so congratulations, it’s a boy.”

Lance held up the tablet so Keith could see the photos comparing the male and female of the species. They were obviously adults, and their fur had changed to a tawny golden color with black stripes. One sported a pale ridge down the back that stood up straight like a crest, the other had a purple ridge.

Keith tried to read the captions, and realized they were still in Altean.

“Are you not translating that?” he glanced at Lance.

“The translation program is seriously obnoxious,” Lance pulled the tablet back and went back to reading, “it was less annoying just to learn to read it.”

“Pidge almost got mauled trying to learn Altean,” Keith gaped at him.

“She was trying to gain a conversational fluency,” Lance waved his hand dismissively, “I just needed a reading comprehension. That’s much easier. Also, that program explains a lot about Allura.”

“You just…” Keith blinked at him, then had to catch the snarvarder to stop it from pouncing on the tablet.

“Anyway,” Lance went back to the article, “they’re technically carnivores, mostly small prey like rodents, although apparently, they’ll sometimes eat nuts or things like that if prey is scarce. You better make sure you train it not to go after the mice, or Allura will be pissed.”

“Right,” Keith tried to hold onto the snarvader, but it wiggles out of his grasp again and climbed up his arm to perch on his head. It stood on its rear legs like a prairie dog and chirped at Lance like it was scolding him, “so the goo probably isn’t going to work.”

“It might be okay,” Lance gave the baby an amused look, “Hunk said the goo is mostly synthetic protein with vitamins and minerals added. Apparently, there’s a way to change the make-up of it. You should talk to him about it.”

“That’s promising at least,” Keith tried to grab the snarvader off his head, and it jumped down to his lap and ran under his arm to burrow under his pillow.

Lance laughed, “what are you naming him?”

“Naming?” Keith paused in trying to get the snarvader out from under his pillow.

“If you’re keeping him, you have to name him,” Lance bookmarked the article on the snarvader for Keith, then hit the translation button so he could actually read it, “those are the rules.”

“Who’s rules?” Keith demanded, pulling his hand back when the snarvader tried to pounce on it.

“The rules,” Lance grinned, “that’s just the way it is. If you don’t name him, I will. He looks like an Aronnax to me.”

“Really?” Keith huffed, managing to catch the squirmy creature, “he’s like a ferret, not a fish.”

“Ha! You got the reference!” Lance practically cheered.

Keith couldn’t do anything about the blush that spread across his cheeks. It was always frustrating how few of the references from the rest of the team he got. He just hadn’t grown up watching much TV. He would much rather be reading or outside doing something. It wasn’t really a big deal, but sometimes he felt like he was missing out on things with the team.

“I’m still not calling him that,” Keith grumbled.

“Well, come up with something then,” Lance handed him the tablet, “there you go, all translated. Dimorphic is now color coded, so good luck.”

“Thanks,” Keith said dryly.

“No problem,” Lance pushed himself up and reached down to give the snarvader a pat before leaving.

Keith held the snarvader up over his head, and it leaned down to sniff at his face.

“Don’t eat the mice,” Keith said firmly.

The snarvader chirped back at him, and Keith couldn’t help but grin.

“Let’s go find Hunk,” he tucked the baby in the crook of his arm and headed down to the kitchen.

Hunk was not in the kitchen, and when Keith finally managed to track him down, he found him in one of the castle’s machine shops. He has something in pieces and spread out all over his worktable, and his soldering goggles on. He looked up when Keith came in, and the snarvader hissed at him and burrowed under Keith’s jacket, making him flinch at the little claws prickling through his shirt.

“What was that?” Hunk pushed his goggles up on his head, looking alarmed.

“It’s a snarvader,” Keith pulled him out, needing both hands to unhook his claws.

“It’s a space ferret,” Hunk squinted at it, “what are you doing with it?”

“Trying to figure out how to feed it,” Keith tucked the snarvader into the crook of his arm, and he hid his face in Keith’s elbow, “also I think your goggles are freaking him out.”

“Oh, sorry,” Hunk pulled them off and put them on the workbench, “what does it eat?”

“He’s a carnivore, mostly small prey like rodents,” Keith stroked the snarvader’s head, and he peeked out at Hunk, looking at him curiously, “Lance thought you might be able to modify the food goo so it would work for him.”

“It might already be okay for him,” Hunk said thoughtfully, “it’s mostly just protein anyway.”

“He won’t eat it though. He mostly just plays in it,” Keith frowned.

“Well, I can try to make it taste meaty, I guess,” Hunk rubbed the back of his head, “are you keeping him?”

“Yeah,” Keith let the snarvader climb up to his shoulder, “he’s too young to release back to where I found him, and by the time he’s old enough, we won’t be anywhere near here.”

“Have you asked Allura yet?” Hunk held his hand out cautiously for the snarvader to sniff.

“Why?” Keith gave him a blank look.

Hunk gaped at him for a moment, then shook his head, “right. So if you’re keeping him, you have to name him.”

“You and Lance,” Keith grumbled.

“Huh?” when the snarvader didn’t bite him, Hunk tentatively stroked his head.

“Never mind,” Keith shook his head, “can you help me with the food thing? He needs to eat soon.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hunk pushed away from his workbench and stood up with a stretch, “what about Chester?”

“Chester?” Keith let the snarvader climb up his arm to ride on his shoulder as they headed towards the kitchen.

“As a name,” Hunk clarified, “he looks like a Chester.”

“That’s a terrible name,” Keith said flatly.

“Yeah, totally,” Hunk agreed, “but try it for a couple days. I bet it will grow on you.”

Keith shook his head, wondering if maybe Lance and Hunk spent a little too much time together.

“Oh!” Hunk stopped so suddenly Keith jumped and the snarvader almost fell off his shoulder.

The snarvader chittered irritably at both of them, and Keith reached up to scratch him under the chin.

“I’m going to build him a space ferret palace!” Hunk said excitedly.

“A what?” Keith looked at him as if he thought he had lost it just a little.

“Well, you have to have an enclosure for him, right?” Hunk started walking again.

“I don’t really…” Keith frowned, not liking the idea of putting the snarvader in a cage.

“No, seriously, you need a safe place to keep him when we’re out,” Hunk explained, “so he doesn’t get into stuff he shouldn’t and get hurt.”

“I guess so,” Keith could see why that would be practical and necessary.

There were lots of things on the castle that a small creature like a snarvader could get in trouble with; there were lots of things on the castle that they could get in trouble with, and they weren’t even that small.

“It will be awesome!” Hunk said enthusiastically, “I’ll make it huge, like ten feet, with platforms, and things for him to climb, and boxes for him to nest in, and toys…”

Keith smiled as he followed after Hunk. A space ferret palace did seem like a good idea, and if Hunk was willing to help, he wasn’t going to object.

“Of course, we’ll have to find out what kind of bedding little Chester likes…” Hunk continued his rambling.

“I’m not naming him Chester!”

It had been a very long day, and kind of terrible really. Although, no one was dead, so that was something. There had been a lot of blood though, and Lance and Pidge were both in the healing pods.

His bedroom door slid shut behind him, and he ran his hands tiredly over his face. Shiro was wired, Hunk was a mess, and Keith just needed a little bit of quiet.

The snarvader chirped and cooed at him from his enclosure, excited that Keith was back.

Hunk had outdone himself with his space ferret palace. It took up half a wall and reached from floor to ceiling, and Hunk was still adding things to it when ideas struck him.

Keith opened the enclosure, and the snarvader jumped out, scurrying up his arm to perch on his shoulder and rub against his cheek.

“I’m all dirty, buddy,” Keith reached up to scratch his ears, then pulled him off his shoulder and set him on the bed.

The snarvader immediately dove under the pillow, and Keith could help but grin as the pillow bounced around while he rooted under it. He started stripping off his armor and dropping it on the floor. He would clean it properly soon, but he really wanted a shower and just to sit down for a few minutes.

Chirping came from the bed, and Keith looked over to find the snarvader had emerged from under the pillow with a fuzzy ball that Lance had given him. He stood on his hind legs, ball in his mouth and looking expectantly at Keith.

Keith snorted softly and took the ball, throwing it up to the top of the enclosure. The snarvader raced after it, climbing up the wire mesh with a burst of speed.

Dropping the last of his armor in a trail behind him, Keith headed into the shower. The hot water felt good even if it did sting against all his cuts and scrapes. It really had been a terrible mission. Keith closed his eyes and tried to rub the knots out of his shoulders. The hot water helped with that at least.

He cracked open an eye when he heard chittering and gave the snarvader a dubious look as he poked his nose into the shower. The last time Keith had had an animal in the shower with him, it had been a cat that had fallen in while nosing around the curtain, and it hadn’t ended well for him.

The snarvader seemed unperturbed by the water though, sniffed at the falling drops, then practically racing under the stream between Keith’s feet. It chirped happily, rolling around in the water and wiggling from head to toe.

“Well, I guess we both like hot showers, huh?” Keith smiled down at him.

The snarvader chittered and set about grooming his tail.

The tension finally eased out of Keith’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the reprimanding squeak he got for turning off the water. After drying himself off, he caught the snarvader in a towel and rubbed him dry as well, then followed him back into his room.

He should probably get dressed and go check on Hunk and Shiro, but he found himself reaching his sweats and a t-shirt instead. Red sweats, of course, because all the clothes Coran provided for them were color coded. Keith had had to steal one of Shiro’s shirts just to get away from not wearing solid red all the time.

The snarvader curled up on the edge of the pillow, where it usually slept at night, and Keith sat heavily on his bed. He had socks… somewhere… and shoes…

He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the snarvader again. It wouldn’t hurt to lie down for just a bit; he wouldn’t want the snarvader to get lonely or cold while it was napping. Just for a few minutes.

Keith curled on his side so he could pet the furry little creature, and the snarvader made a buzzing sound Keith had come to associate with him being happy. It kind of reminded him of crickets on a summer night…

Keith opened his eyes without remembering closing them and knew he had been asleep for a while. His room was dim and cool, like the inside of a desert cave on a hot afternoon, and he was comfortable. The snarvader had curled under Keith’s arm and was sleeping soundly, nose tucked under his bushy tail.

Keith felt much better.

He really should go check on Shiro and Hunk, and maybe Lance and Pidge as well. There was no way he had slept long enough for them to be out of the healing pods, but he would still feel better if he checked on them.

He ran a gentle finger down the ridge of the sleeping snarvader and smiled contently. Maybe building a pool for the space ferret palace would be just the distraction Hunk needed.

“Really Hunk, I’m sure just a bin or something would be fine,” Keith snatched up the snarvader before he could dig into Hunk’s tool box, tucking him into the crook of his arm.

While Lance and Pidge had been in the healing pods still, Keith had been happy to let Hunk come up with complicated plans for a ridiculous sophisticated pool for the snarvader. It had been a good distraction for him. Now that he was actually trying to build something, it seemed unnecessarily complex.

“No, this is going to be cool,” Hunk assured him, “Pidge is working on this nano-tech thing for it.”

“Nano-tech, really?” Keith set the snarvader up on his shoulder and boosted himself up to sit on a corner of Hunk’s workbench he wasn’t using.

“Yep,” Pidge came in carrying a crate so big it hid her face, “to stop him from getting water everywhere.”

“Doesn’t that seem a little overkill?” Keith frowned at her.

“Well I think so, but Hunk said…” Pidge dropped the crate, then blinked at Keith.

Suddenly Pidge was right in front of him, on her toes and leaning in. Keith leaned back, startled by how fast she had moved.

“That’s the space ferret?” Pidge reached up to try to pet him, and he chittered at her and jumped onto Keith’s head, “Hunk, why didn’t you tell me how cute he is?”

“I did,” Hunk said mildly, continuing with his work, “but after I said ‘nano-tech,’ your eyes glazed over and you stopped listening.”

“Yeah, probably,” Pidge reached out again, and the snarvader dropped into the space between Keith’s neck and the collar of his jacket, making him shutter.

“Does he not like me?” Pidge pouted sadly.

“No, you just startled him,” Keith pulled him out from behind his neck gingerly.

The snarvader had taken to curling up in Lance’s hood when Keith wasn’t around, and now he seemed to think that was an optimal hiding place whether there was a hood there or not. It didn’t help that he had just about outgrown the pockets in Keith’s jacket.

“Will he bite?” Pidge gave the ball of fur a dubious look as Keith tucked him into the crook of his elbow again.

“Not unless you don’t leave him alone when he’s upset,” Keith shrugged, “let him settle down a little, and you should be able to pet him.”

“We’re going to build you the best space ferret pool ever,” Pidge cooed, leaning forward to get a better look, “and you can splash all you want, and the nano-bots will make sure you don’t track water all over the castle.”

“What happens if he eats them?” Keith asked, scratching the snarvader under the chin.

“Eats?” Pidge looked at him blankly.

“Yeah,” Keith frowned at her, “what happens if he ends up accidently eating the nano-bots?”

“Um… well…” Pidge frowned, “nothing… I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

“Thanks,” Keith said dryly.

The snarvader peered out at Pidge curiously, the crept down Keith’s arm to sit on his hands, cocking his head to the side and chittering.

“He’s so cute,” Pidge squealed, “now can I pet him?”

“Sure,” Keith snickered; it was amusing to see Pidge excited about something that wasn’t a piece of tech.

Pidge reached out and tentatively rubbed the snarvader’s head. When he chirped and puffed up happily, Pidge’s eyes lit up, and she ran her hand down his back.

“Have you named him yet?” she asked eagerly.

“No,” Keith shook his head.

“We’re trying out Chester,” Hunk pipped up, “you know, just as a trial.”

“No, we’re not,” Keith said firmly.

“How about Rover Jr?” Pidge grinned hugely.

“I am not naming him after your robot,” Keith let the snarvader jump from his hands to Pidge’s arm, and she froze in delight.

After a moment the snarvader ran up to her shoulder and perched there on his hide legs, looking around, then started picking through her hair with his nose and front paws.

“Rover was a great robot!” Pidge protested, once she was sure she wasn’t going to get bitten, “also, what is he doing?”

“He’s grooming you,” Keith laughed, “He thinks you need to brush your hair more often.”

“Like you’re one to talk. Do you even know what a brush is?” Pidge huffed, then grinned when the snarvader rubbed against her cheek.

“No,” Keith deadpanned, “my hair never tangles.”

Hunk snickered.

“Maybe I should just hold onto this little guy,” Pidge scratched the snarvader under the chin, “I mean for research, for the pool.”

“I don’t think so,” Keith clicked his tongue, and the snarvader immediately scampered down Pidge and hopped back into Keith’s arms, snuggling into the crook of his elbow.

“Fine,” Pidge huffs, “but if you’re keeping him, you have to name him.”

“Says who?” Keith rubbed the snarvader between the ears.

“Those are the rules, man,” Hunk pointed a screwdriver at him, “if you keep it, you have to name it.”

“Who came up with these rules, and why do I have to follow them?” Keith demanded.

“That’s just the way it is,” Pidge shrugged.

“Naming him is like making him yours,” Hunk said, “like making him part of a family.”

Keith looked down at the contently buzzing snarvader in his arms with a frown.

“I’m not naming him Chester,” he said firmly.

Pidge took a breath.

“Or Rover Jr.” Keith cut her off.

Pidge grumbled and started unpacking her box, and Keith stayed for a while, watching them work while the snarvader slept contently in the crook of his arm.

Maybe he would have to name him after all.

Keith liked real books. He liked the weight of them and being able to turn the pages, but there were no translation program for the actual books in the library, so he had to settle for the awkward translations of digital copies on a tablet.

Maybe he should take a stab at learning to read Altean, but language had never really been his thing and he’d rather just settle for the bad translations.

The snarvader yawned in his lap, standing to turn a circle before resettling, forcing Keith to lift his tablet out of the way momentarily before he could return to reading. He thought it was a fantasy novel, but he was still unsure about what Altean magic could actually do, so for all he knew, he was reading a history text.

He absently petted the snarvader in his lap as they both settled back down. He was shedding like crazy, growing into his adult coat, and his fur was almost blotchy as it transitions from the adolescent black to the tawny gold with black stripes of an adult. Black tips had started appearing on his crest as well. He was obnoxious about being brushed out though, always trying to bite the comb, so Keith had mostly given up on that.

Snardvaders somehow make it through shedding in the wild without a comb, so he didn’t see why it would be a necessary, although he kind of missed his clothes not being covered in fur. It would pass eventually though.

“So that’s the space ferret?” Shiro sprawled onto the couch next to Keith, and the snarvader perked up, crest raising like a mohawk in curiosity.

“You haven’t seen him yet?” Keith glanced up; he had been sure Shiro had seen him before, but maybe not.

“Nope,” Shiro held his hand out lazily for the snarvader to sniff, “but I have heard all about Chester Aronnax Rover jr and how his enclosure is nicer than our rooms.”

“That is not his name,” Keith said firmly.

Shiro laughed, rubbing the snarvader’s ears when he pushed against his hand, “then you better pick one you like before it sticks.”

Keith grumbled, and Shiro smirked at him, holding still when the snarvader decided to climb up his arm and sit on his shoulder.

“At least he’s cute,” Shiro scratched the snarvader under the chin, “not like those creepy squirrel babies you used to save.”

“They were adorable,” Keith huffed, “you only think they were ugly because you’re heartless.”

Shiro laughed, startling the snarvader, who jumped from his shoulder and raced back to Keith, clamoring up onto his head then chittering at Shiro, ridge raised all the way down his back in irritation.

Shiro looked distinctly unimpressed.

“You really should name him though,” Shiro smiled, “otherwise everyone is just going to keep calling him by whatever name they want.”

“I don’t know,” Keith tapped his shoulder, and the snarvader came off his head to perch there, happily buzzing when Keith rubbed his chin.

“What about Chief?” Shiro suggested.

“You’re terrible at naming things,” Keith groaned.

“Better then you,” Shiro leaned his head against the back of the couch contently, “you never name anything.”

“It just doesn’t seem necessary,” Keith complained.

“Unless you want him to be called Chester Aronnax Rover jr, it’s necessary,” Shiro pointed out.

Keith frowned, glaring vaguely at the snarvader as it came down from his shoulder to settle back in his lap. Names were important. Once you named something, you were supposed to be responsible for it. Keith didn’t want to mess that up, so it had always seemed better not to.

“You could call him Akira,” Shiro grinned.

“Terrible at names,” Keith repeated.

Shiro shrugged, “I guess you can call him C.A.R. for short, or Car. That’s kind of cute.”

“Blaze,” Keith said sharply, “his name is Blaze. Stop calling him stupid names.”

Shiro regarded the snarvader as it yawned hugely, showing off small, sharp teeth.

“Yeah, I could see that,” he said, “now that you’ve named him, you have to keep him though.”

Keith glared and pointedly went back to his book.

Lance clicked his tongue, holding out a piece of purple ‘space popcorn’. It didn’t taste that much like popcorn, but it had a satisfying crunch, and Hunk had managed to tease a salty sweetness into it that made it a good movie watching snack.

Blaze perked up from where he had been sitting on Pidge’s knee, scampering up Shiro’s leg and across Hunk’s lap to take the treat from Lance’s hand. Lance scratched his ears, then his rump, causing him to wiggle his rear happily before looking up at Lance expectantly. Lance was happy to oblige, holding out another piece of popcorn and grinning as Blaze settled in his lap to munch away.

“He didn’t say that in the book,” Keith complained, sounding much more frustrated then he had the last time he said it, which was actually a little impressive.

“Maybe he meant to,” Pidge deadpanned, not taking her eyes from her laptop screen.

“He did not!” Keith protested, “and why does he keep flipping his hair like that? Why does he even have long hair?”

Shiro did his best to muffle his snickers in the pillow he was holding to his chest.

“I told you we should have watched the remake,” Lance smirked, knowing already that no movie based on a book was ever going to reach Keith’s exacting standards, “that was much more like the book.”

Hunk nudged Lance with his shoulder, and Blaze gave him a curious look. It was enough to distract him from trying to stop Lance from egging Keith on, and instead, he offered the snarvader a piece of popcorn, coaxing him from Lance’s lap to his.

“No it wasn’t,” Keith scowled, “it got all the important stuff wrong too.”

Shiro pressed his face harder into the pillow. He had discovered the joys of watching movies with Keith a long time ago. It almost didn’t matter to him what they watched, because Keith was the entertainment. Pidge seemed to have figured that out and intentionally suggested movies based on books when it was her turn to choose. Lance might have too, although his goal seemed to be finding a movie based on a book Keith hadn’t read. He hadn’t found one yet, at least, not one he was actually willing to sit through.

“The music in this one is better,” Pidge shrugged.

“The special effects in the remake are way better,” Lance argued.

“They totally are,” Hunk agreed, “but the story kind of flows better in this one.”

“They left three whole chapters out!” Keith glared, “and the remake skips like half a book.”

Shiro choked on his laughter, and Keith scowled at him from the other side of the couch. Lance and Hunk hadn’t realized yet that Shiro was using them as a human shield. Keith took his books seriously.

“See, they only missed three chapters,” Pidge wasn’t quite hiding her smirk, “this one is better.”

Keith made a disgruntled sound and slouched down, purposely stretching his legs to poke at Pidge. Shiro held his breath, because he had watched this movie with Keith before, and he knew what scene was next.

“He didn’t do that!” Keith’s voice was loud enough to startle the snarvader, who came up on his hind legs on Hunk’s lap, crest rising, “that’s the exact opposite of what he did!”

Shiro’s efforts to hold in his laugh ended in him snorting loudly.

“Stop laughing!” Keith grabbed a pillow, lunging across Lance and Hunk to try to hit Shiro with it.

Pidge calmly saved the bowl of popcorn from Shiro’s lap without looking up, and Hunk and Lance, used to siblings randomly flinging themselves over them, simply leaned back, lifting their arms out of the way. Blaze chittered in alarm, scurrying off Hunk’s lap, across Shiro’s, then up his arm and onto the back of the couch.

There were a few minutes of tussling where Pidge got kneed in the back, and Shiro proved, again, that his arms were much longer then Keith’s, but Keith still managed to hit him in the face with a pillow multiple times before Shiro got the pillow away from him. Lance and Hunk were not helpful to anyone, even each other, and Lance positively squealed when he discovered Keith was ticklish along his ribs, which resulted in Hunk getting elbowed, and Lance almost getting kicked in the head.

In the end, Keith collapsed sprawled across Hunk and Lance, face buried in a pillow on Shiro’s lap. Hunk and Lance were only too happy to use his back as an armrest, and Lance reached over him, taking back the popcorn bowl and sitting it on the small of Keith’s back where they could all reach it. Hunk dropped a piece of popcorn between Keith’s shoulder blades, and Blaze crept cautiously down Hunk’s arm to claim it, then proceeded to curl up on Keith’s back as well, trapping him where he was more effectively than any of them ever could have managed to.

“I hate you all,” Keith grumbled into the pillow, “except Blaze.”

“That’s okay,” Pidge reached back, flailing blindly in the direction of Keith’s shoulder and mostly patting his head instead, “we’ll keep you anyway.”

Lance did chores almost automatically. If he came into a room and spotted something that needed to be done, he usually just did it. For a while Shiro had felt like he should get up and help Lance whenever he spotted him loading the dishwasher or cleaning the commons area, but eventually he had realized Lance needed things to do, and left him to it.

He was unloading the dishwasher when Shiro came into the kitchen, and Shiro rumpled his hair as he walked by, pausing to scratch Blaze’s ears when the snarvader popped his head out of Lance’s hood, then started the almost-coffee brewer. While it brewed, he boosted himself up on the counter and went back to reading the logs from their last mission on his tablet.

He was just about to ask Lance what he had meant by “they were so stupid I decided not to freeze them” when Allura came in.

“Good morning, paladins,” she greeted cheerfully, then froze.

Shiro looked up to find her staring at Blaze, who had poked his head out of Lance’s hood at the sound of her voice. It occurred to Shiro that the princess might not have ever actually seen Blaze and possibly didn’t known Keith had him. Keith let him run around the residential area of the castle when they were there, but Allura didn’t come into that area too often.

“What is that?” Allura demanded.

“It’s a snarvader,” Lance paused, giving her a curious look.

“You can’t just bring vermin onto the ship,” Allura was looking at Blaze like he might leap out and attack her.

“Okay, one, Keith brought him on board the ship, not me” Lance reached back to rub Blaze’s ears, and the snarvader chittered, then ducked back into his hood, “two, you have pet mice.”

“That’s different,” Allura protested, “and you can’t just blame Keith for everything.”

“What are you blaming me for?” Keith came into the kitchen, looking a little sleepy; it was still early, and just because Keith had dragged himself out of bed to go running didn’t mean he was really awake yet.

Blaze perked up at the sound of Keith’s voice, climbing out of Lance’s hood to perch on his shoulder until Keith was close enough to him to jump onto his outstretched arm. He scurried up Keith’s arm and settled on his shoulder, blinking at Allura, crest raised curiously.

“It really is Keith’s,” Allura murmured in surprise.

“Apparently, it’s okay for Allura to keep mice, but we’re not allowed to have pets,” Lance went back to putting dishes away.

“Isn’t that, like, despotism?” Keith reached up to pull two mugs down from the cupboard, apparently not very worried about Allura’s reaction.

“Well, I mean, kind of,” Lance shrugged, “she’s assuming she has absolute power to enforce arbitrary rules.”

“What?” Allura blinked at them, clearly not sure how to respond to that.

“Maybe tyranny?” Lance offered, “the arbitrary and cruel use of power?”

“Well, technically,” Keith poured a mug of almost-coffee and passed it to Shiro, “it is pretty arbitrary that she gets to have pets, and we don’t.”

Shiro accepted the mug, but pointedly keeps his eyes on his data tablet. It was too early, and he wanted no part of this.

“Wait,” Allura frowned at them, “I’m not being arbitrary.”

“Fascism?” Keith proposed, pouring his own mug of coffee.

“She’s too pretty to be a fascist,” Lance looked away from putting bowls on a high shelf to give the princess a toothy smile, “also, I know she likes fighting things, but I don’t think she’s into one party states.”

“Totalitarianism, then,” Keith boosted himself up on the counter next to Shiro, reaching up to scratch Blaze’s ears with the hand not holding his mug, “authority that recognizes no limits and tries to impose regulation on every aspect of public and private life.”

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Lance handed him a stack of plates to put away on a shelf he couldn’t reach without climbing over Keith.

“Shiro!” Allura looked at him as if he could somehow make them stop.

“Don’t look at me,” Shiro took a sip of his coffee, “I don’t want to be a totalitarian.”

Allura made a frustrated noise, and Keith and Lance snickered.

“I’m not doing any of those things,” Allura said firmly.

“Then why is it a problem for me to keep him?” Keith asked.

“Snarvaders are pests,” Allura said in exasperation.

“That must be why you two get along so well,” Lance smirked at Keith, “you’re both pests.”

“Shut up,” Keith kicked half-heartedly at Lance.

“They’re predators,” Allura ignored them, “it will eat the mice.”

“Oh, is that all,” Keith waved his hand dismissively.

“What do you mean, is that all?” Allura glared at him, “I’m not having something that’s going to eat my mice aboard the ship.”

“Then this is your lucky day,” Lance snickered.

“What?” Allura looked at him blankly.

“Blaze gets along really well with the mice,” Keith clarified, “they play together all the time.”

“Also, Keith spoils him rotten,” Lance put in, “I’m pretty sure he’s never hungry.”

“How do you know it’s playing and not hunting?” Allura gave them both an unconvinced look.

“Because I’ve seen him hunt bugs,” Keith shrugged, “also I’ve had him almost five months now. If he was going to eat them, he would have already.”

“You’ve had him that long?” Allura looked shocked.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, shifting slightly as Blaze jumped from his shoulder to his lap, “and he hasn’t caused any problems.”

“I suppose he is rather cute,” Allura leaned closer cautiously, as if she thought the snarvader might jump at her.

Keith ran his hand along Blaze’s back, smoothing down his crest, and the snarvader arched into the touch, then turned a few circles before settling in a ball. Keith continued to stroke him, and he buzzed contently.

“Or really cute,” Allura amended, ignoring Lance and Shiro’s snickers.

“So is there a problem?” Keith quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I suppose not,” Allura straightened, “just tell me next time you bring an animal on board, please.”

“Does that mean we can get more?” Lance perked up.

Allura groaned and left the room, leaving Shiro to deal with what would and wouldn’t constitute an appropriate pet on board a spaceship.

She wasn’t certain about having a small predator lurking about the ship, but her paladins seemed happy, and if he hadn’t bothered the mice yet, he probably wasn’t going to.

And he was awfully cute, after all.

[adambstingus]

5 Ways The Modern World Makes Mass Murder Easier

OK, Christ, let’s get one thing clear here: The internet isn’t a bad thing. At no point will the world become a cartoonist’s caricature of some smoldering dumpland surrounding a cow pen of millennials checking their smartphones. I get that no one under the age of 70 wants to hear some hand-flailing diatribe about the dangers of modern conveniences or how video games and Twitter turn supple minds into itty Patrick Batemans (Batemen?). It’s horse poop.

But also horse poop: pretending that society has lurched into a tubular hack-the-planet age without any detrimental consequences. And one correlation that’s always troubled me is the FBI’s report about the rise of spree shootings adjacent to the rise in the web’s popularity. While it would be horribly irresponsible to use that data alone to point fingers at the world’s favorite new cat and porn depository, there’s certainly enough circumstantial evidence to at least support suspicious squints toward your cable router. For example …

5

The Internet Attracts Depressed, Emotionless People (According To Science)

Like I just got done saying, the internet isn’t turning people into psychopaths, just as video games and movies aren’t. But to quote the great modern mind Skeet Ulrich: “Movies don’t create psychos. Movies make psychos more creative.” In other words, troubled people can draw inspiration and solace from anywhere, and science has found that one common place to hide has been the internet.

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If a person tends to be introverted, or isolated, or generally uncomfortable dealing with other people (like I’m sure a lot of you reading this are), then the internet is a great place to find peace. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it also means that the more rejected from the world a person feels, the easier it it for them to live their life solely through a computer screen. And while we’ve only just begun to study the effects of this, what little results we have seem to indicate that excessive online use tends to go hand in hand with addiction, depression, impulsiveness, and anxiety. Getting more specific, things like online forums and file sharing tend to attract those with depressive personalities. In other words, you don’t have to be an isolated, depressed loner to enjoy 4chan and Reddit … but it helps.

And going back to the fact that these websites absolutely don’t turn you into a sociopath, they are fan-fucking-tastic if you’re already one of those to begin with. Forums and Twitter are great ways to pass the time if you have no empathy, considering how impersonal they can be. And you know who tends to fit into that? Teenagers. Specifically, teenage boys.

“Cognitive empathy” — aka the ability to relate to other people’s perspectives — is not something that develops right away in people. For girls, it happens around the age of 13, but for boys it tends to start a bit later … right around the time they become parentally untethered online. And while I’m totally speculating, it makes way more sense to me that the reason so many spree killers are young men isn’t that men are inherently terrible crime monsters, but that they are biologically more susceptible to violent actions in an age in which you can escape into a faceless digital world. After all, I remember being that age when the internet first became a thing (I’m fucking old, you guys), and can personally attest to the hours I spent on sites like rotten.com and Limewire seeing just how much my adolescent brain could take. That doesn’t mean I’m a psychopath, right? Right, guys? We wouldn’t want that.

And since my early days, it’s gotten easier to find not only just about any corner of darkness you want, but also a whole digital community lurking there with you …

4

Online Communities Make Unhealthy Interests Seem Normal

Hey, let’s say I’m really into pictures of cars having sex with dragons. Hypothetically, of course. Let’s say it really gets my hammer slamming to see a Toyota Matrix squat behind some nubile hydra and give it the full business. Twenty years ago, that’s something I would have to keep to myself, quietly understanding that it’s kind of messed up I would be into such things. Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to hope I wouldn’t be ashamed of my vehicular fetish, but it’s certainly nothing I could build a whole lifestyle around. With luck, one day I might meet a woman who shared my dark secret, and together we could dress up like Herbie and Draco and go buck wild on each other. Just a honking good time.

But today, I don’t have to worry about any of that. There’s already a Reddit community of over 3,000 people who share my interest:

I know, I know, it’s a joke subreddit. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The point I’m trying to make here is this: One of the strengths of the internet is that it unites people from all over the country and world … which at times is also one of the worst things about it as well. Because along with political advocates, LGBT groups, nerd communities, people who drink beer in the shower while naked (hey, NSFW), and any other innocuous lifestyles like cosplayers and furries, we’re also seeing the garbage unions of Nazis, child predators, animal abusers, weird-shaped egg enthusiasts, and a fucking 2,000-strong group devoted to Taylor Swift’s armpits:

Reddit Which somehow forced the dragon-fucking out of top spot on the “weirdest fetish in this article” list.

This is something we’ve talked about before with online MRA groups. In the same way that a cult isolates and bubbles people into a false interpretation of reality, some online groups find the equally susceptible and gather them under one obsessive interest. And to keep repeating, it’s not that the internet is making them this way, but rather that it’s creating a nurturing place where those beliefs can be not only unchallenged but supported. Someone like an anti-vaxxer or Sandy Hook truther would be booed out of an everyday conversation, but online, they are not alone. Online, they have a community to assure them that what they are doing isn’t bat-dong wacky-sacks.

And then it’s only a matter of time before that person grows to believe that the rest of the world is the problem. Their awkwardness, isolation, and social anxiety is suddenly a justified reaction to a backwards society. It’s only a matter of time before they proudly lash out against the non-digital world, and what was once a quiet hobby becomes some dude fucking a neighbor’s Tegu dressed like a Transformer. Or, you know, a man shooting up Planned Parenthood after enveloping himself in anti-abortion YouTube videos edited to falsely assert that the organization sells baby parts.

And I know that it seems super weird to lump violence with joke subreddits about celebrity arm fetishes, but there’s a deliberate reason I’m doing this …

3

For Every Stupid Offensive “Joke,” There’s Someone Out There Taking It Seriously

Lemme tell you about being a young punk in the very liberal state of Massachusetts, which is what I once was. In order to rebel in a place like that, the goal was to be as offensive and politically incorrect as possible. And so derogatory bands like GG Allin, GWAR, and something terrible called “Anal Cunt” were often blasted with a smirk from my shitty car. It wasn’t necessarily that I believed the screeching lyrics, but rather that I enjoyed the immature shock value of it all. And while a lot of these bands were also simply in it for smirks, there comes a time when you realize that not everyone is interpreting them ironically. At some point, you find yourself moshing to a live performance of “Hitler Was A Sensitive Man,” only to notice that the dude next to you has a swastika tattooed on his chest. That isn’t to say I don’t still listen to bands like GG Allin, but rather that I do so quietly and in more personal, adult situations — like in the shower, or doing my taxes.

And as we sort of touched on before, this shock value is likely what a lot of 4channers and younger right-wingers think they are creating:

See, the joke was this: Pretend that certain symbols like the “OK” hand sign are Nazi salutes to freak out the media into thinking it’s real. Only guess what? “Pretending” something is a Nazi salute is ultimately the same goddamn thing as using an actual Nazi salute. And the more you do it, the more you end up attracting actual Nazis. Being “ironically” racist is just being racist, especially if you’re not building to any punchline beyond “Look how racist we’re being!”

And what comes next isn’t pretty. Ever hear of Alt-Reich Nation? It was a Facebook group all about “jokingly” posting racist and sexist memes. I say “jokingly” because its creator came out and clarified just that — as he put it to The New York Times, “Nothing is meant as true; we follow none of the beliefs.” And if you’re wondering why he had to make that public correction, it’s because one of their members recently stabbed and killed someone in what appeared to be a hate crime. But I’m sure he was just doing it for the lulz.

2

No One Can Tell You’re Being Radicalized If It’s Happening Online

Going back to my own edgy punkness (and frankly the reason this whole subject feels personal to me), I got into that genre and style because I spent my junior high years feeling like a complete outcast. And not the cool kind spelled with a ‘K.’ I gravitated toward something that turned my depression into energy, something that boosted my self-worth and made me feel part of a community.

So I can’t really say it’s a bad thing if young people are doing the same with the internet. However, what makes it vastly different is that before computers, taking part in a community meant being seen doing it. There was a level of accountability toward your family and friends. That goes for the unhealthy hate groups as well. It used to be that racist and violent groups congregated in a very visual way, and anyone joining would have to physically do so by attending rallies or shows or meetings. For communities and law enforcement and parents and peers, if someone became a white supremacist, that transition would come with a lot of huge red flags (ya know, like the swastika one). But now? Not so much.

A guy like Dylann Roof, who shot up the church in Charleston, certainly posed with his fair share of Confederate Flags and guns, but so do a lot of people. His indoctrination into violence and white supremacy happened quietly online, as it does for most everyone who joins some kind of hate group these days. It can be so goddamn under the table that a respectable member of society can not only be a part of a hate group, but fucking create one:

And what’s worse is that this problem is especially evident with law enforcement. That Mr. Roof? He had run into the cops multiple times in the past, even being questioned by the police for owning parts to a firearm. But since there was nothing physical linking him to any potential violence, there was no reason to keep an eye on him. Same with the Orlando nightclub shooter, whose neighbor flat-out reported him to the FBI for potential radicalization. They thoroughly investigated it and found no hard evidence, despite it being completely true. How did they miss it? Because it was happening online, while he was alone, with nobody noticing what was happening. He was radicalized into committing mass murder without leaving the comfort of his ergonomic office chair and microwave nachos. And while that certainly speaks volumes about the delightful convenience of the digital age, I’d like to hope you’re seeing what the big problem is here. Especially because these two instances aren’t the only ones by a long shot …

1

Every Goddamn Modern Spree Killer Fits This Pattern

Guys. Literally every time some asshole suddenly kills a bunch of people with an ideological motivation, we find out that they belonged to some kind of online community spouting their exact motivations. Dylann Roof described in detail his long nights pouring through racist stories on the Council of Conservative Citizens webpage which eventually led him to be radicalized. The Oregon community college shooter from 2015? He declared his intentions on a 4chan thread he frequented (adjoined with a Pepe meme). The Dallas shooter who targeted cops? Yet again, he was a part of online hate groups and posted about the killings online. Remember Elliot Rodger, who went around targeting women in Isla Vista, California, killing seven? Not only did he post YouTube videos leading up to it, but he was also a member of anti-women forums online.

I can keep going. You probably don’t even remember the guy back in 2007 who shot up a megachurch in Colorado, killing four. He was a member of an anti-Christian site the feds were alerted to hours after the incident. And just recently, there was the unhinged and racist Portland train attacker, who was deemed too intense for a right-wing rally and kept to the internet instead.

Look, I really can’t stress this enough: Nowhere am I saying that the internet is changing sane people into racist lunatics. Nor am I trying to ignore the millions of other factors, like mental health care and gun control, which play into the uptick of spree killings. And to be honest, I can’t even offer a definitive solution beyond personal responsibility and attention toward people around you who may be troubled. But maybe it would be a good start to at least keep a compassionate eye on your friends and family, and be there to let them know that the non-meme world is pretty cool, too. Otherwise this will just continue, and not even our sexy lizards will be safe.

Ironically, follow Dave on his Twitter, where he spends a lot of his time.

Also check out We Asked A Mass Shooter Why The Hell This Keeps Happening and I Hunt Serial Killers: 6 Facts You Thought Movies Made Up.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/5-ways-the-modern-world-makes-mass-murder-easier/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/172012394162