#if you ever would like to be traumatized by birds please check that game out

[anaiswriterr]

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW. Todays chapter does include gore, death, killing, hunting, sickness, etc.

<masterlist>

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter five: the blood a trickster spills -

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You grab onto a tree branch, grunting as you pull yourself up. It has been an hour since you've been aimlessly walking through the enchanted forest, your feet already burn in exhaustion. You managed a to find a stream, the land was smooth - perfect for a fire in the morning but right now your main priority:

Is to somehow climb this tree without breaking a leg.

You grumble incoherent words to yourself, enraged by the stubborn bark your hand could not grasp. You opted for another tree branch, pulling yourself up to a reasonably thicker branch - which you deemed was thick enough to wait the night out. Though sleep was definitely out of the question for you, a fall from this height was enough to put you out of commission and paint you dead.

You wrap your arms carefully around the trees trunk taking deep breathes in attempt to sooth your beating heart, "don't look down.. don't look down." you chant, the words stitching together like a prayer. But your eyes glance down - for only one second. One second and suddenly your breath hitches and fear burrows into your stomach. One slip and it was over. Your hands grasp hard onto the trees bark, imprinting your hand with small indents of patterns.

Your eyes grow heavy with sleep, exhausted from climbing. You mentally curse yourself for not taking advantage of the time you had in the carriage ride.

From beneath you, bushes rustle and heavy footsteps emerge.

Yet, you don't dare look down to peep what roams the dark night; growling and far away howls creep up your skin as you shiver. You were in a long night - a cold grueling night.

***

You shiver against the bark, as rain pours down from above soaking your boots and clothing. The rain clouds cover up the moon - as if the night couldn't get worse - you feel small rain drops drizzle down from the skyline. Tapping your nose and cheeks, falling hard onto the ground after a few seconds. You roll your eyes in annoyance, tightening you grip against the tree bark as the rain soaks you from head to toe. In this case you were going to get sick if you didn't dry up soon - and sickness in the kingdom was a true tragedy. Your grip is slippery, chunks of bark peels off the tree and onto the ground below. Startling the animals that roamed below - one snarls as it's hit on the head with one piece. Tightening your legs and arms you realize if you fall now, in this darkness, at this moment..

You would never see another night again.

Determined to survive you travel even further up top into the tree line, it wasn't the smartest idea, staying put in the position you were in and waiting the rain out seemed like a logical solution.

But you needed to get to the tree line.

The sky could tell exactly what time it was, where the rain was coming from, and when it would end. It was better visually, other than waiting for you to fall.

But that also was a thought, what if your foot slipped when you were trying to get further on top, surely by that height you wouldn't have to worry about getting eaten alive by creatures of the night - you'd simply die just by hitting the ground. In all actuality, you didn't wanna think about it, but each time your damned eyes just peered down you saw death. This entire forest reeked and felt like death, or was it a curse, a game? A game to see which Queen can be the most traumatized?

If so, you were pretty sure by the end of this you'd have to see the royal therapist. If there even was one in this kingdom you served.

Grunting you pull yourself up, cheering yourself on internally. You're just nearly there, one more step and the sky line would be clear!

Rain droplets splatter your face, gliding across your cheeks and drenching your hair. Just a few more branches, a few more pulls. The dark clouds peer through leaves above, and you can already see the rain clouds gathered together. You sigh in relief, the rain would stop soon, you estimated the rain would most likely stop in approximately five minutes. And the moon would shine down again. the clouds were just passing by.

You breath in the fresh air, ignoring the pelting rain.

You just simply needed to breath, tears run down your face as you stare off into the Kingdoms silhouette - staring angrily at the sky refusing to place your fate in another persons hands. Clutching onto your dagger your carve into the tree branch.

"I will not accept the fate you place me under, you scoundrel pieces of shit!" You say quietly under your breath, a promise you will get to retell to your future children when the time came.

***

Birds chirp all around you, it's officially the first day.

The beating sun scorned your skin, but the cough in your throat is enough to pull your attention away from the scorching heat. You are developing a cold.

Your throat tickles and your nose feels stopped up, your hand shoots up to cover the suns beating  rays off your face. It was early, if you had to estimate most likely seven in the morning. The sun came down behind the kingdom at exactly seven thirty, (you made sure to observe), which only meant you had had twelve hours and thirty minutes to find food, make a fire, track down a goblin, and lastly if you were lucky enough to stumble upon safe herbs to create a tea that would soothe the pending cold.

If an infection didn't kill you, it'd be a cold that would have a final say, but the cold was the least of your worries.

You had a goblin to track down, and those tricksters could kill you faster than any fever.

You slowly move down the tree, checking your surrounds.

You found yourself a loose rabbit wandering off into its borough, noting your next meal for the day was only a few feet away. Your boots crunch onto the dried leaves and wet dirt, you search for dried logs that survived the rain fall, along with rocks that you could create a pit with. You set up directly in the sun in hopes to dry out a few damp logs. In the meantime you went to the rabbits borough - it had two entrances and from what you learned from Kirishima it would attempt to escape from the back. You stealthily placed a large heavy rock at the back entrance blocking its way.

Intricately you back away, you weren't so immune to dead animals. Your father went on annual hunting trips all the time, but, this would be the first time you are hunting out of survival.

The entirety of the "game" was survival.

You check up on your logs, noticing they are now dry from the suns heat. You grab your sticks rubbing your hands up and down to create a spark - fire blazes in front of you. Normally you'd say it was to hot to start a fire, but at night you rather face the cold than a grueling hungry Ogre. Of all things you had to deal with in life at this moment, a bitch ass Ogre was not one of the problems you had the proper strength and patience to deal with.

You grab an end of a stick, lighting the other half on fire. Waving it as a torch, your meal for the day would be served.

You rush over to the borough, lightly throwing the stick into the hole before closing it off with the boulder. Running over to the other end you hold your dagger.

You felt bad for the poor thing.

But a girls got to eat.

***

You have no idea where to start.

When one thinks of a goblin one would refer to the story books that claimed they lived under bridges - shunned away from society maybe even deep into forests. But those were simply just stories, if you had to think like a goblin you'd live far away from the kingdom in fear of being killed.

Nobody prepared you for the hunt, only survival.

You decide you should move, being stuck in the same place wouldn't get you very far. The herbs you were in search for in the meantime for your throat weren't found so you inevitability gave up on the luxury of a warm leaf of tea. You cough into your arm, sniffling your nose from running. The heat rose your temperature to the point you had to stop your travels to lie down, mentally cursing yourself for wasting time.

Heaving, you look up towards the sky, noticing the sun has moved positions. Only a few hours away of setting and you have yet found a single clue where you could find a goblin. You crouch down beside a creak, cupping your hands and drinking away the water from your palms. Splashing your face with it as well to cool the rising fever you felt approaching. You only had three days and if you were gonna make it back to start on time by the third day the heart must be in your possession. Your feet ache, and your calves muscles cramp. The lower part of your back is sore and the sun is burning the sides of your feet - you were in complete misery.

Black dots appear in your line of sight, you stumble onto your feet holding back the urge to vomit what little food you had left in your system.

Your hand quietly slaps over your mouth, clamping it shut.

"Well well well... what do we have here?"

Before you can even answer your sight goes dark, and you feel your head hit the ground. It falls silent.

***

Humming.

The sound of a cackling fire.

And the warm rich scent smell of hazelnut soup.

You slowly open your eyes, "What the-" your heart rate rises in fear, where were you? Who's here? Why are you here, how are you here? You search for the dagger but are left bewildered when the sharp blade is nowhere to be found. You shuffle backwards, your hands running over the wooden floorboards - splinters penetrate your skin. But you could careless, you remember passing out from the heat - or was it from a fever? You didn't know, footsteps approach you.

"Oh well it seems like you're awake!" A females voice cheers, you scan her body, taking in her frame. She was tall, and very beautiful, her striking long brown hair and dark green eyes, a dark red gown adorned her body. Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you bark at the woman, "Who are you-"

"Now, that isn't a way to speak to a woman who saved your life your Majesty."

"How do you know who I am-"

The woman chuckles, "Well I hear everything! The forest, it speaks to me. And not to mention the witches that live here love to gossip!" You stare at her, blinking your tired eyes. It still didn't make much sense, yes technically you ruled this land as well but it's so far away. You can feel your pounding headache even worsen, "So you're a witch?" You ask, pulling your feet in.

"Ha! You think I'm one of those people! How rude. See I'm just a modern lady sitting in a cottage, I don't suppose you would know that kind of lifestyle." The woman shrugs, sipping her cup of tea.

You nod, "I'm afraid.. I don't actually." All your life you were surrounded by jewels and gold's, fed the most expensive meats and the most tasty fruits. Living a fast paced life of "don't say that." "don't touch that." "sit like this." and "who told you to speak." Speaking to Mina about eventually running away from marriage, even planning to take her too.

"Well it seems to me you are part taking in those heinous games the Dragons throw women into. What a shame, you are beautiful too."

You arch a brow in curiosity at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean this isn't going to end well for you. I mean, look at you! You look like you couldn't hurt and fly, I wonder what King Bakugou must be up to? You wouldn't stand a chance against a goblin!" The woman laughs manically placing her cup of tea onto the table, she steps towards you. "I managed to survive one night alone-"

"Oh please, If I didn't take you in the wolves would've had a feast. You should be thanking me." You roll your eyes in annoyance, "Now dear," she grins, "you look parched. How about some tea."

Tea.

Your body is practically begging for a warm remedy to sooth your raw sore throat, oh.. you realized that you're actually growing sick. The headache on the sides of your temples is beating - pounding against your brain. Your vision is cloudy. How could you not of realized. You were so distracted by where you were you barley remember you couldn't find the herbs you searched for.

The lady wags an empty cup in your face.

"Come on. Your cheeks are burning red, and whether that's just a sun burn or fever I'm sure you need a sip. You're burning up a storm."

A part of you wonders her name, but was it truly important? Could she possibly show you were you could find a goblin? You look over your shoulder out of the window realizing the sun was just barley going down.

"H-How long was I out?" You shakily ask, pulling your hands into your chest.

The woman arches a brow, "You know for a Queen you surely do stutter a lot. You've been out since noon."

Lord if you didn't have strength to be patient you probably would've thrown a wooden slab at her by now, you breath in heavily through your stopped up nose; coughing in despair. Blowing out a few pieces of hair from your face. "Well, then do you want the tea or no - your royal highness?" She asks in a taunting matter.

"No. I'm fine." You huff.

"More for me then-"

"What's your name?" You interrupt, "Id love to know the name of the woman who saved me after all." You grin tilting your head to the side. The lady clears her throat, "Marigold. My name is Marigold." You nod, finally knowing her name. "Well Marigold, do you know where I can find a goblin?"

The word seems to stop Marigold in her tracks. Her face grows pale for a second before returning back to her natural nonchalant expression. Blowing a raspberry she proceeds to laugh, "Well honey, that's a days trip. They live deep into the forest. You wouldn't make it there in time."

Hmm, you nod suspiciously. Recalling the last conversation you had with Kirishima.

"What do goblins look like? I've only ever read about them." You asked, moving beside him following him into the horse stall. He combs out the mane of his horse, "Well that's a tricky question my Queen. They are real tricky and can spew lies just to get you where they want... they promise you things. You have to be real smart to not fall for it - I've encountered one in my youth. It didn't look anything like those storybooks."

Your eyes wander her body; she looked normal. But to trust her would be a stretch, one that could kill you. Her voice sound normal. You watch her closely, "Where's my stuff?" You ask. Marigold arches a brow and shrugs her shoulders; "What stuff?"

You bark, "My dagger! My holster for it! Where is it?"

"Oh those things.. why do you need them?"

"I need to leave-"

"It's dark out, you wouldn't want yourself to increase your fever now would you. I promise this tea will sooth all your pains away. Even the ones deep in your heart."

You arch a brow, narrowing your gaze. Even the ones deep in your heart. Your brush her off as a bluff, "You don't know what you're talking about." You push yourself up from the floor, stumbling from the sudden wave of nausea. Sweat beats run down your forehead as you attempt to stand up straight. Marigold clicks her tongue, her long fingers run through her long brown locks. "No. No. It seems that... I do know what I'm talking about. A Queen who's too good for her new kingdom, thrown, stuck and forced into a loveless marriage; suddenly thrown into the enchanted forest to find a heart that she will be forced to eat? Poor unfortunate girl, you were better off dead."

Her words cut deeply, anyone could figure that out though. She didn't know you, how could she possibly think she had your life figured out. You were a Princess made into a Queen; it wasn't that hard to understand. To create peace between your kingdoms you had to marry Bakugou.

"Darling... you are unhappy." She takes small sips of her tea, "I can help you escape.. you don't love him you don't even know him. Come with me, and I can help nourish you back to health. You won't even have to return, I'm quite lonely myself. Now, have some tea. Your cheeks are practically scarlet." Marigolds grin is sinister, she taps her nails slowly against the table; that's when you realize:

Her fingers and nails are sharp, green, and coated with old blood.

Her green eye sharpen with each passing second - her pupils are almost snake like. You gulp down the fear that rose in you, ignoring the raging pound against your chest. What do you do? You can tell she's growing impatient, if you run out now with no weapon you could kiss your life away. If you stayed... no. You needed a knife, your dagger, anything even a wooden stake would do fine. "I don't bite, sit down." Marigold says menacingly, your feet  scuff the floor as you make your way to her. This is the time where you're supposed be strong, you guess.

Marigold lifts up her tea kettle, you notice her teeth for the first time.. how sharp they were.. separated and long.. how could she disguise herself as someone so beautiful?

"Remember.. they are tricksters. They are going to tell you things you wanna hear, they can be anyone and anything." Kirishima's words rang through your head, "Well wouldn't that make them a shape shifter? I've heard those are a thing too, how can I be certain?" You pout, how would you know. The creatures of the Enchanted Forest were so complex. He crosses his arm, "You'll know when they begin to turn.. back into the creature they were originally. Don't catch yourself entertaining, they'll slice your throat in a second."

Your breathing grows heavy, she's a goblin. She's what you've been looking for, her name wasn't Marigold - Marigold was a the woman who the face, the body belonged too. This thing... is morphing. You choose your words carefully, slowly reaching out for an empty tea cup and quietly asking her to fill it. If you could just lead her into the kitchen somehow you could possibly get a knife, "Well now that's the spirit my Queen. I promise this tea with sooth everything away, melting all the overwhelming emotions you may be feeling." The woman mutters before pulling back a hot tea kettle.

Hot.

Tea.

Kettle.

Boiling water is in there. Your heart prancing in joy, you have a chance. You had an opening, quickly, you stop her with your hand. "Actually, may I poor it? I-I sometimes like mines a little more full than usual." You smile nervously, "Oh why of course, here. Have as much as you'd like - it came right off the cauldron."

You nod, taking the handle away from her and carefully pouring the boiling tea into your cup. You make note of her wandering eyes, you've got to make this quick. You finish pouring, opening the kettle lid you ask aloud, "What kind of tea is this? It smells wonderful." You needed a distraction, a reason to open the lid.

"Lavender green tea with a speck of rose water-"

Your throw the boiling water over her head, her screams erupt in the as dining room; as her skin bubbles up. You throw the kettle at her head and knock back your chair, running towards the kitchen. "You wretched! Horrid- I'll slice your throat!" The Goblin screeches, you search the drawers and cabinets for something, anything! But to no avail you didn't find a single thing. Now you were completely done for.

Heavy footsteps and angered huffs make their way towards the kitchen - it's now or never. Throwing pots and pans you make sure to strike the goblin in the face, "After I saved your life! This is the thanks I get?" You hear, bending down to hide underneath the counter your eyes lock with a shining blade.

Your dagger!

Hidden behind the cauldron, you just needed a way to get back there. You needed a way to grab it, the goblins footsteps grow heavy. You silence your breathing with your palms, "I could've helped you, I could've been your escape. You greedy rat!" You hear tables being flipped over, cabinets being thrown open violently, "Wait till I get my hands on you.. I'll cut you open and gut you like a fish."

You attempt to keep calm, either way you were a goner if you hadn't left in that moment. When you hear the goblins footsteps move away in distance you shuffle onto your feet and zoom towards the cauldron. The crackling fire and boil contents bring you an idea. You hurry for the dagger, flipping it between your hands.

"There you are.." you hear a snarl from across the room, readying your blade to attack, you throw your hands up, "Thank you for the hospitality, but it looks like you have something I need." You point towards the goblins chest, the heart. A viable beating heart, only feet away. In mere seconds the goblin launches at you, reaching out to tackle you. You swiftly move out of the way throwing yourself to the ground, your palms throb in pain from the splinters lodged deep into your flesh - but that's the least of your worries. You scurry to your feet and push over the boiling cauldron over the goblin and stab your dagger deep into its head. Blood splatters your face in small droplets, staining your face and clothes.

You've never killed a "person" before.

Never did you think you could actually do it, but the small sigh of relief escaping your throat tells you that you are finally safe.

You proved what you had to prove. And for the night you had sanctuary.

Your mind races in adrenaline, you're alive.

Yet you had to kill in the process, does that make you one of them? No, you did what you had to do. It was a matter of kill or be killed. You pull your dagger away, out of its head, you didn't kill an innocent women. You killed a beast. Small gurgles and a moan fall from its mouth, the sound of death. You wipe away the blood on your forehead with your forearm and roll the dead corpse to the side.

The heart...

A token for the kingdom.

***

Blood stains your chest; dried up to the color brown as you stumble through the forest. Your eye lids feel heavy with every step you take yet you fight off the urge to fall to your knees and succumb to the dark black dots in your vision. It's tempting, yet you are so close to the finish.. you walked the full second day. With no breaks and no source of water on the way, your fever had returned full force as the sun blazed down your body.

You cough into your arm as your second hand clutches onto the heart you were meant to return. Fresh blood coats your hands from the animals you had to fight off for the heart, the trip back was just as worse, your eye lids flutter, opening and closing with each step you nearly fall to the floor.

You look like a dead girl walking.

Your feet shuffle and kick at the ground below.

Your back is sore and your throat feels dry from the cold of the night - the forest was ruthless. You can hear the tribal drums from afar, the sound edging closer and closer, increasing its volume with each step. You stumble to the ground, exhausted, thirsty, and sick. You consider staying down, to tired to even pull yourself up. You hear voices, they sound so close.

"I told you already, she'll be here."

Bakugou?

The king, your husband.

"Give her some more time."

It must be near afternoon then, you push yourself up when you heard Kirishima's voice agree with your husband. Providing you some more time to make it to the finish line - you assume the politicians want to speed up the process. You swore they must have something against you.

Your body feels sticky from the old, dried blood on your chest. Fingers still freshly coated in blood and dirt you push yourself off from a nearby tree - edging closer to the entrance of the Enchanted Forest. The setting suns sunlight peers through the small branches and leaves of the trees above, kissing your exposed shoulders, reddened from the sunburns that littered your skin. You wipe the sweat off your forehead; smearing a combination of dried and fresh blood all over your face. But you don't care, you just had a few more step till sanctuary.

The entrance is clear, open to the trail you followed.

You can see Kirishima from a distance, his rough shoulders tense in worry. Beside him, Bakugou stands with his arms crossed over his shoulders. An expression you couldn't make out contours his face.

You know you've finally made it out when a wave of heat smacks your face even harder - the setting sun beating on your body you stumble over to the King.

A smirk on your face as you hold up the heart, his eyes widen in surprise, taken aback you watch his lips move. But no sound comes out, it's all muffled around you. Black spots collect in your vision, "I-I did it.." you mumble, falling into his chest his hand reaches out to touch your forehead.

You lie passed out in his arms as he calls out to his guards, Kirishima collects the heart from your hand just before it could fall. "What do we do?" The dragon frantically says, Bakugou looks out for the Counsel men, his eyes fall onto the President. Glaring he announces, "We're taking her back to the Palace now!"

"You will do no such thing, your Majesty! She will be brought to the plaza hall, your people are waiting! Handmaidens, guards, take Queen Y/N, preserve the heart and bathe it in pigs blood. We are continuing the ceremony."

Your fever rose with each passing minute, and the exhaustion you'd expedited already was enough to kill. Bakugou breathes in heavily knowing he had no say in the ceremony. There was no way he could just simply override the parliament. Arms wrap around your body as the guards and handmaidens assist in take you.

They rip you away from Bakugou's arms.

"We'll take care of her after the ceremony-"

Kirishima interrupts the Counsel man, bearing his sharp teeth he growls, "I believe you will. I don't necessarily like the taste of humans." He threatens as they user you off. Bakugou stares in annoyance at the carriage that rushed you off to the plaza. Nightfall was close, and he could already feel the rumbling of ceremonial drums beneath his feet. A hand comes to pat his shoulder, the Counsels president, Hagoku Tekona, smiles. "You should probably head back to the plaza.. she might wanna see you as soon as we wake her up."

"You're just gonna wake her up?"

"We'll just drench her in pigs blood to wake her, she'll anyways have to. The tradition calls for the Queen to bathe in pigs blood as she intakes the heart to be fully part of the dragon clan-"

Bakugou, walks away, reaching out for Kirishima he taps his back.

"Make sure... they don't throw her around too much."

Nodding in agreement Kirishima fetches their horses, "I'll take care of her. Make sure she's conscious." The two jump onto their horses settling into the saddle, Bakugou mutters to himself, incoherent words bungled all in one sentence, he pulls back on his horse. Kirishima arches a brow in worry, eyeing his friend he doesn't know what to say neither what to do, the dragon mutters, "You seem surprised. Did you think she wasn't going to make it?"

Nodding Bakugou turns to face Kirishima, with notable surprise written on his face. "I thought I was going to have to find another wife..."

Chuckling Kirishima shakes his head before taking off with his horse, "Depending on how well tonight's ceremony goes.. it appears Bakugou that you have a wife beside your side."

"It appears.. so."

AUTHORS NOTES: Yooooooo! How are you guys, sorry for taking to long. This chapter was longer than the others so I’m happy with where this is going. I have been going through a few things, remember guys I’m just a teenager so it can be hard to fit things in on time. I just got a job, just waiting for the orientation, I have school work and I’m glad I have all A’s! Anyways I hope you liked it!!

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[sophi-s]

Cost of Kindness

Chapter IV: Complications

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,656

Characters: Raphael, Original Female Character (OC), Fury

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Swearing (a lot of it XD)

Summary:

After far too many close calls and an adventure that will last her a lifetime, Nicola and Raphael finally make their way towards Haven. Unfortunately, not everything goes as smoothly as it could.

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Many, many centuries ago taking off to the grand skies has become one of humanity's greatest dreams. They always wished to be able to fly, envying birds their wings and wishing to join them in their aerial conquest. It took many more ages to even try to think of it seriously and even longer for the humans to create the first working airplane and fulfill their dreams as the gravity kept thwarting all their plans. But once this seemingly impossible goal was accomplished, this event has been recorded on the pages of history as one of the most remarkable inventions of the human race.

When she was little, Nicola dreamed of flying on her own as well. She loved watching birds, tracking the planes soaring through the sky, so far away they looked like ants, and thinking about how it would be to have her own wings. Her dreams eventually were abandoned as she grew older, more serious and more reasonable. But honestly, if a week ago someone asked her if she would choose to have wings if she could, Nicola without hesitation would reply "a huge YES". Now however, she realised something she didn't really take into consideration before. While humans wished to rule the skies, they absolutely were not created for this. They have been made flightless, earth-ridden creatures and for a good reason. Her very apparent fear of heights made it awfully clear to her.

These thoughts were all Nicola could hear aside from the rustling of feathers on the wind as she desperately held onto her angel friend, her heart hammering in her chest, eyes wide and stomach making somersaults while everything was spinning around like a carousel. At a certain height the human body just starts to give up and refuse cooperation. For those who are afraid of heights the gap is even smaller and the symptoms more severe. All that was keeping her from fainting or throwing up there and then was the fact that she refused to look down to see how high they actually were but imagining the small buildings below her wasn't making it much better. If she survives this, she will never ask any angel for a fly again and - if it will ever be possible after the apocalypse - stay the heck away from any sort of working plane. Ground was where she belonged. Flying was not her cup of tea and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Raphael seemed oblivious to the silent prayers spilling past her lips and just kept flying, fully focused on his destination, as she was absolutely certain she's going to die. Her muscles were completely stiff, as though she looked Medusa in the eye. She couldn't even see anything with how her face was buried in the rumpled fabric of Raphael's clothes but she assumed they were getting closer and closer. Focus on anything else than the height. Anything! She kept telling herself when her jaw started to hurt from how she was clenching her teeth. Easier said than done. Nicola knew that Raphael wasn't going to drop her. He promised her and lately she learned to trust him but the pull of gravity beckoning her down into the abyss and to a long plummet ending in a painful impact and certain death… The last time she was this panicked was when the Fallen jumped her out of nowhere. Speaking of which… God, please, let this be a smooth flight. No demons, I'm begging you..

Encounter with stray demons was the last thing they needed now. She didn't doubt Raphael's ability to defend both her and himself but if a flying demon was to attack them from surprise… Not a single part of her already malfunctioning brain could produce a scenario that wouldn't end in either of them dying or at least suffering grave injuries. In short words, any sort of aerial confrontation would mean serious trouble. And trouble wasn't something Nicola missed. Especially after the last night..

Seems like her prayers have been answered. So far nothing noticed an angel and a human passing overhead. And those demons which did apparently decided not to bother them since it didn't seem worth it or had no way of giving them trouble from where they were standing. Nicola stopped counting seconds of their journey long ago and the only indication of the passing time was the wind rushing through her hair slowing down as Raphael started to try and spare as much energy as he could, gliding whenever possible on his wings simply stretched out on both sides and flapping them only to keep the right height, out of range of any demons that could be sulking below when he began to grow weary. His stamina wasn't probably in the best condition after the time he spent in hiding and most likely not moving much.

When she gets back to Haven, Nicola is going to first, eat a solid lunch since her stomach was displeased again - though now she couldn't really feel it twisted in panic like that - second, go the fuck to sleep for the rest of the day. Even though she spent the last night sleeping like a dead woman, she didn't feel that well rested. The amount of stress she had to endure exhausted her and a few hours of rest weren't enough to regenerate her full strength. High on her bucket list was also taking care of Raphael, to at least make him look decent and dress any wounds he carried. Elanya could do that too but Nicola couldn't imagine that Raphael would let a maker he doesn't know do anything to him. She remembered how distrustful he was in the beginning. And after she gets back, no more escapades if not necessary. At least two weeks long break. Ulthane is going to make sure she stays there anyway so she might as well spend her time on sleeping and some light activities. 

Speaking of Ulthane… Nicola wasn't actually sure what she'd say to him once she suddenly showed up in Haven after all that time with a traumatized, crazy angel at her side. To say it will be awkward as heck, would be a severe understatement. It's not even about Raphael. How is she going to explain herself to the overbearing maker who is standing on his head to save the last survivors of her kind while, by nearly killing herself three times already, she acted nothing if not ungrateful? And honestly, she wasn't in shape to wonder about it now because her mind refused to focus on anything else than this one thought of the lethal distance between her and the ground. Damn it all.. Why does she have to be afraid of heights and find out this very unpleasant way? Really, if someone tried to take her from Raphael before he landed or too short time after, they'd probably need a crowbar to pry her off him.

While Nicola thought that the flight itself was awful, the moment her stomach seemed to move up into her gullet as Raphael dipped towards the ground she unwittingly shrilly cried out in fear. And that was a mistake. The angel, startled by the quiet human he'd been holding this entire time suddenly screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason, tried to halt his descent to figure out what's wrong but it was already too late for that. As a result the landing was rather rough. Nicola closed her eyes and so she didn't see how Raphael clumsily hit the ground and barely kept himself propped up not to land on top of her as she slipped out of his grasp and lost her grip on his robes. The expectations of a long fall made her throat tighten and trap her voice inside. All the bigger relief once after barely an inch or two, her back connected with the surface, drawing a soft and strained "oof" from her.

Still scared, disoriented and confused, Nicola opened her eyes to see wide-eyed Raphael hunched over her, hands on either side of her head - with the staff to her left - and gawking at  her with a slight panic on his face. Goodness, he was way too close. Pulling her arms close to her body in a helpless attempt to regain her personal space, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-hi there!"

The moment he saw that nothing was wrong and her face regained some of its color, Raphael breathed with relief and got off her, once again offering his hand to help her up. Once back on her feet, Nicola nearly cried out when she felt the solid ground under the soles of her boots. Blessed earth, she could literally kiss it right now. But the fact that they were not in Haven yet disconcerted her a little. Looking around, she noticed they're in an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Casting a questioning glance at Raphael she didn't even need to ask. The way his wings were slumped against his back, his breath heavier than before said it all. Plain and simple, Raphael was tired. Too tired to keep going. Still, he was eyeing her cautiously.

"Why… why were you screaming?"

Still feeling the nausea and the shaking of her knees, Nicola scratched the back of her neck and turned her eyes away ashamed.

"Ahuh… I'm not-... I'm not used to flying, that dip scared me a little. Sorry about this.."

Raphael said nothing to this, simply nodded, and lowered himself to the dusted road to have a seat by one of the decrepit stores. Nicola decided to let him have his five minutes to rest before going any further. Store. She suddenly realised. And not just any. A grocery store. At the mere thought her stomach rumbled. Not only could she have something for herself but also gather some stuff for others! If anything there is still edible that is. It wouldn't hurt to check. Every bit of food is precious.

"Raphael, can you wait here for a bit? I'll be back in a jiffy."

Out of the corner of her eye she already saw him shift in apprehension and almost begin to stand up. Probably because she ran once already and in his mind could do it again. She proceeded to calm him down immediately by pointing at the building she intended to search.

"I'll just go in there to look for stuff, don't worry. I will come back."

Staring at her for a couple of intense seconds, Raphael eyed her from head to toe twice before his concerned gaze softened a bit.

"Promise me…?"

Nicola smiled reassuringly and nodded. There weren't many options for her if she did want to run off. Besides, she wasn't quite sure where she was just yet. Her orientation in terrain was… less than decent as of late.

"I promise."

She offered and once Raphael sat somewhat comfortably back down, she took her backpack and shotgun - just in case - and stepped in through a broken window. The inside of the store was in utter disarray and even that was putting it lightly. Most of the shelves were toppled over, some even in pieces. Glinting shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under Nicola's feet every time she made a step. Unsurprisingly, nothing was working. No lights, no freezers, no ventilation. No time to waste. Nicola began her search immediately.

Approaching the fruit stand greeted her with bitter disappointment. Apples, oranges, pears and many other fruits were already rotten and sometimes even coated in white specks of mould. Definitely not good. With vegetables it was exactly the same. The only carrot that looked acceptable at first, turned out to have been completely wilted. Tossing it aside, Nicola moved on. She didn't even bother looking for meat. The stench hit her the moment she came inside and were it not for the smell of decomposing corpses that drifted around the sewers when she was there, she probably would've thrown up where she stood. Instead, she just covered her mouth and nose with her bandana.

Any dairy products were off the table too. Without working freezers every single one of them has surely gone sour by now. A diarrhea was not something she wanted to have in Haven and most likely neither did the makers. Nicola didn't dare to so much as touch any eggs that still were somehow intact. Bad idea. A smelly one as well. There's no way some of them haven't gone bad yet. The risk wasn’t worth it. Passing by one of the mostly whole shelves, she absent mindedly grabbed a bag of dry cat food and stuffed it into her backpack. It was highly probable that most of the survivors would be feeding the kitten with any leftovers but.. just to make sure the poor thing doesn't starve to death.

Most of the jars have broken during initial earthquakes but two small jars of pickles seemed to be mostly alright. Without giving it much thought, she placed them in her backpack. Four bags of freeze-dried fruits quickly found their way into her pockets once she got a hold of them. Under a broken shelf, Nicola spotted an edge of some packet. Assuming it was just crackers or something, she reached into the rubble for it but once she pulled it out… she immediately regretted her decision. It was, in fact, not a bag of crackers. It was a whole, torn bag of soured cabbage coated in some strange growth - probably mould - she didn't get a chance to really look at because her attention was caught by something inside the bag. Probably squeezed in through the tear and got stuck, a small, bloated body of a gigantic, hellish critter. Instinctively, Nicola yelped quietly and without giving it much thought she lobbed the thing across the whole store before wiping her hand on the nearest piece of rag that wasn't her clothes. She didn't even get any of the spilling juices on her but… gross. Just gross. Ew ew ew! Ignoring the wet splat the bag made when it hit the floor wasn't an easy task. Still shaking off the disgust, she continued her search, noting to herself never to touch something she isn't sure what it is.

From there it thankfully was starting to go much smoother. Two packets of crispbread, some dark chocolate and a box of tea were found and collected. Nicola nearly cheered out loud when she spotted a few Snickers on a shelf. One she immediately opened and eagerly ate while the rest landed safely in her backpack. It might be mostly sugar with a bit of peanuts but it was a good snack that could deceive the brain for quite some time. To be frank, Nicola lived half of the high school on those whenever her lessons lasted too long for her breakfast to keep her sated. Besides, she couldn't imagine others would mind her bringing a bunch. Especially Marie. Jacob will most likely strangle Nicola if his daughter eats too much sweets but in the end it'll be worth it. Anything would be worth putting a smile on that sad little face.

Somewhere on the floor, Nicola even found a box of vitamins which luckily was not out of date yet. With a deficit of fruits and vegetables, those could be lifesavers. Especially for Leslie. She needs the most of it. Unfortunately, the space in her backpack was very much limited and soon she couldn't put anything more in there. Rearranging the contents of it, she put in one bottle of water, careful not to crush the crispbread and chocolate. At least she found something. Her escapade wasn't all for nothing when it comes to supplies. But even without those, she wouldn't say she regrets it. Against all the odds, she lived. And most importantly, she gained an otherworldly friend. And in times like these, a friend is something to be treasured.

Slinging her now much heavier backpack on her shoulders, she picked up her gun and headed towards the broken window she used as an entrance before. Peeking out from the store, she saw Raphael where she'd left him and a very much awake cat playfully attacking the longest quill of his left wing. His head perked up when she dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the window and she could've sworn she'd seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a second there. Smiling, she unfolded her hands and shrugged.

"See? I keep my promises."

The angel hummed quietly before leaning his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. Nicola was about to ask if he's good to go but let the thought perish when she noticed his eyebrows furrow and his chapped lips twist into a slight grimace. Soon after, his right hand wandered up to his chest as he took a couple of quick and shallow breaths through his clenched teeth. If Nicola didn't know any better, she'd have said Raphael was having a heart attack. Can an angel even have an infarct? She honestly had no idea. In fact, she didn't even know how old he is. She couldn't tell. All the angels she'd met so far had white hair so that's not a hint to go by and his face didn't necessarily look old or young. He seemed as ageless as the time itself. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Raphael? What's wrong?!"

She asked as she crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him if needed. Raphael simply slowly shook his head and turned to look at her tiredly. And in his blank eyes she saw the already familiar pain and a spark of a silent plea.

"Just a little longer.. Let me rest a while…"

It took everything Nicola had in her to stop the sigh of relief. It didn't sit right with her that Raphael was still suffering and she could do absolutely nothing about it but hearing he's mostly fine, with only the usual ailing him, made her feel a tad easier. When his breathing grew slower and calmer, she even let herself slip down to the floor beside him.

"Sure. We have time, I guess.."

It was still relatively early, barely an hour or two after noon and Nicola wasn't that eager to return into the sky so soon. Only thinking about it made her feel a little sick. Hopefully, it wasn't too far to Haven from here. Even though Nicola really wanted to finally get home, she decided to be patient with her companion. He was wounded and most likely ill but he still tried his best to help her, even though he hadn't known her that long. He deserves a moment. Nicola too needed to sit down for a second as her thigh was still a bloody nuisance. Just a few more minutes. It wouldn't do harm to have a little break now, would it?

Yes. Yes it would. Nicola suddenly realised when she saw the kitten arc its back and puff its tail out. It hisses loudly before scurrying away into the store she just left and soon enough Nicola realised why once she looked into an alley ahead of her. The sight of a massive, winged shape made it painfully obvious. Her heart nearly ceased and Raphael beside her tensed at the sight of an enormous demon with curved horns and teeth, each the size of her palm, resembling a set of barbed knives made specifically to cut meat. The edges of long healed wounds that left behind terrible scars on her abdomen began to itch as she gawked at the familiar monster that nearly took her life. Flapping of gigantic wings that covered the sky with its expanse… Razor sharp claws curling around her body… the same talons tearing into her flesh as Ulthane attempted to free her from its grasp. And this shriek… oh God, this shriek…

Despite the apparent pain and exhaustion, Raphael slowly - not to agitate the demon - got up to his feet and raised his wings threateningly as he stepped in front of aghast Nicola. The fact that due to its bulkiness this thing seems almost twice as large as he is doesn't make an impression on him. Or maybe it does but he doesn't show it. The Fallen stared at Raphael with its small red eyes as a pair of Phantom Guards rounded a corner and joined the beast. Each carried a jagged blade that could easily tear through angelic armor. Nicola had seen it happen. Following them was another bloody Goreclaw. But these three she barely even noticed. Her wide eyes were focused on the larger demon. She felt her muscles refuse cooperation and seize. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind repeatedly screamed No nono no NO! Not like this!!

With excited roars, the lesser demons charged towards the angel standing between them and the weak, pathetic and helpless human as the Fallen spread its wings and took off into the air. Even as Nicola kept stone still, Raphael remained sharp and ready to act as always. One spell spilled past his lips and the flying demon instantly went rigid before plummeting back onto the ground and crashing into a broken car, setting its annoying alarm off. It didn't discourage the other three but it let Nicola find will to move and clutch her gun tighter. Ever since she'd met Raphael, he'd been doing nothing but getting her arse out of trouble. Taking a shaky breath she decided to start repaying favors.

Though, once again she didn't really have a chance to do anything as she was dumbstruck by the following scene playing out before her. As the hellish monsters charged, Raphael took his staff in both hands and held it before himself, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation in his melodious language. The moment the first demon stepped a tad too close, Raphael's eyes snapped open, burning like two white suns and a sleek ethereal blade materialized from the tip of what Nicola previously thought just an ornament or a walking cane. It glowed like the purest light ever to exist. Another assumption Nicola made about Raphael turned out to have been false. The last thing she can say about him is unarmed. He carried no blade, no gun or anything but who needs a weapon as lame as those when in addition to powerful sorcery you have a freaking lightsaber?

Everything lasted less than a second as the angel led a wide, sweeping slash of his spectral sword… spear thing… and promptly relieved the Phantom Guard of its horned head, before stopping the pouncing Goreclaw with a flick of his free hand, suspending it in the air growling and hissing. The other Phantom Guard had no chance to either attack the vulnerable angel or retreat, when Raphael was busy cutting down the quadrupedal demon, as Nicola came back to her senses and, instead of running like she always has, jumped forward and fired her shotgun. The resounding bang travelled through the entire city, bouncing off the walls and drifting far into the desolate town but it had the effect Nicola counted on.

The Phantom Guard staggered backwards with a chest full of buckshot, wheezed a couple times and tripped over onto its back never to get up again. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Nicola stared at the either dead or dying demon in wonderment, her brain trying to process what just happened, before releasing a breathless laugh of triumph. She killed one. She actually killed one! Raphael too seemed rather surprised but not unpleasantly so as he let the blade fade away.

"I got it! Did you see that?!"

"That indeed, I have.."

He said as he eyed her carefully, probably just to check if she's fine. Aside from a little fresh blood on his boots and hands, Raphael didn't seem to have gotten hurt in any way. Well… more than he'd already been at least. Nicola beamed up at him nearly bursting with pride at her actual first kill on a demon larger than her shin. And he seemed happy for her, if the soft smile he regarded her with could be an indication. But this victory didn't last long. Her own smile faded when she saw the Fallen stiffly getting up from where it slammed onto the ground, pure rage on its monstrous face. Her pulse began to race again but this time she refused to let the panic get a hold of her just yet.

"Watch out!!"

She cried too late, just a sliver of a second too late. Raphael whipped around to face the attacker and all he managed to do was raise his hand before the charging demon swung its head to the left. And with the force of a truck driving at the speed of fifty miles per hour, slammed it into the angel, making a formula of a spell die on his lips as he was sent flying through the air and crashing against a nearby building. The force of the impact caved in the wall and the kind, mad angel disappeared in a cloud of dust. All that was left were a couple of white feathers slowly falling to the ground.

"NO!"

Nicola didn't pay any mind to how her voice broke and squeaked pitifully when her heart leaped up into her throat. She could only stare at the place where Raphael vanished with a rumbling crash as the enraged demon growled in the same direction. Not a single part of her being agreed with what she'd just witnessed. A second before he was standing right there, like nothing was about to happen, distracted by her gushing over her first serious kill. Nothing should have happened, why did the demon unravel Raphael's magic just like that? Even a Shadowcaster didn't manage to do that! Why would this one? And why… Tears welled up in her eyes as her lower lip trembled… why did it have to… end the way it did…?

To make matters worse, the Fallen was still before her, still furious and thirsting for blood. Not wasting more time, Nicola pulled out a handful of new bullets and tried to reload her weapon but it proved almost impossible with how much her hands were shaking. Thank Christ, the demon was taking its sweet time as it faced her and began to lumber towards her on all fours, huffing out breaths stinking of rotting meat. Faster, faster, damn it! Nicola cursed inwardly when she dropped a couple of shells before she finally managed to place the ammunition where it should be. But when she looked up, the Fallen was on top of her already. Parting its jaws wide, ready to swallow her whole.

The scream of anguish that felt so tempting in the back of her throat never came to be. In a second, Nicola thought about all the horrors she'd lived through. All demons she'd met, all shambling corpses of former humans brought back by vile sorcery. All friends she'd made and lost.. Raphael, do just one thing for me. She gritted her teeth as her knuckles turned white from how she was gripping her weapon. Despair started to turn into rage. Burning bright and white hot inside of her, the flame Raphael had helped her see. Please, be alive when I come for you… The demon lunged forward to sever the string of her measly life by biting her in half. But Nicola wasn't going to let it get her so easily. Her fear was forgotten as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun into the monster's opened maw. She didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. For once she wanted to have a say over her own fate. Over the date of her demise. She is still young, she had a whole life ahead of her. And all those demonic dickheads with the Destroyer leading the charge decided to ruin everything and not only for her, but for every human who lives still and who has perished. And those who are yet to be born. She refused. She will not die. Not here. Not killed by that thing.

"FUCKOFF!!!"

And she fired. Partially, the sound was muffled by the demon's mouth snapping shut just barely missing Nicola's arms as she let go of her gun. The Fallen recoiled and began to shriek in pain, spitting out its own blood onto the concrete at its feet. Nicola didn't have delusions she could kill it but it gave her the precious seconds she needed. She ran for the closest hiding place available, which was the store she just left. Nicola leaped in through the broken window and quickly made it to the opposite wall to put as much distance between herself and the writhing monstrosity as possible. And it was a good choice.  A loud roar from the street made her heart fall into her heels as the injured demon finally gathered its bearings.

Nicola looked at the Fallen that was coming her way with murder in its eyes. The unexpected bout of courage has long faded and the petrifying fear once again had Nicola in its chilling grasp. Even with the mouthful of bullets, the Fallen did not intend to give up on its prey. And here she hoped it would piss off if she fed it with lead… Snarling and panting, the demon approached the broken window with its own blood pouring from between its sharp fangs. It only added to the menacing image of the beast that had Nicola trembling and frozen.

Think, Nicola, THINK! What can she do against an opponent far bigger, stronger and more dangerous than a single human without a weapon? The Fallen was trying to fit through the window, reaching out with its clawed paw to try and get her. Nicola looks around in panic, looking for anything that could save her. In a grocery store. Good luck. Eventually, she says "fuck it" and grabs a most likely rancid egg. The laughably small projectile splatters over the face of the demon with a squelch and even from far away Nicola is sure this egg was definitely rotten. Even the Fallen stops for a second to shake the disgusting goop off of its head but before it's done, another egg flies through the air and cracks on its head, just as stinky as the previous one.

"How'd ya, like that, asshole?! Wanna have some more?!"

Nicola yells at the demon, holding yet another egg, fully prepared to just chuck it at the monster. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was piss it off even further as its efforts in reaching her doubled. Pieces of plaster and bricks were coming loose as the demon tried to wriggle into the shop to finally kill that annoying pest lobbing small, smelly things at it. As a result, an egg once again hit the demon while Nicola kept shouting out profanities that probably made her poor mother toss and turn in her grave. She's not going down without a fight, even if the said fight is done by throwing eggs and all the gross shit she found on the floor. But she knew she isn’t getting out of this one.

And so, this is it. Nicola couldn't believe she would die by the claws of the same creature that nearly killed her once before. Was Ulthane rescuing her only delaying the inevitable? What a sick joke… Why does fate insist on being cruel? There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies she had to give… so little time… There was nothing she could do. At least… she will see Nicholas again.. her parents and every friend she'd lost in this cursed apocalypse. A miracle would've been nice. A tiny one. Just this once. Please?

And boy, did she get her wish. A sudden force violently tearing the Fallen out of the shop nearly startled her out of her dirty and tattered jeans. Hardly believing her eyes, she watched as her would-be killer screeched in rage and surprise when it was wrenched free from the ruined window and was gone from her vision. A sudden tremor shook the whole building, sending small bits of debris raining down on her head as a mighty roar reverberated through her very bones. But it wasn't the Fallen. It was something meaner. Something… Nicola swallowed thickly at the thought… bigger. Or at least as large as this fucker. Then came clacking of metal, ungodly screeching of the demon. A second later Nicola saw as it was flung through the air like a sack of potatoes and crashed against a block of flats. Instant karma. She thinks with bitter satisfaction when she remembers what that faggot did to Raphael. I need to somehow get to him. Honestly though, she doesn't really want to know what managed to just YEET a Fallen like a skipping rock.

Unfortunately, she finds out and finds out quite soon. From her hideout, she sees an enormous creature, nearly as big as the demon that threatened her, charging towards the stunned monster still bleeding from its mouth. If Nicola had been terrified of the Fallen, then she was on the verge of having a straight out SCA after seeing this chunk of a behemoth. Whatever this thing was, it was the size of an average tree. Its armored hide was burning with red and white flames which were enveloping twin jagged, metal whips it held in its hands. Vestigial wings were trembling with wrath as it turned its radiant white eyes at the battered demon. Between a pair of sweeping horns that crowned its head was a flickering blaze that flared with each step the monstrosity took towards its quarry. Right.. What's the best way to get rid of a monster? Sic a stronger monster on it. The Fallen shrugged off and growled at its new assailant, challenging it to a fight.

While the two beasts were circling one another, battling she couldn't even guess what for, Nicola braced for what was to come. This is a horrible idea. Breath in and breath out. In and out. And when the Fallen pounced at its attacker, she bolted. Not stopping, she ran. Through the street the demons were fighting on, past them - so close she could feel the heat radiating off of the newcomer - and into the building Raphael disappeared in. Nicola hoped she was ready for what she was about to find. She really did. Jumping in through the punched in wall however, she soon found out she was, in fact, not ready. The moment she entered, she immediately caught the sight that made something squeeze inside of her.

On a pile of rubble from the destroyed wall was Raphael coated in dust. Still. Not moving, his mesmerising white eyes shut. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, oh NO! Not thinking, all fear and uncertainty she ever felt in his presence was long cast away, Nicola rushed over to him pleading, begging everything that would listen for him to be alive. Don't leave me here like this… Dropping at his side into the rubble, Nicola lays her ear on the top of his chest and doesn't let herself relax until she hears a heartbeat and a shallow breath within. Words cannot describe how much she deflated once she did. He's still alive.. but he doesn’t look good.

"Raphael! Please say something! Can you hear me?!"

Thankfully, angel's eyes lolled open as she spoke to him, hinting that he indeed can hear her. Trying his best to keep his unfocused gaze on her face, Raphael furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his upper lip in a pained sneer as his hand wandered up to clutch at his side where the demon's heat struck him.

"Nnn… Nnii… co…"

He weakly attempted to speak but without much success. No joke, he must've hit his head really hard and she dreaded to think about the state of his ribcage.. But hey! At least he hears and understands what Nicola is saying. And it's a good sign.. right…? Wasting no more time, Nicola helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his forehead to steady him as his own palm rested over hers. Even squinting in pain, Raphael kept looking at her, as though she was the only point of focus he could think of.

"Hang in there, okay?! Please, Phel.. We'll be fine…"

Liar. Something snaps at her. They're pretty much defenseless and vulnerable with a very livid demon still threatening them. One or the other will come out victorious. And to the victor go the spoils… Raphael tried to say something but still couldn't formulate words properly due to the splitting headache pulsing through his entire skull. Though even through ringing in his head and pain in his chest that somehow rivaled the one he constantly felt, he found something in this human's words that baffled him. In her panic, Nicola doesn't catch a puzzled look he sends her way.

Phel?

A choked up cry of a dying demon made them both jump a little and look out through the hole Raphael made when the demon gored him. Just in time to see the flaming beast standing on top of the Fallen and strangling it with its whips. Then, the creature of… quite blatantly feminine curves gave one sharp tug and the demon's head was brutally severed from the rest of its body. And everything fell silent.

Instinctively, Nicola halted her breath and ceased any movement, watching the winner (Nicola felt fully comfortable with calling it per "she" now) shoot a glance towards her and Raphael who by this point tiredly laid his head on her shoulder, heaving in attempts to draw a proper breath. The creature approached slowly, keeping Nicola frozen in place and desperately holding onto her injured friend. When the demon was at the wall, only her massive legs were visible. Seconds ticked by as a set of claws rested above the opening to the house, and a monstrous head loomed through the hole.

That would be more than enough to make Nicola pass right the Hell out but.. Something about this creature intrigued her. It didn't have a snarling, toothy maw but an almost featureless face with the curve of a nose and a pair of bright and ferocious, intelligent eyes. It stared at her with more understanding than any demon Nicola had ever seen. Whatever it was, it didn't seem aggressive for some weird reason. At least not yet.. Then, unexpectedly, the creature was enveloped in red flames as its humongous form began to shrink and reshape into something much smaller but still a good two heads taller than an average human.

From the hot light emerged a very humanlike woman in intricate metal armor. Black tattoos marked her stern face around her luminous, white eyes and on her forehead, right below the line of incredibly dense magenta colored hair which floated freely around her head, defying gravity like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whoever it was, even with an intimidating aura of strength and resolve, her close resemblance to a human calmed Nicola somewhat. Plus, she had to admit that this woman had the looks. Men would probably be killing one another for her. Honestly, Nicola felt kind of jealous.. But considering she was still pretty much helpless with a half-conscious angel leaned against her, it didn't put her fully at ease. At least until the stranger spoke in plain English. Then Nicola finally released the breath she was holding. Crossing her arms, the tall lady sneered slightly at the human and angel before her.

"Well, would you look at that. Guess it's your lucky day today."

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

It's finally done, my goodness! This one was hard to get right but I made it. Don’t ask me how i managed to finish it with two pictures, I have no clue :I

Fury makes an appearance! Badass as always. :D

Also, can I get an F for Raphael's poor ribs?

[hoodedwing]

Loyalty Killed Me

Summary: The Joker could finally do what he wanted to do, traumatize Nightwing

Characters: Nightwing. Harley Quinn. Joker. Mentions of Red Hood

Warnings: Just really sick ways of stitching people up. Blood. Depressive. Major character/s death mentions. Batman. Doctor Leslie Thompkins

Additional Notes: I know Joker cannot traumatize Grayson canon-wise? Please correct me if I’m wrong.

Word Count: 2,242 words

***

Time doesn't stop.

Time knows, in its hands. It plays around with the seconds. These seconds matter, someone dying, someone on the communicator whispering, ____ come get me. come get me, I can't go back.

Time doesn't freeze. Time does not have a cloak drapes around it in a timeless manner. Time does not walk in a regal manner and stroke your gaping wounds to cauterize them. Apply pressure because really, when did Time wait for you to stop the damned arterial spray? Have you seen first hand how much blood can spew, almost like a fountain from that serrated dagger?

Time has caught up with Dick Grayson, the Wonder Boy. The Nightwing Blüdhaven didn't deserve. The loving boyfriend/husband of Barbara Gordon. The first son of Bruce Wayne, Batman.

Batman. He doesn't know who's Batman. Not anymore.

-

3200..6400..12800..

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Remember, inhale slowly, inflate lungs. Let it circulate through. Let. Let it work.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters.

Pain.

Pain is relative. If you fuck with pain long enough, it won't fuck back with you. Pain spreads through him and he inhales deep, bigger breaths. Trying to drown out the searing ache. He succeeds, deceives his brain.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He knows how to lie, how to smile widely at the Blüdhaven precinct when shit goes down or still tell a joke or two when Damian is there.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He's a good man. Honest to goodness. He's fooled himself into thinking his left leg didn't feel on fire, he's successfully managed to stop gasping against the rattle of his chest, a rub or two might be the cause. Who knows?

BOY WONDER! SAD YOUR DEAREST BATMAN HASN'T COME TO SAVE YOU YET? WHY LOOK AT THAT.

Mistah J checks his watch and smiles, his crooked smile stares back at Richard.

Dick only looks away as the Joker's cold fingers run his slimy, skinny fingers along his body. He used to shiver under his touch in a bad way, he would gulp and squeeze his eyes shut, hunting for memories to dive into.

When he got Zitka. When his mother named him her Robin. When he went on patrol for the first time with the all mighty Batman. When he first met Jason. Then Tim. Then Damian. Then the nights they spent healing wounds, fighting together or just sleeping or Netflix.

Dick doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He doesn't even let out a humourless laugh or a quip. Dick clings onto a hope.

Batman. Come get me.

BOY WONDER IS STILL LIVING. WHY, THAT'S A JOY. COME OUT THERE LITTLE BLUE BIRD. YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN STAY IN THAT LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS? WHEN YOU WAKE UP. THAT LEG WILL HURT. YOUR BLOOD WILL SPILL AGAIN ON THAT DARNED LITTLE CREST.

He doesn't care. The glorious speech does not make him flinch. He looks at the window, one thought crosses his cloudy vision.

Bruce (Dad), come get me.

LET'S HAVE SOME MORE FUN, SHALL WE. EVEN JAYBIRD PLAYED THIS GAME TOO. COME ON, HE HAD FUN. LET'S PLAY BLUE BIRD. BLUE JAY. HMM. I LIKE THAT.

-

Playtime.

Its always target practice. He would lie there and watch Harley swing her mallet here and there, sometimes too close to Dick and she would talk to him, so sweetly.

Aww, you wanna play too? Let's play together, shall we?

His face will clench up, his head will scream and suddenly everything is loud as Harley fires guns at targets and maybe shoot some arrows at Dick.

On lucky days, he's used as her gymnast prop.

I want to fly again. Batman I'm falling, please I'd like to fly again. My wings are clipping and I will rip. -

He falls asleep.

You can't call it sleeping. Dozing in and out of consciousness, he was neither awake or sleeping. A grey haze flittered across his vision. No sign of clarity. He still heard the rattle of his breath, the fire in his leg. The now warm abdomen.

He feels someone at his leg.

Harley Quinn was there, a sly smile as he feels a needle go in and out.

In and out. In and out.

In and out, in and out. You need to breathe Dick. In and out. In and out.

When he hears the door shut and a ricocheting silence, he peeks at his leg.

A sick suturing of his leg stabs with dental floss, a handiwork Harley was sure to boast later on. He doesn't care if it gets infected. What's the big deal? Batman will take care of it.

He turns over on his side to his communicator lay. The Nightwing emblem was shattered beyond measure. No matter, I can get a new one. The communication mattered.

He presses the distress signal again, again. Again. Bruce better get that flashing orange light and he should feel his bipolar touch in no time.

He tries to talk, voice hoarse from decreased usage and a rough sandpaper-like quality stuck to it.

"H..hello? Bruce. Dad. Please get me. I'm.. I'm waiting. Please."

He turns back in his side, curled up like an invited animal.

The rain pours, shadows keep coming in and out but none belong to his dad.

The boy asks the moon if Batman had lost his way. Asked if the moon could shine the light brighter at him so Dad can find him faster. He'll be okay, he'll be okay. Bruce might be lost, after all. There's a lot of streets and time isn't on anyone's side.

-

Two weeks go by.

Dick still finds himself bound by the ties and definitely no sign of the caped crusader.

Batman is surely coming.

That thought fades slowly, over the weeks. He's gotten more used to the Joker and the crowbar.

Is this how Jason felt, when he was in Hell?

Dick cannot remember. Dick only knows how the sound of metal and bones work, how the bullet will hit skin, pierce it through with frightening velocity and dull ache afterwards. The pool of blood will remind him that yes, I was shot.

A sick game of Russian Roulette. Instead of one bullet, there's multiple. A .44 magnum shouldn't hurt anymore. The revolver keeps spinning in his mind where acrobats should be. Where's Bruce. Where's dad. Am I forgotten?

Dick tried to remember how to breathe. Is it that hard? Just pulling in oxygen and letting the respiration mechanism do its work?

Distract thine self.

He tries to remember. Tries. He's trying. Nightwing has to do this. You need to at least remember your name. Your mother, your father. Dick. Dick.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful but I don't know what her hair colour is, sometimes it's blonde or chestnut and your father was handsome.  You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters. Are they Jason? Tim? Da- I don't remember, I don't remember the tiny one. Is he even real? Your sisters too. Stephanie, Stephanie. I have one more, the sneaky one. She's fast but I don't know her name. I'd like to know her well too. Pity I. I don't know her name. I hope she knows my name. That way I can hear her voice and maybe figure out who is the charming one. I know she does ballet. I know she made brownies once with.. Who? I don't remember his name. The old man with cheery wrinkles and deep eyes. I don't know who he is too. Oh. Oh oh. Dick.

[DANGEROUS TO FALL ASLEEP, RICHARD JOHN 'DICK' GRAYSON. EYES. OPEN. EYES. OPEN. BREATHE. (MY LUNGS DON'T WORK)]

I'm begging someone, please. It doesn't have to be Bruce. Get the ballet girl to help me please, she fast and maybe I can ask her name while she gets me out of here.

-

Bruce never gives up.

You know that too, do you? He's spent 3 weeks finding his son. His beloved child.

Do you ever think how much Bruce's heart breaks over and over everyday?

-

"ALFRED?! CAN YOU GET JASON NOW, NOW, NOW?! I FIGURED HIS COORDINATES."

Bruce flips from the Batcomputer and grabs everything. A blind haste, he's never dressed so fast. His son. Oh my god, his son.

Jason is down there getting the Batmobile to rev up and they speed.

They speed.

Are they fast?

I guess. If you call 290 in 85 fast.

They run, Jason dashing first and his breath catches in his throat. A cold draught erupts inside of him. He snarls, Bruce turns as he digs through the alleyways. He finds what he knows lurks.

"The sick fucker is going to end Dick in the same fucking warehouse he ended me in. That big bitch.

Bruce puts one hand on his shoulder and squeezes. No time to panic, Dick is the one. is the unsaid message as Jason crashes through the window.

And even him, Red Hood. The one who sees and commits murder everyday, stops and hot anger sears through him.

Dick lies, barely 15 feet away, bound up and covered in his own blood, the ripped Nightwing suit from his recon mission. Bruce picks him up while Jason gladly punched (and secretly plugged a bullet) the fuck out of Mistah J and Harley.

They lie on unconscious, Jason evaluates the scenes, trying to suppress his screams at what they've done to Grayson.

Bruce picks up Dick like he's glass, he hurries to the Batmobile with Jason telling to prepare the Medbay.

"The Medbay.. I.. I don't think. Leslie. Leslie can."

Is all Bruce says and Jason revs up, driving the Batmobile way beyond the legal limit. Bruce doesn't give a flying banana about it. He'll pay the fine later.

Bruce looks down at his son, hoping he hasn't fallen asleep yet. Finally, finally Dick is in the arms of the crusader. Half his domino mask is ripped and Bruce tries to not break at the baby blues staring without any light-hearted gaze.

His heart still beats (A reminder he's alive and could've been more alive. Bruce failed him)

"LESLIE. DR THOMPKINS!"

Jason screeches across and marching in, earning angry stares  from the other patients but it turns into gasps and horror when they see Batman carry a limp Nightwing barely clad in spandex anymore. Everyone bows out, knowing they were priority.

-

Something inside Dick broke.

He doesn't know what it is.

He'll live with it.

-

"Bruce, he's fallen into a coma."

Leslie says, solemn. Angry tears form in Jason's eye and he was about to fight Bruce, give him the tirade. Compare him to Nightwing.

The unspoken message rings loudly in Bruce's mind. He doesn't need Jason to say it.

You failed him too.

Jason is seething, anger. Sadness a d everything is violating him from inside.

If you were a minute later, he would've died. We would've been carrying his body to the grave. The Joker would still live. You see the problem? DO YOU NOT SEE THE FUCKING PROBLEM?

Bruce sits beside Dick, his pulse like a fluttering butterfly. He grasps his hand in Duck's fragile one and prays.

Prays that he wakes up.

-

Dick is on a life support machine now.

I guess the ventilator couldn't keep him up. All good boys do die. If not, maybe a part of them broke.

Dick is no exception.

-

Alfred squeezes Bruce's hand. Jason sits so quietly beside him alongside the rest of the family.

Its April 27th. Jason was taken this day.

They don't say a word, neither does Red Hood, he just wants the baby blue eyes to open again.

He cries.

-

Five months have gone by and he stirs slowly.

He's barely moving and Jason shoots up and looks, squeezes Dick's hand again.

Baby blues meet emerald green.

Jason dashes for Leslie. She comes and shoos everyone out.

Jason is fucking glad. Dick is alive.

-

Bruce is disappointed.

He cannot bring himself to meet Dick who's currently in the ward under observation. He's failed Dick. He knows it.

He enters, heavy hearted. Dick is smiling at everyone but Bruce can see it, the hard lines. The sunshine doesn't reach the baby blues. He thinks they've turned into aquamarine, a shade tad too dark. I guess, that's what trauma does to people.

Dick smiles at Bruce, he feels the tension and Dick pats the chair beside him where Jason was sleeping. Bruce softly sits, he has no heart to wake Jason up.

Dick is alive. Dick is alive.

Bruce places one hand on Grayson's one, it feels much more warmer and his pulse is beating normally.

And he breaks.

He cries, tears steaming down his cheeks. An ugly sound escapes his throat. Bruce gasps in air and exhales shakily. Dick watches, silent.

Is this how you felt when I was in Hell?

Dick doesn't touch Bruce, doesn't say its okay and I'm alive. He stares dead into Bruce.

I cannot forgive.

Dick sits quietly, he doesn't have to say it. Loyalty does kill you in the end if you step on all the wrong pieces of glass.

That's when you find yourself falling from the trapeze line, you find yourself swirling again in the memories you wish you could lock.

Loyalty in the end, is your demise.

[crimsonbluemoon]

For the prompt game 12//07//25 please? Ah... Ohmtoonz? or a pair you've been itching to do :3

EACH TIME I SAY I WONT OVERDUE IT

Yet here we are. >.> 

AU: BabysitterTrope: Childhood friendsPrompt: “I know this looks bad, but I swear it’s not.” 

Pairing: Ohmtoonz

“Okay, I know this looks bad-” Ryan had to take a deep breath to keep from bursting out in laughter at the scene. His kitchen, which had been pristine and tidy when he’d left for a meeting with his lawyer three hours ago, was covered in more colors than he thought he could process. In the middle of the room sat Joe, hands splotched in yellow and smearing the substance down the tiles already coated in pink. The ‘babysitter’, (the term used very loosely, since it was a last minute decision after Joe’s original babysitter got sick) was in no better shape. Blue clumps of paint (Ryan hoped it was paint) were threaded through hair he remembered being much fluffier when they were children. Age had tamed it, though the red beard was even brighter now with fingerpaint between the strands. The place, his four year old son, and his babysitter were a disaster that Ryan still wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry over. “But I swear it’s not.”

“Luke.” Trying to keep from smiling, Ryan stepped forward, hands leaving his slack’s pockets to point above. “My ceiling is purple.” 

“And orange!” Joe supplied happily, splashing his hands down into an actual pile of paint beside him. 

“What happened? You’re a police officer; you literally shoot people for a living. How did a four year old get the jump on you like this?” Ryan had to tease, because it’d been so long since he’d been able to. Luke had always been the one that got away; his best friend for nearly two decades before, at eighteen, he left to travel Europe and ‘find his meaning’ in life. Ryan had wanted to go, nearly asked to join, but had simply stood in the airport and held back tears just long enough for Luke to enter the gate without seeing them. He’d been head over heels in love back then, and sometimes he’d thought the feeling was mutual. But all the ‘what ifs’ flew away with Luke on his plane, and Ryan had forced himself to move on. 

Eight years, one messy divorce, and a son later, Ryan had run into his high school love at the bank four months prior. Luke had come back to their hometown years ago to become a cop, but Ryan’s wonderful ex-wife had demanded he move to the west coast with her. He’d never got wind of Luke’s return, too distracted by the birth of Joe and the mother of his child abandoning her duties to run off with the pool guy. Ryan hadn’t been able to move back to his hometown until four months ago, still working on finalizing the paperwork and letting Joe finish his first year in pre-school before moving him back across the country. 

He’d felt a little lonely, raising his toddler without a hand to help support him on days he didn’t want to get out of bed. It wasn’t like his marriage had given him much in that department, either. She’d been distant after Joe was born, jealous of the attention Ryan gave their son, and sought her happiness in someone else. She hadn’t even said goodbye to their son when she left, which had been the coldest part of it all. And Ryan didn’t know how to de-thaw from her abandonment. Joe helped, because he was Ryan’s world. Honestly, the only good thing about the marriage was the ball of optimistic sunshine. But he had bouts of crying and questions about why his mom left that kept Ryan awake and aching for hours. Wounded with nobody willing to help heal him. Maybe he’d always been that alone, that empty and unlovable-

Except one look of relief and the words ‘There you are’ in a bank full of people was enough to fill his heart to the brim again. 

“Your kid’s way sneakier than the idiots in our town.” Luke glanced down at Joe with a grin that proved his next words were affectionate. “Like a damn little squirrel.”   

“That’s my favorite animal!” Joe gasped out, and Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Two days ago, it had been a flamingo. He’d begged Ryan to buy him a lawn decoration of the pink bird, which Ryan had firmly said no to. They barely even had a lawn, and he knew that Joe would never play with it. The puppy dog eyes were hard to refuse, but Ryan was getting better at putting his foot down. They did not need the bird.

But then Joe asked Luke, who bought it before Ryan came back from the bathroom. Ryan wasn’t sure who he scolded more that night over chicken fingers and fries. 

“Yup, you mentioned that. Six times.” Without an ounce of annoyance, Luke let Joe climb onto his lap, sitting cross legged so the toddler had a better seat. Green was smeared over Luke’s sweatpants from where Joe had dragged his knees, but like the amazing human he was, Luke didn’t show any regret over being a human jungle gym. “And remember what I told you each time?”

“Daddy’s favorite animal is a bunny,” Joe chirped back, and the long forgotten memory bubbled up too quick for Ryan to hide his blush.

“Luke!”

“What? I didn’t tell him why you like rabbits so much.” Except there was a grin on Luke’s face that was anything but innocent. Because how could it be, when Luke had never let him live down the time he walked in on Jonathan and Evan’s first time. He hand’t meant to blurt out ‘they were fucking like rabbits’ so loudly, and didn’t know that Mini had been recording the party. Craig got the perfect angle of Ryan nearly throwing himself down the stairs to escape the traumatizing experience. He wasn’t sure who had the tape anymore (maybe Panda, since his friend always liked to watch it whenever he was needing a pick me up), but Ryan had to guess that Luke watched it over a hundred times. 

“We’re not talking about this,” Ryan said, sending Luke a meaningful look through his blush. “We need to talk about who’s going to clean this disaster you and my son created.” 

“I’ve got the kitchen if you take the rugrat.” The offer of help was so simple, yet every time, it sucker-punched Ryan. Luke had not been expecting Joe when Ryan came back from California, blaming Jonathan’s ‘lack of understanding with the English language’ as to why he didn’t know. Ryan hadn’t been a fan of social media, and only kept in touch with a few old friends from the town. But like Joe was his own, Luke didn’t hesitate to jump into the fray with Ryan, helping out whenever he could. Being a cop meant weird hours and long shifts, but Luke never complained when he popped over to visit them after work. Ryan never needed to ask for help; Luke just gave it. Whether it was cooking Joe food while Ryan took a much needed shower, or picking out pjs as Ryan bathed the fussy kid, Luke was there to lend a hand and a smile right when Ryan needed it.

But for the life of him, Ryan couldn’t figure out why. Luke was attractive and single, and the talk of the town even now. It was hard to go into the supermarket without hearing one of the cashiers asking Ryan how Luke was doing. It was common knowledge in their little town where Luke spent most of his days, and it seemed people thought the best way to catch his attention was through befriending Ryan again. The jealousy and insecurity from high school reared up, and Ryan had to attack it with a fire hose to keep from Luke knowing. Luke had a right to date, to court whoever he wanted, because he didn’t owe Ryan and Joe anything-

“Uh oh, daddy’s daydreaming again.” Joe’s words and a snort of Luke made Ryan re-focus, turning his attention back to the two still on the floor. Luke looked so content with the toddler in his lap, and Joe showed no signs of discomfort being so close to the other man. They were covered in paint and his house was a wreck, but Ryan felt his heart swell at the warm image. 

“Maybe you should go pick out your pjs so I can check in with your dad.” Luke’s words were like magic; with a quickness that he never had when Ryan asked him to move, Joe scampered out of the kitchen. Little purple footprints made Ryan groan, but his shoulders barely got to slump before warm hands were pulling him forward into a hug. 

“You’re covered in paint,” Ryan protested weakly, though put up no real fight. The smooth hand that slid down his spine melted his stress away, and Ryan felt helpless to the urge of sinking into Luke’s warm chest. 

“What did Tyler say?” Luke didn’t mince words, but kept his voice low against Ryan’s ear. There was no reason to shiver at the contact or intimacy of their position, because Ryan knew it meant nothing like what his heart hoped it would. 

“He said this next court case will be the final one; she’s not fighting for any custody.” He should have been happy about the news, since it’d been what he and Tyler had asked for when discussing Joe’s fate. But it’d stung, knowing that even now, his ex-wife wanted nothing to do with the son they had created together. How did he explain that to Joe when he got older? When he asked questions about her, when he got angry and confused about his own self-worth? Ryan would do whatever he could to raise Joe with love and care, but fights would happen. They’d disagree over bigger things than eating broccoli or only reading two stories before bed. Who would Joe turn to in those moments? That was why he’d probably tried so hard with his ex-wife to begin with; he’d never wanted Joe to feel unsupported or disadvantaged because he’d only have Ryan. 

But he couldn’t make her love Joe. And that killed him more than the divorce ever could. 

“She’s an idiot.” Luke’s words of anger toward a woman he never met was unlike him. Charisma and open-mindedness were his middle name, never judging a book by its cover. But Joe’s mother seemed to be the one exception, Luke showing disdain toward her from day one. “She had everything anyone could ever want, and she gave it up like an idiot.”

“You really liked babysitting Joe that much, huh?” Ryan tried to make a joke, but his laugh was cut off when Luke grasped his shoulders and pulled him back far enough to force eye contact. 

“I’m not just talking about him.” The serious gaze made it hard to breathe, Ryan’s chest stuffed with too much to sort through. His eyes blinked slowly, reminiscent of the unspoken feelings he’d shut down at the airport years ago. Now they oozed out without his permission, and he didn’t have a plane to help hide them this time around. 

“I’m…I’m not-”

“Not what? Intelligent? Charming? Sweet? A great father that your kid would spend every second of the day with if he could? Not someone who deserves love?” Luke’s words were followed by a grin, a warm palm cupping Ryan’s face and slowly dragging a thumb under his wet eye. “Not the most amazing guy I’ve ever got to meet? Who, if I ever got the chance to call my husband, would never go a day without knowing how crazy in love with him I was? Cause I’ll tell you right now, you are all of those things. Every single one of them. You are worth so much more than you could ever know. And I’ll knock out any fucking moron who says anything else.”

“Luke…” But what could Ryan say? His stomach fluttered at the words, hope rising in his throat and keeping his vocal chords from speaking again. There was no room for protest, because Luke’s steady words and lack of hesitation proved the statements came from his very being. He really saw Ryan as something to brag about, as someone to keep. When his own wife, who was supposed to want him until death do them part, threw him away. Ryan knew he needed to say something, to give a response in some way to the confession (and Jesus, did Luke say he loved Ryan?), but his mind was too fuzzy and scared to speak and destroy the fantasy. 

“Luke said a bad word!” Joe, however, had no such problems, and Ryan forced his eyes away from Luke to see his son with his hands pointing to the counter. “He needs to put money in the swear jar!” 

“Oh, ri-right.” Ryan swallowed slowly and tried to focus, but a little peek at Luke from the corner of his eye made his heart jump into his throat again. His blush was deep, he knew it, but there was no saving himself. “You owe a dollar to the jar.” 

Luke’s grin was a mile wide as he slipped past, dropping the bill into the jar while keeping his eyes set on Ryan. And when he spoke, Ryan knew he wasn’t speaking about the swear. 

“So worth it.”

[365days365movies]

January 3, 2021: Cliffhanger (1993)

Sylvester Stallone.

The Italian Stallion here is one of the most prominent action movie stars of the ‘80s and ‘90s, coming to prominence with Rocky in 1976. And before we even start this review, here’s the deal: I refuse to make fun of the man’s iconic voice. Yeah, I get it, we’ve all shouted “YOADRIAAAAAAH!” at some point, but his voice and face is due to a botched birth, which pinched a nerve and caused permanent facial paralysis. We all got something, and I’m not gonna target him for it. It’s been done enough.

I also can’t really comment on his acting ability. Why? Well...OK, some confession time. I’ve BARELY seen Stallone in a film. That’s going to be fixed this year, as I’ve added many of his films to the list for 2021. So, what have and haven’t I seen? Let’s start with haven’t, shall we?

I haven’t seen:

Rocky (1976): Sports November

Rocky II (1979): maybe Sports November

First Blood (1982): later this month

Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (1992): Please. Please don’t make me.

Cliffhanger (1993): Give it a minute.

Demolition Man (1993): Science Fiction September

Judge Dredd (1995): maybe Science Fiction September

The Expendables (2010): later this month

I have seen:

Tango and Cash (1989): Dumbass buddy cop movie with Stallone and Russell; 2/5.

Antz (1998): Sub-par Dreamworks rip-off of an already kinda sub-par Pixar movie; 2/5

Spy Kids 3: Game Over (2003): Yeah...I saw this in theaters, on my birthday. I saw everything in red and green for, like, an hour afterwards. Worth it. 2/5.

Rocky Balboa (2006): Somehow, this is the only Rocky movie I’ve seen, Creed included. And from what I remember, it was fine. 3/5.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017): The ONE good Stallone movie I’ve seen, and it isn’t even a Stallone movie. 5/5.

So, yeah, I haven’t seen any good Stallone movies, sans the one. But now, some of you are probably asking another question: “Why Cliffhanger? You literally haven’t seen any major Stallone movie, so WHY CLIFFHANGER?”

First of all, I think everybody’s kinda slept on this movie. It was a big success back in the day, but people have basically forgotten it at this point. You’ll see in this review that there aren’t even many GIFs from the movie made, and it wasn’t easy to find enough clips to make my own, honestly. Does it deserve to get slept on? I mean, we’ll see, right? 

Secondly, I just watched a Tom Cruise movie where he dangles off of a rope, and I liked that, so why not do that for the next one, I guess! And third...honestly, I saw this on the list, and it kinda just spoke to me. It called to me, like a boxer calling to his love. Hey, look, a reference to a movie I’ve never seen. We’ll get there. We’ll get there. Oh, and SPOILERS from here on out, by the way.

Recap

We start on a cliff. Surprise.

Michael Rooker (y’know, Yondu from Guardians of the Galaxy) is hanging out (HA!) with his girlfriend Sarah on a cliff called the Tower. Y’know, third date kinda stuff. First date is dinner, second date is dinner and a movie, and third date is free-climbing up a cliff to your near death. Well...near is a strong word…

ANYHOOOO, We meet Gabe, played by the big man himself, Sly Stallion, who’s a rescue ranger in the Rocky Mountains. So, Rocky, the Rockies Rescue Ranger is sent to save Yondu and Sarah. Unfortunately...someone forgot to check the equipment before the rescue mission…

Not gonna lie, this scene is actually heart-wrenchingly tense. And the ending...well, if you’ve seen Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls...you know what happens here. And it’s actually somewhat traumatic, for Gabe and for me. Seriously. It’s a roughie.

Cut to almost a year later, and Gabe is...NOT OK. He and his wife, Jessie (who is a pilot for the Rescue Rangers, and was there when Sarah fell), have been separate, and Gabe just can’t do it anymore. And I get it, honestly. That was a hard experience, losing someone and blaming yourself. And no, it wasn’t Gabe’s fault. But to add insult to injury, he has NO SUPPORT SYSTEM. His wife doesn’t seem to understand, his former best friend Yondu hates him (getting GotG Vol. 2 flashbacks), and he’s basically all alone. Geez. You guys are jerks.

Meanwhile, a plot is afoot! And hey, it’s Tripp from CSI: Miami, AKA Rex Linn! I always liked him, so it’s cool to see him in other roles. Turns out, though, that Tripp is working with a group of thugs to steal from the US Treasury. This villainous group of 8 thugs is led by John Lithgow, AKA Lord Farquaad from Shrek, who is channeling Hans Gruber from Die Hard, and trying super-hard on that British accent. Anyway, after a pretty great mid-flight action sequence, the group of thugs loses 3 suitcases of money, amounting to millions. In the process, they also lose Expendable Thugs #1 and #2. This will be a trend. 

The thugs crash their plane into the mountain, killing Expendable Thug #3 in the process. They stage a rescue situation to get some expert mountain climbers to help them find the money. Jessie, after having just told her hubby to suck it up like a big boy (I don’t really like Jessie, by the way), begs him to help find these people. Reluctantly, he agrees, and has a tension filled reunion with his former best friend, who blames him (unfairly, in my opinion). That animosity disappears as soon as they find themselves held hostage by the thugs. And so, the money hunt begins!

First suitcase is on a cliffside, and Stallone goes to get it. Some shenanigans quickly ensure, and the thugs shoot at him. An avalanche occurs because these dumbasses have never seen a movie, and in the process, we lose a suitcase of money, Expendable Thug #4 goes the way of Sarah, and Gabe is presumed dead. Farquaad tells Yondu to tell his coworkers that everything is fine, and he’s gonna stay on the mountain to ride out the storm. Which is #5 in the list of “moments in this movie where I would 100% die” I grew up in a warm climate, this is not a comfortable hypothetical situation for me.

Anyway, our intrepid team of criminals takes Yondu to find the next suitcase, while Jessie and Gabe separately make their way to the cabin that Yondu was talking about. They catch each other up, and they can’t contact the main office because...Jessie’s radio died in the cold? You...you work amongst mountains as a rescue officer for stranded hikers. That’s the best excuse the writers came up with? Why the hell didn’t she bring a better radio? They HAD to have spares, right? RIGHT? Geez, no wonder you needed Gabe’s help.

The tracker, with its marvelously outdated computer graphics technology (IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM IKNOWTHIS), leads the thugs to the next package, but not before Gabe and Jesse get there! Gabe leaves a ransom note for the money, holding it hostage. This eventually leads to a nighttime chase in the snow, leading to Expendable Thug #5 going The Way of Sarah.

By the way, it’s also at this point that I notice that it is VERY bright...for being in the middle of the mountains at night. And I get it, you can’t exactly have your movie be shot in darkness, but...look at this.

Like...wow. That’s the fakest outdoor shot I’ve ever seen. I guess I’m glad it isn’t a day-for-night shot, but...yeah. Wow.

Jesse and Gabe find themselves in a cave full of the cutest goddamn bats I’ve ever seen. This is supposed to be a harrowing experience, but simply makes me jealous. They’re fruit bats, by the way, and they’re also WAY too high up, altitude-wise. At least, that’s what I assume. I’m a bird-guy, not a bat-guy. Eventually, they make it out of the cave after Stallone does some free-climbing...loudly. Loud enough for the super-violent, sociopathic, knife-and-gun-loving Expendable Thug #6 to hear them. And that’s when Gabe ICE-PICKS HIM IN THE LEG DAMN

Understandably pissed, and not as understandably still walking around without crying (#6 in that list of me-dying moments), the thug finds and beats the SHIT out of Gabe, handily.  But then, he calls Jessie a bitch, and Gabe is, above all things a feminist. Which leads to him, and read this CLOSELY:

This leads to Stallone, bloodied and beaten, PICKING THE THUG UP OVER HIS HEAD, AND IMPALING HIM ONTO A STALACTITE. Not a stalagmite, a STALACTITE. HOLY SHIT!.

Well, Expendable Thug #6 is dead, there’s a bomb on the mountaintop, Jesse almost goes The Way of Sarah, and Frank (another guy who works with them, don’t know if I mentioned him) gets lured into a trap where he gets killed. An “Aww” moment from me; I liked Frank, he seemed like a really nice guy. This eventually leads to Farquaad and Tripp out-crazy-ing each other, and Farquaad winning by killing Expendable Thug #7, who does not go The Way of Sarah (blessed be her fall).

Gabe finds the remaining money, while Tripp, Yondu, and Expendable Thug #7 get there just after. Tripp leaves, and Yondu then delivers my favorite line of the movie:

Oh, sorry, no, it’s, “In a minute, I’ll be dead. You will always be an asshole.” Thug #7 beats the shit out of Yondu, I get flashbacks to GotG 2, and Thug #8 goes THE WAY OF SARAH, BLESSED BE HER FALL. Tripp finds the tracker without the money, and officially loses it, outing himself and Farquaad to the government officials who FINALLY get here.

Tripp finds Gabe, they make their way to a frozen mountain lake, and Gabe SHOOTS TRIPP FROM UNDERNEATH THE ICE. That shouldn’t have worked for many reasons, but that was cool, so fuck it. Now, it’s just Farquaad, BUT HE HAS JESSIE! OH NOOOOOOOooooooo.

This whole thing culminates in a tense, cool chase sequence between Gabe and Farquad in the helicopter. The helicopter crashes into the mountainside, and the two fight while on the helicopter, which is now hanging from the cliff.

Oh. Oh, I get it.

This inevitably leads to Farquaad and the helicopter going, of course, The Way of Sarah. Blessed Be Her Fall. #BBHF. 

And that’s it. Our three heroes are, themselves, rescued by the government agents, and we pan away from the cliffside, as the credits roll. Boom. Cliffhanger.

Stay tuned for the epilogue, which contains the review!

[chaoartwork]

Multivoid: Chapter 1

A fanfiction revolving around 2K, Palindrome and the alternate Zims in the aftermath of the Battlevoid arc.

Based on Invader Zim comic issues 46-49.

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

“Hey. Um. Brother?”

“Sure! What is it, brother?”

“Uh...do you...um. Do you ever worry?”

“Worry about what?”

“Well heheh! Ofcourse it’s a dumb question. But um. Do you ever worry that maybe this won’t last forever?”

“Whaaat?! Come on! Ofcourse it will last forever! We can make it last as long as you want it to!”

“But wouldn’t you want to too?”

“....Hm. You know, that’s a good question. I always pondered about that. Im guessing you might wonder about that too.”

“Wonder about what?”

“Wonder which one you really are. Which one is the real you....Hey! I got a question for you brother! Let’s say we use to be someone. But an event occurred that made you become someone else. Someone grants you the second chance to be that person again. Will you take it?”

“Hmmmm. Not entirely sure. It really depends if my original self was better than what I am now:”

“Better in what way?”

“I don’t know. Superior? More flawless? I think.”

“You seem unsure, brother.”

“Eh I don’t know. Who knows? Maybe that original me was worse than what I am now?”

“In what way?”

“Mmm not sure. Maybe evil? Careless? Dumb? Pitiful?”

“Do you really think that’s what you were?”

“I guess so. You?”

“Mm. I’m not sure either.”

“I see....”

“....I know! Let’s play! Just like old times!”

“Like old times?”

“Yeah! Like hide-and seek! I hide and you have to look for me!”

“You expect me to look for you in an area this big?”

“Uh-Huh! But it will be different! You need to find someone to convince them to come find me!”

“I don’t think that’s how the game works. Shouldn’t I be the only one to find you.”

“Yeah but it’ll get boring. Besides! It’s nice to get to know someone! Even if there’s a chance they can be sketchy!”

“Brother, I’m not sure if that’s a safe idea.”

“Aw come on, trust me! I know you can do it!”

“Hm. Fine. How do I start?”

“Well...first, you have to wake up!”

———————————————————-

Palindrome gasped a breath of water, his body violently shuddering for a few seconds as if it was springing back to life. Within a second after it happened, the heavy sensation rushed across his body. It felt as though he was about to dissipate again, but felt like his body was holding back from coming apart again. He felt his weak arms wrap around 2K as much as he could to which he timed on when he was going to catch him, making sure never to let him go.

He did not know how long he kept his eyes closed for or whether or not he really did knocked out, but few flashes of traumatic images from the battle swept through his mind for a split seconds, despite it feeling like forever and wanting to cry out on making it stop. He suddenly felt a soft nudge soon after. It felt warm and soft, interrupting the pain enough to relieve himself. Even if it was just a moment. The one who was nudging him felt small and round, having a bit of puffiness to them. He gulped down, hoping to have the strength to speak with his heart fluttering in hope on who it might be. He weakly flicked open his eyes again.

“T....2K....?”

 The blurry vision showed him what seemed like a pale blue figure instead of a light green as he had hoped. The vision slightly cleared up until he realized that the small being was softly hovering above him. The fish looking being had derpy eyes and squared buck tooth. What was that thing? Minimoose? No. That’s not his name. Why did he think that was his name? His name....is....

His breath stiffened from finally recognizing him.

“Mini....Miniwhale...? Is it really...?” He shakily reaches out, “Miniwhale...?”

“Nya,” the figure squeaked in a concerned tone and moved close in order to let him be able to rest his creator’s palm on the side of his body. Palindrome processed to make sure he really wasn’t hallucinating. No, he couldn’t be here. He just can’t. How could he have entered the Zimvoid? There’s just no absolute-

“”Nya?”

The fish Irken blinked.

“Wh...what are you...? What do you mean ‘where have I gone’? Why are you h-?”

He grunt from the unfeeling sensation rushing through his body returning, causing him to squeeze eyes shut and hug himself again.

“Nya?”

He found it impossible to respond to his subject this time, focusing more on fighting it back.

It took several seconds for it to ebb away, letting his body fully relax in exhaustion and breathe heavily.

“Nya!”

Yes I’m fully aware my bowl is very dirty thanks for reminding me at this time.

But he did not say that and instead respond weakly,

“Miniwhale. If it’s really you...please,” his eyes opened and trace back to him, “...help me.”

“Nya?”

He couldn’t tell him exactly what he needs help with. His body felt so useless that even speaking would easily tire him out. He can’t even look around the area because of how blurry his sight really was. There was really no telling when the horrible feelings were going to end. He felt like he could throw up at any moment.

“Nya...”

His heart melted by what the robot responded. He soon after started feeling him float down and nestle against his body. It made the unfeeling sensation grow numb again. He took a moment to process and choked up a bit, realizing how long it has been since he has encountered anyone close to him from his timeline. He gave out the strength to move his arm so he can rest it around him.

“Y-yeah....I missed you too.”

Miniwhale responded by nestling against his body more until he felt cozy against his creator. Palindrome wondered if he was doing this because he was trying to comfort him during the ill feeling or if it’s because he was embracing him after not seeing him for all those few months. It could maybe be both. Nonetheless, he felt his body start to shut down on him again. He wanted to beg his body so much on moving again. There was so much that he needed to know. What happened to the other Zims? What happened to the Elder? The Meat? Where’s that Zib? Where’s that alternate Dib?

2K....2K, are you still here? Did you come back too just like me? Why didn’t Miniwhale mention you or the others? Am I the only one who came back from....?

His eyes grew heavy until they closed shut to give into the unconsciousness.

...Where are you?

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

Zim can be seen laying face plant on a messy table sleeping, his drools having covered half of it. He can be heard softly snoring.

“Sir. Sir.”

There was a moment of no response.

“Hellooooo. Sirrrrr.”

“Huh! Wah!” Zim  jumps awake with pieces of styrofoams stuck on his face and quickly glanced around his lab in wonder.

“Sir. School will be starting soon.”

“Wait.” Zim processed and looked up at the ceiling, “you mean now?”

“Yyyyup.”

“WHAT?!” He exclaimed, “why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!”

The computer sighed,

“Sir, I tried to wake you up for two hours-”

“Urgh! Forget about it,” he rubbed the pieces of styrofoams off his face, “I’ll do this later. Just don’t touch any of them!”

“I am aware of that, sir. You tell me this everyday.”

“Well it’s always good to be reminded,” he hopped off his seat. “Computer! Initiate my brilliant disguise!”

The tube shot down to cover Zim’s body. It then pulled back up to show him in his human disguise. He then walks over to the elevator and goes up to the living room, to which he can see Gir watching his TV as usual.

“Your in charge of the house, Gir. Make sure Minimoose doesn’t eat them again.”

“Okie dokie!” Gir said without even looking at him and changed the channel.

There was a likely chance he didn’t even listen, but not like Zim couldn’t do anything about it. He just continued on and left his home base, walking out to the usual casual days. Basically how it was everything day. Somewhat cloudy skies, some bird flying by with some of them often time hitting a house and getting knocked unconscious. The neighbor next door always screaming in order for their husband to clearly hear them. Boy does he love this planet. But it won’t be any better until he conquers it.

 He walked passed the neighborhood and through the streets until it took him maybe half an hour to get to school, many kids having already gone inside. He walked inside the school, went passed the halls, ignoring some weird kid who was in the locker calling out nonchalantly to let him out, and was able to go inside the classroom just as soon as the school bell rang. Dib can be seen apparently not glaring at him as usual, instead scribbling on a journal.

Zim squinted, wondering what he was up to this time.

“Zim.”

The Irken flinched and turned to see Ms.Bitters behind him.

“Take your seat. Class is about to start.”

“Uh, right! Yes, Ms. Bitters!”

He went and did as she told him. Again, the school seat feeling uncomfortable as always.

“Alright, class. Today, we’re going to-“

She turned to notice Dib scribbling.

“Dib. I really do hope your not trying to write out your plans on how to get to Zim’s ‘secret alien lair’.”

The class giggles by her comment.

“Uh, no Ms. Bitter. It’s actually something different.”

“Oh? Then you might as well either stop scribbling whatever creative fantasy you always have in that big head of yours or would you like to spend more of these dragging moments of class time telling us what it is your scribbling about.”

“It’s just...have anyone noticed the stars looked off today?”

“Stars?” One kid asked in confusion.

“Yeah! For example, last night I was checking my telescope to see if Zim’s kind arrived as usual and the stars looked very different. Like...very different. There seems to be a lot more in the sky and not to mention that most of them look to be bigger than the others. Has anyone noticed that?”

“Dib, none of us aren’t into those stargazing gizmos like you do.”

“Ofcourse there is, ask Zim! He always checks to see what his kinds are up to.”

 “Hey now,” Zim narrowed, “don’t get me into this conversation!”

“Maybe there might be meteor showers tonight?” One kid suddenly guessed.

“Oh I hope so!” One girl said, “I wish for a talking pony!”

“I wish for a kitten!” Another kid said.

“I wish to be singer!”

“I wish for a world’s finest pizza!”

“I wish to be a rock-“

“Well apparently wishing on a star is part of something out of a fairy tale,” the teacher interrupted. “In life, you won’t get anything unless you decide to work hard in getting it. Now that we’re back to reality, can I now continue this section?”

The class stayed quiet.

“Good. Now then, today we’ll be talking about the Schrodinger’s Cat theory. Can anyone guess as to what it is?”

—————————————————

The school bell rings. Kids screams in happiness as they run out of school and jump out of windows as usual. Zim walks out of the door mumbling.

“What kind of dumb question is that? Of course the cat is dead! Or alive. How can a cat be both dead and alive? that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Dumb humans with their dumb logical sense-“

“You have something to do with it, don’t you?”

“Huh?” He turned behind him and saw Dib come out of the entrance and walk down the stair to approach him with a look of suspicions. Oh here it goes again.

“You’re plotting something, do you? Why are the night skies different tonight? Is it part of your next scheme?”

“Gee I don’t know Dib human,” Zim in annoyance, “why don’t you next time use that weak telescope of yours to see what these new stars actually are?”

“Because dad called me to go to bed before I could analyze it more. So tell me, Zim! What are they?”

“Ok first off, if they were really part of my next glorious plan, I would not tell you what they are. Second, I have not analyzed the galaxies in a while.”

“Don’t you check the galaxy every night? Like, to check what the invaders are up to and all of that?”

“WHAT?!” He exclaimed, “HOW DO YOU KNOW?!”

 “You one time complained about them doing something that was bugging you.”

“LIES! ZIM WOULD NEVER TALK ABOUT OTHER LESS SKILLED INVADERS!”

“Whatever, man. I guess I tend to forget that you’re not too active with your ambitions as usual.”

“That is also lies! Zim has become more ambitious with his great conquest to conquer your planet more than ever!”

“You mean by studying those things.”

“What things?”

“The packing pea-“

“I knew what you were talking about.”

Dib sighed and facepalmed.

“You spent the whole night studying them again?”

“They’re very important! I must know what their purpose really is!”

“Zim, you told me this for like what? The thirtieth time? And besides, what makes them so important? They’re just packing peanuts.”

YOU ARE WRONG STINK BOY! Those packing peanuts had much more potential than you should EVER know! Especially that one time!”

“One time?” Dib’s eyebrow raised.

“Yeah!” Zim smiled, “that one time when I-“

There were few seconds  of silence. Zim stopped smiling and processed.

“Ok, maybe they haven’t done anything yet, but I’m SURE they have a purpose. I just need to remember what it was!”

 “And how long exactly will that take?” Dib crosses his arms in annoyance, “you’ve been going on about it for a year now. Mostly because of that little ‘incident’. And it’s because of that incident that not only do you focus on them, you have been obsessed about them more and more.”

“And THATS because I am getting closer and closer to uncovering it’s purpose. Watch me, stink human...watch me! When I uncover the power of those styrofoams, you can no longer stop me! I will be able to conquer my planets with my BARE hands! Or feet, any of those can work.”

  Zim lets out a laughter before running off to the street. Midway, his maniacal laughter turns to a yelp of shock as a car can be heard honking in the distance and then crashing sounds are heard, with one woman screaming,

“Hey watch where you’re going, stupid kid!”

Dib stares off at the scene and sigh in annoyance.

“Of all supernatural I could be chasing, why does my main focus have to be him?”

[bigskydreaming]

The Ric Grayson AND Talon storylines both end at the same time, and in the same way:

Great Grandpa Creeper Cobb successfully manipulates Ric into position to be brainwashed and become the Talon that Willie the Weenie has always wanted him to be.....this happens for like, two issues.

Then Grandpa Get Ye To A Graveyard Already fucks up....he accidentally brings Talon Ric within sighting distance of the Court’s latest crop of prospective Talon recruits, including a wee baby ten year old orphan being trained to be a future Talon.

And the essential corn kernel of Dick Grayson’s essence, deep down in his psyche, just fucking POPS like its Orville Redenbacher and someone just nuked it in the microwave.

And the real Dick Grayson comes SHRIEKING to the forefront of Talon!Ric’s brain, nothing subtle about it, and the next thing his Rancid Relative knows, he’s being fucking impaled by his great grandson’s blades as said great grandson, who is SUPPOSED to be docilely brainwashed, wtf, is already halfway across the room, diving into the mass of other Talons like they’re a collection of bowling pins and he’s a wrecking ball straight out of a Miley Cyrus music video, but instead of the caterwauling lyrics “I never hit so haaaaaaaard in love,” Dick’s accompanied by a soundtrack of him screaming:

“I WILL PROTECT YOU SMOL CHILD!!!”

As said smol child is just standing there, staring, like....dude, wut?

And then Dick finishes absolutely DESTROYING everything undead and nefarious in sight like he’s the Tasmanian Devil on meth, and he turns to said smol child and begins the process of Smothering, as his hands flutter all up and down checking for injuries but not touching, like: 

“Did they hurt you are you alright you’re safe now cough once for I’m all good or punch me in the no-no’s if I’m making you feel unsafe, I will make sure you are totally safe from here on out, you are my baby now, I have decided, but like, only if you want to be.”

And smol child is decidedly overwhelmed but Man-Who-Speaks-Like-He-Has-Pixie-Sticks-In-Place-Of-Blood-Vessels seems harmless, if weird, and is definitely preferable to the weird Bird Men who kidnapped him off the streets and tried to teach him how to kill people and make death threats out of nursery rhymes. And he doesn’t have a lot of experience in OTHER subterranean lairs to compare this one too, but he’s decidedly not a fan, so when Dick asks if he would like him to take him to see Batman and Batgirl and Robin and other superheroes who can also reassure him there will be no more homework on How To Torture People Good, he’s like....”yeah I guess. If you want.”

And so Dick scoops him up with glee and takes off through the tunnels, yelling back over his shoulder: “Bye Greatly-Gross-Grandpa, hate you lots, don’t call, don’t write, you’re officially off my Christmas card list, hasta la neeeeeeeeeever.”

Thereupon swiftly grappling across the Bludhaven rooftops, yelling PARKOUR! just because he can and its fun, and its weirdly relaxing for his wee passenger, because look, this dude may be weird as fuck, but he’s clearly got the moves to protect him from the Undead Legions of Ornithologists and he seems too....fun to be evil, like not in the Joker kinda way like he’s seen on TV in previous foster homes where its like, jeez dude, try hard much, but more like an adult who just quit a soul-crushing cubicle-dwelling corporate-craphole job and has suddenly been reminded that the sky is blue, flowers smell good, and there IS a Santa Claus, Virginia.

Thus by the time they arrive at Wayne Manor, with no attempt made to hide where they’re going from his wee passenger’s eyes - Dick has already decided he’s keeping the kid, pending said kid’s approval but look, kids like him and he’s determined to bring his A game to the pitch meeting, so he likes his chances - said wee passenger disembarks in the Batcave but stays close by, clinging to Dick’s side in an ever so slight way that allows for plausible deniability later, once he gets his bearings and also his bravado back.

“Dick?!” Comes the chorus of voices from the rest of the family, who are all there already, by great coincidence and in great defiance of the crapfests in their own individual titles, but also who the fuck cares. And Dick puffs out his chest, cuz he’s putting on a good show for his new kiddo, first impressions are important...

“Tis I, fam! The one true Dick Grayson has returned! Huzzah!”

Look, being completely oblivious to his Greatest Dork Energy coinciding with his Times He Most Attempts To Be Impressive, is like, Peak Dick Grayson characterization, you can trust me, I’m a doctor. 

And Tim’s like, “Why are you dressed like a Talon?”

And Dick’s like, “Isn’t the better question why AREN’T you dressed like a Talon?”

Which makes no sense but shhh, I’m running out of steam here, don’t question the atmosphere, just let it be.

And Bruce is like, “Who’s your friend?”

With like...designs and agendas already in mind, because said wee Talon-to-be is cute and adorable and bravely trying to act like he is not at all intimidated by his surroundings and is in total control of what’s going on like, he meant to be here, this is all according to plan, yes, excellent, everything is progressing nicely....

Which as everyone knows, are the three key essential traits Bruce looks for in prospective adoptees....

So Dick snarls and later blames it on residual Talon-ness, they’re very territorial bird...assassin....people....anyway, the adrenaline is still high and also he has swiftly become attached because whether kiddo knows it or not, Dick 100% credits him with the brainwash-breaking and thus when factored in with the cuteness quotient, what we have here is an instant recipe for Protectiveness slash Possessiveness that would be creepy and inappropriate if this wasn’t pure crack. 

But crack it is, and thus Dick curls a protective arm around the kiddo like the lap-bar on a particularly turbulent roller coaster and applies G-Force sufficient to keep even Superman from prying him out of his hands - but in a gentle, non- ’crushing kinda way that might hurt the kiddo,’ even though physics doesn’t work like that, except look, these are CRACK PHYSICS, they can and they do work like that. 

And he’s all, “I already adopted him, so back off, Bruce, I’ll cut you. But also hi dad, I missed you. In spirit I mean, like I had amnesia and then I was brainwashed so technically its probably a reach to say I missed anyone but just roll with it. Also I can haz hugs now, please?”

And then Damian apparates in front of Dick amid a cloud of Disapproval that’s really just a cover for OMG-I-Was-Without-You-And-It-Was-Terrible-And-I’m-So-Glad-You’re-Back-But-Also-Who-Is-This-Interloper-And-Why-Is-He-Stealing-My-Hug.

“Tt. Grayson. Your absence was...less than desirable. See to it that this doesn’t happen again. Also what is that and why is it here.”

“Aww, Dami, I’m sorry. I promise to install a “please have the nearest available psychic reboot my brain in case of future brain damage slash amnesia” clause in my living will, and soon as I get a free second, I’ll break the fourth wall and blackmail the DC editorial staff into declaring me off-limits for all death, brainwashing and/or kidnapping plots for at least the next four major crossover events. I have naughty pictures. They’ll cave.”

“Hmph,” Dami says. He resumes staring pointedly at the kiddo, who juts his chin defiantly and stares back while clinging more tightly to Dick, because he may have very little clue what’s going on, but he’s a quick one and has at least picked up on the fact that Dick wants him and this other kid wants Dick. Which combined with the rescuing and the kicking of bad guy ass means Dick is probably Quality and In Demand and Of Value, and thus he might as well stake a claim now and worry about whether or not to act on that or skedaddle later, once he’s got more intel. He’s a natural Bat, this one, but then, that’s probably why he was in Toddler Talon Boot Camp, he scored high on whatever weird aptitude tests they used to scope out talent, and by talent we mean murder-skills.

“Dami,” Dick admonishes then, “This isn’t an it, he’s a person, and he was recently traumatized so promise me you’ll be on your best behavior or at least your ‘engaging in shenanigans with Jon’ behavior. And he’s not competition, you’re my Dames and my little bro, and he’s potentially your nephew, which is a whole separate category and no threat to you and your baby bro status at all, so retract the claws. If anything, the real danger is Pops adopting him and thus supplanting you as the official Baby Bird of our generation, so make like an ally and help me get that dangerous “I’m gonna adopt this kid so hard” gleam out of Bruce’s eye before it gets any gleamier. We’re still only halfway through my tearful reunion and having to cut Dad before we even get to cake would be a major mood-killer, but I’ll do it, I swear. Also, get your Baby Bird behind over here and hug me already, I have two arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes but obediently disappeared and reappeared nestled against Dick’s other side in the blink of an eye. The proper application of ninja skills has always been the pursuance of hugs and cuddles. Thus sayeth the crack.

“Hey, I do get cake, right?” Dick asked suddenly, looking around dangerously. “I was amnesiac and also brainwashed, I deserve cake, TELL me there’s gonna be cake.”

“Well that answers whether or not we should be worried about this being an attempted infiltration or not,” Jason says, strolling over casually. “No impostor or brainwashing script-writer could ever duplicate the Essence de Dick so perfectly. Hey squirt. Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

“Oh right,” Dick realized, cocking his head. “Hey, what is your name?”

“Really, Dick?” Tim sighed, fondly exasperated. “I realize you like to jump from A straight to Z whenever possible, but steps B through Y aren’t usually just mere suggestions.”

“It hadn’t come up yet,” Dick defended himself.

“Yes, why would it have,” Duke mused from where he was leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s eyes, in a futile attempt at tearing his gaze away from the viable adoption candidate within 20 meters from him. It was probably best that they get this adoption thing inked out and signed off on as soon as possible - it was the only thing that was definitively going to get that “Argh, I’ve spotted treasure ahoy” look out of Bruce’s eyes. And Alfred had been very clear :Bruce was forbidden to adopt any more kids himself until he got a better handle on juggling the six he already had. Which. The past year had...probably not met Alfred’s standards on, so it didn’t seem likely he’d be waiving that requirement any time soon. 

(And nobody wanted to get in between the Unstoppable Force that was Bruce’s ‘must adopt all the orphans’ and the Immovable Object that was Alfred’s ‘must maintain at least a reasonable fascimile of order in this household, even if it is a total sham, appearances matter.’)

“Hey!” Dick protested. “I’ve been busy, okay? There was fighting and then there was parkouring and now we’re reunifying, and it wasn’t like I was just calling him ‘that kid’ in my head, I was calling him ‘my kiddo’ which is a perfectly reasonable identifier and thus more specific detail just....hadn’t been relevant yet!”

“So uh, bee tee dubs, what is your name, buddy?” Dick asked, looking down. His kiddo looked back up at him for a long, measuring moment, and then he shrugged.

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some cake. You said something about there being cake, but I don’t see any.”

Dick got misty-eyed at that. “See? He already prioritizes like me. This was destiny! Also, you heard my kiddo, do we not deserve cake? It has been a very long day, there was murder and mayhem and more. Also, my creeper great grandpa was there being icksome, and you know how much that weirds me out.”

“Come along, Master Dick,” Alfred said then, appearing out of nowhere thanks to his Bat-Butler Magic. “And your young charge as well. I already have your favorite baking in the oven and it should be done shortly. Lemon meringue with raspberry layers.”

“That’s disgusting and I will not participate in any ceremony that treats that as part of a celebration instead of just a weird kind of laxative,” Jason said loftily, though it escaped no one’s notice that he was the first to the stairs.

“Shut your facehole, its delicious and amazing and you will like it or I will kick your ass,” Dick said, equally loftily.

“Boys,” Bruce said with a long-suffering sigh, as the threat of brotherly bloodshed was enough to finally shake him out of his orphan-induced stupor.

“At MARIO KART. I will kick his ass at MARIO KART, ugh, jeez, B, why do you always assume the worst of us?”

“Precedent,” Tim said dryly.

“Who the hell asked the Oompa Loompa Brigade to weigh in with all ninety of his pounds?” Jason called back from the top of the stairs. 

Cass came up on Dick’s left, where the kiddo was one half of the sandwich made by him and Damian on Dick’s other side. She smiled down at him when he directed his still very wide-eyed gaze at her, landing on her after his latest sweep of the cavern and all its contained chaos, as if trying to take it all in - most likely in the hopes that if he could manage that, somehow the last 72 hours of his life might suddenly make sense. He really was adorable.

“Don’t worry,” she beamed at him, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on his shoulder, right above where Dick’s arm was still curled around it like a warm blanket - albeit one with the tensile hold of a python. “They’re all crazy, but only in the good ways.”

Duke scoffed as he slipped ahead of them and started taking the stairs two at a time. “It’s funny how you say that like you’re some kind of exception to the rule.”

“Bold words, little brother,” Cass called after him. He only shouted back from the top in a booming voice, his words echoing down the narrow stone stairway dramatically.

“Am I not Batclan?”

“Oooh, is that a new thing we’re doing?” Dick asked excitedly. “Somebody catch me up, I demand context. I smell a story there.”

“It was Jason’s fault,” Tim said automatically. Dick nodded.

“Sure, that tracks. Continue.”

Bruce trailed after his brood of batlings and birdlets, sidling over to where Barbara was waiting for the elevator. The latter having hung back to watch the commotion with the air of one taking notes for repurposing in the form of future blackmail material. Her ever extending network of spies and informants made so much more sense, suddenly.

He cleared his throat while they listened to the hum of the elevator’s machinery as it descended to their level.

“I wasn’t really thinking of adopting the boy,” he said. Not at all sullenly, nor with a trace of defensiveness to be found.

“Of course you weren’t, Bruce,” Barbara said. She patted his arm fondly, with all the conviction of a kindergarten teacher whose student was attempting to claim innocence on the matter of a paint disaster perfectly matching the paint stains on his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Bruce muttered as she preceded him into the elevator. 

Why did nobody ever believe him?

[theliterateape]

The Pigeon Was Named Falcor

by Don Hall

The romantic version of the grifter is that of Patricia Highsmith’s Tom Ripley — cool, collected, methodical. Less romantic is the image of the Welfare Mom, grifting social services with kids she couldn’t pay for anyway. If the true grifter is a compound of the majority, an averaging of the totality of those creating believable fictions to take things for themselves, he looks a lot like Leon.

Over the radio, just as I’m finishing reconciling the $89,000.00 that replenishes one of the casino’s ATM kiosks, a security officer calls me to the east parking lot. “We have a guest who has fallen down.”

We have guests who fall down frequently. Most are like Mike, an older gambler who, after sitting at the bar playing video Blackjack and drinking bourbon shots and Bud Light for five hours, stumbles to the ATM and collapses a few feet from the bar. Once a woman tripped on the curb and came up with a huge knot just above her right eye and then proceeded to milk the place for everything from free food to free drinks to a four and a half hour (failed) attempt to get a free hotel room.

There was the hotel guest who kept “falling down” in his room in an effort to get upgraded to a better room for free until I walked to his room, inspected it, and explained that if he kept falling down in the room, he’d find falling down at the Motel 6 more accommodating.

Leon, on the other hand, was something different.

I walked outside and there he was sprawled out on the sidewalk. He was a white guy, maybe 30 years old, with tattoos creeping up his neck and onto his face. He was wearing a beaten up ball cap, an expensive black face mask under his nose, and his jeans were slid down his ass exposing his Hanes boxer briefs. Leon was on his side, moaning and mumbling that he was shot.

Next to him was a woman who had seen more than her fair share of desert life in Vegas. Her face was leathery, she was missing a front tooth, and her hair was a wirey mass just floating above her thoroughly lined forehead.

“Donchu die on me! Yer strong! If you die I’ll kill you!” she barked and then laughed at her own joke with a whiskey-soaked cackle that evoked the opening scenes of Shakespeare’s MacBeth.

The security officer, Scott, was asking him then her if he had ID. None. “It was stole like fucking everything they take from the homeless,” she rattled. Scott asked how she knew him. Turned out she met him in the casino, bought him some drinks but never caught his name.

“My name is Leon! I’ve been shot!” Leon stirred enough to declare this bit of intel before going back into his semi-comatose state on the pavement.

Scott noticed Leon’s right hand was tucked into his shirt, a dirty denim-ish thing with a frayed collar over a grimy tee-shirt. He became uncomfortable. Ever since the pandemic hit, plenty of reckless assholes have travelled to Vegas from California sporting illegally obtained pistols and have commenced to shooting the place up.

“I need you to remove your hand from your shirt, please. Slowly.” Scott’s right hand was gently resting on his own pistol as Leon slowly pulled out...a pigeon. 

It looked taxidermized and Leon gently placed it next to a bush on a raised area just to his left. I looked at the bird. It seemed to be inert. It was weird but no weirder than anything else I’d seen in this parking lot. Scott continued to question Leon, the Barfly continued to pretend that she knew him longer than an hour, and I kept looking at the fucking bird.

Despite the lack of a bullet wound or blood or even the extreme pain one would be in should he be shot, the 911 call indicated a possible gunshot wound so the entourage arriving included a fire truck, an EMT vehicle, and four Las Vegas police SUVs. It was as if Leon was an elected official with all the attendant institutional concern accompanying his safety.

As the firemen were looking into Leon, Scott nudged me in a conspiratorial way. “The bird is alive!” he whispered. I looked again, closely. Sure enough, this traumatized pigeon was breathing shallow bird breaths but still hadn’t moved so much as a millimeter from where Leon placed him. Now things were creeping right up there on the “What the Fuck?” Scale.

As soon as the cops showed, the Barfly split up Tropicana on her way to “I Don’t Need This Shit” and the EMTs gingerly asked him where he was in pain. They asked if they could turn him over but he didn’t want to. “I’m shot! My leg’s broke! Take me to the hospital!”

“Wait a minute,” intoned one of the firemen. “Weren’t you in the Burger King parking lot last night?”

“No. Not me.”

“Listen. We’re here to help you but you need to be straight with me. Was that you last night?”

Leon slowly turned face up and growled. “I told you I was suicidal and you wouldn’t take me to the hospital!”

“Are you still suicidal?”

“No. I’m shot!”

“You are definitely not shot.”

“You gonna take me to the hospital? I think I got COVID or something.”

The collective moment of “Aha!” spread across the faces of men and women employed to keep the peace, to enforce laws, and deal with people calling 911 because their cable isn’t working. 

In 1904, O. Henry published a short story entitled “The Cop and The Anthem” about a grifter named Soapy who, in order to get to sleep in a warm bed in a jail cell, swindles a restaurant into serving him an expensive meal, vandalizing the plate-glass window of a luxury shop, repeating his eatery exploit at a humble diner, sexually harassing a young woman, pretending to be publicly intoxicated, and stealing another man's umbrella. None of his games result in the desired outcome, so he gives up the quest.

He is then arrested for loitering and gets a three-month stay in Blackwell Island. Three hots and a cot, rent free.

Leon is just another version of Soapy, seeking a night in a bed and some free food at the expense of the state. I’m certain none of the attending service professionals, mulling around Leon as he stood up, his leg miraculously unshot and unbroken, have read the story but I’m likewise certain they’d each recognize the truth in the fiction.

As the EMTs strap him into the gurney, one cop pops off “Leon. You forgetting your pigeon?”

“He’s a falcon. His name is Falcor. He’ll wait for me.”

True to his word, Falcor perched there unmoving after the EMTs took Leon to his faux hotel for the night. Some four hours later, I took a snapshot of the bird and the graveyard manager confirmed it was there until early the next morning.

The next afternoon for some inexplicable reason, I checked to see if the pigeon was still waiting or dead.

Falcor, like the Barfly and Leon, was gone.

[psychic101]

How to Improve Your Psychic Abilities

A SERIES OF ANONYMOUS ASKS SENT TO ME: 

“Hi! I was wondering if I'm psychic, sometimes I just know things are about to happen but it's always just a few minutes in advance. I'd love to train my psychic abilities (if I even have them), is there a way to do that? Sorry if I sound offensive, that's not my point. Have a great day!“

---Anon 1

“How do I get in touch with my higher self and my spirit guides?”

---Anon 2

“Last summer I had a psychic reading for the first time that was really accurate. She told me I had some psychic abilities. It was weird to hear out loud but it wasn't shocking. I was just wondering if you have any advice for someone who doesn't know where to start?”

---Anon 3

“ever since I was younger little glimpses of situations would pop up into my head, and then they would happen, days, weeks, months later. I've always wanted to keep track of things that I "envision" and then check them off once they happen, but it's difficult because I can't tell the difference between these "visions" and my plain imagination! how do you get better at recognizing the difference and honing this talent?”

--- Anon 4

Hiya. So, I'm super confused cause I think I'm psychic (more clairaudient) and I've experienced most of the signs like hearing people daying my name in an empty room and all that but I'm not sure. Was hoping you could give me some help? Or suggestions on what to do?

--- Anon 5

As you Can see--- The Advice on a how to improve one’s psychic ability and how to recognize it is a very popular question among anons.  Rather than replying the same thing in several different posts, I am going to post it all right here.  

WHERE TO START: 

Many of you probably see me say this repeatedly each time-- Work on building a positive environment-- the environment inside you and around you.  This is very important.  When you start “Opening Up” (Awakening your Psychic Abilities), you will start exposing yourself to many different things-- thoughts, feelings/emotions, awareness of positive and negative energy, and with some people it happens slowly, but others it happens all at once.  That’s why you need to be careful.  When you start Opening Up, you emit this “Light” (nobody can see it but spirits), but it will attract many people-- people of this plane and Spirits.  If you are surrounded by negative energies while opening up, you will most likely attract negative people and negative spirits.  This will not be healthy for you and your development at all.  It might even cause you to Close It (deactivating your abilities), and depending if you scare/traumatize yourself, it make take up even years to Open back up.  It’s very important to work on your: Self Esteem, Self Confidence, and Healthy Lifestyle/Positive Energy first before attempting to open up your abilities.  If you struggle with this: compliment yourself everyday, acknowledge your talents and skills and good parts, and forgive any mistakes and flaws you may have (mistakes are things you learn from, flaws is what makes you human-- an interesting, wonderful human).   I promise you, you will make your life so much easier if you start here at square one first.  Don’t rush anything, and make sure you do it for yourself and not the sake of getting “magic powers”--- with an attitude like that, it will be a temporary fix that won’t work out.

SPIRITUALITY: 

Spirituality is also important to work on as well.  It helps you get in touch with the energy of/and the Other Side and the World around you.  It helps makes that connection stronger.  You can do this by religious practices or things related to your faith--- whether you’re overall general Spiritual, Christian, Wiccan, Pagan, Muslim, ect.  If lighting candles and praying helps you with your spirituality, then that’s fine.  If sitting in your backyard at night meditating helps you with your spirituality, then that’s works, too.  If just contemplating the wonders of the world while you burn incenses helps you, then that’s fine.  Practice with Tarot Cards and Pendulums/Crystals/ect helps--- great!  Everyone has their own different way that works, and that’s fine.  Find what works best for you.  

As you do all of this--- it’s very important that you talk and listen (listening even more so).  When I say Talk, you don’t have to talk out loud, of course.  Talking in your head works fine, too.  But make sure you don’t focus too much on yourself though--- this is when you need to take a moment and just really sit and listen.  Listening isn’t always in the traditional sense as how we hear things.  Yes, some people might hear things, like voices or ringings, but it can also include: seeing things (visual appearances “physically” or in your mind’s eye, visions, symbols, dreams, ect), feeling things (touch sensations, emotions, ect.), and just knowing things (knowing true facts that nobody tells you but you just seem to know it for some reason).  Try to listen and understand what it means to you.  Researching things to help understand things is okay to do--- just understand that what you read up on might not be 100% accurate.  This is because how we receive information can depend on the individual.  For example: the symbol of a bird in flight might mean good fortune to someone, but it could be a symbol of danger to another.  It depends on what things mean to you and the feelings you get from it. 

Another important way to increase your spirituality is focus on how to improve when you’re feeling negative things.  If you feel anger but you don’t take care of it or handle it correctly, or you get angry simply at the drop of a hat and you just explode--- that’s not good.  Same thing with sadness or jealousy.  Work no trying to see the bigger picture and the bright side, and focus on what you should really try to put your energy into.  This ties into the, “Work on YOU” aspect mentioned above.  This is because these feelings may block your psychic abilities, confuse them and make everything bias.  You wouldn’t be able to tell if you’re actually picking up something from the Other Side, or if you’re just having your own personal thoughts and feelings.  When you’re starting out, I promise you, it will be extremely difficult to tell the difference.

With your Spirit Guides/Guardians, be sure to talk to them as often as you can, and listen to them as much as you can!  They are always around you, and they’re always listening and trying to help you.   When you grow spiritually, talking to them becomes much easier to do.

PRACTICE

It’s important to practice using your psychic abilities a lot for a long time before you try anything serious with them.  A few things you can do is play a few games: 

CARD GUESSING GAME:  Have a Normal Deck of cards.  Shuffle them (no peeking) and place them face down (you can either just spread them across a suffice, scattered, or keep them in a deck).  Pick a Single Card Up and try to “see” what kind of card it might be.  You Can guess any which way you want: Guess if it’s Black or Red, what kind of Suit it Is, what Number it may be, a combination of the few, or try to guess all the specifics of the card.  Don’t rush and take your time.  No peeking.  If you get it wrong--- that’s just fine.  That’s normal.  That’s the whole point of practicing.  Eventually you will get better at it.   Keep in mind:  Depending on how you are, you will either visualize, hear, feel, or just know the answer (or a combination of all).  Everyone’s different.  Pay attention to see which way you lean towards.

SHAPE AND COLOR:  This is a mind guessing game that involves two people (which if you have a trusted person, please practice this-- it’s a good practice).  Have that person guess a Shape and a color.  Have them both say it in their head and picture it in their mind (it’s important that they do both-- not everyone is visual, and not everyone is auditory.  Until you figure out which way you lean towards, have them do both for you in their mind).   Then guess the shape and/or color!   Keep trying and trying!  Practice makes perfect. 

JOURNALING: Sometimes people have dreams with messages in them, or they see colors they don’t quite understand yet, or feelings, hearing, or they want to predict the future, ect.  Keep a journal and record EVERYTHING. 

 Record your dreams right away--- describe everything you saw, how each thing made you feel, record any words (doesn’t have to be full sentences or phrases if you don’t remember) that you can recall, record colors if you can, all of it.  Do this with every dream, that way you can start comparing dreams with each other-- you will eventually be able to tell which dreams are psychic and which dreams are just your own mind’s creation.  Eventually, too, you’ll be able to work on interpenetrating the meaning. 

If you want to practice on predicting the future, here’s how a journal can help you by recording!  First thing in the Morning, take time to predict what will happen tomorrow (try not to go further than that).  Record EVERYTHING that you feel or think or hear will happen--- big or little things.  The reason why you don’t record today/that day is because you don’t want to create a subconscious bias where you go out and fulfill what you think would happen.  It’s harder to control tomorrow because you don’t quite know what will exactly happen (which is great for psychic practice).  When that Tomorrow Comes, record what ACTUALLY happens.  Take note of what you got right, wrong, or came close to knowing.  Then repeat!  Make sure you write the entry date (not the date that you’re trying to predict).

Recording Auras works, too.  Record when you see them, what color they were, where they were coming from, and the feelings or thoughts you got from them!  Be sure to focus on the shade.  Don’t just write, “Red.”  Write what shade of red--- Strawberry Red, Light Red, Dark Red, Maroon, ect.  The specific, the better.  This will help you understand what you see!

Recording what you See, Hear, and Know, ect. is very important to do, too.  Spiritual encounters and conversations are important.  Just Remember:  Try not to get scared if you do.  People are naturally scared of the unknown--- and let’s be real, talking to spirits and having them respond is pretty freaky when you’re new to it, it takes time getting used to.  If you get scared though, it might set you back, having your body naturally react by “Blocking It” (meaning weakening your psychic abilities to where you don’t receive anything) as a way of protection.  Remember:  SPIRITS CAN’T HURT YOU.  They can’t hurt you, they can’t possess you (you can talk for them, and get very in touch with their thoughts, energy, ect. to where you repeat them--- but they do NOT enter your mind and body).  Spirits, without their physical form, can’t hurt you--- they can try to scare you, the bad ones, but they can’t lay a finger on you.  Most spirits, however, are nice and are just curious that you can communicate with them!

As For Getting in touch with your Spirit Guides--- Just talk to them!  In your mind and out loud!  Whatever helps you.  If you don’t know their names, that’s fine!  I promise you, they’re ALWAYS around and listening.  Make sure you listen to them, too!  Eventually this will become a lot more natural for you.

TESTING/RESPONSIBILITY 

Sometimes people ask how you can tell if you’re really psychic, if you’re really picking up things or if you’re just making things up from your own mind--- here’s the thing... it’s hard to tell when you’re new.   Sometimes, being new to this, you can’t even tell.  Eventually you’ll be able to tell the difference--- but that’s why I say you need to practice.

You have to TEST yourself.  Test to see how correct you are, and how often you’re correct. The best way to be sure is just simply putting it to the test.  See if the things you see or hear are actually going to happen.  This takes years of practice, everyone.  This isn’t something that happens over night or in the span of just a few months.  If this is something you really want to get into, you have to be dedicated to it if you’re going to use it.

Honestly, that is why I say practice a LOT before you do anything big with your abilities.  You can practice among friends and family--- just let them know you’re still learning and practicing.  But until you’re completely confident in your abilities, and you feel that you have a great understanding of them and how they work, be careful how you use them and who for and for what.  

As someone who has done readings for many people over the years-- even in my early teen years and up-- I’ve taken on some heavy topics to try and help people.  That’s honestly how I got to have the pretty good track recorded for my accuracy-- I had to be as accurate as I could because sometimes people’s lives were on the line.  If you guys can take it slow--- take it slow.  If would be really upsetting for you to take something big that you’re not ready for--- something important and you get it wrong (or maybe you don’t get it all wrong, but you interpreted wrong).  Some day you’ll be able to help people with the big stuff if you want, but not until you know for sure you’re ready.  

Also, if you work on your psychic abilities so you can just know gossip or for arrogance, I promise you--- The Other Side will shut you down right away (they won’t share anything with you).  If you want to become Psychic, you become Psychic for the right reasons.  The reason why people are Psychic is so we can become better people and help others--- it helps us give us a better understanding.  It helps teach us not to be mean to others, or if we’re in a desperate situation, it helps us know that we’re going to be okay no matter what, and we can use it to hep get ourselves out of it (which my big sister and I have done before-- using your abilities to help yourself isn’t selfish, sometimes it’s self care).  For other people, we help share the info that they don’t know yet-- that they’re on a wonderful life journey to grow as a person.  With being psychic, we have a better understanding of the other people around us, and we can help other people to understand each other.  We help work on morality and ethics with ourselves and those around us.  

Of course, don’t just go out trying to save everyone you can.  You don’t need to wear a cape--- not everyone’s meant to be a Helper, and the last thing you should do is develop a “Savior” attitude.  And don’t be arrogant either--- I’ve seen so many people try to develop being psychic and they start talking like, “Look at these ignorant mortals.  They do not understand the infinite of the universe like I do.  I pity them.  Only I can understand---” blah blah blah, it’s really irritating.  I’m just trying to get at is being Psychic is a Gift, so please use it for all the right reasons and intentions. 

SELF CARE

The final thing I want to talk about is that if you’re going to work on being psychic, it’s important to focus on your self care as a psychic.  Don’t be surprised that you’re drained of energy for out of nowhere.  You’re expending energy by being Psychic and using your abilities--- or you’re picking up on other’s energy and that drains you.  

If you’re feeling drained, allow yourself only a few hours to a day or two to recover (isolation, being lazy, friends, ect.--- whatever you may do).  After that, you need to get back out there in the world.  You need to stay productive no matter how tired you are.  Trust me--- as someone who doesn’t know how to Block or anything whenever I want, being a constant state of “Recovering” isn’t healthy.  Being lazy for too long isn’t healthy. You have to force yourself to use your energy.  Try to have your own energy not get drained by making yours “louder” than others.  

One of the Advice I got when I was little (and even now) whenever I get anxiety from going outside is to do this:  Envision a White/Pink (or some other relaxing Color) of Bright Light around you--- an aura--- and layer the bubble as much as you need to.  Do this as often as you can before you walk out and interact with the world when you feel overwhelmed.  This is an Aura Shield, and it helps.  Asking your Spirit Guardians and Guides to help keep the shield up is something that you can do, too, if you struggle.  Help them protect you and keep you relaxed.

Another thing is-- again, don’t develop a “Savior” attitude.  You can’t help everyone.  Everyone in life needs to help themselves.  You need to help yourself.  If you’re putting your own health at risk, you need to back off and take a break.

If you find that practicing psychic things and growing psychically is causing you stress and anxiety and nervousness, go ahead and take a break from it.  It’s okay.  I promise you, forcing yourself through will only backfire on you.  Just make sure you don’t hide out from the world though.  And make sure you talk about your feelings if you can about this stuff--- to any trusted person or to a journal or your Spirit Guardians/Guide.  

I hope this helps!!  Let me know if you have more questions or need clarification!

[autumn-in-phandom]

“Did Dan get TOO TAN?”

(Sept 19th 2017 Dan liveshow timestamps)  

0:03 After an awkward pause and salute: “Hello cyber friends” (instant regret and reflection)

0:29 (Dear god, don’t grab your laptop by the screen like that Dan.)

0:44 Grimace #1

1:06 No Dan, you do not look *atol* different. That tweet, title and pic are all just clickbait.

1:10 (Bronze my ass.)

1:19 Hitting us with that meme.

1:25 (Didn’t need to be in your face thanks. Teasing angles?)

1:36 “Never say Trumpy ever again, in any circumstance.”

1:45 Lovely pores and freckles.

2:00 Obviously everyone subscribes to YouTubers for their freckle content.

2:30 Livestreams are “a mistake” because of the chat clinging on to one thing and spamming it.

2:40 No probing or questioning at airport, big grin.

3:01 “The broadband is terrible but the 4G is great.” Okay…

3:17 “The toasty Dan experience”, orangish filter.

3:26 Double rhyme: “I guess that’s a rhyme, yeah that’s fine” (okay it’s a slant rhyme)

3:47 “Buttered crumpet Daniel.”

4:02 “Went to an island in the Mediterranean.” (This is exactly the answer I expected and quite frankly the only one he should give.)

4:09 “Literally did nothing for about six days, it was great.”

4:15 ‘I am Pilgrim’ book recommended by his mum.

4:30 Tricked into reading 900 page book.

5:00 Holiday was incredibly relaxing.

5:10 “Ordeal” getting there, delayed flight, three hours “traumatizing”

5:22 “Haha long boye” “literally, shins driving into my chest, bleeding” alright hyperbolic humor Dan. “Tough.”

5:38 “Violated” on flight by guy’s elbows, “no respect for personal space”, “fully leaning into me”, “didn’t even care”, “honestly an icon for all of us.” (Was it Phil?)

6:03 3 am, old driver, mini bus, cliff roads, did pre-ritual preparing for death.

7:00 “So much yogurt”, doesn’t know why.

7:05 “Assaggetti” tweet, we can shame him, “has the worst sense of humor in the world”, check it out and unsubscribe, doesn’t remember the language (Italian), apologizes, “constantly problematic”.

7:55 “Got that D from the S up above” (vitamin D, or Phil…)

8:16 Phil came on the holiday in case anyone didn’t know.

8:18 “He went from like glass to pale ivory, which is good”, “Phil is someome who erupts in freckles whenever he goes outside, so it’s hard to tell if he tans or if your eyes are just kinda like drawing the dots between the space all the freckles are, if you know what I’m saying.” (Wow, I… I’d like to think you mean what I know, but I’m not sure. Wow.)

8:37 Someone in the chat: “Nice Ursa Major on that cheek boy”. Turn, pose, laugh.

8:41 “The Bigger Dipper of my self esteem.”

8:53 Good day: watched Bake Off and answered emails, “thrilling”.

9:13 Tumblr likes, fan art, “beautiful to celebrate the great people.”

9:43 “The internet is not here”, laughs, sighs, apologizes.

9:55 Some peer pressure advice.

10:25 Had to check what his video title is.

10:35 I don’t know why he bothers to ask if we watched either.

10:55 Accept that he does things by his British calendar.

11:11 Why he didn’t he talk about uni stories when it was happening. Ashamed? Yeah, processing turmoil at the time.

11:55 Now shares traumatizing, terrifying, shameful, embarrassing stories straight away.

12:15 Rowing club guy AU… (not what I was thinking)

12:46 Laundry story: Phil was nice, Dan didn’t ask, *literally* ordered a cab, turned up with suitcase, Phil assumed he dropped out and was moving in, “I’ve had a day and I’m going to wash my socks in your washing machine.”

13:13 “If you struggle to function as a person-” (I really wish he had finished this sentence)

13:15 Asda sponsor for crying in the cheese aisle?

13:23 Pasta burn shaming (were you just never in the kitchen with your mum Dan?)

13:36 Dropping laptop so much recently.

14:00 Never taught cooking, laundry, accounting.

14:18 “No one told me shit!” (in Dan’s face again).

14:33 “What happens when I’m 23?! How do I do a tax?!”

14:54 It was ravioli (pretty sure the instructions mentioned water Dan…)

15:15 Thick as in stupid, not thicc fat booty.

15:30 “Look Fatima, we all have different life experiences, okay?” (lol)

15:36 “Ravioli ravioli, give me the death I deserveioli.” Relates.

15:45 Rihanna livestream, forehead fetishist? Wouldn’t mind if anyone leaves for that.  

16:08 Not up on BTS, DNA.

16:33 Shames Eden for “let me see that pastussy” comment, “leave.”

16:45 “Love on the Brain”. He really loves Rihanna, amazing, blessing, doesn’t give a shit, casual, informal, etc. “Bitch Better Have My Money.”

17:25 Is sure BTS video with be “pure and beautiful”, expects “softly applied eyeshadow and very fluffy hair”, he’s sure he’ll enjoy.

17:38 Maybe new gaming video/livestream tomorrow.

17:45 Overcooked, ironic kitchen fire, foreshadowing.

18:08 Wasn’t sure if he should get into Chinese guy story again, but he has to.

18:13 Deep breath: “It was 4 am, I’d been you know, well hydrated that evening, but I decided I needed another drink” go into the kitchen, everyone else was asleep, guy had a whole chicken, with neck and feet, fine but surprising, tiniest pair of white y-fronts, hacked head off and made eye contact, just couldn’t, usually would awaken some kink in him…

19:39 Pool pic, shout out to friend, no consent, relaxing, absorbing sun like a lizard, *basking*, fell asleep, lucky it was a pool and he didn’t drift out to sea, sun stroke vid reference, “the bad tan”.

21:08 People saying “trying to be cute”, the double chins (really?!)

21:21 The least Dan-like photo.

21:33 Thought it would ruin his Instagram aesthetic.

22:10 Lack of other content: relaxing, reading,

22:24 Took a couple other photos, sunset selfie, “no one’s going to take a photo of me” (what the hell happened to your personal photographer?) but then people came (please post, please!)

23:40 Bake off is his life, “Noel Feilding is a national treasure”, caramel was torture while hungry, faves are Liam and not!Val (what did he whisper about Liam? Really wanted him to be…?)

24:30 *Maybe* Halloween Baking, they don’t think that far ahead about anything.

24:48 Phil’s role in Dan’s video, mugging scene took nine takes, afraid to punch him. Outtakes please!

26:03 (grimace #2) “Hello Grandma, my name is Daniel, I’m a wholesome person, that’s a very great influence”

26:16 Wachowski films

26:23 Dan floating in donut plushies would be very challenging.

26:33 Dan flips a bit at the idea that’s it’s weird to like people who don’t know who you are. Uses Ed Sheeran as example.

26:55 Scrolls past person who said they feel better when they have a dream about Dan and Phil.

27:17 Cared more about YouTube than university socializing and class, Pom Bear Massacre reference, made Tumblr account.

29:09 Chapped lips, season changed the moment he stepped off the plane.

29:42 “Okay Universe, I know I can be a bit of a downer, sometimes.”

29:51 Haley Barry Storm powers

30:08 Yes the furry blanket comes out, polyester, sad pimp, Marks & Spencer.

31:06 Ready for everything seasonal, autumnal Yankee Candle range, not haute, but fun themes.

31:31 Frisbee laptop across the room on to the bed, missed.

31:46 Candle haul, yes it is content we need right now!

32:26 Furry invasion on Splatoon, scaley, yiffing proposition, “this is a family game”, not shaming just concerned for kids, though it is hentai-esque…

33:27 Sonic: 2010 reminiscing, formatting of boxes.

34:04 Was stupid side kick, Phil being good, Dan trying to be helpful, actual just a cheerleader, Phil was disgusting, doesn’t know if Phil even knew what he was saying (of course he did).

34:38 Didn’t know uni vid was trending

34:52 Reflection (I think that’s the piano nook)

35:00 Weird because of swearing, someone at YT didn’t watch the vid, “Ah, keep doing that, don’t watch my videos, just know that I’m a good person…”

35:25 “I make great friendly content.” (grimace #3)

35:30 Explains why trending isn’t automatic. Yes, think of the children.

36:05 “But hey, I’m not bad, everything’s fine”.

36:45 “People of all genders do and don’t wear makeup”.

37:10 (I’m pretty sure that the no candles with birds is because of the fumes.)

37:25 What is with the nose touching when confirming Spooky Week? “Next video (nose touch) soon, don’t worry”…?

38:28 “Fans of everything are annoying, that’s just what happens when people are enthusiastic about stuff.”

39:19 Dan doesn’t get annoyed by different fandoms. Says more about the people being annoyed, part of their own insecurity, their lack of community, togetherness, celebration, shared experiences, jealous or sad, or maybe everyone just everyone’s annoying.

39:56 Dream Daddy: so dangerous saying Dilddy. Dan likes Damien, great taste, immaculate presentation, probably not Dilddy’s romantic soulmate.

40:31 Dan is in like ten fandoms (makes a face).

40:45 Chat: “Will Phil become a furry, what’s your fursona?” Dan: “Is it time to go?”

40:55 Has never thought about it, promises he’ll get on it soon, he knows what the internet wants from him.

41:31 Chat full of fursona suggestions. He’s going to start crying.

41:52 “A llama fucking hell.” “Look at the time.”

42:01 Going to go into a (not disturbing) hole later looking into axoltl fur suits.

42:24 Elf on a shelf meme, was going to post a Dan one, “old meme!” (Still don’t need to be up in your face Daniel.)

43:27 Really wants to go see IT, needs to see Mother.

44:04 Shut up! American Horror Story, makes him happy. Loves Sarah Paulson (is his life), feels represented by a lesbian with anxiety. Evan Peters is great, looks gross, or great depending.

45:25 His fursona should be a big bear, I agree. What a reaction.

45:46 Left comb on holiday, looks like a bush.

46:13 (grimace #4 at group chat names.)

46:20 “What is wrong with all of you?”

46:22 Glosses over diet ask. Indeed.

46:26 “Don’t call me Uncle Dan when we’re talking about fursonas.”

46:36 “If you live in Australia vote for marriage equality, we don’t need to have this conversation.” “Come on, come on Australia, sort your shit out.”

47:03 Going to “innocently Google things that are fine”.

47:22 “Me and Phil would love to come to Russia”.

47:27 Limitations of TATINOF.

47:44 Watch uni vid: “Don’t take it too seriously. Remember that most of the time I’m just trying to be funny, and if you ever want like my real feelings or opinions, just think about whatever the opposite of what I’m saying is, and that’s usually how to get to the sincere heart of whatever Dan’s talking about.”

48:13 “Stay calm, ask some senpais for some life advice and think carefully about what your fursona should be.”

[grapehyasynth]

AOS Rewatch, Part 7

This is a bit of a long one....

1x16

There are more hints here about Garrett... Deathlok receives a message “Don’t say I never gave you anything” and Garrett recently said something like that to someone.

Who was the Brit who was sending messages to Amador? Do we ever learn that? Garrett is not British...

lol Fitzsimmons’s responses to ‘have they exhibited any strange behavior?’: “No more than usual” and “strange is such a subjective word”

Tripp never seemed to like Ward -- he’s got good taste

Fitz is playing with the drawers like he played with stuff NUMEROUS TIMES in S3 while talking to Jemma

but who WOULD be the Watson in their relationship?

Fitz sad/peeved she’ll “leave me all on my lonesome”

At this point it’s still very unclear to me/the audience how Jemma feels about Tripp

It’s funny that none of the other characters in TAC gear interest me, just Fitz

Why does Coulson not wear TAC gear tho.....

Fitz: “I prefer high-tech hardware” instead of toy -- is that what he calls his sex toys too? (I’m the WORST)

Ward is so. full. of. shit.

“Don’t use my name, Jemma” lololol worst spies ever

Coulson’s father’s death was a defining moment -- but it’s never mentioned again after this...

Omg Coulson almost had it right, asking Ward if someone ordered him to kill Nash -- and then he just doesn’t follow it up

Fitz’s cute little scared face when May comes in while he’s snooping

I’m also devastated by knowing Fitz is constantly feeling betrayed by people

May obviously didn’t check the lab very thoroughly if baby Fitz was able to evade her that easily

Also omg I’m so devastated by Fitz’s twitch and his face when May shoots the glass lab doors right by his face

I’m really sad Coulson believes ill of May so quickly. Like, really? After all you’ve been through?

1x17

I’m going to be stressed and concerned the entire rest of this season

But also this episode is so good

Oh god Fitz looks so devastated when he realizes Jemma’s at the Hub

I’m so glad Weaver isn’t Hydra

May assembled the team -- because of course she is, she’s a boss badass

Shouldn’t May also know and understand why Coulson has to be suspicious of her? She acts like it’s so out of left field but if she were in his position she’d need to suspect her team as well

I love love love love love the Hand/Jemma/Tripp loyalty test scene

Fitz shooting a guard with great accuracy, even leaning a little around someone else to do it -- I’M SO CONFUSED BY THESE FEELINGS

I love that Jemma is willing to stand up to authority when she really believes in it

The age and power difference between Skyeward is SO GROSS and I will never think otherwise

I love that Fitz is worried about Jemma but still won’t consider unethical methods of reaching her

I’ve always enjoyed the way Garrett is outed, with Coulson catching his little slip

Sitwell was Hydra -- bet everyone’s glad Jemma shot him

“No John, this is you being a psychopath”

God Fitz’s tearful courage in the face of Garrett’s threat remains one of the most beautiful Fitz moments in the whole damn series

Was that Fitz’s first kill? I’ve lost track of when he’s used ICERs and when not

THE FITZSIMMONS RUN AND HUG <3

Funny that no one suspected Tripp and Ward despite both having been proteges of Garrett 

1x18

Ward broke into a SHIELD prison and killed a bunch of people but no internal cameras caught him to alert SHIELD outside the Fridge to his presence?

I still don’t understand where the British English words in Amador’s instructions came from

It’s somehow strange seeing Fitz assure Jemma, not the other way around

First Talbot appearance!

I love the walk and talks because of how often they show up in bloopers

Coulson trusts Ward but not Tripp? Hmm.

Okay now the whole Fitz/Simmons/Tripp triangle is being made more clear to the audience.

So Garrett says he planned to eliminate Skye? This is confusing because her being injured helped lead him to GH and more answers about Coulson’s recovery, but either the show can’t decide on his motives or Garrett can’t.

Fucking Grant Ward: “I’m everyone’s type” lol bye

“Simmons got choked up” when she had to turn her badge in MY BABY

Coulson was just out of high school when Fury recruited him

Jemma’s all shy around Tripp. I don’t like it. I like when she’s crushing on someone and is flirty and outgoing and makes a fool of herself lol. (Though to be fair, she’s pretty shy and careful around Fitz when they first get serious, but they’ve got a lot more riding on it)

Ward explaining himself to Raina is really annoying talky exposition

lol Fitz is so snippy with Tripp

Everyone lookin’ cute in their non-SHIELD-issue winter hats

Jemma is afraid of bears. (And birds, as we’ll learn.)

Hydra is keeping Gravitonium in their underground base? That is setup for a MASSIVE workplace accidenct

1x19

the steal-your-light guy’s last name is Daniels so I’m going to headcanon that he was related to Will and the whole family is rotten because even if Will Daniels was in theory a good guy he is a plot device that was NOT NECESSARY and caused me and my children SO MUCH PAIN

The way “Garrett” sounds in Iain’s accent is divine. Like, say all the r’s please, Iain. (Damn my name has no r’s in it. Will change my name immediately.)

I hate seeing Fitzsimmons care for Ward

Tripp knowing things Fitz thought were reserved for the more ‘intellectual’ types like him and Simmons -- it’s the first threat to Fitz’s intelligence, which as we see in Season 2 is the thing that gives him his confidence

May literally called Hydra’s tactic and Coulson just ignored her. Great time to become a terrible tactician and leader, Phil.

I like that while others look nervous about the lie detector test, Fitzsimmons just look impressed.

I love Fitz’s little smile when he says “just me and my mum”

I could swoon over all of the FS polygraph results but you already know they’re the cutest/funniest things ever.

Though to focus on one: Jemma says she’s not entirely sure why she’s still with SHIELD. Fitz, meanwhile, says he wants to be with people he knows and trusts.

I wish Koenig had just shot Ward during the test

Fitz saying Tripp is a “horrible person” lol. Also, this is the first episode it’s fully canon-acknowledged that he likes Jemma and isn’t just platonically jealous she’s spending time with Tripp.

Fitz and Coulson are hit by Darkforce but are totally fine...convenient...

Patton Oswalt and Amy Acker are for sure some of the best guest actors this show has had

Ward is being so obvious, like way too friendly. How did no one notice he was acting strangely?

May is truly the hero we deserve

“Our best agents are watching” -- Jemma includes Fitz in her list of best agents <3

Coulson trusts Bruce Banner’s tech more than Fitz’s :(

I hate the intimate Ward/Skye moments. So gross

God I love Fitz and I’m so so so so sad he didn’t get a non-traumatic chance to love Jemma

Marcus Daniels didn’t see it was a trap when the cellist was just playing by herself with no audience??

I’m always gonna be proud of Skye for gaming Ward for so long

I can’t watch Skye’s bathroom freakout without thinking of the blooper where she accidentally opens the trash can

Coulson knows Fitzsimmons are about to have a chat and gives them space for it

JUST TELL HER FITZ *CRIES FOR A FEW MORE SEASONS*

Agent May’s mom lives in Pennsylvania (or at least has a car registered there). I want to know SO MUCH about her mom’s backstory.

1x20

Domestic Fitzsimmons with pancakesssss

Poor Fitz discovering Skye’s message. Definitely one of the best-acted reactions.

Jemma’s so clinical, but she’s also so obviously furious with Ward.

Jemma is so practiced at comforting Fitz with his physical, angry reaction -- I expect that’s something he learned from his father. But he stops as soon as Jemma is near, because he’d never hurt her. (AND NOW I’M CRYING)

Tripp calls Fitz a tech “ninja” (#tripplives #gonetoosoon)

lol May digging in the cemetery

I love Skye for calling Ward out for being a Nazi. This show should do more of that.

How many planes is Coulson gonna sneak onto for kamikaze missions?

Why doesn’t anyone shoot Mike in the head? Like obviously I want him to live but they don’t know he’s savable and that’s clearly his most vulnerable spot

MASSIVE product placement for Nokia, Marriot, Ritz-Carlton. Like, SHAMEFULLY obvious

Fitzsimmons at the pool I CRY

Coulson looks out at them while he’s talking to Maria Hill -- he can’t imagine setting them adrift from the team

Fitz would rather not believe some people are evil, Jemma believes some people just inherently are -- oh my how their views will change in coming scenes

The fact that no one dates Tripp is a TRAVESTY

People keep telling Ward he doesn’t owe Garrett anything and he disagrees, and it’s all set-up for the next episode where we get the whole backstory, but honestly that episode didn’t change my feelings towards Ward at all. More on that next time.