#probably the weirdest thing I’ve draw for this

[dont-hug-me-its-yuri]

Day 18 of dhmis oddtober: Picnic!!

(@persy-r-bozo)

[millionsknives]

i should have made my Special Guys poll into a tournament. that would have been 10x funnier

[pilot-boi]

Could you see Jaune having trouble with meat going forward because he just spent decades where everything was potentially human levels of sentience.

Jaune is poking at his food.

Which Yang knows isn’t THAT strange, he’s never been good at feeding himself when he’s down (a certain week at Beacon with a certain asshole who shall remain unnamed comes to mind) and Jaune certainly has more than enough reason to be out of sorts these days. Being young then old then young again would do that to a guy.

But this is different than his normal lack of appetite. He’s not just pushing his food around; he’s actively picking over pieces of it, almost putting them in his mouth, and then putting the food back on the plate. There’s a certain green around the gills look on her friend’s face that Yang’s come to associate with airship travel.

Not that she can blame him. The food in Vacuo isn’t what she’d call normal or appetizing, but with supplies limited they can’t turn up their noses, especially since they didn’t exactly give Vacuo time to prepare for an influx of refuges.

Still, eating worms, bats, and lizards has taken some getting used to.

“Are you gonna invite me to sit down, or do I have to keep lurking?” Yang quips, plopping down next to her fellow blonde. He jumps, predictably, but his startle instinct is less than it was a week ago. Baby steps.

“Oh! Yeah uh… hey.” He smiles sideways at her. “Did you need something?”

“Nah, not really,” she shrugs. “Just saw you sitting all by your lonesome and thought I’d join you.” She pokes at his food. “You gonna eat that?”

Jaune drops his gaze back to his plate, and once again his expression turns queasy. Like a toddler faced with a plate full of vegetables. Strange, Yang never took Jaune for a picky eater, but then again he did eat almost exclusively dinosaur chicken nuggets back at Beacon.

“It’s looking at me,” he groans, poking at the side of a roasted lizard. It flops over and he shudders.

“So do fish,” Yang says bluntly, dropping an arm around his shoulders. “And I’ve seen Blake eat those heads and all.”

“You know shockingly you’re not helping.”

“Come on, this can’t be the weirdest thing you’ve eaten.” She leans in conspiratorially, lowers her voice. “I mean I was only in the Ever After for a day or two but that parfait-” Yang is fully about to launch into a tirade on the pros and cons of growgurt parfait, but something makes her pause.

The fork is rattling in his grip. Her eyes narrow. That’s not just nausea. A glass dropped in a kitchen miles away comes to mind.

“Jaune…” Yang trails off. Are you alright? What’s wrong? Do you need to talk? She can probably guess the answers to all three questions, but none really feel appropriate in the middle of a cafeteria.

So she draws on the only other well of experience she has. Being a big sister to a very picky eater.

“What’s wrong with the food?” Blunt, but sometimes it’s best to cut to the heart of the issue. “Is there something else you’d rather have?”

“Not meat,” Jaune replies without hesitation, and Yang is admittedly taken aback. He’s never been a carnivore by any means, but his aforementioned love of dino nuggets barred him from vegetarianism.

Yang looks back down at his plate. The lizard is still looking at them, and Jaune is very determinately not making eye contact. “If this is still about the eyes, I’m sure that-”

“No. No it’s not,” Jaune cuts her off, shaking his head. “Well I mean, a little bit, but.” He plops his head down in his hand. Glances sideways at her, and then away again. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Yang is almost offended that he thinks SHE of all people might laugh at him for what is obviously a trauma response. Friendly negging, sure, but never laughter. She wouldn’t do that to anyone, let alone him. But then a certain magenta and cyan cat with a wicked grin and sharp tongue comes to mind, and she’s reminded that laughter in the face of pain is probably all he’s known for years.

She hates that fucking cat.

“I promise, Jaune. I won’t laugh.”

He studies her for more than a moment, searching her face for any hint of insincerity. Of course finding none, he sighs. “You remember Little?”

Yang blinks. Not where she thought this was going. Roll with the punches. “Yeah. Kinda hard to forget a talking mouse.”

“Right. Yeah, of course.” Jaune laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. He scratches at the back of his neck, reaching for a ponytail that isn’t there. “Stupid of me.”

Yang grabs his hand, and he starts. “Hey. None of that,” she reprimands, stopping his downward spiral before it has time to start. Her thumb rubs a circle in his palm, and she can feel him untense. “What about Little?”

“They’re why I don’t wanna eat meat,” he admits. He's speaking quickly, like the words are being drawn out of him.

No laughing, not now, but Yang can’t help her skeptical look. Little, by their own admission, had never been away from home. And sure, Jaune was there for decades, but he didn’t seem to know the mouse.

Jaune sees her look and clarifies. “Well not them specifically, but like… the Afterans. Everything there was so… alive, they could talk, think for themselves. Everything. The mice, rabbits, deer, birds…”

His grip tightens on her hand. “I didn’t have a choice in the beginning. It wasn’t fun, but what else could I do? I had to eat, and after the clock fruit I didn’t trust the plants, so the animals…” Jaune swallows thickly. “The animals seemed like the safest bet.”

If her hand was flesh, she’s sure his nails would be biting into her skin. As it is, she can feel the way his hand is gripping hers like it’s the only thing keeping him from running. And it’s horrible, because Yang thinks she can see the end of the tunnel, the destination this story is going to.

“I knew how to do it. Hunt animals, I mean,” he says, his voice horribly detached. “I used to go hunting with my mom when the food stores were low. And in Mistral, with Ruby and Ren and Nora. So I knew how to catch an animal and skin it and cook it.”

Jaune laughs again. “It wasn’t pretty, Ren could definitely do a better job. So cooking and cleaning it wasn’t the worst part. The worst part…” He swallows thickly. “The worst part was killing it. It was alive, Yang. It was alive, and it was staring at me, and it didn’t want to die.” He stares down at the lizard on his plate. It stares back at him, accusing almost.

“How… how do you know it didn’t want to die?” Yang asks tentatively, even though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer.

“It told me.” His voice is horrible, wretched. The green is back in his cheeks and Yang hates that she now knows the reason why. “It told me! And I still killed it, and cooked it, and ate-” Jaune’s voice chokes off. The words seem to catch in his throat. “It was like… it was like eating…”

“Like eating a person,” Yang finishes, the train now having reached the horrible station. Jaune nods, horror stricken, and Yang trades which hand is holding his so she can rub circles into his back. He’s still just staring at his food. “Gods Jaune I… That’s so fucked, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I had to eat, or I’d die. And I couldn’t die because I had to wait for you all to arrive. So I had to eat.” The way he says it, so matter-of-fact, Yang can’t help but wonder what else he’s internalized as being what he had to do, no matter the harm it caused him.

She doesn’t know what to say. Picky eating, she could handle. Trauma, she could handle that, too. At least, to an extent. But sometimes it was just too much.

“How long?” Yang asks eventually. “You weren’t eating meat while we were there, how long did you have to do that?”

“A week. I think,” he responds. “Time was difficult.” And isn’t that the understatement of a century. “Once I found the Hunter Mice they showed me which plants were safe to eat. Some of them were hit and miss, but I was good from then on. Especially when I made it to the Market.”

The lizard stares up at them both. Yang glares back at it, as if the dead desert dweller was the one who sent Jaune back in time and made him so desperate to live that he was forced to… do that.

“So… no meat?”

“No meat,” Jaune confirms. “I could probably choke it down if needs must, but…”

“Not even dino nuggies?” she grins.

He barks out a laugh. “My only weakness. No, not yet.” Not yet. That was better than she was expecting. His cheeks are still a little green, but he’s not shaking anymore at least. “Maybe at some point, but not now. No meat.” He grimaces, poking at the lizard. “And especially none with eyes.”

“Well in that case, come on.” Yang stands. He finally pulls his eyes away from the plate, and blinks up at her. “Let’s go!”

“Go where?”

“To find you something to eat!” Hand still firmly clasped around his, she hauls him up and scoops the unwanted plate up in the other. “I’m sure Sun knows someplace around here that serves vegetarian options.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” Jaune protests. “I already ruined your whole lunch with this.” He gestures vaguely between himself and the plate.

“No way, you didn’t do anything.” Yang jabs a finger in his chest. “If you need an ear to listen, I’m happy to be there. You’re not imposing, you’re not too much, I’ve got you.” She doesn’t tell people that enough. A tea cup and a wooden tomb. She needs to tell people that more. “I’m buying you lunch. Veggies. Fruits. You name it, you get it.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I really think I do.”

“I’m not going to change your mind about this, am I?” he smiled, allowing Yang to drag him from the cafeteria.

“No-sir-ee bob,” she said, swinging his hand back and forth. “You are not leaving my side until we get some desert fresh veggies in your stomach.” She passed the uneaten plate to a volunteer by the door. “My treat.”

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello! Do you have any recommendations for ttrpgs like Kentucky Route Zero?

THEME: Kentucky Route Zero

Hello, I looked up Kentucky Route Zero for the first time thanks to your ask and I understand why you’d want to find a game that replicates it to some degree. Let’s establish what elements of KRZ I’m focusing on when providing recommendations.

The game is modern, and feels transient in some way.

The game offers a subtle or unsubtle critique of capitalism.

The game allows for magical realism, in that odd things are accepted by the characters as fact, or disregarded entirely. This is used to draw attention to the strange and might even highlight abuses of power.

The game allows you to contribute to the lore, but characters still feel to some extent that their choices won’t take them where they want to go.

Now, the games I’ve got for you don’t necessarily have all of these elements written in, but I’m suggesting them as avenues that are more likely to point you in this direction.

Over the Edge, by Atlas Games.

During your stay with us, please remember that Liberty is Job One, Disarmament Means Peace, It's Polite to Speak English, and, of course, Paranormal Activity is perfectly legal.Thank you for your consent.

The Edge is the weirdest city in the world. Get into trouble. Question your place in the crazed multiverse. Transcend mortal limits. Join a cult. Fight a baboon. Along the way, you might find out who really controls humanity. Unless, of course, you've been working for Them all along.

Over the Edge describes itself as an alternate reality; there are otherworldly entities, large conspiracies, psychic powers, etc. Characters follow “Hollywood” reality: they exist at the culmination of plot-relevant world elements, interacting directly with the conspiracies existing underneath the surface. You are playing a typical protagonist. This means that while playing this game, you are likely to run into pulp-action territory, which might not be exactly what we’re going for here, but what I think this game might really do well is place you in a setting where things are just a little bit off from normal. One of the pieces of art in the Quickstart is of a lady walking her pet hyena: that tells me that we’re probably going to have hefty amounts of Magical Realism in this game.

Midnight Roads, for World of Darkness, by White Wolf.

The roads are lovely, dark and deep…

There are things in the world that no laws account for – things that bestow blessings no man remembers or curses for slights long past. But the things, they do not forget. They wait for the right hand to fall upon them, the right eyes to see their glory, the right heart to recognize their power.

World of Darkness is a long-standing horror roleplaying game originally published by White Wolf. Currently the system Midnight Roads is built for is actually obsolete - having been replaced by the newer Chronicles of Darkness - but the advice and guidance in Midnight Roads is still solid. It focuses on tying real-world fears to supernatural phenomena, and includes a number of example antagonists that make the blank stretches of open road across the United States feel alien and terrifying. Even if you don’t run a game in this system, I highly recommend checking out the supplement for inspiration.

Apocalypse Roadtrip, by Mynar Lenahan.

Apocalypse Roadtrip is a 34-page Forged In The Dark game for 2-5 players about normal people finding their way after the world has ended. Navigating their way past roaming Kaiju, military bombings, otherworldly cryptids, UFO fleets, and other survivors (friendly and not), the characters work hard to achieve their goals and, ultimately, make some changes in their world.

This game is great if you’re looking for that perpetual on-the-road feeling, for transient characters who don’t have a good place to call home. It’s less about the horrors of late-stage capitalism, and is more suited to stories that embrace oddness, especially in a settings where Kaiju, cryptids, and aliens all exist.

If you want to make the weirdness normalized, push the timeline forward from what is established in the book, to a point where all of these events have become old hat for folks - if the aliens and cryptids aren’t weird or strange, perhaps what is weird is how one specific Cryptid keeps entering the chicken coop and doesn’t seem to eat any of the chickens. Or perhaps the government has confiscated a piece of alien technology, but the business owner who found it isn’t acting the same anymore. Your characters will probably find themselves doing odd jobs as the move from one place to another - whether or not they uncover a larger story is probably up to you.

Absurdia, by Quinn Majeski.

Absurdia is an absurdist modern fantasy roleplaying game about the inane hilarity and understated horror of everyday life. Inspired by works of absurd humor, surreal horror, and literary nonsense like Welcome to Night Vale, Alice in Wonderland, Gravity Falls, and the Twilight Zone, Absurdia is an opportunity to indulge in the surreal and outlandish while subverting the absurdity of modern society.

This game takes place in a strange and surreal town of your own making. It's Powered by the Apocalypse, which means much of the direction of the story will unfold as you play, with staggered successes on anything that requires you to roll - this means that any given action is likely to give you a little bit of what you're looking for while also providing obstacles that you didn't expect. It's also well primed for a magical realist kind of atmosphere, since the abnormal and supernatural might be part of the everyday, such as it is for the residents of Night Vale. The designer, Quinn, is excellent at running games that always keep the play group on their toes, and I expect this game designed by them is much the same.

Liminal Horror (and supplements), by Goblin Archives

Liminal Horror brings adaptable modern horror to TTRPGs. It is a rules-lite, fail forward system that leverages creative problem solving in order to create memorable experiences at the table. Players act as 'investigators' navigating a modern world full of terrible and unknowable horrors.

I’m recommending Liminal Horror not just because it does an excellent job of building suspense and making your characters feel less-than-powerful, but also because it’s got a lot of modules and add-ons that help you customize your game. Swineheart Motel, by Kill Jester, is a cosmic horror adventure set in a roadside motel. Tunnels in White, by MeatCastle GameWare, places an old corporation front and centre as a suspicious entity disappearing locals. The Bloom, by Goblin Archives, is about a small town that is hiding something, and seems to be losing people at an alarming rate. You can also tweak the premise of the game if you want to make your characters indentured to their employer, or freelancers just trying to make ends meet.

If you want to see more Liminal Horror options, you can check out the Tales from The Void, a game jam for Liminal Horror modules!

Hopes & Dreams by Fari RPGS (René-Pier Deshaies).

Hopes & Dreams is a rules-lite tabletop role-playing game where you play as young adults who want to make a difference in a world that won’t let them. Government officials are corrupted, your leaders are broken, and the future looks bleak.  Play in this original grunge industrial fantasy setting where you and your friends haven’t abandoned hope yet. You still have dreams of what life could be, and are willing to fight for it.

Hopes & Dreams has a lot of potential to give you a taste of Kentucky Route Zero, in the hopefulness present as a mechanic. Dreams & Nightmares are goals and tracks that hit off at a certain point and are guaranteed to shift the story in what might feel like moments that your character can’t control. Fill your Dream? The world changes for the better. Fill your Nightmare? The world changes for the worse. The original game is industrial fantasy but I can see you using the SRD to make a game that is cyberpunk, modern dystopia, or an alternative Kentucky where Consolidated Power is buying up your debt so that they can get free labour.

If you want to get a bit of a peek into the bones of Hopes & Dreams from the point of view of the designer, you can check out this review by Junk History, which includes an interview with René-Pier Deshaies.

[jellyshark-jester]

Reverse 1999 oc: slight change to Dengra’s design

And their insight II splash art (low effort) gonna reexplain them dhdhihdih with slightly more info

Dengrea, one of the fastest swimmer, weirdest marine biologist and resourceful ocean/underwater caves expeditioner in the foundation. They’re just a silly little guy that may or may not have interest in cannibalising their teammates, friends and most humanoids around them… very normal and silly. On the outer exterior they seem cold and maybe a little bit of a rude stuck up prick but they’re just autistic with a little bit of sass (hehe snag sass) tho they’re actually a massive cry baby, that loves affection but is bad at it and have the worst case of self control when it comes to cuteness aggression, basically just a silly guy. They’re childhood friends with quite a few of the people in the foundation that’s their age like in their 20s *cough cough* Lilya<3 but they opted to worked alone for a few years now~ only recently they’ve been put in teams with others.

Origins: unknown, found in a lab as a little snag.

They stand at 5feet tall, usually find them in their diving suit, helmet, a leather jacket and leather flared pants that’s easily removed. They’d either be somewhere “working” in an underwater cave or find them napping in the lab.

Their rarity is a 5*, Beast type that doses reality damage and is categorised from the beyond section in the files.

I’d like to keep their naga form the same cuz I still like the “fluffy” feathery giant fat hognose snake. Their scales are long, sharp and shaped like feathers, it’s not the best for slithering on land and is a bit too heavy for flying but it makes up for being very fast underwater and any wet surfaces. Also I like to add that in their insight II they have snakes slithering around them on their body.

They can fly but it requires a lot of energy and is a bit slow… as they’re made for diving and all that jazz

I’m adding old illustration for context nsjidnijdhd and more info down here:

(Old drawing of naga and a very old lidrea art probably the first one ndjdhjhd)

Then their relationship with Lilya<33 it’s kinda weird cuz I didn’t make them a thing I just made them friends cuz.. well I was a Tennant simp and yeah.. but I realised I kinda like Lilya more sbhshiuhdkj but how I’ve decided to do this is they used to be pretty good friends but grew distant later on in life so it’s a bit awkward for both of them.

Silly little facts: lesbian, gay gay gay homosexual gay. If they don’t have their helmet on they will just chomp anyone… they have a sweet tooth like cake, sweet snacks and the flesh of mortals. They sleep for 2 hours(when they’re in bed) a day and 8 hours for naps (I know weird but this is at work) they’re pretty efficient in their field of work, it’s just their work ethics comes into play when you find them napping on the labs floor… which isn’t a good look…. For them, basically a silly guy… or a weirdo both works.

I think that’s it hehe

[snailmail444]

Boo! I'm being nosy!!

2, 6, 15, 32, 38, 42, aaaaaand 50 (is there something you wish your mutuals knew about you?)!

2 Well if we’re talking food wise I would pick Pepsi over Cheetos. HOWEVER in terms of color it is Cheetos bag orange ALL the way I am having an orange love era rn. I think it’s a really fine nice color to play with :3

6 oooh well in terms of SDV I stay on discord with @maylilithreign @birdielouwho and @beegyoshiwitdaheat and I love you of course moot @hopefuloverfury there are more beloved blogs and mutuals but I don’t wanna notify a billion people so we’ll keep that list short LOL

In terms of NOT SDV we’ve got my beloved. My favorite. Bee @pbflutist love you hiiiiiii

15 Weirdest would probably be appendicitis. I had it for uhh. Too long. Perhaps. And when I say too long I mean like a month. It was chronic appendicitis and I was really sick for a decent chunk of time with that one lol. My favorite two truths and a lie factoid

32 I’m a pencil person I need to be able to ERASE!! Chronically misspelling shit lol

38 THIS ONE is a joke with bee that was basically that I would send her smut via snail mail (printed out and sent through the US postal system). And then the 444 is simply. A vibe.

42 Earphones for life. Same me earphones. Earphones save me. I work in a cubical with other people around so I gotta be able to listen to my nonsense in peace lol.

50 What I want moots to know. The biggest thing that I don’t always say but isn’t necessarily a secret is that in my day life I’m actually a graphic designer/illustrator. I don’t draw a whole ton in my free time but it’s the other half of my creative passion. It’s a little funny because most of the people in my writing sphere don’t know that I make art, and most people in my day to day life don’t know that I write. Sort of creative double life I guess. I’m super passionate about it though! I especially love graphic design and then illustration when I have time is wonderful. If I can ever get my shit together I really want to make a comic so that I can bash my passions into one big creation. Just gotta actually. You know. Do it. lol

I should draw more. I always say that but it’s true. If anybody ever missed it this is my favorite piece of art I’ve made for the fandom.

LOVE YOU MOOT SO HAPPY TO SER YOU MOOT 💞💞💞💞💞

[berrypass-de-murdler]

32. The Case of the Lab with Legal Issues

happy derpy murdler noises

One of Fletch's favorite episodes because it has both Mauve and Slate in it!!! <3

I love Irratino so much (breaking news) and he is unsurprisingly way too much fun to write so I tend to overextend his dialogue

Fletch says she's going to make Principal Applegreen, and while I don't have the faintest idea what he's going to look like, she does, and he apparently is going to look nothing like Assistant Applegreen and also be part mop so... huh???

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

Plot Device Irratino, I mean the institute, sends Logi to a mad scientist lab, and the assistant scientist died. There’s a new person, named Principal Applegreen, who is Assistant’s father. There’s also Slate and Mauve!! <3

MAUVE: Want to step into my metaverse?

Logico hides under a table, but Slate pokes him out.

SLATE: Hello logic.  LOGICO: hello slate ;;

Anyway, an investigate, and it’s so much fun with Mauv and Slatu.

SLATE: Hi.

One of the weapons is a brain in a jar!

LOGICO: EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWW! WHY THE FUUUUCK?! SLATE: It’s as clear as the… moon Principal Applegreen brought a… brain in a jar? MAUVE: I know you dearly. [pats her]

Logico calls in Irratino because he doesn’t know what else to do.

IRRATINO: I’ve been fasting for 48 hours and I’ve been so hungry, I actually started to hallucinate! LOGICO: I MEAN ABOUT THE MURDER YOU IGNORAMUS. IRRATINO: No that’s the thing! My visions gave me a sight of a drop of unknown fluid on a gurney! Probably because of the medical restaurant documentary I watched last night. LOGICO: I want you to die. 

Logico don't say that. But as it turns out, Mauve was working with the scientist for metaverse stuff. And then she got annoyed by the assistant...

MAUVE: This is why we need a metaverse! You can't get arrested in a metaverse! SLATE: Oh that Vice President Mauve.

The end!

Cartoon Mauve has the weirdest voice that I can barely describe, it's like all raspy and not feminine at all?? Idk I do voiceovers for her lol

Am I physically capable of not drawing them???

pick up the p e n g u i n

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[ponds-of-ink]

Quick Scraptrap And Y/N Fic: “A Question Answered”

AKA “How to drive Scraptrap’s soul up the wall in five seconds with a simple hand hold”

So this concept crossed my mind today, and I thought it’d be funny to write a short scene about it. Have fun trying to put yourself in this Y/N’s shoes.

—

It was the standard routine for you: Man the office while Mike was out for coffee, ward off who—or whatever— was in the vents, then run out the door as soon as Mike walked back in. Ten minutes at worst, three minutes at best. Nothing to worry about there.

So then why was your mind racing when it should’ve been preparing some quips?

You shut your eyes and breathed deep. Memories of your fellow handy-folks’ conversations drowned out your growing anxiety— If only for a moment.

“So, you’d get anywhere with Ol’ Spring-Bones?” you can practically hear Joe ask one of the janitors.

“Not really,” you recall the janitor telling him. “He’s still insisting I have Tori dump a bucket of water on him. Something about his suit being a death trap if anyone touched it.”

“His whole body’s a death trap,” was one of the last things you heard Joe scoff before you moved to another room. Of course, this was only one of many conversations you heard about the oh-so-elusive Scraptrap. The numerous health requirements from both staff and the robot itself. The countless jokes from the janitors about the obvious degradation of the animatronic. Even your own reports on the off-chance he was the one attacking you that day. All of these, over time, built a strange reputation for him. A looming sense of dread whenever you heard him in the vents, a hint of pity whenever the cleaning requests put him in further isolation, and—weirdest of all—a strong curiosity about one particular subject.

What would happen if you held his hand?

You open your eyes, but keep your head low. One of your gloved hands picks up Mike’s pen and flicks it from side to side. Its clicking only makes your mood worse. “He’ll probably just hide in the vents like always,” you think as you stare listlessly. “He only climbs out of there to attack Mike— And that’s if he’s the only one in there.”

The pen leans to one side. You straighten up, getting ready to lean back in that chair.

A rhythmic thumping hits your left ear. You glance in that direction.

Either that’s him or his pigtailed protégée.

You roll the chair a bit closer to the vent.

The thumping keeps going. And, as far as you can tell, there’s no whirring of plastic wheels after each thunk. Not even after it stops completely.

Before your brain makes the full connection, unfortunately, you hear the source confirm your suspicions. “Did you miss me, Broomstick?” a raspy voice asks, its mocking tone drawing out each ‘s’. “It has been a while, but I was not expecting you to be anticipating me.”

The “nickname” jolts you back into reality. Then the rambling after it gives you an idea. “Scraptrap, the only thing I’ve missed is how quiet it gets when it’s just you around,” you huff, leaning back as you do your strongest eye-roll. “You’re so shy for a killer robot, it’s hysterical.”

You can practically hear the servos in Scraptrap’s head whirring. “Being ‘shy’ is not my intention when dealing with employees like you,” he snips, inching closer to the tiniest bit of light. “I am simply being practical. Tactical, even.”

“So what’s tactical about only letting Tori dump a bucket of water on you when it’s cleaning time?” you cut in, tugging your gloves down. “Or rejecting the main janitor’s idea of giving you a brush ‘bath’? Mike’s paid top-dollar for us, and we definitely know how to mess with horrors like you.”

All you catch is a nervous shiver, then a grumble.

“What was that?” you question flatly, even though your brain is starting to think of exit strategies.

Another shiver, though now it’s punctuated by an irritated sigh. “In that area. I am simply acting with practicality in mind,” he insists. “No need to drive M— your employer’s business into the ground with all the hospital bills he would accumulate. No matter how much you lot prepare, there is nothing to protect you from the rot of the undead.”

You stare at the shadowy figure. Though your expression stays the same, you feel a smile coming on. A smile that you can bet this dumb bunny’s pulled once or twice before. “Is that so?” you ask, using that as your cue to slowly rise to your feet.

In a matter of seconds, the nearly-visible rabbit starts retreating back into the shadows. You calmly walk to the side of the vent, but something seems to prompt Scraptrap to… fumble out of the vent seconds later. You peer down the shaft, but nothing else shows up.

You look back at Scraptrap. He’s using the office chair as a crutch, but the lack of a second arm really isn’t helping him get back to his feet. “Well, better this than risking getting stabbed,” you think as you start to approach.

Scraptrap, on the other hand, gives a furious glare. “I advise you to leave me be,” he says with a gnash of his robotic teeth. “It will take a moment, but you will be regretting all of your countless questions.”

You stop in front of him, then rest your arm on the chair. A full minute passes… And he’s still struggling. “I’m sure I’ll regret it once I’m in the hospital,” you respond, using your free arm to hoist him back up to his feet. “At least I’ll have a funny story to tell when I get back.”

The only response Scraptrap gives is a wide-eyed look towards your hand. And, yes, the both of you are holding hands currently. Given the circumstances, that didn’t really mean anything on your end. Just a happenstance of trying to help someone out, that’s all.

But for Scraptrap?

He must’ve not had basic human contact in years, because the rest of his body is trembling. You can hear the metallic parts of his bones rattling on top of the clearly-pounding heartbeat, that’s how extreme it is. It would be almost endearing if it wasn’t for how unnerving he looked when only his eyes freely move.

So you decide to help him out one more time. “You can let go now,” you tell him, clearing your throat to punctuate your sentence.

Thankfully, this seems to work. “Right,” Scraptrap mumbles before carefully unraveling his bony fingers from yours. “My apologies.”

“It’s all good,” you say with a nonchalant shrug. “Just try to make sure your arm’s wrapped around mine nexf time, all right?”

He’s back to the indistinct mumbling, but his body language tells you that he agrees. With a quickness you weren’t expecting, he hobbles past you and beelines for the other vent. You watch as he cautiously climbs back in, then looks back at you. “You may as well promise that we never speak of this until it is necessary,” he sneers.

With an extra amount of caution, you sit back down in the chair. “All right, but what do I tell Mike?” you inquire as you remove your gloves. “I’m sure you don’t want rumors spreading around the workplace.” You wink at the end of that last sentence just to rub it in.

“You simply tell the truth,” Scraptrap replies in a deadpan tone. “We got into a scuffle, I fell onto the floor, and you helped me back up. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So I can’t mention you hand-holding with Broomstick?” you pout.

Scraptrap just disappears into the darkness.

And, to be honest, that was probably the best response he could’ve given. It made you chuckle to yourself as you kept office-watching, it told you everything he wanted to without staying and fumbling his words like a shy schoolgirl, and it kept the other robots at bay in the long run. The smartest move all-round, if not the smartest he’s ever made.

..Now if only you could figure out why the office lights were threatening to shut off all of a sudden.

[melonlthawne]

On a scale of 1 to 10 (with 1 being tested patience and 10 the destruction of either Central or Keystone city) how bad do you think Wally babysitting Bart in your baby Bart au go?

Probably a sold 7 or 8. This question is so funny to me because no matter the universe no matter the backstory no matter his age, bart will very rarely ever listen or follow Wally’s orders. Even as a little kid Bart will certainly not give a crap if he is stressing Wally out. He will find ways to unintentionally make the entire occasion unbearable. I think it’s pretty established in the writing and art I’ve done of this au that Bart really ONLY listens to iris, Mel, and occasionally Barry. (Could probably add Linda to that list in the future) Wally is not an exception.

Bart will manage to do the weirdest things that one would think is impossible. You’d probably figure a baby cannot cause such trouble but the fact Barts a speedster just makes everything way worse (at least for Wally). bart will end up in weird places because he doesn’t know his own speed and power at this size. Wally thinks he’s keeping a good eye on him but one look away and bart is probably in another room or another home or another city or another dimension even. Might even end up speedracer’ing into wherever Mel is, just by chance!!!

And like, a baby has no morality. Normal Bart can be chaotic and cunning when he chooses to be even though he’s a good hearted person but baby Bart will not soften his obvious dislike for Wally. Wally will get kicked and punched by baby Bart because he WILL voice his displeasure in some form of way or contact. And like, what is Wally gonna do? He’s not gonna fight a baby. He just has to put up with it for the greater good.

I have so many thoughts on this thank u for asking 🥺 I might even add some drawings later if I feel up to it

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Reader) - Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n)’s eyes snap open and she sits bolt upright. Her dream had felt so real, and yet, so distant and strange that it couldn’t possibly be true.

“Hey, you okay?” (Y/n) looks over to find Piper sitting by her bedside, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“What?” (Y/n) replies, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Yeah.”

Piper frowns, looking more worried.

“I -” (Y/n) bites her lip, trying to hold back her tears. From everything she’d heard about behind a half-blood, her dream was probably really true. Then she turns to study Piper. “Where’s Leo and Jason?”

“Leo’s with his cabinmates, and Jason is with Annabeth,” Piper replies.

(Y/n) nods distractedly before she meets Piper’s kaleidoscope gaze again, “Are you okay?” she asks. “You passed out.”

“Mhm,” Piper replies. “Rachel got possessed by Hera and gave me a death mission - free her from a prison.”

“You won’t have to do it alone,” (Y/n) replies, trying to comfort her friend, but her words seem to make Piper sadder.

Piper looks like she wants to say something, but she is interrupted by the sound of a conch horn.

“Dinner?” (Y/n) asks.

“You slept through it,” Piper replies. “I think it's time for the campfire.”

. . .

The whole campfire idea freaks Piper out. It makes her think of the huge purple bonfire in her dreams, and her father tied to a steak.

What Piper gets instead is almost as terrifying: a sing-along. The amphitheater steps are carved into the side of a hill, facing a stone-lined fire pit. Fifty or sixty kids fill the rows, clustered into groups under various banners.

(Y/n) spots Annabeth up front, next to Jason. Leo is nearby, sitting with a bunch of burly-looking campers under a steel gray banner emblazoned with a hammer. Standing in front of the fire, half a dozen campers with guitars and strange old-fashioned harps - lyres? - are jumping around, leading a song about pieces of armor, something about how their grandmothers got dressed for war. Everything is singing with them and making gestures for the pieces of armor and joking around.

This is quite possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, Piper thinks. This is totally one of those campfire songs that would’ve been embarrassing in daylight, but in the dark, with everybody participating, it’s kinda corny and fun. As the energy level gets higher, the flames do as well, turning from red to orange to gold.

Finally, the song ends with rowdy applause. A guy on a horse trots up; at least in the flickering light, Piper thinks the guy is on a horse, and then she realizes that he’s a centaur - a white stallion on the bottom half, and the top is a middle-aged buy with curly hair and a trimmed beard. He brandished a spear impaled with toasted marshmallows. “Very nice! And a special welcome to our new arrivals. I am Chiron, camp activities director, and I’m happy you have all arrived here alive and with most of your limbs attached. In a moment, I promise we’|l get to the s’mores, but first -”

“What about capture the flag?” somebody yells; grumbling breaks out among some kids in armor, sitting under a red banner with the emblem of a boar’s head.

“Yes,” the centaur says. “I know the Ares Cabin is anxious to return to the woods for our regular games.”

“And kill people!” one of them shouts.

“That might not be good for anybody’s health,” (Y/n) says, and she blinks with surprise to realize she’d spoken aloud, but then she laughs nervously while the other campers laugh at her joke.

(Y/n) glances over, meeting Piper’s gaze, smiling confusedly, and then she shrugs.

“However,” Chiron says, once everyone stops laughing, “until the dragon is brought under control, that won’t be possible. Cabin Nine, anything to report on that?”

Chiron turns to Leo’s group. Leo winks at Piper and shoots her with a finger gun. The girl next to him stands uncomfortably. She’s wearing an army jacket a lot like Leo’s, with her hair covered in a red bandanna. “We’re working on it.”

More grumbling.

“How, Nyssa?” an Ares kid demands.

“Really hard,” the girl replies. Nyssa sits down to a lot of yelling and complaining, which causes the fire to sputter chaotically. Chiron stamps his hoof against the fire pit stones - bang, bang, bang - and the campers fall silent.

“We will have to be patient,” Chiron says. “In the meantime, we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

“Percy?” someone asks. The fire dims even further, but Piper doesn’t need the mood flames to sense the crowd to sense the crowd’s anxiety.

Chiron gestures to Annabeth. She takes a deep breath and stands.

“I didn’t find Percy,” she announces. Her voice catches a little when she says his name. “He wasn’t at the Grand Canyon like I thought. But we’re not giving up. We’ve got teams everywhere. Grover, Tyson, Nico, the Hunters of Artemis - everyone’s out looking. We will find him. Chiron’s talking about something different. A new quest.”

“It’s the Great Prophecy, isn’t it?” a girl calls out.

Everyone turns. The voice had come from a group in back, sitting under a rose-colored banner with a dove emblem. They’d been chatting among themselves and not paying much attention until their leader stood up: Drew.

Everyone else looks surprised. Apparently Drew didn’t address the crowd very often.

“Drew?” Annabeth replies. “What do you mean?”

“Well, come on.” Drew spreads her hands like the truth was obvious. “Olympus is closed. Both Percy and (Y/n) disappeared. Hera sends you a vision and you come back with three new demigods in one day and (Y/n). I mean, something weird is going on. The Great Prophecy has started, right?”

Piper whispers to Rachel, “What’s she talking about - the Great Prophecy?”

Then Piper realizes that everyone else is looking at Rachel, too.

“Well?” Drew calls down. “You’re the oracle. Has it started or not?”

(Y/n)’s eyes glaze over.

Nico runs in from the street, and his face tells (Y/n) that something is wrong.

“It’s Rachel,” he says. “I just ran into her down on 32nd Street.”

Annabeth frowns. “What’s she done this time?”

"It's where she's gone," Nico replies. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took Blackjack and -"

“Die?” (Y/n) echoes. “She took Blackjack?”

Nico nods. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp."

. . .

“What was she thinking?” Annabeth says as they run for the river. Unfortunately, (Y/n) has a pretty good idea, and it fills her with dread.

The traffic is terrible. Everyone is out on the streets, gawking at the war zone damage. Police sirens wail on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away. (Y/n) would've settled for some Party Ponies, but they had disappeared along with most of the root beer in Midtown. So they run, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clog the sidewalks.

“She’ll never get through the defenses,” Annabeth says. “Peleus will eat her.”

(Y/n) hadn’t considered that. The Mist wouldn’t fool her girlfriend like it would most people. She’d be able to find Camp no problem, but (Y/n) had been hoping that the magical barriers would just keep Rachel out - like a forcefield. It hadn’t occurred to her that the dragon might eat her.

“We have to hurry,” Percy says, catching the worried look on his twin sister’s face. “I don’t suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses.”

The Son of Hades wheezes as he runs. “So tired . . . couldn’t summon a dog bone.”

Finally, the demigods scramble over the embankment to the shore, and (Y/n) lets out a loud whistle, but she hates doing it. Even with the sand dollar she and Percy had given the East River for a magical cleaning, the water here is still polluted. (Y/n) didn’t want to make any sea animals sick, but they came to her call.

Four wake lines appear in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi break the surface. They whinny unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They are beautiful creatures, with multicolored fish tails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front is much bigger than the others - a ride fit for a Cyclops.

"Rainbow!" I called. "How's it going, buddy?"

He neighs a complaint.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," (Y/n) replies. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."

He snorts.

"Tyson?" Percy says. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops

Army."

"NEEEEIGGGGH!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride . . ."

In no time, Annabeth, Nico, Percy and (Y/n) are zipping up the East River faster than jet skis. They speed under the Throgs Neck Bridge and head for Long Island Sound.

. . .

It seems like forever to (Y/n) until they see the beach at camp. The demigods thank the hippocampi and wade ashore, only to find Argus waiting for them. He is standing in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at them.

“Is she here?” (Y/n) asks, worried for her girlfriend’s safety. Argus nods grimly.

“Is everything okay?” Annabeth says; Argus shakes his head.

The four demigods follow Argus up the trail. It’s surreal being back at camp. Nothing’s burning. No wounded fighters, (Y/n) thinks. The cabins are bright in the sunlight, and the fields glitter with dew. But the camp is empty.

Up at the Big House, the demigods notice something is obviously wrong. Green light is shooting out all the windows, just as (Y/n) had seen in her dream about May Castellan. Mist - the magical kind - swirls around the yard. Chiron lies on a horse-sized stretcher by the volleyball pit, a bunch of satyrs standing around him.

Blackjack canters nervously in the grass. Don’t blame me, boss! The pegasus pleads when he sees (Y/n). Your girl made me do it!

Rachel Elizabeth Dare stands at the bottom of the porch stairs. Her arms are raised, like she is waiting for someone inside the house to throw her a ball.

“What’s she doing?” Annabeth demands. “How did she get past the barriers?”

"She flew," one of the satyrs says, looking accusingly at Blackjack. "Right past the dragon, right through the magic boundaries."

"Rachel!” (Y/n) calls, but the satyrs stop her when she tries to go any closer.

"(Y/n), don't," Chiron warns. He winces as he tries to move. His left arm is in a sling, his two back legs are in splints, and his head is wrapped in bandages. "You can't interrupt."

"I thought you explained things to her!"

"I did. And I invited her here."

(Y/n) stares at him in disbelief. "You said you'd never let anyone try again! You said —"

"I know what I said, (Y/n). But I was wrong. Rachel had a vision about the curse of Hades. She believes it may be lifted now. She convinced me she deserves a chance."

"And if the curse isn't lifted? If Hades hasn't gotten to that yet, she'll go crazy!"

The Mist swirls around Rachel. She shivers like she is going into shock.

"Hey!" (Y/n) shouts. "Stop!"

(Y/n) runs towards her, ignoring the satyrs. She gets within ten feet and hits something like an invisible beach ball; bounces back and lands in the grass.

Rachel opens her eyes and turns. She looks like she was sleepwalking — like she could see (Y/n), but only in a dream.

"It's all right." Her voice sounds far away. "This is why I've come."

"You'll be destroyed!"

She shakes her head. "This is where I belong, (Y/n). I finally understand why."

It sounded too much like what May Castellan had said. I have to stop her, but (Y/n) can’t even get to her feet.

The house rumbles. The door flies open and green light pours out. (Y/n) recognizes the warm musty smell of snakes.

Mist curls into a hundred smoky serpents, slithering up the porch columns, curling around the house.

And then the Oracle appears in the doorway.

The withered mummy shuffles forward in her rainbow dress. She looks even worse than usual, her hair was falling out in clumps, and leathery skin was cracking like the seat of a worn-out bus. Her glassy eyes stare blankly into space, but (Y/n) gets the creepiest feeling she was being drawn straight towards Rachel.

Rachel holds out her arms. She doesn’t look scared. "You've waited too long," Rachel says. "But I'm here now."

The sun blazes more brightly. A man appears above the porch, floating in the air — a blond dude in a white toga, with sunglasses and a cocky smile.

"Apollo," (Y/n) murmurs.

He winks at her but holds up his finger to his lips.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he says. "You have the gift of prophecy. But it is also a curse. Are you sure you want this?"

Rachel nods. "It's my destiny."

"Do you accept the risks?"

"I do."

"Then proceed," the god says.

Rachel closes her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate."

(Y/n) doesn’t know where she is getting the words, but they flow out of her as the Mist thickens. A green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoils from the mummy's mouth and slithers down the stairs, curling affectionately around Rachel's feet. The Oracle's mummy crumbles, falling away until it was nothing but a pile of dust in an old tie-dyed dress. Mist envelopes Rachel in a column.

For a moment (Y/n) can’t see her at all. Then the smoke clears.

Rachel collapses and curls into the fetal position. Annabeth, Nico, Percy, and (Y/n) rush forward, but Apollo says, "Stop! This is the most delicate part."

"What's going on?" (Y/n) demands. "What do you mean?"

Apollo studies Rachel with concern. "Either the spirit takes hold, or it doesn't."

"And if it doesn't?" Annabeth asks.

"Five syllables," Apollo replies, counting them on his fingers. "That would be real bad."

Despite Apollo's warning, (Y/n) runs forward and kneels over Rachel. The smell of the attic is gone. The Mist sinks into the ground and the green light fades. But Rachel is still pale. She is barely breathing.

Then her eyes flutter open. She focuses on (Y/n) with difficulty. "(Y/n)."

"Are you okay?"

She tries to sit up. “Ow,” she presses her hands to her temples.

“Rachel,” Nico says, “your life aura almost faded completely. I could see you dying.”

“I’m all right,” she murmurs in reply. “Please help me up. The visions – they’re a little disorienting.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” (Y/n) asks.

Apollo drifts down from the porch. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the new Oracle of Delphi.”

“You’re kidding,” Annabeth says.

Rachel manages a weak smile. “It’s a little surprising to me too, but this is my fate. I saw it when I was in New York. I know why I was born with true sight. I was meant to become the Oracle.”

(Y/n) blinks. “You mean, you can tell the future now?”

“Not all the time,” she replies. “But there are visions, words in my mind. When someone asks me a question, I . . . Oh no –”

“It’s starting,” Apollo announces.

Rachel doubles over like someone had punched her. Then she stands straight up and her eyes glow serpent green.

When she speaks, her voice sounds tripled – like three Rachels are talking at once:

(Y/n) snaps back to the present and says: “Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire the world must fall –”

Jason shoots to his feet. His eyes are wild, like he’d just been tasered.

Rachel seems caught off guard – but her friend’s outburst and Jason’s jump to his feet. “J-jason?” she says. “What’s –”

“Ut cum spiritu postrema sacramentum dejuremus, ” he chants. “Et hostes ornamenta addent ad ianuam necem.”

An uneasy silence settles on the group. Piper can see from their faces that several of them are trying to translate the lines. She can tell it’s Latin.

“An oath to keep with a final breath. And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.” (Y/n) finishes.

“You just . . .” Rachel glances between the two demigods, “finished the known part of the prophecy.”

“Known?” (Y/n) questions, and Rachel nods reluctantly.

“Last night, I had a vision, revealing the final lines of the prophecy. It went like this: Child of the Sea will accompany the Seven. And drop into endless darkness.”

(Y/n) meets her ex-girlfriend’s gaze and can tell from the look in her eyes that Rachel thought that that part of the prophecy was about her.

“We hoped that the prophecy wouldn’t be starting for a few years, but I fear it’s starting now. I can’t give you proof. It’s just a feeling. And like Drew said, some weird stuff is happening. The seven - plus the ‘Child of the Sea’ - whoever they are, have not been fathered yet. I have the feeling some of them are here tonight. Some are not.

The campers begin to stir and mutter, looking at each other nervously, until a drowsy voice in the crowd calls out, “I’m here! Oh . . . were you calling roll?”

“Go back to sleep, Clovis,” someone yells, and a lot of people laugh.

“Anyway,” Rachel continues, “we don’t know what the Great Prophecy means. We don’t know what challenge the demigods will face, but since the first Great Prophecy predicted the Titan War, we can guess the second Great Prophecy will predict something at least that bad.”

“Or worse,” Chiron murmurs. Maybe he didn’t mean for everyone to hear, but they did. The campfire immediately turns dark purple, just like Piper’s dream.

(Y/n), who had turned to murmur a question to Piper, sees the terrified look in the demigod’s eyes, and grabs her friend’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“What we do know,” Rachel says, getting the attention of the campers again, “is that the first phase has begun. A major problem has arisen, and we need a quest to solve it. Hera, the Queen of the Gods, has been taken.”

Shocked silence. Then fifty demigods start talking at once.

Chiron pounds his hoof again, but Rachel still has to wait before she can get their attention.

She tells the other demigods about the incident on the Grand Canyon skywalk – how Gleeson Hedge had sacrificed himself when the storm spirits attacked, and how the spirits had warned that it was only the beginning. They apparently served some great mistress who would destroy all demigods. Then she tells them about Piper passing out in Hera’s cabin. Piper tries to keep a calm expression, even when she notices Drew in the back row, pantomiming a faint, and her friends giggling. Finally, Rachel tells them about Jason’s vision in the Big House. The message Hera had delivered there was so similar that Piper gets a chill. The only difference: Hera had warned Piper not to betray her: Bow to his will, and their king shall rise, dooming us all. Hera knew about the giant’s threat. But if that was true, Piper wonders, why hadn’t she warned Jason, and exposed me as an enemy agent?

“Jason,” Rachel says. “Um . . . do you remember your last name?”

The blonde looks self-conscious, but he shakes his head.

“We’ll just call you Jason, then,” Rachel says. “It’s clear Hera herself has issued you a quest.” She pauses, as if giving Jason a chance to protest his destiny. Everyone’s eyes are on him, yet he looks brave and determined, and (Y/n) admires the way he sets his jaw and nods. “You must save Hera to prevent a great evil,” Rachel continues. “Some sort of king from rising. For reasons we don’t yet understand, it must happen by the winter solstice, only four days from now.

“That’s the council day of the gods,” Annabeth says. “If the gods don’t already know Hera’s gone, they will definitely notice her absence by then. They’ll probably break out fighting, accusing each other of taking her. That’s what they usually do.”

The winter solstice,” Chiron speaks up, “is also the time of greatest darkness. The gods gather that day, as mortals always have, because there is strength in numbers. The solstice is a day when evil magic is strong. Ancient magic, older than the gods. It is a day when things . . . stir.”

The way he sounds it sounds absolutely sinister.

“Okay,” Annabeth says, glaring at the centaur. “Thank you, Captain Sunshine. Whatever’s going on, I agree with Rachel. Jason has been chosen to lead this quest, so –”

“Why hasn’t he been claimed?” somebody from the Ares cabin yells. “If he’s so important –”

“He has been claimed,” Chiron announces. “Long ago. Jason, give them a demonstration.”

Word Count: 3531 words

Taglist:

@camaddison​​

@steinfellds​​

@p-taryn-dactyl​​

@oculusalien​​

@@pink-widows

@unlikelysublimekryptonite

@yellowvxbes

@decadentrebelkitten

@eevil-empress

@anteroz

@mag-mfm

@26randomness

@cair-paravel-narnia

@hayhaythegaygay

[notwhatiam]

OKAY.

So.

I was on a call with my parents today.

We were talking about the Inside Job cancellation, because I’ve been really upset about it and they were actually the ones who got me into the show in the first place. I was saying how weird and unfair it was that it just got pulled out of the blue, when my dad chimed in with something along the lines of, “yeah, but it’s not as though this kind of thing hasn’t happened to the show before. Remember that episode from the end of Part 1 that Netflix ended up taking down?”

And I was immediately like

And my mom and dad were like, “yeah, you don’t remember? That episode at the end of the first part of Season 1. The one with Reagan’s childhood friend that Rand erased from her memory.”

I said, yeah, the part where Reagan goes into her own mind and discovers that she had a friend named Orrin that Rand made her forget. At the end of the episode, she goes back to the present and uses his name as the password to shut down Bear-O and save her friends. That episode is still on Netflix. It didn’t go anywhere.

They were like, “no, but then there’s another episode AFTER that. The one where we find out what actually HAPPENED to Orrin.”

According to them, there was a lost eleventh episode after Inside Reagan. This episode revealed that Rand had trapped Orrin in a cartoon-inspired play land where he had been stuck for the last twenty years. Everyone in the real world thought he had died, and his dad had turned into a broken-down shell of a man over the loss of his son. Reagan and Rand ended up going into the cartoon world to try to save him, and they found out that Orrin had been surviving the whole time by breeding with the cartoon creatures and eating their offspring. They said that they were really confused when they went back to rewatch the first season and the episode wasn’t there, but they could also understand why it had been taken down, because it was honestly one of the most disturbing pieces of television that they had ever seen.

At this point in the conversation, I just assumed that they were messing with me. It’s not like they don’t have a history of pulling twisted shit like this (for context: my dad told me to start watching Inside Job in the first place because he relates to Rand and thought I’d relate to Reagan, and he was 100% right), so I asked them straight-up if they were trying to play some kind of prank. A “ha-ha, you made your own Mandela-effect-style conspiracy” type of prank. They swore up and down that they weren’t lying, and that they both distinctly remembered watching this episode together. They were shocked that I had never seen it, and the entire time over the past year and a half that we’ve been talking about the show, they had thought that this was a part of our shared experience.

So commenced the weirdest Googling spree that I have ever been a part of. I looked for “Inside Job lost episode”, “Inside Job episode 11”, and then a lot of stuff like, “kid gets trapped in cartoon world and mates with creatures to eat their offspring” (which provided a LOT of results, but nothing useful for any purpose except probably for sending the FBI to my house). My parents kept searching for stuff based on details that they could recall from the episode (for example: they remembered a specific moment where Reagan jumped off a cliff and discovered that the ground was bouncy), but they couldn’t find anything on their end. I asked them if they were absolutely sure that this was part of Inside Job, and they weren’t just mixing it up with another show. They were both completely certain that it had been Inside Job, and my parents don’t watch that much animation, so it would have been pretty hard for them to draw on anything else. I went through the Tumblr tag for Orrin Carthwait again, and it was all speculation about what COULD have happened to him, which meant that nobody else had seen this mystery episode, either. Besides, I love this show, and I practically live on Inside Job Tumblr, so if a lost episode existed somewhere, I have a really hard time believing that I wouldn’t have come across it. We’ve been on the phone for an hour at this point. My parents are going through their Netflix history trying to figure out what the fuck they watched. Meanwhile, I’m just lying face-down on the floor having a meltdown because I’m convinced that my parents and I live in different realities. The thing was, it wasn’t a totally impossible scenario? The story did seem to fit together fairly well with the parts of the show that I knew. Also, there’s an episode of Gravity Falls (which was made by a lot of the same people who made Inside Job, and contains a lot of similar themes) where Mabel gets trapped in a cartoonish fantasy land that sounds fairly similar:

So, maybe it was possible that Inside Job contained the more adult version? There’s also the fact that Alex Hirsch did that thing where he basically long-form gaslit the GF fandom back in the day by releasing fake footage of a nonexistent spoiler to throw people off the trail when theories started getting too accurate (I’m too lazy to find a post to link; just look it up if you don’t know about this). Maybe the creators were trying to mess with people by releasing an episode to only a handful of viewers and then yanking it, thus creating a conspiracy about the show in itself? Still, it wouldn’t make sense that EVERY trace of the episode would be wiped from existence. You’d think somebody would be talking about it somewhere. I started wondering if maybe it was possible that I HAD actually seen it, and just didn’t remember it. The thing was, it did actually sound really familiar, and some of the details my parents were describing felt way too clear in my mind. Did I just block it out? Where was it, then? I was absolutely losing my fucking mind at this point, so I started a last-ditch effort to just go through any adult animation shows I could think of and read the synopses of every single episode to see if one matched the description. And finally, FINALLY,

I found the bitch.

It’s Rick and Morty, Season 3, Episode 9: “The ABCs of Beth.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it, so I guess I forgot most of the details. Rewatching it back, though, it’s undoubtedly the same story that my parents were describing. The episode is about Beth discovering that Rick trapped her childhood friend, Tommy, in a fantasy play land of his own design called “Froopyland”. She goes back to try to save him, and discovers that he’s been surviving there the whole time by mating with the Froopyland creatures and then eating their kids. The story is basically about Beth coming to terms with the fact that, while her dad is a really fucked-up person, she isn’t entirely unlike him (for better or worse). Honestly, I can understand why my parents’ minds conflated this episode with the ending of Inside Job. The design of Tommy:

Could conceivably be an adult Orrin:

And a lot of the themes about dysfunctional family and fucked-up childhoods (including missing childhood friends) are actually incredibly similar.

Still, I can’t believe that I was actually briefly led to think that there was a lost episode of my favorite show that I had never seen, which was either purged from the collective consciousness or deleted from my own personal memory. This is the worst thing that my parents have ever done. If I ever go to a therapist, they’ll be hearing about this first.

[philipjohnclapp]

Ryan Dunn hcs!!! ♡

Ryan Dunn Headcanons

A/N: I have no clue what I am doing, I’ve never written for him so these are just silly things. Leave more requests please.

- Dunn and Knoxville are literally like best friends; try and convince me otherwise.

- It goes Bam, and then Knoxville. They are really close.

- Dunn definitely keeps his cigarettes boxes when he’s done smoking the cigarette and he gives them to Spike.

- Spike uses the cigarette boxes to store Polaroids taken of the guys; he has boxes upon boxes of them.

- Johnny & him are drinking buddy’s and they drink together often.

- He is the one person you could share a hotel room with and he wouldn’t fuck with you; probably.

- Only mess with you if someone talks him into it.

- He definitely uses soap to wash your dishes to clean his body.

- Has gotten some sort of UTI from it.

- Dunn definitely takes the most freaky nude pictures doing the weirdest shit because he finds it funny.

- He will mail one of the guys at least once a year 100 empty boxes from the ups store.

- For free because he thinks it’s a waste to spend money on.

- He collects lighters, older ones/mostly zippos because he thinks they look cool.

- Also, he started to collect those little match books. And he swore he wouldn’t use them; but he eventually did.

- As a prank Bam set his matchbooks on fire, and Dunn let lose a shit tone of snakes in his room.

- He also slept with whatever chick Bam was seeing at the time.

- Dunn doesn’t really care for Ville, he thinks he’s a cocky asshole.

- Definitely gets jealous when Bam and Ville spend a lot of time together.

- He also pranks Ville, but he pranks him relentlessly.

- Johnny helps and he also finds it funny.

- He definitely babysits Madison all the time, and he loves her. He’s like an uncle to her.

- He let her design a tattoo for him when she was young; it was horrible but it’s his favorite tattoo.

- He kept the original drawing and he has it framed somewhere in his house.

- His guilty pleasure is he listens to country music.

[bluestrawberrybunny]

Theres a mental image stuck in my brain.

Where Eternity!Smg6 is just holding the Bunny form of Smg5 while probably thinking how to murder everything in sight.

(Also, hope you're doing ok today! Saw your post about what happened)

My brain is the weirdest thing I have, but also the silliest. :P

Hehe. I didn’t quite know how to draw that, and I’ve been busy writing.

I’m doing alright. Got into a bad car accident, but I’m ok. Physically… y’know the adrenaline was in high gear when as soon as you get home you take a 3 hour Power Nap despite having had a large cup of coffee to stave off the physical and mental exhaustion.

But yeah, I’m ok now. Just a tad bit stressed and terrified to drive ever again :)

[sebsxphia]

My darling Sebbie, it's all good, don't worry, like I said, I flushed the little vampire quicker than you could blink (lol).

Oooh but keeping in with the pussy inspections, I had a bit of a thot the other day when I was running some errands (lol).

Perhaps Bob's doing some kind of journal on sacred anatomy or something like that and he's doing pages on the reproductive systems so he's inspecting and feeling so that he can get ideas for his illustrations. You laugh a little bit too when you see a very well drawn puss with all the parts labeled and all kinds of intricately growing plants around it.

I know this is probably the weirdest thing I've ever done Seb, but I remember looking at a set of sacred anatomy cards with all the flowers growing out of the bones and around the organs and they were GORGEOUS.

ah, that’s a relief, my love! omg, but this thought! yes, yes, yes! as i’ve mentioned before, i know bobby is such a good artist and he’s drawn multiple nude portraits of yourself. but, after seeing such anatomy cards, he gets the inspiration to do his own with you as his muse. your pussy is the prettiest thing to him. why wouldn’t he draw it in such intimate detail? thank you so much for this incredible thot, my love! 💌

[spice-and-fire]

TIMING: Recent LOCATION: Worm Row PARTIES: @plunderwater x @spice-and-fire SUMMARY: Devi & Shan reunite. For better or for worse. (Probably for the worse.) CONTENT: Alcoholism (someone gets wasted) & vomiting (someone vomits because she gets wasted)

“I don’t suppose any of you would rather settle this over a game of cards,” Devi suggested, stepping on a single Queen of Hearts on the ground as she backed away, having unintentionally dropped a few cards from her personal collection even before she had started speaking. “...a little Black Jack? Maybe a couple of beers, too! First round’s on me, if you’d like?” She was hugging a wall in a dark alley, her back feeling the cold, stiff hardness of the solid surface, as she wiped the spit off her mouth with a thumb. “Hell, I’d even be up for a game of Crazy Eights. I’m not that good at it, but I can manage.”

“No takers, huh?” Her words were met by silence. Devi sneered, shaking her head. “All right, but unfortunately for you…” She reloaded her biceps, prepping for a fight. “...I’ve got you surrounded.” Her bravado wasn’t false, even as she stood her ground, herself all alone against eight other thugs, all of them furious that she had beaten them a few days ago when she was just doing her job, protecting a client from their attempted shakedown. 

Meanwhile, at Harborside, Shan was about to leave her teahouse, which was more modern and…sugary than the traditional fare, than she personally liked, when a small child came stumbling out of the shadows. With an eyebrow raised, she looked around, making sure no one else was there. Once she realized it was just the two of them, the secretive selkie made her way to the street rat, who quietly mumbled something only she could hear before running back toward the shadows. Not the weirdest thing that has happened to her in town. Or anywhere else. She doubted that would change. “What a drag…”

Groaning, Shan rolled her eyes and went back inside the teahouse, Mist Tea Boba, and straight into her makeshift office, which she rarely used outside of official tea shop owner business. She wasted no time in unlocking a drawer with a key that was hidden inside the locket strapped around her neck and immediately rummaged through the papers in that same drawer. Squinting, she could barely make sense of the letters she was skimming through in that terrible lighting. She could’ve turned on the light, sure, but she was in a hurry. When she found what she needed to find, a figurative lightbulb shone brightly above her head and a triumphant smirk conquered her lips. “Things are about to get dicey…”

As they began to move toward her, Devi threw the first punch. Or at least tried to. Seemed the guys knew what they were doing and waited for her to down all those beers at the Wormhole just a few minutes ago. Despite being intoxicated, obviously, she realized she was being followed as soon as she got out of the bar. Not wanting to put anyone else in danger, she had lured her stalkers to this dark alley, failing to realize there were more than three of them. The guy she had tried to punch first easily dodged her attempt and instead struck her in the gut. 

“Oof!” Devi was sent back again, back-first, against the wall behind her. “Haven’t had enough yet, huh?” They descended on her like a pack of wolves. Or maybe more appropriately like a group of sharks, whatever those were called, after drawing first blood. One of them punched her straight in her face, which she tried to dodge but couldn’t. Another kicked her in the back, a cool move to see but a very painful one to experience. A third slammed her back into the wall with a side kick, as if establishing his dominance over a pathetic prey. 

“Little advice?” Devi spat before pulling herself up from the ground. “If you’re going to beat someone down in a dark alley? Make sure you’re not leaving yourselves vulnerable from behind.”

Crack! The guy at the farthest back fell to the ground, having been tapped on the shoulder, only to receive a kick in the face when he turned to see what that was all about. At the commotion, the rest of the thugs turned around, taking a step back, distancing themselves safely from both sides of possible danger. Shan stood tall behind them, grinning from ear to ear, a playful smirk on her luscious lips. “Sweetie, you’re drunk.”

One of the remaining hooligans threw a punch at her, but Shan was nothing if not quick, agile, and she managed to effortlessly dodge the strike, swiftly grabbing the same man’s arm and using his own momentum to whip him toward his friend. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she purred, taking to the other woman’s side. Going back to back might give them a much better chance to survive the attack. Then again, Shan has survived worse on her own. “Something came up at the teahouse, and I needed to make sure — Is this another one of your fancy midnight brawls, Chopra? I know I’m a few hours late, but why do these charming fellows seem…hellbent on seeing you dead?” 

“And you’re late, darling,” Devi did not appreciate being called out like that, but it was what it was. Her occasional employer wasn’t someone she’d agree with on a daily basis, not even on an hourly basis, but she did pay her good money and she was, well, very hot. If there were two things that could always sway the tempered phoenix’s opinion, it was the amount she was getting paid and how attractive her employer was. Doesn’t always work, though. Pitted against each other, money vs. hotness won’t always end the same way. “But I wasn’t going to mention that.” 

Devi heaved a sigh, shaking her head, “Something always comes up.” She threw a punch at an oncoming thug, and despite her intoxication, still managed to make the hit, forcing the unlucky dude to stumble back toward another one of them. Without missing a beat, she then placed her back against Shan’s, readying a standard defense against a numbers advantage. What else could they do? Old her would have set the guys on fire but she’s a much better person now. Still getting into drunken fights in dark alleys but no longer setting folks on fire.

“It was a…misunderstanding,” Devi was technically correct. If these guys actually understood the situation, not to mention the cause of all this, she doubted they’d intentionally offer themselves up as prey for the phoenix. “You got your business, and I got mine.”

She did. Shan had business that was different from that of Devi's and vice versa. While she considered the freelance security girl as a mere blue collar hand with a hidden darkness on the side — after all how would anyone not have that kind of streak with that kind of job — the selkie considered her business much darker and more an acquired taste. Not everyone can survive in her world of secrets and betrayals and, well, disappearances. Devi was a good weapon, but she was just a weapon. Shan was the black heart drenched in the oily globs of often-immoral necessities.

“We’re not having this conversation while you’re drunk,” Shan rolled her eyes as she kicked another thug off of her. The boys after Devi didn’t seem like they were any good at this. If they were, one of the girls would have been on the ground now. But maybe they were just distracted. Maybe they just didn’t expect another pretty face to join in on the fun. Some guys are all talk, all bark, but when presented with more than one woman, they’d falter, only confident against a lone target. Some girls were like that, too. But there were no girls in their opposition at the moment.

“Darling, we haven’t had this conversation…” Devi stopped herself mid-sentence. She felt something brewing deep within her. Not the flames of rage, no. Not an enlightening development, a realization from the divine that could help change something on a much grander scale than anyone would have ever expected. No. What she was giving birth to was not anything positive. It was definitely not something she’d intentionally call forth, even wish for. “Oh...no.”

Now, to be fair, Devi hasn’t lost a drinking game. Not once in recent memory. But, if her memory serves her correctly, she has not drunk so much and then gotten into a fight thereafter. She instinctively puffed her cheeks, turning to Shan with a horrified look. Never mind the still standing thugs still wanting a piece of them. Never mind the threat of physical hurt surrounding the both of them. What could flow out of her right then and there would be worse. So much worse. 

“Don’t you dare!” Shan screamed. Honestly. Not a single attempt to hide her disdain for that possible end. There was no need to. Why would she even try disguising that disgust? Most normal people would hate that, especially when the...explosion would hit them. Shan was especially annoyed, considering she had her favorite fur coat on. At least let the girl take it off before you shower her with…fluids. Even that’s beyond my threshold. 

Fortunately for Shan, one of the thugs lunged at her again. Taking the opportunity, she threw herself at him, deftly dodging his thrown punch to instead slither around him, over his body, taking him down with a submission hold worthy of the Octagon. Shan was no avid fan of fighting sports, but she’s learned a few things from those folks. While she wasn’t as physically imposing or impressive as Devi, she was more limber and dare she believe a lot more creative. Her attacker found himself on the ground, screaming in pain, while the selkie effortlessly tugged on his vulnerable arm. One wrong move, that arm would go off. Its socket. Literally. 

A thug tried to help free his friend from Shan’s impressive submission hold, but Devi intercepted him with an effortless knockout punch. Stealing a glimpse at the woman on the ground, her limbs wrapped around her prey, the tempered phoenix couldn’t help but grow a little bit envious…of her prey. In fact, Devi took too long staring at them with a devilish smirk that another thug, the only one still standing, hit her with a straight jab in the face, sending her stumbling back in a drunken haze. “Ow! Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to hit a beautiful woman in the face?”

The man mumbled something crude, sexist, and honestly, surprisingly violent. It was one of those gross things a stupid “manly man” liked to throw at a cornered woman, a sample of disgusting verbiage from a deluded self-proclaimed predator when trying to break down a victim, its prey. Unfortunately for this idiot, Devi didn’t like the idea of being seen as a victim. Even if she was, technically, she’d rather be seen as a survivor. That was emphasized by her battle cry, a thunderous roar that spooked the guy when it came out of nowhere and rendered him defenseless to a pair of punches that inevitably ended his night.

“YOU NEVER SPEAK TO A LADY THAT WAY, YOU SORRY EXCUSE FOR A TADPOLE!”

“If I remember correctly, we agreed to meet at the Wormhole,” Shan shook her head, arms crossed, as the last of the thugs were finally vanquished. She had let go of her own victim, kicked him in the face to immediately knock him out, and picked herself off the ground, dusting her clothes and her body for any unwanted gravel or sand. There was a moment when she considered just biting a chunk out of the unruly boy’s neck, a well-deserved fate for someone so eager to muddy up her outfit. But Devi was already screaming in rage, and she thought it better not to add to that display of savagery. “...not some back-alley dumpster filled with hooligans.”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing new about having to save you from yet another drunken misunderstanding, Devi,” Shan shook her head, helping the intoxicated woman on her feet, as the pair made their way to Devi’s apartment. This wasn’t the first time she had to bail the tempered phoenix out of a misjudged bout, though to be fair, the latter had saved her from a few deathly predicaments as well. It was perhaps one of the reasons why the selkie had a soft spot for her. Another was that she was cute. 

Once they had arrived at D’Arden House, Shan took Devi’s key from inside her pocket, and with the phoenix’s arm still over her neck, brought them both inside, but not before locking the door behind them. Worm Row was not a place to be lax, complacent, and even though Shan didn’t live there, she has had many dealings with the more flexible folks in need of a few bills to pay their rent. One of them, she gracefully deposited on her bed. 

“I was only trying to spice things up,” Devi groaned as she laid on the bed. All alone. Limbs sprawled everywhere and nowhere. Her entire, uncooperative body taking up much of the space. Sweat drenched most of her, the tight contact between her back and the sheets only inspiring them to make her feel even hotter, and not in a good way. Her insides were spinning, not to mention her head. She’s always been better at controlling her alcohol, but the fight and the fact that she had thought Shan had once again stood her up made that less of a priority in the past few hours. 

“You wound me, darling,” Devi groaned again, taking her hand off her head and instead placing a handkerchief over her eyes. She tried to make herself feel better by moving her entire body. Big mistake. She just felt even more nauseated, almost to the point of letting it all go right then and there. “...and slightly nauseate me. Mind holding still for a bit?” If she was in her right mind, she would’ve balked at that imagery herself. This beautiful East Asian woman of mystery? Nauseating? The world has gone to hell, and Devi would have fought herself.

Shan had begun pacing at the foot of Devi’s bed, “And here I was, thinking maybe we could finally have a night to ourselves. Our first in — who even knows how long? I thought we’d finally get a chance to reconnect, to establish a new normal now that we’ve found each other again after all these years. But I guess old habits truly die hard.” She brought her A-game with that monologue, making sure to emphasize that this was all the phoenix’s fault while at the same time not making the effort to hide the fact that it was all a ploy meant to tease her in her current condition.

Once the intoxicated woman made the request, Shan acknowledged and indulged it without outright referencing the matter, instead sitting gracefully on the edge of the same bed, as carefully as she could. “I did warn you about that, sweetie,” she groaned before taking out her purse, water resistant by necessity. “Too much of a good thing, that isn’t me, will only lead to your suffering!”

Devi groaned, stealing a glimpse of Shan from underneath the handkerchief that was over her eyes, “That’s not funny.” It was. At least if she was sober, it would’ve been. But she was feeling all sorts of woozy at the moment, making her sense of humor a bit off, maybe more out like a light than she was thankfully. Shan wasn’t lying, though: They met each other a few years back, lost contact for a while, and were now unexpectedly reunited in this weird, small town. Coincidence? Most likely, but she didn’t count the selkie’s schemes out. Shan always had something up her sleeves. Whether she wore them or not.

“By the way, you said something came up at Mist Tea?” Devi had visited the place only once, under the selkie’s request, but it was mostly for another unrelated job. She promised to visit again, next time outside of work hours, but never did. The place was too swanky for the phoenix, and she was a little embarrassed at the fact that she might not be that financially flexible to visit a sugary sweet tea shop on her own time. Still, she made plans. Still do. “Did something happen?” 

Devi groaned again, slowly lifting herself out of the bed, forcing her body to settle for a sitting position, determined to hear whatever made the selkie late for their alone time. Despite Shan being sneaky, Devi gave her the benefit of the doubt, specifically that she wanted to hang out with zero strings attached. “Tell me.”

“Funny? I’m not trying to be funny,” Shan raised an eyebrow, continuing to take things out of her purse, mostly papers, also water resistant. She smirked at Devi, also continuing to throw shade at her and at the same time foreshadowing something else, someone else, a familiar face. To both of them. “There’s only one joke in this room.”

“Something will happen,” Shan emphasized the second word in that statement, heaving a sigh as she presented a photo in Devi’s face. “ — and while I have no qualms about interrupting your alleyway brawls — ” The photo was of a man, though it was not a portrait of the man. The photo was taken on higher ground, without the man’s permission, or more importantly, knowledge. “I would not have gotten late if it was not important.”

“For now, I need you to trust me,” Shan removed all other notions on her face, except for dire seriousness. This part? It could not be misconstrued as anything but serious. “I need you to help me get this man. You remember him don’t you?”

Devi squinted. The man was familiar, but how? Why? She tried to rummage through her brain to find the answers to those questions but could barely make sense of the memories that came flooding to her. This is why you should never drink at work. Before work. Something like that. She heaved a sigh, annoyed at herself. Why did she drink so much? Just because she thought Shan had stood her up? They’re not even together. Yet.

But then it all started to make sense to her. Slowly, the man’s face started to reveal itself to Devi, specifically the reason why it was so familiar. She had worked with him before. Helped her get to places she needed to, mostly as another hired help by a previous employer. He had a shop, too, a place where he kept his cars, his tools, not all of them legal, not all of them safe, not all of them…normal. Devi never asked for his name, but he was introduced to her as… “The mechanic?”

“The transporter,” Shan corrected her, even though Devi wasn’t wrong. Ewan Falcone was a mechanic these days, in Worm Row of all places, but he was still semi-active as a transporter of most things barely legal. He used to be a mercenary, too. Among other things. They’ve each had a brush or two with Falcone, if she remembered correctly. The selkie had even hired him before. This time, however, she would not. Could not. “I can’t trust just anyone with this information, Devi.”

“The time has come to take him off the board,” Shan continued, shaking her head. There was no other way to say it, no other way she felt she could get the point across. The man was going to get in the way of their plans, her plans, and Devi was the only person in town she trusted to get the job done. Of course, the selkie could get it done herself, but her association with the man might be too recent — He could remember her before she could get any closer. Like in that botched job with the pretty little thing that betrayed her. “It is imperative that we bring him down.”

“Hold on,” Devi shook her head in confused protest. Big mistake. Doing so only aggravated her throbbing headache. Still, she fought through it, against that annoying pain, as she knew she had more important matters to contend with. “You haven’t even told me what’s going to happen, but you want us to take out this guy?” She yoinked the photo from the selkie’s hands, put it closer to her face so she could squint at it, and then presented the face to the other woman again. Needlessly so. “Is it important now? Or can it be important later?”

Devi heaved a sigh. Normally, she didn’t ask for more information than what was given to her…if by normally, she meant in her old life. As a mercenary. A gun-for-hire. A soldier who took down anyone and everyone for money. But that was all in the past. She wasn’t that girl anymore. These days, she needs more information than a target’s face. Can’t secure a place, or a person, if you don’t know what’s coming for it, them. “This isn't a lot of information, darling. Actually, it’s no information.”

“It’s not that complicated, sweetie,” Shan frowned, placing a hand on Devi’s face. It was genuine. This time. She truly felt like a mother explaining to her daughter a sad or tragic event. But she immediately shook it off, not wanting to be Devi’s mother. That would make things extra weird, especially since she thought she was attractive and thought even more inappropriate things for the two of them. The fact that the phoenix was barely at her best didn’t help. Shan wondered if she had rushed things? Maybe they could take it slow. Even if she wanted to get on top of things right now, Devi was in no state of mind to function efficiently. “Perhaps I can explain later once you’re feeling, thinking much better?”

“I understand that I’m asking for your blind trust in me, Devi,” Shan heaved a sigh. Normally, this whole thing didn’t bother her. She’d just forgo the emotional anchors, easily dupe someone into doing her bidding or helping her at least. But the phoenix was different. She was a friend. Perhaps she was even more than a friend. She had duped her before, yes, but that was before they knew each other, before she’d come to know her. The selkie sincerely pleaded for her close ally’s help. “This matter is delicate, and there is no one I trust more than you. Whatever trust you have left — Please place it in me now.”

Devi squinted at Shan, crossing her arms over her chest. The selkie’s touch was nice, made her feel warm, but the rest of those words were a bit more complicated to her ear and mind. The tempered phoenix took her time, thinking things through. It just wasn’t about trust for her. She’d go over the moon for the selkie. Truth was, it was more about going in blind. Devi has done that, never liked it. But for Shan? Well, she’d go over the moon AND back for her. Even blind as a bat. Simple as that. “Great. Then we need to find the mechanic, transporter, that guy…”

“Anything else you can tell me?” Devi reached out and held her hand, as if pleading for more information than she was given. If you’re going to send a soldier to war, at least give her a weapon, even if it’s just a small knife. Better yet, give her armor, something to make her feel safe and not just another tool, another fodder. There isn't a lot a soldier would ask for, as following orders for the common good is what a soldier's supposed to do, but you could make the blind trust thing a whole lot easier. Without saying those things and more, Devi tried to plead her case to Shan.

Shan heaved a sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had no doubt Devi would trust her, as there was no reason not to, at least not in this situation. Everything she had said was truthful, genuine, though some things were of course better left unsaid. “I can tell you where to find Ewan Falcone, of course, because I’ll be going with you,” she shrugged, gently caressing the phoenix’s hands. “But you’ll be the one who has to convince him, by any means necessary, considering he may not trust me.”

Falcone had all the right reasons not to trust the selkie. After all, their last job together didn’t exactly endear Shan to the man. Who would, when the job ended miserably, and the selkie bolted to save herself, leaving him to fend for himself, and with a clear disadvantage, having his face exposed and his only way out lost to their hunters. “Falcone…will not blindly follow my…directive...ever again. He may assist us through your call, but he follows his own agenda. And there’s a very good chance…” The best chance indeed. “That he won’t come with us willingly.”

Devi heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest once more. This time, she also closed her eyes, as if that would help as she tried to go over everything that was shared with her. It wasn’t much, it was barely anything, but she did trust Shan, even if she had a reason not to after their past encounter. People change, the tempered phoenix believed in that, so she had no reason to not give Shan the benefit of the doubt. If she didn't, then that would mean she couldn’t do the same for herself, and she was the one who needed that whole thing to be true. People have to change, including her. Especially her. 

“Alright then,” she heaved yet another sigh before opening her eyes, an eyebrow raised at the attractive woman with her. Her lips slowly curled into a playful smirk…before all the bad things rose up from inside her. Fighting after those bottles was not a good idea, and even though she’d vow to herself she’d never do it again, it was the least awful thing that’s happened to her, that she’s experienced, that involved her. “But first, let me take a nap,” Devi plopped backward into the bed, immediately surrendering to slumber. “It’s not like we need to do all that right away, right?”

“Right,” Shan heaved a defeated sigh, a weak smile forming across her lips. A part of her wanted the job to be done right away, so they could quickly move on and do something else. She would never lie about wanting to spend more time with Devi, time that wasn’t spent on the clock in business terms, time that wasn’t always running against them, putting them in danger. Devi could handle danger, she knew that, and she could handle it herself as well, but some days, it just gets too much, and all the selkie just wanted to do was hang out with someone she didn’t need to lie to, to put up defensive barriers again. “Take your nap, Devi. Tomorrow can wait.”

Rising from her seat on the bed, the selkie took a good long look at the sleeping phoenix before making her way to the table with a massive mirror, perfect for doing one’s make-up. Except Shan didn’t need to do her make-up. There was no need to. Instead, while still standing, she looked at her own reflection before taking off her white fur coat, the one that hid her pelt within. It wasn’t as heavy or as thick as most fur coats, instead weighed only by the malfunctioning pelt that was most of it, the fur coat exterior a thin mask to hide the true danger within. 

Shan had the thing made by a spellcaster that traded craftsmanship for magic, and despite her better judgment, she ignored the pelt’s hunger for the long-term investment. Better judgment then, at least. Clearly, the trade worked in her favor. She smiled at the thought, placing the coat over the table’s chair, before crawling into bed next to the unconscious Devi. With a smile, she looked at the other woman, heaving a sigh that felt more like peace than anything else. At least for a few hours, she would have peace. Then the cycle of survival begins anew.

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

✨Super random early morning thoughts.✨

I am 100% fine with watching, reading, drawing gory and graphic whump content. I eat that shit up and savor it…

But I can’t fucking stand watching a single meatcanyon video. Don’t ask me why, I don’t have the answer. I genuinely just get so screamish and like cringe at disturbing scenes. It’s the weirdest thing.

Torture, kidnapping, abuse, pet whump, non-con, whatever the hell you can think of, for the most part I’m totally okay and don’t even blink an eye. MEATCANYON! No… just no. His videos are too good for me not to get the worst butterflies in my stomach I’ve ever felt. He’s so creative in the most horrifying way.

I can’t tell if im complaining or complimenting him. Both probably.

- 🪻