#i keep drawing in flashes for thins that are not fandom related

[raspamon]

I wasnt gonna buy i bought the new dragon age and im hoping it gives me the brain worms to draw more

[fantastic-rambles]

Black Beast, Silver Blade [3]

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Akutagawa Gin, Ozaki Kouyou, Dazai Osamu, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakahara Chuuya (briefly)

Warnings: Violence/homicide, mild gore, some angst, idk.

Word Count: 3.4k

"If you're his mentor, then isn't it your responsibility to look out for him?" Ozaki's voice was lightly venomous. Gin had never heard her speak in such a tone before, so instead of walking past the older woman's sitting room, she cautiously peered inside. A pot of tea had been set out on the table, but neither Ozaki nor the young man sitting across from her seemed to be touching their cups. Gin's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the heavily bandaged man swathed in black. If Dazai was here, was it somehow related to Ryuu?

"You know I have to stay with Chuuya-kun this time," Dazai retorted, leaning back on the couch. His eyes flicked to the doorway, widening fractionally as he noticed the girl watching them, and then he smiled as if he'd been expecting it all along. "Why don't we let Gin-chan decide, since she'd be the one in danger? Come in, come in."

He flapped his hand at her, but she hesitated on the threshold, looking toward her teacher. Ozaki was frowning slightly as she also turned her head to look at Gin, but she eventually nodded reluctantly, and Gin stepped lightly into the room, stopping when she stood at Ozaki's shoulder. She waited quietly, suppressing her presence as she had been taught, as she fixed her eyes on the youngest Executive of the Port Mafia.

He hadn't changed much since the last time she'd seen him, and she found herself wondering about his bandages once more. He didn't seem like someone who could be injured so badly, given that he'd apparently single-handedly taken down a small gang without lifting a finger, and yet, she never saw him without them.

"Yah, Gin-chan, you're as cute as always!" Dazai exclaimed cheerfully, though the steadiness of his gaze didn't falter. Even so, Gin could feel herself coloring, and she inclined her head slightly in silent thanks.

"Anyways, I was just talking with Kouyou-san about how I need someone to hold A-kun's leash for a little while," Dazai continued. "She thinks--and I agree--that you're not ready for a mission of this level yet, but there's also nobody else who could handle it without losing an arm, at the very least. We're planning a raid on one of our best suppliers because they've been skimming enough off the top that they think they have a chance at taking us on. To teach them the error of their ways and make sure that none of them slip through the cracks, I want to have a team go in from each side and trap them in a pincer attack. Based purely on strength, the vanguards would be Chuuya-kun and A-kun, but I'm worried about both of them losing control during the fight. I'm the only one who can stop Chuuya-kun if that happens, but your brother will probably listen to you, right?"

Gin frowned slightly beneath the mask that she'd taken to wearing. Ryuu had never been particularly inclined to obey anyone else, and these days, the only person whose words he seemed to hang onto were Dazai's. But before she could respond, Ozaki interrupted, jabbing in his direction accusingly.

"Tell her the truth, Dazai. It's not that you think she can control him, but that if he savages her, there's a chance he'll come to his senses. I thought that we all agreed to keep their relationship a secret so they can't be used against each other: if you do this, who knows what rumors will start? Unless you're hoping that Akutagawa-kun will kill Gin to remove that weakness."

"Aiya, aiya, you're too suspicious, Kouyou-san!" Dazai reprimanded the other executive. "Okay, yes, you're right: I think A-kun would recognize Gin-chan and hesitate to raise a hand against her, which means she can push him in the right direction during our raid. But I really don't want her to die! If A-kun actually killed her, or even if she died because of a situation that he got her involved in, he'd probably be of no more use to the Port Mafia!"

Although he spoke jokingly, Gin had to repress a shudder. It wasn't that she was afraid of Ryuu, or of death. But the way Dazai had said he would be "of no more use" so carelessly, as if her brother was simply a tool that would be discarded if it broke, was an icy blade in her heart. Both of them knew that Ryuu's mentor was just this sort of cold and logical man, but it still scared her to think what would happen if the only man her brother respected, the one who had given Ryuu a reason to live, abandoned him. And on top of that, if she was no longer there…

But if she wasn't there and Ryuu turned his fangs on his allies, he would either be killed by the Mafia or blacklisted if he somehow managed to survive.

"I'll do it," she said softly. She couldn't see Ozaki's expression from where she was standing, but she could read her mentor's feelings anyways in the way the older woman tensed. She was happy to know that Ozaki cared for her, but this was something that she couldn't back down from, and she was relieved when Ozaki didn't try to dissuade her. Instead, the executive addressed her next words to her counterpart.

"It has to be tonight?"

"Yup! I've already sent out the call to muster, so we're committed now!" Dazai stood up, brushing off his pants and clearly indicating that the meeting was over. As he passed Gin, he pulled a twist of paper from the pocket of his coat and offered it to her. Knowing that it was probably information regarding where she had to rendezvous, she accepted it silently.

"Tonight, then!" he reminded her brightly before he left. Afterwards, the room was filled with a tense silence, and Gin wondered if she should just leave. But then Ozaki sighed, taking another cup from the tray and filling it with tea before placing it beside her own.

"Sit down, Gin."

Quietly, she obeyed, taking a seat beside the older woman and turning her head to look at Ozaki. She was startled when her mentor suddenly reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, and she could feel the warmth even through the thin cloth.

"Poor child," Ozaki murmured, her expression soft and a little sad. "I wish that I could come with you, but I have a meeting with an important partner tonight. Which Dazai must have known."

Her eyes flashed with momentary irritation, and again, Gin felt a deep appreciation and sympathy for the woman who had been taking care of her. She herself would feel more confident if Ozaki were beside her tonight, but Dazai was always quite deliberate in his actions, despite how frivolous he seemed. If the situation really was as dangerous as he had suggested, then perhaps this was a test for Ryuu, to determine whether he would be able to expend his powers to the fullest without losing control: if Ozaki were there, even just as backup, he could afford to hold back.

But then Ozaki turned away to pick up the teacup, offering it to Gin with steady hands. Hesitantly, Gin unhooked her mask, smoothing it flat in her lap, before accepting the offering, the delicate porcelain rattling slightly on its saucer. She waited for the other woman to raise her own cup, then took a sip of the lukewarm tea. They drank in silence, and when Gin had finished, she reached out to place the cup back on the table and rose to her feet. After she had resettled her mask on her face, she bowed deeply to Ozaki.

"Thank you for your guidance."

"Come back." Ozaki's voice was low and fierce. "Whatever happens, stay alive: you and your brother. And come back to me. I'm not done with you yet."

"Thank you," Gin repeated softly, hoping that she would be able to obey the command. When her mentor said nothing else, she retreated, unfolding the paper that Dazai had given her and memorizing its contents before tearing it to pieces and disposing of it.

She had hoped that she would have the opportunity to speak to her brother before the raid, but he hadn't come home for dinner. So now she was elbowing her way through the foot soldiers--drawing more than one curious glance--and making her way to the front of the lines. One man tried to waylay her, but he immediately let go of her arm when she slashed her knife at him, leaving the faintest trail of blood across his throat. After that, she was given enough of a berth to let her slide through the crowd, preceded by a low murmur. Thus, when she finally emerged, both Dazai and Ryuu were waiting for her, and Ryuu's eyes widened with shock and recognition.

"You--" he took a step forward, but his movement was arrested by Dazai's arm across his chest.

"Akutagawa, this is Gin, one of Kouyou's subordinates. I've borrowed him to reinforce this side since I need to be with Chuuya-kun. Gin, I'm sure that you've heard of Akutagawa? I hope that the two of you can get along," Dazai introduced Gin blandly. Gin inclined her head slightly in silent greeting while Ryuu just continued to stare at her. Finally, he turned away.

"I don't need his support. He'll just get in the way," Ryuu retorted, sliding his hands into his pockets. Grinning, Dazai slapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, if he does, I'd rather you don't kill him. Kouyou would be upset with me." Apparently satisfied that Ryuu wasn't going to make a scene, Dazai sauntered away while Gin advanced until she was standing just behind her brother.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed. Glancing over her shoulder at the assembled men and women, Gin was satisfied that they were keeping enough of a respectful distance that the siblings could speak quietly together without being overheard.

"Dazai-san asked me to come. I agreed," she replied calmly. "He thought that it would be a good test of my progress without putting me in serious danger since you'd be here. And I think that he's concerned that I won't be able to kill actual people."

She lied smoothly, having rehearsed it in her head for hours as she'd waited for Ryuu. She hated having to lie to him, but she had quickly come to the conclusion that it was better than the alternative. The truth would only hurt him, knowing that the man who he respected so dearly doubted his ability, and her story was plausible enough. It might even be true: Dazai was someone who always saw several moves ahead and rarely did anything for simply one reason.

"It's fine if you can't."

"This is my choice."

Before Ryuu could continue to argue, his walkie-talkie squawked, and he turned to face the assembled forces, raising a hand.

"Five minutes."

As he turned back around, he caught sight of Gin's raised eyebrow and explained, "They'd get in my way."

Then his cloak warped, darting forward in dark blades to slice apart the heavy steel doors and send them crashing to the ground in pieces. Before the dust had settled, he sprang forward, and Gin followed at his heels. As the sound of gunfire echoed in her ears, she sprang off to the side, her eyes picking out features in the gritty haze: piles of shipping containers, a narrow walkway, frequent muzzle flashes. Then the crash of metal, screams, the bitter copper tang of blood.

Leaving Ryuu to his work, she ran silently along the wall of the warehouse, scanning her surroundings for a way up. He could handle the forces on the floor, but anyone on the walkway would be out of his reach, so she couldn't leave them be. If his men were five minutes behind him, there wouldn't be a need for her to be by his side until they caught up, so until then, she could act on her own to keep him safe.

When a flimsy aluminum ladder materialized in front of her, she quickly climbed up, peering over the top. But none of the men were looking at her, as they were focused on the carnage below them, so she crawled over the edge, staying low as she snuck up on the closest of them. Truthfully, though, she needn't have bothered: the man was screaming curses as his machine gun chattered away, and he only became aware of her presence in the moment that her left hand wrapped over his mouth and her right hand drew her knife across his throat. Instantly, she released him, and he fell to his knees, his hands reaching up to try to staunch the flow of his blood as she silently cursed herself for not cutting deeply enough to make a clean kill.

But he would die soon enough. Leaving him where he was, she ghosted up to the next shooter, her left hand gripping her right wrist tightly to try to stop its tremors. Something must have alerted her target, though, because he suddenly spun toward her, and she had a brief, terrifying moment of staring down the barrel of his gun before she ducked and rolled forward, slamming into his legs and knocking him into his companion, sending both of them sprawling to the ground. Gin, on the other hand, had risen to her knees and lunged forward, planting her weapon squarely in the man's throat and ripping it sideways, releasing a fountain of blood that drenched her and made her shudder. Her other assailant was struggling to untangle his own gun, giving her precious few seconds to reach up and slam the heel of her hand into his nose, driving the nasal bone into the brain.

And then a concussive force slammed against her left shoulder. Gasping, she retreated as a trail of bullets followed her, clinking against the metal with more than a few burning through her flesh. And then a louder roar echoed from behind her, making her flinch and drop to the ground as feet pounded by her.

"Are you alright, sir?" A hand landed on her injured shoulder, and she jerked away from the touch as the reinforcements rushed down the walkway to clean up the rest of the smugglers. Glancing over the edge, she saw the troops that Ryuu had held back surging up the warehouse in a black wave toward a figure of wild and concentrated violence. The other side of the warehouse was apparently in the process of being flattened, with dented and distorted shipping containers flying through the air. Waving off the man's concern, she stood on shaky legs, gripping the railing with her good hand and swinging over the edge, dropping onto a pile of containers, and rolling forward to decrease the impact. Her right leg cried out in pain as it was jolted, and she bit the inside of her cheek to avoid crying out herself as she looked down at it.

There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it, other than two holes that bled freely. There wasn't time to treat it properly, not if she was going to catch up to Ryuu, so she used her knife to cut off her left sleeve, wrapping it tightly around her leg to put pressure on the wounds and slow the bleeding. Then she stumbled forward, using the containers as an upper road that kept her out of the potential crossfire as she approached the maelstrom of cloth.

She paused just outside of his range, dropping down to solid ground with a wince. As she peered around the edge of the container, her heart ached to see Ryuu staggering, covered in blood, as Rashoumon whipped around him, devouring bodies with a ravenous hunger. The screams echoed in her ears even though she'd been half-deafened by the machine gun fire on the walkway, before they were abruptly silenced. But at least it was almost over: the rattling of gunfire was more sporadic now, some of their enemies throwing aside weapons and raising their arms in surrender.

And then she saw one pair of dark jaws flying towards a man kneeling on the ground. Without thinking, she ran forward, throwing herself between the two of them. With unexpected force, the beast slammed into her, its momentum driving her into the side of another storage container and making her cough and struggle to draw breath as the air was driven out of her lungs.

"Ryuu," she gasped. She didn't know if he heard her as sharp teeth pricked at her sides, and she castigated herself mentally: the man wasn't even one of theirs, but an enemy. What did it matter if he died? That was the point of this raid, after all. And yet, striking down someone who had lost the will to fight... how could she allow it?

Too soft, a voice whispered in her head. The iron jaws released her before floating back to Ryuu's side, leaving her to slide down the corrugated steel, still fighting to breathe. A sharp pain stabbed her side as she inhaled shallowly, fighting the urge to cough that would undoubtedly make it worse. Foolish, weak, still hiding behind your brother.

An ominous-looking ball flew toward her, but she just stared at it, unable to move. It crashed into the container, crumpling it inwards as easily as if it were a tin can, and she gazed at the enormous hole beside her with wide-eyed surprise.

"Alright, alright, good job everyone!"

A familiar voice rang out in the silence that was settling over the warehouse, and Gin couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief that made her wince. Glancing over, she saw Dazai standing nearby, his hand wrapped around a shorter man's wrist: Nakahara Chuuya, she guessed. Nakahara's skin was covered with dark marks that were retreating from their point of contact in a slow crawl that made her uneasy. Ryuu stood a short distance away from them, his coat no longer a mass of blades, but shining with a dampness that made it glisten ominously. But he remained in control of himself and his ability: a small blessing.

Gingerly, Gin rose to her own feet, using the remains of the container to support herself. The movement seemed to capture Dazai's attention, and he released Nakahara, who fell to the ground in a limp, boneless collapse that suggested he was unconscious. Before she realized it, the Executive was standing beside her, his hand under her elbow steadying her. Ryuu was only a few steps behind him.

"Akutagawa, take Gin to the medics, will you? And then you'll wait to get patched up too. I'll take care of the rest here."

"But Dazai-san--"

"That's an order, Akutagawa. Both of you did well."

Ryuu closed his mouth and bent over slightly to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Bands of soft, dark cloth curled around her torso so that she was barely standing, her weight almost entirely supported by her brother.

"Thank you, Ryuu," Gin whispered. But he just shook his head in response, guiding her away from Dazai and the carnage. Now that the fighting was over, he didn't seem to be in much better shape than she was: he was breathing heavily, and not all of the blood that drenched his cloak seemed to be the enemy's. But there was a fierce gleam in his eye as they walked towards the exit, his weakness concealed by a strong sense of pride that kept every step firm. For Gin, though, it was all that she could do to not lean against him, to reassure herself that he was really there. But Dazai had gone to so much trouble to keep their relationship a secret, to give Ryuu excuses for his behavior. She couldn't risk it all for a moment of self-indulgence: that could wait until they returned home together.

As they walked together, Gin wondered again about the purpose of this exercise. It hadn't seemed like Ryuu had lost control: was it intended as a test for her, after all? Or did her brother simply have a better grasp of his ability than his mentor expected?

And then she smiled slightly, her expression hidden by her mask. They were both badly injured, but they'd survived. That was all that mattered.

[mochidrabbles]

Can I please request a Dazai imagine where he has a s/o who's really motherly and sweet so she's always taking care of everyone at the ADA and Dazai is starting to get a little jealous and clingy because he wants her attention on him alone and maayyybbee it gets smutty? Bonus points if she's a little shy and sort of modest usually?

So I uhh. Didn’t get like. Everything that’s in here and I apologize for that, but hopefully this works for you anyway!! I just sorta went with the flow with the idea this gave me so… Thank you for your request and I hope you like it despite some details being missing/a little different

I also posted this on my Ao3 so if you see it there don’t worry lol it’s still meee.

Note: This work contains suggestive themes. Nothing explicit, but read at your own discretion.

Title: Attention

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing: DazaixGn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1131

Sometimes Dazai wondered if you were this adorably stupid on purpose.

Lowered eyes watched as you flitted about from desk to desk, the coffees rested delicately on trays in each of your hands diminishing one by one with each stop you made. This was your second coffee run of the day, broken in the middle by a run for lunch and punctuated through by errands you’d been running for the rest of the ADA. You certainly knew how to keep yourself busy. Too busy.

Normally Dazai wouldn’t mind. Your kind, giving nature had been what had drawn him to you in the first place, after all. Admittedly, it had initially been out of suspicion (nobody was that generous and self-sacrificing without selfish motivation - right?) though he’d slowly come to simply find the trait endearing. It was a stark contrast to everything he’d grown up with, all he’d been raised to believe, but it was refreshing, in a way. A part of the beauty held in the light.

Today, however, Dazai found himself growing impatient with your ever-giving self. He adored your doting, but adored it when it was focused on him: not so much when it was exclusively focused on those around him. He especially found himself less fond of it when your attention towards and serving of everyone else resulted in you ignoring him.

Particularly bored, particularly needy, Dazai had been trying to get your attention all day. From playful flirting, telling you just how cute you looked, how tempted he was to keep you all to himself for the day, to less than playful pranks designed to have you running to him for help, or jumping into his conveniently nearby arms when you found a particularly nasty bug crawling over your computer mid-report, Dazai had tried almost everything to get your attention. Nothing had worked. All attempts had been met with a gentle smack of your hand and a half-hearted admonition to stop, a ‘Dazai! I’m busy!’ or, in the case of the bug, your outright ire.

“[Nickname]-chan! I want a coffee too!” Raising his arm his in the air Dazai waved so dramatically Atsushi beside him had to duck to avoid being smacked by the flailing appendage. The look you sent him was long-suffering and, heaving a sigh equally tired and fond, you promised you’d get to him in a minute.

That was it. The final straw placed over him, thinned patience snapping, Dazai made his decision. Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.

“But [Naaaaameeeeee]~” Drawing out your name in a whine Dazai let his chair roll across the floor as he stood, long legs taking him to where you stood in just a few steps, “I need your help with something!” Face too innocent, eyes too round and brow too pressed, you were immediately suspicious. Dazai had been, for whatever reason, harrassing you even more than usual today. You couldn’t say you minded, really. Attention from your boyfriend always a little flattering at the least, but you really didn’t have time for games today.

“It’s work related, I promise.” Putting one hand on his heart, raising the other as if to show his complete earnesty, you find yourself relenting. Perhaps he’s lying; knowing Dazai, it’s not entirely difficult to imagine that he may be playing with you again, saying whatever he knows will get you to bend. Still, on the off chance that he does want help with something, you aren’t about to turn him down.

“Alright, alright. As long as it’s work related.” Dazai’s grin is immediate, teeth flashing white from behind his ever so slightly parted lips. In seconds he has the trays of coffee in your hands set on a nearby desk and and a hand at your lower back, gently but hastily guiding you from the room.

“Of course! Would I ever lie to you~?” You bite back your retort but not your look of suspicion. Still, there’s no real bite to it, and no fight in your steps as you let Dazai guide you off to whatever destination he had in mind. Yes, he would absolutely lie to you - but not ever in a way that was truly malicious.

A fly trapped in honey, a bug caught in a spiderweb, Dazai had you exactly where he wanted you. Though his hum was innocent, skip in his step peppy, his eyes were those of a predator when he glanced at you: sharp, cunning, hungry. He’d known that, had circumstances called for it, he could always get your attention this way.

“Dazai, this is–!” Headed neither to reception for paperwork nor the entrance for a case, you had been suspicious. But, when Dazai had led you to the one unisex bathroom the next floor down, you were outright scandalized.

“Wh– Osamu!” Too surprised to argue with more than a high-pitched, stunned admonition, Dazai ushered you in easily, flicking the lock on the door and pinning you to the counter the sink rested upon.

“C’mon [Name]~ I’ve been so lonely with you ignoring me all day.” Try as you might not to be sucked into his guilt-tripping, the sad pout in his voice the tickle of his hair on your skin, warmth of his nose on your neck as he leaned closer to nuzzle against you, weakened your resolve.

“Osamu…” Tilting his head to press his forehead to your skin Dazai hid his smirk. He could hear the fight leaving your voice, the sympathy creeping in. With his hands on your waist he could feel you starting to relax, to give in.

“I… we’re at work.” The mischief in his eyes makes your stomach spin as Dazai’s head raises so his eyes can meet yours. Smirk stretching his lips, you can feel the way his eyelashes flutter against your own as he blinks ever-so-innocently.

“Oh? That hasn’t stopped us before~” Heat rushes in two directions at Dazai’s words and the memories they conjure. You attempt to turn away but a long-fingered hand catches your chin, keeping your head rooted firmly in place as Dazai leans close enough to let his lips brush yours.

“I’ve been thinking about you like this all day you know.” Was that true, or was he just saying it because he knew it made you weak in the knees? Hard as it was to say, both of you knew it was working.

“They’ll survive without us for a little while.” Each word was more convincing than the last, and Dazai’s knee sliding between your own was making it even more difficult to argue. He was right, after all: the ADA wouldn’t crumble because you were gone for a little while. Perhaps you could use a little bit of a break…

“You’ll indulge me a little bit…”

“…Won’t you?”

[princeasimdiya12]

Hey CU fandom. So I know I’m a little late to the CU OC party, but I honestly had a flash of inspiration the other night and I ended up thinking of these OCs inspired by my Mexican culture. ^_^

The woman on top is Esme Ranza (her name together would sound like ‘esperanza’ which means ‘hope’ in Spanish). She is the new principal who takes over Jerome Horwitz Elementary either as Krupp’s immediate successor or around the time George and Harold’s kids go to school. Like her name suggests, she brings a new radical change to the school environment that completely goes against the oppressive, totalitarian education system that Krupp used to rule with an iron fist. She recreates the system so that students are able to enjoy learning while also bringing back subjects such as art and music. In her heart, she believes that everyone whether child or adult has the potential to be the best they can be if given the opportunity. Her passion for this belief stems from her past as a civil rights supporter. She would engage in frequent protests and rallies made to bring awareness to how lacking the education system is along with how unfair many Hispanic/latino families are treated. Even with her new position, she still engages in protests if for the sake of the future. Regarding the superhero/supervillain activity in her community, Esme is accepting of the heroes for keeping the peace but would prefer if they stay away from her school as to avoid harming the children. Because of this, she has created new routines to protect the school in the event that a villain tries to attack or if a super battle ends up occurring near the facility.

Fun Facts about Esme Ranza

 Her design and character were based on La Muerte from the Book of Life and Rose Quartz from Steven Universe.

She spends her freetime working on her home garden which consists of every type of plant/flower she finds at the local nursery.

She knows a thing or two about making herbal medicines and teas which can heal most common sicknesses.

 She is open to the idea of dating and possibly marrying but hasn’t considered actually having kids of her own. She has a busy schedule and she knows that she wouldn’t be able to devote as much time to them. Plus in a sense, her students can be considered her children.

 One of her biggest goals that she hopes to accomplish is to skydive.

The man on the bottom is Mister Rio de Luna (his name together sounds like ‘mysterio de luna’ or ‘mystery of the moon’ in English). He’s a friendly but awkward young man who works full time at the local mini mart. He’s nice with the kids who hang around and is described as having the patience of a saint. Despite this, he often has a hard time holding a conversation with anyone. In truth, he actually holds a dark history to him.

He was actually involved in a secret agency that coordinated alien relations. Like contacting with aliens or studying alien technology that made it’s way to Earth’s territory. He served as a talented soldier who oversaw the events and made sure his superiors were safe. It was because of this that Rio was trusted enough to be involved in those relations. Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when it was revealed that his superiors were stealing the alien tech and killing off alien visitors in order to sell them on the black market. Feeling betrayed that his bosses were abusing aliens in order to gain profit, Rio turned on them by destroying their organization and exposing their secrets to the government. With his work finished, he faked his own death, remade his identity and sought refuge in a little town called Piqua. He tries to keep a low profile as to avoid drawing attention from the agency seeking revenge but sometimes he hates having to keep himself hidden and wishes to be free.

Fun Facts about Mister Rio del Luna

His short mustache and awkward behavior make him come off as a teenager when in truth he’s in his late 20s.

His mustache is so thin because he has to shave it off every other day to keep up his disguise.

He’s tried every junk food the mini mart has to offer and enjoys every single one.

He’s a fan of George and Harold’s comics and offers to sell them in the store. With the permission of his boss.

He was an orphan growing up and never bothered to learn if he had any potential family members.

And those are my OCs. And with that in mind, there’s something I’d like to say. If anyone in the CU fandom is interested in using these OCs in any way (like having them interact with your own OCs or be involved in your fanfics) you’re more than welcome to use them! But with that, I have three conditions that I ask you to follow.

Please let me know if you’re interested in using them.

Please be sure to credit me if you use them in any artwork or story.

Please treat them with care. I’m perfectly okay with you guys adding on to their personalities or backstories or even exposing them to angsty drama. I just ask that you treat them with enough care like you would your OCs.

That’s all you have to do. Thank you for your time and I hope you liked them!

PS There are some other OCs I have in mind that you guys can use so I may end up drawing them later on today or throughout the week. ;)

[jaded-envy]

hit the ground running

Soul's crush on the girl he sees jogging in the park is the one thing that makes his crappy barista job tolerable. Learning how to run in order to keep up with her might just kill him though. Also featuring Black*Star as a Total Bro.

READ HERE: [ao3] [ff.net]

Welcome to my first fic for the Soul Eater fandom and the culmination of my July 2017 Camp Nanowrimo goals! This is an entirely self-indulgent fic, as I started running with C25K this summer, but I do hope you enjoy!

A thousand thanks to my beta and writing sister, @redphlox - she is the best and the most awesome and please go read her SoMa fics if you haven't already! And I couldn't have finished this without the help from my husband, who provided much of the crazy Black*Star punishments.

“my heart could take a chance, but my two feet can’t find a way”

-I Don’t Feel Like Dancing by Scissor Sisters

“my girl’s a switchblade, bright lights on a cityscape,

wherever she goes, I’m gonna chase”

-Celeste by Ezra Vine

“so you say one day you’ll be my life, my love, my guiding light,

my pillar of strength; I’ll call you home, my rock, my stone”

- Testify by Hifi Sean and Crystal Waters

The windows of the café are smudged, and Soul resolves to make sure Hiro catches hell for screwing up the one thing that makes this job enjoyable.  At least it's not too hard to see out into the park beyond - he can see yellow and orange tinges on the leaves on the trees, and the ducks by the pond waddling around pulling at the grass. It's beautiful by most people's accounts, but Soul is looking for something that he thinks is much prettier.

"Whatcha looking at?"

Soul jumps a half a foot in the air and whirls around to see his least favorite customer and best friend lounging at the counter, looking bored.

"Is Jogging Chick passing by or something?" Black*Star raises up on his tiptoes, trying to look over Soul's shoulder. Soul uses his height to his advantage for once, drawing himself up completely and blocking him from the view of the window.

"No," Soul says, scowling. "Go away Black*Star, I'm busy working."

Black*Star makes a show of looking around the almost completely abandoned café. "Obviously."

He sighs. "What do you want?"

Black*Star shakes a finger in Soul's face, prompting him to bare his teeth in response. "Now Soul, is that any way to talk to a customer?"

Soul rolls his eyes. "Customers pay. You're here because you want to bum an espresso off me."

Black*Star gasps dramatically. "How could you suggest that I'm here for any other reason than to see how my best bro was doing and coincidentally buy a coffee with my own legally tendered currency, though now that I think about it I may have left my wallet at home…"

Soul tunes him out, subtly trying to keep the park in sight as he nods along to Black*Star's increasing loud excuses. Soul is contemplating giving in and just making him the damn coffee when he sees her.

"Shut up, shut up," Soul says absently, cutting him off and pushing Black*Star's face away as he cranes his neck around.

And there she is - the one thing that makes his crappy barista job worthwhile. With her blonde hair in pigtails, long toned legs, bright pink tank top, black shorts, Soul couldn't imagine a cuter sight. Her hands gesture animatedly, never breaking stride as she relates some story to her friend. When she laughs, he imagines her voice to be bright and cheerful; when she chances a glance at the street, he imagines her eyes to be lively and kind. Watching her run is like watching seals swim, or hawks glide - it's watching something so graceful, so in its element, and so far off from what he's capable of.

She's absolutely beautiful, and completely unobtainable.

Black*Star squints at Soul's object of affection. "That's her?" he asks, incredulous. "The skinny flat-chested one?" He side-eyes Soul. "That's the one?"

"Mmhm," Soul almost sighs.

Black*Star makes an indecipherable noise. The girl's pigtails bounce in time with the cadence of her gait.

"One time, some creep tried to grope her as she was drinking from the water fountain," Soul says dreamily, watching her. "She turned around and karate-kicked him in the head."

Black*Star raises an eyebrow. "And…you thought that was hot?"

Soul buries his face in his hands. "Yes," he mumbles from between his fingers. What he doesn't say is that he's pretty sure she could kick his ass three ways to Friday and he would enjoy every minute of it.

Black*Star shakes his head. "I mean, whatever floats your boat dude, but if I were you I'd be after that one." He points to the other girl, a taller, dark-haired woman. "Actually no," Black*Star revises, "you can keep your interest in the skinny one. The other one is more my style."

The two of them admire the girls as they run past. As they disappear from view, Soul resigns himself to another long, boring day with nothing else to look forward to. He tries not to dwell on the fact that the most exciting part of his day is over in about seven minutes.

"Tell you what, my best bro," Black*Star says, leaning on the counter. "I'm gonna do you a huge favor."

"Black*Star, the last time you told me that, I ended up crawling out of Mrs. Kearn's window after accidentally discovering her bondage porn collection."

He rolls his eyes. "You still got your cassette tape back before she chucked it."

"I couldn't look her in the eye for the rest of the semester," Soul hisses, fingers tightening on the edge of the counter.

Black*Star waves his protests away. "Listen. You have a morning shift again tomorrow right?"

"Yes," Soul says reluctantly.

"Good. Meet me in the park at four." Black*Star starts to move away, hollering, "And don't you dare try to skip, remember, I know where you live!"

"We're roommates you asshole!" Soul yells after him. He glances apologetically at the few customers in the shop, then blows out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck. Maybe it wasn't too late to move back to Connecticut.

The next day, Soul kicks at the leaves littering the asphalt of the park trail. There's a chill in the air heralding the onset of fall, and the few passersby wear scarves and hats. He shrinks into himself as much as possible, feeling like a complete dolt in the thin gym clothes Black*Star insisted he wear.

"All right!" Black*Star's voice rings out, entirely too cheerful. "Glad you could make it!" He hands a coffee cup to Soul.

Soul glares at him over the rim. "You dragged me out of here after kicking down my door and waking me up from my nap with a water balloon to the face."

"You weren't getting up!"

"That doesn't mean - ugh, whatever." He takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces. "This is horrible, where did you get this from?"

"Your coffee shop."

Soul sighs. Looks like Kid was going to have to be trained again on how to make a proper cup of coffee. Hopefully he wouldn't insist on counting out how many coffee beans went into the grinder like he did last time. "Why are we out here again?"

"Listen broski." Black*Star cracks his neck and starts doing lunges. "You wanna get together with your Jogging Chick, I wanna meet her bodacious friend. Now, we both know that there's a snowball's chance in hell of you just going up and asking the girl out because you're a total pansy."

"Hey!"

Black*Star raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, fair," Soul mutters.

"Anyway, I figure the only way to get both of us what we want is to meet them on their own turf, doing their thing."

"Wait," Soul says, heart sinking, "wait, you don't mean-"

"And that means running!"

Soul groans. "Black*Star, you know how I feel about physical activity."

"Well that's why we're out here late, so we can get started without running into them. Heh. Oh, by the way, think fast!"

Soul barely catches the object thrown at him, fumbling with what he identifies as his own phone.

"Took the liberty of loading your new exercise program on it."

"It's password protected, how the fuck did you get in?"

Black*Star holds a finger to his lips. "Gods don't reveal their secrets."

Soul groans, resolving to change his password for the third time this week. He scrolls through his apps, locates a new, obnoxiously bright orange one, taps it. "C25K?"

"I have all my clients use it if they want to try running, so I figured it'd work on you too. Load it up, we're gonna do the first week together. Week two, we'll run when the girls do and introduce ourselves that way."

Soul's tempted to turn on his heel and go spend the rest of his day off doing preferably anything else, but he recognizes the look in Black*Star's eyes - one that almost dares him to try wriggling his way out of this one. Last time he challenged that look, he ended up finding out exactly how many mousetraps could fit into his bedroom at once.

So he sighs instead and digs out his headphones. Black*Star bounces eagerly from foot to foot, leads him through some basic stretches, and falls in step with Soul when he starts his warm up walk.

Thirty minutes later, Soul is bracing himself against a tree, trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Black*Star has hardly broken a sweat and is currently doing one handed pushups. Soul kind of hates him.

Black*Star flips into a hand stand, then pushes off to stand normally as Soul slouches his way down the pathway towards their apartment. Black*Star shoves ahead of him and begins jogging backwards.

"Good job today buddy." He flashes Soul two thumbs up.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Soul grumbles.

"First day is always the hardest! You'll get the hang of it soon." His index fingers stick out to join his thumbs as he gives Soul two finger guns. "Then we'll get you hooked up with your crush -" he turns his fingers onto himself, "- and me with her lady friend."

Yeah right, Soul thinks to himself. Black*Star's always been a little deluded about Soul's motivation and dedication, being the complete opposite of him in both areas. If Soul had a shred of the drive Black*Star possessed, he'd be…well, he probably wouldn't be working at a coffee shop full time, with no real prospects on the horizon, and staring longingly out the window at a girl he knows he'll never work up the courage to meet.

By the third day of running, Soul's body seems to be adjusting to the increased activity it's being subjected to. Black*Star declares that three days from now, on Soul's next day off, they'll be meeting at one, the same time the girls usually run.

Soul almost bails three times before Black*Star forcibly drags him to the park. When he realizes there's no getting out of it, Soul insists that they get there at least a half hour early, partly in hopes that they'll be done with their session before his crush shows up. He doesn't think he could handle the first time she looks at him be a look of disgust, or worse, pity.

He almost gets his wish - they're on their fourth walking interval when through the trees he spots the two girls on the opposite side of the park. Soul's heart stutters in his chest and he almost slows to a stop, staring at her like a fucking moron. He can't help it though; without the windowpane separating them, she seems so much more vivid and within reach.

Then Soul remembers that he's currently incredibly sweaty and red-faced from running and not at all attractive. He picks up the pace, jogs faster when the program tells him to run, keeping one ear free of earbuds to listen for them.

It's in vain though - he can hear their footsteps behind him and their rapid fire speech over the sound of his music and the trudging of his feet. He keeps his eyes trained ahead, and doesn't look at them as they pull up next to him. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he doesn't think he can blame it just on exertion.

They pass him without even a glance his way, and he's just about to breathe a sigh of relief and settle back into familiar longing when Black*Star starts to pull ahead. One glance into his eyes and Soul's hissing his name, trying desperately to get him to not embarrass them or get them arrested.

Predictably, Black*Star ignores him, and Soul is forced to watch as his running partner/coach begins to catch up with the two. Instead of overtaking them, though, he falls into pace on the other side of the taller girl. Soul's crush shoots Black*Star a glare, and he can hear the fierceness in her tone as she addresses Black*Star, even though he's too far away to hear the actual words. They disappear around the bend, and Soul gives up on catching up to them, focusing instead on finishing his session. Worse comes to worse he'll just pretend not to know Black*Star and take his punishment for that later.

About ten minutes later, Soul spies the three standing near the water fountain. The girl is leaning forward, arms crossed, arguing with Black*Star, who is mirroring her pose - her friend stands between them, looking amused. Soul slows his pace, debating on whether to approach them or turn around and leave, when Black*Star sees him and makes an over-exaggerated gesture of "get over here!". Soul finds himself on the receiving end of three gazes, one curious, one suspicious and one sly, and reluctantly makes his way over.

"Here he is!" Black*Star crows, and Soul suppresses the urge to punch him. He hovers next to his loud-mouth friend, giving only a grunt and a nod in acknowledgement. Up close the girl is cuter than ever, with freckles and bright green eyes that are currently narrowed at him and Black*Star.

"We were just saying to your friend that we haven't seen you guys around the park before." Even her voice is attractive, and he feels completely tongue tied as she continues to scrutinize him. "Do you run here often?" she asks.

"He's just starting," Black*Star says, and Soul feels his face heat up.

The girl gives him an appraising look, then breaks out into a smile. "Good for you!" she says, sincere, and he flushes further. "I'm Maka." She sticks out her hand to shake. Soul goes to shake it, hoping he doesn't get her hand too sweaty.

"Tsubaki," the other girl says, giving him a small wave and a gentle smile.

Black*Star winks at her. "Black*Star. This sad lump here is Soul."

"Hey," Soul mutters.

"Turns out we go to the same dojo! Who would have thought huh? Maka here takes the morning classes though, so that's why we've never met."

"A true shame," Maka deadpans. Soul falls further. "Anyway, Tsubaki and I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you Soul." She gives him another brilliant smile that makes him duck his head.

"You too," he manages, studying his shoes.

"I'll see you at yoga class tomorrow Tsubaki!" Black*Star hollers. "Eight am!" Tsubaki gives him a thumbs up before jogging after Maka.

"Eight am?" Soul asks him slyly as they walk towards their apartment. "You never get up before noon. You passed up on a promotion at the gym because it would mean you start your shift at ten!"

"Got the promotion anyway because I'm so awesome," Black*Star responds. "Also, shut your piehole. Shouldn't you be mooning over the fact that you now know Jogging Chick's name? Don't think for a second that I didn't see you making eyes at her."

"Wasn't making eyes," Soul grumbles - then, at Black*Star's incredulous stare, "What about you, huh, I think if you flexed for her friend any more, your biceps would fall off."

"A body this good needs proper appreciation," he replies airily. "Don't be jealous, I flex for you plenty."

Soul shudders. "Please stop. In fact, just save it all for Tsubaki, she'll appreciate it more."

"That's the plan!" Black*Star sings as they cross the street.

They fall into a companionable silence for the rest of the way back, and it gives him time to think about the new developments in his love life (if he could even call it that). If he had been secretly hoping, just a little, that actually meeting her would make any potential feelings he had for her wither, well, that had been thrown out the window completely.

Maka. Soul mulls over the name, turning it over in his mind. He thinks of her sharp green eyes - her sarcastic, take-no-shit tone - her open, friendly smile. Maka.

The weekend after, Soul is rudely awakened, once again, by his asshole of a roommate, who bursts into his room and loudly announces that they're going to the basketball courts in twenty minutes so "get up and get dressed before I start to see how well your records act as frisbees."

Truthfully, basketball is one of the few forms of physical activity Soul can get behind, so it's with a minimal amount of grumbling that he gets ready. In fact, Soul is feeling pretty good up until Black*Star casually mentions that Tsu and his potential snugglebunny would be there too.

His only consolation is that Maka, apparently, did not seem to know that this was happening either.

"Soul!" Maka greets him enthusiastically, and Soul does his best to give her a cool nod in response. "I'm glad you're here. Did you know that this was going on?"

He shakes his head. They watch as Black*Star zooms over to Tsubaki, saying something that makes her giggle.

"I think she's really taken with him," Maka confesses quietly. She huffs. "Honestly, I'm not sure why…"

"Black*Star is a good guy," Soul protests, feeling weirdly protective. "He's loud and obnoxious and brash, yeah, but he's really loyal, and he's uh, helped me out a lot."

Maka hums. "I guess I can see that," she concedes. "Still, if he hurts Tsubaki I'll kick his ass."

"I'm sure you will," he says, and if it comes out a lot more admiringly than he meant it to, Maka doesn't seem to notice.

"Yo scrubs, get over here!" Black*Star calls.

Soul and Maka exchange a wordless glance of resignation.

"There's four of us, so we're gonna be on two teams. Soul, my bro, you take Maka here, and I'm gonna take Tsubaki."

"What exactly are we doing?" Maka asks.

"Basketball, duh."

"What? I don't know how to play basketball."

"What, didn't your boyfriend or girlfriend ever teach you?" Wow, subtle, Soul thinks, glaring daggers at Black*Star and trying not to cringe. Black*Star gives him a wink in response

"Don't have one," Maka responds briskly. "Ugh, fine, I'll play, but I need to look up the rules."

Black*Star looks at Soul like "seriously? You have a crush on her?" and Soul scowls at him in response. "Whatever," Black*Star says. "We're gonna warm up then."

They run a lap or two around the court, then move to the other end for lay-ups. "Did you hear that?!" Black*Star whispers at a volume roughly equivalent to an airhorn as he passes the ball to Soul. "She's single!"

"Shut up!" Soul hisses, frantically checking to see if Maka heard. Luckily she seems too preoccupied with reading the rules of basketball on her phone (what a nerd, he thinks far too fondly) to have heard Black*Star. "That doesn't even mean anything," he says. "She could not be into guys for all we know."

Black*Star takes a deep breath and Soul just about falls over in stuffing his hands over Black*Star's mouth before he could do something stupid like ask her about her gender preferences. Black*Star grimaces and struggles, but Soul keeps an iron grip on him until he finally stops moving and rolls his eyes instead. Soul carefully removes his hands, and relaxes slightly when all Black*Star does is sigh. "She's into guys, trust me," he says. "She was totally checking you out when you were running."

Soul scowls. "No she wasn't," he says, but still turns his head to look at Maka, still staring intently at her phone, as if he could catch her in the act.

Black*Star shrugs. "If you say so dude. Hey dorkzilla!" he yells across the court. "We gonna play or what?"

Maka looks up and the fire in her eyes does weird things to Soul's stomach. "What did you just call me?" she growls as she stuffs her phone in her pocket.

"We can do a practice game first, since I'm a gracious god," Black*Star says magnanimously.

Maka favors Black*Star with a wicked smile. "Bring it on, Smurf."

Maka's really, really terrible at basketball.

"You really suck at this," Soul says when the ball bounces off the court for the fifth time after she fumbled with dribbling.

"Thanks, tell me something I didn't know," she grumbles. "Can't I just hold the ball and dribble occasionally?"

"No, that's called double dribbling and is against the rules," he says again patiently.

"Ugh!" She throws her hands up in the air. "This is so confusing and makes no sense!"

"It makes perfect sense," he insists. He casts around for something for her to do that doesn't involve touching the ball. "Look," he says, "how about you guard Black*Star while I try to get the ball."

She looks a little cheered at that, and eagerly jogs to get in front of Black*Star. Soul takes Tsubaki as she comes back from retrieving the ball. He keeps his eyes trained on hers, and when she moves to toss it, he easily reaches up and knocks it off course with the tips of his fingers. Quick as lightening, he regains control of the ball and dashes down the court, sinking the ball into the net.

"Yes!" he cheers, only to become aware of the squabbling happening off to the side.

"SOUL!" Black*Star bellows, sounding a little strangled. Soul turns to see him struggling in a chokehold, face a slight tinge of red. "GET YOUR GIRL-"

"MAKA!" Soul interrupts loudly. "You're not supposed to touch him! Just block him from getting the ball."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" Maka drops her grip to cross her arms.

Black*Star takes a deep overdramatic gasp of air and glares at her. "Overpowered pipsqueak," he says with a begrudging tone of respect.

"Hyperactive buffoon," Maka replies easily.

Tsubaki claps her hands together. "Should we start playing for score now?"

Soul hesitates, glancing at Maka. She catches his eye. "I think I understand it now," she insists. "No double dribbling, can't touch the other person, put the ball into the net." She flashes him a smile and a thumbs up that does nothing to reassure him but has his face heating anyway.

They're losing terribly. Soul stopped keeping track of the score fifteen points ago.

It doesn't help that Black*Star seems to be hellbent on winning. Normally, Soul can hold his own against Black*Star. Actually, Soul would wager he's slightly better at basketball - he's got the reach and the precision that Black*Star, for all of his superior speed, strength and stamina, doesn't have. When they play one on one, they usually come out pretty evenly, maybe even slightly in Soul's favor.

But for whatever reason, Black*Star seems to be pulling out all the stops this game, including parkouring up the basketball pole for a dunk.

"I thought you were supposed to be helping me!" Soul growls as he attempts to slap the ball away from his so called friend.

"I am!" Black*Star retorts, easily dodging. "She's pathetic at this game, making you look bad will give you a chance to bond!"

"That is not helping," he grits out as Black*Star backs off, before running straight at him and literally sliding between Soul's legs. He then proceeds to take a shot, which bounces off the rim, then springs into the air with the help of Tsubaki's laced fingers to catch the ball and dunk it. "Yahoo!" he shouts, pumping his fist in the air.

An hour later, they declare the game over. Tsubaki and Black*Star win by 35 points.

"Well that was a disaster," Soul says, sitting next to Maka on the bench, watching Black*Star chat up Tsubaki across the court.

Maka flicks her hair out of her face. "Sorry," she huffs, crossing her arms.

"'S okay." He shrugs. "I still had fun. Playing with you I mean."

Out the corner of his eye he can see her scrutinizing him, probably judging whether he's sincere or not. He keeps his face carefully blank, looking away from her.

"I had fun too," she admits finally. "Thanks for helping me out."

He shrugs again, but can't help the smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth. "We'll beat them next time," he assures her.

Her eyes brighten. "Yeah!" she says, jumping up. "I'm sure the library has some books on basketball. Next time I'll definitely know the rules."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "What?" she asks, defensive.

"Nothing," Soul says, standing up. She narrows his eyes at him. "You know," he begins, trying to adopt a casual tone, "if you uh, wanted to practice, we could play. Together. Sometime. Whenever." He bites his tongue to stop more inane words from spilling out.

"Sure," she says. Soul does an internal fist pump as they exchange phone numbers.

The edges of the sky are just starting to turn dusky when Maka and Tsubaki decide to call it a day.

"See you around?" Soul says, hopeful, as they gather their jackets.

"See you around!" Maka confirms, waving goodbye.

Black*Star flashes Soul a thumbs up that is about as subtle as a brick to the face. He can only hope that she didn't see that, though a burst of quiet giggles from Tsubaki lets him know that at least one other person witnessed it.

"Well that went well," Black*Star says. "Want to have a rematch? Try to scrape together some of your pride after we kicked your ass so thoroughly?"

Soul shakes his head. "I'm good." He begins to walk away in the direction of their apartment, but pauses when he realizes Black*Star isn't following him. "You comin'?" he asks.

Black*Star stretches. "You go on ahead. And don't wait up, I have a date tonight."

Soul's mouth drops open. "What? Tonight?"

Black*Star rolls his shoulders. "Yu-p! Tsubaki and I are gonna go out to that pho shop on 6th Ave."

"Already? You already asked her out? What did you even say?"

He gives him a strange look. "I told her that I thought she was attractive and if she was interested, I'd give her the opportunity to go on best date she's ever been on."

"H - how," Soul manages, "how are you good at this."

"Well I can't blame her for wanting to get it on with a god," Black*Star says, preening, "but ladies love confidence, man."

Soul chews on his lip. "Really?"

"Yeah dude! You gotta show them that you're worth their time! Why would they want to date you if you don't think you're worthy of it?"

Soul mulls this over. Black*Star catches his expression, and quickly amends, "Obviously you don't want to be an asshole, she doesn't owe anything to you, but confidence is sexy!"

He has a point, Soul is forced to agree. He thinks about Maka's smirk, the challenge in her eyes when Black*Star goads her into racing him, the assuredness in her stance when she tells off some guy for catcalling her or Tsubaki.

"Maybe you're right," he concedes.

"Of course I'm right," Black*Star scoffs. "Now off with you peon, I've got to warm up for my date."

He settles into a routine. Three times a week, Soul pulls on his gym clothes and pulls up a playlist before trudging over to the park, where he spends a half hour cursing out the little voice telling him when to walk and run. Sometimes Black*Star joins him, sharing entirely too much detail about his relationship with Tsubaki. Sometimes Tsubaki joins the both of them, which is always worse because of the extra details she adds to Black*Star's lewd stories.

Maka isn't always there at first - he still stops to watch her run past the coffee shop whenever he's on a morning shift - but when he mentions the times he's been running at, she starts to show up more often. She'll lap him with a cheerful shout and a wave, and he can't find it in himself to berate his slow pace when it means he's watching her from behind. Sometimes she'll loop back around after she's finished running around the park, joining him for his intervals.

His five minute cooldown walk begins to turn into a half hour walk around the block with Maka, and soon enough he's meeting her for long wandering journeys on the days he's not running. They explore the city together, sometimes chatting or arguing as they thread through back alleys and narrow side streets, sometimes not saying anything at all, just admiring the trees and buildings in a comfortable quiet. He never realized before how little he's seen of the city he's called home for the past three years. And seeing it through Maka's eyes is refreshing - where he notices litter on the ground, she calls his attention to an intricate, gothic design on the side of a building. He wrinkles his nose at squashed restaurants that look like the last time they were mopped was when the place was built; she orders Mexican food at a suspicious looking food truck and it ends up being the best taco he'd ever had.

They're walking down one of the areas a little outside of the old district. Maka's balancing on a short wall, teasing him that she's taller than he is as he looks up at her. Every once and a while, she gets a little wobbly and reaches out for his shoulder to steady herself. He grumbles half-heartedly, pretending to be annoyed to hide his pleasure at her brushing against him.

"Hey uh, Maka," he starts.

"Hmm?"

"I uh…" Crap, this was so much easier when he was practicing in his mirror, Black*Star's obnoxious remarks notwithstanding. He squares his shoulders. "I made you a playlist."

"You did?" she exclaims, hopping down in front of him.

Soul nods, and pulls out his phone and a pair of earbuds. "Here," he says, unlocking the phone and handing it to her. "You can listen. If you want. Or later, if you didn't want to now…"

She's already popped the headphones in her ears and is bopping along to the music. "Hey this is pretty good!" she says too loudly.

"Thanks," he mutters, pleased.

"What?"

"Thanks," he says louder as she takes an earbud out to hear him better.

"You should listen to my stuff too!" Maka shoves her phone at him. His heart skips a beat when he realizes her background photo is the selfie they took in front of a random statue of some short beaked thing with a cane and top hat. The two of them are smiling widely as they mimic the statues ridiculous pose, and his stomach does flip-flops as he loads up her music program.

"Wow," he says about halfway through a song. "This is…this is what you listen to?"

"Yeah! I love Owl City!" She hums a few bars for him, off-key. "Are you a fan too?"

"No way in hell," he says, wincing at the synthesized warble in the singer's voice.

As she punches him in the shoulder, he realizes suddenly how easy this all is - how he doesn't feel like clamming up around her, how he doesn't worry about saying the wrong thing or upsetting her. How he's slowly stopped thinking that she'll eventually realize that he's not that interesting, or bold, or as quick as she is, and will drop out of his life.

He pauses in the middle of the sidewalk. Maka walks on, but stops and turns back when she sees he isn't following. She pulls the earbuds out of her ear. "Soul?"

"Maka," he says, swallowing hard. 

She tilts her head.

Ladies love confidence, he reminds himself as he opens his mouth. "I…" He clears his throat. "I…uh…" His hands tremble, and he stuffs them in his pocket as he opens his mouth to try again. "You…I mean, I…like…"

"Soul?" She's looking at him in concern now, and he feels the last of his nerve die as she takes a tentative step closer. "Are you okay? What do you like?"

"I really like this song!" he blurts out, shying away from her.

Her face brightens. "You do?"

"Yeah, uh -" he checks the screen, “- Waving Out The Window? It's um, good."

"I have the whole album!" she exclaims. "I can lend it to you if you want!"

"That would be great," he lies, sending a mental apology to his eardrums.

The long, lonely walk home is spent in loud, berating contemplation. His internal dialogue, which sounds suspiciously like the voices of his parents and teachers, presents irrefutable evidence of his cowardice and utter incompetence. Soul has no choice but to agree that he is a disappointing waste of space, like he always does.

But something must be changing in Soul, because when he gets back to his apartment building and looks up to see the flashing light of the TV spilling outside of the living room window, he suddenly knows what he has to do.

Soul knows in about thirty seconds, he's going to regret what he's about to do. No - regret is too soft a word for what his future self is going to feel towards the present him. Loathe? Abhor? Detest? Maka would be proud of him with the number of synonyms he can conjure for his future emotional state.

Well, future him could suck it. Bastard is always taking advantage of the suffering present Soul is going through. Case in point - this whole ridiculous running plan.

"Black*Star, I need your help."

"Anything for you best bro," he replies, not even bothering to glance up from the video game he's playing.

"I like Maka."

Black*Star rolls his eyes. "Tell the world something it didn't know."

Soul ignores him. "But I don't want to say anything because…"

"You're chickenshit."

"Basically," Soul says, not even bothering to deny it this time. "I need you to keep me honest."

"Oh?" Black*Star pauses his game and turns around, finally invested in the conversation.

"When I can complete a full circuit around the park without stopping or dying, I'm going to ask her out." Soul had picked the goal very carefully - it was equally likely that he would give up completely, in which case he didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of her saying no to him, or that he would actually complete it, in which case he could play asking her if she'd go out with him as a celebration of his achievement.

Black*Star squints at him. "Still don't get why you can't do it now, but you do you bro. What do I get out of this?"

Here came the hard part. Soul takes a deep breath. "If I don't ask her out, you can pick my punishment."

"Really?" It's like Soul told Black*Star that Christmas was coming early this year, and the sudden gleam in his eyes has shivers running down his spine. "You're letting me decide."

"Yes."

"You remember what happened last time I passed judgement onto you."

"Yes," Soul grinds out, "how could I forget." He still wasn't welcome back at his favorite Italian restaurant.

Black*Star's ever widening grin is distinctly unreassuring. "Oh man. I can't decide now if I want you to succeed or not."

Soul scowls, and Black*Star cackles, throwing an arm around him. "I'm just joking, of course I'm pro-Soulie boy getting with his lady. Still though…"

"Well I'm going to do it, so don't think too hard," Soul snaps. Black*Star just raises an eyebrow at him, which makes Soul insist, "I am, I can already run for fifteen minutes without dying." Maybe just five minutes at a time, but whatever, technicalities.

"And I am proud of you for that, broseph. You and Maka are gonna be the sappiest, mushiest, cutest couple - after Tsubaki and me of course." He smacks Soul's back a couple of times, making him stumble and wince. "Don't worry bro. I got your back."

That's what Soul's afraid of, and exactly what he's banking on to get him to go through with something for once in his life.

"Yeah what can I get you?" Soul asks, squinting down at the filter he's cleaning.

"Hi Soul!"

His head whips up. Maka stands in front of him, dressed in a black trench coat that hides her workout clothes. Her elbows rest against the counter, gloved hands cradling her face as she gives him a smile that makes his face hot and his hands shaky.

"M-Maka!" He almost drops the filter, and tries to pass it off as him smoothly putting it down on the counter. "H-how did you know I worked here?"

Maka blinks. "Black*Star told me."

Like so many other moments over the past month, Soul wavers between wanting to strangle and wanting to high five his best friend.

"Oh!" Maka says, peering behind his shoulder. "You've got a great view of the park from here." She smiles at him, and he feels his heart thump painfully in his chest. "You must see Tsubaki and I run by pretty often huh?"

"No," he blurts out. "No, I uh, am usually too busy working to look outside." Fuck, why did he say that? It wouldn't have been that weird to just say he sees them, but would she have thought it was creepy? It was kind of creepy, honestly…

Maka hums noncommittally. "I see."

"Uh, did you want to order something?"

She orders a mocha. When Maka goes to pay, he shakes his head, pushing away her credit card. "On the house," he insists, ignoring her protests.

He takes his time to make the best damn mocha the shop's ever seen, and finishes it off by creating a little flower of steamed milk in the drink. He presents it to her with a flourish, and basks in her praise.

Unfortunately, she came at one of the busier times at the café and can't linger at the counter. She moves to one of the tables nearest to him and pulls out a book, and he sneaks glances at her while his hands are on autopilot making drinks for the customers.

That is, until -

"What's up Soul," Black*Star greets him. "The girls run by yet?" He fiddles with his phone, completely oblivious to the frantic aborting motions that Soul is making.

Maka looks up at the sound of Black*Star's voice, and Soul drops his arms, giving her a weak smile. "I wouldn't know Black*Star," he squeaks.

Black*Star snorts. "Yeah right, you stare out that window watching for Maka so much that someone could hold up the store and you wouldn't even notice."

"ANYWAY, what can I get you," Soul rushes to say, as Maka cocks her head curiously. "I'll pay," he says desperately, feeling a deep flush work its way down his neck.

Black*Star immediately brightens. "Awesome! Well in that case…"

After Black*Star leaves with his six dollar caffè macchiato, Maka sidles up to him.  "You're awfully generous to your friends Soul," she says, corner of her mouth twitching.

"Not really," he mutters, busying himself with wiping down the counter. "Just…just special ones."

"And Black*Star is one of them?"

"No," he spits out, "he's just really good at being annoying."

A pause, and then, "And me?"

Soul's heart hammers in his chest so loudly that he doesn't even hear himself when he mumbles, very quietly, "Special case." It only beats harder at the slow smile that spreads across her face.

The next day, Maka waves at him through the window as she runs past the store. Soul's hands dance between his face and his pockets before they compromise, one of them giving her a shy wave, the other one coming up to rub away a goofy grin.

Fall is winding down, and Soul can feel himself getting stronger, gaining stamina with every workout. He can't believe it's already been a month and a half since Black*Star dragged him into this fiasco. A month and a half of way too much sweat and exercise.

A month and a half since he was properly introduced to Maka - Maka, who he now knows uses books as both entertainment and as weapons - Maka, who hates raw fish and loves white chocolate - Maka, who texts him every night with a different grumpy cat gif, claiming they look exactly like him, who somehow always has some place new for them to explore, something new for them to look at. She's so much more than the attractive jogger he would stare at through the window, dreaming up scenarios where she would suddenly notice him and ask him out. So different from what he imagined her to be like - quieter and nerdier and more uncertain, but just as bold and strong and kind. Whatever happens - if he finishes, if he confesses - it doesn't matter as much as the fact that she's part of his life in some way.

His phone vibrates and dings as the automated voice announces that his workout is complete. He stops, breathing hard, and sits down on a bench, throwing his arms around the back and looking up to the deepening sky.

A crush. A workout. And at the beginning of all of it, a friend.

"Hey Black*Star."

"Hmm?" Black*Star pauses his one handed pull ups to look at Soul.

"I uh." Soul clears his throat awkwardly. "Wanted to uh, say…thanks for helping me out with Maka. I wouldn't, you know, have met her or anything if you hadn't…"

Black*Star flicks away his words. "Say no more dude. You know I've always got your back."

"Yeah," Soul confirms, "yeah I know. Still." He brings out an envelope from behind his back and offers it to Black*Star, who lets go of the bar to take it.

Black*Star pulls out two pieces of paper from the envelope. "What's this?"

"Uh, tickets. To the symphony. The one that you had wanted to take Tsubaki to for your one month anniversary and waited in line for tickets for five hours before being told they had just sold out?"

"No shit!" Black*Star's mouth drops open as he stares at the tickets. His eyes dart up to Soul and he squints, suspicious. "Wait, how did you get them?"

"Well I…kinda pulled a couple of strings…?"

"You…" Realization dawns in his eyes, and Soul shuffles his feet uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Soul confirms. "Yeah I uh, talked to Wes -”

"Wes, like, your brother Wes?"

"What other Wes would there be Black*Star."

"Wes, like, your perfect brother that you haven't talked to in a decade?"

"It's only been three years," Soul mutters. His ears still hurt from Wes' squealing when he answered the phone.

"What did he say when you called?"

Soul shrugs. "Not much," he lies, choosing not to tell him about how Wes alternated between crying and yelling and lecturing all while prying out every detail of his little brother's mundane life for two hours.

Black*Star hesitates. "And…your parents? Now that Wes knows where you are, are they gonna…?"

Soul blows out a sigh. "…They were gonna find out eventually." He stares at his hands - his precise, long fingers. Perfect for playing piano, his parents told him, over and over until he felt like that's all like they were good for, all he was good for. "…They can't really do much to me now anyway. And…it's like you said. I can't keep hiding forever."

Black*Star stares at the tickets in his hand before putting them back into the envelope as carefully as Soul's ever seen him handle something.

The scent of Axe body spray washes over Soul as Black*Star engulfs him in a hug, one that's made all the more awkward by the height difference between them. "You're the best bro a bro could have Soul," Black*Star sniffs.

"Yeah," Soul says, smiling as he pats his best friend's back. "You too Black*Star. You too."

"One minute left," the tinny voice encourages him. He clings to that as he rounds the bend. Just one minute. Before the end of this song is done it'll be over. Just keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop -

Ding! "Your workout is complete."

Soul slows to a stop, mind replaying the words.

"I did it," he says, disbelieving.

"I did it," he says again, and feels like shouting it, maybe even channeling Black*Star and adding a "yahoo!" at the end.

Black*Star and Tsubaki wave wildly from a bench halfway across the park as he looks over to them. Black*Star stands up on the bench, cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, "I TOLD YOU!"

Soul grins, shaking his head. Black*Star stabs a finger in the direction that Soul just came from. Soul turns around and -

There she is. She hasn't noticed him yet, looking at her phone, and Soul had specifically gotten here before her workout time so that he could bail out if he needed to but -

Maybe this is what they call runner's high, or maybe it's just Soul actually achieving something he never thought he'd even try doing for once, but he doesn't even need Black*Star's nod or shooing motion to send him off - he's already running towards Maka, calling her name.

She stops and waits for him, smiling. He pushes his muscles to run faster, and a tiny part of him marvels when his body obeys without complaint as he flies towards her.

He skids to a stop in front of her, only panting a little bit. The sun is filtering through the leaves and casting dappled shadows on her face, glinting gold off of her hair, and her eyes are bright and fond as she looks at him expectantly, and in that moment he wants to tell her - wants to tell her that he started this for her but finished it for him, wants to thank her for encouraging and supporting him and never making fun. He wants to tell her that he loves their early morning walks and late night texts, that he thinks she's amazing and smart and strong, that he probably never would have finished if she didn't make it more fun than torture, that he wants - that he loves -

"I like you please go out with me." Soul says in a rush.

Maka's face changes from fondness to confusion. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," he mumbles, resisting the urge to use his new stamina to run the fuck away.

"I…no? Sorry, you said it so fast, could you say it again?"

"Uh." Where was Black*Star and his menacing "you won't believe the things I have in store for you" grin when he needed it? Maka's looking at him curiously and god dammit past Soul was the absolute worst -

But he wasn't about to give up now. Soul takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, tries to look Maka in the eye but ends up sticking his gaze somewhere in the vicinity of her shoulder instead. "I like you," he says again. "And I've really enjoyed getting to know you. And I would like to take you out to dinner." Did he just say that? He just said that. "As a date," he clarifies. He's on a roll. "Though uh, you don't have to if you don't want to." Wait, wasn't he on a roll? "We could uh, just celebrate me actually being able to keep up with you." Apparently it was more of a slow tumble. "Or uh, not." Off of a cliff. "You know what, just ignore me -”

"I would love to go out on a date with you."

Soul looks up from his shoes. "R-really?" he stammers.

She nods, smiling. He takes a hesitant step forward, and she meets him halfway, drawing closer until their running shoes are almost touching. "I was actually thinking of asking you out tomorrow," she says, peering up at him shyly through her bangs. "But you beat me to it."

"I…I did?"

She's close enough now to bump him gently with her shoulder, sending a tingling buzz through his body. "I like you, dummy," she says, and that combined with the way she's grinning at him, looking a little shy and embarrassed herself, makes him feel like he's as light as air.

"So where do you want to go for dinner?" she asks, entwining her fingers in his.

"Well uh, I was thinking maybe that Lebanese place we found last week, you know, by the shoemaker?"

Her eyes light up, and then take on a mischievous look. "Race you there."

He smirks back, heart racing forward for once instead of shrinking back. "You're on."

She takes off, and he follows, knowing she'll outstrip him in a heartbeat, but that she'll be waiting patiently for him to catch up at the end. He lets her peel ahead and focuses instead on making the world turn beneath his feet, setting his own pace.

He'll get there eventually.

Thank you for reading! Comments and criticisms much appreciated!

[canvaswolfdoll]

CanvasWatches: My Little Pony the Movie

Well, I’m obligated to write about this film, aren’t I? I like animation, light fantasy, world building, overthinking children’s entertainment, and I am a Brony of waxing and waning interest, so, sure, better actually get out to a theater for The Movie.

Luckily for my brother and I, my advice to attend a later screening (21:45) not only granted reprieve from children young and old, but also literally anyone else. We had the theater to ourselves.[1]

So I got to riff the commercials and talk during the movie. I… don’t know if my brother appreciates me doing that, or if he’s resigned himself to it just being how I am, because I do it constantly whenever it’s just the two of us watching. He’s never asked me to stop, though, so oh well.

Anyways, I went in with as little (non-show) information as possible, skipping commercials, early released songs, and the Prequel Comics, because I wanted to make sure the movie held up by it’s own merit as much as possible.

So, first, a quick overview of Canvas in relation to ponies!

I watched the first episode because the creator of El Goonish Shive had remarked about liking it, and I heard there was a reference to Doctor Who in the show. So, I downloaded the first episode off iTunes, because it was free, then bought the second because it wasn’t free, but the pilot’s story was incomplete. I thought it was okay, and would’ve left it there, but then Vulpin kept going, and I got swept up. We caught up to the release dates with Owl’s Well that Ends Well and have clung on since.

I wrote a couple fanfics, my first and only serious efforts in the field, and lovingly gazed upon the fandom as it grew.

In general, I say the show was at it’s best with Season Two, and has otherwise been uneven since. Some amazing episodes came later, but some luster was lost with the departure of Lauren Faust. I keep watching because nothing’s made me rage quit, and it’s been relatively easy to keep going through momentum.

Scootaloo is best pony.

Now I can talk about the movie.

My initial impression was ‘Oh boy, this is a little too well animated’. An odd complaint, but the improved lipflaps, more varied movements, and 2D animation on CG backgrounds was disorienting for my Flash-adjusted eyes. However, as I starting watching out for the many cameos[2] front loaded into Canterlot, I grew accustomed, and once the plot really kicks off, I was used to it.

The plot was essentially that of a Season Opener or Closer, with a couple points of character development carefully rolled back to allow conflict and reduce continuity lockout for parents and others unfamiliar with the franchise as it currently stands.

The movie opens with Twilight planning a “Friendship Festival” taking place in Canterlot. All the ponies are excited, it’s being headlined by Songbird Serenade, a character freshly introduced as if we’ve always known her, and voice by Sia, a performer I literally never heard of until she was announced to be guest starring in this movie, but she is apparently supposed to be some kind of draw?

Actually, I don’t know any of the big-name stars for this film, which I’m okay with, since I prefer ability over recognition.

Anyways, Twilight attempts to approach the other three princesses to get them to use their personal magics to improve the festival, but the other three are all “Look, Twilight, none of us have done anything of substance on screen, and we’re not going to start now.”

So instead Twilight goes and checks on how her friends are doing on preparations and give us a song.

It’s a nice song.

Then the Storm King’s forces invade!

Who is the Storm King? What is his motivation? How does he relate to ponies?

So this invading force is lead by Tempest Shadow and…

Look, I don’t know the deal with The Storm King, okay? I haven’t read the prequel comics yet, and the movie gives no direct backstory, only implying how things kind of are? And that would’ve been fine if they kept the Storm King off mic more often. But he’s given a presence, and is equal parts amusing and threatening.

Which puts him in an awkward position, narratively speaking, because he has too much personality to be a force of nature villain and too little history to be a strong narrative villain. Besides, Tempest does a good job of being the narrative villain, so the Storm King is just kind of poorly executed.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked his dialogue. He had some very funny lines, but it was poorly implemented. Maybe those lines should’ve been moved to Grubber to transform him from bad comedic relief (in both senses) into Tempest’s leash, reminding her about the bargain she and the Storm King have.

Tempest, meanwhile, was the actual looming threat, and was well written and given motivations. You understand, within the context of the movie, why she’s doing what she’s doing, and fans of the show know how devastating it would be for a unicorn to lose her horn.

Now, would I perhaps prefer they move away from the ‘rejected as a young pony, so screw everyone’ narrative they keep using to oppose Friendship? Sure. Maybe have some backstory where Tempest was part of a Celestia-sent brigade to combat the Storm King, only to be abandoned by her fellow soldiers. Bam! Reason to turn on Friendship, child-appropriate darkness, and a different narrative. Plus, that puts her in the hands of the Storm King within the scope of the movie and gives an opening for Celestia to offer a bit more exposition (and thus have an actual narrative role.)

Grubber is a bad character, and outside of the above recommendation of altering his and Tempest’s dynamic, I wish they’d drop him off the side of an airship. He’s just your usual ‘Minion who likes to eat’ character, with nothing added. Which is unfortunate, because My Little Pony’s been pretty good about taking old character tropes and spinning them into something new and interesting.

The Mane Six (plus Spike) are on their usual form. Pinkie Pie, being the pink one, acts as a sort of backup protagonist, pulling the narrative weight Twilight can’t. Rarity also gets her moment, as does tomboy Rainbow Dash, as a sort of spectrum of showing how you can be valuable regardless of your personal femininity. Applejack and Fluttershy are just there for support, which works. Not every pony needs a big song and dance.

Twilight is still uncertain about herself and her role as a princess,[4] and she nearly ruins everything by trying to steal a Macguffin while using Pinkie and the others as distraction. This is, of course, to set up the third act ‘Everyone mistrusts the hero’ conflict which the formula demands.

However, speaking to the skillful twisting of tropes, we get an onscreen acknowledgement with the great line of ‘It’s about time we talk to Twilight.’ This lampshades the cliche plot point, implies everypony was merely taking a moment to cool off and collect themselves, and justifies the event.

Of course, Twilight’s been captured by Tempest, and the villain tries to use Twilight’s sudden loneliness to turn her against Friendship, but Twilight never believes she’s been abandoned. It’s strongly implied that she knows her friends were always coming back, and they all just needed a healing moment.

So that’s a strong point in the movie’s favor.

The set-up for act three is full of good lampshade hanging. Applejack identifies Capper’s elegant speech as a means to hype the ponies back up, and once the full strike force is assembled, Spike makes a pointed comment that all their new friends are there, so they should stop waiting and get planning.

When the writing’s on point, it’s really on point.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have my usual complaints. This time, it’s in regards to consistency in world building.

So, the world of My Little Pony has drifted over the years, which is broadly fine, because art needs space to breath and transform, but at the same time, there are still boundaries and rules that the audience will pick up on and which need to be obeyed.

When the current generation started, Equestria was a quasi-medieval fantasy world, with limited technology. Lights were provided by fireflies, books appeared like parchment, trains had to be pulled by teams of ponies. This has been progressively dropped, and the Equestria we see is much more modern with a thin coat of pulp fantasy. I’m fine with this change, because it was gradual and occurred as a means to open narrative options. And computers still aren’t a thing, so that’s still a nice, subtle limitation to justify the use of magic.

Another gradual change I’m less happy with is allowing sticky hooves and prehensile tails. Originally, there was a strict ban on ponies being able to just pick things up with their hooves, and use of other bodies parts at least had to look reasonable. Then pegasi started to use their wings like hands, tails gained increased dexterity, and so on. Which means we lose a significant portion of the neat background details that showed how ponies make their technology operate.

Even Pinkie, who can be granted allowance for her Looney Tunes shenanigans, has also seen a drift in her abilities to keep up with these changes.

However, one (admittedly vague) law had remained intact until this movie: the nature of the sentient fauna. There are no humans in Equestria, and presumably the rest of the world (the actual nature of Equestria, geopolitically, is a headache I can’t begin to broach. Ponies, for the longest time, were the dominate species, the builders of society. Those creatures that were sentient outside of Ponyhood were either also hoofed creatures (who enjoy a confusing second-class citizenship that is rife for pondering), or classical mythological creature: Griffins, dragons, and the like. Those are the society and culture builders, and most are still quadruped. Hands are still an alien concept[5], and all other animals are as they are in our world (with a little cartoon intelligence for gags.)

But in the Movie there’s Capper, an anthropomorphic cat that stands at human height. No mythological origins, and capable of speech in opposition to Rarity’s own Opalescence and other cats we’ve seen in the series. He’s given no explanation or origin, and our main characters just accept him as is. And he has hands.

In fact, exploring the world beyond the Badlands just raises so many questions that don’t even get a cursory nod. Most of the residents (also vague anthropomorphic animals) seem broadly unaware of ponies which… fine, maybe Equestria has a closed borders policy, but their royalty literally raise the sun and moon. Equestria controls their own weather and nature.[6] Luna’s profile was literally shoved on the moon for a thousand years! How aren’t ponies a well known thing?

Then we meet some griffins, and they turn out to be bipedal, which not only breaks the implied canon of sentient races, but established canon on a preexisting race.

Now, I liked the plot and dialogue of all these characters, but the world beyond the Badlands shakes our preconceived notions of what this world is like. Which is bad. The regular audience has occupied the fiction’s world for seven years now. Like it or not, they’ve picked up on how things are supposed to work, and the movie’s breaking the rules.

Which would be okay.  Rules exist so you think before you break them, but the movie isn’t thinking. It just tosses the rules aside without giving narrative weight to the act. Neither Twilight nor other ponies are confused by seeing a cat man suddenly fast-talking them. He looks out of place - and no other cat people are shown - so even in the context of the movie he looks alien, but nothing about it is explained.

I think that’s been the true reasoning behind my gradual deflating love of the franchise. The individual stories have been good, but the worldbuilding been breaking itself, and I dislike that inconsistency.

In summary: I liked the story of the movie, Tempest is an interesting character, but the worldbuilding shown makes me wish it were non-canon.

Guess I’ll just have to wait to see how it plays out with future episodes.

Kataal kataal.

[1] What do theaters do if no one comes to a screening? Do they still play the film to keep the system running, or do they let the projector rest? [2] I, admittedly, cheered a little upon seeing Sepia Tock[3] hanging about. [3] I am clinging to this interpretation until I die, try and stop me! [4] As is everyone else, quite frankly. Why is Twilight a princess? [5] My editor would like to point out Spike has hands, and Griffons use their fore talons in a hand like manner. However, those are referred to as claws and talons, and, besides, dragons are a rarity and Griffons are still quadrupedal. [6] Which is why the Everfree Forest, which maintains itself, is such a scary oddity. It’s wild magic!

[iswearonmarcuskane]

Don’t Forget Where You Belong

Title: Don’t Forget Where You Belong Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Marcus & Vera Kane Tag/Warnings: Canon compliant, Season 4, Post 4x05 Words: 1,626 Read on: AO3

Summary:  When you're lost, I'll find the way, I'll be your light. You'll never feel like you're alone. I'll make this feel like home.

It had been a while since Marcus had been here last.

Between trying to take down Pike, defeat ALIE, and recently trying to find a way to survive a second wave of radiation on its way, Marcus couldn’t stick to his regularly scheduled visits. The neglect was visible.

The Eden Tree had lost many leaves; bare branches stood out like a sore thumb. The branches were brittle, and the slightest touch broke them off. The bark of the trunk was peeling off.

He stood in front of the Eden Tree as he watched another leaf fall off, slowly landing on the Earth. He watched it as it laid there. A slight wind blew through and picked the leaf up and carried it off into the forest. He followed its path and kept staring at the area it last occupied before disappearing.

The similarity of their situation in relation with the Eden Tree gave Marcus chills. It made the reality of their situation settle deeper. He looked back to the Eden Tree and the images from last night flashed in his mind.

Fire. Everywhere.

The Ark in flames, the Ark collapsing. Their solution in flames, their solution collapsing.

The Eden Tree was dying, pieces of it slowly dying off. Time was running out, each solution they had come up with to battle Praimfaya with failed. The Eden Tree was slowly dying; Skaikru was running out of solutions.

“If only you could have seen Earth before this,” Marcus spoke softly. He was alone- just him and the Eden Tree. He knew, however, he truly wasn’t alone. “Before all the war, death, and radiation. If anyone deserved to see it, it was you.”

He crouched down in front of the Eden Tree, tracing a skimpy branch with few leaves still on it. His finger passed over a leaf and it immediately fall off and to the ground. He watched it for a while, before drawing his hand back. “You would’ve loved it,” he added. “It would’ve been everything you taught us about.”

A small, sad smile graced his face. He lowered himself to the ground as he sat down by the Eden Tree. He looked out into the forest, imagining Earth without the constant wars, the constant death, and the hourglass running out over their heads.

Instead, he thought about his mother, on Earth, and the happiness it would’ve brought her. She would be the first person to offer the idea of making gardens from the newly found plants in the forest. She would find the perfect place to plant the Eden Tree. She would be happy.

A sudden surge of pain that radiated up his forearm and through his fingers brought him back to reality- the reality of war, death, and an hourglass that was almost out of sand. It wasn’t the picture perfect image his mother had painted for him as a kid. It was the complete opposite.

“But look what exists here,” he said, his one hand massaging the area around his wrist. “There’s constant fighting which leads to bloodshed and death. Leaders, civilians, children…they’re all becoming victims of war, and at what cost? Soon enough there won’t be an Earth for any victor to claim.”

He massaged a bit further up his forearm, fingers slightly tingling. The little sparks of pain flash the images before his eyes again: flames spreading across the Ark, eliminating their only viable solution to survival. “Once the timer runs out, no one will get to see Earth for what it truly is: home.”

Marcus is answered with a strong gust of wind that ruffles his hair and jacket. He pulled the jacket tighter to himself, thinking maybe it’ll shield him away from the inevitable future. He looked down to his wrists, “Each solution we come up with, to preserve our home, it disappears.”

His voice sounds defeated and Marcus can’t find it in himself to fight against it. He doesn’t feel the hope, he doesn’t feel optimistic. He looks down to the Eden Tree and he can feel his mother lecturing him, just like when he was a child.

She would recite how even though the end seems bleak, that there is light in anything dark. You just have to search for it, and if you believe enough, you’ll find it. She then would give him a smile (oh, how he missed her smile) and tell him everything would be okay.

He needed that; he needed her.

He couldn’t find the light in the dark, and it scared him. He was their leader, their chancellor, and he was supposed to reassure his people that everything would be fine. He was supposed to reassure them they’d find another solution. He was supposed to reassure them that they would survive, just like how they always had.

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t, and he didn’t know what to do.

And that’s how he ended up here.

He felt like he did when he had to decide whether to or not to float Abby. He felt like he did when had to make the decision to float 300 innocent people for the Culling. He felt like he did when had decided to shock lash Abby. He was conflicted and he always came back to the same person to reflect on: Vera Kane.

“We’re out of solutions,” Marcus spoke to no one and someone at the same time, “the only one left is the nightblood solution. The results so far haven’t been promising.”

He looked at his wrists, one person flashing in his mind. Their survival now rested in her hands. He had faith in Abby, he knew she would come through. He was just having a hard time convincing himself it would work as every solution so far kept dying in front of him.

He didn’t want Abby to fail. He didn’t want her to feel the guilt he was feeling if it did fail. He wanted to protect her from that, so he wanted her to succeed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to believe it would work. “The odds are against us,” he told her. “Every solution so far has failed. It’s the like the Earth is telling us that this isn’t our home, that we don’t belong here.”

Marcus knew his mother would disagree with his words, even with all the events that have occurred. She would say it was Earth’s way of telling him that they needed to fight for their home. That if they really wanted to survive, they would find a way. There has to be another way.

He looked over to the Eden Tree then. He reached out once more, this time tracing the thinning trunk. When his finger reached the ground, a little sprout of green caught his attention. It wasn’t very big, something he wouldn’t have spotted before unless he was paying close enough attention.

It wasn’t higher than an inch out of the ground. It stood out now, green against the brown soil. It was a sapling.

He was fascinated by it. He ran his finger over it, watching as it didn’t crumble beneath the weight. It made him smile slightly.

His eyes went to the Eden Tree and back to the sapling. He saw the similarities between their situation and the two plants but this time he smiled.

The Eden Tree was dying and the sapling was just beginning to grow. The ark solution had dead and now the nightblood solution was in the works.

He watched the sapling again, thinking of how in just a short amount of time that Praimfaya would come rushing in. It seemed as if the sapling could care less, it was going to continue to grow- Praimfaya or not. It seemed as if it was giving Praimfaya the middle finger, telling it, “I don’t care if you can kill me, this my home. I belong here. I will fight for every last day I have here.”

It sparked something in Marcus. He saw a flash of light in the dark.

He looked back to the Eden Tree and he smiled, genuinely. Even though Vera wasn’t here, her influence never left.

The end may seem bleak, but there is a light in everything dark. Marcus can see it now.

The sapling represented the light in the dark. Even though Praimfaya was coming and more than likely going to kill it, that didn’t stop the sapling from growing. It was going to continue to grow until the end, it wasn’t going to stop just because the end seemed bleak.

The light may not be the solution to surviving Praimfaya, but it may be the fight they put forth into trying to survive. As long as they exhaust every solution possible and if in the end they don’t succeed, then they will die knowing they tried to their best to survive.

They can fight to belong here, they can fight for their home till the very end.

He touched one of the leaves on the Eden Tree and it stayed attached. His smile this time was bittersweet. His mother always kept him grounded. In the past, he had made some mistakes but she always stood by him, never abandoning him.

She hadn’t abandoned him then, and she wouldn’t now, even though she wasn’t here with him anymore. She was still guiding him, and he knew she always would.

He would keep fighting for his home; the home he knew his mother believed Earth was. He will believe in Abby and her capability to make the solution work. And if it doesn’t, he will keeping looking for the next solution.

In the end, Marcus will prove they belonged here. He will have fought for their home.

“Thank you, Mom.”

[imagine-yourself-away]

Sleepless Night

Fandom: MCU, Daredevil

Characters: Matt Murdock

Pairing: Reader X Matt Murdock

Notes/Warnings: I guess insomniacs can relate a little bit better to this? Established MattXReader

Word count: 1,193

Prompt: “It’s lonely in bed. Can you keep me company?” with Matt Murdock. Requested by anon.

With a frustrated groan, you punch your pillow. That does not really help. It does not even give you the anticipated satisfaction. This revelation only makes you groan again, even more frustrated, and you tightly shut your eyes. Only to open them again after not even three full seconds. You absolutely hate it when you cannot sleep. Nothing seems to help; not counting sheep, not a glass of warm milk, not just relaxing, not jasmine tea, nothing. Nothing at all. You peek at the face of your clock and groan loudly, rolling over onto your back. Half past four. At this rate, you are going to get no sleep at all tonight. You shuffle around in your bed again, until you are lying on the side with your face to the wall. With a resolute huff, trying to force yourself to breath in and out slower, you screw your eyes shut. You focus on your breathing, in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

In – a yawn – and out. Another yawn. As you control your breathing, you calm down and within maybe ten minutes you finally begin to drift off, as – crash. Something or someone makes a ruckus outside. Disbelievingly and cursing your bad luck, you curse as your eyes fly open all on their own accord at the noises. After a moment of considering whether to get out there and strangle whoever is prancing around without regard for other peoples’ need for sleep, you frown in surprise. Are those sounds coming from the roof?!

Hating yourself, the world and everyone in it, you throw back your blanket and sit up. You cannot sleep anyway, so you may as well check the source of the noises out. You slip into your shoes and open your nightstand’s drawer. Resolutely, you pick up your large and heavy flashlight. You may be overtired and grumpy from the lack of sleep, but you are still not suicidal enough to check the outside of your flat in Hell’s Kitchen at night without any kind of protection. And your flash is great protection, heavy enough to clobber someone over the head with it and bright enough to temporarily blind someone with it, too. Plus, the weight in your hand just gives you a feeling of reassurance.

You enter your living room and ponder whether to take the inside staircase inside or the fire exit stairs outside, as a loud thud makes you whirl around to face your window. A dark shadow, barely visible against the dimly lit street outside, swishes through the air and lands with a resounding clang on the metal staircase just outside your window. Your body seems unsure as of what your instinctive reaction should be, as it cannot properly decide between freezing on the spot and rushing towards your window. So it is you, in the end, who has to make the conscious decision. Ready to tell any burglar robbing you of your sleep where exactly to stuff their loot with a firm smack on the back of their head with your trusty flashlight, you stomp to your window, yanking it open.

The sight in front of you makes you suppress a groan. A man, costumed in a dark red bodysuit and wearing a mask sprouting two tiny devil’s horns, is clinging to the stairs’ rail, pulling himself up to find his footing. The Daredevil. Matt. Of course. Who else. As you open the window, his face turns up as if to look you straight in the eyes, and his lips, pressed together in a thin line from the bodily strain, twitch into a smile for a moment.

“Y/N,” he rasps as he heaves himself up to the stairs, “I thought I ended up somewhere around your place.”

“For heaven’s sake, Matt,” you groan and lean out of your window to pull him closer and get him inside, “Have you any idea how late it is?! Don’t you ever look at a clock?” You still for a moment as your own words sink in and continue hastily, cutting off any possible answer from him, “No, don’t answer that question. Just… get in and close the window behind you.” Making space for him to enter, you take a couple of steps away from the window, now switching on the light as you don’t really see yourself getting any sleep at all any time soon.

Swiftly, Matt climbs inside and turns around to do as you told him. After the window closes with a soft thud, the blind walks over to you with sure steps. It still amazes you every time how well he can work around his disability. He is taking off his mask and sprouts an apologetic smile. “Evening,” he greets you, his voice lowered.

“Oh, screw you,” you snap back but hug him anyway, leaving a peck on his cheek, a bit too miffed with him to give him a kiss on the mouth.

“Good morning, then?” he offers and chuckles as you hit him against the chest without much force.

“What are you even doing here?” you ask and hide your mouth behind your hand as you have to yawn widely. Matt shrugs, adapting a carefree attitude.

“Oh, you know…” he trails off and shrugs, “Serving justice, following suspects…losing their trail…climbing through windows.” He grins his boyish grin again, and it makes his face light up in the most beautiful way.

“I really don’t know how you keep doing that,” you lament, shaking your head, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep. What do you even own a bed for, if you don’t need it?”

“It’s not that I don’t need it,” Matt rebuts, “It’s just that my bed is not very interesting. No one else there, nothing happening…Of course somewhere else seems more interesting.”

“Wow,” you shake your head, “You make the wonderful act of sleeping suddenly sound terribly lonely.”

Matt scratches the back of his head, tousling his hair in the process, and scrunches up his nose. “I’m just trying to make up excuses for protecting Hell’s Kitchen. Since you asked.”

You snort in amusement. What a dork. But he’s your dork. “Well, I on the other hand greatly value my unexciting mattress and a good night’s sleep,” you announce and promptly have stifle another yawn.

The expression on Matt’s face shifts into a mix of slight guilt and embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he lowers his head, “I should have thought about that before I crashed down on your stairs. I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Oh, no,” you wave it off, “I was awake. Couldn’t sleep.” A question pops into your mind and you ask it before the courage leaves you. “Maybe…I dunno. It’s lonely in bed. Can you keep me company?”

Slowly at first, then speeding up, a bright smile lights up Matt’s face as he draws you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. You giggle against his mouth as his hand brushes over a sensitive area on your hips. “Then let’s see how good I can keep you company,” he murmurs and gives you another kiss before letting you lead him towards your bedroom.

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