#head empty only evil geniuses

[thetoxicgamer]

American CS:GO squads line up for elimination following brutal IEM Dallas opening day

On May 29, the first day of IEM Dallas 2023 came to an end, with every last American CS:GO roster vying for survival. Unfortunately, only FURIA and 9z won their lower bracket matchups, leaving the struggling region just hanging on to their tournament life. Nouns Esports was the first squad sent packing following swift losses to G2 and FURIA, while one of the five American teams left is destined to leave Dallas empty-handed in their next best-of-three with Evil Geniuses and Complexity meeting in the Group B lower bracket eliminator. As for the rest of the ‘home’ rosters, 9z, Liquid, and FURIA all stare down the barrel of early exits while they prepare for their next match-ups. It’s safe to say it’s not looking good for the region at Dallas. The Evil Geniuses versus Complexity best-of-three launches us into the Americas elimination extravaganza on May 30, with the loser placed 13-16th alongside Nouns and Fnatic. Evil Geniuses came close to avoiding a fall into the lower bracket at all, going down against FaZe Clan in overtime in what would have otherwise been an upset for the ages. Complexity, however, was a different story. Already on the backfoot following visa issues affecting star AWPer Hallzerk, the squad struggled against ENCE despite solid individual performances from floppy and stand-in Sonic. Despite easily brushing aside Nouns, FURIA’s Dallas campaign remains on a knife’s edge ahead of a much tougher second-round opponent in MOUZ. From here on out, it’s win or go home for the Brazilian squad, who will likely head to the player break after the tournament wraps. 9z could also potentially suffer the same fate as FURIA despite managing to push past a stand-in affected Fnatic to book their next match against OG. The South American squad survived a resurgence from Fnatic, who will now fly home just a day or two after arriving for the tournament. North American sweethearts Team Liquid is set to tackle the rag-tag Grayhound lineup in elimination in what is captain nitr0’s final CS:GO tournament with the squad. Liquid will be eager to give their veteran in-game leader the send-off he deserves, but there are no more second chances for the team following a 17-19 overtime loss against historic rivals Astralis. IEM Dallas returns at 11am CT on Tuesday, May 30 with the North American derby between EG and Complexity kicking off a bumper day of eliminations—after which just one or two American squads may remain alive. Read the full article

[devcted]

"dont be cruel reggie, even gingers need pleasure, not everyone can get any girl they want just by flashing a perfect smile and batting his perfect green eyes." she teases. bee was a kind person, or at least she likes to think she is. after all that's the stereotype when talking about hufflepuffs, the one house to have the least among of dark wizards and always more accepting than most unless it came to protecting one of their own or their love for cedric given they'd been giving harry potter hell for weeks now. but she also wasn't going to act like she didn't have things the world she didn't like, like the weasleys. "well hermione granger already has her eye on his brother so I think his pool of potential wives is wearing thin plus that family really has a thing for keeping their hair red. maybe it's a weird gryffindor thing"

she wouldn't be surprised if people saw regulus as competition or a threat, she didn't really know though because she didnt pay attention to the for all she knew they were just as in love as she was and she had more than just daphne greengrass to fight off. she rolls her eyes a bit, knowing the way people view slytherin, every house seems to have it label but only an idiot judges based off house. "some people also think gryffindor are a bunch of heros and ravenclaw are super geniuses. hell, people act like hufflepuff are nothing but sunshine and rainbows till they meet justin. I always liked slytherin because of how close knit you guys are and just because your founder was a bit of a purest doesn't mean you're bad guys." she hums. "in fact I happen to know one slytherin with the purest heart I've ever known and he also smells really good." she teases. bee knew of the rumors about regulus, knew that people believed death eaters were just inherently slytherin but she didn't think that was true, she didn't think there was such thing as only good and only evil. there had to be a balance right?

she smiles warmly as he muses about his brother, she didn't know much about their relationship but if there was one thing she understands more than creatures it was the bond between two siblings. she had been lucky to grow up with cedric, he kept her sane for most of her life and she couldn't imagine missing out on that for any reason. "sirius sounds lovely and if he is anything like you then I'm sure he was a star at hogwarts." she hums. "it must be interesting to have a family member who got to be part of a different house though, sometimes I wonder what if would've been like if I chose slytherin, maybe we would've gotten to do this a lot sooner." she teases. hufflepuff was where she belonged but she recalled the sorting at debating for a moment, bee sharing some qualities that placed her next to regulus snd his peers. "I'd love to meet him one day.

she chuckles at his words however, shaking her head some. "maybe I'll tell you soon, I can't just give you all my dirty secrets in one day regulus. then what would we talk about when we're old and married?" she says in a joking tone, biting down on her lower lip as arms wrap around his shoulders. "I think you're used to getting what you want, so maybe I should make you work for my secrets...I think I can make it worth your while too." she says with a purr, nose nudging his.

he takes off his robe too and she blushes nervously. he looked so...royal and clean. he dressed better than most, certainly better than she ever did. it was sexy on him though because he in the same breath never acted like he was better than anyone else even if he was.

"well, your hands were down by my skirt and you were asking me if I felt good." she purrs at his question as his hands wrap around her again, making her giggle as he picks her up and moves her to the empty desk, her legs wrapping around him as she pulls him in close. his hands move low again, this time slipping against her thigh as she sighs, her fingers coming to wrap around his toe as she pulls him in closer, depending his lazy kiss as she moans against his lips.

he's been friends with bee since last year now but he still doesn't get tired of hearing her commentary on things, from other students to politics to even the latest hogwarts drama. most people would expect her to be too nice to speak on anyone, but regulus knows better. "i don't know if i like the image of percy getting sexual gratification from giving out detentions," he teases, threading his fingers through bee's as they start to walk into the castle. "maybe some girls are into the whole boy scout thing." it's a light jab at the prefect, because despite the fact regulus has no real problems with him, he is still ridiculous a lot of the time.

"you think?" he says, but he already knows she's right. there's theo, for one, and he's sure there are others. he pauses, thinking about her question. "some people don't like slytherins... as a house, we mostly look out for our own, and i think that rubs people the wrong way. that, and some of us aren't very kind to muggleborns." he feels a sting of shame even as he says it, knowing his family is part of the problem. he had never intended to make things worse for them, not realizing until too late that the elitism he was raised by was rooted in a kind of hatred that's dangerous. he understands being proud of your bloodline and the magic in it, but wanting muggleborns dead for being at hogwarts isn't something he ever agreed with.

"anyways, sirius was sorted into gryffindor. i don't know much about his social life when he was here, but he was close friends with harry's father and some others. i think he was well loved, at least amongst his friends." it's kind of nice talking to bee about his brother, even if it feels a little painful too, knowing how much they missed out on and the fact he only knows these things because of their short time together and the anonymous mail they've exchanged.

his lashes flutter shut as she kisses him, stopping in his tracks as she presses one to his cheek too. "i'd like to see what getting somewhere looks like," he says softly, gazing down into her pretty eyes, his fingers tightening in hers. "i don't want to imagine it by myself," he replies, glancing at her lips. "i want you to tell me, in my ear." his voice is a purr, getting lost in her pull again, unable to resist. he's done such a good job for years now, but none of this feels real, making him lose himself a little. they can't go too far, but it wouldn't hurt to kiss, right? to hear her sweet voice, flirting and telling him secrets about how he makes her feel.

she pulls him along, and soon they slip into the room, empty like he predicted. there are empty student desks and also a professor's, accompanied by a squishy looking leather chair. sun is filtering through the windows, illuminating the dust lingering in the room.

he watches her remove her robe, revealing her beautiful figure, dressed in one of the hufflepuff uniforms but with a shorter skirt than usual. his eyes flicker down, looking at her thighs before traveling back to her face. "i don't mind-- you're beautiful."

he unclasps his own robe too, removing it to rest on the desk beside hers. beneath he's wearing a silver, lined tweed suit with the slytherin crest and tie. "where do you remember us leaving off?" he teases, stepping towards her. leaning down, he scoops her up, carrying her easily over to the desk surface. placing her there, his hands slide to the outside of her upper thighs, rubbing at the soft fabric of her skirt. he presses his forehead to hers, their noses brushing as lips seal together in a lazy kiss, tongue dipping into her mouth.

[bunny-rambles]

i do agree that childe is the easy way to go ahah - i mean, i know how to say tartaglia and still call him childe bc tartaglia is a hell of a mouthful :'

oh yes! let's speak about the harbingers!! the ones that shocked me the most when i saw all of them were arlecchino and sandrone - not because of their design or anything, but because both their names and the characters they're associated to are well, distinctly males. not that i mind the extra female harbingers (i think their design look cool!!) but it was very funny to me and my italian friends bc a girl named sandrone is like the equivalent of if you met a cute lil american girl named like, Big Jeff (the -one in sandrone is actually like a particle you add at the end of certain words to mean they're big lol)

as for my personal favourites... while i absolutely adore the restyling of dottore (he looks so hot omg ;;;) my personal favourite has to be pantalone? which is very funny to me again because he's all hot and refined and his name literally means pants lol

also speaking of recent genshin crushes ;;;;; heizou ;;;;;; please i want to date him i've played all his hangouts yesterday and i fell for him so hard (plus on my way to c1 kazuha i got him c5 and he's very strong!!)

2. you actually got the dynamic i imagined super correct ahah!! in that story diluc tried so hard not to banter too much with kaeya when in front of the kids and kaeya just riled him up even more bc he thought it was funny (also the kids LOVED the drama ahah)

i do think you get the characterisation of scara real well so i don't think you should worry about that :33 also i too don't remember which fic it was that i was referencing to in that specific ask but they were both real good ahah

as for me as i have already said i just have problems writing extroverts because they think in a totally different way from how i do :'''

2.1 i wouldn't say i'm a prankster really, my friends say i act like xingqiu because i love books and writing, i am super dramatic and have a pretty strong sense of humour (by which i mean you'll probably see me playfully mocking my friends quite a lot). also i love water and my fave colour is blue so ig there's also that lmao

also i don't think comparing your abilities with albedo's is necessarily fair — he's an artificial human made to emulate perfection, him being well, perfect, was coded into every part of his being. but i do think your vibes and aura and such are similar and for being a flawed human being like we all are, you're talented and perfect as you can be :3

3. ahhh that makes sense. i too like to write down my feelings when i'm not feeling good, i feel like that helps a lot. but i'm glad i can be of help to you in my lil ways - and if you can't imagine a face attached to me, just imagine a big strawberry talking back to you. that'd be fun, wouldn't it? :'''

it's morning here so i'll wish a buongiorno to you and all that :3

love,

- 🍓

If it’s a mouthful for you, I have no hope ;;;

1. Oh my god, really? That’s hilarious she’s the least threatening one there lmfao. Maybe the big could refer to that giant ruin guard she was sat on? But it’s still pretty funny. I still giggle at the fact that Xiao apparently means small and my lil baby is absolutely tiny.

1.1. THANK YOU OH MY GOD I LOVE DOTTORE’S NEW DESIGN !! I understand he’s bad n everything but I can’t help it I am on my knees in defeat for him oh my GOD. If evil why hot T^T. Pantalone meaning pants lmfao poor guy but yeah I like him too. I like slimy bastards and he’s definitely one of them, and you just know when those eyes open he’s being really serious or he’s really pissed off (and that’s really hot OTL) still, I think he looks extremely similar to Baizhu, so we’ll see how long my simping lasts bc I’m really not into that green haired guy, he’s slimy but in a different way I do NOT trust him.

Ah yes, Heizou. He is extremely charming but unfortunately I haven’t even tried his hangout, I want to get this event done first. But I love his play style now that is entertaining to play with. His voice lines are also pretty interesting and I’m twirlin my hair n stuff when he laughs hehehe he’s very charming indeed. ( nice ! I’m not interested in cons but I’m so sad I can’t at least c1 my Kazuha since I don’t have that many wishes left (17 :( when I had well over 180 at one point ): got Klee though so I’m happy, needed to give my alchemist his lil sister AND I really needed a pyro dps because Diluc refuses to show up :/ )

2. I think I would love to have you as a friend in person, you sound so fun I love dramatic people and I also love people who have good humour, and my favourite colour is blue too !! Mainly a nice soft pastel blue :,) so more icy coloured (that test did say I was Chongyun, it makes sense that you would be Xingqui)

2.1. I’ve never really seen myself as perfect in any way, nor did I think about the fact that Albedo really does have it programmed in him to be utmost perfection, and having a ‘flaw’ on his neck is the only real way for him to be human so he’s not too perfect that it’s uncanny. Thank you for calling me that, because that really does mean a lot to me. I’m not good at receiving compliments so I always sound dry when I get one, but truthfully I think about those words every time I doubt myself or feel bad. Thank you :,) (also our vibes are pretty similar, I am rather soft sometimes and like to be away from people just so I can focus and be happy by myself. We also both like being around snow so we are pretty similar <3)

3. It’s definitely become a thing now, I’ve had two comfort fics in the last week published and I seem to write better when I’m upset. Although I did take a quiz once and it said I write out of alienation. It’s actually quite accurate, I write when I feel miserable or lonely or inspired. It helps. Sometimes anyway, if I’m not too critical of it when it comes out. Hehe giant strawberry, like that one from that movie,,, what was it,,, something about food,,, OH RIGHT YEAH - Cloudy with a chance of meatballs 2, that big cute strawberry I can just hold to my chest all the time <33

ti voglio bene, dearest

[gravity-lifts]

☾ - sleep headcanon ■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon ♡ - romantic headcanon ♥ - family headcanon ൠ - random headcanon with checkateva maybe?

☾ - They joke that they’re the perfect people to all sleep in a bed together due to their sleeping positions (Chess sleeps on her back, Kate on her front, and Eva on her side) and they all sleep kinda piled up with Kate laying on top of Chess and Eva curled into Chess’s side with on arm over top of both Chess and Kate. Both Kate and Eva’s sleep schedules improved drastically once the three of them moved in together because they all end up going to bed at the same time in order to not wake Chess up when they get to bed.

■ - They live in a three-bedroom apartment while they’re in college, and for a bit after. They only really use one bedroom, so one of the remaining two is a guest room and the other is a hobby room (it has a bunch of gymnastics equipment in it for when Kate has too much energy and doesn’t want to go outside). Once they save up enough money they buy a nice, smallish house nearer to Kate and Eva’s jobs (Chess works from home, she’s a writer) and with the house comes two cats and a dog as they couldn’t have any pets in their apartment building.

♡ - They all have physical touch as a love language, so the amount of time that they just spend cuddling is astronomical. They’ve also worked out a system for telling each other “I love you” which is just three taps/hand squeezes/kisses before they leave home/hearts on a note/emojis in a text message, and that’s happening almost constantly.

♥ - None of them want kids, so their family is mostly them and their pets, however, they definitely have a huge found family dynamic with all of their friends.

ൠ - They have an enormous amount of inside jokes, but sometimes they mix up who else knows the joke and end up confusing one of them (usually Eva, as Chess and Kate had many, many years to create inside jokes before they met her, but she and Kate are big enough dumbasses that they have a lot together as well. Kate’s in on almost all of the inside jokes, and she’s the worst at remembering who’s in on them)

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

They sat across from each other in the hallway, the sound of Maddie Fenton's shouting was muffled through the door of the principal's office.

Wes leaned back with his arms crossed as Walter Weston's voice broke through the noise, issuing an attempt at an apology that seemed to fall on deaf ears as the yelling continued.

"Your son might think it's just some funny joke, but I will not have anyone accusing my son of being that lying, manipulative, piece of ectoplasmic scum!"

Danny sank lower in his chair, face tightening with every word.

"You know they wouldn't say that stuff if they knew the truth." said Wes, cutting into the tense air between them.

Danny's head thumped back against the wall as he rolled his eyes.

"You cannot possibly be that fucking dense." Danny's voice was strained with frustration.

Wes felt heat flood into his cheeks as his chest coiled with anger.

"Well it's true." he spat. "They wouldn't think Phantom's a monster if they knew he was you."

Danny's nose wrinkled in an expression of mild disgust.

"For the most observant guy in school you are unbelievably blind."

"Oh I'm blind?" the squeak of Wes' sneakers echoed down the empty hall as he stood over the other boy. "You're the one who can't see how much easier your life would be if you just told everyone who you really are. But no, you have to keep it this big secret just so you can feel special, because you just wanna keep playing superhero."

He jabbed a finger in Danny's face as vibrant blue eyes glared up at him through dark bangs.

"You're choosing to get detention for missing classes, you're choosing to get beaten up by Dash all the time. You're choosing to be the least popular guy in school when you could turn it all around overnight if you wanted. You're choosing to listen to your parents talk shit about you-"

Danny's fist didn't race up to grab Wes by the collar, Wes simply blinked and cold fingers were suddenly curled around the neck of his basketball uniform.

"Have you even remotely considered that telling the professional ghost hunters that I live with that I'm part ghost might not be the best idea? My mom is literally yelling about how much they want to tear me open right now."

Wes couldn't help but notice that that was, in fact, exactly what she was currently yelling about.

"They wouldn't do that." Wes scoffed, batting Danny's hand away, it was like hitting a marble statue that only decided to move out of politeness. "They're your parents, they wouldn't hurt you."

"Are you sure about that?" Danny asked, Wes wasn't exactly sure when he got up from his chair, but they were standing face to face now. "Would you bet your life on it?"

Wes suddenly felt rather cold, but he refused to let Danny see him flustered.

"No, but I wouldn't go around betting my life on anything," Wes smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt collar. "That's just stupid."

"Then why," Danny grit his teeth hard, "Are you so comfortable betting mine."

Wes opened his mouth to retort but suddenly found himself at a loss for words as Danny's question sank in and the cold chill in the room ran sharply down his spine.

They wouldn't really hurt him. He was sure of it, they were his parents. They would never, he was sure.

Would he bet his life on it?

"There's about three things that can happen if I tell my parents." said Danny, wandering slightly down the hall, looking down at his shoes. "One, they believe me, they put aside an entire lifetime of prejudice and accept me for who I am, hooray!" he shook his hands in a rather sarcastic gesture of mock celebration.

"Two!" he continued before Wes could interject. "They believe me, but they think of Phantom as some kind of disease, something that should be gotten rid of, something they can cure."

He turned on his heel to face Wes once again, holding up three fingers.

"Three... they don't believe me. They think Phantom is controlling me, or he's killed me and taken my place, that this is just some evil plot to manipulate them. They try to kill me."

Danny shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at a piece of rubbish on the floor.

"Which means I only have a one in three chance of things going okay, and that's being generous and ignoring all of the other things that could go wrong. I don't like those odds, Wes."

Wes swallowed hard. He hadn't thought of it like that, he hadn't even considered it at all, but one in three? That didn't seem right.

"What do you mean one in three?" Wes asked, "Only one of those was really bad, what's wrong with them finding a cure? You hate being Phantom."

Danny looked up at him with a surprised expression, before frowning hard.

"I don't hate being Phantom, and it wouldn't matter if I did. Phantom is a part of me, I can't get rid if it. The last time I managed to split my ghost half from my human half it took half of my personality with it, and if I'd stayed that way for too long both sides of me would have died, for good."

"You don't know that it's impossible." said Wes, refusing to back down out of pure stubbornness at this point, even though the conversation was leaving a sour taste in his mouth. "Your parents are geniuses, if anyone could figure it out they could."

"Wes," Danny rubbed a hand over his face, looking very tired. "I asked the most powerful omniscient ghost I know if it was possible, there isn't a single timeline where I survive a permanent split. It can't be done, and I don't want it to be done."

"But why?!" Wes' arms opened in a desperately questioning gesture. "You don't even use it for anything! All you do is fight ghosts and lie to everyone! Why would you want that?!"

"It doesn't matter why." Danny hissed. "This is my life, my body. I get to choose what I do with it, and I should get to choose who I tell about it instead of having some selfish prick outing me to everyone without warning!"

"He WHAT?!"

The boys both turned around to find Mrs Fenton and Mr Weston standing in the doorway to the office. Maddie had a hand over her mouth, and Walter's jaw was hanging from his head.

"Did he just say what I think he said?" Walter asked.

"Yes! Finally! Dad he's-"

"You outed him?" Walter grabbed Wes by the shirt and marched him down the hallway. "You can't just do that sort of thing with someone's personal life! The ghost thing is bad enough but this-"

"What?" Wes' eyes widened as he realised what his dad was saying, "Wait, no! That's not what we were talking about-"

"We are going to have a very serious talk about this." Walter turned around, still shoving Wes ahead of him. "Mrs Fenton, Danny. I am so, so sorry about this, all of this."

Maddie slipped a hand over Danny's shoulder and squeezed as the Westons disappeared down the hall.

"Did he really tell everyone about that too?" Maddie asked in a dark tone. "If anything happens to you because of this I'll-"

"It's fine mom, it's fine." Danny assured her. "It doesn't matter what he says. Nobody ever believes him anyway."

He really hoped Wes learned something from that conversation, but somehow he doubted it would change anything.

[babbushka]

So we know that agent and bond villian Kylo don't say the L word and don't talk much about the future for practical reasons. But you can't tell me that kylo doesn't have a vision for the future when Agent isn't an agent anymore and he can really be with her. What do you envision he thinks that future looks like???

Contrary to popular belief, it seems to Kylo that all he ever thinks about, is what life might be like when you retire.

He phrases it like that in his head, because he knows he can never retire, there isn't much retiring from this life other than inside a prison cell. And he has no desire to be locked away for his crimes, even though they are plentiful.

He feels for you, his 007, so strongly. He has it all planned out, a million little fantasies all playing behind his eyelids when he dreams in his big empty penthouses and mansions, wishing he could hear you gently snoring into the pillow beside him.

Some of the fantasies are of the power you could wield together, the way you would turn the hands of governments, of nations, shifting the tides of politics and economy to make you both rich rich rich.

Some of the fantasies are less grand, more quiet. A modest home in a suburb with children who go to the elementary school down the way, bringing home drawings of the parents who love them so much.

He's been having more and more of those, lately, but he knows that's just because he's getting old.

Kylo wonders what the cut off point is, when an Agent stops being an Agent. He wonders if there ever is one, if it's like the same life he lives -- once you're in it, there's no getting out. It's a contract you sign, written in blood.

He knows that the two of you could never be normal, but he doesn't want normal. He wants you, in whatever way he can have you. If that means right now, the only way he can have you is in stolen weekends, crashed parties and evil plots, then he'll take it.

But when he lies awake on top of the world, wishing he had you to share it with all the time, he knows soon that won't be enough. He'll want to marry you, kiss you and hold you and make love to you all the time, little evil geniuses and secret agents running around shooting at each other with scary precision.

In times like these, he resigns to find you in the morning, as he always does, and interrupt your plans, like he always is wont to do, and see if he can't just convince you to run away with him this time.

Taggin' some Kylo lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip

[ithymedit]

Has anyone ever thought of making a Criminal AU for Hermitcraft season 8? Like come on, the pieces are (mostly) all there. Gigantic groups with conflicts of interests? One is a business conglomerate composed of two redstone geniuses and three fantastic builders? A different business with insanely efficient farms and a fuckton of resources? Another one that gives access and bets on favors and IOUs? One that is just straight up called the Evil Empire? This is prime material here.

Like imagine a dreary dark rainy night, a man is limping away. He takes a seat in an empty alley, sitting just below a fire escape, raindrops periodically hitting his head. He grits his teeth and pulls back his trousers to see a bullet hole in his calf, blood oozing from the wound. His vision goes dizzy and bile rises up into his throat. He’s so tired.

From around the corner, he hears the sound of footsteps coming closer. He could hear the splashes from puddles as they step into them. Seems like its not his fate to live past today. As it gets closer, he pray under his breath for forgiveness for everything he has done. For killing all those people, for regretting those killings, and for him to betray the Boss. If only he were smarter, he would manage to live another day.

His forces his eyes to see the man above him. Shrouded in darkness save for his bionic eye. The boys called him the Blue-Eyed Reaper. Since that was the only thing he would see before he would die. Just a bright blue eye above him, looking at him, judging him. He thinks he should’ve let the man kill him when he heard he was targeted, but he was delusional, thought he could escape. He hears a gun click, and he knows its the end. He closes his eyes, and counts sheep.  

Thankfully, he doesn’t hear the gun go off.

And there lies Jesse, shot dead in an alley. Never to be mentioned again. Not by his compatriots, not by his family. He was already a dead man walking before he started to atone.

Like??? that would be dope as hell. anyway im gonna go write that probably.

[adhdeancas]

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven

Special thanks to James @friedchickenangelwings for helping me out with this story. I can’t wait to write this. Read on AO3 here

Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.

Chapter One: Runnin’ on Empty

“Well, Cas helped.”

Dean’s heart flutters at that and he looks at Bobby. The damn old man raises his eyebrows; he knows he just buried the lead and he did it on purpose. A soft breath escapes him and he smiles. Maybe this is gonna be alright after all. Hell, maybe he can find that angel and…

“It’s a big new world out there. You’ll see.” 

Dean’s stomach twists at the idea. I don’t wanna see. His stupid brain insists. He takes a swig of the beer in his hand to try to quiet the voice. “Oh, wow.” He recoils a bit and looks at it. “This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.” He shares a wry smile with Bobby. Drinks with Dad weren’t exactly top-tier, and they both knew it.

“Quality stuff?” 

Dean’s smiling because he feels like he should be. “Nah, it’s crap.” He tries to shift that memory into a good thing, because his memory of his first beer is the crushing doubt and fear that swirled around his head. Finally, he’d done something right enough to earn a beer like a Man, but he still felt… broken. 

He feels the same now.

Maybe it’s because he’d really just wanted a hug.

But Bobby is waiting for him to say something. Dean focuses instead on the surface-level joy of that old mid-evening beer, the pride in his dad’s eyes, trying to drum up the feeling. “But it was fantastic.” 

“Just like this.”

“It’s almost perfect.” Dean manages. He wants Bobby to agree. He wants Bobby to say ‘Yeah, I know, something just ain’t right, can’t put my finger on it,’ but he doesn’t. He lets the silence drag on for a second longer before he fills it.

“He’ll be along.” Dean’s heart jumps, but then he realizes he’s talking about Sam. Not Cas. But he doesn’t want Sam up here anytime soon; he wants Sam to live a nice life with Eileen, like he promised. “Time up here, it’s different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

It kinda feels like when Jack was born and Cas was dead and Sam wanted to go to strip clubs and listen to Zeppelin and eat at the greasiest holes-in-the-wall. Like he had everything he was supposed to want laid right out in front of him, but… none of it made Dean feel anything. He looks around, searching for inspiration, and his eyes land on home. Things always look clearer when he's looking out at ‘em through Baby’s windshield. “I think I’ll go for a drive.” 

“Have fun.” 

He leaves the acrid beer with Bobby and climbs into his car. Maybe he’s insane, but she feels.. different. He is insane. He is in heaven. “Get it together, Dean.” he mutters to himself as he pulls away. Bobby mentioned that his parents are nearby but… Dean doesn't want to face that yet. Nothing to fix your existential crisis about Heaven like a neat talk with your disappointed parents. 

He keeps to the main road instead. He drives for an hour, maybe two, at least that’s what it feels like. From what Bobby said, time isn’t so straightforward here. That only scares him a little bit. Eventually, his brain seems to calm down enough to think clearly. He’d chosen this. He’d accepted this. And he’d meant what he’d said in that barn; he was okay with dying. Of course, he didn’t realize that meant… He didn’t realize that meant more. 

A little voice inside him whispers something evil. He’d just wanted to see Cas again. Even in memories. Like it was before…

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna fuck it up. It’s heaven. I can’t fuck it up in heaven, right?” He laughs out loud to himself, but it’s cut off by Baby groaning underneath him. She starts to slow. “Baby? What the hell?”

She’s out of gas.

Dean grumbles as he pulls over. “Sonuvvabitch, what the-” He almost said what the hell. He’s in heaven. Nothing in hell. Heh. She rolls to a stop and he kills the engine, letting the new silence and stillness wash over him. He sighs. Heaven, huh?

He scrubs a hand across his back and looks over to his right, to an onion field. Yellow and pokey and-

Cas is standing in the middle of it. 

Dean just about has a heart attack. He scrambles out of the car, honks Baby’s horn in the process, is all the way around the car by the time he really sees him.

Cas looks terrible. He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the field, arms down at his sides, crumpled trench coat speckled with the black sludge that haunts Dean’s nightmares. His hair is matted, his face gaunt, eyes sunken in with bags dark as bruises. But what scares Dean the most is the look in his eyes. His eyelids droop and hang and he stares straight ahead, straight at Dean, without seeing him, without any light in them at all. 

It doesn’t look like Cas. 

“Cas?” Dean approaches slowly, hands held out like he would to a wild animal. Cas shows no sign of moving, just stands there. “Cas, look at me, man,” There’s pleading in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He needs Cas to be okay. 

Castiel is not okay. 

As Dean gets closer, he starts to hear screams and crashes. He twists around to look for the source, but it just seemed to come from… around Cas. He looks closer, and Cas’s hands move to fend something off he can’t see. He’s still just staring ahead, but, looking closer at Cas’s face, he sees something he hadn’t noticed before. 

Cas is talking. Well, muttering really. Dean can barely hear him through the pauses in far-off yells. “d-Dea-Dean. Dean- de-Dean.” Dean stomach drops off a cliff. “Dean, just think of… D-du-Dean.” 

“I’m here, Cas.” Fuck the rasp in his voice. Fuck the tears in his eyes. Cas can’t hear him. He can tell by the look in his eyes. “FUCK!” 

He rubs his eyes with his fists furiously. This is so frustrating, this is so-

There is no one there. No sound. Cas is gone. 

Dean strides ahead, but it’s no use. The field is empty, and he is alone. Again. 

It takes Dean a few minutes before he can get himself under control. Cas isn’t there; he has to assume he never had been, not really. So, unless Dean has finally gone off the deep end, it was… what, a vision? A- god, it felt familiar. It felt like - it felt like after purgatory. The same haunted face, the same unseeing eyes. Gone in a blink.

Why am I seeing you again, man? 

But, as sure as he is that there is grass on the ground, he knows Cas can’t hear him.

Dean sits up against his fender and sighs. On the one hand, he is sitting on warm clear asphalt, feeling the afternoon sun bake his face, and on the other, he is miserable and seeing his dead-alive-again best friend. Except if Cas was around, he would come see him. Right? I mean, Dean died. So young. And Cas just told him- 

And Dean is praying to him. And he’s not here. It’s not right. None of it is. That he is sure about. If this was heaven, he didn’t want it.

Dean gets up. Will he ever get some motherfucking peace? He gets in his car, tries the ignition. She starts up again and - miracle of miracles - has gas. He thanks her with a pat and they're off, riding into the eerily-perfect sunset, back the way they came.

Night’s fallen by the time he pulls into the dirt pathway. He parks on the lawn and shivers a little bit in the chill of the night. Funny, he wouldn’t think Heaven got cold. But then again, he wouldn’t have thought Heaven would be shitty either. The roadhouse is inviting and homey, lights on inside. Dean snags a beer from the cooler left out front and kicks the door open softly. “Hello?” He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it definitely wasn’t who he gets. 

“Dean!” Charlie wraps him in a hug before he can say anything, and Dean gladly melts into it. God, it’s good to see her. He pulls away and pats her cheek, checking her out. She looks good, normal. Less… dead and bloody than he last saw her? Jesus his mind is a dark place. 

“Hey kid! How the hell are you?” 

Charlie rolls her eyes at the greeting, but she can’t stop grinning. “All things considering, y’know, being dead and all, I’m good!” 

Dean laughs. She’s already rambling, and he missed her. “Sorry about that one,” he winces, remembering his part in the circumstances around her death. 

Charlie chooses to take it as a condolences. “Yeah, you too, dude. But at least we died young and hot, right?” She tugs him over to the bar and leans around to yell at the scuffed doorway. “Ash! We got company?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Ash? You guys know each other?” 

“Can’t keep geniuses like us apart, compadre,” Dr. BadAss comes out of his backroom, arms spread out in greeting. Dean can’t stop himself from greeting him with a hug. He hadn’t known who to expect here, but Ash and Charlie are just about best case scenario. “What’re you doing here?” 

Dean knows he means how he died, but he looks around anyway. The rest of the bar is quiet and still, and Dean can hear nothing outside the heavy doors either. “I think we gotta problem, Ash.” 

Ash’s face folds into a frown. “What kinda problem?” Dean feels Charlie press in and he glances at her suddenly-serious face. 

“A big one. A heaven sized one.” They all looked around skeptically, a little Scooby-Doo-like, taking in the lifeless room around them. Finally, Ash meets Dean’s eyes, and Dean withdraws a little. 

“Yeah, we know. Welcome to the team, Deano.” 

Tag list: @dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat

[pricechecktranslations]

OSS: Crime; Chapter 4-Project “Ma” -Seth-

Original Sin Story: Crime infomine under the cut

Scene 1

Basically just Seth’s lines from the song, though note that when he talks about Adam disappearing he refers to him as “my adorably foolish child”.

Scene 2

Seth only ever saw Gammon’s rebellion as being a result of desperation. Apparently it was unexpectedly successful, though, as the senate (including Miroku) had grown too complacent. Seth doesn’t mind—he’s gotten tired of messing with Miroku, and Adam (who he was curious over) has fled the stage.

Scene 3

So, the revolution is underway in this scene. Seth is waiting for Gammon in front of the LeviaBehemo temple. Gammon arrives in the garden with pitiful Miroku in tow, throwing him in front of him (he’s a mess but he’s still breathing). Gammon dismisses him as a mere drugged up madman now. Seth, as ever, is calm and a complete troll about it, despite the fact that Gammon knows Miroku is like this because of Seth.

Gammon approaches him with a gun in hand. Seth (hands up) asks him to explain what his research found out—so that he can correct him if Gammon got anything wrong.

Note that Seth’s entire demeanor comes across (to me) as being amused and not taking this all that seriously.

Gammon’s theory: Seth became Miroku’s servant over twenty years ago. Along with Miroku, they developed a drug to brainwash Maria with—except in truth, it wasn’t Maria that was being drugged, but Miroku himself, so that Seth could rule through him. As for Maria—she was already dead (Gammon’s not sure if she just died or was murdered). Miroku has been having purple dreams, and passing them off as the queen’s prophecies. However, he’s been brainwashed into thinking that these prophecies are really coming from the queen, and that she’s still alive.

Gammon has no proof of his theory, though, so that’s why he’s come here to see her corpse for himself. He pistol whips Seth out of the way and heads inside.

Seth’s narrative wonders what Gammon will see in the temple, and what will become of him once he’s come face to face with the “queen” (I think this suggests that Gammon’s theory is correct in some regard but also missing some key information). Seth meanwhile goes to a corner of the garden and opens a secret passageway buried in the dirt.

Right as he enters, he can hear someone screaming from inside the temple.

Scene 4

Seth reflects on things.

He first met Adam when he was tasked when throwing him in the river as a newborn baby. Him eventually saving him (and his twin sister) was part of his efforts to increase his “allies”. Through Miroku he met Vaju, and through him became the head of the research institute, where he began to build his “ally” network. He would sometimes apply Venom for this purpose, though as the drug had several failings he tried not to rely on it too heavily.

He wanted to see what happened with the twins once things calmed down, but he had a problem: his health was declining, so he couldn’t just be running all over the place. So, he entrusted one of the twins with Raiou, telling him to leave apocalypse and go fetch her (Eve). He then went himself to go find Adam (he was also a bit surprised to run into Catherine there).

This was his first time raising a child—he tried to raise him to be someone who had Seth’s favored “emptiness” (I’m not sure what he means by this exactly—I assume it means that the emotional starvation he employed was deliberate).

It was a busy time—he was building his network, running the institute, drugging Miroku, and had to solve the issue of his health going downhill. For the last problem, he researched this in Lunaca Labora, where he was “born as a human”. His current body was inferior to human ones—it aged at a much faster rate.

As he’s a genius, he was soon able to make a new, longer lasting type of body he could use. Pleased with his success, he made two other Ghoul Children (clones of himself) while he was at it, as another test in increasing his allies (giving them personalities based on his own). One was a failure, which he put in refrigeration in case of an emergency (I assume he means as a backup body), and the other was a success. This Ghoul Child became Pale Noel. He entrusted Apocalypse (now that it was abandoned by Raiou) to Pale. Pale is still active to this day.

…Of course, Pale is such a terror that Seth’s own position could have been put in jeopardy, so he ordered Pale to keep from showing himself publicly and instead work behind the scenes. He then expunged all the information on Pale from his info network. After that he went to Raiou and erased the memories he had of his appearance (? I’m not sure if I’m misunderstanding something or if Seth really does have the ability to selectively erase memories—maybe it’s another thing he used Venom for).

Of course, this didn’t really erase the mistrust that Raiou had towards Horus (the identity that Seth had been going by this entire time). Just memories of what he looks like.

His body was starting to fail then, so he decided to retire the Horus identity. He went back to Lunaca Labora and transferred his mind into the new, complete body. He could have changed the face but apparently it was just too handsome to mess with. As for still looking like Pale, he figured he could just tell people they were twins.

He decided to drop the false identities and go by his real name, Seth Twiright. He spent some time in Lunaca Labora while he waited for the excitement regarding Pale to die down, making more Ghoul Children. But he also didn’t want to make the same problem with Pale being identical to him. So he decided to make some that were completely new, different in face and gender—clones, but also not clones. This makes him think of Behemo (basically comparing himself to his work).

Seth actually says something profound—even geniuses have failures. Rather, being a genius in the first place is because you learn from your failures. He made a Ghoul Child (he lists this as his third) that was a different person, putting an “inheritor” power in her for good measure. The moment he gave her a personality she became rebellious, and as soon as he took his eyes off her she escaped Lunaca.

He was unable to find her for a while, but eventually received word that Pale had found her. She is also apparently very submissive to Pale, which stupefies him because Pale is a clone of him (despite her being rebellious towards Seth himself). He decides to leave her with Pale.

The way he talks about Adam sounds almost like he views him as a plaything. He gets tired of making Ghoul Children (I don’t know if he only made Meta or if there are others he made after her that don’t get mentioned—presumably there must be, given Keel and the others), and then goes to meet with Adam again as Seth. He recalls having fun the time Adam tried to kill him at Merrigod, though he was a bit flummoxed that Meta genuinely attempted to kill him along with the other researchers.

Seth was very intrigued by Adam, and even sought to make him “evil” like himself. But Adam has quit the field—though in a way, Seth views that as “evil” too. As for Eve—Cain and Abel’s deaths were not his fault. He didn’t care one way or the other if they were born. They died because their blood (I don’t know if he means literal blood or blood as in genes) was too concentrated—being the result of a brother-sister match reduced their survival rate.

Additionally, Seth lied when he told Adam that he derived Venom from a dead Levia inheritor. In truth, he took it from a baby—Eve. Eve, who is Adam’s younger twin sister. And Venom has no effect on Levia inheritors. Of course—he doesn’t feel obligated to tell Adam that.

[tessatechaitea]

Batman Loves Superman #2

Hey DC! Stop portraying people who laugh as pure evil!

I don't know what genius centrist character speaks first in this comic book but fuck them.

People love to make statements that make them sound above it all. Statements that let them get away with sounding like a logical and rational person while really exposing the terrible things they believe. "Weapons are only tools." The "only" in that statement speaks volumes. They're defending weapons. Weapons are neutral. They're beyond blame. They're innocuous. Their follow-up statement providing evidence to bolster the first statement, "means to an end," shows that they don't give a fuck about context. What "end" are you trying to reach if your tools are weapons? Silverware are only tools as well, a means to an end, but we know that the end reached by silverware almost certainly is simply an empty tub of ice cream as opposed to a school full of murdered children. Oh no! Look at me bringing up murdered children to play on the emotions of the audience! How dare I bring in a real world example of an end that the means of these mere tools brings about! If your defense of weapons are that they're simply tools to be used to reach a particular end, you can't just ignore that the "end" you're discussing in the most general terms is violence. Weird that people who can't wait to be attacked so they can kill somebody and prove that their choice to carry a weapon was the right one often try to distance themselves from the inherent violence of their beloved weapon. The person speaking is Commissioner Gordon who laughed last issue so he's obviously a monster. I guess he's trying to point out that the real evil has been locked away at Arkham and the tools the evil people used aren't dangerous on their own which is why they've been locked in an armory outside Gotham City. He's come to liberate them with the help of a mystery person who has a sort of claw hand (Black Condor?!). A good writer would reveal who it was because they know that would get the reader really excited about Batman and Superman's confrontation with them. A good writer continually gives up surprising information. A mediocre writer hides as much as possible from the reader because it's the only way they can make a story suspenseful. Meanwhile, Shazam has begun calling himself "Earth's Mightiest Nightmare." See, he usually calls himself "Earth's Mightiest Mortal" so you can see how hilarious his wordplay is. But don't laugh because you don't want to appear wicked to the people around you.

Bullshit. Batman absolutely wants to fight him.

Shazam uses his magic lightning to try to destroy Batman but Batman just dodges because he probably trained with Himalayan Lightning Dodgers years ago. When Shazam uses his magic for evil, The Phantom Stranger's nose bleeds and Zatanna gets severe cramps. I guess magic in the DC Universe is like the Force in Star Wars. It's disturbing and shit. Superman almost gets the upper hand but, as I pointed out how the exciting battle might go last issue, Shazam turns back into Billy Batson to remind Superman he's fighting a child. So Superman is all, "Aw, shucks! I didn't mean nothing! You can fight it, Billy! Stop finding things funny!" But then Shazam is all, "SHAZAM! Fooled you!", and Superman is all, "D'oh!", and Batman is all, "SMDH." But remember! Batman is the king of the DC Universe! So he's definitely got a way to stop Shazam. I bet he's got a Bat-Monkey's Paw in his belt with two wishes left on it. Batman doesn't like to talk about the first wish and why Alfred now has to care for that tiny pianist living in the terrarium in the study. Batman doesn't use his Bat-Monkey's Paw to save the day but if you thought that idea was completely ludicrous, you'd better prepare your mind for Joshua Williamson's solution.

Batman finds the Batman Who Laughs Batwing, flies it up in the sky where Superman and Shazam are battling, and then, um, I don't know. He launches himself out the cockpit window against the g-forces of the accelerating Batwing? I suppose Batman learned to do this while training with the Sheep Hoppers of Aberdeen?

Um. Wait a second. Is Batman the greatest detective or am I because I think I just solved the mystery of the six heroes turned into Heroes Who Laugh.

The poison batarangs all have the symbols of the hero they're meant to infect on them! Just look more closely at the molds you found, idiots!

Shazam escapes because Superman held back and because Superman had to save Batman after Batman thought he could beat Shazam by crashing through the sturdy glass of a jet's cockpit while it was accelerating while only having a boomerang as a weapon. I guess Batman is only as smart as the writer writing him. He should have used his fucking Bat-Monkey's Paw. Later at the Bermuda Triangle Fortress of Solitude, Batman and Superman note that each Batarang Who Laughs has been infused with a specific Batman Who Laughs Juice based on the DNA of the intended victim. What they don't notice is that the Shazam one was a lightning bolt on it and the Superman one has the Kryponian symbol for hope (I know. Lame back story on the "S" on Supe's chest) on it and that they found the fucking molds for six Batarangs Who Laugh. Which means the answer to who else has been infected is in their stupid hands! Unless I'm supposed to believe that the symbols were carved onto the Batarangs Who Laugh after the fact. Which I totally don't even though that would probably be the way to do it seeing as how you're probably going to want to eventually make more than just six heroes laugh. My real opinion on this situation is that Joshua Williamson didn't actually think it through very well. Batman and Superman don't know what to do so they decide to pretend Superman was infected by Shazam. Shazam knows he didn't infect Superman but I'm sure he won't say anything to the Good Guys Who Laugh and ruin Batman and Superman's surprise when Superman goes undercover to work with the Batman Who Laughs. I'm sure failing to infect Superman so that Superman would have to pretend he's the Superman Who Laughs and thus free the Batman Who Laughs so he can find out the Batman Who Laughs plans is totally the Batman Who Laughs' plan. Because whatever the heroes do to stop the bad guys in the beginning of a story is always exactly what the bad guy knew the good guy would do. They're evil geniuses, remember! And Batman and Superman fell for it! Batman Loves Superman #2 Rating: C. If you didn't read this comic book yourself for a real world example, let me tell you how a mediocre writer writes a comic book: first, the bad guy attacks the heroes rather than doing something criminal or evil while trying to avoid the attention of the heroes. That's because a mediocre writer doesn't know how to write heroes discovering crimes being committed and instead need the villain to wave a lot and shout and say, "Hey! Jerks! I'm doing crime!" Or, better yet, have the criminal's entire plan simply be "I will antagonize the heroes for petty vengeance!" After that, the heroes will fail to stop the criminal. Depending on how long the story is, the heroes will either have to redouble their efforts and super believe in themselves to rally and win the day or the heroes will begin plans to defeat the villain. If they begin plans which make them seem like they're getting the upper hand, those plans will always be exactly what the villain wanted to happen in the first place. The heroes will then be defeated again just when they thought they were going to win! At that point, they'll probably need to do the rallying thing where they just fight a little bit harder than they did before and believe a little bit more than they believed before to show their strength of character and will. Because good always has stronger will and greater strength of character than evil! I really wish a writer would simply come up with a genius plan by the villain that isn't simply the villain saying, "They're falling right into my plans," after whatever the fuck bullshit the writer wrote. How these evil geniuses can plan such complicated and intricate plans that rely on knowing exactly what every hero is going to do is beyond my limited comprehension. I might even say it's contrived bullshit!

[pearlsartblog2019]

Monster Verse AU: Part Five

SPG  Monster Verse AU: Part Five 

Notes: Notes: Don’t own SPG… all of those lovelies belong to the bennetts and co. I just do strange things in stories with the characters for fun. 

Don’t own Sprocket  Or Dex they be long to the very awesome: https://spg-fanbot-cousins.tumblr.com/

Pearl is my own character and is used in this and several other stories. Time period note : This is the start of the part of the story which is set in modern times.. The year is about 2018-early 2019. Hope you like! Enjoy the show..

   Honestly.. The night had started out normal enough her new lil human Cousin Specter playing happily on his Pappa’s web. Somehow managing to not stick to the thing and spending time with her other Cousin Dex in his rolly polly wolf form. 

Nothing odd or sinister here at all.

But no.. she realized.. That wasn’t quite right. One of the quartet was missing. 

The batch of mischief makers that kept all the older members of the walter clan on their respective monstrous toes, Was nowhere to be found.  Indeed Sprocket realized she hadn't seen her younger sister in several days. SO either she was upset about something, or something else was wrong. 

She uncolied her long silver tail from its “arm chair” position and headed for the door. 

Both of her aunts were out in the hallway having a quiet conversation that she just barely caught the tail end of.

“No,” Aunt rabbit said, “he’s not seen her in days and Spine is worried to death.”

“So she’s hiding?” Aunt Upgrade asked, “did she and the other kids have a fight?”

Rabbit shook her head, “no the kids have been fine. Getting along great actually for a change. Spine think’s its something else.. Something worse. He’s afraid…”

“Of what?” Sprocket demanded of her two aunts, “What’s Dad afraid of and what’s it got to do with Pearl?”

The two older monster bots, A Kitsune and Succubus respectively got worried looks on their faces.

“Sprocket, honey, “ upgrade told her, “I think you might need to talk to your dad about it 

Kiddo. Something bad might be wrong with your sister. “

“What?” Sprocket demanded, “Wrong like how?” The lil naga snarled. 

“Wrong like she might be sick honey,” Her aunt continued, “Really sick you and yer dad need to find her as fast as you can."

Suddenly any good feelings were gone and the Naga girl turned and slithered away as fast as her tail could carry her. Away from the tv/ sitting room and in the direction of her little sister's room.

her baby sister Pearl was like their father. Truth is Sprocket was adopted, which is why a high level Vampire like the Spine had a naga child. But no differences had ever been made between the two lil girls. Pearl having been born after the dashing Vampire Lord saved the lil silver naga from the streets. 

Spine had gone away to help deal with a pack of monster hunters in the orient that were harassing some of his people. When the silver vampire lord had returned from the trip a year later.. it had been with his second daughter in his arms, and a heart broken by her mother having died. 

Now in their long lives the  younger daughter was starting to come of age and things were changing.. a lot.

Changes that The Spine had knew were coming but had not spoken to his older daughter about, because he hoped his own nature in Pearl would be enough to keep them from happening.  He honestly should have known, his lover's will and nature were as strong as his own. She changed them only for his love when she realized some of her ideas were wrong. Still, what she was couldn't be denied and now it was surfacing in Pearl, worrying Spine sick.

That is the shape his older daughter found him in as he hurried down the hall to get to Pearl's room.

"dad!!" sprocket called, "what's wrong!?"

Spine made a face, "your aunts have incredibly large mouths... you know that? I told them NOT to tell you."

The lil silver naga shrugged, "Nah they are evil geniuses .. they knew you'd need my help.. So what the hell is going on with pearl? Shes not been out of her room in three days."

Spine sighed, "I'll tell you everything but we need to get there as fast as possible. Maybe what i think happened has not. Maybe she's just in a bad mood. Let's make sure before we fly off the handle."

The pair of them got to the door of Pearl's room and knocked. Nothing for a full minute and a half. Usually the lil thing was prompt in her politeness and came right to the door. Tonight tho, and for several nights hence there had been nothing.

"Lets see if its locked," Sprocket told her father.

She tried the handle and the door swung inward on its hinges with no trouble whatsoever. The inside of the room was cold and dark and of her lil sis there was no sign.

"Is she even here?" Sprocket looked around, "Pearl doesn't hunt she usually gets hers from what you bring home for her right?"

Spine nodded and continued to look around.

"yes," he told her, "It was easier on her. She was a bit too young yet to learn how to hunt. Doing so without killing the human requires some skill and I didn't want her to have to deal with that. "

"Yah no i gots," Sprocket nodded and slid deeper into the room, "She's too sweet for that any how."

She peeped into the bed and found nothing. Stuck her head into the closet and again nothing.

"ok well if she's not hunting, and she's not out in the manor " She looked around, "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Spine told her worriedly, "Let me look at something."

He headed over to pearl's desk and found what he was looking for, a dorm size refrigerator. He cracked the door open and looked inside. Small containers of blood lined the inside of the cooling unit, it was almost full.

THAT made him stop. It was friday night. He always brought her blood back with him from his saturday night hunting expeditions. The cooling unit should have been almost empty by this point in the week. But he could see that it was still almost full.

"Oh no," He could feel the horror slide over his sliver face, "oh please no...."

"Dad..." Sprocket started.

She slightly backed away from Spine because she had never seen her father behave in such a manner. He looked utterly horrified, at himself. 

That was a look she never thought she'd see on her father's face. He had long ago reconciled his vampire lord status, vowing that even if he needed blood to live he'd never willingly kill someone to get it. Vowed to always be compassionate and gentle with the lil human females that Gave the Silver Lord what he and his precious daughter needed to live. 

now tho.. he looked completely disgusted with himself. 

Sprocket backed up more and her coils touched something that felt like solid ice. 

She twisted around to get a good look at what she had bumped into and screamed bloody murder. The cold thing she had touched was the limp, lifeless body of her lil sister.

"PEARL!!" the naga shrieked and dove for her lil sister, wrapping her warm tail around the ice like lil vampire. "Pearl! Pearl please wake up! Pearl!"

The other girl remained unconscious, not responding to her sister's tearful cries or shaking sobs.  all she could do was hold her sister tightly and rubbing the icy lil hand trying to get her to wake up.

"Dad!" Sprocket looked up, "Dad whats wrong with her! Why is she like this! Did someone come in here and hurt her!? What happened?"

The look on Spine's face told his older daughter that his heart was breaking for both her and her  younger sibling. Now the truth would come out and there wasn't one damned thing he could do to protect the two of them from it any more.

"I was afraid of this," He replied softly, " Here..." 

He removed two of the containers from the cooling unit and went over to his children.

"Can you hold her up for me Sprocket," He asked softly, "She needs blood, I have to see if I can get her to swallow this. I hope she's so out of it right now she won't realize what is going on."

"What? " The naga girl looked at her father as tho he had suddenly sprouted a second head but did as he asked and changed the way she was holding her sister. Propping her head up on her shoulder. 

Spine infinitely gentle as he sat down next to his little girls and opened one of the tops of the containers. 

"Come on lil one, " He told Pearl Softly, "You need to swallow this, even if you don't like it any more."

He held it up for her and she was out of it enough to operate on instinct and drink it. 

Sprocket held her sister until her father had gotten her to swallow both of the containers and then let the younger girl go from her coils as Spine carried his  younger daughter to her bed.

"What do you mean "She doesn't like it any more."? " Sprocket demanded, "She's a vampire. ... "

Spine sat pearl down on her pillows and pulled the blanket around her, "No sprocket.. She's not. "

"Say again, " The naga's eyes were now the size of silver dollars.

Spine sighed, "Pearl is a dhampir... A half breed. Her mother.....Was as human vampire hunter. "

spine got that look of utter self loathing on his face again and smoothed the hair off his younger daughters face, "And her mother's blood ... is finally starting to come out. "

[builder051]

The sound of snowfall

Jonestown (Natasha Romanov/Jessica Jones Avengers-JJ crossover ‘verse).  Contains alcohol, emeto, a bit of angst, a bit of romance.  

_____

Picking up Jess for work is Nat’s first task each day.  Sometimes it’s as simple as rolling over in bed and pressing a kiss to Jess’s pink lips, parted slightly and always inviting.  Nat wishes that was the case every morning.  It feels natural, Nat rising with the sun.  Gently pulling her lover back into the land of the living.  Coaxing out a smile from the haze of drink and sleep.

It would never work, though.  They’re probably only so happy together because they aren’t always together.  Neither of them is cut out for domesticity, and the schedules of spy rings and overnight stakeouts are hardly accommodating.  But Nat can’t complain.  She has the low-slung black sports car for a reason.  It’s almost as sensual to watch Jess leave lipstick marks on the lid of her Starbucks cup.  Almost.

It’s snowy today.  A heap of the white powder falls from a ledge somewhere up above as she steers out of the tower’s basement garage, the door whirring up and letting her out onto the street.  There are a few shallow tire marks in the snow on the street, but not enough to churn it into dirty grey slush.  Nat feels ice crunch beneath her tires.  She takes it easy, letting the car roll forward with gravity before chancing a tap on the accelerator.  

It’s the kind of weather that closes schools and gives way to red-nosed newscasters bundled in knockoff Burberry, imploring the public not to leave their high-rises.  Nat laughs to herself, pushing the car up past 30 as she plays chicken with a yellow light.  She’s the only vehicle out and about this morning, so it’s not like there’s utility in slamming on the brakes.  And she’s not even speeding.

With the absence of traffic and slickness of the ice, it doesn’t take Nat long to navigate to Hell’s Kitchen.  She only slows when she turns, snow spraying in arcs around the wheels.  A thrill of excitement flutters in her stomach when she starts to fishtail.  Nat grins, then catches the eye of her reflection in the rearview mirror.  She could stand to cool her jets.  

Nobody in Jess’s building seems to have left for work, so there’s no place to park.  She doubts any brave souls will venture out anytime soon, so she doesn’t feel too bad about pulling up parallel to a yellow mustang with a 10-inch cap of snow.  It looks like an over-frosted sugar cookie, delectable and absolutely ridiculous.  There are so few cars in the city that it makes sense for parking options to be limited, but this one’s owner must be nuts.  Who leaves such a flashy vehicle parked curbside for any length of time?  Well, Nat does, but her sanity’s so far gone that she doesn’t count.

She locks up and picks her way across the sidewalk, making pointy tracks with her high-heeled boots.  She sinks up to her ankles, and she shivers when some of the powder falls into her shoes.  Years of ballet and aikido and cheap, unbalanced treadmills have loosened the neural connections in her feet, but she still wishes she’d worn socks.

Jess’s building is hot and wet-smelling, like the collective population of inhabitants have all thrown their damp mittens over the radiator to dry.  Nat heads for the stairwell, where the draftiness and mist of cigarette smoke provide cold comfort.  She jogs in tight circles up the switchbacks to Jess’s floor, glad she’d had the boots re-soled in rubber.  It’s better for both the grip and the quietness.  It’s a little disappointing to stride across a hard floor without the purposeful clicking to announce her arrival.  But save an aura of sexiness, there’s no good reason for her to have loud shoes.  And besides, she doesn’t need to put on airs for Jess.  Jess tells her she’s beautiful in a hoodie and sweats.

Nat isn’t the one in a hoodie and sweats today, though.  The frosted glass panel in the door is meant to discourage prying eyes, but Nat knows how to interpret the fuzzy shapes behind the lettering for Alias Investigation.  The greyish, rounded silhouette of Jess’s head and shoulders rise past the line demarking the surface of her desk.  She’s already working.

“Hey,” Nat taps on the glass with one knuckle.  “Open up.”

Papers shuffle, and Jess gets up to let her in.  “Hey,” she says, raising her eyebrows at Nat through the crack as she releases the chain.  

“You gonna wear that to the office?” Nat asks, giving a meaningful look to Jess’s baggy sweatshirt before shaking the last bit of snow off the top of her shoe.  “Not that you shouldn’t.  But, you know…”

Jess shrugs.  “Did you watch the news?  Government stuff is closed today.”

Nat didn’t, but she’s not interested in sharing that.  “What, for this?”  She gestures vaguely toward the window behind Jess’s desk.  “It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, well, the transit authority has apparently never been to Minnesota.  Or Moscow.”  She flashes Nat a smile.  “That’s what they’re worried about.  Car crashes.  It ‘s not like New Yorkers know how to drive anyway, in, like, regular conditions.”  Her grin falters.

“Seriously, though,” Nat says, stepping into Jess’s kitchen and taking a mug from the drainer basket.  “A snow day?  Aren’t we too old for that?”

“Oh, I’m with you there,” Jess replies, trailing a few steps behind.  “If you wanna build a snowman, go ask somebody else.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.”  Nat reaches toward the cabinet that sometimes contains instant coffee.  But not today.  There’s only Jack Daniels and Smirnoff.  

“No, I’m totally fun,” Jess deadpans, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and tearing at the lid’s plastic coating.  “Want some breakfast?  I’ve got case files, too, but this is better.”

“You sure SHIELD’s closed?” Nat asks suspiciously.  “I’m not getting a DUI when we get called in for a mission or something.”

“It’s a snow day for evil geniuses too.”  Jess swigs straight from the bottle, then breaks the seal on the vodka and holds it over Nat’s mug.  A drop of clear liquor shivers at the lip and falls like a loose diamond.  “All plots to take over the world are delayed till tomorrow.”

Nat laughs.  It’s stupid to let her guard down so much, but Jess is right.  Statistically speaking, at least.  More crimes are committed in the summer, regardless of scale.  Even terrorists don’t like going out in the cold.  “Ok,” she acquiesces.  “Sure.  But you owe me if I get a parking ticket.”

“You won’t,” Jess says.  She fills the mug almost to the brim.  

Nat takes a sip and looks at her questioningly.

“Government’s closed, doofus.”  Jess bumps Nat’s shoulder with hers, and Nat has to quickly gulp her drink to keep it from spilling.  “That means fewer cops, and they’re all gonna be responding to fender benders.”

“You owe me if I get in a fender bender, then.”  Nat nudges her back.

Jess rolls her eyes.  “I don’t think you’re drunk enough.  You’ve really got the dumb today.”

Of course Nat doesn’t think she’ll actually crash.  She drives like a stuntwoman when she’s sober, and still better than the average soccer mom when she’s intoxicated.  She tosses her hair back even though it’s not in her eyes.  “Then maybe it’s a good thing you’re keeping me home.”

Jess laughs and kisses her.  She tastes like whiskey and sleep, and she rises on her tiptoes so she can give tongue.  After a moment, her forehead starts to slide down Nat’s nose.  “Take off your fucking tall shoes and come’ere.”  

The overexcited thermostat makes it comfortable to strip to underwear.  They lie on the couch, squashed together at one end, kissing and blushing and not quite watching Good Morning America.  They decide to start a new game, drinking every time someone on TV mentions the snow.  Quick sips for regular programming.  Long ones for special reporting interruptions.  

They play until they start to forget the rules.  The animated map of swirling rainbow weather systems seems to jump up and down, vibrating the sofa like a deck chair on a cruise ship.  Nat plants her hand to ground herself and finds the culprit is Jess’s rib cage, shuddering with silent giggles beneath her.  

“You have to keep going,” Jess says breathlessly, reaching clumsily for her bottle.  “This is the lonest fucking snow report I’ve ever seen.”

Nat starts giggling too, even though the situation is tilting decidedly towards not funny.  Her gut feels watery and heavy.  Or maybe that’s her mouth.  She’s an overfilled mug, ready to spill, but still sipping anyway.  It had helped last time.  

Nat’s hand goes clammy against the warm glass.  The bottle is half-empty and unwieldy.  The liquor splashes back and forth, toward the neck, then toward the bottom.  Jess’s face distorts as Nat looks at her, going huge and then tiny as the tide rises and falls.  Her mouth moves, and Nat knows she’s speaking, but it takes several seconds to disentangle her voice from what’s coming out of the TV.

“…ok?”

“Huh?” Nat asks into the vodka bottle.  A sick hiccup sticks in her throat like a cork about to pop.  She doesn’t trust herself to move.

“Nat?  You ok?”

“Uh-huh.”  But as she says it, she feels the bottom drop out of her stomach, a springboard compressed and ready to launch.  If the TV wasn’t humming, she thinks she’d be able to hear the blood draining from her face, like the sinister trickle from vein to vial in the overly-quiet doctor’s office.  

“No, you’re not.”  Jess sits up, jostling Nat and sending vodka all down the front of her camisole, both from the bottle and rushing up from her throat.  

“Oh, geez.  Sorry,” Jess says, yanking the bottle out of Nat’s hand and cupping her palm beneath her chin.

Nat wants to tell her it won’t do any good, though when she opens her mouth, Jess finds out anyway.  The sick is clear, but it smells like stomach acid.  The kind it’s easy to forget needs to be cleaned up until it dries and becomes a permanent odor.  It spills between Jess’s fingers and pools in Nat’s lap until she gains the wherewithal to lean forward over the floor.  

“Ok.  Alright,” Jess mumbles.  It’s half comforting and half drunkenly confused, like a stumbling coed looking for the pizza box that turns out to be in her hand.

Nat wants to tell her it’s not her fault, that it would’ve happened anyway.  She wants to tell her that she hardly ever pukes when she drinks, that this is weird, that she’ll clean it up.   But she’s still too nauseated to move her jaw.  Her breath comes in a wet rattle when she inhales.  And Jess already knows.

“Come on.”  Jess hauls Nat off the couch, supporting her easily with one hand while keeping the other, vomit-coated one under Nat’s face.  Nat thinks she’s going to be deposited in front of the toilet, and her stomach prepares to heave, but Jess pushes her into the shower instead.  She lets go for a second to close the glass door, and Nat retches.  Her shoulders fly toward her knees as her legs give way.  A weak stream of alcohol comes up and runs between Jess’s feet.

“Ok, easy.”  She props Nat against the tile wall.  Nat expects it to be cold against her spine, but it’s not.  It’s warm like the wall of a sauna.  Jess keeps her fingers wrapped around Nat’s arm as she reaches to turn on the spray.  

“’M fine,” Nat chokes.  She drags her shaking hand across her mouth and chin.  A blur of red and yellow stains the back of her wrist.  Nat hopes it’s a hallucination, carryover from the technicolor radar picture embossed on her retinas.  But she feels Jess’s eyes boring into her, burning the marks of mucous and blood.  

Nat wipes it on her thigh.  “It’s nothing,” she slurs.  Nothing good will come from a lie, and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to come up with something believable, anyway.  She does her best to downplay the truth.  “Just… a thing that…happens sometimes…”

“Ulcer?” Jess guesses, taking down the showerhead and aiming it at Nat’s leg until the smear disappears in a pinkish swirl down the drain.  

“How’d you—”  Nat swallows hard and tries to convince herself the heat in her throat is just from the steam.

Jess shrugs.  “It’s a thing that happens sometimes.  More common than you might think.”  Her voice is steady, but her smile wavers.  “But I think I owe you for this one.”

“But… it isn’t a…?”  Nat can’t remember the stipulations of recompense she’d set earlier.  Something about cars.

“This is worse, isn’t it?”  Jess holds the showerhead over Nat’s hair, moving it over the crown of her head so the limp auburn strands fall out of her eyes.  

Nat considers.  “I mean…”  She thinks about forcing a laugh, but she doesn’t quite have the breath for it.  “It’s not ideal, but… I can think of worse ways to spend a snow day.”

Jess’s cheeks are as pink as her lips, and a halo of frizz decorated with tiny water droplets rings her head.  “You poor, deprived girl.”  She lets the showerhead fall, the spray keeping it from bouncing off the tile.  Jess grabs the shampoo, and the scent of flowers overtakes the notes of vodka and bile.  “If you’re lying to make me feel better…”  She trails off, shaking her head.

“I’m not,” Nat says.

“I know.”  Jess works a lather into Nat’s hair, her touch extra gentle on Nat’s scalp.

“Then why’d you say it?”  Nat says, trying to look up without straining her eyes.

“I wanted to know if you actually would.”  Jess’s voice goes up at the end, even though it’s not a question.  “Be honest, I mean.”

“I was.”

“Yeah,” Jess sighs.  “I probably shouldn’t’ve questioned it.”  She slips into a mumble.  Nat isn’t sure if it’s from alcohol or emotion.

“If you didn’t, you’d be stupid,” Nat says.  A line of foam drips down her temple.  She watches it leave a white trail in her peripheral vision.  Nat catches it with her thumb and smears it across Jess’s cheek, right under her eye.

“What are you doing?”  Jess looks at her in a pitying way, her eyebrows raised and her forehead crossed with worry lines.

“Giving you an excuse.  You keep saying I’m dumb, but you’re the one crying because you got soap in your eyes.”  Nat gives a dramatic eye roll that makes her head pound, but an ember of satisfaction glows in her chest as she sees a tear cut the streak of sudsy war paint.

“It’s shampoo.”  Jess begins to carefully rinse Nat’s hair.  The corner of her mouth twitches.  “Shut your eyes.”

“Well, excuse me.”  

“I always will, Nat.  You know me.”

[bigskydreaming]

princeescaluswords replied to your post:

Alex Summers, after the most recent of 128979889...

Why don’t you write Marvel? You couldn’t possibly do any worse and I could use the laughs!

Lol, its a nice dream, but realistically I don’t think there’s any universe in which Marvel would ever let me write the X-Men. 

Like, my very first story would probably have Bobby refreezing the Arctic while Storm heads up a team of elementals to combat climate change. And then a Republican senator and a Democrat senator would go on TV and make a bipartisan show of expressing their gratitude towards mutants for helping save the planet and this is the real future of humanity, this is them all building a world where they can live side by side in a mutually beneficial -

And then the broadcast would cut off because Cypher just hacked every satellite worldwide and said “all your binary codes belong to me now, resistance is futile, blah blah” before turning the camera to Sunspot who’s all decked out in his snazziest suit and dressed to the nines. Roberto yawns and flips the whole world off and says “LOL fuck you, the X-Men are done with respectability politics, we took a vote and our democratic process actually works, we don’t have a fucking electoral college. We only saved the planet because it happens to be the planet we live on, dipshits, nobody did it for you, you’re still cordially invited to go extinct. Or you can play nice and try getting along with the rest of us for a change but good luck trying to make Sentinels happen again, lmao, funding’s gonna be an issue for you pretty soon I think.”

He turns off the camera and goes back to planning his and Sam’s wedding, because look, I have my priorities, okay.

Then Mystique unleashes her new Fellowship of Evil (Same Name, But This Time Its Evil as in STFU, Its Ironic U Assholes) Mutants that she’s been recruiting from the ranks of the young and disenchanted. Overnight, the market is flooded with gold and gems transmuted from ordinary materials by mutant powers, as well as a bunch of shit ‘liberated’ from the coffers of the 1% via her Fellowship’s alliance with her son-in-law’s Thieves’ Guild. Value plummets instantly, and then technopaths join in the fun, crashing every banking system worldwide.

“Whoopsie, I broke capitalism, money’s worthless now, vive la revolution, everyone eat some fucking cake,” Raven sing-songs merrily from the chaise she’s lounging on while eating grapes. The city outside her window is burning. Meanwhile, a fiddler is playing nearby. She calls him Nero, because Aesthetic.

“Oh relax,” she rolls her eyes when Remy attempts to frown at her disapprovingly. “I had my teleporters evacuate the city before I set it on fire. I’m not a heartless monster, you know.”

“You mean you didn’t want to spend the next ten years dealing with your children yelling at you about innocent civilians and how could you,” Remy says dryly.

Mystique just shrugs and eats some more grapes. “Or that.”

Far-right dominated police forces and white supremacist militia groups attempt to forcibly establish martial law, except mostly they’re just standing around clutching their heads and trying to cope with the mother of all migraines as a gestalt of telepathic minds headed up by a Cerebro-powered octet of Jean, Emma, Betsy, Rachel, Quentin, and the Stepford Cuckoos psychically screams FAKE NEWS!!! into their brains every time their CO’s attempt to bark out new orders.

“Best school project ever,” Quire shouts. Emma smirks.

“Extra credit to the first person to psychically leak the full extent of just how extensively governments have invaded their citizens’ privacy with surveillance extremism in the name of national security.”

Jean attempts a half second of chastisement, but with them all linked this closely, there’s really no way to hide that she’s mostly just amused. Oh no, she and Emma are seeing eye to eye on something and there are witnesses and everything. The revolution was a mistake.

Atlanteans and mutant hydrokinetics team up to shove the worst oil and toxic waste and trash spills up onto the shores of every beach marked ‘privately owned’. The mile-wide ‘island’ of plastic debris that formerly sat in the middle of the Pacific is now parked off the coast of Malibu.

There’s a twenty foot demon from Limbo sitting in the Oval Office. It burps. Illyana beams and boops its nose. “Good boy.” It wags its tail and breaks the Oval Office.

Kitty and Kurt direct teams of similarly powered mutants in raiding the top secret R&D facilities of major pharmaceutical companies for all their research on diseases that never made it to mass production because they decided those treatments or cures wouldn’t be profitable in the long run because healthy people don’t need to spend a ton of money on medical care. Teams of healers are standing by to vet the viability of various research, while Hank, Cece and other mutant geniuses are already working on filling in the gaps on all the projects that were shutdown and Forge, Madison Jeffries and tech-based geniuses are converting existing infrastructure into the necessary machinery to take over mass production of these drugs, prosthetics, and sweatshop labor in general.

Speedsters and teleporters are redistributing food and stocking up the millions of properties worldwide that have just been sitting there empty for god knows how long, useless. Colossus is standing in the smashed remains of a mansion with his arms crossed sternly while a man who is definitely not meant to resemble the CEOs of either Tesla or Amazon or look like some kind of Musky Bozo hybrid cowers on the floor.

“You are a very stupid man,” Colossus says. “Why are you wasting billions funding research into space travel when there are aliens with a strong grasp of the technology in the ships that brought them here on every superhero team on Earth? You could have easily provided the Earth with working and widely accessible space travel by now if you weren’t so miserly.”

“Yeah,” Juggernaut says behind him, scratching his head. “Aliens have been coming and going from this planet for like fifty years. There are tons of fancy spaceships anyone could’ve just reverse engineered and mass produced by now. How come nobody’s ever done that and we’re all just acting like space travel is some far-off dream when everyone we know’s been to space like at least ten times?”

“Stupid people,” Colossus rumbles again. Musky Bozo wets himself and Piotr sighs and shakes his head. He didn’t even touch him.

Cyclops and Wolverine and their teams of bruisers are already done with the ICE facilities and have progressed to busting open prisons and liberating all nonviolent offenders. They inform everyone else that they can appeal to a panel of telepaths to read their minds and see for themselves that they’re innocent.

“Guilt determined by mind-reading?” Someone asks. “Lots of potential for sketchiness there.”

“Absolutely,” Scott says. “Which is why laws about boundaries and oversight have to be established. For now, its a volunteer basis only. Nobody has to get their mind read, but its an option available in the meanwhile as we sort out a better system for determining who’s been imprisoned for crimes of premeditated malice and abuse and who’s just been railroaded by an unjust and biased system.”

“So this is your new utopia, huh?” Sneers the prison warden, from the floor where he’s on his ass with a busted face because, idk, Reasons.

Scott just shakes his head. “No. It’s merely a start.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but if its broke and you wanna fix it, you gotta start somewhere,” Logan says gruffly. “Shit was broke. This is ‘starting somewhere.’”

He and Scott share a very Passionate look of camaraderie. Rogue sighs loudly.

“Just fuck already, jfc.”

Logan grunts. He already offered, but apparently all Personal Business must wait until after the Revolution was over, because a Scott Summers who put himself first was very clearly an impostor, so its not like Logan could even fucking get mad considering Scott putting in a pin in sucking each other’s faces after their We Were Both Dead But Now We’re Not and Also What the Fuck Was Up With Us For the Five Whole Years Before That reunion was what confirmed that it was definitely the Real Scott’s tongue in his mouth.

“Alright, let’s move it people,” Logan barks, clapping his hands. “There’s three more joints to hit before sundown. We got a timetable here.”

Jubilee squints at him suspiciously. “Since when are you efficient?”

“Mind your own fucking business.”

At no point does anyone suggest they erase the most sacred sites of all the world’s major religions and call them all fake or randomly resurrect a bunch of dinosaurs and release them on unsuspecting and innocent populations, because those are terrible ideas and make no sense and just because they’re stinkin’ commies now doesn’t mean they’re fucking morons.

Also, nobody grows a ridiculous beard or stops using shampoo or starts wearing flip flops or robes, because apparently those are not actually essential components of being a stinkin’ commie or even just a garden variety peace-aspiring socialist. They checked. Extensively. It was almost a dealbreaker. Emma, Monet and Roberto all threatened to side with the Capitalist Pigs if that was not thoroughly clarified before proceeding any further.

Thus ends my first issue. I email Marvel the script. They email it back, almost entirely redacted in red, with the note “This isn’t quite what we were looking for. Do you have anything about a new cure for mutants, maybe?”

I email them back: LOL NO. MAGNETO WAS RIGHT.

I am promptly fired.

I go back to ranting about how Marvel sucks on the internet.

[true-halloween-tales]

2018: #5-MAD SCIENTISTS

A common character type in horror films is the mad scientist. Mad scientists are the geniuses who create the problems the films are about. Mad scientists also appear in many novels and tv series. Mad scientists allow for easy Halloween costumes; all you need is some sort of lab coat. The mad scientist is a Jungian archetype, a familiar reoccurring character type. They usually hold some form of degree in biochemistry, medicine, or robotics so they qualify as being a scientist. They primary want to build, create things, or make scientific progress. Mad scientists often have wild frizzed out hair, wear white lab coats or protective gear, are eccentric, and old. They always have good intentions – advances in science or knowledge! They are convinced to the point of fanaticism that they are benefitting humanity. Sometimes their goals are narrow, to just help one person, such as a family member, often from an illness, resulting in terrible consequences. It is important to understand this distinction of mad scientists: they usually think they are working towards good. They always believe that the ends justify the means. They are cold people. Mad scientists have existed since there was science. They represent an insane misuse of the scientific method into creating terrible things.

A misuse of science and technology is an issue we are slowly drowning in. Global warming is the largest product of this misuse. Global warming exists because of a willful ignorance in harnessing natural energy. Of all of the possible energy sources, from the tides to wind and solar energy, focusing only on obtaining power from sources that produce toxins is crazy. Freud called that Thanatos, the death instinct. Real mad scientists are responsible for animal testing, the nuclear arms race, etc. Thomas Edison, sure made achievements with electricity, but why would he electrocute an elephant? The unconscious motivation of the mad scientist is Thanatos, or death and doom.

Previously I ogled over the 1974 Doctor Who seven episode story, Inferno (see 2018: #2-GUIDE TO DOCTOR WHO). The Third Doctor, Jon Pertwee, is shot into a parallel world in which England was a totalitarian communist country. The Doctor deals with a Professor Stahlman who is managing the deepest drilling project ever. This deep drilling brings up a mysterious green ooze. The green ooze was extremely hot, turning people insane and devolving them into green werewolves. Professor Stahlman ignored all of that and continued working on his drilling project to discover a new energy source. He was “hellbent” on seeing his project succeed in penetrating the Earth’s inner crust at all costs, yet doing that would doom the world to a quick destruction as the uncapped power of the core of the planet was released. Mad scientists are insane because they are drawn to doom, death and destruction, likes moths to a flame.

Dr. Frankenstein from the original 1931 Frankenstein film is perhaps the most recognizable mad scientist. Dr. Victor Frankenstein was portrayed by Colin Clive including in the sequel, Bride of Frankenstein. Colin Clive may be the primary mad scientist, but he was not the first mad scientist to appear in film. Rudolph Klein-Rogge delivered to us the mad scientist of Rotwang in the masterpiece Metropolis from 1927. Claude Rains in 1933’s The Invisible Man sure seems mad! Bela Lugosi portrayed many mad scientists (see 2018: #1-GREAT HORROR FILM ACTORS). I particularly prefer his twelve-episode serial from 1939, The Phantom Creeps, in which Lugosi portrays the villain who constructs a ridiculous-looking metal golem with a fantastically fat head (see 2012: #3-GOLEMS). The most frightening mad scientist from early film sure seems to be Charles Laughton’s Dr. Moreau from 1932’s The Island of Lost Souls. Bela Lugosi also appeared in that film but as an experiment of the mad doctor. Dr. Jekyll is an excellent example of a mad scientist with a multiple personality problem. There are many film adaptations of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The original 1931 film with Fredric March is probably the best but I also like Dan Curtis’ 1968 production of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with Jack Palance.

Mad scientists in horror fiction have a clearly specified niche they tend to be interested in. Sometimes they are mad doctors testing new surgeries, medications, or serums such as in 2007’s The Rage. Other times they are experimenting on living or dead people or upon animals as in 2006’s Black Sheep. If not messing about with animals or the dead, mad scientists start building things like robots and androids which may even end up destroying the entire universe as in the Lexx tv series. Other times mad scientists are building strange technologies and hyperspatial portals to other places or realms. Some mad scientists just want to break new barriers and travel somewhere forbidden as in the films From Beyond, Doom, or Event Horizon.

Mad scientists have appeared in many television series. Doctor Who was originally going to be about an old human mad scientist from the year 5,000 who built a time machine. Fringe was a tv series focusing upon one mad scientist chief character, Dr. Walter Bishop portrayed by John Noble. The enjoyable 1960’s The Avengers spy series often featured mad scientist villains (see 2017: #4-SPIES). Walter White from the popular Breaking Bad series was something of a mad scientist chemist. Quite a few superheroes are mad scientists or victims of mad science: Spider-Man, the Hulk, and the Fantastic Four (see 2017: #10-SUPERHEROES). Hannibal Lecter may hold psychology degrees, but he does not have the tactical goals of a mad scientist. Vincent Price’s Dr. Phibes may hold multiple degrees, but he focuses on theology. But – The Human Centipede’s Dr. Heiter is indeed a mad scientist, with interests quite similar to the feces-feasting Indian vampire, the bhuta (see 2009: #7-THREE LESSER-KNOWN VAMPIRE LEGENDS). There are so many, who are the top three mad scientists from film, having made multiple appearances as the same character?

One of the top three mad scientists from film is “David” the android from Prometheus and Alien: Covenant. David experimented upon, developed, and probably released across the galaxy the deadly species from Alien. Michael Fassbender portrayal makes one strangely sympathetic to his mad scientist activities. His specialty is bioengineering. There are theories that David is basically a human-created Satan figure in the Alien universe. It will be interesting to see if he appears again in a future film.

A second familiar mad scientist film character is Dr. Herbert West from the Reanimator films. Dr. West was portrayed by career mad scientist actor, Jeffrey Combs. Dr. West was predominantly preoccupied with bringing the dead back, their cats, and sometimes just their body parts. The four Reanimator films are based on a H.P. Lovecraft short story, and Jeffrey Combs career includes many appeariances in films adapted from Lovecraft and Poe stories.

The third mad scientist is Dr. Emmett Brown from the Back to the Future films. He was portrayed by Christopher Lloyd who is ready to make a fourth film in the series. Dr. Brown built a Delorean car time machine, and he was distinctive because he was not an evil destructive, Thanatos-pursuing mad scientist; he was actually a good mad scientist. Christopher Lloyd is also credited for his decent portrayal of Uncle Fester in The Addams Family films.

Have I ever encountered mad scientists? Yes! In earlier tales I mentioned my nightmarish experiences while working for Miskatonic University (see 2011: #3-INDESCRIBABLE HORROR AT MISKATONIC UNIVERSITY). It turned out I worked in a building with a massive secret animal laboratory. For the short time I remained working there, I carefully studied the psychologies of the animal researchers. I learned that they are all budding serial killers. They are indoctrinated to value life less, and some have subconscious drives to hate animal life. One of my job duties was to write a lengthy newsletter. One quarter page was empty of all content. A worker in the office suggested that a Save the Dolphin promotion could fit into the empty quarter page. When I mentioned this to one of these cold, indoctrinated mad scientist animal researchers, her eyes bulged furiously and insanely, and she demanded that the dolphins are not saved in this publication! She yelled to publish the newsletter with that page blank, and then she dissolved into a gelatinous stain of stupidity.

The best mad scientist films to watch for Halloween include: Island of the Lost Souls, 1977’s Island of Doctor Moreau is good too, the Reanimator films, and the six Resident Evil films. Sometimes I have served as a mad scientist, creating new monsters for my Dungeons & Dragons campaign (on Monday see 2018: #6-STRANGE MONSTERS I HAVE CREATED)…

[anonthenullifier]

You think Wanda and Vision occasionally have to come in to see the Principal because Tommy gets in trouble?

I bet they get called in more than occasionally, not just because Tommy seems the type to really push the rules as far as they can go, but also because of him having powers. Since this created a really strong visual for me, here’s a little drabble of how it could go down. 

The right, left, left, right journey through the hallways has become quite automatic, her eyes no longer searching for helpful signs with arrows and room numbers, instead her feet just take them there. Part of this routine includes stopping just out of sight of the office, the large, impressively well-cleaned floor to ceiling windows offer no room for hiding, so they always devise a plan prior to Jody’s eagle eyes spotting them. “What’s the plan of attack, Maximoff?”

Vision shakes his head, not a dramatic gesture, but one he began using when the boys were two and refused to wear pants. It is a sign of his utter defeat in the face of obstinate and illogical foes. “Learn of the issue and if there is reason for punishment then we acquiesce with their recommendations?”

“And if there’s not reason for punishment?” An option that is far more likely given the last few times they’ve been called in included how Tommy shouldn’t have thrown his gum in the recycling bin, how he shouldn’t take his jacket off at school, and how he is breaking the dress code with his unnaturally colored hair.  Even the one time there might have been a legitimate reason for them to be in this position, the day Tommy punched another student hard enough to break his nose, the reason for the attack (a name volleyed at Billy that neither boy has ever willinging repeated to Vision or Wanda) made any punishment not just worthless, but counterintuitive.

“Then we begin with logic and if that fails, you may once again prove to me that humans are irrational and use some convoluted emotional appeal to get him out of trouble.” The words might be construed as harsh if not for the wistful, minuscule smirk grazing his lips as he winks at her, her own lips responding in kind as she squeezes his arm in agreement. “Shall we?”

Fifteen steps brings them into view of the Principal’s office, the windows clear enough, not even one fingerprint smudge to obscure any ounce of the inside of the office, to show Tommy nervously bouncing in a chair while Jody, the administrative assistant, glares at him. Wanda opens the door, holding it so Vision can walk through, not only because she enjoys the way he smiles at small actions like this, but because she knows how much Jody despises when Vision is not being chivalrous enough. “Jody,” Wanda nods towards the woman before pivoting on her heels to look at her son, “Tommy.”

Tommy bolts upright, eyes wide and a sheepish smile (one he definitely gets from his father) greeting her. “Hi.”

Vision’s signature move in these instances is to sit down, get on Tommy’s level as he purses his lips, attempting to exude a sense of seriousness yet keep the paternal comfort, “Thomas, what happened this time?”

“Excuse me,” the polite yet harsh syllables enrage Wanda, powers buzzing in her palms as the woman behind the desk speaks up, “the offense can only be talked about with the Principal. You,” the of all people is silent, but it exists, settling in the air with a judgmental superiority, “know the procedures.”

“Can I tell them what I didn’t do?” Wanda bites the inside of her lip to keep from grinning at the impishness of Tommy’s loophole, this one always a troublemaker, but the way he works around Vision’s logic, or really anyone elses, is so impressive, Wanda would even say endearing, though she does not have to face it near as much as Vision, so their opinions might differ.

What is even more entertaining is the way Jody fumbles, mouth opening and closing like a fish, her hand torn between smoothing the tight knot of her hair or taking off her tortoise shell glasses. “I,” Wanda can feel the woman’s thoughts as they run through the manual for appropriate behaviors, “suppose that is allowed.”

“Alright,” Tommy rubs his hands together, foot tapping along with the whipping of his thoughts as he strategizes his explanation, “let’s see I didn’t punch someone,” this is the biggest relief, “or kick someone, or bite someone,” that was an interesting meeting. “I didn’t steal food, I didn’t make food, I didn’t start a food fight.” He pauses for half a second to think of the next list, “I didn’t talk back in class, I didn’t blow up the chemistry lab,” this one Vision questioned the teacher for allowing teenagers access to such combustible materials, but then grounded Tommy when they arrived home because he should fully understand the consequences of messing with volatile substances. “I didn’t pants anyone, though really thought about it. Um I didn’t vaporize the entire soccer field.”

“Oh,” Vision nods, quick to pick up on the implication of the list, “well at least it was not the entire field.”

Tommy nods, a hopeful grin parting his lips, “Exactly.”

The door to their left opens with a calm, but authoritative, “Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff.”

Vision stands, following Wanda as she walks into the Principal’s office, both of them taking their respective seats and staring at the sympathetic eyes of the woman across from them. Dr. Bennett, unlike the woman outside, is typically slow to blame the children, her carefully selected words and soothing voice a persuasive combination in guiding parents to agree with punishing problem behavior. This unassuming likeability, Wanda long ago decided, makes her an even more formidable foe. “So,” given the increased frequency of their meetings, there no longer seems a need for niceties or minced words, “what happened this time?”

The principal delicately opens a file on the desk, eyes skimming the unseen paper as her fingers follow along, nodding as the words force her lips to descend into a frown. “It appears,” Vision leans forward, waiting to hear the words, “Thomas vaporized one of the soccer goals during gym class.”

This is certainly a new offense. Wanda runs through all possible explanations for this happening, but comes up empty, which means she places the conversation back in the Principal’s hands. “How did he do that?”

There are very few people who can steeple their fingers in such a way as to be both casual and intimidating, typically it is reserved for the most dramatic and nefarious evil geniuses, but this woman has it down, elbows firmly planted on the desk while her fingertips partake of an innocent, gentle kiss. “From the eyewitness accounts, it seems as if he ran very very fast around it and it just,” her fingers part, hands traveling three inches from each other to mime a small explosion. “Now,” the folder is moved to the side as a much larger file is extracted from the abyss of her desk drawer, “we adore your sons and truly embrace the diversity they bring to the school.” This is the type of sentence that always proceeds a however and Wanda can feel Vision tensing beside her, these words, or some variant, having been used to describe both Wanda and Vision separately, but mostly together, a placation before condemnation. “But if they continue to be so foolhardy with their powers, we may have to discuss alternative options.”

Wanda immediately feels her body sliding into defensiveness, powers balling up deep within her chest as she tries to find the best words to suggest that perhaps the school is not nearly as inviting or understanding as they claim to be, just as the other three weren’t either. But then a quiet, deadly even question comes from her husband. “What was the impetus for his actions?”

“They were running the mile today, part of the yearly evaluation.”

The words are allowed to float down and settle into their minds before Vision continues, “Were there any peculiar instructions for the task?”

Dr. Bennett frowns, hands shuffling papers as she searches for an answer. “It seems some students said they were informed if they ran faster than their previous mile time they would win a prize.”

“Ah, that explains it, thank you.” Vision offers nothing more than that, shifting his weight so that he is leaned back in the chair, right leg coming up to cross over his left knee.

The principal sends an imploring glance to Wanda, but she can only manage a shrug. “Mr. Maximoff, I am not sure I follow.”

Wanda reaches gently into her husband’s mind and is met with an image of their old couch and suddenly it all makes sense, a wry smirk forming on her mouth as she remembers that day. “Dr. Bennett,” she does her best to match the friendly yet dismissive tone that is usually used on them when the school (or strangers, or reporters) feel they have the upper hand, “Tommy ran his first mile at his top speed and you all know how competitive he is.” The first time they were called into the office was because someone had bet Tommy he couldn’t eat the entire sheet pan of spaghetti being offered for lunch, not realizing that yes, he could, but two, it wasn’t even enough food for his increased metabolism. “So this time he went faster, it’s just, he hasn’t quite figured out how to balance speed with the consequences.”

“He once vaporized our couch trying to show us how fast he could run.”

Their joint explanation doesn’t seem to affect anything, the principal now staring at them with a detached sense of horror and curiosity. “I see. Well as I stated, he needs to control his powers and impulsivity better.”

“We agree,” Vision’s words stop the rest of the soliloquy they get each time an incident involves the boys’ powers, “but, as you have very astutely communicated in prior meetings, the school should not be held responsible for teaching this to them.”

Wanda jumps in, hand descending lovingly on Vision’s forearm and giving it a light squeeze, “That’s our job.”

Dr. Bennett’s eyes narrow as her lips tighten into a thin line, “I concur, but there should still be punishment at school for such behaviors.”

“How about he gets a warning this time and if it happens again then you can determine what’s best?” Which has been their go-to resolution for every behavior, and it works, sort of, Tommy rarely is called to the office for a repeat offense, though he is very good at finding new offenses. “And we will pay for a new soccer goal.”

Her acceptance is slow and drawn out, the three syllables occupying the same space as a full, meandering sentence, “Very well.”

Before they leave the room, the principal shakes their hands with a flurry of politely strained have a good days. On their way out of the main office, Wanda wraps Tommy’s wrist in a tendril of scarlet, pulling him out of the chair and into the hallway, just out of view of the glass windows. “You do that again and we won’t save you.”

The cheeky, pseudo-innocent smile erupting on his face reminds her so much of Pietro, which only solidifies what she suspected, Tommy knew exactly what he was doing. “Won’t vaporize a soccer goal again, promise.”

Vision remains a stoic statue, but Wanda can feel the slightly annoyed sigh of his mind as he speaks, “Perhaps we should rephrase that.”

“I won’t vaporize anything at school again?”

“Much better.”

[bluenet13]

3, 2, 1... And a Happy New Year (?)

I think we can all agree I don’t know how to write a @densi-mber drabble because this, again, is longer than it should be. Also, this time the whole team decided they wanted to be included, but Densi is still majorly present. 

10…

From across the room, the blonde man looked at his princess with the mismatched eyes and smiled lovingly.

9…

Her cheeks flushed and she returned the smile, her eyes full of the love and concern that was always present in them.

8…

The senior partners looked at their younger teammates and then at each other, wondering, not for the first time, how they had ended up in their current predicament.

-x-x-x-

The day has started out like any other. Except for the fact that it was December 31st, the last day of the year and one meant for joy and celebration. This year it fell on a Sunday, a much-needed respite for a NCIS team who had faced much heartbreak during the last 12 months.

The year had begun without one of their own, victim of a helicopter crash and still healing from said event, and at the time they didn't felt things could get any worse.

Then they had lost the "father" of the team. A man who came as a stranger, apparently set in destroying their team, but who left forever as a member of their family, and leaving open a void they would never be able to refill.

Then came the biggest disaster and chaos of any of their careers, when they had lost a woman who was literal family to one of them, but figurative family to all the rest. Leaving them all feeling guilty, full of what ifs, and despising the old enemy who had managed to take her away from them.

Then, out of nowhere, the "mother" of the team left. This has happened in the past, so none of them thought much of it. But, this time months had already passed, and they still knew nothing of her whereabouts. Apparently, this time it was really final, and she had abandoned them without explanation or goodbye.

They, sadly, learned that things could get much worse, and from a moment in which they almost lost one, somehow they ended up losing three.

One was to fate, the other to evil and the last one to choice.

But no matter how it happened, all three had been a part of them, as much as their own past and personalities. And now those parts had been taken away, leaving them feeling inadequate and lost.

New Year's Eve was the perfect day to lay all those demons to rest, to leave the darkness of 2017 behind and hopefully step into the light that 2018 would bring. As such, they had decided to celebrate it together and given that an empty house or a boat were not really a home, they chose to spend it at the house of the young and engaged couple of the team. Full of Christmas decoration, a nice tree, and with a large table, ready for all the good food that the guests would bring, it was the perfect location for all of them to finally smile again.

-x-x-x-

7…

The young detective moved his arms up and down the surface currently pressing against them.

6…

While the young female agent tried to wiggle free.

5…

And the big man and man of many mysteries kept trying to find a way out.

-x-x-x-

The young couple woke up bright and early, thinking of all they needed to do in order to get the house ready for their family to come welcome the New Year with them. While, at another part of town, another young couple, this time not of field agents, but tech geniuses, were already up, preparing their part of the meal and thinking of the fun times that lay ahead. At the same time, near the water, a big man was leaving his boat to go pick up his children at the airport, eager to hug them and have them close to him again. Lastly, at yet another different neighborhood, this time in a house that had seen a lot more furniture in the past, a senior agent had barely slept, deciding instead to practice his Russian, not knowing when it could come in handy.

The day was sunny, but not too hot, and the sky was almost entirely blue, with only some clouds to add some shading into its perfection. The day felt fantastic and if it was any indication of the year to come, all team members, thought it couldn't get any better than that.

Unfortunately, for a team of trained law enforcement officers things never happen as they should or as were expected, and somehow all their plans were meant to be thrown out the window.

It started with the same text message arriving to all their phones, followed by displeased grunts and disappointed sighs in each of the previously mentioned locations.

Some stolen weapons from Camp Pendleton had finally resurfaced and NCIS had received a *vetted* tip about a meeting happening later in the day in which those weapons were supposed to be auctioned between three of LA's most violent gangs.

It was supposed to be quick, an in-and-out case, without much trouble or concern, given the research and vetting process had already been done by the local agency who shared the information with them. Still, it was the worst possible time for the tip to arrive. All team members needed the break and time to enjoy with each other, but criminals never rested, not even on New Year's Eve and evidently not in the City of Angels.

-x-x-x-

4…

All four field agents were currently lost inside their own heads. All of them wondering what else could possibly lay ahead and that neither of them was ready to die just yet…

-x-x-x-

Preparations were quickly made and the team had gone to the armory to grab their weapons and vests, all eager to get this over with, so they could get back to their already made plans.

This small detour had certainly put a dent in said plans, but as agents and cop, they were all trained in the art of adaptation and making the best out of every possible situation. So even if their dinner couldn't be as great, they still expected to receive the New Year together, with the family they all had chosen for themselves.

Two hours after they all had arrived into the mission, except for the big man who took a little bit longer considering he had to pick up and drop his children back at the boat, all four team members were leaving the building and getting into their cars, ready to ceremoniously crash the bad guys' meeting.

The Challenger and SUV parked two blocks away from the warehouse and the three agents and detective started getting ready. Checking their main weapons, strapping back-ups to different parts of their bodies, along with knives and a grenade for good measure, and ultimately putting on vests. This was not the day for accidents, for mistakes or for more misery, so they all took a little extra time to make sure they had everything they needed and that they were protected in every possible way.

The walk to the building was quick, each individual reviewing their assigned location and required actions, again not wanting for this day to turn out even worse than it already had, considering they should be at home getting ready for a party, and not getting ready to breach a place full of the worst this world had to offer.

The two senior agents took the front, while the two junior partners went to the back. They all checked their coms and everything was working just fine, all four agents connected with each other and with the rest of the family back in ops. The plan was set, the team was in place, backup was close by, and the bad guys were clueless to what was coming for them… or so the team thought…

-x-x-x-

3…

All their minds were currently in the past, lost in better and happier times, leaving them all feeling nostalgic and wondering why time always had to keep moving forward…

The blonde man remembered his earlier New Year's, how happy times with a loving mom and dad had turned into days full of alcohol, blood, pain, tears and screams. But then how they got replaced by happiness, laughs, good food and better company. First from his mother, then from the few friends he had manage to make along his life and ultimately to the team who had become the family he never thought we would get.

The brunette woman remembered the man who had raised her and the one she had to thank for the agent but more importantly the person, she was today. Then to the years in the streets and eventually to finding her own way, her own team, and her own family, to reconnecting to her mother, and finally getting to the point where she could enjoy all the good things life had to offer.

The big man remembered his childhood in a military family, always talking about his dreams and eager to grow up so he could be a military man just like his father. To the point when he became a Navy Seal, the New Year's overseas and the company of his fellow servicemen. To meeting the woman of his dreams and the devastation of having her taken away. Ultimately leading to that day's morning, and the moment he hugged his children, realizing again that everything had been worth it.

The man with the striking blue eyes remembered the foster homes. Some holidays had been good, other had been full of fear and pain, and others had been spent alone when he had managed to run away. Then his mind wandered to the tiny lady who had saved him and had given him the opportunity of his life. That opportunity led to a partner, who became a brother, and who unselfishly shared his family with him. And had ended in a family far bigger than he could ever have expected.

All their minds got back to the present when they started listening to footsteps approaching the closed door that had been keeping them trapped in the current room.

-x-x-x-

The team leader had given the "3, 2, 1… ready to breach signal" and all three men and woman had entered the building, already expecting the surprised expressions in the criminal faces but ready for the fight they were still sure to give them.

But the building was completely empty.

The call seemed to have been a ruse.

And no bad guys were in the premises.

Still they had to be sure and do their jobs, so they all took a different path and started clearing each room, making sure no one was really there before they abandoned the warehouse and returned to the mission and to their more fun plans.

None of them were expecting the quick attacks that came, and they all got quickly overpowered. Together they were almost unbeatable, but separated in four different paths, and breaching a building that was supposedly empty, they had all been left vulnerable and at the mercy of the men lurking in the shadows.

The blonde man was taken down with a strong headlock, the brunette woman with a piece of cloth to her mouth and nose, the big man with a hit to the head, and the blue-eyed man had gone willingly after a voice at his back had told him they had his team, while pointing a cocked gun to his head, which was then violently lowered into his temple, forcing him as unconscious as his teammates…

-x-x-x-

2…

The footsteps were getting closer, and all four team members tensed in anticipation of who or what would come for them when the door finally opened.

They all thought of themselves, but that didn't caused much.

But when their minds wandered to the people they would leave behind, then they started to panic.

As agents, and cop, they were all ready to give up their lives for each other or for the greater good, still none of them really wanted to be the one to abandon their love ones and die on New Year's Eve.

-x-x-x-

All four agents had woken up with their hands tied behind their backs around four wood pillars located in the center of a room and facing each other. They had all been disoriented, given the not so gentle ways in which they had been taken down.

For a while no one spoke, all of them hoping to wake up in their own beds at any second and learning that all this had just been a bad dream. Still, time passed and they all remained awake, indicating that this was not a dream but the sad realities they faced.

The detective was the first to speak, making a joke which no one found really funny but still laughed at, and succeeding in his plan to alleviate a bit of the tension that was present in the air.

Even in the current situation, the blonde man smiled at his princess lovingly, and she returned the smile with a look of love and concern. All this while the senior partners just wondered how the day had gone so wrong, for them to find themselves in this current predicament.

-x-x-x-

1…

The door finally opened and all three agents and liaison officer held their breaths in anticipation.

Who had taken them and why?

Were they in the same warehouse or were they taken to a different location?

Was this person going to kill them or had other plans for them?

However, the people at the other door were certainly not who they expected and they all looked at each other in surprise and confusion when Executive Assistant Director Shay Mosley, Special Agent Harley Hidoko, Tech Operator Eric Beale and Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones stepped into the room.

"Happy New Year," Beale screamed excitedly, completely ignoring that all field members of his team were still tied up to posts, all looking a bit flustered and now even more confused and disoriented.

Still, the current situation could only happen to them and Deeks was the first one to burst out laughing. Followed by Kensi and eventually ending with all members of the family, even their usually stoic AD, laughing while they wished each other a Happy New Year.

Each of the new occupants of the room proceeded to free one of the still restrained team members, finally liberating them from the physical bonds, and the darkness and fears of their minds, those at least for the time being.

As soon as the rope felt to the ground the blonde man ran to his princess hugging her tightly and kissing her on the lips. For once, not caring about displays of affection in the workplace, much needing the proximity and reassurance than they were still alive and happily together.

The big man saw the exchange with sadness in his eyes, wishing that he could get home to do the same thing with the love of this life. His partner watched the emotions play out on his face and read his thoughts perfectly… He walked towards him and just stood there watching for some seconds, eventually deciding to reach out and hug the man that for all intents and purposes was as close to his brother as anyone would ever be. The exchange was kind of uncharacteristic, but it was what they needed at the time, and it was the perfect reminder to the lost senior agent that no matter how he felt, he was, nor would he ever be alone. His partner was not his wife but the company and reassurance was still greatly cherished and appreciated.

Each set of partners was brought out of their current moments by their boss saying that it was time to leave that hellhole. They all step out of the room in order, and started the walk towards the outside world and the cars that would take them home. A whole team of agents and officers in tactical gear was waiting outside, not exactly knowing what they would find when they got to the location they had discovered to be holding their missing team members, they had decided to bring in the cavalry and, if necessary, go in guns blazing.

They all got into the big SUV that the ops team had driven together and started making their way back into the City of Angels and the mission that was as much as a home as any. During the road back home the field agents learned how the supposedly vetted tip had been a trap from an old enemy wanting to get revenge on the team. Also, how the remaining team members had worked tirelessly to discover who was behind the attack and where the agents and cop had been taken to. And eventually to how they had planned the breach and rescue, once they had learn of said location. Ultimately, leading to the unusual New Year moment they had just experienced and to the current conversation in the car.

-x-x-x-

The day had started full of hope and eagerness for the celebrations that laid ahead. Unfortunately, plans were forced to change and the team could not welcome the New Year as expected, still at least, they had been together at the time the clock needle had moved, signaling a new hour, a new day, and a new year.

When they finally reached LA they were surprised to find themselves heading into the boatshed and not the mission. Stepping out of the car and into the building they were even more surprised to find it all decorated, with a new long-table in the middle, covered in delicious-looking dishes, with a fully-decorated Christmas tree on the side, and most significant, all the important people in their lives waiting for them.

Kamran and Aiden quickly moved to hug their father, both silently thanking anyone willing to listen that he hadn't been taken from them as well.

Julia and Roberta moved to their respective child and to the most important person in each other's lives, both not so silently berating them for scaring them and asking when would they finally become husband and wife, signaling the beginning of their *new* lives together.

Anna moved to Callen and looked him up and down, wanting to make sure he was really in one piece before finally moving to wrap her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek.

After hellos were said, and each family member or friend could really make sure that the four previously missing individuals were truly okay, they all proceeded to sit on the table to enjoy what was meant to be a New Year's dinner, all of them wondering and some even outwardly asking how they had managed to set up such dinner in that short amount of time. No one responded, but Hidoko, Beale and Nell subtly looked at AD Mosley, who just slightly smiled before grabbing a fork and starting on her food.

The day clearly hadn't gone as any of them had wanted or expected but ultimately none of them could complain, because they at least were together, sharing a nice meal and moment with their close ones, a luxury they knew many other people didn't have, and one none of them wanted to take for granted. The current moment would soon become another part of their memories, and it would most likely be used in the future to sustain and save them when the next disaster struck.

After all food was consumed, beverages drank, laughs shared and thanks given, the four agents noticed three empty chairs at the end of the table, along with a fully set up table in front of each of them. In place of a person, a candle was set in each, and they all knew who they belonged to…

To the one who had been taken by fate, the one taken by evil and the one taken by choice.

None of them fully absent, but neither fully present, and certainly never forgotten.

New Year's Eve was a day for joy and celebration, but also for sadness and nostalgia, a small representation of the roller-coaster that every year always brought, and this specific year it had been a clear symbol of that. Life was not perfect, and it would never be, they would continue to mourn their loses, and sadly they were most likely to continue losing more, because in life nothing was eternal and the only thing you could really do was enjoy the time that was given to you. That night each person left the boatshed ready to face the New Year full of hope and confidence that 2018 would be better, but full knowing that even if it wasn't, they would all be there to keep holding each other. Before getting in each of their cars, they all individually looked at the sky, wishing a Happy New Year (or maybe new life) to their missing family members and thanking all the gods for the ones still at their sides…

Happy New Year and thanks for making my experience of loving my favorite show even better ;)