#like if you told me that rabbit dabbled in being a he/they I would not be surprised

[thepandalion]

was anyone gonna inform me that jax checks all the gender boxes or was I supposed to just watch the first episode of the amazing digital circus and learn that the hard way

[goodnightmemes]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS (PART ONE)

episodes: s01e01 - s01e04

❛ There are stories out there that need to be told. ❜

❛ Mortality beats a heavy drum. ❜

❛ Things didn't end well the last time, so forgive me if I'm a little nervous. ❜

❛ Do you not know your value? Do you suffer these indignities for some larger purpose? ❜

❛ Let the tale seduce you. Just as I was seduced. ❜

❛ Stop! Don't do that shit here! ❜

❛ Dishonesty breeds dishonesty. ❜

❛ It ain't easy, the work I do. Nothing but broken souls around me, and the ones that ain't broke are greedy. ❜

❛ The Earth's a savage garden. ❜

❛ How do you do that? Get in my head like that. ❜

❛ I had no room for feelings like these in my life. ❜

❛ I have seen death over and over and over and over again. It's boring. ❜

❛ Easy prey for the discerning predator. ❜

❛ And rather than fix it like a man should, I run like a coward. I run to the bottle. I run to the grift. I run to bad beds. ❜

❛ I laid down with the Devil. And he has roots in me, all his spindly roots in me, and I can't think nothin' anymore but his voice and his words! ❜

❛ I'm not the Devil. You were wrong about that. But I can give you death. ❜

❛ What rage you must feel as you choke on your sorrow. ❜

❛ I can swap this life of shame, swap it out for a dark gift and a power you can't begin to imagine. You just have to ask me for it. ❜

❛ For the first time in my life, I was seen. ❜

❛ Be my companion. Be all the beautiful things you are, and be them without apology. For all eternity. ❜

❛ Memory is a monster. We forget, it doesn't. ❜

❛ We live off the blood of the living. Lap up the blood of the deceased and it'll suck you right down into death, along with your victim. ❜

❛ You have the power to subdue anyone you want, but sometimes restraint is your most powerful weapon. ❜

❛ This is your home now. ❜

❛ The sun gives life to everything but us. ❜

❛ The life of a vampire has its challenges and its rewards... ❜

❛ Do you contemplate the life of the rabbit before you cut it? Or do you simply cut?❜

❛ These are nightmares I'm having, not dreams. ❜

❛ One might think the ability to read a mind a most useful gift, but, in reality, it's quite mundane. ❜

❛ Every human thought boils down to three things..."I want food", "I want sex", "I want to go home". ❜

❛ You chase after phantoms of your former self. I'll break you of it. ❜

❛ You hide from me this long again, I'll hunt you down and slap you sideways. ❜

❛ I had powers now and decades of rage to process, and it was both random and unfortunate, the man picked that night to dabble in fuckery. ❜

❛ You are a library of confusion. ❜

❛ I don't like sleeping angry. ❜

❛ For the record, if disrespect was done to you, I would have killed him myself. ❜

❛ If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them. ❜

❛ I ain't never gon' have a family of my own, am I? No sons, no daughters. ❜

❛ I'm your family. ❜

❛ I've been neglectful of our romance. ❜

❛ He was my murderer, my mentor, my lover, and my maker… all of those things at once. ❜

❛ There is one thing about being a vampire that I most fear above all else... and that is loneliness. You can't imagine the emptiness, a void stretching out for decades at a time. ❜

❛ We must stay together and take precaution and never part. ❜

❛ Well, I don't say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer! ❜

❛ Come now, love, let's get you to the couch to die. ❜

❛ If you'd listen to me, if you finally submit to your nature, you will be filled, with all the life you can hold. ❜

❛ You will see death in all its beauty, life as it is only known at the very point of the death. You alone, of all creatures, can see death with that impunity. ❜

❛ You alone, under the rising moon, can strike like the hand of God. ❜

❛ Do you ever think that we, that's to say, our kind...were put on Earth for a larger purpose? ❜

❛ I put you on this earth. Your purpose is to enjoy yourself. ❜

❛ I desire blood as much as you do. But I wonder, should we be more selective? ❜

❛ Hunting is pure instinct. Reason is a set of leg irons. ❜

❛ Every one of them is capable of abomination, even the ones worthy of admiration. ❜

❛ Don't mind the shaking. I've snapped his spine. It's merely his nerves spasming. ❜

❛ I don't wanna kill people anymore. ❜

❛ So much of that year was a blur. And you can imagine what time's inevitable hammer does to the minute details. ❜

❛ This is the odyssey of recollection. ❜

❛ Oh, come now. I don't bite. ❜

❛ Aren't I enough? ❜

❛ We'll be together ten thousand nights, a hundred thousand.  ❜

❛ What we're doing is hard. Anything that wards off the dungs of the everlasting road we walk. ❜

❛ There. I said it. We're communicating so much better now, no? ❜

❛ You ever think about those old days when we were kids? ❜

❛ You wanna come around, you come around when people are awake. ❜

❛ Well, I thought we could have an orgy. You can fuck them, and I can eat them. ❜

❛ What can I say? I'm a lot. I'm not perfect. ❜

❛ I heard your hearts dancing! ❜

❛ You watched the whole thing like some creeper! ❜

❛ This is not a life! ❜

❛ Am I from the Devil? Is my very nature that of the Devil? ❜

❛ Take a black man in America, make him a vampire, fuck with that vampire, and see what comes of it. ❜

❛ You're here to threaten me, I suppose. ❜

❛ Why is your heart beatin' so fast? ❜

❛ Did you not smile when he begged? Did you not feel pleasure as you carved him up? ❜

❛ You did what you did because it gave you pleasure. ❜

❛ We should make this our anniversary. ❜

❛ That's why you and me ain't never gon' work. That's why you're always gonna be alone. ❜

❛ You were ready to abandon our home. Now you want a third. ❜

❛ I'm not human no more, am I? ❜

❛ I'll teach you, but not if we're going to have family secrets. ❜

❛ We're a family? ❜

❛ You're not a girl. You're a devil. ❜

❛ Hungry? You just ate a man twice your size. You can't possibly be… ❜

❛ I'm so hungry. I think I'm gon' die. Is that how vampires die? From starvation? ❜

❛ If you made me and you made [name], who made you? ❜

❛ When I'm tired, I'm not so kind. ❜

❛ Fighting sounds funny in French. ❜

❛ A girl vampire needs her own space if she's gonna find herself in this no-day world. ❜

❛ He got secrets. He don't give good answers to questions, sits on the truth like it's his chair or somethin'. ❜

❛ I thought we weren't supposed to keep secrets. ❜

❛ Sometimes, old people don't like talkin' much about the past. ❜

❛ For a killing machine, I kinda like her. ❜

❛ You wouldn't believe how time flies when there's people to eat and money to spend. ❜

❛ We do like mortals do. We fight, we eat, we laugh, we sleep, we love. ❜

❛ Never seen a dead one look so peaceful. You know what her last words were? ❜

❛ Wakes were invented in places where it snows. ❜

❛ You've been too sheltered, my belladonnic beauty. ❜

❛ You must be most ferocious, hmm? ❜

❛ There's something back there, something evil. ❜

❛ Yeah, I'm surprised your fancy parents let you out at night. ❜

❛ I finally got a few secrets of my own. ❜

❛ You're an angel. ❜

❛ This is why we never get close to mortals. Because sooner or later, they end up dead. ❜

❛ I had a daughter. ❜

❛ That means there's so much more fun out there to have. I'm just getting started.❜

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

so happy to be with you.

18+

Masterlist

The next few days flew by in a flash. Now that you had chip Tyler in your life, and now that you had chip tailor in your bed. There really wasn't anything else that you wanted to do with your life. 

You found yourself calling in sick to work more and more often. You had always heard about addiction, but you never knew that you could be addicted to sex this way. But truly, you didn't care at this point what was going to happen to you with your job. All you wanted was to spend your time with Chip. 

All of your time with Chip. You couldn't help but be a little bit curious though, about the man that was in your bed, the man that was making you feel so incredibly good day in and day out. So much so that you were almost willing to lose your job just to stay in bed with him.  it really wasn't your place to dabble in his business.

But maybe Chip wouldn't mind telling you about his life. I mean, if you ask and he doesn't want to answer, all he has to do is say he doesn't want to tell you, you'd understand. Would you really want to ruin a good thing? 

Chip notices this puzzled look on your face and asks you if you are OK. 

"Oh yeah, I was just thinking, you know"

" about what?" He asked you with a smile on his face as he tightened his grip around your body.  

"You know, we've been going at each other like a couple of rabbits for the past week and. We don't really know that much about each other. Wouldn't you like to know something about me?" You asked him, shifting in his arms, slightly uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable with his arms around you, but uncomfortable with the current conversation.

"Well, sure, but I didn't want to ask you anything that was going to make you uncomfortable, but I don't mind telling you anything you want to know. What would you like to know?" He asked, moving around the bed a little bit so that he could slide up and have his back against the headboard. While he holds you and engages in conversation.

"Well, like, where are you from? What's your favorite color? How many girlfriends have you had? Is this something that you do on the regular? You know, pick up women, have sex with them for a while and then just throw them away? I don't want that to be what we do. I want to be able to keep you, to know that when I come home, you're going to be here. I'd like to be domestic. You know, I like to give domestic a chance and Try to Cook. Maybe not always Having Bernard make everything for me, be able to. Come home, put on a little apron and make you dinner. I think it'll be fun to be domestic for a little while."

Chip would be lying if he told you that the idea of you coming home putting on an apron to make him dinner didn't seem like the sweetest and hottest thing in the world. I mean, here you're talking about being domestic for him and wanting to make a life with him, and all he can think about is ripping the apron off of you and taking you on the dining room table.

 "Are you OK?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Oh, yes, yes, I'm just. Thinking about how wonderful that life would be, I never really had anyone to cook for me. But. Life with you shouldn't just be about you cooking for me and taking care of me. It should be about something that makes both of us happy."

"Well, I have to say, sex with you makes me very happy." You told him with a giggle as you rubbed your hand up and down his tone stomach.

"Really?". He asked you with raised eyebrows. "Well, it makes me very happy to. I never really felt." He stopped short of finishing the sentence. Tears clearly starting to form in his eyes. 

At this moment you weren't really sure if you should intrude on his current thoughts or just let him be. But you decided letting him be was not going to be the thing that you did this morning. 

"Are you OK?" You asked, moving your hand from his stomach to his chest. 

"My life wasn't happy before you, I have to say. No one ever wanted to cook for me or take care of me in any way. My ex-girlfriends They were awful. they never really loved me."

"Never really loved you?. How could somebody not love you? You're so amazing and sweet and kind and amazing in bed. Any woman would be so incredibly lucky to have you. Believe me, I feel incredibly lucky to have you. And I would never, ever hurt you. Chip, please know that I will never hurt you. I will love you forever. Hell, as I said, I'm willing to try to be domestic for you. I mean, like, actually cook something."

"i know and i love the whole Idea of that Probably a little bit more than I should. I mean, should I really be so turned on by the thought of coming home and having you making me dinner and come home from where I don't even have a job? I don't know what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life."

"Well, I can help you with that. There's always stuff breaking at the hotel, and they don't really have a handyman per se. So maybe you could be our handyman. I could put in a good word for you. Do you know how to fix things? I mean, I already know that you're good with your hands, but can you fix things? You know, little things around the hotel. Like clean the pool, clean the pool filter, stuff like that."

" You could do that for me. You could get me a job at the hotel, like a real job. This app had jobs before but. Uh, you know, cleaning a slime out of a pool wouldn't be that much of A stretch from jobs that I've had in the past."

" OK then, it's settled. Tomorrow or whenever I can pull myself out of bed now, out of your clutches, I will put in a word for you until my manager, that my sexy boyfriend, who will They bring in customers needs a job."

" You think I'm sexy?" He asked with a slightly high pitched voice.

So incredibly cute because obviously you think he's the sexiest man you've ever seen in your life. Which you can appreciate how Chip is so sweet and doesn't see himself as such. There's nothing worse than it, conceded Man, you think as you shift in his arms. So happy to be in bed with this man.

"Yes, I believe that you are incredibly sexy. And women will definitely come in to see you. I mean, even if they don't stay, you know, maybe get a drink by the pool or something."

"Great. So how should I repay you for getting me a job?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

"Oh. I'm pretty sure I can think of a way for you to thank me." In an instant. The two of you were tangled, mess of limbs all over again. You're pretty sure at this point that it was going to take a while for you to get him a job, given the fact that you couldn't even leave the bed. 

Next day you managed to get yourself out of bed. And ask your boss If your boyfriend could have a job. Thankfully, your boss agreed, since you were right, you did need someone to fix things around the hotel.

Chip was so happy to have a job. Even though he had $68,000, well, a little bit less now. He knew that that wouldn't last forever. On this first day on the job. He changed the pool filter. And fix the ice machine. Other than that. He pretty much was just hanging around looking pretty.

But most importantly, he was hanging around making you wet. So much so that when you had your break, you know exactly how you were going to spend it. In the utility closet with chip deep inside of you.

"Are you sure we should be doing this at your job?" He asked is he was thrusting in and out of you. Acting like he had absolutely no problem whatsoever with the current events.

"Well. Probably not, but. If I get fired, I can't think of a better way. To go out."

" You mean other than going out with the bang?" He smiled. Chuckling slightly as he thrusted once more. At this point, you know that he was going slow intentionally. But it's OK. As long as he was inside of you, that's all you cared about. You made no attempts whatsoever to hide your moans of pleasure. And believe me, Chip didn't want you to hide them.

"i'm so happy to be here with you" he whispered in your ear. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hello! If this prompt is to your liking - something along the Ladyhawke plot? Basically, during the day LWJ is turned into an animal while WWX is human, and in the night returns to human but then WWX is turned into an animal :) Or, for simplicity’s sake, I‘d just like to see LWJ turned into a bunny XD attempting to communicate with WWX who is oblivious, as you’d expect. Thank you! Your writing is amazing and I’m so pleased to read it always.

The f‎irst thing Wei Wuxian was aware of in his new life, before he ever recalled his name or recovered his cultivation, was the feeling of safety and security that came from being held in the palms of two hands, strong but soft.

Wei Wuxian had been the last and smallest of a too-large litter, causing his mother to bare her teeth at him and chase him away no matter how pitifully he cried. By the laws of nature, he should have died, unloved, but even before he remembered his past deeds he was never one to be bound by those laws. He was lucky: the soft hands came for him then, lifting him high off the ground, letting him shiver against a warm breast and even faithfully feeding him milk from a hollow reed every time he was hungry.

After some time, the haze of infancy cleared from his eyes and, for the first time, the soft hands offered him a leaf instead of milk. It was a good leaf, too. Crunchy and firm, unmarred by any insect bites and still wet from the morning dew.

Wei Wuxian gnawed on it, quite content, and reached up with his left hindleg to lazily scratch at his long floppy ear. For a rabbit, this was the very definition‎ of paradise.

Not bad at all, he thought to himself, quite smug, and not for the first time considered himself rather lucky in comparison to his stronger brothers and sisters, who were probably being taught to forage even now. They might have a mother, but Wei Wuxian has a pair of soft hands framed by long, sweeping white sleeves, and he thought that he did quite well out the bargain.

With such thoughts, he was naturally reluctant to be left behind. He followed those hands on their daily rounds, hopping‎ down dabbled forest pathways made of stone and painstakingly climbing steps to sit in cold rooms that smelt of sandalwood while the soft hands plucked at the strings of a guqin. He wouldn't hold himself back, either: he would nuzzle a kneeling thigh or try to clamber onto the man's belly to sleep, and he was never rejected. Even when he couldn't keep up, he shamelessly cried until the hands came and gathered him up close, letting him rest his sable head against the stark white robes and listen to the comforting sound of a strong heartbeat.

All things considered, Wei Wuxian was quite pleased with his life, a state of affairs that lasted right up until the first time the hands wrapped up the guqin in a white cloth, drew an ice-pale sword from its sheath and took to the air, leaving Wei Wuxian behind, abandoned and bereft.

Obviously, this was absolutely intolerable.

Wei Wuxian settled himself down on the bed and began loudly crying. Other pairs of hands, smaller ones that sometimes brought treats, sought to comfort him‎, but he remained steadfast in his misery, lying prone on his side and weeping until he fell asleep and then waking up and starting all over again.

"He missed you a lot," the white-clad ‎child murmured anxiously to the soft hands when they return a few endless days later. "He wouldn't even eat - I even tried offering him some of the pickled cabbage he's always stealing from your table, but he wouldn't take it. Forgive me, Hanguang-Jun -"

"Forgiven."

Something about that voice echoed in his mind as familiar, but Wei Wuxian was distracted by picking himself up and throwing himself at his pair of soft hands at once, unable to hold a grudge and act indifferent the way he'd schemed he would, taking a mighty leap that did not even begin to trouble his pillar of stability though it did make the child giggle.

"I told you he missed you!"

"En."

The soft hands caressed Wei Wuxian quietly, then - as if familiar with the pain of separation, the torture of longing for what is not there - did not put him down. Instead, they brought close a dish of leaves and grasses for him to eat while still pressed up close to that broad chest, his ears full of that strong heartbeat that showed he was still alive, warmed by the bright golden core within.

Wei Wuxian, as always, forgot his woes, and was happy.

He was full, he was warm, tucked in safely into the collar of long white robes embroidered with clouds‎, and he could think of nothing at all that might disturb his joy.

That state of affairs lasted for about an hour, until another voice, also familiar but less so, said, "I am pleased that you have returned safely, Wangji."

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, startled out of his planned nap.

Wangji? Lan Wangji - Lan-er-gongzi - Lan Zhan -

White robes, like mourning; clouds, to signify the main family; soft hands, a gentle voice, upright manner, the guqin -

His soft hands were Lan Wangji!

‎Wei Wuxian remembered, suddenly, all of his past life of toil and hardship - his carefree youth at Yunmeng, his brief time at the Cloud Recesses, his wide broad road turning narrow and dark -

He dismissed the latter part as unimportant.

"It seems your pet rabbit had also missed you," Lan Xichen, now recognizable, added, his voice slightly mischievous in a way that was familiar as well.

"En," Lan Wangji replied, calm as ever.

Wei Wuxian began cackling at once, little huffing rabbit sounds.

Who would think, he thought to himself gleefully as he raised up his head to take a look, that Lan Wangji, of all people, would break the rules of his sect to adopt ‎-

To adopt -

A rabbit.

A rabbit!

He was a rabbit! Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying, Yiling Patriarch, demonic cultivator -

He was the rabbit Lan Wangji had broken his sect's rules to adopt!

Wei Wuxian's head lolled back, stunned into a daze that did not abate even when Lan Wangji gently caressed his small head with his soft hands.

Of course Lan Wangji would adopt a demonic cultivator rabbit, he thought. That would just be his luck, breaking his precious rules for me of all people. But what did I do wrong to be reborn as an animal?

Well, actually, he'd done rather a few things wrong, come to think about it. And even if he was a rabbit, he'd had the best possible‎ life as one - he barely had to twitch his nose for a half dozen Lan disciples, not to mention the great Hanguang-jun himself, to scurry over to tend to his every need, so clearly the heavens weren’t intending on punishing him that badly.

Not to mention, he ‎seemed to still have his spiritual awareness - something of a new development, in fact, as he'd only noticed Lan Wangji's golden core for the first time today.

Of course, that didn't really matter. What use was spiritual awareness to a rabbit? All it meant was that he was now a yao, capable of cultivating and, if he turned evil, to be a target for a night hunt led by righteous cultivators.

He'd had quite enough of tha‎t in his last lifetime, thank you.

No, there was no benefit, except maybe the possibility of one day cultivating enough to form a beast core and transform into a human being -

Hm.

"Are you sure you will head out again so soon?" Lan Xichen asked. "You are still barely recovered from your injuries; for you to go out alone could be dangerous -"

Wait, what? Lan Wangji? Injured? Alone?

Absolutely unacceptable!

Clearly Wei Wuxian was going to need to get on that yao cultivation business sooner rather than later. Someone needed to take care of Lan Wangji, if he wasn’t willing to do it himself – and why not him?

After all, Lan Wangji was his pet human.

[wild-houseplant]

Hello Plant!!! I found a moment and would like to pose a few questions from the OTP asks. For Rhodri and Zevran:

5. Describe their cozy night in.

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

And/or

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

Please feel free to pick the ones you like and to take as long as you'd like ^^ Lovely even temperatures to you and a spectacular day! And give Rhodri and Zevran all my love ^^

Hello my excellent and superb friend :3 I really appreciate you sending me the ask!! I am greedy and will choose them all, and as I rabbit on and on and on I will be steadily wishing you a very long sequence of perfect days and excellent temperatures.

And, of course, Rhod and Zev send their best love to you. Please keep half an eye on your nearest window; I'm told they had a bit of a shopping spree, as is their wont, and gifts are coming your way in untold quantities. I hid my own presents for you in there too, though, so as to bum off their postage. One must get one's money's worth, don't you think?

Under the cut, you know the score. The curse of the waffler! ok but I kid you not, I went all-out on this one. It's seriously long.

5. Describe their cozy night in.

This will be a lengthy answer, my spiffing friend, as there are headcanons galore in here. I humbly offer my condolences and sincere appreciation for your manifold patience! :D

my tl;dr for this is that they might sit and do their own thing together (Zevran will read, play the mandolin and/or sing, cook, and draw; Rhodri will read and enjoy his singing); dancing is also a thing, and Rhodri starts getting a mite... how would you call it... dumping the affection (sfw).

A cosy night in means they've got time alone, because the Callistus-Amell family usually spend evenings together at every possible opportunity, so it'd mean the parents and siblings all have prior engagements.

Not that they're not a cosy bunch, per se. There's plenty of contentment to be had, but they'll often be pretty involved in some activity or another that you couldn't call cosy. Stuff like dancing, taking in a show, attending a gala, paying visits to friends or vice-versa... probably the closest thing they get to cosy would be sitting and chatting-- and lord knows Aurelio and Revka just won't shut up. Factor in the boisterous twins Mazarin and Evander, plus the quieter but still involved Owen and Bethann, and now also Rhodri and Zevran, and the bastards will stay up until all hours. They don't go to bed until the beloved housekeeper politely but firmly shooes them out around daybreak.

One particular thing I think they'd love, if they wanted something really low-key, would be to just sit together and do their own thing.

I think Zevran in particular would really enjoy this avenue because up to now, he's never really had the opportunity to pursue his interests. The Crows were awful, physically and mentally, about people doing what made them happy, and it’s a forbidden pleasure he now-- tentatively-- relishes. He could turn his hand to anything but I can see him being a voracious reader if given the chance. He also seems to dabble a lot in arty things (tattoo artistry, dance, the mandolin, etc.), which is frankly perfect since the Callistus-Amell bunch are great patrons of the arts, both in Tevinter and Kirkwall.

So now, with an entire library, more comfy chairs than you can shake a packet of peanuts at, and basically anything else his heart desires, Zevvo can park himself beside/on/against Rhodri and devour a pile of books, or practice the mandolin or some other instrument, do some sketching... gosh, he could do whatever he pleased. To actually have the means to pursue what he enjoys, and to actually have that encouraged by Rhodri and the family means more to him than he can find the words for. Better still, it’s not only encouraged but modelled by the rest of the family, and so he treasures the times where he and Rhod can sit together and feed their interests, and share them without fear of something awful coming from the other.

Also, not to be ridiculous, but I hc that he has a very pleasant singing voice- somewhere between baritone and tenor, I can't quite decide, but absolutely splendid vibrato either way- and if he's in the mood to have Rhodri rocking them hard enough to tip the chair over backwards, he'll take the ol' vocal cords out for a spin. Happens more often than we’d think.

As for Rhodri, she's usually reading or writing. Creative outlets done by someone's own hand are limited for Tevinter Altus. The HC here is that the Altus place such high value on convenience that they hire other people to do just about everything for them. It's a lot of work to learn to play an instrument well, or draw well, or act, or anything really. Dancing and maybe designing their own outfits would be about the limit. Maybe crafting stupendous insults to whip out in the Magisterium. Nothing beyond that, though. In practice, this means that if they want something arty, they'll hire someone for that. A singer, an artist, an actor. It's small change for them. If they’re good at it themselves, it’s by sheer miracle.

(It's been that way for ages; many Vints are under the impression that it's the same in other countries. To this day, Rhodri's father Aurelio is convinced that her mother Revka, who is a classically-trained singer, was naturally born with a beautiful voice. He has often taken umbrage to accusations (in Revka's absence, of course) that this is untrue, and swears on his own grave that his wife has never taken a music lesson in her life. Revka has no idea he is under this impression. It's gorgeous oblivion.)

They might dance!

Both of them are great on their feet and love to tear up the dance floor. The Antivan dancing style tends to be a little lacking in modesty compared to the Tevinter approach (think bachata vs. zouk, respectively), which means it's best kept for home. Better for if they're feeling energetic.

Zevran could get seized by a Fast and Ridiculous Mood. Or Rhodri could.

As it says on the tin. What usually happens is one of them ponders something absurd (e.g. 'how hard would it be to recreate a raincloud indoors?' 'will a stack of 250 pancakes weigh more than me?'). Really weird shit, and they ponder it aloud. The other one hears it and gets a wild look in their eye, and next minute you've got the love child of Jackass and Mythbusters unfolding as they get to the bottom of it.

Massage and Tevinter gestures of appreciation (SFW)

Rhod's nowhere near as good at massage as Zevran- at least initially, but has anyone else ever offered him so much as a back rub? Not on your life. She's not awful at it, just amateurish, but Zevran enjoys it all the same. Sometimes he can persuade Rhodri to let him give her one, even though it's "not his job" to do something nice for his stupid wife. Rhodri is a damned fool. Usually if he explains it's for teaching purposes, or to keep his skills current, she's much more amenable. Both are true, and they're the more palatable truths.

Rhodri's also very hung up on showing Zevran that they are equals and that she doesn't consider herself above him in any way. This is especially the case once they're back in Tevinter and it becomes quite clear that she could, in theory, exercise a lot of unfair power over him.

With that in mind, in comes my last headcanon for this question: in Tevinter and Antiva, and parts of Rivain, the feet were once-- and in some contexts still are-- considered a dirty part of the body. Kissing or washing someone's feet are the most significant displays of deference, reverence, and respect in all three nations. Unfortunately, most of the time it's done by slaves who are forced to show submission to their masters, and it's often done in public.

Now, I hope it goes without saying that Rhodri would rather display things like reverence and respect to Zev through everyday behaviour- actually asking for his opinion before reaching a decision together; doing her best to give him whatever reasonable thing he wants; checking in on him; fixing his problems wherever she can and looking ahead to anticipate what he might need, often at cost (often small, but) to her energy and time for herself. Things that actually have an impact on your life, and are petty much what her father would expect of his heir.

But these things are what she considers to be displays of genuine care for someone’s wellbeing, and tender as they might be to onlookers, she doesn’t attach too much emotional significance to them. Certainly she does them lovingly, and out of love, but also out of moral obligations. She performs them almost reflexively, because she has spent her whole life doing it and doesn’t know any different. The result of this is that they come at minimal emotional cost to her.

At the complete opposite end of this, for Rhodri at least, is feet-washing. Showing your love is one thing; showing the extent of it is quite another. There’s no practical reason to wash Zevran’s feet; he is a fastidiously clean man, and his feet are rarely dirty, especially indoors. The only real purpose to being sat down as someone gets on their knees and tenderly washes your clean feet in fragrant water is a symbolic one. And culturally speaking, a Magister kissing or washing the feet of anyone is unheard of, except perhaps for their parents, or the Archon. Her doing it to him is just bananas by Vint standards. Actually, to an outsider it's probably closer to embarrassing because it's so implausible as to seem gauche, if not outright mockery.

But Rhodri does mean it. She’s completely, deadly serious every single time, because as far as she’s concerned, this is the most truthful (and emotionally costly) way of conveying to Zevvo how highly she thinks of him and treasures him, and how she sees herself in relation to him. Rhod’s not given to talking about her emotions. Her father didn’t allow it with anyone but him, and she finds words to be frustratingly inadequate. (In fact, she was extremely distressed about one of the last letters she sent to Zevran while they were apart; he had asked her if she missed him and she considered her response woefully understated, and upon their reunion in Kirkwall, bypassed greetings and kissed his feet in front of a very astonished Fenris, Isabela, Varric, and Cousin Tank).

So in practice, expressing the depth of this particularly strong one, even to Zevran, is like offering herself up on a platter.  Especially in her case, because in her heart of hearts, she’s such a proud person, and painfully aware that whatever she does could easily be interpreted as hyperbole. In Kinloch Hold, she was roundly mocked for her rather jarring honesty (among other things), and the embarrassment of having something as tender and privately valued as the depth of her affections being mistaken for dramatics, well. I think it would be more than she could stand, and she’d never do it again. But hey, it was explained to Zevran the first time, gravely and in a very soft, embarrassed voice, and the importance was understood immediately.

And better still, Zevran relishes it. He wasn’t sure what he’d think of it at first, since it’s a rather unexpected gesture (by his standards). But yanno, Rhodri’s ‘moral obligation’ loving gestures shocked and awkward-ed the hell out of him for an entire year, and he ended up feeding off them, so. By the time his shoes were off he was convinced, and the bugger swan-dived into the affection like a hog into the trough. He sees the change that comes over her whenever they do it, and since he’s the one usually doing the opening-up emotionally, it feels good to be on the other end for a whole host of reasons. He’s encouraging and appreciative in that gentle way he has, and so she keeps offering.

Anyway, on a night in, she'll probably ask to wash his feet at the end of the evening, and he’ll accept with alacrity. The added bonus of this, of course, is that Tevinter nights are often quite warm. Even without all the humble-adoring-devoted symbolism shit, cool water on the feet before bed is the Good Stuff.

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

Oh, it's resolved pretty quick for Zevvo. Though Rhod's not as good of a healer as her younger twin siblings, she's a dab hand at anaesthesia- both in the sense of taking away pain and sedation. Zevran's never out of sorts for too long with her to hand, and once Mazarin and Evander bustle in with some foul-tasting cure-all, the matter is resolved before the hour's out. If it takes longer, Rhodri appoints herself as both his nurse and his doctor, and keeps a close eye on him. Most of his issues are chronic, and they have detailed plans from top healers on how to manage them, so she's quick to leap into action and get him as comfy as soon as she can.

Rhod's not so good at being unwell, unfortunately. Not on her own. There are a lot of things that make her uncomfortable in everyday life. Loud noises, certain fabrics, tight shoes, weird temperatures... it's all go in Autism Land. Usually, the way illness manifests in her is that her skin aches. Just a full-body oversensitivity. Light touches are especially painful; clothes or skin glancing over skin are agony. She can't get comfortable; it's always at the forefront of her mind, and it's so distracting that she can't always puzzle out what the bloody problem is before a meltdown is imminent.

Zevran, bless him, only needed to witness this once; now he can spot it from a mile away. Once she starts trying to straitjacket herself with her robes, or she flinches when he touches her, he'll let her know his suspicion that she's not well and she'll arrange for the healer. Even knowing why she's uncomfortable helps, but sparing her pride by letting her sort it out herself is a kindness that she appreciates so much. He'll help out if the pain is stopping her from getting it done, or get her father to do it, but most of the time that's not necessary. Smart feller, that Zevvo.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

Somewhat unsure, I tried to ask Rhodri what she'd do for Zevran, and she flat-out refused to participate. As far as she's concerned, it's not an appropriate thing to do when elves are commodified for their looks and have had very little agency over their bodies in general. On top of that, in the event her outfit selection deviated from any of Zevran’s own personal style preferences, she would be horrified if he started doing that thing just to please her. She wasn’t having a bar of Zevran’s gentle reassurances that that wouldn’t happen if she didn’t want it to. If we can put that all aside and delve into her reptile brain, though, where such notions float around unformed and certainly unsaid, she'd probably kit him out in the flowy Antivan shirts he's fond of, in the very finest silks. Complements his shoulders, and better still if it’s tucked in to show off his waistline. The shirt's probably in a jewel colour- purple is my first guess. Tan breeches made of top-notch Antivan leather, and boots of the same, rounded off with an embossed leather belt. Jewellery, especially gold and with precious stones, would be worn generously- possibly more than Zevran would usually wear. (Rhod's got the most awful weak spot for seeing him wear finery that he enjoys, and sometimes she does just take it a little further than necessary). Fingers, toes, ears, neck, wrists-- a nose ring, if he fancies... hell, if he’ll let someone weave filigree gold chain into his braids, it’ll be done.

Zevran has absolutely no problem with kitting Rhodri out for the day, mostly because he knows she wouldn't wear anything she didn't want to, so if he chose something out of the ordinary and she wanted to wear it to please him, it'd have to please her as well. (he sighs and quietly wishes she'd feel the same in regard to him, but what can one do?)

That said, what he’d want choose for her outfit isn’t something she tends to wear any more. As a child, she absolutely did, and the rest of her family certainly dress in it now, but her own pair is much simpler than theirs: traditional Tevinter loungewear. He’d kit her out in an exquisite robe made of Imperial vestment cotton, in peacock green, royal blue, or deep red with gold chain detailing around the seams. It’d be a short-ish wraparound robe that came to the hips or mid-thigh paired with matching pants and a pair of soft shoes.

If Rhodri were really willing to humour him, Zevran would go ham accessorising her, too. Earrings, chain finger rings, cuff bracelets, one of those decorative headchains... she wouldn’t look out of place on the front cover of Lonely Planet: Tevinter edition.

42. What’s their favourite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching snowstorms, etc.)

Ahhh, you know what? They’re tropical babies. The year in Ferelden (plus the other twelve in Kinloch Hold for Rhodders), was spent missing the humid afternoon weather. The hot day in both Minrathous and Antiva City builds all through the morning and midday into a swelter, clouds gather, and the air is heavy and exhausting. People who can wangle it will take cover with a cool drink and good company (book or person), or a bed, and spend the next hour enjoying the flash of relief as the rain clears out the humidity and the thunder/lightning gives them something to watch.

Rhodri and Zevran make time to enjoy it together as often as they possibly can, often daily. Usually, especially since she was cured of the Taint, Rhodri’s pretty dozy by this point in the day, and Zevran won’t say no to extra rest either, so they’ll often take the opportunity to sprawl out on a day bed in the observatory or, when the heat’s especially oppressive, outside undercover. Say a few words, knock back a cool drink, and then drift off to sleep. What more could a person want?

[toontails]

Toon Quest|| Reader Insert

Chapter 2: Roadkill

The muffling sound of speaking woke Y/n up from her slumber, as any other morning, the birds their sweet melody. The sun was given the chance to shine through the clouds, it rays lighting up each crevice of Y/n's room. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she still felt the fatigue drag her down into slumber. Her eyelids giving off a burning sensation and...something else. She was sore, causing slight discomfort. Her hands were stinging painfully as well as her torso. Sitting up quickly, Y/n lifted her palms. Looking down she saw two blisters like burns on both of her palms. The palm of the skin was torn, her hands felt almost numb and stiff, looking at the red tissue, Y/n realized it was a people burn. From the lasso that she was holding so tight onto. Last night she didn't feel a thing, most likely because she was worried about a hundred other things and the fact her adrenaline was pumping from fear and being overwhelmed. Lifting her shirt slightly, she peered down at her torso, not much noticeable other than a colored bruise that was forming. 

"I need to be more careful.." She whispered to herself. 

"Y/n!!" Her mother calls her from down stairs. Y/n looked over towards her nightstand. Reaching over to her phone. She picked it up and plucked it from it's charger and looked at the time. 

11:13 AM

She quickly slipped from out of the bed. Thankfully her legs aren't sore to the point she felt like she was walking on stilts. Scurrying over to the bookbag where she passed the book safely. Opening the bag, she saw the book indeed was still safely tucked away. Closing the bag up again, Y/n got up and walked from the room. 

-

Hearing soft laughter from downstairs, Y/n stood at the last step, the staircase led to the corridor to the living room. Where she saw her mother, Bendy and Henry Stein. Henry was standing next to M/n. His hands in his slacks pockets. Dark circles under his eyes, no doubt from the busy work. Bendy stood at the end of the coffee table holding a tissue paper, where he stuffed the tissue paper into the fist of his palm on his other hand. Once the tissue was no longer in sight he opened his palm to reveal nothing, the tissue nowhere to be found. M/n laughed slightly, clapping at the many harmless magic freaks Bendy showed her. 

"I didn't know you could do that." M/n told Bendy. Bendy's smile widened. "Oh, I dabble." 

Y/n noticed that Bendy actually wore clothes this time—not that he really needed to anyway. He still had his white bow tie. What was added was black dress pants and white suspenders. Looking more dapper than he originally looked. 

"Oh! Y/n. Glad you're up, did you pack your bags? You're leaving soon." Y/n's optics flickered away from Bendy and over to her mother. Y/n gave a welcoming smile to Henry, who smiled back as well. 

"I'll pack right now. I should be done in a few minutes." Y/n answered. Her mother nods, leaving her daughter to take care of her business. Y/n started to walk up the stairs, but abruptly stopped before glancing back over at Bendy, who caught hindsight of her. She motioned him to follow her and then, she walked back upstairs. 

-

Scuffling through her dresser, Bendy slowly closed the door behind him as he glanced around momentarily. 

"Where's Panchito and Oswald?" Y/n asked. Bendy turned his gaze over to Y/n, giving her a questioning gaze. Yes. He knew who Panchito was, but was oblivious to the fact the toon rabbit they were with last night was named Oswald. 

"Oswald?" He asked slowly. Y/n looked at him and gave hina questioning expression as well. "Yes. Rabbit, remember?" She raised an eyebrow, and Bendy soon made an expression of realization. 

"Oh him. They're both at the studio. I hid them in the lower section of the building." He said. Y/n nods before taking out the set of clothes and carrying them over to the bed. Placing the clothing on the bed as she then glanced at her palms. 

"I got a rope burn when we were crossing leaping over the street." She showed her palms to Bendy who walked over and gazed down at her hands. 

"There's bandages in the car, we'll bandage you up in there." 

Once hearing that there was a first aid kit in the car, Y/n was relieved to hear that she wouldn't have to sit hours in the car with sore and burning hands. But. After a while of picking out clothes. Grabbing her toothbrush. Wallet, phone and phone charger all in one book bag along with the book. The two set off to finally start their adventure. 

"Where's Henry going? Isn't he driving us back to the studio?" Y/n asked Bendy, she grabbed the book bag and placed it on her shoulders. Bendy looked away from the window and shook his head. 

"Of course not. Him and M/n have a business errand to run with the board, what is it? I don't know, I've heard it's a big thing that a new company is innovating but, he's riding with M/n." He said. Y/n nods, it wasn't rare that Henry and her mother had meetings they constantly had to be to. Changing the topic as she held the straps of her book bag. She grinned at Bendy. 

"You were being put through the ringer last night." She laughed. Thinking back in the punch Bendy received from one of the beagle boys. Bendy froze for a second. His always lasting grin faltering a dipping down for a second. 

"Oh please. You all should be thanking me. I worked under pressure and took the first blow." 

"At this point you're just a walking punching bag. Come on—"

"A walking punching bag? Why I—forget it. Let's go." 

-

"Okay, and remember, indoors at 8PM. Not too late, remember to eat dinner, and don't forget! Take pictures!" M/n pressed a kiss to Y/n's forehead before pulling her into a hug, Y/n returned the gesture before pulling away. Bendy stood in the doorway of the front door, arms behind his back. Walking over to him, M/n waved at her daughter. 

"Bendy, please. Keep her safe and out of trouble." M/n said. Bendy smiled and nodded. "Oh please. I won't let her out of my sights, she'll be as safe as a kitten Mrs. L/n." 

Bendy hooked his arm around Y/n's arm and escorted her out the house, her mother waving the two goodbye with a soft expression. Henry was standing next to her as well, lifting a hand to wave the two goodbye as well. 

"Alright toots, let's roll."

-

Arriving at the studio, Annie—yet again was standing at the receptionist desk, Y/n trailed behind Bendy who walked past Annie, she was too busy talking to some other employee from another department to notice the two. Once making it to a hallway, right in front of an elevator, Bendy pressed the arrow that would take them down into the studio. Which made Y/n wonder. 

"There's a lower section of the studio?" She asked. Bendy looked away from the studio and back to Y/n, which. He soon nods. 

"Yes, that's usually where the head composer of the music stores most of the instruments when not in use in the recording booth. And also other stuff is stored down there, I usually go down there to break something just because." Bendy didn't seem to be bothered at the fact he admitted purposely breaking something—well. Not much of a surprise as he was the definition of a mischievous trouble maker. A small airy laugh came from Y/n before she looked over to the elevator doors that opened with a automatic; 'ding'

The two stepped into the elevator, once in the elevator Bendy yet again pressed a button to the lowest floor of the studio. 

"How did you sneak them in here last night?" Y/n asked. 

"The emergency exit."

"...." Y/n looked at Bendy with furrowed eyebrows. Bendy noticed and his pie cut eyes looked over to her. "What?"

"Me and Panchito came in through the emergency exit and we almost got caught." She said, the memory basically playing vividly in front of her. Bendy lets out a snarky laugh. 

"Tough luck, toots. I can fool basically anyone there is—"

-

"Hey! Watch my horns you vile woman!" Bendy shouts. Alice Angel—another one of the company's loving and famous characters, had her hand on Bendy's hand. And her knee on his back, basically pinning him to a wooden table that was in the hallway—more of a desk that was in front of the elevator where Bendy and Y/n once stood in. But upon reaching the last floor, they were met with two figures in front of the elevator. Alice Angel and Boris. Alice being the one who was mostly on the side of suspiciousness and hostility, which ended with her pinning Bendy to the table. And Boris holding onto Y/n by her book bag. Y/n didn't take much of a chance to try and free herself as she didn't want to appear too much of a bad person as the two thought she was. 

The basement area was much different from how the upper part of the building was. The floors weren't linoleum, instead it was a dusty wooden floor, with various rooms—which seemed to not be in use—but. Her focus wasn't much on the aspect of her surroundings, but more trying to get on the good side of Alice and Boris. 

Alice leaned down next to Bendy's head. 

"Where's your other two friends, huh? You think that stunt you pulled last night got past me and Boris? Sure the others, but I'm positive there were more of you than just the gal' over there." Alice motioned towards Y/n, who was slightly lifted from the ground by her bookbag by Boris. Who mostly had his focus on Bendy. 

Bendy soon made a noise and then gave Alice a betrayed expression. 

"Are you really interrogating me?" He asked, moving his lower body to not cause a strain to his chest that was pressed harshly into the desk. 

"Yes, I am. Maybe I wouldn't be if you weren't so sneaky—I mean. How did you even slip past Henry like that?" Alice scoffed, Bendy made a blank expression for a moment, deep in thought, Alice then turned her gaze to Y/n. 

"You. You're Y/n, right?" She asked. Y/n was debating to really answer her question—was she in trouble? No she couldn't be—she was positive that Boris and Alice were Bendy's friends—-they literally work in the same company and industry. 

"Yes..I am." She replied. Alice then looked back at Bendy. Who had yet to reply. 

"What are you two up to? I wouldn't be so on edge if you came straight forward and told me." She said. Bendy snorted and smiled. "Oh please, toots. You think if we were doing something illegal, I would tell you?"

"Well are you?"

Bendy opened his mouth to speak, but—he seemed to stop himself before closing his mouth slowly. Alice then quickly pushed herself away from Bendy. Placing her fingertips to her mouth in bewilderment, a light and dainty gasp emits from her. 

"Bendy! Stop pulling my leg—are you serious?" She said. Bendy gets up from the table, fixing his bow tie before looking at Alice. Boris finally spoke up, placing Y/n on the ground. 

"And what exactly did you do?" Boris asked. 

"Oh please. I didn't do anything illegal—"

"Hola!" Bendy quickly turned around and was met with Panchito and Oswald. Who managed to track down where the sudden commotion was coming from. Alice gasped at the two new toons. Boris' ears perked up slightly at the two. Oswald looked between Alice and Bendy, knowing the two made a mistake with their sudden appearance. Oswald proceeded to try and grab Panchito's arm to drag him away from the eyes of the two new toons. But. Panchito took sight of Y/n and shot towards her, Y/n wasn't able to respond quick enough when she felt his arms encircled her body, her footsteps becoming unbalanced as Panchito yipped in glee. 

"Ah! Mi cariño,¡Te veo tan mal!" He let her go and quickly took both of her hands. Y/n had a smile on her face at the boisterous and affectionate rooster. A nice feeling came from someone that cared about her with so much passion with little time. It seemed he cared a lot for his friends and the people he surrounded himself with. 

"Wh—wait—who? Bendy!" Alice quickly moves her attention back over to Bendy. Who only gave her a patient expression. Alice motioned around them, as if wanting him to explain all of what was happening. 

"Explain!" 

"Okay! Come on! God!"

-

The 6 stared down at the black leather book that was sitting on a dusted wooden table in the lower area of the studio—where they still resided in. Bendy explained in the exact same sense that the three managed to figure out last night. The reason for the book and the two other toons along with Y/n. Boris had a hand in his hip as he stared down at the book. Alice had her eyebrows furrowed. With Bendy finally telling her all of what was happening, she was no longer hostile or angry like she once was several minutes ago. Oswald had yet to speak. Instead opting to keep his mouth zipped as Bendy was the one to reiterate and retell everything. 

"So...if me and Boris tried to open the book—we wouldn't be able to?" She asked. Within listening to Bendy and hearing the fact the book chose people—specific people—specifically, Y/n, Oswald, Panchito and Bendy.

Alice could only grow curious if she would be a chosen toon—not to mention, a bit jealous that Bendy—out of all toons out there—was one of the chosen. 

"Go ahead. Open it." Bendy had his arms behind his back with a growing grin, Alice cautiously watched him before she placed her fingers on top of the book before picking it up. Y/n could watch at first as she tried to slightly open the book—but surprisingly the book was shut tight. As if it were locked to the teeth. This was her first time seeing the book do something by refusing to open to someone other than her and the three other toons. 

Boris' ears perked up yet again, looking over at Alice as she tried tugging at the book harshly. 

"Gosh—this thing is….locked...tight." She strained her last word as she tried to pull and tug at the book. But to avail or amount of power, did it open. 

"Whoa…"  Y/n whispered to herself...that..was something new and..that confirmed to the fact that she was one of the 12 chosen people for the book. 

"Let me try!" Boris snatched the book from Alice, who yelps in surprisement. Boris tried to open the book as well, but as for Alice, he received the same. It wouldn't open, not a budge. But he didn't seem to stop. Instead he pulled harder and harder.  Alice tried to grab at the book, but Boris moved away from her. 

"Hey! Give it back!" She said. But Boris didn't reply and continued trying to get into the book. Alice seemed to have enough of Boris hogging the book. She turned over and took a wooden plank—that seemed to have been pulled from the floor. Turning back over to Boris. She rose the plank above her head and quickly slammed it down on Boris's head with a loud; WHOMP!

Boris was stiff as a board. Dropping the book onto the floor. His two black pie cut eyes turning into two X's as if the plank killed him! Stars and birds tweeting appeared above his head and he dropped to the ground with 'Thud!' 

Still dazed at the fact he was hit in the head.  Y/n covered her mouth with a gasp—yet a sniffle of laughter—seeing how animated they were in front of her and not on screen was way different. 

"Wasn't able to hit one of the boys with an object in so long—I still got it." Alice quipped, a smile appearing on her face before she reached up and fixed her halo. Bendy walked over and picked up the book that was by Boris' foot. He walked over to Oswald and handed it to him, which Oswald took gracefully. 

"It's not a toy." Bendy told the two...even though Boris seemed unresponsive. Alice huffed. 

"But, why is it picking select people, surely the book has to be a warning for something," Alice said. 

"We're learning as we go. We don't know what it is that's making this book go on a scavenger hunt." Oswald replied. Bendy nods in agreement with Oswald's answer. Alice tapped her elbow with her finger for a moment. Panchito and Y/n stood next to each other silently watching them all speak—well. Now besides Boris. 

"You said some person with a trench coat was after the book, right?" She asked. Oswald seemed to grimace at the mention of the anonymous person. "Yes. Him, he wants the book. Reason why he held me hostage, so I can be his personal key for the book." Oswald said. Alice looked as Oswald, and her optics flickered towards the book momentarily. 

"How did he know you were one of few people to access the book?" She asked. Oswald—surprisingly had an answer for that. Lifting a hand he tapped his chin in deep thought. 

"Well, now that you've mentioned it. I remember overhearing about a witch that he went to to track me down. Or—as he said. Feel my energy in the area, which I could assume that's how he found me." Oswald said. 

"A witch? We have those down here…?" Bendy mumbled under his breath in deep thought. Alice ignored the devil and thought for a moment. 

"Magica." Y/n piped up. Oswald, Alice, Bendy and Panchito looked over to her when she spoke up. 

"The duck, she must be the witch that man spoke to. It wouldn't be too far from wrong—but I wouldn't exactly say I'm right either." Oswald shook his head as Y/n spoke. 

"No, no. Now that you've said something about her, I believe she must be the witch he was talking to. Why else would she and the beagle boys be at the bar last night to get me and stop you and the others." Oswald said. Alice hummed slightly to get everyone's attention. 

"Me and Boris can be in sight while you all are out of town." Alice suggested. Boris had groaned after finally lifting himself from the ground. Rubbing his head from the impact of the wooden board. 

"What for?" Bendy asked. 

"Well, if you all will be out of town. Who knows what would be going on down here. Seeing you all don't have a clue what your objective is it would be best to have others who can keep eyes out for what's going on—and in case you all haven't noticed, tons of news went down in the past week." She looked at the four and then crossed her arms. Bendy didn't really seem too pleased with getting help from Alice but he had to admit..she was right. He rarely cared for anything media wise—political wise—or...damn near anything in that field. 

"No th-"

"She's right, Bendy. Honestly I haven't taken a glance at a TV to see what's going on with the tension between toons and humans in some time, it would be best to have someone have tabs of all what's going on that might be a reason for or a build up for causing this book to wake up." Oswald agreed with Alice. Y/n soon raised her hand slightly. 

"I agree too. I didn't know anything about the book of Vida until I was here yesterday watching the news segment with you. We can't just go into everything blindly. We need to have at least some info." She said. Panchito looked between Oswald and Y/n. 

“No miro las noticias.” He adds.

"Fine. You can collect Intel." Bendy gave in. Alice smiled and nudged Boris. Who still was a bit dazed—but was still listening to the conversation. Alice soon placed her hands behind her back. Boris had squinted his eyes and looked at everyone with a dumbfounded expression. 

"What? What are we talking about?" He asks slowly. But Alice ignored him and continued to talk, clapping her hands together she then shouts. 

"Alright! In case you four are unaware—there is a rising tension between toons and humans." Alice announced. Bendy raised an eyebrow (?) And soon made a gesture with his hand for Alice to continue. 

"Okay? What about it?" He asks.

"That can be a clue. Obviously something is stirring up, causing conflict between both groups," She said. Boris—who had been silent and trying to catch  on to all of what they were talking about, finally understood what the topic was about. Lifting a glove hand slightly, he spoke. 

"Oh yes, that. Toons for some reason are experiencing a lot of episodes, causing them to not only do harm to others, but for themselves." He states. Oswald ears slowly rose and he thumped his foot on the wooden floor, as if he had a thought. Y/n noticed, but she didn't say anything.  Though she couldn't see too many connections, she could sense Oswald knew something. 

"Yes, I've heard about that…" Oswald starts. Bendy didn't seem to understand anything as he only looked at the small group. 

"Recently it seems toons—for the most part, popular toons—ya' know. Actors and actresses haven't been too pleasantly taking things too...uh. Well." Oswald said. Alice nods, before she starts to take over yet again. 

"Recently we know about one case with a toon lashing out on one of her agents out of anger for—as the headline claimed; Not caring for her—whatever that means." Alice placed an index finger on her cheek. Her dark eyes sliding down to the floor in thought. 

"And, for the most part, most confessions and news headlines are pretty much similar. Toon gets angry at a lady for not treating her equally, toons not being able to have a say in their own shows, the list goes on—and we even have some toons committing some crimes such as…" Alice turns her gaze over to Panchito, who was still standing next to Y/n. 

"Robbery." She finishes before continuing. Her eyes looking at the group.

"What I'm saying is, there seems to be a rise of toons wanting more equality causing them to act out maybe from anger and or retaliation. And some for the most part, taking the destructive side of things, which are causing humans to be a bit—overwhelmed?—ah, I wouldn't say that, bu—" Alice was cut off by Bendy who waved his hand and clicked his tongue—as if the topic wasn't something that he cared for. 

"A few angry toons? You think that's the problem?" He asks Alice. Alice pursed her lips for a moment, shaking her head at Bendy's careless reaction to something that could turn into something potentially serious in the future. 

"Bendy, this is serious. It may not seem to be the answer to the reason why that book is on the lookout or search—but it's something to keep an eye out for—for all we know. This might escalate into a scenario where this could be the reason why the book is searching for people to stop this." Alice explains, and Y/n agreed with her. Though there was a good chance the tension between toons and humans isn't the answer to the book, that could be something to keep an eye out for in the future as it could turn into something much more serious and maybe even dangerous. 

Out of all things. No one needs humans and toons fighting each other. 

"She's right Bendy, if humans start seeing toons as a threat, we don't know how this could end or what would happen to toons further down the line. It may seem small now, but it can be serious in the future." Y/n interjects, Bendy turned his gaze to Y/n. 

"What do we look like, the Justice League?" He mocks, repeating what Y/n said from last night, and it seems the tables have turned. Y/n rolled her eyes at his childish reaction. Though...she didn't know what to expect coming from Bendy. 

"That's what you told me last night, right? What do you all expect us to do? Restore justice and equality back between humans and toons if all goes bad? And wave a finger at them and say;" he then stepped to the side and looked at the side of him, and shook his index finger, as if scolding a child. 

"Now be nice."

He then regained his posture and placed his hands behind his back. 

"No. That doesn't work like that.  If all, go to—I don't know—the white house and demand them to do their job to stop all what's happening."

Boris was about to lift a finger to wave. But seeing he didn't want to get involved in the mess of a conversation. He slowly put his arm to his side and stayed silent yet again. 

Though, Alice rubbed her temple and shook her head. 

"I...agree with Bendy." Oswald pipes up. Y/n looked over at Oswald and furrowed her eyebrows. Bendy then smiled widely—as if making a point. 

"What? You too? Why?" Y/n questioned. Oswald lifts the corner of his mouth for a second—as if thinking of what to say. 

"It's—a long story. I understand where Bendy is coming from—but Y/n. We can't put our focus on society and their problems— not when we potentially have one that revolves around a man in a trench coat, and I'm positive he has nothing to do with the problem between toons and humans, we have to focus on him and getting the rest of our team together." Oswald said. Y/n let out a slight huff through her nose. 

"Whatever...fine.." She muttered and looked back at Alice. Oswald was about to speak to her again when he noticed her sour response to his explanation. But, Alice spoke up before he could try to speak. 

"Well, me and Boris will keep tabs on them, along with anything else that may come by as questionable." Alice said. 

"Great, are we done? Okay! Let's hit the road!" 

-

Y/n sat in the passenger seat of the car, her hand hanging out the window, the wind brushing against her hand as the car drove down the road. The buildings passed by and the feeling of the warm sun invading the car—in which Bendy decided not to turn on the AC for whatever reason. 

Panchito and Oswald were in the back of the car, Panchito often shuffling around to find something to distract himself. Due to the fact, Y/n didn't want to drive, yet. Bendy took the responsibility of driving. 

"So.." Suddenly Oswald shuffled to the front, his upper part leaning on the arm rest, looking between Bendy and Y/n. 

"How long will it be to get to Orgeon?" He asks. Y/n didn't have the answer to that, so she turned to look over at Bendy. 

"Well, we left late, thanks to Alice. So most likely we won't arrive until late at night at around 11PM or so. The drive is 10 hours, if we don't make any stops." Bendy replied. His eyes focused on the road. Oswald nods and soon Y/n's eyes tracked across the dashboard of the car in search of the GPS or some sort of system to help guide them to Oregon, but—no doubt. She didn't see the device anywhere. 

"No stops? Does that include potty breaks?" Panchito asks, soon squeezed by Oswald, who moves over to give Panchito room to peer up at the front of the car. 

"Yes, we can take bathroom breaks. But nothing else, I'm assuming you have to use the bathroom?"

"No."

"Then why did you a-"

"We need a GPS." Y/n interrupts. Bendy looked away from the road and to Y/n. The corners of his mouth twitching—oh yes! The GPS! how could he forget?

"Okay, we're making a stop."

-

After an hour of driving down a one way road. With lots of fields—letting them know they've made it out of town. They spotted a gas station far to the side. Not much business going on—but good enough to get up on gas just in case, and look for a GPS to use—alongside with buying snacks so not many more stops can be made. 

Closing the door to the car, Y/n waited for the three toons to get out of the car. Looking around, she could smell the familiar smell of gasoline and tar pavement. Looking at the janky store. Y/n grimaced. 

"This place looks horrible.." She said. Bendy walked past her. He nudged her arm as he did so. 

"It's an off road gas station, toots. What do ya' expect?" He said as he walked towards the store. Soon, Y/n followed after. Hearing shuffling behind her, she looked over her shoulder and saw Oswald and Panchito following after her. Pushing open the glass doors to the store. Y/n was met with a simple gas store with 3 aisles—as any other gas store would have—nothing too extravagant. 

"A convenience store?" Panchito muttered under his breath. He stood next to Y/n and Oswald stood by her other side. The three looked at what the store had to offer as Bendy was busy talking to the cashier for a GPS—if the store had any. 

"I'm getting some chips." Y/n walked off to one of the aisles, in search of at least some decent snacks to keep her filled throughout the drive. Once seeing the small selection, she randomly grabbed the variation of chips and some candy bars for everyone. With a hand full of snacks she wandered back out of the aisle. So happening to walk past Oswald and Panchito who were by the slushies stand. Panchito was sitting on top of the slushie machine, the lid was open and he was digging around in the machine, digginging around in it as Oswald was holding down the lever to drink from the slushie machine. It seemed Panchito was pushing the slushie down the tube so more could come out as Oswald held down the lever and drank from the machine as if it were some sort of water fountain. Y/n quickly walked over. And with her foot she nudged Oswald's ankle. 

"Hey! Hey—you two. Stop it—-Panchito, get down from there. Now." Y/n ushered and scolded at the two. Meanwhile Bendy was watching as the person was counting the money Bendy gave, the cashier didn't even bat an eye to where the three were. Bendy soon landed his eyes on a small green box—a GPS—just what they needed! 

Though it was behind the cashier. Meaning he would have to ask to purchase it. 

"The GPS. How much would that be?" Bendy asked. The cashier soon looked over their shoulder to the box that was on the shelf, looking at the price tag that Bendy didn't so happen to see. The cashier turned back around and replied. 

"That'll be one-eighty," They replied. Bendy's tail went stiff as he glanced back at the GPS. "A dollar and 80 cents?" He asked slowly—-not no surprise, the cashier shook their head before replying. 

"One hundred and eighty." They corrected him. Soon—Y/n stood next Bendy. Dropping the bags of chips on the counter, after scolding at Oswald and Panchito, she finally got them to behave—appropriately. Only to be met with Bendy, who was in deep thought. 

"What are you making that face for?" Y/n asked Bendy. His pie cut eyes were slanted—as if he were in deep thought. His semi-permanent smile lowered as if he were frowning—yet he wasn't upset—just thinking. 

"The GPS cost an arm and a leg—that's what." He replied to her. Y/n squints her eyes in confusion, her eyes sliding over to where Bendy had his gaze pinned on. And it was the GPS.  And it was almost 200 dollars...at a gas station?! 

"Here you guys go." The cashier handed the two their bags, which Y/n took.

"Come on. We'll just use my phone for now until we run into another gas station." She told Bendy, which he turned from the box in defeat at the fact he couldn't purchase the god forsaken device. And with that, the small group walked from the store and back over to the car that was parked by one of the pumps. Y/n opened one of the back doors and tossed the bags to the back seat were Oswald and Panchito would be sitting. She noticed a small white cardboard box on the floor with the symbolic red cross. That must have been the first aid box Bendy was talking about. 

Reaching into the car, she grabbed it and opened the box, thankfully it had box filled with band aids and bandages, taking out the gauze and the peroxide to kill whatever germs would have gotten into the rope burn, Y/n placed the box down on the seat and opened the disinfectant bottle. Pouring the liquid on both of her hands. Oswald spotted Y/n with the bottle, she saw his figure stand in front of her, causing her to glance away at her hand. 

"What?" She asks. 

"Need help?" Oswald peered down at her hand and noticed the two burn marks on both of her palms. His ears raised slightly—almost cautiously. 

"What happened?" He asks. He reached down towards the car seat and grabbed the wrapped up gauze in the white box before. He took Y/n's left hand and started wrapping her palm in the bandage. 

"It's a rope burn." She answered. Oswald nods—putting his focus on wrapping the bandage comfortably around her hand, after doing so—and surprisingly ripping the bandage without scissors needed, he moved to the next hand, Y/n looked at her now bandaged left hand, flexing her fingers to make sure it wasn't too tight, but no doubt, Oswald wrapped it up just fine. Y/n looked away from her hand and to Oswald—who was still focused on wrapping her hand up, with a small smile when he was finished Y/n thanked him. 

"Thanks. I probably would have done a shit job wrapping it up." She said. "No problem." He returned the gratitude and placed the gauze back into the white box. 

Placing the pump back in its holster, Bendy finally spoke up;

"Alright, let's go-where's Panchito?" Bendy looked away from Oswald and Y/n and across the small gas station. The rooster was holding onto something—tugging it back, looking closer, they could see that he was trying to keep the book from floating away. Which Panchito saw that the three were looking over, his talon lifting from the ground as he tugged harder back to the ground to keep the book from floating away. 

"A little help?!" He cried out. Soon the three rushed over to Panchito, Y/n hopped up and grabbed a hold of the book to tug it back down. Oswald grabbed Panchito's talon and tugged him back down to the ground. Bendy grabbed Y/n's ankle to tug her back down as well. Being the anchor for the book did help momentarily. But with a split second the book shot from both Panchito's and Y/n's grip, causing them to fall to the ground. The book didn't fly away as suspected. Instead it tossed itself to the concrete and the book flipped open. Pages flipping one after the other. 

Y/n groaned in exhaustion. Hitting the ground abruptly like people did in those films were nothing like real life. It was painful. 

Bendy was about to walk over to pick the book up. But Oswald placed a hand in front of the demon toon, stopping him from walking. "Wait. Let it do what it needs to do." He said. Which Bendy listened to Oswald. Soon the book stopped from it page flipping and quickly a page ripped itself out. The beige tinted paper levitates above the open book. The Golden tint that Y/n and Panchito saw from last night, surrounding it yet again.

Soon, it folded itself up into what resembled to be a paper airplane. 

"...what..?" Y/n muttered. Heaving herself off the ground to look at the paper. But before anyone could interject the paper shot off! Out of the gas station and down the one way road. That same transparent trail leading the way. Y/n soon caught on. 

"It's just trying to lead us." She told the three. Panchito was silent for a second before understanding what she meant. "Oh yes, like it did last night to Bendy." He recalled. Bendy muttered something under his breath, most likely about getting hit by the book abruptly. 

Oswald soon interjected realizing how mostly blind he was for the last few hours. 

"Who exactly is in Oregon that we're going to talk to?" Oswald asks. Y/n walked over to the now still book, and picked it up. 

"Donald Duck. Or so we're assuming. The location is in Duckburg, and Panchito knows someone from down there—which is Donald." Y/n explained. Oswald had taken a short moment to think to himself...now why did that name sound so familiar..? Donald Duck….Donald Duck...Oswald was positive he heard the name somewhere. As his foot gently thumped against the pavement as he tried to recollect that familiar name. Y/n closed the book after making sure nothing was damaged. Soon she started walking back to the car. 

"Come on! We're knocking off too much time, we need to make it there at least before midnight."

-

Ah, as the four make their way to Oregon, let's move over to Duckburg, shall we?

Yes, Duckburg. A city filled with—well. Toons. And ducks of course. A popular town in Oregon, most popular for the renowned gazillionaire, Scrooge McDuck. The man who solves mysteries and rewrites history. Also home to a stubborn and low tempered duck, known as Donald Fauntleroy Duck.

The sound of the water breathing and the creaking of the sailboat. A white duck sat in a wooden chair by the edge of the sailboat, his head leaning in the crease of his arm as he lazily stared into the water that rippled in motion from the sailboat rocking back and forth ever so slightly. 

The nylon rope that attached itself from the dock to the boat, creaked with the motion of the boat. 

Donald rarely ever had silence, just. Pure silence. With most of his time being taken up with caring for his 3 nephews, now that their mother was back...there was really no need for him to keep much of an eye out for the 3. It has been almost 3 weeks since his 3 nephews left town to spend time with their mother that they so rightfully deserved. Yes. It was a break from the 3 rowdy boys, but they left a presence—Donald missed his three nephews. And he wasn't used to the silence that now endeavors the sailboat. 

Scrooge, yes. Was still in town, but was busy doing his own thing...being rich, obviously.

You would think with the current plethora of time, someone who spent years taking care of kids would find something to do with their alone time—such as a favorite activity or even sleep. But Donald couldn't find anything to do. No one to talk to—as if he had many people to converse with anyway. He quit being in the industry starring as a toon a long time ago, and he didn't think about going back, ever. Especially with the new toons he's seen on TV. 

Maybe a trip? No, he'd much rather have went on a trip with the boys instead of being by himself. 

Continuing to pass the time by listening to the serene ambience around him. He suddenly flinched at the feeling of something sticking in his feathers. 

Donald stood up with a grunt and reached back to pluck something from his tail feathers. Once bringing it to his view, he saw it was folded paper—that resembled an airplane. Furrowing his eyebrows, Donald turned around to see who would have thrown the paper at him, but was met with no one but the buildings from the town and—well, nature. 

"What the…" he looked back down at the paper, assuming by accident the wind caught a hold of it, that way it hit him. He crumbled up the paper. And tossed it to the side. Where it landed in a nearby trash can. 

Donald fixed his black sailor uniform before taking a few steps forward to go inside, but the trash can jolted slightly. As if someone kicked it. Donald flinched and whipped in the direction to face the trash can. His feathers ruffled up—now he was cautious. The trash can jolted yet again, causing it to tip over, and out rolled the balled up paper that Donald tossed in a few moments ago. Along with a few other things that were tossed away. 

"..." Donald stared at the paper with wide eyes. Looking to the left and then to the right, he took a few steps forward, stopping in front of the paper, with a webbed foot, he gently kicked the paper—which it rolled slightly. As it rolled the paper uncrumpled itself. Laying flat as if it were never crumbled, not a crease shown. This was..odd. Donald never seen anything like this before. Of course his Uncle Scrooge dragged him to odd and life threatening adventures, but those adventures hadn't happened in a while. 

Reaching down. Donald picked up the paper. The golden aura illuminated slightly under the sun. Words had been scribbled onto the paper in what seemed to be in ink. Donald lifted a finger to see out of curiosity if he could smear the ink.  Which he couldn't. Holding back onto the paper with both his hands he read aloud the words on the paper. 

"Just...keep following..the trail…" Donald ready slowly. Squinting his eyes gently. Looking up to see if he could see a trail. He saw nothing. Looking back at the paper. Donald tilted his head in confusion. 

"What?" He asks himself. As he spoke, the paper lit up slightly. His confused statement was soon written down on the paper. 

'What?'

"Whoa…" he said in awe. Donald tilted the paper, took a look to see if he can try and activate anything that can happen, but—he couldn't. Quickly flipping the paper back to the right position to see ink was once again writing another statement. 

'What? Hello?'

Donald soon was starting to think that maybe he got in contact with someone through the paper…? But how?

He was trying to register all what was happening and how to react. Obviously, what he was holding was no ordinary paper. 

"Hello." Donald replied, and as it did it once before. His statement was written down in the paper—for whoever was receiving it, to reply back. This was...exciting. New. But...odd. Where did this paper come from and why is it here? 

And way over, Y/n was the one who had replied to Donald. 

Six hours had passed in the car. Panchito was sound asleep in the back. As Oswald was looking out the window, watching the fields pass by. Bendy was still driving and as for Y/n...she discovered something new about the book. 

The book laid open in her lap. She stared down at the greeting;

'Hello.'

Whoever it was was receiving what she was saying as it wrote whatever she said down. And the same coming from whoever was on the other end. 

"Hey, for some reason I'm able to speak to someone on here." Y/n turned to look at Bendy, and then turned her gaze to Oswald.  Oswald looked away from the window and to Y/n. Leaning forward he peered down at the book in her lap to see the words screaming on the paper as if some sort of transcript.

"The book can talk too?" Oswald asks. He soon heaved himself up, slightly nudging Y/n to scoot over with his foot. 

"Scootch." He said. Y/n complained slightly. But moved over towards the left so Oswald could sit by the door. Plopping into the seat, Y/n saw the book wrote down what Oswald said. 

'The book can talk too?'

Which, whoever read it. Already replied by the time Oswald sat down. 

'Book? What book? My name is Donald'

Y/n mouth slowly opened as if she silently gasped. Oswald read the reply as well. His ears immediately shot up, almost hitting the ceiling of the car. 

"Look! Bendy, it's Donald!" Y/n shows the book to Bendy. Who finally focused on the new topic. Glancing at the book. His focused expression soon turned to one of surprisement. 

"Wait—how did—"

"Wait! You mean, Donald Duck?!" Oswald shouts. In what seemed to be anger. This caused Panchito to snort and abruptly wake up. His eyes squinting at the sunlight. Bendy glanced at the road and to Oswald. As Y/n gave Oswald a puzzled yet cautious expression. 

"Are you mad?" Bendy asked. Oswald looked between the two, his arms crossed for a moment before he increased them to try and think of an excuse. His ears lowered slightly. "No." Was all he said. Now he knew. Donald Duck. The Donald Duck...how did he not know..?

Y/n slowly looked back at the book to see another reply from Donald. 

'what's going on?'

"What does it say?" Bendy asks, he was too busy staring at the road to read the book. But Y/n took care to read out the question Donald asks. 

"He asked what's going on." She repeats. Soon, Oswald took the book from her hands. 

"We'll explain when we get there, it's me, Oswald and three others, short story, we have a book. And we need to see you. So be there and stay there." He said. And the exact words were written on the paper. A few seconds later, a reply from Donald scrawled on the paper. 

'Oswald? Why if it isn't my pal! Who're the other three? When will you be here?'

Y/n and Oswald read the reply and soon Bendy glanced over at Oswald. "You have some sort of vendetta or something against him, or?" Bendy trailed off to see if he could get an answer from Oswald. The rabbit muttered something before reply. 

"I'd rather keep it to myself. And no, I don't have a problem with him." Oswald replied. But Y/n wasn't too focused on their conversation, but more with trying to get to know the new member of the team, and that being Donald!

"Hi, my name is Y/n. Long story short, there's four of us right now, and we're looking for nine other people, what you're holding onto right now, is a piece of this book, I'm only assuming if we can communicate from a piece of paper, you're one of the people of our team that we're looking for, as Oswald said. We're on our way to Duckburg, stay there, and we'll tell you everything."

Y/n's short explanation copied itself onto the paper as it did before. Oswald leaned closer to look into the book. 

Soon. Donald replied. 

'Alright, I'll be here then.'

Donald even gave the address to them, even though the faint golden hue that was leading them down the roadway was enough. It was good to have his address as well. 

"Well this made this a thousand times easier." Bendy spoke up. Y/n closed the book with a nod. Leaning back into the seat, which wasn't much room as Oswald was squeezed into the seat as well. But he didn't seem to want to move either way. 

"We should be there by nightfall. So we'll have plenty of time to speak to Donald and get him caught up." Oswald glanced back out the window. Y/n looked over at Oswald. Who once again was back into his pool of thoughts. Y/n turned slightly to look into the back of the car. And found Panchito sound asleep yet again. His sombrero was now on the floor as his head leaned on the window, sleeping peacefully, Y/n was sure Panchito was exhausted with the amount of traveling he did to find Y/n and the others. He deserved the rest. Sitting back yet again, Y/n watched the road pass by. Bendy yet again placing his focus on the road. 

-

"Y/n. Wake up—-wake up….Hey!"

"Ow!" Y/n flinched at a painful pinch to her arm. Her eyelids shooting over and her optics turning over to meet Bendy's pie cut eyes.  He was standing on the passenger side, the door was open. And Oswald was seen in the background standing next to Panchito.  Behind them was a sailboat. The sun seemed to have been down for hours as the stars were out, the moon as well. Shining brightly in the sky for all to see. The lights on the sailboat glimmering in the chill night sky. 

"We're here. You were asleep the entire ride here." He adds. Y/n for a moment was disappointed at the fact she was asleep for so long, missing half of—well she didn't miss anything serious. But—either way, she wished she was up for the majority of the ride. 

"What? Why didn't you guys wake me up?" She unbuckled herself. Grabbing the book and her book bag that was on the floor. Placing it back in the bag and zipping it up. Y/n tossed the book around her shoulder and closed the door behind her. Bendy then stood next to her. 

"Trust me. We did. But that doesn't matter, we're in Duckburg now, and I believe this is Donald's address." Bendy motioned towards the sailboat that Oswald and Panchito were standing in front of. Y/n's eyes widen in awe. 

"Whoa…" she didn't know anyone that lived on a boat house..it was..cool to see actually. 

"What time is it?" She asked. Walking over to the other two. Bendy trailing beside her. Oswald glanced at his wrist—where a wrist watch would have been. 

"11:45PM before midnight." He said in a sly tone. Bendy squints his eyes. 

"But you don't have a wrist wa—"

"Donal!!"

"Panchito?!" 

Bendy, Oswald, and Y/n looked over to see Panchito sped across the dock and onto the boat, crashing into a white feathered duck. Donald Duck. 

Panchito laughed in excitement, locking Donald in a tight hug. Donald doing the same with a smile stretched on his beak, he seemed shocked to see Panchito, a look of familiarity and security washed over his face, Panchito hopped from one talon to the other as his tail feathers ruffling, he took a small step back to take in the sight of Donald, Donald did the same.

“I didn’t know you would be here! I haven’t seen you in so long! You’ve gotten taller, time surely does pass huh?” Donald spoke, his tail feather wagging repeatedly from pure joy, Panchito laughed and nodded his head, he extended his hands to motions towards the three; Oswald, Bendy and Y/n, Donald looked over and spotted the three, almost forgetting they were there. They were standing by the bridge of the dock that connected to the sailboat, Y/n had her focus on Donald and Panchito, and their interaction with each other, it was unbelievable on how the two knew each other and had such a tight and close bond, it was nice to see how exciting their first meeting was.

“This. These are my friends!” Panchito said, Donald’s eyes

Immediately went over to Oswald, who was already looking at Donald, the white duck perked up yet again before he walked away from the dock and over to the three, Panchito trailing right behind Donald.

“Oswald! I’m so glad to see you!” Donald extended his arms and almost immediately pulled Oswald into a hug, it seemed Oswald tried to back away from the hug by taking a step back and putting his hands up, but Donald didn’t seem to notice, wrapping his arms around Oswald, the rabbit deflated at the hold before wrapping his arms around the sailor in a warm hug.

“Yeah...good to see you too, buddy.” Oswald mumbled to him. Bendy looked at Y/n, which Y/n did the same. They both shared the same expression; they both know each other too?

“Oswald, you didn’t tell us that you knew, Donald.” Bendy told the rabbit, Donald pulled away from Oswald at Bendy’s statement, but he didn’t look at Oswald for answers or curiosity, he turned his gaze over to Bendy, Bendy! Donald has seen Bendy plenty of times on TV, though, he hadn’t personally met him, his nephews enjoyed watching the demon on screen, watching as Bendy did tons of crazy acts to other toons he forgot the names of, he was of the generations newest cartoons to be introduced, and Donald was curious to see that the same demon was right in front of him!

Bendy smiled and waved at Donald before taking a step forward to shake Donald’s hand, which Donald took hold of Bendy's hand, the two shaking each other’s hand.

“Hiya! My name is Bendy, it’s an honor ta’ meet the Donald Duck! I’ve see tons of ya’ shorts, and y—”

“You kiddin?! It’s an honor to meet you! It’s nice to see rising toons out here, you’ve been such an icon lately!” Donald and Bendy went back and forth in a conversation that Y/n slipped away from when she caught sight of Oswald, Oswald was still standing off

To the side, watching the two speak, they

Sound like businessmen of some sort, as if they could finally, Relate to each other in some way or form, Bendy and Donald momentarily being in their own world, Donald tagging in Panchito who stood by them, listening to their conversation.

Oswald didn’t seem too interested in the conversation, his left hand rubbing his right arm up and down slowly before he looked off somewhere else, Y/n didn’t know too much about Oswald, but she was certain there was something there about him that made him act the way he did, his sudden angry outburst, his strange way of showing a greeting to Donald, now thinking on it, Y/n didn’t know much about Panchito either—other than he lives somewhere in Mexico and not America, and Bendy—she also didn’t have much about him either.

“Y/n!” Y/n looked away from Oswald and over to Panchito, who a few meters away was beckoning her over to Donald and Bendy, the other two looked at her as Panchito had his arm wrapped around Donald’s shoulder, once he saw he got Y/n’s attention, he smiled widely and said; “Come here Querida, come meet my closest friend!”

Y/n placed a smile on her face and walked over to the three, Donald immediately held out his hand for a hand shake, a smile stretching onto his beak. Y/n took his hand and shook it.

“Nice ta’ meet ya’ toots!” He introduces, Y/n felt her smile widen, such positive energy from meeting a new person once again invaded the air, she knew of Donald Duck, of course who wouldn’t? Meeting him was a nice feeling she didn’t even think she would have the chance to get. 

“Hi, my name is Y/n, Y/n L/n, it’s nice to meet you, Panchito seems very fond of you,” Y/n looked over at Panchito who smiled at her, looking back at Donald he laughed lightly.

“Yes, seeing you Donald was the last thing I expected, especially in this circumstance.” Donald seemed to perk up slightly at the end of Panchito’s statement, of course, they were there for a reason! Not just to have a reunion party.

“Oh yes, you guys mentioned a book, right? Come in, we’ll discuss it inside.” Donald waved his hand for the group to follow him inside the sailboat, Panchito trotted beside Donald, wrapping an arm around Donald’s shoulders as the two started their own conversation, Bendy lifted his arm slightly towards Y/n, causing her

To look at his arm with a puzzled expression, until quickly after she caught on and wrapped her arm

around his arm, but Y/n took sight of Oswald when she glanced over her shoulder to him, he trailed behind, and Y/n noticed a look of contemplation on his face, she then decided to unhook her arm from Bendy’s. Bendy slowly stopped walking and looked over at Y/n.

“What’s wrong?” He asks her, Y/n motioned towards Oswald.  “You go in, I’m gonna have a talk with Oswald,” she said, Bendy looked at Oswald

For a moment, who noticed the two stopped walking and he did too. Bendy looked back at the sailboat and then back at Y/n. She motioned for him to go in with her hand. “Get Donald caught up, we’ll be in there soon.” She said, Bendy nods before walking off without a second thought, looking away from Bendy’s retreating form, she heard footsteps near her, looking back over to her opposite side she saw Oswald standing next to her.

“You seem a bit disconnected.” She started, Oswald ears raised as he stared at the open door of the sailboat house, the golden warm glow spilled from the corridor. 

Y/n could only assume it was because of the sudden occurring events from the past few hours and the fact that Oswald kidnapped the odd man that they all know could obviously deem him as their enemy.

Looking away from the boat, Y/n looked at Oswald, though he didn’t turn to look at her, instead he spoke slowly.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just exhausted.” Which was partially true, Oswald wasn’t able to get a good amount of sleep last night back at the studio nor in the car on their way to Oregon, Duckburg, but that was only a portion of his obscure change of emotions. Looked around at the quiet dock that led to a small neighborhood, Y/n turned around and walked back over the car, parked on the side by the sidewalk she spoke to Oswald. “Come on, we’ll talk in the car.” She said as she walked to the car to unlock it, which was surprisingly still unlocked. Oswald looked at her for a moment with wide eyes, he was...surprised, no one really took the chance to speak to him, whether that would be on a serious and

personal level, or just in general. So, he followed her.

Once inside the car, with Y/n sitting in the driver seat, she stared out the window for a moment, looking up at the dark sky, the stars shining in the sky and the full moon shining down on the quiet neighborhood, the chirping of crickets in the thickets and bushes and the the buzzing of cicadas hiding in the trees, leaning back in the chair the cool air was now crisp and comfortable to sit out in without having the car running for heat to not freeze the death. Oswald sat in the passenger seat and closed the door once he was seated. 

Once hearing the door close Y/n looked back over at Oswald. “I didn’t know you knew Donald,” she tried to start the conversation with the rabbit, Oswald rested his elbow on the arm rest of the car as he looked at Y/n. “Yeah, we know each other, we go way back. I guess you can say.” He answered her. Y/n nods before looking back to the drivers side of the window, she didn’t know much about Oswald to sit and interrogate him about how distant he reacted to certain things, she really didn’t know him enough to demand him to spill his problems to her—if he even had any to begin with and it’s just Y/n misinterpreting his emotions—which she hope it wasn’t that latter. She was trying to find the comfortable route to have Oswald speak to her if he was upset about something, to her, it was better to have a group that’s all on the same page and agree with each other. But, Oswald seemed to already start the conversation himself.

“I uh—want to apologize when we were at the studio, and I agreed with Bendy,” he starts. Y/n tried to think back on what he meant, she took a few moments and realized the small meeting they all had back at the studio with Alice and Boris. Looking back at him, she waved her hand lightly, as if dismissing the thought.

“Oh no, you’re fine—you guys are right, we need to focus on what really matters,” though she slightly agreed with her own statement, she was still on the fence with the 2nd problem growing at hand with society, but thinking on it more...there’s not much she can do to change the mind of society. 

“So, tell me about yourself? What do you like to do?” She asks, folding her hands on her stomach so she can put her full attention on Oswald. Oswald’s ears rose, almost touching the roof of the car. “Well, I didn’t expect that question for you—hm...let’s see. I like to travel, I love to meet new people, I used to collect enamel pins, but I gave them away.” He names off several things, and Oswald seemed pretty much like an average toon.

“Why’d you sell the pins?” Y/n asked. Oswald only shrugged slightly, he didn’t have an explanation for that—or just didn’t want to tell her. 

“Just didn’t want to keep up with them anymore.” Was his only answer. Nodding, Y/n was silent for a moment.

“How often do you get out?”

“Not as much as I should—what are you my therapist now?” He joked playfully at Y/n’s question, Y/n smiled before shaking her head.

“So, are you really lucky or do you just assume you are?” That question was actually at the back of her head for hours, Last night when Oswald was angry that his ‘luck’ was gone and then later that night, it came back with the situation with the semi-truck rolling, which—that was pretty damn lucky.

Oswald seemed to smile smugly and slick his ears back as if slicking down a hairstyle. “I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but—I am a fairly lucky rabbit.” He winks, Y/n laughs at his silly expression.

“Okay then, hopefully that luck will help us out along the way,” Oswald snorted and shook his head lightly.

“Eh, I dunno, Donald’s luck is pretty bad.”

“He has bad luck?” 

“Unluckiest Duck, no one gets stuck with all the bad luck than Donald Duck,” Oswald said. That was interesting, bad luck and good luck? That surely must come in handy.

Sitting in silence looking out the windows and taking in the serene silence. Oswald felt..happy and at peace that someone took a time from their day to have a short one on one conversation with him. 

“Hey!” Oswald and Y/n looked over towards the passenger side window to see Panchito in the doorway on the sailboat. He waved his hand for the two to come onto the boat.

“Come on!”

-

Walking into the boat house, the warm air coaxed Y/n’s figure, Bendy was busy speaking with Donald, he took Y/n’s book bag which had the book in it, Donald was—surprised, not only had the book opened for him—as they all suspected in the first place, this was an odd scenario he had ever been in! Watching as Donald then placed his hand on the book, as the four had done before, he quacked in surprisement when the golden  light traced his hand on the page and wrote his name down.

Donald looked down at his palm and then the book, Bendy placed the book on the table that he and Donald were standing near.  “Well! That’s that, welcome to the team,” Bendy grinned at Donald, who looks over at Panchito, Oswald and Y/n—who were all watching him.

“Well—what’s next then?” He asked, Bendy closed the book and placed it back into Y/n’s bag. “Well, we can’t say, we so far have been only looking for the rest of the team.” Oswald answered, Y/n nods.

Donald looked at the group and thought for a mere second.

“Well, how about this? You all stay here tonight, and when morning comes, we have a meeting on what the next move should be, you all drove all the way here, so rest should be the first thing in the list.” Y/n was glad not only did Donald have them somewhere to stay, but to seemingly be someone on the team to make the plans—and Y/n could only imagine how much structure they would need in their growing team.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Y/n answered, Bendy then motions towards Y/n. “Well, the lady said it fellas,” he said. 

“I call the couch.” Oswald made a straight walk to the couch that was a few meters away, Y/n realized the living room and kitchen was attached, not much of a surprise as this was a small section of the sailboat that could be lived in, small, but

Comfortable for one person.

“So, Donald, are you going to be tagging along with us whenever we leave town?” Y/n walked over to the table Donald was still standing at, next to Bendy. Donald smiled and nodded. “Oh man, will I?! I’ve been meaning to get outdoors in some time, Spending time with my best pal—“ he looked over at Panchito, who wandered over to stand beside Bendy and then Donald looked at Y/n.

“And you guys as well! This would be great.”  He replies, that’s good! He wanted to tag along, making things a lot easier. “Ah? Wonderful, this should be fun, I have all these wonderful people around me!”

Panchito extends his arms, motioning towards everyone in the room, a wide smile stretched onto his beak. 

“Do any of you have an idea where the others might be located?” Donald asks, Panchito’s arms lowered to his side, Bendy then shook his head.

“We don’t have a clue, but the book for the most part led us to the right people. So, we’ve pretty much been relying on the book to be our guide.” Bendy replied, Y/n agreed with him, yes. For the most part they have been just blindly following that book to lead them to the right person, which for the most part has been proving itself as good. Donald seemed to make a questionable expression, but shrugged it off. If they managed to find him, who was he to disagree with how they were doing their seeking game to find the rest of the team.

He walked over to a corridor on the side of the room, that seemed to be a small hallway. “I’ll go and get more blankets, I’ll be right back.” Donald then disappeared down the halls, Panchito, Y/n and Bendy watched before the three looked at each other. 

“This was a lot easier than I expected.” Y/n said. 

“Tell me about it, I thought it would take ages to find the guy.” Bendy walked over to the couch that Oswald was busy occupying, placing the book bag on the side of the couch before sitting down. Despite being asleep for half the ride, Y/n did feel fatigue start to seep into her body, despite the fact she was asleep for the majority of the ride, she was still tired from not being able to properly sleep in the car. 

“Can we get breakfast tomorrow? All day we’ve been running off of chips.” Y/n pipes up, her optics slowly observing the decor of the room, a pretty simple living with, with a couch—one love seat, a coffee table and a TV. Oswald was about to answer Y/n until Donald walked back in with a pile of blankets, which were really 2 blankets, he stumbled over to the couch due to the big blankets causing him to loose footing slightly, dumping the blankets between Oswald and Bendy, Donald let out a sigh of relief.

“There, those are the ones I could find, if you need anymore I can go get more.” Donald said. Oswald looked at the blankets and shook his head. “This should be fine, Donald. Thanks.”

Y/n grabbed a blanket and tugged it from the pile, The blanket was big enough to sleep just fine—not that it mattered? Any sort of blanket or pillow Donald would have gave her she would have gracefully taken, she wasn’t complaining—after all they all were at his home.

Walking over to the love seat, she took notice that Panchito was seated on one side of it, Though, there was still space for her to sit down next to him, which she did. Panchito noticed and turned his head to look at her with a smile.

And for the rest of the night, it was filled with silence and...sleep.

-

“Okay. I’m not gonna tell ya’ this another time, mutt.”

The lights flickered on, Boris squinted his pie cut shaped eyes at the sudden light, a small grunt escaping his mouth. He was sitting at a desk that was cluttered with paper—music notes—and other blank pieces of unused paper, the desk lamp turned towards him, the light shining in his eyes as Boris was squinting his eyes to get the light from his face.

“Where’s Bendy…” 

Sammy stood across the desk, his hand on the neck of the lamp that was pointing at Boris, a suspicious expression written in his face, his question—sounded more like a statement than a question. Boris' eyes flicked up and down Sammy, who still had that suspicious glint in his eyes.  Boris soon rolled his eyes.

“Out of town, like Henry told us.”  Was his simple answer, Sammy scoffed before pushing himself away from the desk. 

“Ah, bullshit. Do you really think I’ll fall for that? He’s up to something.”

“He’s always up to something.” Boris blankly added in, Sammy waved his hand, As if dismissing Boris to make him silent.

Soon, a new voice popped in.

“Samuel, can we please leave now? I need to read over the new script that just came in, and you’re wasting my time.” Boris and Sammy looked over, Alice was seated in a chair as well, behind the desk—next to Boris. Boris' ears perked up.

“When did you get here?” He asked. Alice sighed before turning her gaze to Sammy, her leg crossed over the other.

“Now, darling. What is it that you want? As said, Bendy’s on a short vacation, most likely to get away from you and ya’ bickerin, you had him behind the eight ball making him practice his music segments,” Alice was very fluent in her words, covering up the fact that she indeed knew where and what Bendy and the others were at and their objective, but she was a strong toon and wasn’t going to break or falter under Sammy’s gaze.

Sammy lifted the corner of his lips in a quick scoff.

“I wasn’t pushing him, he was the one who can’t keep a straight alto for one verse. But that’s besides the point. Alice? Weren’t you the one that grew suspicious of him from that night? You were basically all around the studio yapping about putting the fella in a stronghold for keeping a secret,”

Alice looked at Sammy for a moment, the cogs in her brain turning.. was she really that mad? Wow, she needs to work on that.

“I’m over it now, not my business.” She  crossed her arms, Sammy sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fine, I got work to do anyway.” He turned around and walked over to the side of the room, flicking on the lights in the meeting room, he then opened the door.

“And don’t forget, practice your lines, This is the 3rd time this week you forgot a whole verse, Alice.” He said as he walked out the room, closing the door behind him. Alice watched the door for a moment.

“What’s his deal?” She asks Boris, Boris tapped the table with his index finger. “Most likely mad he can’t finish a drafted music sheet.” 

She stood up from the seat, dusting her black dress. Taking a small sigh she then looked over at Boris.  “Okay. Back to the real news, have you collected anything last night? Any information?” She asks the wolf. Boris thought for a moment. 

“Hmm..I dunno. Nothin’ too eye catchin’, I would remember more if you didn’t hit me in the head.” He eyed Alice for a moment before standing up from the seat, Alice only hummed before going back to task at hand.

“Well, I couldn’t find much of anything last night either, other than Tommy’s small infatuation with pine cones.” She said. Alice walks around the desk, and over to the door, Boris follows behind her as the two exit the room and into the hallway. It was the next day—9AM to be exact and many people were already in the studio, doing their jobs and whatnot.

“So. Why do we need to be the lookout for intel again?” Boris asks. Lifting a hand to scratch behind his ears. Alice walked down the hall with a confident stride in her step. She fixed her silky hair before she pushed up two doors that led to the office area of the building.

“Boris, hun—we’ve been over this.” Alice said. The sound of people chattering, keyboards, paper and other machines filled the air. Walking over to a desk—similar to the receptionist desk at the lobby of the building—Boris stood next to Alice as the two looked at Annie who was looking through a set of papers.

“Sorry we’re late Mrs. Bell. Sammy had us in a hold again.” Alice smiled at the lady. Annie looked away from the papers and to Boris and Alice. Giving the two a welcoming smile she lifted two stacks of paper and placed them on the desk, in front of Alice and Boris. 

“Ah, no worries dear. Here’s the new scripts that just came in last night. I gave Henry’s Bendy’s script whenever the fella gets back in town.” Annie told the two. Alice nods as she lifted a pen from a cup that was on the desk and wrote her name down in the screenplay—to keep track of it.

“So, how has your mornin’ been Ms. Bell?” Boris asked. Though he didn’t take his eyes off the screenplay.

Annie had gone back to organizing the many papers on the desk—she always wanted all her desk organized.

“Pretty well, got here early since my nephew went back to Colorado for school and I didn’t have to make him breakfast—Henry told me earlier he saw a restaurant that didn’t Allow toons. Turns out there’s a law now that has been passed about a week ago where any human that doesn’t feel safe about toons has the will to not allow them in certain establishments. Crazy because I never even been notified from any article or news report about the crazy new law—to be honest that’s just horrible.”

This caused Alice to fumble in whatever else she was writing on the paper, the crooked line on the paper was soon ignored as Alice looked at Annie. Boris did the same as well. Annie sighs and shakes her head.

“I know Deary. Disappointing. I never knew this would be like this. The board last night had a meeting with Henry. Lately there have been some complaints from parents that Bendy’s appearance is too inappropriate for the kids, you know. Since he resembles a demon and all. But—that’s an issue we can’t fix no matter the complaints—but—he said that the board wants the entire cast out for a meet and greet to show a good face for the show—you know. Not to have any heads start turning to us with this whole toon debacle. Last thing we need is people trying to talk bad about you all just because.” Annie said. Boris tilts his head slightly.

“They want us to do a character meet and greet to show that we’re...good? Basically. Tha—“

“Seems like a bunch of bologna!” Shouts a scruff voice. Alice sighs as her shoulders sunk. An expression of annoyance written on her face. Three toons walks over, the show's antagonists— yet 3 silly and lovable characters.

Charley, Barley and Edgar. The one speaking, the head honcho, Charley. The toon pushed Boris and Alice over to squeeze between them. Lifting a forearm to lean on the desk and look at Annie.

“3 screenplays, if ya’ will. Make it snappy.”  He grins. Annie only lets a small laugh out, picking up three screen plays. She hands them over to Charley, he takes them and toss them behind his back, the three script books flew in the air and back down—aiming right above the eyepatch wearing toon, Barley.

Barley looks up and the two scripts fall onto him, causing him to fall to the ground with a; “oof!” He lifts a hand up as if to say something, but the 3rd script falls onto him with a loud; Thud!

“So, where’s Ben-man? Am I late to somethin’ or what? And why the hell is Sammy runnin’ around shoutin? We ain’t even start blocking the script yet.” Charley stands up straight and looked between the three.

“And what’s with the faces?”

“We!—“ Alice clears her throat from the sudden shout—she didn’t have time for Charley and his obnoxious and egotistical attitude! She was

More focused on speaking with Annie about the discussions Henry had with the board.  

“We were discussing something, Charley. Now if you don’t mind. Can we continue it without you being a disruption.” Alice places her hands together as she smiled at Charley, her cheeks prominent as she gave him an innocent expression. Her golden halo flickered for a moment. She was lying. 

Charley stared at her for a moment with furrowed eyebrows.

“What are ya’ bluenosin’ for? What are ya’ ladies gossiping about this time? I wanna know my onions too!” He looks over at Boris. 

“Yer in on this too or something’?! gee biz—what the hell am I? Dirt? Let me in too!” Charley then started to complain about not always being in on the fun. Alice signed and rubbed her temple at the complainants.

“Oh hush, Charley. Bendy is out of town. And we’re discussing how the board meeting went last night for Henry.” Annie stopped Charley from talking. Charley rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“Oh? Ya’ meant how Henry’s been pullin’ his own hair about how the peeps have been getting angry about Bendy being a demon toon—if ya’ ask me. We should just put him back in a Tutu, that’ll make em’ shut up. Or are ya’ talkin’ about how Henry plans on Havin’ us interact with people at this kids birthday party next Friday.”

“A what?” Boris and Alice said in unison. Alice slammed her hands on the table.

“A birthday party?! What idea is that? How would that help the view on toons—that makes no sense!” Alice sighed and rubbed her forehead. Annie sighed softly.

“Well, Alice. It’s for the best right now. Business things—that’s what I also say when things don’t make sense.” Annie told Alice. 

“Squeak Squeak!” Edgar waddled over. Speaking in his own language of squeaks. Charley nods—understand what the spider toon said.

“Yeah, me too.” Charley agreed with..whatever it was

Edgar said.

Alice picked up her script and took Boris by the collar of his shirt and started to walk away.

“Thanks for the info, Annie. C’mon Boris. We got work to do.” Alice dragged Boris—he stumbled behind her, Edgar waved goodbye as Boris waved goodbye back. Barley still on the floor. Mounted by the three scripts and Charley looking at the two with squinted eyes.

“Is it me—or does she seem more quippier than usual?” Charley asks Annie. Annie raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not even a word.”

Edgar watched as Alice and Boris walked away. The spider toon followed after them, stepping over Barley—who was still on the floor and groaned when Edgar climbed over him. Charley noticed that the spider butcher was walking away.

“Ed, where are ya’ goin?” He calls out. But Edgar didn’t reply.

Meanwhile, Alice walked down the hall, muttering something under her breath, her halo flickering ever so slightly, Boris looked up at his angel friend halo and unhooked himself from her grip—which she didn’t seem to notice. Boris caught his balance and started walking next to Alice.

“Take a breather.  Who knows, maybe going to a kids birthday party to spend time with them won’t seem too bad after all.” Boris said in an optimistic tone, but Alice wasn’t having it. Scoffing—the angel shook her head before she turned around and moved to stand in front of Boris. Boris noticed and stopped walking as he gave her a puzzled expression.

“No, don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter how fun the party is! Why do we need to create this—this—this facade, to make sure the audience don’t look at us as if we’re the lunatic toons that are making those crimes, we already had that case with Joey—but that was a few years ago, but still—we’re alive just as much as humans are too—on goodness me, don’t even get me started on the restaurant issue—who do those people think they are—“ Alice went on and on, complaining, but it seemed more like she was venting. Which Boris took notice of. His ears slowly standing on its ends and his tail wagged quickly.

“Wait, Alice. You’re doing what we’ve read from those news articles, complaining.” Boris piped up, cutting Alice off. Alice looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes Boris, dear, obviously I’m complaining—isn’t that obvious—this is—“

“Toons are retaliating.” He cuts her off yet again. Alice stared at Boris. And soon caught whim of what he meant. Alice stared at Boris for a moment. Of course! Toons are reaching their end—they tired of being tossed around like—Well toons! How didn’t she and everyone else not see it to begin with?! It was bright as day.

“Squeak!” Alice looks over, behind Boris to see Edgar, Boris turns around and moves to stand next to Alice so he could look at the spider toon.

“Squeak squeak!” The spider started to squeak incoherently. Waving his two arms around—whatever it was, he wanted to tell Alice and Boris.

Boris only tilts his head in confusion, he could never understand a word Edgar was saying—but it seemed Charley and Barley could always understand their butcher friend just fine.

“What?” Boris muttered. Alice stared down at Edgar.

“Eddie, honey...I can’t understand you, we—you know this.” Alice said softly. Edgar slowly lowered his arms and looked between Alice and Boris. But he didn’t give it—he seemed very determined to tell the two whatever it was he needed to say.

Edgar hopped up and down. Baring his fangs as he came from his mouth. Soon lifting both his arms up, way above his head. Resembling ears before hopping around. Putting his two arms down he extended his arms as if aiming towards something he emitted a small; “pew! Pew!”

Then, he stood up straight and tall. As if to hold a broad and confident stature. 

“Uh—horseback riding!” Boris shouts. Alice made a noise before nudging her elbow into Boris’s arms. He grunts and looks at her. 

“What? I thought we were playing charades?” He said innocently.

“No, he’s obviously trying to tell us something, But I don’t know what it is..” Alice tapped her chin. Boris inhaled and was about to say something, but Alice cut him off.

“And it’s not horseback riding.” She told him. Boris deflated and his ears flattened against his head.

“I can never have fun..”

Edgar could see the two were still having problems understanding him. Standing there he tried to find a conclusion to make him more understandable. Soon, he scurried away down the hall. Alice opened her mouth to shout after him, but as quick as lighting. Edgar zipped back over and was holding a book—which was just some random novel he took from someone’s desk. Opening it, he dropped it to the floor and zipped away yet again—and back over! This time with a trench coat covering his body—due to him being a small toon. The coat mauled him slightly, but that wasn’t Alice’s concern. Edgar soon opened the trench coat, revealing himself—he wore pencil mustache by his—Well where his nose should have been.

Edgar let out squeaks similar to a cackle before he picked up the book and a triumphant expression rid his face.

“Wait…” Alice whispered. She placed a finger on her temple that...pencil mustache—it resembled someone she was familiar with.

“Boris—did you understand him?” Alice looked over at her Wolf friend. Boris looked away from Edgar who looked up at them with a gleam of hope.

“Uh—“ Boris' tail sagged slightly. Alice crossed her arms.

“Boris!”

“Hey! I’m running off of an oatmeal bar I ate this morning, give me a break!”

Alice waved Boris away before turning her head to look at Edgar. “Eddie, are you telling us you saw Bendy with three others?” Alice asked Edgar. And he nods! She was right! She was on the right page! And not only that—she got answers! A lead! Gosh, she sounded like a detective.

“Were they a rabbit, a rooster and girl?” She asks yet again. And he nods. 

“Where were you when you saw them?” 

Edgar points up to the ceiling. 

“Stargazing? I know right, I heard the stars were out that night, did you see any shooting stars?” Boris asks. Edgar shook his head frantically before pointing up at the ceiling again. Alice raised an eyebrow.

“So, you weren’t outside?” 

He shook his head.

“Then where were you?” She asks. And yet again, he points to the ceiling, this time she looks up and sees a vent. Looking back down at him she then wondered;

“You were in the vents? Why?” She asks. Edgar only shook his head side to side as if saying; ‘so-so’

“Long story?”

“Squeak squeak.”

“How come you didn’t tell Charley and Barley?” She asks.  Edgar shook his head before baring his teeth and lifting his hands up to his head resembled horns.

“You knew Bendy wouldn’t want that?” She asks. And he nods. 

“So you saw whoever was in that trench coat the others were telling me about? Bendy told me and Boris everything. But have you seen that man in the trench coat?” Edgar shivers at Alice question before

Nodding. He pointed at the pencil mustache that was still on his face.

“Well whoever it is has a mustache.” Boris said. Edgar nods—but he didn’t end there. He motioned around their surroundings, as if signaling the area.

“I don’t understand you..” Alice said—shaking her head. What did he mean? What did he mean?

“Do you know for sure all the details on who was in that coat?” Alice asks. Edgar paused momentarily, shaking his hand; so-so—like he did before.

“How did you even see em’ you followed them?”

Edgar bashfully nods his head. 

“You know this would be much easier if we just had Charley translate for us. No offense, Edgar.” Boris quips. Alice shook her head. “What? No, I

Specifically told the others that whatever they shared with me and you before they left town, stays between us. I mean..come on Boris—they have a stolen book, we can’t just go around telling anyone. Most certainly not Charley and Barley, Edgar is now an exception because it’s obvious he has more in depth details about what he saw, plus. I like him.” Alice placed a hand on Edgar’s head. The arachnid smiled and purred softly.

Boris crossed his arms.  “Biased much. But fine, we’ll do it your way..”

“There is no, ‘my way’—it’s the most reasonable way

So no one gets in trouble.” Alice reasoned with Boris. Boris hummed in acknowledgment. 

“Okay, well can he at least write it in a piece of paper? I hate charades—it’s giving me a headache.”

“Fine, let’s go, then later in, we’ll have to contact the others—Detective Alice—wow, never knew I would hear that title—sounds catchy!” She boasted and turned around to walk down the hall with a cheerful stride in her step.  Edgar follows behind, squeaking happily.

“Oh brother..”  Boris muttered and face palmed before dragging himself to follow Alice and Edgar.

-

Y/n was still asleep on the loveseat. The blankets was lifted close to her face—cascading her in warmth. Her head leaned in the armrest of the couch. One leg posted up on the other armrest as her other leg hung off the couch. 

Slam!

The front door opened harshly and stumbled in..Panchito.

This caused Y/n to flinch. Her heart jumping in her throat as she sat up quickly. Bendy was asleep on the floor, and his head was under the coffee table. When he flinched and sat up. His head hit the table. His hand shot up and held his head as he grunted painfully. Oswald slowly opened his eyes. Which were squinted.

“Panchito—what—why aren’t you asleep? Why are you outside? What’s wrong?” Y/n rubbed her eyes, the blanket fell off her as Panchito walked into the living room.

“I have found—this!” He extended his arms and opened his palm. Showcasing...a turtle. A small turtle. 

“I found this little guy by the dock! Isn’t he so cute! I will name him. BB—no! Chirp. Because when I found him. He was making a chirping sound—“

Bendy soon got up and walked over to Panchito.

“Did you really wake us up for a stupid turtle? Go throw it out!” 

“Can you guys keep your voices down please, gosh..” Oswald turned his back towards the three and lifted the blanket to his face. Panchito moved the turtle away from Bendy—so the demon wouldn’t try anything as he suspected.

“But—he is so cute. Look at him.”

“It’s a turtle. Put it back.”

“No!”

��Hey!” Oswald shouts before sitting up and turning to look at Bendy and Panchito. The two looked over at the rabbit.

“Cut it out! It’s too early for all that!”

“Actually.” Donald suddenly appeared in the room. Standing near the front door. The sun is brighter than usual. All the way in the sky. Which was odd for a morning sunrise...

“It's 1 in the afternoon.”

-

Placing the book on the hood of the car. Y/n opened it and started flipping through the papers to find the map. The sun was out and it was pretty hot out. Finding the map yet again been marked with a small ink dot, the last ink dot that marked Oregon was gone.  But—that didn’t matter. Seeing Idaho was marked for their next location was a big relief as Y/n was glad they didn’t have to travel overseas to get anyone. And the fact that Idaho was next door to Oregon—the drive wouldn’t be no longer than maybe 8 hours.

“Okay guys, the next location is Idaho.” Y/n turned around and looked at the four toons that waited for her. Donald raised an eyebrow.

“Idaho? What’s in Idaho?” He asks. Bendy snickered and looked over at Donald.

“I don’t know—pppft—get it? Idaho? I don’t know? Hahaha!” He burst out laughing at his corny joke—that really wasn’t a joke to begin with, but he found humor

In it. Oswald lowered his ears and gave Bendy a fearful expression. Looking between Bendy and Y/n—who didn’t even crack a smile at the joke. Oswald spoke up.

“He—he uh...he doesn’t do this often...right?” He asks her. And Y/n hope he didn’t, sitting in a car for 8 hours listening to puns and jokes? She'd rather walk the way there or catch a bus.

“What? No one likes my joke? C’mon! That was hilarious!” Bendy was still laughing through his words. Panchito was silent for a moment. At first he didn’t get it, until he muttered it under his breath again. Soon a look of realization took over.

“Oooh! I get it! Ahaha!” Panchito laughed along with Bendy. “That’s the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard.” Donald said. A blank expression on his face. Not even moved by the joke. Y/n closed the book and walked over the car door and opened the passenger seat.

“Alright! Come on! Let’s hit the road please, I wanna be there before nightfall.”

-

Y/n watched as the many cornfields passed by—leaving Duckburg about 2 hours ago with no hassle. And it was good that they didn’t need

To take a break. Though, now, with five people in the car, there wasn’t much room as there was to begin with. Oswald did squeeze back up into the front to

Sit in the passenger seat with Y/n again. Panchito and Donald were catching up with each other, talking about their own business. The book was on Y/n’s lap as an hour ago, she was looking through the papers just out of curiosity. Oswald did seem to be on the verge of drifting off to sleep. 

But after 40 or so minutes passed. They were now driving in a small town located at the edge of Oregon called ‘WallowDale’—which Y/n knew nothing about. Looking at the green welcome sign. It seemed like a pretty generic town, more so how Y/n would see it as from those cliche TV shows with the kids that lived in the small towns where everyone knew everyone. The town seemed peaceful and nice—the mountain's way in the distance gave such a serene atmosphere. 

“You think they have a diner down here somewhere? We should get something to eat.” She said to no one in particular. Oswald opened his eyes—he wasn’t sleeping, more enjoying the sound of the car driving down the road to replace the fact he was abruptly woken up in the morning, or, the afternoon to be correct.

Bendy heard Y/n and snapped from his train of thought from whatever he was thinking about.

“Yeah. I guess food sounds good right about now.”

-

Stretching, Y/n lets out a strained groaned, feeling relief of the tension leaving her legs, even though they only made it almost 4 hours in the car, she needed to stretch her legs. The soft wind traveled between her fingers and the sun coaxed her in its warmth. Looking ahead of her, Y/n looked at the small establishment—a family owned diner. 

“Wow, it looks nice in this town!” Oswald whistled as he took in the small Argo-town. It seemed a bit rural—yet a comfortable place to be.

One of the kids that were seated in the pavement watched as the five got out of the car. A look of awe ridden on his face. The chalk the kid was playing with slipped from his hand and onto the pavement. Toons—they were toons! He’s never seen them before! 

Y/n heard the kid gasp and she looked over at the kid to see his eyes glued on her four tooney friends.

“Is this a parking meter?” Bendy didn’t pay attention to the kid—as he didn’t see him, but had his focus on the parking meter. Oswald was standing next to Y/n—but had his attention still in his surroundings and Panchito and Donald were still talking.

The kid waved at Y/n once moving his gaze to her. She smiled at him and waved as well. The kid raised his chalky hands to his mouth and smiled bashfully. What a cutie.

“Okay, come on.”

-

Inside the diner, classic 50s rock music was heard. The smell of food—whatever was cooking wafted in the air and it smelled delicious! The AC was on, and it immediately cooled down Y/n and the others. Y/n could see the theme of the retro diner, some people were dancing by a jukebox, which caught her attention. She stopped walking and watched as at least 7 people were dancing by the jukebox fluently and gracefully! Some people in their booths and seats clapping along to the music and cheering the people. 

“Hm—impressive.” Oswald said. Panchito‘s feathers shook as he hopped from one talon to the other, dancing along with the music rather silly like. This caused Y/n to laugh, a smile widening.

“I like it here. It’s nice. Don’t you guys think?” She asks the four. Donald quickly nods. “I hadn’t heard about this town, but man isn’t this place snazzy.” He said. His eyes trailing over the details in the restaurant. 

“I agree.” Oswald agrees. Looking away from the people dancing and over to Panchito who just needed to move—dance. He took ahold of Y/n’s hands? Which caught her by surprise. But she did happily hop around with the rooster. Bendy looked away from the walls of old black and white pictures that caught his attention. Looking over at Panchito and Y/n dancing, a smile quickly appeared on his face.

Afterwards a stout man pushed the flappy doors open that led to the kitchen. He lets out a boisterous laugh, holding a silver serving player with a plate of food on it. He held a spatula and with that spatula he ringed a service bell.

“Jeremy! Your food is ready!” He shouts. Placing the plate on the counter. He must have been a chef as his white stained apron gave it away.

Y/n lets go of Panchito's hands once hearing the loud voice.

“Ay! Alex! The hot cakes are delicious!” Shouts at a customer. Alex—who Y/n assumed the chef's name was. Laughs and waved his head.

“Thank ya! Thank ya! Now—“ the room went silent as the majority of the diners' customers looked over at the chef, was he about to make an announcement?

“I’m glad you all are here fer’ me and my sweet gal’s anniversary! Ain’t that right, shnookums?” Alex placed a hand on the wall and gave it a love filled expression. Bendy gagged, causing Y/n to nudge him to shush him.

“This building brought me many memories! Fifty years everyone! Alex’s Diner!” The customers clapped and cheered for the owner—now that Y/n realized. Alex smiled and nodded at the annocumemt and the cheers.

“Thank you, thank you—and I—“ he immediately stopped talking when his eyes landed in Y/n and four others. An eyebrow raised at the group...were they..not supposed to be there? The eyes on them caused an anxiety to start bubbling in Y/n. Was this a private event? What happened?! Her fingertips went cold and immediately her throat went dry.

“May I help you all? Are you folks lost?” Alex asks. Y/n opened her mouth to speak. Her hands wringing around the straps of her book bag.

“Hi—I’m—we’re sorry. We wanted to eat something and leave, but if you all are having an event, we can just leave?” She didn’t want to make her statement sound like a question, but he did anyway.

“Did you all read the sign before coming’ in?” Alex asks, though his question sounds like a trick question. A hint of sarcasm in his voice? It was something!

Y/n gave a wavering smile. Grabbing Panchito by his wrist, Oswald by his wrist and grabbing onto Donald and Bendy’s tie, she started to back away, bringing them with her.

“Oh? So this is an event. We’ll be on our way then.” She quickly said—stupid move! Why didn’t she see it from the beginning instead of blindly walking in.

“No-no! Dear, come! Sit, I will serve you!” Alex waved a hand to beckon her over to the stool at the counter. Y/n stopped walking and felt a bit of relief.

“Your friends will have to wait outside though.” Was his catch. Y/n hands slipped from her friends. She glanced behind her, to see no one. Who was he talking to?

“Us?” Panchito asked. Pointing a thumb to his chest. Alex nods.

“Yes sir, In case you four toons hadn’t read—“ Alex reached behind the counter and pulled out a flip sign. A pale blue lining around the board and in black words read; ‘No Toons Allowed’

“What?!” Donald shouts abruptly. But, Alex nods. “Yep, but I can serve the young lady. Come sit, I’ll get you something, on the house, dear.” 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows...when was that a thing? And why was it allowed? That can’t be! It had to be his own store policy.

“This is your store policy?” Y/n asks. 

“Countrywide law. Just been accepted as a new optional choice for business owners like myself. Love it or hate it, it’s my rule. Now come sit.”

“No! She’s not sitting, Y/n, let’s go.” Donald took a hold of Y/n’s wrist and started to walk towards the door, but Oswald stopped Donald.

“No, she can stay and eat if she wants, she hasn’t eaten all day, we’ll be fine.” Oswald swatted Donald’s hand away from Y/n’s wrist. Which he lets go. Donald crumbled under his breath.

“Ay—girly. You gonna let these toons decide for you?” One customer asks. Y/n looks over to the customer. But ignores him. Bendy slightly nudged Y/n to

The door. “She makes her own decision just fine, thank you.”

“Bendy—no, if Y/n wants to eat here, then she can. Come on, we’ll wait outside.” Oswald said, once again nudging Bendy away, Bendy swatted Oswald’s hands.

“Ay! Keep yer’ hands off me, I already had to listen to Mr. Sal over here.” Bendy threw an insult at Alex. Which took note of. Alex raised an eyebrow and looked at Bendy.

“You got a problem with me, pal?” Alex crosses his eyes before eyeing Bendy. Bendy tsked and strolled over to the counter.

“All the problems, ya’ old geezer!” 

“Well shit..” Y/n muttered under her breath.

“Panchito! Do something.” Oswald whispered under his breath to the rooster. Panchito—didn’t seem to have a plan in mind. He’s never been in a situation like this before.

“Oh please? If I don’t want a couple of pencil strokes waltzing into my fine diner! Then I damn sure don’t one walking in, especially you demon look alike.”

“Hey!” Y/n shouts.

“Don’t talk to him like that!”  She glared at the owner. Alex looked at Y/n and squinted his dark eyes. “You lookin’ for trouble too, kid?” 

“You wanna get to her? You’ll have ta’ get through me. Pork. Chop.” Bendy points his gloved hand at Alex’s nose. The customers murmured in shock.

“Alright! Party’s over.” An accented voice shouts. Panchito, Oswald and Donald moved away from the entrance of the diner. A sheriff walked in. His boots and spurs clicking—for whatever reason he was wearing them..

The shades in his face was dark and he held a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. Donald panicked—Panchito—they almost forgot! He can’t be seen! Looking around quickly. Donald picked up an empty mop bucket and slammed in on Panchito’s head. Panchito wobbled almost dazed like at the sudden impact. The sheriff looked over. At Donald, who nervously smiled at him, leaning his elbow on the bucket that was on Panchito’s head as if he were casually leaning. 

“You toons heard the man. No service. Now scram unless you all want a free ride to the office.” The officer  told the group.

Y/n rubbed her clammy hands together and walked over to Bendy and grabbed him by his tie and dragged him away from the counter. Him and Alex staring each other down. They needed to leave immediately before that officer found out about Panchito and the book—which would be tough to do—but she felt that any officer would have eyes like a hawk that can find out just about anything.

Pushing the doors  open, strolling back outside. Y/n ran her hands through her hair.

“That was..that was something new.” She said. Walking over to the car and opening the passenger door. Bendy fixed his tie.  “When did that become a...thing.” He grunts. Hinting towards the new Policy. Or, law.

“Whatever it is, we need to be more careful and start reading, that’s for sure.” Donald said, taking the bucket off of Panchito’s head. Panchito blinked at the sunlight and lifted a hand to rub his head under his sombrero. 

“You toons got kicked?” Asked a voice. Bendy didn’t even bat an eye as he had his eyes closed, trying to think of a new place to eat at.

“Not now, Oswald…” Bendy muttered. Oswald slowly closes the car door once he opens it.

“I didn’t even say anything..” Oswald said. Y/n looks at Oswald and then Bendy.

“You heard that too?” Y/n asks. And Oswald nods quickly. “Me too.” Donald adds.

“Oh my g—-down here you Idiots!” Donald quacks and his hands quickly flew to his tail feathers. Quickly standing next to Y/n with an angry expression. “Hey! What’s the big I-“ he stopped in his track when he saw a small toon—a bird—a blue bird. Y/n squints her eyes. 

“You kinda look like the birdie in my neighborhood.” Y/n said. The bird nods. “That’s because I am sweet cheeks.” The bird—really packed a voice. His voice was much deeper than you would expect from a dainty little bird. Panchito gasped.

“Whoa? Have you followed us? What a cute litt—“

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Oswald told Panchito, his hands up to shield his face as if the bird would attack him instead of Panchito.

“Hey! What’re guys doin? Come on—we gotta hit the road.” Bendy walked around the car and

Looked at the four. Y/n motioned towards the blue bird. “Talking bird.” She told him. Bendy looked at her and turned  to look at the bird. The five standing next to each other as they all looked down at the bird.

“I’ll make this quick and easy! Alright, my name is BB, short for blue bird—thank the narrator.”

No no, thank you, Blue Bird.

“Who?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as she looked around for whoever the blue bird could have mentioned.

“Oooh! I was going to name my turtle that!” Panchito smiled. Oswald squinted his eyes before looking at Panchito.

“Where did that turtle go anyway?” He asks. Panchito deflates.

“Bendy threw him to the pound. mi corazón está triste…” Panchito sighs.

BB looked at the group and shook his head slowly...they all were so...silly.

“Never mind that.” BB said. But it didn’t stop there, Y/n raised her hand.

“You kinda sound like Samuel L. Jackson.” She said. Donald shook his head and tapped his beak.

“I was thinking more like Morgan Freeman.” Donald adds. Y/n then nods and lets out a laugh. The two snickered together. The bird whistles to catch their attention.

“Attention, please”

“Right, sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“Now, I’m your guide to help you. It may seem crazy. But I’ve been guiding you all this entire time—well. You all have been technically guiding yourselves, and I am so proud of this team of what it’s made. Especially the night when you three found each other.” BB looked at Y/n, Panchito, Bendy and Oswald. 

“So...you’re the book?” Panchito asks. BB shook his head.  “No, I’m not. The book is itself of course. I’m a piece of it. The navigator. Donald, that paper you received. I sent it to you. I’m soul bound to the book—-promised from the kings eons ago for when the day comes, this book will fall in the right hands with the right people. That being you five—and more to come. I’m no guardian, no knight, god, or anything—too much. I’m your helper. Your guide. Look at me as your personal GPS.” BB finishes. Y/n nods slowly—it made sense on how the sudden times the book would know where to locate everyone.

“So, you’ve been marking down the locations on the map?” Y/n asks BB. And he nods. “Correct.”

“I suppose you’re also responsible for when the book randomly flies off?” Bendy asks, yet he holds sarcasm in his tone. A lot of it. 

“No, the book has a mind of its own, use ya’ brain. Or do demon toons have any?”

“Hey!”

“So, we’re heading to Idaho now. That’s where it’s marked off for our next location. Do you have any information on who we were supposed to run into?” Donald tilts his head as he asks the question.

BB tapped his talon on the pavement. “I’m only here to help guide. That’s information you all will collect.” 

“Would you happen to have any info on what’s going on?” Y/n asks. And BB shook his head.

“Guys. I’m a navigator. I was only created for this purpose only. Anything outside of helping the people that wields that book to getting where they need

 To be, that’s outside my realm.” He said. And he seemed genuinely sure about it. But Y/n wasn’t complaining. They had a navigator. And that’s all that matters.

Oswald scoffed. “Wait, how do we know you’re telling the truth?” He asks. BB motioned towards Y/n, more her book bag.

“I’m in the book. You can read about me! Now!” BB flapped his wings? Lifting off the air and his talon snapped and that same golden trail, shot down the road.

“Idaho, off you go.” The bird took off to the sky. Oswald blinked slowly and the five of them looked at the sky and saw the bird flapping away. Y/n looked back at the street...yeah. That was more than enough information. 

-

Two figures were tossed into a cage. The metal clanking together as the gate was slammed closed and locked. 

“Just wait till boss see these bad boys..” a voice chuckled. A toon stood in front of the gate. Staring at the two captured toons. Their kidnapper had characteristics of an animal as the 2nd one also as well. 

The toon inside the cage shot up and and started banging on the bars—he took the bars in both hands and shook them.

“Let me outta here! I oughtta give you a piece of my mind!” Shouts the toon as his kidnappers sauntered off somewhere on the side of the room. 

“Hey, Doug. You think boss’ll give us a raise cuz Zip and Zot lost the rabbit?” Asked one of the kidnapper toons to his co-worker—Doug. Doug was busy dialing on a phone, a cigar placed on the side of Doug’s mouth.

“He damn sho’ betta’, i ain’t hunt these good for nothing’s down for no bread—and Jack—shut that toon up—I CAN’T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINK!” 

“Cuphead! Give it a rest!”

Ah yes, Cuphead and Mugman. The brothers that were always sewn to the hip. Always together, found themselves in a pickle…

Cuphead quickly turned around. His hands shot to his head. “Give it a rest?! We’ve been ‘napped Mugs—for some prissy uppity smoker—and his idiot side kick!” Cuphead shouts in anger. Mugman gave him a blank expression before blinking.

“You’re embarrassing me.”

Cuphead and Mugman stared at each other for a moment. Cuphead blinks. “What?! Mugs—I don’t have time for t—OW!” Doug grabbed a lot of Cuphead’s straw. Cuphead gagged as if he were choking and couldn’t breathe. Doug lifts the phone to his ear.

“Ay boss? How far are ya’ from downtown? We got your toons that witch told me about—a brand new one—-yeah—mmmhmm.” The kidnapper spoke on the phone and soon let go of Cuphead’s straw and walked Off to continue the conversation alone. Snapping his fingers at Jack—the second kidnapper. To watch

Cuphead and Mugman.

Cuphea gasped for air. Placing a hand in his chest. Mugman looked over at Jack. The...kidnapper wasn’t too on the bright side as he was..digging in his nose, not even paying attention to the two.

“Hello, sir?” Mugman calls out. Jack turns around and looks at Mugman—Cuphead gleaming at the toon.

“Hi, can you atleast tell us. Why are we here in this..” Mugman looked around the dim area, the spacious building resembled a warehouse.

“Warehouse? I presume?”

“Yuh.” Jack said. Mugman nods slowly.

“Why are we here?”

“Oh! Cuz boss needs y’all’s! He’s tryna plan sumn’ big! And the witch lady can feel people that a—-“

“Hey, ya big lug, shut up.” Cuphead told Jack...which he did…

Mugman glared at Cuphead.

“Why did you do that? He was gonna tell us something valuable and you went running your big mouth again, you nut!”

“Look at him—what makes you think he knows anything? I bet if you tell him to play under a beehive, he’ll do it! Look at him!” Cuphead and Mugman looked over at Jack, who was looking off into the spacious area. A small smile on his snout.

“Hey,  Jake?” Cuphead calls out. Jack looks at Cuphead and smiles. “It’s Jack.”

“Yeah, John. Anyway, when is your boss getting here?” He asks. But instead of Jack answering. Doug did. He stepped back into the room, arms behind his back with a menacing grin.

“He’ll be here soon. Very soon.”

There was silence...and then Cuphead spoke up.

“Okay good, because I guess I gotta speak to the higher ups to get it through you, and this idiots thick skull to let us go!!”

“Cuphead!”

-

A/n: this uh—took a longer time than I expected. Sorry. AND—sOrry the chapter is so long—I really hate short chapters, plus I have so much that I want to be seen in one chapter, But. I promise I’ll make it short in the future. I felt this character was as good as the first.

I’m sorry y’all don’t hurt me.

But! Hey, we got no characters! 😭

I do wanna say, I love the Butcher Gang. Especially Edgar. Such a delicate character.

But, I want to say thank you to all of you out there that commented and gave me support! Thank you!!! I did not expect this to go in anyone’s liking, and I am really surprised! So thank you!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

See you all in the next character. 😊

[gothighunicorntolerance]

Save the Moment- chapter 7

TW: Alcohol, implied abuse, self-deprecation

AO3

“Hey, Janus?” Patton tapped them on the shoulder.

They looked up from their lunch at Patton, who was fiddling with the straps of his camera- something Janus noticed he did when he was nervous. 

“So there’s the pep rally at the end of the day, and after that there’s like an after-party. I always go since I’m one of the cheerleaders, and I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

Janus was most definitely not one to go to parties, but on the other hand it would give them an excuse to get out of the house and be with Patton. They considered a moment before replying, “I’d love to. But- will anyone else I know be there?

“I don’t think so. Unless you know anyone on the sports teams or cheerleading? Remy Dormir or Emile Picani? They’ll be there. Virgil and Roman might come, but don’t count on it.”

Janus shook their head. “I know the names, but I don’t know who they are.”

“Emile is another cheerleader, and he’s dating Remy, who’s somehow on the football team. Remy is hosting,” Patton explained. 

“So they’re a stereotypical high school movie but gay?”

“Yup.”

The two of them laughed at the comparison. 

“So you’ll come?” Patton asked, still giggling. 

“Of course. But um, could you drive me? I can cook and I can spell, but I can’t drive,” Janus laughed, incapable of restraining themself from making a gay joke. 

“Of course. If anyone else comes we’ll all just carpool.”

“Designated driving dad?”

“I’m the only one at our table who can drive!”

The two of them roared with laughter. 

“So I’ll meet you after school? Our normal spot?” Janus asked as the bell rang.

“Yup,” Patton answered, picking up his bag. “I’m parked in the same spot as always.”

Janus nodded. “I’ll meet you there. Can’t wait!”

***

It was an hour after the pep rally had ended, and Janus’s ears were still ringing from the noise. Of course, it wasn’t all bad, as he got to clap for Patton, who was somehow thrown into the air and caught without becoming traumatized or gaining trust issues. One of the many mysteries of the world was how cheerleaders were so fearless when they could quite possibly die or become seriously injured if they weren’t caught properly. 

And Janus would be lying if they said they hadn’t gasped in fear for their boyfriend as they watched him get tossed into the air and do some flips. 

“Patton, how are you not terrified when you’re doing that?” They had asked Patton as the two of them walked to Patton’s car. He just shrugged in response, blushing a bit. 

When Patton pulled up to the street in front of Remy Dormir’s house, there were already several cars parked in a long row. Janus could hear music already blasting from inside the house. 

Patton slipped his hand into Janus’s, and the two of them opened the front door. Janus cringed at the noise, but walked in nonetheless when they saw Patton’s small grin. 

“Emile!” Patton shouted over the loud music. A boy with glasses and a Steven Universe shirt turned around to Patton and waved, walking over.

“Hi Emile! This is my partner, Janus,” Patton smiled. Janus could feel themself going pink when they heard Patton call them his partner. Why did that make them so happy?

“Hey Pat! Hi, Janus,” Emile stuck out a hand for Janus to shake, and they obliged. Apparently Emile was the only high schooler on the planet who still shook hands for introductions. 

“Hi,” was all Janus said. Emile seemed very nice, but the loud noise was already giving Janus second thoughts about agreeing to come with Patton. Janus didn't recognize any of the songs that were being blasted out of a large speaker, and they couldn’t decide if that made the noise better or worse. 

Janus found themself being guided by Patton to the kitchen, where Patton found a package of Oreos and grabbed it, smiling mischievously at Janus. 

“The perfect crime. These are our cookies now!”

“Ah, yes.” Janus rubbed their hands together like a Disney villain and let out an exaggerated evil laugh. “Stealing a package of Oreos is a terrible offense.”

Patton grinned and walked over to a punch bowl full of red Kool-aid. He took a Solo Cup and filled it with the red drink while Janus watched, making themself comfortable on the counter and ripped open the package of cookies. 

They handed one to Patton, who had already taken a large sip of Kool-aid. 

“Thanks-“ Patton hiccuped.  

Janus nodded, taking a handful of cookies. They were slightly stale, but did the job of taking their mind off of the noise. 

Janus had, apparently, disassociated while Patton socialized, because the next thing they knew, Remy, the host, was sitting on the counter next to them and kissing Emile. Janus averted their gaze. 

“Hey Janus-“ Patton hiccuped. “I looo-“ he hiccuped again. “I looove you!”

Janus turned to Patton, who had a goofy grin on his face and round glasses askew. 

“Pat? What-“ Janus suddenly paled as they realized what had happened: there had been alcohol in Patton's drink. They took a deep breath and slid off the counter, cringing as they smelled the alcohol on Patton. This couldn’t be happening- Patton was going to start yelling- Patton was going to grab his arm- 

They took a step back and closed their eyes for a minute.

“Patton, do you want some water? I’ll-“

“Earth! Fire! Air!” Patton shouted.

“Patton, what-“

“Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony, until the fire nation attacked!”

“Er, Patton? Can I call your mom?” Janus tried to stop Patton from drunkenly shouting the entire Avatar introduction monologue, and somehow it worked. 

“Yeah! Let’s go find my mom!” He giggled. Patton’s words were slurred, though Janus had, unfortunately, had practice listening to a drunk person when they were hard to understand. 

“Patton, I need your phone to call your mom. Where is it?” 

Instead of answering, Patton wrapped his arms around Janus in a tight hug. 

Janus stiffened, and even though they knew that it was only Patton, who would never hurt them, the stench of the drink was still overwhelming. Cautiously returning the hug, Janus fished Patton’s phone out of his back pocket- all their dabbling in sleight of hand had come in handy more times than they could count, and taking Patton’s phone was one of the easier things they had used the usual skill for. 

Janus pressed Pattom’s tumb to the home screen, unlocking it. They scrolled through Patton’s contacts, searching for someone marked “Mom” or “Mother” or something along those lines. They finally found Patton’s mom’s number, and with shaky hands, Janus pressed the call button. 

“Hello?” Patton’s mom answered after one ring.

“Mrs. Harte?”

“Janus, is that you? Are you alright?” Mrs. Harte’s tone was suddenly concerned.

“I’m okay, but, um, Patton and I are at a party-“

“The one at the Dormir house?”

“Yes, and, I think- I think the drink was spiked. And- Patton’s… drunk.”

Janus silently cursed. What if they got Patton in trouble for saying that? What if Patton’s mom never let Patton around Janus-

“Is he okay? I’ll come pick you both up. Go stand outside and give me the address. Stay on the phone, dear.”

Janus took a shaky breath and started to lead Patton outside, and, not at all to Janus’s surprise, it was like herding cats down a mountain while said cats were chasing balls of yarn in the complete opposite direction you wanted the cats to go. Namely, Patton wanted to stop and talk to every single person he knew, which seemed to be everyone. 

It was only when Janus finally managed to drag Patton out of the hot and suffocatingly loud party could they finally take a relaxed breath. Though that moment of relief faded when they saw Mrs. Harte’s car stopping in front of them. 

Janus braced themself for yelling, or accusations, or being left to find their own way back to their house. 

But instead, Mrs. Harte helped Patton into the car and told Janus to sit up front, all without raising her voice. Why wasn’t she angry? Why wasn’t she yelling? Or leaving Janus there? Why hadn’t she raised her hand?

Janus sat in the passenger’s seat, waiting for the inevitable. 

“Janus?” Mrs. Harte looked at them. There it was- now Janus would have to listen to her yell. 

“Thank you for letting me know. It’s not your fault, or Patton’s. I’m sure he didn’t drink underage on purpose, but a lot happens at teenagers' parties. But he’s fine, and you’re not in trouble. I’m glad you called me, Janus.”

Janus let out a breath of relief. Why was Patton’s mom so nice? They didn’t deserve it-

Patton spoke up from the back, interrupting their train of thought with a loud hiccup. “Mooom! Hiiii! Have you met Janus?” He grinned. 

Janus and Mrs. Harte looked at each other and laughed. 

‘Yes dear, I have,” Mrs. Harte replied. Turning to Janus, she asked, “Would it be alright if you stayed the night? It’s pretty late, and you look shaken.”

“Yes!” Janus blurted out. A night away from their father? And it was with Patton? Almost a dream come true!

***

    Mrs. Harte helped Patton out of the car as he stumbled, still giggling at random times. As a rabbit steamed across the lawn, Patton laughed and tried to chase it into the neighbor’s yard. Janus couldn’t help but chuckle as his mom pulled him out of the neighbor’s lawn and into the house. Patton’s house was just as cozy as Janus remembered, albeit a little messier. 

“Sorry about the mess, dear. The guest room is just down the hall to the left, with the bathroom next to it. Get yourself settled and I’ll get you some clothes to sleep in,” Mrs. Harte led Patton down said hallway, Janus following. They peeked into Patton’s room, and it was almost exactly how Janus imagined it would look- vintage polaroids hung on a string of fairy lights over a desk cluttered with yarn, a sweater draped over the chair. Patton’s bed was covered in a rainbow hand-knit blanket and held more pillows than Janus cared to count. Mrs. Harte was attempting to get Patto into said pile of pillows when he looked up and saw Janus standing there. 

“Jaaanus! Hi!! Have you heard that I love you? I love you!” Patton slipped around his mom and hugged Janus. They seemed to be getting a lot of hugs recently. Patton rested his head on Janus’s shoulder, leaning into them. 

Janus started at Patton’s mom, their face becoming redder as her smile grew wider. 

“Patton, Janus is going to be here tomorrow, too,” she again started the long process of convincing Patton to go to sleep. 

“Yeah, Pat. If you close your eyes, tomorrow will get here sooner, so you’ll see me again, okay?”

“Oh! Okay!” Patton stumbled past his mom and practically tripped face first into his bed. Patton’s mom took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand on top of a book. 

“Alright, Janus. Let’s get you settled. I’ll pick up donuts in the morning, but my wife should be home by then. She works the night shift at the hospital today.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Janus said as she turned out the light in Patton’s room.

When Janus woke the next morning, they thought it had all been a dream until they saw the unfamiliar bed and realized they were wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt from a 2018 pride festival. Pushing the blanket off them and then tiptoeing as quietly as they could toward the kitchen, Janus only had one train of thought. What would their father say when they got home? 

The thought was suddenly pushed from their mind when Janus saw Patton’s moms sitting at the kitchen table with a box of donuts. 

They gestured for Janus to sit down and join them. Pushing a paper plate with a couple glazed donuts on it toward Janus, Mrs. Harte smiled and asked, “how did you sleep?”

“I- great, thank you. Is Patton still asleep?” 

They both laughed, but Janus didn’t know what was so funny. 

“He’s going to have a horrible headache when he wakes up. I remember the first time we-” “Oh! It was terrible-”

Patton’s moms laughed together, and Janus suddenly felt a pang of envy. Patton’s parents were so in love with each other, and they wondered for a minute why they couldn’t have that. Janus’s mother had left them and their father, who barely tolerated them as it was. But if he found out Janus was gay? He would completely disown them. Not that it would be horrible, as Janus couldn’t wait until they could move out. But until then? Coming out couldn't happen. 

But Patton seemed to have been born out of the closet! He was so open about his sexuality and showed it at every opportunity. 

“Oh! Janus! I forgot to ask, do you drink coffee, and would you like some?” The other Mrs Harte- Janus wasn’t quite sure how to differentiate between which lesbian they meant by their last names- asked, shaking Janus from their thoughts. 

“Oh, yes please.” Patton’s mom brought over two mugs of hot coffee and milk, but Janus just picked up the mug placed in front of them, and without adding any milk or sugar, or even waiting for it to cool off a bit, took a sip. 

Both Mrs. Hartes, seemingly impressed, suddenly looked down the hallway and called out, “look who decided to wake up!

“What’s up, sleepyhead?” 

Patton came into the kitchen, his curly hair sticking up from every angle and glasses likely forgotten on his nightstand. He blinked rapidly, and groaned, “it’s too bright.” 

Bleary-eyed, Patton pulled out a chair and sat down, only then realizing that Janus was next to him. 

“Uh. Hi,” Patton hastily attempted to tame his bedhead. “I- sorry for… anything I did last night. I don’t remember anything that happened,” he shook his head. 

“It’s fine.” Janus replied, leaving out the fact that the alcohol fought back memories they would much rather forget. “You were actually kind of funny.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mrs. Harte said. “But Janus, what time do you need to be home? Is noon alright?”

“Yeah, noon is fine. Thanks,” Janus replied, absolutely not looking forward to going back to their house. 

Not seeming to notice Janus’s displeasure, somewhat glad she didn’t, Mrs Harte replied, “Great! Would you two like to watch a movie?”

“Yeah, just don’t have the volume too high. My head hurts..” Patton groaned. 

***

When the movie was finished, Janus was reluctant to leave the couch where they had settled with Patton under a handmade blanket and his head resting on their shoulder. But all good things must come to an end, Janus thought as they climbed into the passenger seat of Mrs. Harte’s car. The other Mrs. Harte (Janus still wasn’t sure what to call them) was staying with Patton to make sure he was alright. 

Janus didn’t talk much on the car ride, and, thankfully, Mrs. Harte didn’t push them to. 

When she pulled up at Janus’s house, she must have seen how worried Janus looked.

“Janus, you can call me any time,” she said, taking out a sticky note and pen from the glove compartment. “Here’s my number, and don’t be afraid to call me if something happens.”

She handed them the note with a phone number written on it, which Janus slipped in the pocket of their now-clean usual clothes. The unspoken word of “outed” hung in the air. 

“Thank you,” Janus said, getting out of the car. 

Taking a deep bath, they prepared  themself to walk through the door and see their father. When Janus walked in, they saw almost exactly what they expected. Their father stood in front of the fridge, beer in hand and scowling at them.

“Where have you been, boy!?” He shouted at Janus, not realizing how they cringed when he said “boy.” Janus wasn’t a boy, they were non binary! But they could never tell him that. The repercussions would be worse than intentional misgendering.

“I was at a party,” Janus said calmly, having rehearsed lines just in case something like this happened.

“All night! You were at a party the entire night!?”

“Yes, I was. I fell asleep at the house.”

There was just enough truth in the last line for him to believe it. Janus had simply changed “a” house to “the” house, and their father bought it. Those were the best kinds of lies- those with mostly truth, but a word or two changed just enough that everyone would believe it. 

He furrowed his sweaty eyebrows and said, “fine. But I don’t want to see you again for the rest of the day. There’s a game on, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Fine.” Janus had planned to do homework and take a walk, anyways.

“What did you say?”

“Yes, sir,” Janus plastered a fake smile on their face and walked to their bedroom. 

[sepublic]

If the characters of The Owl House had JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Stands, who would have which Stand? (Note: It can be from any part in the series, not just Part 3)

First off, I just want to say- THANK YOU, because The Owl House and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, two of my favorite things ever, in one ask? And I get to ANALYZE the two? This is a dream come true…!

I love Stands, not only for their unique designs and crazy abilities that can get weirdly specific, but also because they’re essentially a reflection of one’s soul, so they’re a great glimpse into a character’s personality! As someone who loves the characters from The Owl House, this is naturally a fun way to explore their psyche by assigning a Stand most compatible with them, White Snake-style!

I should preface that for this ask, I’m going to be using Stands from Parts 1-6. Unfortunately, I haven’t yet read Steel Ball Run, nor Jojolion; I plan to, and maybe on another day I’ll revisit this ask with updated information- Assuming that any of the new Stands I encounter and know about fit the characters more than the ones already assigned to them.

But with that out of the way… Here’s a list of characters and the Stands I’ve assigned to them- For fun, I’ve even gone over some minor named characters (although Bellows and Kikimora were left out due to there being too little to work with)! Some characters will have multiple Stands, if only because I couldn’t decide between some, or I felt like there were others worth considering. Lengthy explanations for my reasoning will be underneath the cut, as well as alternate Stand possibilities, even for those who I’ve already made a decision on!

(I’m going for best fits, not perfect ones)

Luz- The Cure

Eda- Sticky Fingers

King- Wheel of Fortune/Bad Company/Harvest/Little Feet/Weather Report

Hooty- Horus

Owlbert- Anubis/Stray Cat/Sex Pistols/Aerosmith

Willow- Strength

Gus- Hierophant Green/Emperor

Amity- Spice Girl

Lilith- Magician’s Red

Emira- Joy Division

Edric- Khnum

Boscha- Goo Goo Dolls

Mattholomule- The Lock

Bump- The Grateful Dead

Wrath- Bastet

Adegast- Judgement

Tibbles- Marilyn Manson

Bat Queen- Atom Heart Father

Starting off is Luz, the main character and personal favorite of mine! She was REALLY difficult to figure out… I considered multiple options for her, such as Crazy Diamond, Gold Experience, Heaven’s Door, Bohemian Rhapsody, etc. Ultimately however, I decided to go for a rather obscure Stand, one from the light novel Golden Heart, Golden Ring- The Cure. To put it simply, The Cure, well… Cures people by absorbing wounds and injuries, becoming bigger before eventually dissipating the accumulated hurt. I feel like this reflects greatly Luz’s very kind, almost healing nature- She helps provide Eda with a greater sense of found family, she helps ‘fix’ Willow’s situation and self-esteem, as well as Amity’s own insecurity and loneliness, etc. Not only that, but Luz also has a lot of thematic similarities with The Cure’s user, Coniglio- Coniglio is heavily associated with Alice from Alice in Wonderland.

The character of Alice is led into a new, magical world by a small creature she later befriends, and gets into trouble with the local law- Just like Luz. Coniglio herself was ostracized when she was younger, being called a Witch, which fits Luz’s initial loneliness, and of course her eventual aspirations. Coniglio is an inexperienced Stand User when we meet her, just as Luz is still learning magic. Finally, Coniglio learns to control and tame her stand, which takes the form of a rabbit- Luz is associated with small animal sidekicks, such as King or Owlbert. However, The Cure can also turn into a more monstrous form and become berserk, which in its own way mirrors Luz’s relationship with Eda, and how she has to calm her mentor and revert her back the way Coniglio did.

For a more canon option, there’s also The Sun. We don’t really know anything about is user, Arabia Fats- The most we can glean is that he’s clever, but he can also rely on dumb ideas. Likewise, his Stand is incredibly powerful, but provides almost nothing to defend him. If one goes by the Tarot meaning, however, The Sun is associated with good times, with fun and optimism, all that stuff! It’s about someone who still maintains childlike wonder… and that sounds like Luz! She’s kind, bright, and in a lot of ways a ‘light’ to others’ lives, which is also supported by her name’s literal translation!

Continuing on Tarot meanings, we can also go for The Fool- It’s about being adventurous, of starting a new journey. There’s some freedom, but also a bit of carelessness, which reflects how Luz didn’t quite fully think through her actions in the beginning of Episode 1, or her plan in Episode 3. The Fool is a bit of an outsider compared to the rest of the Arcana, which fits Luz’s outsider status as a human who somehow goes Magic anyway. And like The Fool, Luz can be somewhat unpredictable and unusual, at least to those who know her- She’s kind of a cryptid to them, what with having confetti in her pockets at all times(?) and casually revealing that she knows the infamous Bat Queen.

For Eda, I chose Sticky Fingers- Someone else on Twitter mentioned it, I don’t remember who… But they analyzed a few of the Stands of Part 5, and during their analysis they discussed how Sticky Fingers is symbolic of Bruno’s ability to connect with others, making his own path to them, zipping them together, etc. Bruno Bucciarati is a mom with a found family, which I feel suits Eda’s personality. Likewise, they’re both criminals, who willingly left a prestigious organization despite their talent and the powerful role they could’ve had in the group, as a result of moral disagreements with its ideals and leader. Plus, Sticky Fingers is a term that refers to people who like to steal, and we know from Covention that Eda is a notorious pickpocket!

On the other hand, Weather Report is also neat. It’s associated with a character dealing with memory loss, which fits Eda’s schtick and character a whole lot, what with not remembering who cursed her. Likewise, Weather Report (the user) has a brother, Enrico Pucci; The two used to have a more complex antagonism, although by Stone Ocean it’s a lot more straightforward. Still, this kind of complex sibling relationship also works with Eda and Lilith, and with Weather Report being a ridiculously powerful Stand (just as Eda is the strongest Witch), I feel it also works for her character, personality, and motifs.

King is the most interesting and diverse scenario for me. I’ve considered Wheel of Fortune for him; Both rely on an outside force, a pre-existing thing, in order to function. Likewise, Wheel of Fortune’s power is proportional to the user’s confidence, which fits with how King talks big about himself. Its user, ZZ, also made a big deal of talking himself up, being a lot of bark in order to build up his confidence… However, the moment things begin to fall apart, his confidence wanes and he basically runs away. His powers diminish, and he becomes all bark and no bite. This kind of sounds like King- Obviously there’s more courage to him than with ZZ, but generally speaking, the concept of a character who’s in over their head and operates a lot on building up their self-confidence, only for it to collapse as soon as things go wrong, fits with King.

On another hand, Harvest and Bad Company fit King’s whole desire to lead massive armies, and his claims of having been a King of Demons. Having a Colony Stand that acts as his personal army of loyal followers and soldiers fits almost perfectly; Bad Company is more militarized, representing King’s grandiose aspirations for power, and him becoming a Drill Sergeant in Episode 11 definitely helps this. It’s also associated with a lost childhood, which… King is kid-coded and he doesn’t seem to be necessarily missing out on anything, but the idea is still there. However, Harvest is less deadly, having a more animalistic appearance, being cuter, and having an inclination towards theft that King himself also does. Plus, King seems like the kind of person who’d use Harvest to carry himself across the sidewalk, let’s be real here!

Finally, I’m considering Weather Report as an option, if only because of the fan theory going around (which I’ve dabbled in) about King having once been the Boiling Isles Titan, or at least an ACTUAL King of Demons… Part of the theory speculates that he lost his memories, which fits into Weather Report’s arc. It’s about a hidden potential, that when rediscovered, can be outright terrifying. Little Feet also works with King’s Napoleon Complex.

King is an interesting character to assign a Stand to, in part because there’s a lot we actually don’t know about him, and the mystery surrounding him as a result. I feel like we once we learn more about King’s backstory and who he is, we may get a better idea of what Stand most fits him.

Horus was assigned to Hooty, not only because of his bird motif, but also because the Egyptian God Horus is seen as a protector, just like the Stand’s user Pet Shop, who acts as Dio’s main guard for his mansion; Likewise, Hooty is the Owl House’s primary security system, and ‘state-of-the-art’ no less. Not only that, but… To get into some heavy theorizing here, @fermented-writers-block has speculated that Hooty may or may not have connections to a hypothetical ‘Owl Deity’, of which we see a mural of in Episode 1. To put it as simply as possible, Hooty is either a manifestation of this Owl Deity’s power, OR the Owl Deity itself; And if so, then assigning Hooty a stand named after a major Egyptian God seems all the more appropriate. Additionally, Pet Shop himself has a helmet typically used to restrain birds of prey, and Hooty himself usually needs to be ‘restrained’; Either told to stop his cryptic riddles and just give straight-forward answers, or kept from tearing apart a canvas.

Also, if that one MSN article mentioning a labyrinth below the Owl House is true, then Hooty could also have Tenore Sax; It’s a Stand that manipulates the environment, and was used to make Dio’s Mansion look like a maze. It’s about control of one’s environment, which makes sense given how Hooty controls the Owl House itself. Hooty could also have Mr. President, as it’s a Stand wielded by an animal that provides a safe environment for others to live in- Befitting of Hooty’s role as the Owl House.

Owlbert is a bit weird, in that he’s already wielded by others; Still, he’s a part of the family, so I feel obligated to include him. Off the top of my head are a couple of considerations- There’s Anubis, which exists as a sword that can be wielded physically by the user and even others, outliving its user- That fits Owlbert’s capabilities and role as a Palisman to a staff! Stray Cat is also an option, because like Owlbert it’s an animal that’s born of plant-matter and associated with the air, albeit through air bubbles.

Sex Pistols is a Stand that needs care and attention, just like Owlbert, and also has its own personality. Likewise, the Sex Pistols support and enhance the ability of another, pre-existing tool, just as Owlbert enhances Eda’s magic and helps her focus it through her staff. Finally, we have Aerosmith- They’re both free-flying, but also very powerful and capable, and not to be underestimated. Like King, there are plenty of options for him that all fit in their own ways.

Willow was a fun topic, and ultimately for her, I’m gonna go with Strength. Ignoring its user, Strength is a stand that recognizes and unlocks the hidden potential of just about anything it finds, no matter how innocuous; Willow is a character who is meek and shy, but contains a hidden power and talent that is legitimately powerful. Strength is an incredibly powerful stand, upgrading a regular boat into an entire shipping freighter; Willow is able to turn a seed into an entire garden of powerful, thorny vines. They involve nurturing power and helping it grow. Plus, most depictions of the Strength Tarot Card involve a woman taming a lion- And I think that kind of works with how Willow may seem all gentle, but she controls and tames powerful plant-monsters. Also, a recent drawing by Dana seems to confirm that Willow is canonically buff, so that works too, alongside the Tarot’s additional meaning of controlling oneself, as Willow does with her anger!

There is also the minor consideration of Purple Haze, given that Willow has genuine frustration in her that can manifest as real, powerful rage. However, Purple Haze also explicitly hurts and shoves others away, which Willow doesn’t do- She’s kind and open and is already good friends with Gus by the time Luz appears. Gold Experience is also a very viable option, given its power of creating life and facilitating growth- However, I decided to go with Strength, not only because of the additional symbolism of hidden potential (which matches Willow’s initial, unrecognized talent), but also because of the symbolism of the tarot card. And also, Gold Experience is a main character Stand and already a pretty obvious option, so trying something a bit more unique seemed interesting.

Gus is another VERY hard one for me, like with King- It’s not that I don’t get his personality, it’s just that there are plenty of Stands that I feel could match him. For example, we’ve got Hierophant Green- Its user, Kakyoin, was lonely and is also an excellent student. He desired friends, which he got through the Stardust Crusaders- Similarly, Gus himself is talented but also expresses loneliness over being younger than everyone else, with part of his motivation for forming the H.A.S. to make friends and also provide support for others who’ve gone through the same experience. Likewise, Gus may not have the raw power that his other friends have, but he’s still plenty clever himself, like Kakyoin.

There’s also Emperor; The tarot meaning discusses a person who takes a leadership role, and its reverse is losing control of that leadership, as well as poor decision-making. This relates well to Gus’ conflict in Episode 9; Likewise, Emperor’s user is Hol Horse, who prefers to be Number Two and is aware of his own flaws, not desiring the spotlight. Gus himself states in Episode 6 that he knows what he’s about, not at all concerned that Luz doesn’t consider him as strong as Eda or Willow- He doesn’t particularly seek attention or glory. Gus is happy and content with being a ‘Dweebus’ and embraces it alongside his supporting role, like Hol Horse. Also, the kid wears a crown when he’s in charge of the H.A.S., and that’s something I really want to incorporate with his Stand’s symbolism!

On a lesser note, there’s also Kiss- It’s a Stand that makes doubles of things, and Gus has an affinity for Illusion spells that can create copies of him, tangible or otherwise. Dolly Dagger from Purple Haze Feedback is wielded by Vittorio, who is the child of his group, and represents him not being ready to handle a lot of the responsibility placed upon him; Just as Gus struggles with control over the H.A.S., as well as the isolation that comes from being a talented student who’s younger than the rest and not taken seriously.

King, Owlbert, and Gus are definitely a dilemma to me… There’s plenty you could assign to either of them, and I feel I’ve only scratched the surface of Gus’ potential Stands. The dude has range and potential, so it’s hard for me to decide given how my options are ultimately limited and usually specific.

For Amity, I went with Spice Girl. Spice Girl is a manifestation of Trish’s psyche, and her whole character involves putting up a hardened, mean, stoic façade in order to hide how scared and vulnerable she feels; A lot like Amity, who tends to push people away because of her loneliness- She mentions not wanting to show ‘weakness’. Like Amity, Trish learns to be strong in her own way, in a way that can still be soft, while incredibly strong and resilient; A form of kindness and personal growth that manifests literally through Spice Girl’s ability to make things soft yet virtually indestructible. Amity hasn’t quite completed her character arc, but she’s made major steps towards it by opening up to Luz and learning to be nicer. So, Spice Girl it is!

There’s also Purple Haze- Fugo and Amity are both high-performing students with a lot of pressure on them, who deal with genuine frustration over their situation. Purple Haze’s ability forces others away lest they get hurt, representing Fugo’s paranoia over his childhood trauma, and how he ends up ‘pushing’ the others away when he chooses not to go on the boat. However, Purle Haze doesn’t fit as well the way Spice Girl does, because Purple Haze represents a genuine rage and anger boiling within Fugo… Whereas Amity, while she IS frustrated, doesn’t seem to have particular fury, being more inclined towards insecurity and loneliness.

Lilith was assigned Magician’s Red. I looked into the meaning of the Magician Tarot card, and to sum it up simply, it’s about having talent and seeking out success. Our first appearance of Lilith has her making a demonstration to a bunch of young, impressionable Witches, flaunting her own talent and success, and appealing those traits to her audience, explaining that Witches who join the Emperor’s Coven are the most powerful and highest-ranking of them all. Likewise, she also has an eye for talent, nurturing the skills and abilities of Witches such as Amity. Plus, there’s also the symbolic relevance of her having a Stand with magic in its name, as well as one with a bird-like appearance; Fitting given her White Raven symbolism, and association with the Emperor’s Coven and its bird motifs. And like the user Avdol, Lilith also has a bit of a flair for flashiness.

Like Luz, Emira was tricky in that I couldn’t quite find a Stand that suited her, so I’ve gone with my next-best option; Joy Division, another very obscure Stand, from the same light novel as Luz’s assigned Stand. Joy Division switches objects around, which mirrors what Emira did to the librarian and Gary in her debut. It’s a Stand that’s perfect and ideal for her kind of mischief and clever tricks. Likewise, its user, Sogliola, has wealth, prestige, and status as a Capo in Passione- Emira herself is a member of the presumably wealthy and high-status Blight family.

As I mentioned earlier, Edric is also tricky in that I didn’t find a Stand that quite suited what personality we’ve seen from him. Ultimately, I settled on one good for mischief, Khnum- It’s a Stand that allows one to change their appearance, which fits Edric’s Illusion spells and that one spell he used to make himself look a lot more extravagant. Khnum’s user, Oingo, is also not exactly the brightest, and he’s associated with a close sibling that he’s always beside, who also has a Stand- Which can match Edric’s relationship with Emira.

I’m also considering Jail House Lock; It’s great for tricking and mentally messing with people by making them forget things and become confused, befitting Edric’s mischievous nature. Also, it making people forgetful can sort of connect to Edric being dumb in his own way, I guess- I dunno. I feel like Emira and Edric’s Stands don’t have a particularly deep connection to them individually, in part because there’s not much we’ve learned yet to differentiate the two, and the issue of finding Stands that fit, while trying to avoid repeating them for characters unless as a potential possibility. It is worth noting that Jail House Lock’s user, Miu Miu, has power and status- Another thing one can associate with the Blights.

Boscha got Goo Goo Dolls. The Stand is a reflection of the user’s possessive personality over their ‘friends’, treating them more like toys or pets to be bossed around with and told what to do. Boscha has a bossy nature, as seen with how she treats one of her friends in Episode 8, and likewise she is somewhat possessive of them- When King gets their attention, Boscha is clearly focused on getting back her control of the situation. Nothing is saying she can’t get along with King and he didn’t explicitly exclude her from the fun, but Boscha nevertheless chose to heighten the conflict. And of course, she initially meets King and wants to buy him as a pet, befitting Gwess’ desire for ‘pets’.

I’ve also considered Bad Company for her, for a few mostly speculative reasons. To sum it up shortly, I suspect that Boscha may have a bad situation at home, where an incompetent mother is relying on Boscha for emotional support, forcing her to essentially ‘grow up’ and be the responsible one in charge. Bad Company represents a childhood that is missed out on due to an inadequate parent that the user ends up having to look after, and likewise, it involves telling others what to do; Also something Boscha likes. However, because this is mostly speculative, I’m just going to have to go for Goo Goo Dolls for now.

Mattholomule has The Lock. Initially I considered Surface, but ultimately I went with The Lock because unlike Hazamada, Mattholomule doesn’t seem to have any particular envy towards Gus nor does he want to be him, insteading having a general desire for power and drama. The Lock reflects how he tries to garner sympathy from the other members of the HAS when his plan begins to backfire on him; It’s a Stand that’s entirely reliant on others’ perception and pity/guilt for the user.

Similarly, it’s otherwise pretty powerless, which goes along with Mattholomule’s general incompetence and failure in most facets of life. The Lock is either relinquished by the user’s command, if the victim no longer feels guilty, and/or if they’re given ‘reparations’ for the ‘damage’ they received- Mattholomule is all about getting status and whatnot. Also, The Lock functions as a Lie Detector, which can make sense with how Mattholomule lies for his own personal gain.

Principal Bump has The Grateful Dead. The stand’s user, Prosciutto, is someone who takes an older and more experienced mentor role, just like Bump. Likewise, Prosciutto is willing to do harsh things to someone underneath his tutelage, but ultimately he still takes his leadership role very seriously, wants to get the job done, and genuinely has it in his best interest to see the person he apprentices unlock their hidden potential. Bump may have extreme methods such as his Trouble Detectors and even brainwashing kids in detention, but ultimately he’s genuinely invested in the future success of his students, and will even break the law for their sake and that of a human, a total stranger.

It’d seem obvious to give Wrath a stand like Jail House Lock (given its user, Miu Miu, is also a warden), but in terms of personality, I ultimately went with Bastet. Bastet is defined by creating attractions, and is associated with electromagnetism- Which itself doesn’t just pull things together, but repelsthem as well. Bastet’s user, Mariah, is attracted to Dio because of how powerful he is, among other traits. Wrath is attracted to Eda, letting his attraction override his own duties as a Warden because he thinks the two of them will make a Power Couple; Both him and Mariah want to go big, or go home! Bastet lures targets in through their curiosity, Wrath lures in Eda by having King’s Burger Queen crown… Finally, while this is never expressed by Bastet itself, the theme of magnetism also relates to repellingforces. And Wrath is clearly repelled by the abnormal, seeking to contain the deviants of society, and is easily disgusted by something as simple as a raspberry because of the potential germs it could spread.

As an alternative option, there IS Planet Waves- Its user, Viviano Westwood, is a guard at a prison. He’s a cruel, brute-force jerk whose Stand allows him to physically overpower and smash through most obstacles and foes, and he deliberately looks down on prisoners as the ‘scum’ of society, taking delight in abusing his position to torment them. These all sound a lot like Wrath, so if one feels like Bastet doesn’t adequately capture his personality, there’s always Planet Waves as an alternative.

Adegast was given Judgement, for obvious reasons- It’s a Stand that toys with a victim’s heart and plays on their desires. That’s literally what Adegast does- Plays on Luz’s desires to be deemed special, to live out her fantasy, only to cruelly tear it away at the last second and mock her for it. Both his illusions and Judgement’s clay constructs dissolve into dust. And while Judgement is physically powerful, contrasting with Adegast’s incredibly frail body, the cowardice of Cameo pairs well with Adegast’s nature.

For Tibbles, I briefly entertained Osiris and Atum, especially Osiris given its association with card games (and Tibbles is good at Hexes Hold ‘em), and the idea of gambles in general. Ultimately however, I stuck with Marilyn Manson, which operates on a similar basis of the user winning a game and utterly defeating the loser as a result. Marilyn Manson is special in that it prioritizes material wealth, aiming to reap money or anything else of similar value; Which fits into Tibbles being a greedy capitalist who acts like he owns King and takes him without either his nor Eda’s consent, just as Marilyn Manson can be used to steal a Stand Disc that was never disclosed as part of the arrangement.

Finally, the Bat Queen was given Atom Heart Father. She was another difficult person to assign a Stand to, but ultimately I decided on Yoshihiro Kira’s stand. I get that there’s irony of Atom Heart Father having a paternal name, compared to the Bat Queen’s maternal status, but just bear with me for a moment. Like the Bat Queen, Yoshihiro is a parent, but he’s one who has concern for the person he’s looking after, to the point where his attempts to protect that person can be overall detrimental to that actual person’s growth; In this case, his son Yoshikage.

The Bat Queen has taken it upon herself to look after a LOT of discarded, rejected Palismans, among them Owlbert. However, in her concern for their plight and any pain they might go through, the Bat Queen has unfortunately projected some of her views on Witches a bit; When Owlbert wants to reunite with Luz, she interferes on his behalf, believing she knows best. The Bat Queen wants to do what’s best, what’s ‘safest’ for Owlbert, but in reality she’s only hurting him in the long run. Thankfully, Owlbert is able to stand up for himself, and the Bat Queen listens to reason.

[emilyplaysotome]

The Game of Love - Chapter 1

Since I have a bad tendency to obsess over what I write until I give up on it, I’m posting the first chapter of something new I’ve been dabbling with. Think of it like an original Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole, without the characters you know.

Meeting someone special is hard for anyone, but more so when you’re famous.

I can’t tell you when it was that I went from being Hana to being Hana on a billboard, but it happened slowly enough that I went from eating virtually unnoticed at a restaurant to being bombarded with selfie requests during the short time I picked up my food. I suppose that being one of the youngest women to ever win a Grand Slam will force you into the spotlight, but I’ve never thought of myself as a superstar.

The goal had always been to win gold at the Olympics.

Maybe Roland Garros.

And Wimbledon.

The U.S. and Australian Open if I was lucky.

They never told me that if you win the Australian Open and then manage to win the others in the same year, the world goes mad. They never told me that Nike, Adidas, and Reebok fall all over themselves trying to get you to agree to let them put out the “Hana shoe” and you go from being a struggling journeywoman on the tour to being richer than you ever could have imagined, thanks mostly to your team who milks you for every free moment when you’re not on the court.

You learn how to wear dresses and talk on camera and carry the weight of what it means to be a champion, constantly looking over your shoulder at the younger, hungrier crowd behind you that works twice as hard and trains harder because they don’t need to be on Good Morning America when you do. Your identity becomes “Hana the Tennis Champion” and you forget who you were when you were just “Hana, the girl who loves tennis” – hitting balls after dinner with dad on the courts by your house or joking around with the girls on the junior tour.

Those girls become competition, and your friendship is forced to change despite wanting it to be the way it was when things were simpler. They are nice and you love them, but the feelings are complicated and you forget what it means to have friends who see you as you are. There is always a commitment, a show, a movie, a project, a product – even during the off season, and of course, there’s the training.

You’re grateful to be successful doing what you love, but you know it can’t last forever and one day you decide you want to go out on top and announce that you’re done with the game that up until this point has been your entire life.

And you’re only 32.

I’m only 32.

The day after I retired I woke up as Hana, for the first time in 20 years. I suppose it’s out of habit that I still wake up at 7 A.M. and go for a run, but it’s been a few months and not much has changed.

My mom suggested I get a therapist.

That this major transition would be hard on anyone, but even harder on a prodigy who has been used to a regimented training schedule since she was 11.

I laughed it off, but after a couple of weeks I could feel the unease nagging at me, mocking me, asking me, “Who is Hana if there is no tennis?”

My therapist says a lot of high achieving people struggle with their self-worth outside of their profession. She challenged me to reconnect with friends I’d made at all stages of my life and I learned that being great at one thing left little time for love, creativity, music, and hobbies.

I also learned that I didn’t make many friends in my 32 years since I was too focused, too dialed in to waste time on anything outside of the goal. To be the best in the world I had taken on the mentality that everything outside of my goal was superfluous, but now I struggle to make it through the day.

“Who is Hana if there is no tennis?”

“I am…I am…”

“What are you feeling Hana?” my therapist asks.

“Scared. Confused. Angry. Lost.”

I’d had this rosy image of retirement, where I’d leisurely wake up next to a partner and make breakfast for us. Not just any partner if I’m being honest…him.

“I wake up at 7 A.M. and run 5 miles,” I find myself saying. “Then I make a breakfast smoothie. And then I remember that I don’t have anywhere to be and the depression takes over.”

“Have you been doing interviews?”

I shrug, “Not as many. They asked me to do commentary for the U.S. Open this year and I said I’d think about it.”

“What is your hesitation?”

I pause, thinking about what it would be like to live a tournament without participating in it. To see and comment on someone’s legacy that wasn’t my own. To one day have to announce that I’d been dethroned in my achievements and smile as if it didn’t bother me, when I’d probably just wonder if I’d retired too early.

“I never wanted to be on television. And I want to be able to answer the question who Hana is if there is no tennis.”

“It sounds like this time is providing you with a beautiful gift – to explore that question and your interests without limitations.”

She’s right, and I feel guilty for pitying myself when I have the freedom to do and go wherever I want. I let out a caustic chuckle and say, “I want to live in my games.”

“The ones you used to play on the road?”

I nod, wondering how serious she thinks I am and wondering if the statement is a joke at all.

“Why do you think you like them so much?”

“It’s fun to be someone who isn’t Hana. And it’s fun to fall in love.”

“Has Hana ever been in love?”

I think for a minute and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?” I ask.

She shrugs and pushes her glasses up.

“I’m asking Hana the person, not Hana the superstar.”

“But our breakup was all over the tabloids…”

“Our time together is about you, not what’s in a tabloid.”

“Superstars have to date superstars. It’s like a law,” I say laughing. “What would Instagram think if I gave them anything other than aspirational?”

I’m lying but I can’t help myself, even in therapy my pride gets in the way of being honest. Dating him was never about appearances, at least, it wasn’t for me.

“Tell me about him.”

Eight years of memories flash in my mind, 22 to 30.

“We met after I won my first major. His movie premiere had him in Australia and he got tickets to the final. We ended up at an after party together and he gave me his number. It was good until it wasn’t and then he broke up with me.”

“That’s a very condensed version.”

I shrug again, feeling bitter that he seems to have moved on just fine and I haven’t dated anyone despite the rumors that pop up from time to time. I don’t feel like talking about how I kept pushing for us to move forward, with a vision for my retirement and life with him as he kept pushing for me to stay on the road. I don’t feel like talking about how much of our time was spent apart and how I suspected he preferred things that way.

That it was better to have a girlfriend too busy to take up more than an hour of his day on a regular basis than a girlfriend who could be present the way she wanted to be when we were together.

A pleasant chime goes off and she silences the alarm, noting we’re out of time and asking if next week works.

“My schedule is free,” I joke, but I feel annoyed that there’s nothing but endless free time and nothing to do with it.

When I’m home I open the games I referenced in therapy – the ones I jokingly call “choose your anime romance adventure games” with my mom versus their proper designation of “otome” games, as they’re known with the fandom online that I’m a part of. It’s only when I’m online that I feel like I can momentarily answer the question that nags at me, and that’s because no one know I’m me.

HanaLovesOtome the tumblr user is popular because of the screenshots she posts, not because she’s one of the most celebrated athletes of a generation.

She participates in every event and has spent an ungodly amount of money on special date stories and lottery gatcha items that put her consistently in the top ten featured users of Ikemen Inc.

She’s popular because people will ask her to purchase stories and games they can’t afford, and she’ll video record herself playing or twitch live stream the sessions so everyone can get a sense of what it’s like to fall in love with Ikemen Inc.’s most exclusive bachelors.

Even when I was on tour, I loved playing otome games because for a couple of hours I could stop thinking about my life and instead lose myself in a world overseas where I get to make choices for a protagonist whose name I’ve made my own as I decide what eligible bachelor she’ll fall in love with.

I’d found the games a year before we’d broken up, mostly by chance after seeing an ad on twitter that boasted, “The Perfect Boyfriend is in your phone - meet him now!” While normally I would have continued to scroll past, something about the caption had stopped me in my tracks. Looking back it was probably because the idea of the “perfect boyfriend” being in my phone was ironic having had such a drawn out long distance relationship in which it often felt that he only existed in my life virtually.

After entering my name for the main character I would be controlling, “Decoding His Affections” thrust me into a world that consisted of a simple illustrated background, paired with a cartoon character sprite whose various expressions matched the dialogue being said in the text box where the story played out.

While the prologue of “Decoding His Affections” was free, it ended with a prompt asking me who out of the five characters I’d just met, I wanted to get to know as my Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department partner and future perfect boyfriend. For the low price of $3.99, I could purchase one of five options and determine how my protagonist would fall in love. Depending on my dialogue selections, I was either granted a “Love Ending!” or a less desired “Happy Ending!”

Throughout the course of 13 interactive chapters, Sebastian went from being my underling, to my partner, and finally, to my boyfriend. As the protagonist with my name started to fall for Sebastian, I found myself enjoying the escape from my reality with a game “self” who always met with a positive response in love.

I soon found myself lost in a world where I could be transparent with my intentions without any fear of rejection. Sebastian clearly liked my main character back, but was conflicted about falling for a woman whose time in Tokyo had an expiration date. Even though their relationship was in a grey zone for the majority of the game, he was always warm, always loving, and most importantly, had responses that gave me butterflies as I read his poetic musings from a cold hotel room after a long day of training.

Seeing as how these games were a product of Japan, in addition to the subdued romance I also found myself getting a kick out of the cultural differences that were peppered throughout the story. Simple gestures such as the time that Sebastian grabbed her hand in order to protect her from an impending explosion, resulted in a shook inner monologue where my heroine wondered if her heart was racing from the danger, or because of the physical contact. There was something sweet about this world in which men and women shared a shyness around physical touching that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced as a Western woman. Handshakes, hugs, and even kisses on the cheek were something that happened in my life on a daily basis, yet I was suddenly living in a world via my phone where every gesture was laced with romantic subtext.

It was clear that the only thing Ikemen Inc. changed in their games was the names of their clearly Japanese love interests, in order to better appeal to a western audience. Other than that, their games remained true to their point of origin.

Looking back, our relationship was already strained with me hinting towards my expiration date and him pushing me to stay on the tour. The day I’d played my first otome game we were bickering over text about it, him convinced it would be better for both of us if I refocused on my career instead of settling down with him in his Calabasas home. As I achieved Sebastian’s coveted “Love Ending!” thanks to my carefully selected dialogue choices, I surprised myself by tearing up in which I read an ending where Sebastian confessed to me, or moreover the woman I whose life I was intermittently controlling, his undying love.

I’d felt a bit foolish at the time, having fallen prey to simple plot devices and romantic tropes, however Sebastian had done something for me that my relationship could not.

He’d managed to touch that part deep in my heart that still wanted to believe that romance was possible in this world, and more importantly, was possible for me.

In the weeks to come I found myself leaning on these games more and more as it became clear that my vision for the future did not align with his, it felt like every free second I was pouring myself into my fantasy life. By the time he ended things, I’d made way through the entire Ikemen Inc. catalogue of premium games and started to make my way into the exclusives with a higher price point, more beautifully illustrated scenes (CGs), and the Ikemen Inc. community leaderboard.

I play them a lot lately.

Maybe too much.

When I log in to my tumblr I see a message from my friend KittyGirl.

OMG Hana! Did you see they released Tyler Holland?

I saw and I played and I’m posting the full vid on twitch later ;)

…

I wonder who KittyGirl is as she types, and I wonder if she ever wonders who I am. I wonder if she would care if I was Hana the superstar or if she even follows tennis.

A lot of the girls on here don’t.

A lot of the girls on here are much younger than I am.

I wonder if it’s weird I don’t have many friends my age and that the people I feel closest to at the moment are all usernames in my feed.

STOP HANA YOURE THE BEST!

I smile because it gives me a sense of purpose and I haven’t felt that for some time.

It’s really good. He might be in my top 5 boyfriends.

NO. Really!?

Really.

Sometimes I wish that the men in my phone would come to life. That one day I would wake up and Sebastian would be there in human form, not his two-dimensional anime character form. I’ve thought about what he would look like if he were real.

Not just him.

Him and all the others I’ve dated over the years.

I wonder what it’d be like to date someone you know would never leave you.

Who could be that perfect boyfriend, or husband, or father.

It’s just as I’m thinking about this again that my phone chimes, letting me know I’ve received an email. I’m surprised to see it’s from Ikemen Inc. and that HanaLovesOtome has been invited along with the four other top Ikemen community users for an all-expenses paid, one month vacation to Ikemen’s Dream Resort.

My gut reaction is to scream, “Yes!” but then I remember I’m Hana the superstar.

What would people think if they found out?

What would the tabloids write if they saw me?

I pause.

Who is Hana if there is no tennis?

Hana is HanaLovesOtome.

And so I write an email back, deciding not to loop in my management team, and let the team at Ikemen Inc. know that I would be delighted to experience the resort. The response back is immediate and includes additional details and an NDA.

I skim the details of the agreement, relieved that I am not allowed to talk about the experience as that means no one else will and my identity as Hana the superstar will most likely be off limits to the press and send it back.

It all happens quickly and before the hour is up I’ve managed to secure my spot in the Ikemen Fan 5.

In the two weeks leading up to my departure, I no longer feel depressed or as if time stretches out in a way that makes me feel small and insignificant. I have an event to look forward to and arrangements to be made.

My therapist thinks a solo trip will be good for me and encourages me to journal and continue with the homework she’s given me outside of our sessions. My mom agrees that it will be good for me to have a real vacation which is something I haven’t had in years.

I’ve seen the world through touring but I’ve never really had time for tourism.

To that point, when I get on the plane it strikes me that this is my first time on a plane without the purpose of coming from or going to a tournament. I check two large suitcases and still bring a racquet in case I need the release of losing myself in a training session or two, despite the fact my performance no longer matters.

I wear the sunglasses I always wear to obscure my identity in first class and a wig and baseball hat and n95 mask, which always does the trip. At Narita airport, I see a man holding a sign that says “HanaLovesOtome” and I follow him to a town car that takes me two hours outside of Tokyo proper. It’s only when we pull off the main road, down a long skinny isolated one that I take off my disguise and breathe a sigh of relief that I managed not to attract the attention of any photographers or fans.

In my head I always saw Ikemen Inc. as a small developer, tucked away on a floor in a nondescript office building somewhere in Toyko.

The reality of their facilities surprised me, and we drove 15 minutes through dense woodland, past another small road with a sign indicating guest and employee parking - up to a manicured property where at the center was a sleek looking high rise. My driver stopped under the porte-cochere and helped me with my suitcases, triggering the mechanism for the large glass double doors to open which caught the attention of a man inside.

“Please, allow me to be of assistance,” he said, quickly grabbing the roller’s handles and helping me in to a spacious reception area. “I’m Roman and I run the resort division of Ikemen Inc.”

“Hana.”

There was something familiar about the way that Roman talked and the way he dressed that I couldn’t quite put my finger on as he introduced me to the woman at reception and made small talk about my trip. I engaged in the idle banter until the persistent feeling that I knew him from somewhere became so overwhelming that I finally found myself asking, “Have we met before?”

“Yes,” a female voice called out behind me.

I turned to see a girl, no older than 20 approaching us with a suitcase of her own. She wore the same expression that countless fans wore upon recognizing me as they rushed up to me and asked for a selfie except she was not looking at me, but at Roman.

“He’s Roman Hinton, from Ikemen’s Paradise Palace.”

“Ah, you’ve stayed with us in Paradise I assume?” Roman asked the girl smiling.

“Oh you have no idea,” she said dreamily, and it was then that I realized my wish of dating one of the men in my phone might come true.

That’s the end of my rough first chapter. Let me know if you want to know where we go from here and I might post more. Tagging @nitelotus​ since she asked to see it 

[marshmallowprotection]

Tangled AU

Hi, this is a mess.

Let's say that the Choi boys were the children from a neighboring kingdom but their parents were killed, and thusly, they were just taken in by Rika and V.

Rika and V soon discovered that the youngest twin was blessed with hair as white as snow, as white as the moon. Research into a lot of old fables and stories told them that Saeran was blessed by a rare flower that bloomed from a mystical force, and although it saved his life, people found out about the power and killed their parents for it.

V and Rika tried to keep the boys safe in the castle area but Rika became more and more consumed by the power of Saeran's abilities and stole him away in the night. She had always dabbled in magic but this was intense and true magic that could power her and gift her enough power to... control others and force them to be happy forever as well as alive to worship her out for a long time.

V tried to help her and show her that the world wasn't cruel and she didn't have to abuse magic like that, but she took Saeran when he was two or three and ran off. V was distraught but they could not find him or Rika.

They continue the search but the queen and the prince were... seemingly gone from sight. Saeyoung is the one that says that lanterns would be a smart idea to pull them back if they're out and lost. It's smart, and it shows that he just wants his brother back and safe. 

So, they do that for years on end until their eighteenth birthday comes around, and Ray finds a chance to see the floating lanterns in person thanks to the help of this mischievous but curious thief who only does it because she wants that crown back before the team that she's working with come after her for their prize.

To be fair, she was very nice after he did bonk her with a frying pan the way that he did. She just tries to get him to go home and turn around so she can escape but God, they wind up getting chased by some determined guards and ruffians along the way while this boy—

Is fawning over flowers and the scenery!

Taking him to meet ruffians didn’t help. Judas and Minji were far too cool for their own good. 

“Hey, stop doing that! Have you really never left that tower?” 

“...No, never, I can’t remember ever leaving my tower.” 

“Oh. Well, jeez, Rabbit.” 

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Your hair reminds me of a snow white rabbit.” 

Well, Ray did have company up there, and that’s with a little chameleon that he decidedly called Vanderwood. Weird name, but hey, Lila’s not going to judge the dude if he’s been sheltered all these years. Sassy little thing but at least Ray has had some company over the years. 

Not evening dragging this boy into a ruffian bar was enough to take him down and get him to stop chasing his dream. What’s Lila’s dream anyway? Well, she doesn’t like song and dance but she wants some money to finally live without struggling to get by after she ran away from her bad household. That’s all fine and dandy, but— 

Now, if only Lila hadn’t had the misfortune of enraging one angry stallion named Zen, they would be great. The two of them manage to escape peril after the uh white horse gives chase for quite some time, and they narrowly avoid the guards that he brought with him, al a Yoosung and Jaehee. Of course, that lands them trapped in the process. 

“This way!” 

“...Now, did you plan to trap us in a flooding cave?”

“I’m doing the best I can on the fly!” 

“...Uhuh.”

“Your little friend there is giving me a judgmental look.” 

“You think?” 

Which, of course, is a great time for them to remember that Ray has literal magic hair that glows and sustain life. Lila didn’t know how to feel about that but like, it is working and that’s something that she can’t deny. Like, wow, there really is a magic boy living in the woods with his mother for some fucking reason that she does not understand. It sounds fake, and she’s always been a realist but this is definitely real. 

Well, she can’t deny that he’s not stealing her heart the more that she’s around him, his smile is just... hard to ignore. His manners are great but he’s got that tendency to just be honest and sincere. Of course, Rika has been following after them and she catches Ray when he’s alone and warns him that this girl is just going to leave him high and dry. 

Ray can’t imagine that she would ever do that. 

Not even or some silly crown. 

“Mother knows best, Ray.” 

“She’s not like that.” 

“They’re all the same. I know, Ray. I’m a woman. I know how dangerous we can be.” 

“I won’t believe it.”

A promise is a promise, so, they do spend the day together getting ready for the lanterns. Ray finally gets to see and do so many things that he’s only thought about. And yes, he’s getting his hair done because he deserves to feel pretty and have flowers. And God, holy fuck, if Lila doesn’t feel her heart racing when this boy smiles and seems so happy. 

Yet. 

Something about this town... something about the colors... something is telling Ray that he should be paying more attention to his surroundings but at the same time, he’s having so much fun learning and taking in the sights that he doesn’t think about it too hard. Maybe it has something to do with what he heard about the lanterns being for a missing prince. 

Ray does get to see the lanterns up close, and it just feels right. His dream is really right in front of him and yet, his heart quickens when he sees Lila smiling at him, too. His mother wasn’t right. She wasn’t right for once in his life. Rika isn’t right. 

“You’re beautiful,” she says, quietly. 

“Huh?” Ray glances back at her, “Did you say something?”

“I said... it’s beautiful, your dream.” 

“...Yeah, it is.” 

They almost kiss. 

Almost. 

Lila just gets too nervous. 

Ray pulls away, unsure of what to do. 

The return to shore briefly and separate for only a moment. Yet, that moment is enough for the goons to get knocked out before they can attack Ray who can’t believe they’ve said that Lila just left him with the crown, but there’s a boat just leaving with a figure on it. Rika appears, and saves him, and as much as Ray is upset, he can’t deny what he saw.

Those ruffians, by the way, I’m firmly stating that it’s probably Echo Girl and one of the Glam Choi girls. Anyways, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way. Well, it earns him a trip back to his tower where he assumes that he will stay forever from now on. He takes a deep breath and thinks that this is it for him for the rest of his life. 

He trusted and it got him hurt. 

Until the moment comes that he realizes something. 

The clues.

The signs. 

Everything that he saw. 

He’s...

He’s the missing prince. 

Rika comes into the room and he confronts her about it. She stares at him for a long moment as he demands to know the truth. 

Fortunately for Lila, she may have been double-crossed but she’s got ruffian friends on her side, you know, like JUDAS AND MINJI, who break in and save the day at the same second, as well as Zen, you know, poor guy had a change of heart about the criminal. By the time that she makes it back to the tower in the knick of time, she found Ray tied up, and Rika knocked her down a firm strike of magic—

Oh, God, there’s blood. There’s so much blood in a matter of seconds and Lila just hits the ground. Ray manages to get rid of his gag, and he begs Rika just to let him save her life, and he won’t ever fight back. Rika considers it, and sighs, it is a bore for her, but she can’t have this boy fighting her anymore. It’s nothing so she’ll allow it. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, Ray, I’m sorry. I wish that I had told you that... I found my dream. My real dream.” 

“...?”

“You. I decided that I wanted my dream to be you.”

“Lila, please.” 

Ray apologizes for thinking that Lila would willingly go out of her way to leave him and she apologizes for leaving him alone for even a moment. She does care about him and that’s why she has to do something. Ray leans in, and she just swoops in and cuts his hair with the shard of glass that she gripped so tightly with her hand that it cut into it. 

Rika screams as his hair reverts to the same color of red that belongs to his skin brother, and in her tirade, she manages to stumble out the window and plummet to the ground and her doom. 

Ray is left begging for Lila not to go, for her to not have done that at the cost of her life. He thinks that it’s all for naught. He may be free but the person that made him happy is gone. Well, maybe not, he thinks, as he cries and the room is illuminated in the color blue for the flower that powered and cursed his hair from the start. 

And suddenly, she’s awake again and she’s breathing. 

“Lila...” 

“Look at you, guess I can’t call you a rabbit anymore.”

Ray snorts, a stupid laugh leaving his lips at her poor attempt at trying to make the situation lighter at hand. 

And well, Ray is able to make his way back to the castle where he presents himself to the palace, people are shocked and let him go in right away without even questioning him. Ray doesn’t know what to think of that. At least, until they reach the throne room and he’s left staring into a mirror. No, not a mirror, he is looking at a twin. He is looking at his twin. 

They both burst into tears and hug each other, because their missing piece is now once again whole. V is just relieved to see that the boys are happy and safe once more. 

THERE’S MORE BUT MY BRAIN IS FRIED

[aion-rsa]

Why The Bee Gees Were More Than Saturday Night Fever

https://ift.tt/3441PUp

Generations of music fans know the Bee Gees — British-born, Australia-based brothers Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb — as the musical act that created the songs for Saturday Night Fever, the 1978 movie that made John Travolta a star and catapulted what was known at the time as “disco” music to the forefront of pop culture.

But not only did the Bee Gees create indelible dance staples like “Stayin’ Alive,” “Night Fever,” and “More Than a Woman,” but they had an entire career before Saturday Night Fever, one which was launched in the 1960s and yielded pop classics like “How Do You Mend a Broken Heart,” “To Love Somebody,” “Massachusetts,” “I Started a Joke,” and more, before their gradual turn toward R&B and dance with hits such as “Jive Talkin’” and “Nights on Broadway.”

Along the way, the Bee Gees broke up, battled each other and various addictions, went through dizzying career ups and downs, wrote hits for other artists and succumbed to tragedy, with Robin, Maurice, and younger brother Andy (who started as a solo act before joining his siblings in the Bee Gees) passing away in 2012, 2003 and 1988 respectively.

They also experienced one of the most vicious backlashes in pop history as the tide turned against disco by the end of the 1970s — a backlash that may have been fueled by racism and homophobia as well as the oversaturation of the market.

Now the entire story of the Bee Gees has been chronicled in an excellent new documentary, The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, which premieres this weekend on HBO in the US and Sky Documentaries in the UK. The film is directed by Frank Marshall, the legendary producer whose own track record with Amblin and his own Kennedy/Marshall Company includes films such as the Indiana Jones series, the Back to the Future trilogy, Poltergeist, the Jurassic Park/World saga, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Arachnophobia (which he also directed), The Sixth Sense and many more.

Den of Geek had the privilege of speaking with Marshall about his own view of the Bee Gees, working with Barry Gibb and the families of the other brothers, their place in pop culture and more.

Den of Geek: I went into this film not being a particularly huge Bee Gees fan, but certainly knowing who they are and knowing certain parts of the legacy like Saturday Night Fever. I came out of it wanting to get all those early albums and just fascinated by their whole story.

Frank Marshall: Well, thanks. It was an extraordinary journey. That’s what I love about documentaries, you don’t know where you’re going, unlike my day job where I know everything I’m doing that day. This was such a great journey of discovery and so I’m glad you enjoyed it.

I read that your father was a musician and you play guitar yourself, so music has always been an important part of your life.

Yeah. That was the connection here, that I grew up in a musical family. My dad was a guitar player and conductor and composer. He was actually under contract at Capitol Records. So there was a lot of connective tissue that went into this. So it kind of made sense to me. It was kind of natural.

What was your first exposure to the Bee Gees and what was it about them that struck a chord for you, so to speak?

When I thought back I knew their early songs because I grew up obviously in the ’60s, ’70s, but they really didn’t have an impact for me until Saturday Night Fever. I was shooting The Warriors, which was also at Paramount, and so it was a big deal to have this movie soundtrack suddenly become such a giant success. That was my first realization that they were pop superstars. The music from the movie was incredible. The songs were all different and really fit to the movie. Then to find out later, when I’m doing this doc, that none of it was planned, that’s incredible.

I love that portion of the documentary where it comes out that some of the execs at Paramount at the time were looking down at the “little disco movie” and had no idea what it was going to become.

Certainly, at that moment I happened to be at Paramount when that was going on. We were doing The Warriors, and I remember hearing about a little disco movie. John Travolta was a TV star. Nobody saw this coming.

What inspired you to do a film about the Bee Gees? You worked with Martin Scorsese on The Last Waltz, which is a very different film, but in terms of how to make a great music documentary was that an inspiration?

Well, Marty’s kind of an inspiration for whatever you want to do. But I’ve always loved documentaries. I’ve never really had the opportunity to do them just because they take so long and they’re so involved, and I’ve had my day job. But we started dabbling. I directed my first short doc about 10 years ago and I really loved it, but it was only 50 minutes and it was a very specific subject. We’ve kind of been dabbling in them and then Kennedy/Marshall, about five, six years ago, started really making them.

I was over at Capitol Records meeting with the head, a fellow named Steve Barnett, who had just remodeled and refurbished Capitol Records. I was marveling at how fabulous it was and it reminded me of my early days with my dad and being there and everything. So we started talking about documentaries or stories that might be told at Capitol.

He said, “Well, I just acquired the Bee Gees catalog. We want to try some to do some things to reintroduce and reinvigorate the catalog, and we think a documentary would be great.” I said, “Hey, I’m in. I’ve always thought there were an amazing group and I’d love to get into how that all came about.” So it was being in the right place at the right time for me, and that was four years ago.

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What would you say is the secret to a good documentary?

I think you have to dive deep. I think it can’t be superficial and you can’t tell a story that people know. I think you really have to dig deep into the characters to find that. You start with a general arc and for me it was the family and this gift of creativity that they had. But where did it come from?

The reason I went and got Nigel Sinclair to produce this was I looked at the fabulous doc that he did with Ron Howard on the Beatles and I said, “If they can find footage that had never been seen before of the Beatles then he can help me find footage for this.” It has to be one of those things that had never been seen before.

It needs to have some weight to it. As they say, it needs to be authentic, it needs to be real. You can’t pull wool over people’s eyes. They know if it’s a puff piece. This one, it has its ups and downs. It’s got its joyous moments but there’s also some tragedy. It’s happy and sad. So I think that it really makes for the right story and it’s right for a documentary.

Were Barry Gibbs and the families of the other brothers up for it from the start, or did it take some convincing?

Well, it started with Barry. I met Barry when he came out here for the Grammy tribute and we kind of hit it off, I think, because I’m the oldest in my family, I have younger brothers, and we both grew up in a musical family. So we shared a lot of commonality. You have to get to know each other. I traveled down to Miami several times where we’d just talked. We didn’t shoot, we didn’t do any interviews. Then he introduced me to the rest of the family. Obviously, he was blessing the project and he just felt it was just the right time.

Was one of your goals to show people that the Bee Gees were more than Saturday Night Fever? There may be generations who don’t even know that they sang “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” or “Massachusetts” or any of those other songs.

Yeah, I think it was really to reintroduce them to fans, but also introduce the younger generations of music buffs and music fans to who they really are. We’re really celebrating their legacy and what incredible songwriters they were.

They were this group that everybody knew, but I have two 20-year-old daughters and when I started putting on songs like “Islands in the Stream” and “Guilty,” they go, “Oh yeah, Barbra Streisand wrote that,” or “That’s Dolly Parton.” I said, “No, it isn’t. This is the Bee Gees.” They go, “What?” So, you’re right. There are all these songs that people know, but they don’t realize the songwriting gifts that the Bee Gees had as well.

One of the most shocking moments in the film was the Disco Demolition Night and the analysis of it by Vince Lawrence, who was a security guard at Comiskey Park for that event. When he started talking about pulling the Isaac Hayes and Al Green records out of the bonfire, that just blew me away. And the backlash against the Bee Gees was unbelievably intense.

When you delve into what was that about, I remember it but you don’t understand the impact society was having on music in those days and on the career of these guys. They were on the front wave of global superstardom. It wasn’t just local superstardom. They didn’t understand what was happening. They were just caught up in the changes and trends happening in society and the music was reflecting that. It’s the same kind of backlash that’s happening today about what you believe in.

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First of all, they weren’t disco artists. They got labeled that. But, as you know, they were R&B, they were rock, they were so many other things, but they got labeled as this and then they got blamed for it. It wasn’t their fault. It was really unfair. It was that thing that we talk about in the movie that so often happens to superstars. Now, we understand it but back then they didn’t. So we went to explore why and that’s when we found Vince and we found Nicky Siano to really set and authenticate what was going on.

Nicky (a resident DJ at Studio 54 during the disco era) mentions in the doc how disco became such a success that the music industry basically oversaturated the market with it, which I think is also something you see in the film business. A superhero movie becomes big, so let’s shove 10 more superhero movies out there as soon as possible.

I think Nicky says it, it’s about greed. They lose sight of why it’s successful and then oversaturate and then people get angry and there’s a backlash. The Bee Gees were writing other songs as well, but it was that huge reaction to Saturday Night Fever that wasn’t their fault, but they got blamed for it.

When you meet a Barry Gibb, or work with Steven Spielberg or even Orson Welles, as you did early in your career, is there something different about their personalities, the way they look at the world that ties them together as these creative visionaries?

Well, yes, I guess. They’re all perfectionists. They don’t let it go until it’s out the door and they’re made to let go. That’s the commonality. What’s amazing to me, particularly in the case of the Bee Gees, was that Barry was a collaborator. He took this input from everybody around him and that’s what created the musicality that came into their songs. It wasn’t just one thing.

He took ideas from here and from there and said, “Give us a riff over there or play that thing that you played last night.” He remembers it and that was all the creative process for him and he was natural. I think that’s what I see with Steven and certainly with Orson and with Barry is that it came naturally. It’s not work. They’re just naturally creative and that’s really the gift.

What would you like people to take away from seeing this, either brand new fans or older fans?

Well, I think it’s about the longevity and the fact that they were loving brothers. It was complicated, families are complicated, but their incredible musical gift and the impact that they’ve had on the pop music culture should not be underestimated. I think that’s what I want to do, is celebrate their legacy and hopefully people will rediscover them and discover them anew.

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This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart premieres this Saturday (December 12) on HBO in the US and on Sunday (December 13) via Sky Documentaries in the UK.

The post Why The Bee Gees Were More Than Saturday Night Fever appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3a8weVk

[coneygoil]

Walking Wounded, part 4

Caryl AU. The waitress at a diner Daryl decides to start frequenting catches his eye, but things are complicated. Now, Daryl is the only thing standing between her and her abusive husband.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Daryl had assumed most of his life that he was a loner. Merle was company enough. The guys he sometimes hung out with were just drinking buddies, and they caused more trouble in his life than what they were worth. He tended to keep to himself. He concluded that this was how the universe planned for him to be and he accepted that.

Daryl enjoyed talking with Carol. Their conversations came naturally. He found he also enjoyed her quiet company. They didn’t need to fill in the quiet space around them with unnecessary words.

Sophia worried him though. She hadn’t spoken a word out loud in front of him. When she talked to her Mama in his presence, she’d pull her mother down and whisper in her ear. Daryl did hear her speak a few lines that night when Carol and Sophia – adorn in their secondhand pajamas – had retired to the bedroom. He stood in the hallway and listened to the little girl speak – softly like her Mama. He reckoned it’d take a while for her to trust him. Her father had shattered any trust the poor kid had in men or maybe anybody.

Daryl didn’t know how long his guests would be there. This was only the second night, and emotions were still ramped up from the encounter at the diner. As he sat in the living room, gazing around at the clean kitchen and the blanket folded neatly on the couch and all the little touches Carol already left in her short time there, he hoped they’d stay for a long time.

***

“Do you work?”

Daryl had held down odd jobs from the moment he was legally able to work. Merle didn’t know how to keep a job more than a few weeks, so Daryl had taken it upon himself to keep what little income he could flowing in. He rather liked his latest job and the fact that it was the longest job he’d ever held down.

“I work at a garage as a mechanic,” he answered Carol as they ate breakfast the next morning. “Mostly work on bikes, but I dabble with trucks and all. I go in when I get called.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t pay much, but it’s enough to get by.”

Carol rolled the deer sausage absently around on her plate. Something was on her mind. “I-I don’t know if I’ll be able to work anytime soon. I have nowhere for Sophia to go even if I could. I can’t go back to the diner.”

“I should make enough. You and Sophia already got a week’s worth-a clothes that we paid like $15 bucks for and all the bare necessities you need. I can bring home more meat when I hunt. If you don’t mind eating things like squirrel or rabbit or raccoon. The landlord keeps a vegetable garden. We can talk to him about tradin’ or somethin’. We should be okay.”

Carol didn’t look appeased. “I want to earn my keep for staying here. I can clean and cook and do laundry. I’ll mow grass if I have to.”

“Naw, don’t worry about the grass. That’s what the neighbor’s goat is for. Don’t have to pay her. The grass is all she asks for in return.”

Carol laughed – a true laugh. Daryl couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at the lovely sound. He looked forward to hearing it again. A moment passed and her frown returned.

“Sooner or later, we’ll need to look for a place for me and Sophia to live. We can’t live here forever.”

Daryl’s stomach churned at the reality. She couldn’t stay at his place forever. Carol wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t even his woman and probably never would be. There was the matter that Ed was out there and that she was very much married to him by law. Legalities would have to come into play. Daryl wasn’t sure if she’d wish to press charges against her husband. She’d need a lawyer to divorce him…if that’s the direction she wished to proceed. It was the only route Daryl could fathom that would help move Carol and her daughter into a better future. But, all this depended on what Carol wanted.

Daryl stared at the bottom of his coffee cup as if it held the answers he sought. “Not saying you have to make up your mind today or this week, for that matter, but you gotta decide what you wanna do. Press charges against your old man. Be legally separated. Figure out what you’re gonna do with your life after all of it.”

Without prompting, Carol grabbed the coffee carafe and filled Daryl’s cup three-fourths to the rim. He now knew why she was such a diligent waitress. Her husband trained her to serve his needs well. Daryl thanked her for the refill.

Carol slipped back into her chair. She stared straight ahead, lost in thought. He heard her swallow a lump in her throat. “I can just…be for a little while. Give me some time to collect my thoughts. I’ve been under Ed’s thumb so long I don’t know how to function without him over my shoulder. I feel like I need to relearn how to live again.”

“I understand. I want you to have time for that. But you can’t wait too long. If there’s anything I know about men like Ed, he’ll be on the lookout for you.”

Her next words spent a chill down Daryl’s spine. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from him.”

***

Daryl couldn’t stay cooped up in the trailer all day. He wasn’t sure what Carol and her daughter did at home when Ed was at work, but he had a hunch they didn’t get out much. He was thankful there was land between his trailer and a fair amount of space between next door neighbors. Him and Merle were tucked away in the farthest corner of the trailer park with woods surrounding them, the way they preferred. The landlord was one of those Christian men who’d offered help to his brother multiple times to break his addictions. The landlord had dealt with his own addiction a long time ago from what Daryl gathered. The landlord didn’t so much as blink when Merle cursed him from his offers to better himself. As long as Merle didn’t cause disruption or damage within the community, they wouldn’t be evicted.

Daryl led the way to the trail he’d pounded out when they’d moved in, Carol and Sophia in tow. Sophia stuck close to her mother’s side. She kept her gaze straight ahead and squeezed Carol’s hand with an iron grip. Daryl pointed out various trees and bushes just to keep conversation going, including Sophia into his dialogue hoping to continue to show her he was an okay guy. The trail eventually opened up into a meadow. Dark orange flowers dipped with yellow tips blanketed the knee-high grass.

Daryl stole a glance at Sophia and it was in that moment he caught the wonder spreading across her face. Her grip lessened on Carol’s hand. She reached out to touch the petals of one of the flowers. Her amazement was so great, Daryl wondered if she’d ever touched a flower in her life.

“These’re called Indian Blankets,” he informed, “but sometimes they’re called Firewheels.”

Sophia tilted her face up at Carol and a shock shot up in Daryl at her murmured inquiry, “Can I, Mama?”

Carol glanced at Daryl in question, and he nodded. She shook Sophia’s hand, playfully. “Sure you can, baby.”

Sophia released her mother’s hand and trotted off into the blanket of wildflowers. Daryl watched her then looked at Carol. The most radiant smile graced her lips, as if this was the happiest moment of her entire life.

Daryl didn’t know what over came him. He barely registered his actions before he’d plucked up a flower and extended it to Carol. She stared at the flower offering, bewildered. He raised his eyebrows and gave a little nod as if to say for you. She smiled warmly at him in thanks, taking the flower delicately in the tips of her fingers. He’d never given a woman a flower before, never had the desire or the woman to do so. But if it made Carol happy, he’d give her a flower every day for the rest of his life.

***

Carol couldn’t remember the last time she felt joy. She’d nearly forgotten the emotion existed. Today reminded her of its presence.

Daryl had taken her and Sophia for a walk in the nearby woods. She hadn’t traversed that close to nature in years. Daryl seemed to be at home among the trees. His knowledge of the woods astounded her. He told them what every tree and bush were named. He showed them how he tracked wildlife and pointed out deer tracks that would have been completely lost to the naked eye.

When he brought them to the meadow, Carol’s breath caught. Dozens upon dozens of flowers blanketed the grass. The sight left her in awe. Her throat tightened when Sophia quietly asked her if she could wander through the flowers. The sunlight gleaned on Sophia’s blonde head, the flowers surrounding her, creating a beautiful memory that Carol would cherish.

Then, Daryl presented to her a single flower. Their silent exchange spoke more than any words ever could. Ed had given her flowers before. He’d come traipsing in with whatever bouquet he could snag at the store. He’d shove it at her, slide his palms roughly up and down her arms, and grunt out a ‘didn’t mean to’ for whatever atrocity he’d laid upon her the night before. It’d been 5 years since he’d made an effort to even do that.

Here was Daryl. A man she’d met two months ago. A man that saved her and promised to take care of her, though it was the farthest from being his responsibility. Here he was, shyly giving her a flower in the spur of the moment. She was practically a stranger to him, but he’d given her more in a few days than Ed had in their 10 years of marriage.

Carol gazed at the two Indian Blanket flowers extending from the neck of the beer bottle on the nightstand. Sophia had picked a flower, proudly presenting it to her after she’d seen Daryl give her mother one. Seeing her daughter smile was the greatest gift she’d received. Daryl helped make that possible.

With one last gaze at the flowers to etch into her memory, Carol switched off the lamplight and snuggled close to her daughter. For the first time in years, Carol could believe in a brighter tomorrow.

[zorarpg]

“Some people think that life is about lying all the time, and some think it’s about being truthful all the time, but really it’s a very mundane matter of knowing when to do which.”

- Ned Vizzini

NAME: Benjamin Stacy BIRTHDAY: March 14, 1871 GENDER: Cisgender Male SPECIES: Witch OCCUPATION: Bootlegger YEAR THEY JOINED ZORA: 1918 FACECLAIM: Timothy Olyphant

HISTORY

TW: Mention of homophobia

There’s power in names. Especially when it comes to magic. Benjamin, Benny to his friends; of which they numbered in few, was born the second child–only son–to a powerful magic family; rich in wealth and rich in power. Their name meant much, it was draped in gold and silk. It afforded him a great many luxuries, luxuries that came with strings. While their family, kept mum, was matriarchal and before his third birthday, dear Benjamin already had an arranged marriage in mind. In the works. They met, in passing, sweet girl. That’s what he was told to say. She was powerful, she was perfect–another branch to add to the family tree with oomph.

What a shame he felt nothing. He could blame it on her wits, on her sharp tongue; on any number of things–even if the girl had earned every right. Her ego was not overblown, it was matter of fact. Then again, it wasn’t meant to be a marriage of love such things were not done. “You’ll come to love each other, and if not–what does it matter? The heirs you produce will be fantastical. Powerful. And in the end, power is all that matters.”

Did he want to find someone to love? Even if a red string tied them so close together? It was more a noose around his neck. Not even ten and he couldn’t breath. Boarding school was a paradise, the private lessons to supplement the ordinary. After all, magic was far greater a secret than any other to be had. Even if he had one he held closer to his breast.

His first kiss was at fourteen. Stolen in the vast campus library between rows upon rows of books; with another boy. Another secret kept, further avenues explored. His family’s coin may have bought him every luxury here but this was something that could not be bought. This was a secret greater than his gift of magic, the illusions and wonders he could spin. The way fire could dance at his fingertips. Men fancying men was an illness, and while the odd casual touch–a kiss, a brush of hands; nothing more, the terribly, terribly human boy who was his world yearned to be ‘normal’ to be rid of his sickness but outside of their whispered romance, kept a friendship; just as dear. It was almost as sweet to have a friendship with someone so separate from his own world. So sad it could not last.

Graduation came and went, wedding bells lingered on the horizon and he hightailed it as far as far could be. Cowardly? Maybe. But he was tired of playing pretend. He took odd jobs, drifting from place to place; ‘call me Benny’ said with a crooked grin and a shake of the hand. At first, he sticks out like a sore thumb; it’s obvious in a way that he’s not like the rest. Educated. An accent of wealth, of status. Too clean, not enough sharp edges despite the bite of his too-perfect teeth. They wonder if he bleeds blue. But, he’s a fast learner. He adapts. Evolves. A proper scoundrel. ‘I prefer puckish rogue’ he drifts right and proper. A few close calls with family sniffing round. Locator spells. Tracking. Hunters. The good and the bad, sometimes he slips up with his magic; can’t let it bottle up too long and turn potent. Rotten. He puts on odd shows, a proper criminal; all flash and awe. There’s regular human magic men, pulling rabbits out of hats but he goes the extra mile. The only extra mile a witch can.

It earns him attention, both good and bad. Continuing to swallow back his other wants in favour of this; filling the hole with grandeur. Doesn’t stop him from wanting. Another charade, another boy–this time a man, he’s sweet and kind and terribly human. In awe of the small tricks and sleight of hand, at first he thought he’d struck gold (as what runs in his veins) no strings attached. No judgement. What once was physical became softer still. And more. The distances he traveled became smaller, shorter stints away from what he found himself calling home. The man, sweet Samuel opened his door and arms every time with a sweet kiss to his lips and a smile as he said ‘Welcome home.’. His fear is rank, ice cold in his vein. There’s no point in love his parent’s voice says to him, but the way Samuel looks at him, touches him…sure as hell feels like love. And Samuel tells him such one morning over breakfast, his cup of coffee halfway to his lips. And he freezes.

He runs the numbers, the details between their worlds; the thin line he’d been toeing. Was this just another illusion he’d been spinning subconsciously? A reality he desired so much he’d played the ultimate trick with himself as the sole audience member? He’s gone the next morning. Drifting–no, running. But, his pride won’t let him call it that. How arrogant of him to still cling to such. He’s between one scam and the next, though he’d not call it that–funny how he dances around the truth (and what a smooth dancer he is), when he cons the wrong mark. Picks the wrong pocket with a quick magical touch. The man catches him two blocks over, somewhere between annoyed and impressed. Snatches his wallet back, triple checks the contents and though doubt must arrest his tongue he asks outright “Are you a witch?”

He’s been called worse. No manner of bullshit keeps the hound off his tail and soon, in one gentlemen’s club while other men talk of war he stews on the possibility of…more. What was he running from? How long could he keep up the charade? Cigar between his teeth as he chews on the end, the other asks him his thoughts, wondering if it would come to America’s shores. And Benjamin considers letting his accent slip, letting the blue slip free. The crisp cut. Wouldn’t that be funny, the ultimate little jest. He laughs to himself and helps himself to a glass of something impossibly aged. War plagues his homeland. He wonders if his family has suffered any losses.

Or perhaps they bought their golden ticket towards paradise. A safe haven away from the violence. Of war. Soon, America joins the fight–to show them how to do it right, some claim with arrogance form their plush chairs and clean hands–while men below them, any man but they; are sent to the trenches. Benjamin is the same, he keeps clean; polished loafers kept shiny and new. Belly full and every inch of him kept sated, less so horizontal and carnal–that’s a deed, almost a sin kept close to heart (Samuel’s warm smile) and he becomes a regular at that club. Beating the wealthy at their own game, what do you hope to gain? How much gold will it take to satisfy you? When will the void be full?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. But, the emptiness is less noticeable when he’s winning. When he’s another dollar richer. It’s been years, nearly a decade really since he’s last seen Samuel–funny that, he’s not the last man he’s kissed. Nor laid with, but it’s been hollow. And chases every lick of self-hatred with a stiff drink. It’s just an itch to scratch. Better than being his family’s bitch back home. If he even had a family left to call his own. Then again, they never were bonded in more than blood and even that he’d diluted with a poison of his own making. It’s been fun. The war ends. The people celebrate in the streets and he lets himself celebrate with them, in his expensive suit and polished loafers. He dances with a beautiful woman whose name he does not know, he doesn’t stop to taste–indulges in revelry almost as sweet as memories past. And then a man finds him again months later, kindred spirit; almost. Magic at his fingertips, a wry smile–all knowing. “Aren’t you tired of running?”

He’s been doing alright, he almost says. But the man speaks of sanctuary of a town filled with people like him. He grew up around witches, can’t say he’s a fan. What of the others? And whose to say it had to be a forever thing? Zora he says. Needs new blood, needs smart men who know their way around the world. He knows a great many things, a great many people. More connections than he knows what to do with. Nets himself a tidy profit day in and day out; wouldn’t it be nice to have a safe place he could lay his head with not a single question asked? No more pretend? Benjamin couldn’t fathom such a thing.

But the idea was a novel one, and he pondered it some time further. Like a new puzzle. He gets an interview, not unlike the sorts he’s exchanged prior. Benjamin Stacy, Call me Benny. He’s provided money, he’s supplies-where needed. Spends his time while in Zora as a general layabout. Why bother? He’s got the wealth to avoid such thing, he dabbles when needed but when 1920 rolls around brings a new avenue of wonder. Bootlegging. It scratches the itch and serves a purpose. Sometimes he can be found around The Royal Flush when it’s in full swing. Dressed to the nines perched on a stool drinking scotch from the stash kept private purchased separately and shared with a special few. The people are kinder here, women lay with women and men with men; they do not judge. Why stoop to human levels when you’re anything but? It leaves a sour note that no top shelf hooch will chase away.

For the most part, he’s an odd staple around town. Drifting with the wind, rolling in with one shipment or another–expertly hidden with layers weaved of illusion and a little human ingenuity. Best of both worlds. He can get you what you need, what you want, whatever it may be–for a price. Like a human tumbleweed, he hardly remains stationary but…he has something akin to a home. A charming brownstone in which he lives alone. It’s a far cry from the grand manors he grew up in, or the smattering of cramped quarters in between, from Samuel’s cozy loft, or the penthouses of the rich and powerful. But, it’s something. Something almost nice. If he doesn’t think about it too much. He’s almost happy to call himself a citizen of Zora, separate from it’s complicated history as he’s woefully fresh meat. But that’s okay, when the going gets tough; the tough get going. He has sworn no fealty to them, and he certainly won’t die for them. Let alone bleed for them. He’s good at keeping secrets and he doesn’t intend to spill but…as the clock ticks forward he finds himself fond, housing less of a desire to run. And that scares the daylights out of him.

CONNECTIONS

N/A

STATUS

Benjamin Stacy is taken.

[gallifreyanlibertea]

You made me cry. That was beautiful.👏🏻🙌. Can I request some Bunny and wolf? I love the sweet stuff, and these guys are naturally fluffy😂

a/n: I don’t remember what this was in reference to LOL but thank you, anon!! 

Odd

“I was wondering if you had… um,” Arthur wondered what it was today. “Some sugar? White sugar.”

Alfred Jones had a sweet tooth, it seemed, because this was the third time this week he had asked Arthur to borrow ingredients for a confection he claimed to be making. And here, Arthur thought wolves were the more savory type.

Well, Alfred was different. He was… odd. Arthur remembered being scared senseless only two weeks ago, when he had moved into the house that was directly beside one that was inhabited by a wolf. Arthur had seen him as he dragged his heavy bags up the steps into his new home. He had remembered watching, wide-eyed, as his new neighbor absent-mindedly peeked into his mailbox, those large, tanned, muscular arms, hanging at the sides of a large, muscular torso- attached to large, muscular legs, and god- Arthur had felt faint. He didn’t recall his realtor telling him there was a wolf in the neighborhood! The man could’ve crushed his skull with his two fingers! He had contemplated turning on his heel and finding another home right then and there, when the wolf had looked up from reading a letter.

He had glanced back down, to which Arthur had wondered how quickly he would have to shift his belongings into the house before the wolf glanced back up in shock at the sight of a rabbit moving in next to him.

It had been not even a second later. The man had glanced back up, blue eyes wide behind his glasses, “Oh- hi, there! You must be the new neighbor.”

Yes, Alfred Jones- as he had introduced himself to Arthur, stammering and red-faced as he had stretched his hand out for Arthur to hesitantly shake- was odd.

And it had taken Arthur far too long to finally understand why Alfred had held the handshake a bit too long, pulling away with a flustered smile and a wag of his tail as he offered to help move Arthur’s heavy bags for him.

“Good afternoon!” Alfred chirped.

Arthur had blinked. It had been days after their first meeting, and Alfred already seemed comfortable enough to peer over the low fence that divided their backyards, half dressed too, and while Arthur had been in the middle of reading a rather good book.

Really, he hadn’t thought it was too hot outside. Patches of clouds blocked the sun’s rays, and a thin layer of dew rested on the grass from the rain that had sprinkled over the yard only half an hour before, so Arthur had dried off his lawn chair and taken a seat. However, as soon as he’d stepped out, Alfred came bumbling out of his own house, shirt coming clean off as soon as Arthur’s eyes rose from his book to meet Alfred’s baby blues.

“It’s boiling out here.” Had been Alfred’s reasoning.

Odd.

Alfred had tripped over the long green hose he used to water his plants. “I’m just out here to garden a bit. I love plants n’ stuff yanno. I have some… um, I have some carrots here too.”

It was funny, Arthur hadn’t recalled there being a garden the first day he’d moved in. It had seemed to appear almost mysteriously the day after: tufts of carrot tops and herb leaves peeked out of the ground, similar to the garden Arthur had set up in his own yard.

“Um, but Mr. Jones-” Arthur had put away his book, “It already rained just a while ago, I don’t know if you should be watering your plants again.”

Alfred blinked. “Oh. Right, yeah, you’re right… I guess I’ll just… go back inside.”

Arthur had smiled, looking back into his book.

“God, I-” Arthur had glanced back up as Alfred cleared his throat to speak again, “I’m really bad at gardening, aren’t I?”

“Well, if I can help in any way, let me know.” Arthur had said in response.

He hadn’t, of course, expected Alfred to ask him to come over to his backyard right this second, it’s urgent! to check on the health of his plants. “I mean, I just wanna make sure they’re not dead. You’re a bunny. Right? You guys know how to take care of plants.”

“Rabbit.” Arthur had corrected. He didn’t know why he hadn’t just conjured an excuse to keep reading. Arthur watched Alfred unhook the fence door and usher Arthur into his yard. 

Needless to say, there was a reason wolves didn’t keep gardens, and Alfred specifically ought to have kept to tradition, because he was in no way competent to handle plant life.

“These plants have been watered to death, Mr. Jones!” Arthur had said with a gasp, a long blond ear twitching at the sight of shriveled, damp leaves strewn across the dark earth, as if bloated.

Arthur wasn’t surprised! Every time Arthur stepped out for some air, it seemed Alfred was outside too, in a manner of seconds, watering his plants.

Never mind it took Arthur weeks to realize the idiot wolf had been doing it as an excuse to ogle Arthur in his shorts. At the moment, Alfred had seemed like a very dedicated man. He’d seemed odd. Arthur had never known a wolf to be one for plant care.

So Arthur had helped him. He’d told him the simplest way to raise new plants and Alfred had listened intently, hanging on to every word that left Arthur’s lips.

Arthur had gone home with his chest swollen with pride at the fact that he’d been of service to a wolf of all people. See, wolves never listened to rabbits, no. The predator-prey instincts of the traits tucked away in their ancestral DNA had led rabbits to shy away from the likes of wolves, and led to a sort of wolf-superiority-complex, despite the fact that at this point, they were more human than anything, save for their few animal features.

Yet there Arthur was! He had been proud of himself to get a man like Alfred to listen to what he had to say.

Of course, Arthur came to realize later that the only service he’d provided Alfred was the red flush in the wolf’s cheeks from having eyed the contours of Arthur’s lips for the entirety of Arthur’s instruction, not having heard a word that came out of Arthur’s mouth over the beating of Alfred’s own heart because, well, Alfred had apparently sported a raging crush on him. 

Arthur should’ve known! Hell, he had been oblivious every single time Alfred mowed his lawn where Arthur could see, shirt discarded as Alfred flexed his muscle for no apparent reason.

Alfred had taken up morning runs at the same time Arthur would embark on his walks- oh wow, funny to see you here, Arthur! Where are you off to? Oh- th- there? Uh… I’m going the same way, actually!

And Alfred would slow down to Arthur’s pace, every time, until Arthur’s morning walks became a time he would walk out in front of Alfred’s door, pausing momentarily until Alfred came out to join him, tail wagging.

Arthur should’ve known simply based on the number of times Alfred needed to borrow flour, or eggs, or milk-

Or sugar, as Alfred asked two weeks after they’d met.

Arthur had let him in, as always, “Are you a baker, Alfred?”

“Uh, I guess you could say I dabble?” Was Alfred’s weak reply, “I was just in the mood for making some… um… cake.”

“What kind of cake?” Arthur asked politely, searching his cupboards for his jar of sugar.

“… carrot cake!” Alfred blurted. Arthur raised a brow, unknown to the wolf behind him.

“Carrot? I didn’t think wolves liked carrots.”

Arthur’s ear twitched to the sound behind him, or rather, a lack thereof. Arthur heard a sharp inhale, and then, nothing, as if Alfred had held his breath.

“Nah, I like all sorts of… vegetables. I’m not really a meat kinda guy.”

Arthur turned at that, “You don’t eat meat?”

Alfred winced, “No, I lied. I do.”

Arthur furrowed his brows, to which Alfred sighed in what looked like defeat. Blue eyes were trained on the floor.

“Look, I mean, I could stop eating it if that’s what you want. I could go vegetarian.”

“I beg your pardon?” Arthur said, “What? Wh- why on earth would I want you to go vegetarian, Alfred? Are you alright?”

“I mean, it’s not going to be too difficult! I’ll do it.” Alfred said, as if convincing Arthur, and it really didn’t make a lick of sense to him! That seemed apparent by the look in Arthur’s eyes because Alfred chewed his lip, “I mean, I had a roommate back in college that dated a rabbit and she made him go vegan so, if you get what I mean…”

And Arthur had laughed. He laughed because he was an idiot, an oblivious bumbling idiot! “Alfred, come on now, I wouldn’t make a friend go vegan!”

Alfred had paused, eyes dragging up from the floor to look at Arthur with a look of disbelief that Arthur hadn’t understood. “A friend?”

See, Arthur had mistaken it for doubt. He’d pressed the jar of sugar into Alfred’s hands with a reassuring smile, “I don’t mind your habits, or you being a wolf, really. You’ve been a great neighbor and a great friend.”

Alfred took the sugar, eyes retreating back to look at the floor. “Right. Okay. Thank you for the sugar, I’ll- I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Have fun,” Arthur said with a smile as Alfred shut the door behind him, and then he paused, smile melting away. The gears in his brain clicked into place as he gasped, hands cupping his mouth. “Oh!”

It was now that Arthur finally got it, it all made sense, and he was a colossal, dimwitted fool!

Of course, Alfred had just poured his heart out and Arthur had laughed and called him a friend. Although he was in no way obligated to say yes even though Alfred had asked, Alfred deserved a proper, well-meaning rejection! They were neighbors for god’s sake! They would be seeing each other every day, and Arthur had gone and made it all awkward. He’d ruined it all.

Arthur reached for the door handle. He then paused. What would he even say?

I’m truly so sorry, Alfred, I misunderstood what you meant and I- then what? I think we would be better friends?

Did Arthur really believe that?

He hadn’t given it much thought. The only men Arthur had ever dated were rabbits like himself, so he’d seen nothing in Alfred but the wolf that lived next door.

Right?

Arthur furrowed his brows, taking to pacing across the floor. 

Well, since when was he in the habit of putting away a book to help a neighbor? Arthur wasn’t necessarily a ‘good bunny’. He preferred solitude to anything, yet every morning, he waited for that wagging tail and those bright, blue eyes.

Now that he thought about it, how had he noticed that Alfred would take to flexing as he mowed the lawn if Arthur hadn’t been looking out his window to watch it? He could’ve gone back to doing whatever he’d been doing but no, Arthur was watching. He was always shamelessly watching, turning away only when he felt Alfred was about to glance up and find him looking. 

It seemed Arthur was just as much oblivious to himself as he was to Alfred Jones.

So before he knew it, Arthur was knocking at his neighbor’s door. Alfred opened up before Arthur could even knock the second time. “Hey, what’s up?”

Arthur froze, tongue numb in his mouth. It seemed that once he’d come to terms with everything, Alfred suddenly seemed so intimidating. Not quite in the sharp-fanged predator sort of way- rather, as the attractive neighbor next door. The two shared a similarity in that Arthur truly felt like a cornered animal of prey.

His tail twitched, but he was glad it was far too small for Alfred to see. “Have you started making the cake yet?”

“No,” Alfred said, hand coming to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “I was going to in a while-”

“Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Arthur said feverishly, “I was thinking I could help since you probably don’t know how to make it.”

Alfred laughed lightly, “Yeah, I really don’t. I’d appreciate the assistance.”

He moved aside, making way for Arthur to enter.

Arthur paused halfway through the door. “Alfred, I completely misunderstood what you had said, I’m so sorry I didn’t give you a proper response.”

“Misunderstood?” Alfred said, and Arthur walked further into the house, hearing Alfred shut the door behind him.

“Well, I didn’t know you were… that you-”

“That I liked you?” Alfred completed. Arthur’s cheeks flushed in response as he turned to face Alfred.

“Yes. I don’t want you to think I’d ever want someone to change the way they are for me, or-”

“Hey, it’s no worries!” Alfred said. His tail swished behind him. His eyes twinkled in slight mirth, an expression Arthur could sense was forced. “I didn’t think you would, but you know how crazy a crush can make somebody. You don’t have to give me an answer for my sake, I’ll survive. Let’s make some cake!”

He then turned to enter his kitchen, shuffling around pots and pans, “Say, I really have no idea what to use, mind helping me out?”

When Arthur didn’t reply, nor did he move, Alfred turned to face him, smile melting into a slight look of concern. “You okay?”

“I think you misunderstood me.”

Alfred furrowed his brows. HIs grey ears flattened against his caramel blond hair in mild confusion. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you to think you’d need to change the way you are… when you’re dating me.”

And those ears perked up just as fast as a smile spilled from Alfred’s lips, as fast as he practically stumbled out of the kitchen over to Arthur, tail wagging. 

“When I’m dating you?”

“Yes.” Arthur replied, cheeks tinted pink, “I was hoping this carrot cake would be our first one. Our first date, I mean.”

Silence. Alfred grinned, “Then let’s start dating.”

Of course, like Arthur had expected, Alfred hadn’t really liked the carrot cake. The wolf wrinkled his nose after the first fork-full, glancing over at Arthur with a pout, “You said I wouldn’t have to change myself for you, right?”

And Arthur laughed, brushing the flour off Alfred’s cheekbone because really, this whole situation was nothing but odd- Arthur could imagine his mother’s shrieking if he ever told her he was romantically involved with a wolf.

A wolf with sweet blue eyes, tan skin that glowed under the kitchen light, and grey ears that twitched atop his blond hair when he smiled. Arthur forked another chunk of cake into his mouth, “There’s more for me, then.”

Alfred smiled, tail wagging blissfully behind him as he leaned forward to press his elbows onto the countertop, cradling his face in his hands. “Since we’re on the topic of things you rabbits love, I absolutely hate gardening, hate everything about it. I only watered those plants to check you out.”

“I figured, Alfred.”

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [368]

“I think you're being a prat,” Mahanon says apropos of nothing and Ellana blinks at her brother before looking around to see if maybe he’s talking to a kneazle that escaped from its play pen or perhaps even a free roaming nug.

“I’m talking to you, sister,” Mahanon says.

“Oh, well, that’s not new. You always think I’m being annoying,” Ellana says, “Is there anything in particular I was doing right now? Aside from breathing?”

“You’re in a mood,” Mahanon scowls, “Because I told the Iron Bull that you have feelings for him and that everyone knows it except him. You would think that a former Unmentionable for the Qun would be able to tell such a thing, but apparently not. What a copcchia.”

Ellana rolls her eyes, “Before we get in on calling people dullards and clay-brained oafs, I’d like to first point out that I am not sulking. Perhaps for the first time in like, a year, I’m not sulking about this. I am coping with it and I am getting over it like a fully grown, mature, adult.”

“I think I preferred you sulking then, because this is ridiculous.”

“I was immature,” Ellana says, turning just in time to catch one of their three eyed ravens - newly hatched, still black around the edges and not yet fully white - trying to steal one of the cookies Ellana just brought out of the oven. Ellana points her wand at it and raps the table next to its talons. The raven caws in protest but hops away and then flaps onto Ellana’s arm, hopping and clinging its way up to her shoulder before fluffing up and settling in for a nap. “Now I am getting over it. I am forgiving, I am forgetting, and I am going to make sure I put this all behind me.”

“You were cross with Maxwell for months. You had him groveling at your feet.”

“In hindsight it was very mean of me. But he did lie.”

“One, he didn’t lie. He obscured the truth, a very Slytherin thing to do that you’d be proud of it he didn’t do it to you. Two, you were understandably irritated because he did end up bringing the Iron Bull to your house for a few weeks and you had to just live with he man you’ve had a crush on since you were a teenager being obtuse in the same place as you for twenty four hour periods.”

Mahanon pauses, wrinkles his nose and sneers, “Forgive and forget? How very Hufflepuff of you, sister. Were you addled in a duel? Maybe one of the Hawkes hit you on the head recently?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It isn’t. It’s just not a you thing. You’re still holding onto that time that one dracolisc decided it liked me better than you when you were four.”

Ellana glares at him, “I had nursed that dracolisc since it was a little egg and you just happened to be in the direction it was facing when it hatched and you weren’t even there, there. You were walking by and it just happened to put its eyes on you first.”

“See?”

Ellana reaches up and lightly brushes her fingertips against the raven’s breast, it nips at her finger and tucks itself in.

“It’s unlike you to just ignore something like this,” Mahanon says. “Have you considered talking to the Iron Bull about it?”

“I told him that I’m not expecting anything from him.”

“Why not?”

“Well why should I?” Ellana asks, “Just because someone likes a you doesn’t mean you’re obligated to like them back.”

“Well he hasn’t gotten a chance to figure out if he could like you back or not,” Mahanon says, “The entire time you’ve been working together you’ve been in a snit about him being a snail-paced block head. The only you he knows is you as a teenager in the middle of a fight to the death and you as a slighted adult. He’s never learned about you the witch who’s figured out legilimency, become an animagus, and dabbled in alchemy on the side for fun.”

-

“Kaaras, listen, I know you kind of just like to chill around as a giant tiger and that’s cool. That’s great. That’s wonderful, darling, but listen,” Maxwell holds the tiger’s giant head in his hands, “We’ve got an auror in the house that’s not me and he might not be so cool with it. We need to pretend like the three of us haven’t broken a few dozen wizarding rules on the regular, okay?”

Kaaras look very disappointed and very sad.

“Yes, yes, I know. This helps you calm down when you’re overwhelmed and understandably this is the perfect situation for being overwhelmed. But maybe, maybe, maybe hold it in for a few days?”

“We can just have this room be blocked off,” Ellana says from the doorway, “Kaaras, I’ve put your rabbits in their pen. The Iron Bull is watching them, they like his hands apparently.”

Maxwell and Kaaras share mutual looks, universal looks that go beyond species.

You like his hands you mean.

“I’ll stay with Kaaras. If he comes in I’ll just say I was practicing my transfiguration,” Ellana says, “You can entertain your houseguest.”

Ellana gives Maxwell a very sharp look as she closes the door behind her, going to sit down on the lounge chair by the window, patting her legs.

Kaaras pulls his head from Maxwell’s hands and goes to lay his head on her lap, eyes closing and purring as Ellana starts scratching his ears.

“You can’t leave me to this by myself. Besides, you’re the one who’s a professional beast caretaker. You have to tell me and the Iron Bull what to do.”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before bringing a dracoslic home.” Ellana smiles very prettily and very meanly. “I’ll write a letter home for you but don’t expect any more help from me on this one, Max. You are well and truly on your own for this.”

[bestdjkit]

The Beautifully Unpredictable Duality of James Blake

A candid interview with the prolific Blake, whose Grammy-nominated single "Before" proved that his approach to genre conventions is as madcap as it is fluid.

Before he was the Grammy-winning musical chameleon he is today, James Blake found himself in a constant state of emotional camouflage.

Like any prodigious musician on the come-up, the pressure to be "cool" hovered like a black cloud, following him from party to party. And his moods changed like quicksilver, leading to a bit of an identity crisis, says Blake, whose titular track from his scintillating Before EP was recently nominated for a Grammy Award in the category of Best Dance/Electronic Recording.

"I’ve always felt slightly on the outside of things. In any scene I was ever in, I was always on the outside looking in," Blake tells EDM.com. "And I think it took me a long time to realize that there was no scene, you know? There was no being outside looking in—it was only that I hadn't acknowledged that actually, I was something."

James Blake.

Josh Stadlen

While it rumbles with rave sensibilities, the crux of Before is Blake's elusive search for a sense of self. After years of writing about loneliness and detachment, each of the record's four quaking tracks are aftershocks of a chasm between artistic dualities: the vulnerable and the carefree.

"That’s often the misconception that outsiders have when they feel like outsiders, or maybe even the lie that we’re told is that we need to fit into something," continued Blake, who says he was bullied when he was young. "And there’s a lot of FOMO around not being one of the cool kids. It’s funny because as much as my career has seemed—pretty much since the beginning—probably like I’d succeeded in becoming cool, I never felt it. It was more of an avatar. The actual person didn’t really particularly resonate. The only thing I resonate with is my music, and the people who listen to it."

But to the prolific Blake, if his alienation was wrong, it's tough to imagine being right.

"I have a lot to thank," he said. "Did it need to be as bad? Maybe not. But who knows? Would I have been as musical?"

A departure from his lovelorn ballads of yesteryear, "Before" is an unapologetic return to Blake's DIY electronic music bedrock. His ability to transfix listeners into rabbit holes of languid sonic boom is as strong as ever in its breathtaking namesake EP, which harkens back to his early dubstep and electro-soul influences.

Blake likens electronic music production to an "infinity mirror," a microcosm of his deeply experimental approach to Before.

"You can just go on forever," Blake says with a smile. "If you want to, you can experiment for literal ever until a sound is beyond recognition and you are just dabbling in the unknown."

EDM.com: Since "Before" is a bit of a divergence from your more recent work, did you find yourself going through a sort of identity crisis? Or did you find it easy to tap into your electronic roots?

James Blake: I’ve probably been having this, I don’t know, low-level identity crisis my whole life really when it comes to this kind of thing. Music being split between all these different things that I like to do. Always there’s going to be an audience for that, and what about, "If I try this, are people really going to want to come and listen? Is it going to make sense that it’s going to come under the same name?"

Even when I first came out, I was doing dance music and electronic music and these kind of weird, collage-y, ambient things as well. To then go from that to sing “Limit to Your Love” and my first record and stuff like that, people had a taste pretty quickly of the duality. And I think initially, to people at the time, it probably seemed like I was actually just going mainstream or, you know, changing too quickly. But I think as my career went on people started to realize, “Oh, there’s a pattern here.” I loved playing with expectations and reminding people that that wasn’t the only time that I was going to do the polar opposite of the last thing.

And then in the last few years, in the years before Before, some people were asking me, “Are you going to do electronic music again?” Because it had been so many years—I think it’d been like five years at that point. And strangely and ironically, during the quarantine when no clubs were open was the time that I felt like the most like making dance music. I don’t know why.

EDM.com: Well there was nowhere to dance. Literally.

James Blake: That was it. Just things I was listening to at the time, and I just got into this headspace of wanting to finish something like that. And except this time it kind of took on some of the songwriting elements too, that I’d been kind of honing over the years.

EDM.com: Striking that dichotomy between ballad and banger is one of the most elusive achievements for electronic music producers. Was that polarity top of mind during the recording process?

James Blake: No, actually. "As" and "Wish" by Stevie Wonder have always struck me. Or "The Love I Lost” by Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes. Songs like that, where there’s this beautiful and bittersweet song accompanied by house music or disco, was just something that I’ve always loved.

I play those songs when I DJ and I think Before is kind of my version of that, you know, but not quite as amazing (laughs). I'm not comparing them, but in my mind, that's how I filter them through my kaleidoscope.

James Blake.

Josh Stadlen

EDM.com: The mythos of this record lies in its vulnerability, especially in “I Keep Calling.” What message does it send about our tendency as humans to stifle our own emotional clarity?

James Blake: I’d say [Before] wears its heart on its sleeve. “Summer of Now” is probably the most cryptic, but even then, you know, it’s got some wistful, romantic musings. And I think you can get the sense of what it’s about even if you’re not completely tuned in lyrically.

I think if anything I was expressing my thoughts. It doesn’t seem repressed to me, this record. Dance music has a way of making things become hypnotic in the right setting, and I think that’s the true power of it, is allowing you to explore your feelings subconsciously while you’re doing something else.

There’s a duality to a lot of these things. Dance music has that. I think it’s deeply meditative.

EDM.com: It’s cathartic in a way, isn't it? I don’t want to say it could lead to “out of body” experiences or anything like that, but when you’re dancing and raving and what not, it really can be that way.

James Blake: Yeah. I’ve been to so many different types of parties, where it’s like you’ve got places where it feels like you’re really tuned into the music. Places where it just feels like you’re partying. And the places where it feels like you’re kind of meditating in a weird way. And they’re all good. Each type is fun.

EDM.com: And speaking of vulnerability, I want to talk about Friends That Break Your Heart. I think it’s the strongest songwriting effort of your career. Was there a creative epiphany or breakthrough somewhere along the line?

James Blake: I think “Say What You Will” was the breakthrough. There were a few others. “I’m So Blessed You’re Mine” was a moment where I really just felt like I’d done something completely new, which was cool. “Say What You Will” really ticks the traditional singer-songwriter box for me in a way that I really wanted to tick. And once I ticked that, I was kind of done really. I was like, “Well, I’ve written the song I need to write for my career” (laughs).

It’s like I felt I was leading up to doing that for a long time. It was a song I really wanted to write that was somewhere in my subconscious and I couldn’t quite grab it. And then I wrote that and I thought, "There it is. That’s the one. I don’t need to strive to do that anymore because I’ve done it."

EDM.com: How did you conjure that?

James Blake: I don't know. They come to you like a sort of lucid dream. You don’t know why you dream about certain things, right? It’s like we just wake up and we’re like, “Huh, that was weird.” After writing the song, I basically did that. I knew why emotionally—emotionally I could see why that came out of me at the time—I felt all those things and I wanted to talk about that.

But at the same time, Neal Brennan, who was the inspiration for the song, showed me his new standup special that he's now performing in New York at the moment. I read it and had a lot of shit come up. I really just didn't expect it. It was funny—really funny—but I also didn't expect to be so moved. And it compelled me to write "So What You Will."

EDM.com: There’s an overt mention of being a black sheep in "If I’m Insecure." How does the idea of alienation influence your songwriting?

James Blake: I think when you're at school, they'll find any reason [to bully] really. It's kind of indiscriminate in a way. The discrimination is indiscriminate.

I wore my heart on my sleeve. I was an easy target. I was a bit weird and I think I just didn’t really fit in. I remember when I was younger I had some Tourette’s-type ticks and sorts of stuff that probably wasn’t helping. Things that I later somehow grew out of. But there were so many ways to pick on me back then (laughs).

There are loads of ways in which I was lucky as well. Very often you develop empathy by going through something yourself. And then ultimately you work out that it’s not really worth it to judge people based on whatever it is.

I’ve definitely come a long way in terms of going, "You know what, I’m tired of trying to fit in.” I know a lot of people would listen to that and go, “It doesn’t look like you ever did try to fit in,” but you’d be surprised.

EDM.com: I think because you went through all that, people hear this album and realize there’s a lot of shared experiences in there. It’s intrinsically empathetic. I see how people who considers themselves black sheep could really resonate.

James Blake: Yeah. It’s also how you relate to you family too, you know? When I was younger, being an only child—in lots of ways it’s great and then in other ways you can feel quite alienated because obviously the only people you’re talking to on a daily basis are quite different than you and a lot older.

If I’m an only child, how do I feel like the black sheep? It was part of an entire ecosystem of feeling that way. I love the idea of having more than one outlet to go and talk to about a problem.

James Blake performs at Hopscotch Music Festival in Raleigh, North Carolina in 2019.

Wikimedia Commons

EDM.com: Back to the album. The lockdown was lonely for many, but it was also an ideal time to analyze our friendships. Why is it so hard to move on from friends who failed to give you what you needed? Or is it easy?

James Blake: It’s easier and easier to not feel connected and empathetic, isn’t it, to people’s mind states. Not to be conspiratorial, but it helps keep us divided. The more isolated we are, the less effective we are as people, as members of society and community. And community is communication. The way forward has to be less tech, more chat.

EDM.com: Couldn't agree more. We'd be so much better off without social media.

James Blake: The funny thing is—and you'll resonate with this—my career would obviously not be the same. Maybe I wouldn't be here talking to you if it hadn't been for technology and the internet.

When I was coming up, a lot of people were making quite a big deal out of the fact that I was doing everything with a laptop. I was DIY music essentially. No engineer or big studio or that kind of stuff. But that actually affected me quite badly—having my entire career conducted from this computer. Staring at that screen all day takes away your... I felt very robot-like at the end of a session.

People would come into the studio in my house and be like, "Hey do you want some dinner? We're all going to eat together." And it was strange—I couldn't empathize. Because I’d just been staring at this fucking computer screen for six hours or whatever. And maybe not getting anywhere.

And it really interfered with my ability to socialize. If anything, when kids or anyone asks me now, what they should use to make music with, I say just go DAW-less. Try something else (laughs). Don’t do what I did.

EDM.com: It's tough to get yourself out of that zone, isn't it?

James Blake: I just felt like a stock trader or something. It’s a part of the brain that like, in music, is actually antithetical to emotional expression.

When I'm playing piano and having a great time or singing with friends, that's one side of it. And the other side of it is just sitting here staring at a screen. For way more hours. Because I'm basically editing a movie, constantly. And it's not really good for me, so I actually try and stay away from the computer as much as I can.

EDM.com: It's the tedious work like that that really affects your mental health.

James Blake: I’m trying to get closer to the actual expression of it. That’s what I’ve been trying to do for years, even though I know I’m known for doing this kind of cyborg mishmash of things. I have to balance it quite carefully, because otherwise I can go right down the rabbit hole and it’s not good for me.

EDM.com: Yeah, it can get very experimental at times. But how far do you go before you realize it's affecting you?

James Blake: You can just go on forever. If you want to, you can experiment for literal ever until a sound is beyond recognition and you are just dabbling in the unknown. And that’s really fun, but also sometimes, to get there, it’s like we’ve got to dedicate our bodies to this sort of computer overlord.

If a track feels good, than it just doesn’t matter what your theory was behind it. And I think that’s the beauty of dance music, is that it’s about experimentation and about making something feel potent. If it has a potency, it kind of almost doesn’t matter where that potency comes from. There’s a lot of dance music from all types that are just done with absolutely no musical theory knowledge whatsoever, and it’s probably some of the best ever made.

EDM.com: That's the beauty of it, isn't it? There's no "right" answer.

It’s a little like having a chat about the existence of God. We could posit many theories about what makes good dance music or good music in general, but ultimately it’s a feeling, isn’t it? You can’t download your experience into others or theirs into you.

Editor's Note: This interview was lightly edited and condensed for clarity.

from Best DJ Kit https://edm.com/features/james-blake-interview-grammy-before-ep