#reanimation rumble

[canonaspecswag]

Preliminaries have begun!

While I seed a proper bracket and figure out what to do with Jonathan Sims and his 40 submissions, enjoy the single-submission preliminaries!

There were 121 characters with a single submission, most won't make into a bracket, but there were a few I couldn't pass up.

Characters are chosen for the single-submission preliminaries based on potential for fun or silly match-ups, particularly compelling arguments from submitters, and (in the interest of full transparency), a little nepotism on my part.

Maya vs Maya: Maya Borderlands vs Maya Antiques Shop

Reanimation Rumble: Herbert West vs Jesus Christ

Marvel Melee: Yelena Belova vs Nadia van Dyne

Reality Rumpus: Jaiden Animations vs You

Tumblr Tussle: pumakitty vs defianceoftheendless vs teeth-collector64

[bluerosefox]

CAT Ghost INSTINCTS

Damian comes back to the manor one day with... a new school acquaintance (coughfriendcough) due to the fact they need to work on a school project together and Danny Fenton was the only one in that class that Damian would tolerate to have as a partner.

Everything about the kid seemed normal, heck very normal if a bit shy... or at least that was until the kid suddenly zero focused on a corner of the room and stared at it non blinking. Then after what felt like hours blinked once and returned to normal, chatting away like nothing happened.

....It also doesn't help that Alfred the cat... did the same thing.. at the same time as Danny.

Yeah something is... off about Damian's new friend.

[hairmetal666]

It's Wayne that goes with him when he buys the truck. He offers to go with him. Uses one of his few days off to do it.

On the way there, it strikes Steve that his own father would never do this with him. The man hadn't even bought the Beemer himself, just sent an assistant to take care of it. And here Wayne is, driving them to a used car dealership, humming along to some old country-western song on the radio.

It takes three dealerships for them to find it, but Wayne is patient, stoic, takes careful note of the cars that catch Steve's interest. He asks the salesman if he can pop the hood, peers at the engine, kicks the tires. He asks questions Steve would never think of, about adjustments to the odometer, history of repairs, if it was in any accidents.

Steve never considered wanting a truck, doesn't think it's his style. But he's walking the lot at the third dealership, and he sees it. It's a Chevy, blue and white, a few years old. It's in good condition, but was obviously used for work.

He walks towards it.

"You like this one?" Wayne asks. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Yeah, it's--yeah," Steve nods.

Wayne does his checks, asks his questions, gives a nod of approval.

It's the first car he takes on a test drive.

He barely has it on the road before he knows it's the one. It surprises him. He always thought he was his true self in the BMW, but now--the engine has a throaty grumble to it, can feel it rumbling through his foot on the pedal, and it's--it's--perfect.

"This it?" Wayne asks as they pull back into the lot.

"Yeah, yes. It's. Yeah."

"Well, let's get to hagglin."

Wayne is, of course, an expert haggler. By the end of it, he's got a couple thousand dollars knocked off the asking price, Steve more than within budget.

They drive back to Wayne's little house on the outskirts of Hawkins, the one the government gave him, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon.

Eddie stands on the small porch, wide smile on his face.

"Wow, Wayne," he says. He wraps an arm around his uncle's shoulders. "You really did a number on him."

"It's a solid vehicle, Ed."

"Never took you for a truck man, Harrington," Eddie teases.

"Can't you see how gorgeous she is?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. "Wow, it's true love then."

"Looks like it. Wanna come for a ride?"

There's only a second where Eddie hesitates, but then he's running inside to grab shoes, tripping on his way to the truck.

---

It happened like this:

Eddie Munson died in the Upside Down in 1986.

He's reanimated by Vecna for the final battle, a puppet to do his master's bidding.

When they win, when Vecna is dead in a pile of dessicated vines, they can't find Eddie. Scour the Upside Down for him and come up empty. They have to assume he's dead, like everything else there, kept alive only by Vecna's power. None of them want to leave without him, but the world is destabilized, they can't stay, El has to close the gates.

That night, Steve pulls the battle vest from under his bed, sobs into the blood-soaked denim, the grief from the loss just as fresh as March of '86.

He and the kids, they go visit Wayne. It becomes a regular thing.

Two weeks after the end of Vecna, Wayne calls him. He's panicked, near hysterical, nothing like the man Steve's come to know.

He goes, fast as he can, to Wayne's house. All the lights are off, the front door ajar, and he runs, clattering into the living room.

Wayne is in the recliner, face pale and strained, and on the couch--on the couch--

Eddie Munson.

His hair's lank, his skin sallow, the light in his eyes dim, but it's him. Unquestionably.

Steve does the only thing he can think of, calls Hopper. He shows up a little while later with El and Will.

"I called Owens," Hopper says.

"Why would you do that?" Steve is angry.

"Look, kid, I get it. But none of us are equipped to deal with this."

He's right, so they wait.

It doesn't take the doctor, El, and Will long to figure that Eddie is Eddie, even though his heart beats a little slow and his skin's always cold and his blood is slightly the wrong color. He's still at least 75% human, and that's enough.

Only those six people know. It's dangerous to tell anyone else when the world still thinks Eddie Munson is a serial murderer. Owens asks for time to clear his name, and they have no choice but to agree.

After two days, Steve thinks he should give Eddie and Wayne space, but as he rises to go, Eddie's hand grips his wrist. "Stay?" He asks. Steve doesn't leave.

It's hard, keeping the secret from the rest of the kids, Robin. He wants to tell her, more than anything. About how they share a bed most nights, how he's memorizing the shape of Eddie's body in a way he shouldn't, how the gentle desire turns to profound longing--but Eddie's safety is the most important thing, so Steve keeps it to himself.

---

They go out in Steve's truck almost every night, always on backroads. It's the only way Eddie can leave the house.

It's Steve's favorite thing, the only time Eddie seems truly happy. They roll the windows down, turn the music up, and whip around deserted farm roads. Sometimes, Eddie will stick his head out the window, shout out into the night.

Steve is in love with him.

He has no idea if Eddie feels the same, figures it doesn't matter. He'll harbor this flame for the rest of his life without complaint because Eddie is alive.

He thinks he's done a good job at hiding his feelings, thinks he's able to avert his gaze, hide his blush, when Eddie comes out of his room in only his boxers, thinks Eddie hasn't noticed how Steve's eyes linger when they share joints lying in the bed of the truck.

Except tonight--tonight--they're driving back home, and Eddie, he's been quiet, distant, fidgety, and now he reaches out to turn down the radio, which has Steve's stomach in a knot.

"You--Steve, you've been so great. To me and Wayne, and--you're family, you know? To us, you're--but--"

And Steve thinks this is it, that Eddie noticed, that he's being let down easy, and he wants to throw up, cry, but Eddie's still talking.

"You have a life to live, right? You're--you're 23 and you're not stuck here like me, and I know Robin is ready to go and the kids are--they're going to college soon, and you shouldn't stay here for me, I'm--"

"What?" Steve says.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I don't want to leave," Steve says.

"But--"

"Where you are is where I want to be."

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says. Cover his face with his hands.

Steve pulls the truck to the shoulder. His hands are shaking.

"You love me?"

"I'm sorry." His apology is muffled. "I didn't mean--I know this fucks up--"

"Eddie." He says, soft. "Look at me?"

One deep brown eye peers up at him. "Eddie, I--I'm hopelessly in love with you."

Both eyes now, mouth a bright curve. "You mean it, Harrington?"

"Fuck, can't get enough of you, Munson."

"You know, if I thought for a second anything like was possible, I would've--fuck, I would've made a move ages ago. I would've--"

"Shut-up," he whispers against Eddie's mouth. "Kiss me."

---

And later, Robin will ask if he has someone, and he'll say yes, and she'll ask, soft, "is it him?" and he'll nod, and they'll both cry.

Later, a news report, Eddie Munson's body was recovered from the bottom of Sattler Quarry, bearing the same wounds as Vecna's other victims.

Later, Chief Powell will hold a press conference, say they're looking for a man named Henry Creel, wanted on suspicion of killing his mother and sister and the aggravated assault of his father with an MO that matches the 1986 killing spree.

Later, Steve will shave Eddie's head, Eddie crying softly as the hair tumbles to the bathroom floor. Steve will kiss the tears away, one by one, say, "I know it's hard to let go. But we'll move away, to a place where people say 'you look like that guy, that Eddie Munson,' and you'll say, 'I get that a lot,' and your hair will grow back, if you want it to."

Later, they'll invite everyone to Wayne's , everyone except Dustin, busy in Boston with an internship, and Eddie will be there to welcome them.

Later, he and Eddie will take the truck, drive up to Boston. And Eddie, he'll spy Dustin first, walks up to him and says, "Pretty metal tattoos, little dude," and they'll all cry until Dustin stops to yell at them for keeping the secret.

Later, Steve and Eddie will leave MIT--Dustin screeching that they have to call him every night promptly at 8pm still ringing in their ears-- in search of their future.

[gutsby]

Diehard

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Erectile dysfunction. Daddy kink. Praise kink if you squint. Overstimulation. Cumplay. She/her pussy pronouns. Pushing physical limits with a pre-negotiated safe word in place for it.

Note: No more limp dick erasure. We die like [old] men.

Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse | Word count: 986

Joel just wanted to prove he could fuck like he used to.

He didn’t think he’d almost kill you in the process.

“JOEL!” you screeched, heels digging deep in the mattress as your climax came in seismic waves.

The stimulation was insane. Normally the much-older man would have been down for the count after two—and usually one—big O, but now his chest was heaving, hips relentlessly beating a punishing pace against your own.

Your walls were slick with not only your cum but his, milky ropes of his arousal making for an obscene set of sounds every time his dick slid in and out of your cunt. You could feel his balls tighten and twitch with every forthcoming spurt of him, practically reeling with the pulse of each new sticky gift inside you. His groans rumbled low, but the power and pleasure and outright primal fervor they conveyed were unmistakeable. You had to look down, feebly, to believe it yourself—Joel never fucked his way through your orgasm and his.

Then you felt a palm slide up the back of your head, and Joel held it up to make sure you watched him fuck you.

“J-Joel,” you whimpered, watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a half-dozen times as you did.

“Just a little more, honey,” he murmured against your forehead. The smack of each thrust was dizzying, “Want my pretty girl nice and full’a me before she leaves, okay?”

Joel never could let you head back to college without a few of his loads and a head full of filthy memories—something to hold you over until your next visit home. You would’ve liked to mumble back, ‘Okay,’ but then your pussy clenched around him, and his thrusts grew faster.

“My sweet girl,” he grinned, “She likes that, huh?”

You could scarcely manage a nod. The weight of your head was held fully by him, and if that wasn’t indicative enough of your fucked-out state, your face surely said the rest. When Joel leaned back to adjust the angle of his thrusts, he caught sight of your hooded, glossy stare and almost came all over again. He slowed his pace for once.

Then he dipped a finger between your body and his, just long enough to douse the tip of his digit with cum. He bottomed out inside you, watched you part your lips in a gentle gasp, and pressed his touch to that open space.

It was almost like you didn’t have the strength to suck. You just let him smear the sticky stuff along your lower lip, gaze plastered to his. Then Joel’s cock sank deeper.

“O-ow!” you whined, partly reanimated by the stretch.

“You can take it,” Joel grunted.

The double entendre wasn’t lost on you. You could, and would, take his finger and his cock inside. You suckled dumbly on the cum-drenched fingertip in assent.

But when Joel’s finger popped out of your mouth and his thrusts picked back up, you weren’t entirely convinced you would be able to hold up the second half of that deal.

It wasn’t fair. He took one magic pill, and poof, his dick stayed hard for half the fucking day. You had nothing but your youth and two shaking legs to ensure your survival. When Joel worked his cock back and forth a couple more times and it seemed your body was about ready to scream, you took hold of his biceps and squeezed tight.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

The tip of his cock nicked a soft ridge inside you, and you jolted back. Joel’s palm was still pressed to your head, holding you to him, and his hips had you pinned as well.

Instead of answering, you whimpered.

You didn’t want him to stop, but you also weren’t sure if you could handle any more. Your eyes met his, pleading.

“Can’t what?” Joel pressed, a little more sternly.

Another whimper. Inside, Joel’s cock was rubbing that pleasure point raw, and you felt another climax coming.

“Use your words.”

“Too— too—”

Each new thrust was sending stars before your eyes. Joel was one sick man if he tried to make you talk while he fucked you past the point of all intelligible speech.

“Too what? Tell me, baby.”

You’d get that fucker back someday. Joel just grinned.

“Too much,” you hissed when his hips delivered another mind-numbing push. Then, feeling pleasure threaten to peak at almost a painful degree, “Toomuchtoomucht—”

Joel continued thrusting, knowing damn well you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop. As if to underscore this point, he tipped your head back and made you hold his gaze, features creased with a frown.

“That sure don’t sound like the safe word to me.”

It wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t. He didn’t need to tell you twice, or even breathe a second word besides. With one more brush of Joel’s thick, throbbing, implausibly hard cock, he sent you over the edge and into your fourth orgasm of the morning, hitting that spot again and again.

And again.

And again.

Just like before, Joel fucked you through each wave, catching your lips this time to stifle your cries. You might’ve gone blind for a second or two, but that was alright; the pleasure, proximity, and then the sweet, erratic pulse of his cock sending rope after rope of his cum deep inside made the overstimulation worthwhile.

Your body went limp against the bed, held tight in Joel’s grasp, when you felt that sickly sweet dichotomy of soft, tender touches and a cock lodged between your walls that was as hard as it had ever been. Still trying to console you with kisses, still trying to warm you up for another round, perhaps, Joel almost laughed out loud in your mouth when you groaned into his and whispered:

“Please don’t ever take that fucking pill again.”

[sukunas-wife]

Sealed 2

1 3

“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.

Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.

“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.

“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.

Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”

“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”

“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”

It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.

Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”

He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”

He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”

“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.

“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”

[lovinglonerhybrid]

What if the lostlight was in transformers prime.

Idk if I’m ever going to get it done but I had an idea that if the lostlight was in tfp it would be really interesting.

Cybertron has been abandoned and there most likely weren’t enough ships for every cybertronion. The crew of the lost light is made up of bots mostly forgotten or left behind by the rest of their race.

Minimus and Dominus ambus where left behind because they where found out to be turbofoxes by the other nobles. The two open the ambus manor to others who were outcast.

Chromedome who was two depressed to get out of bed gets dragged in by brainstorm a double agent who sucked at his job and was left due to the hazard his experiments caused.

Rung finds the manor searching for energon for his trapped patients Whirl and Fortress Maximus. The three were left when rung barricaded them all in a room after hearing talk of the other two getting executed due to their mental health. Fort max and whirl get saved and they all three stay .

Ambulon and first aid join after being left in a testing facility. They takeover an old room and turn it into a makeshift medbay.

Cyclonus and tailgate are found in an old temple for unicron. Cyclonus found tailgate after shockwave left his body in his lab. The elder mech took him and placed an old temple spark into his frame reanimated the dead mech.

Ravage slinks in one day with story’s of how bad megatron has gotten. With them are rumble,frenzy,and skids who hitched a ride when the cassettes left the decepticons.

Swerve is found by the others in the back room of his bar witch he refused to leave. With him they also find a vehicon who named himself ten .

Anode and lug come with proto sparks that had been abandoned to die by the senate. There are three sparks one bonds to first aid and ambulon as caregivers. The other two are put into what is refereed to as the nesting room.

Whirl adopts a swarm of mutated scraplets and names her whirl jr.

The last bot to join the crew well they are stranded on cybertron is deadlock who was tricked by a jealous starscream into being left behind by the nemesis.

Deadlock gets chosen by one of the proto sparks to be its caregiver deadlock names this little sparkling hot rod.

Eventually hot rod runs away and befriends a titan mech who is a spaceship Lost Light.

[ethics-snom]

Greetings Ethics Snom. I would like to ask you on your view on a certain matter. It is well known that necromancers reanimate corpses, however, some people see it as unethical. In my honest opinion it counts as recycling and creating job opportunities, which would otherwise be lacking. What are your thoughts about the ethicalness of necromancy?

*A pile of papers rumbles as Ethi emerges from it*

cc -)) Ugh…

cc o)) Hm- N-Necromancy?

cc ^)) As long as the zombie’s used for job filling, yeah!

[littlelalu]

Rushed Beginnings | Zed Necrodopolis (FLUFF)

NOTE: Hello 😊 I finally had the time to finish this up. I had it drafted since Friday of last week. I wanted to dedicate this one to @darling5. She gave me the idea and she has been my #1 supporter since I started up this account. Thank you for that <3 . The number of times I had to binge-watch all 3 zombie movies + the reanimated series for this was crazy. Even at work, I had it on as background noise. I hope you all have a great night!

Y/N = Your Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to my roommate’s alarm going off. I checked my phone, and it was 8:15 am. I have a class at 8:45 am and it’s on the other side of the campus.

“Holy Shit,” I said loudly as I got up, scaring my roommate.

She looked panicked as she turned off her alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna be late,” I said.

I walked over to my dresser and picked some jeans and a random T-shirt. I quickly changed and put my shoes on. I went to the bathroom to quickly brush my hair and my teeth.

“Bye, Julia!” I said as I practically ran out of our dorm.

This is my first time being late so far. School started about 2 weeks ago, but I still have trouble navigating through the campus. Why did I think scheduling my class this early in the morning?

I turned a corner and ran into someone. 

I stumbled back, “I-I’m sorry...” I said embarrassed. I looked up and saw Zed. I haven’t met him, but I did hear he was a pretty good football player at Seabrook High.

He smiled at me. “It’s fine. It looks like you are in a hurry”

“Yeah. I am running late for class. I’m sorry”

He laughed slightly. “You’re fine, but hey…. Since you ran into me, how about you give me your number?”

“I guess it’s only fair,” I said.

He quickly pulled his phone out, unlocked it, and handed it over to me. I entered and saved my number before handing him the phone back. 

“I gotta get going,” I said as I fixed the strap of my backpack. 

“Wait I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N” 

“I’m Zed. See you around, Y/N” he said as he went the opposite way of me. 

I continued my way to class. I can’t believe that happened. The Zed Necrodopolis talked to me. The guy everyone talks about daily, mainly about his amazing football skills. 

Once I got to class, I set up my laptop on my desk. I pulled out my phone and noticed I had a missed text from an unknown number. 

Zed: Hey Y/N, it’s Zed. Did you make it to class safely? ;) 

Well, that was fast. 

Y/N: Hahaha. Very Funny. 🙄                  But yes. Yes, I did :) 

Zed: Good to know. What class did you have anyway?

Y/N: Government with Professor Mendez

Zed: Boringggg… Anyway, I am going to assume you didn’t have any breakfast this morning. Right?

Y/N: Nope. I was already rushing. My tummy is rumbling now.

Zed: Wanna grab breakfast after your class?... Up to you of course. I would love to get to know you better.

I blinked at my phone for a while. Am I seeing this correctly? Is Zed asking me out? I don’t have a class till 12:30, so I guess I have time.

Y/N: I don’t look my best right now though. Didn’t even dress well and I didn’t do my makeup.

Zed: I think you look great! Loved your Blink-182 shirt.

Zed: You’re not wearing any makeup? Wow… You look beautiful without it then.

Y/N: Thanks Zed! I think you look very handsome as well 😊

Zed: Thank you! …. So, is that a yes?

Y/N: Yes 😊 See you soon!

Zed: Great, see you soon!

I put my phone away and impatiently waited for the class to be over.

After class, I packed everything back into my backpack and made my way over to the Graveyard Griddle. As I approached the place, I saw Zed standing outside, leaning against the wall. He was scrolling on his phone. The sun hit his green hair just right, making it look brighter.

He looked up as I got closer to him. His face lit up when he saw me.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came!” Zed said excitedly.

I giggled. “Of course. Thank you for inviting me”

“Anytime. Let’s go eat,” he said as he guided me to the entrance and held the door open for me.

We walked in and he picked a booth for us to sit at. I sat on one side of the booth, and he sat on the other.

“Have you been here yet? Or is this your first time?” Zed asked as he passed me a menu.

“No. This is my first time”

He looked surprised. “Really? Well, it’s not too much different than “human” food. You still can get your regular pancakes, waffles, eggs, and all that.”

“Good to know. What are you getting?”

“I am getting the Eclipse Eggscape. It’s an omelet with veggies in it.”

“Sounds yummy!” I said as I scanned the menu. “I will probably get Boo-berry pancakes and a coffee.”

“Good choice!” He spoke.

A lady walked to our table. “Good morning! My name is Zelda, I will be your server today. Are you guys ready to order?”

Milo looked at me to see if I was. I nodded.

“Yes, we are,” Zed responded. “I would like the Eclipse Eggscape and a glass of orange juice, please.”

Zelda was writing down his order. “And you sweetie?” she said looking at me.

“I would like some boo-berry pancakes and an iced vanilla coffee please,” I said.

“Got it. I will be right back with your drinks.” Zelda said and left.

Zed looked at me again. “So, Y/N I don’t think I have seen you around Seabrook before. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Westview. It’s a couple of towns from Seabrook. Don’t think because I am not from Seabrook doesn’t mean I do not know what happens here.”

“What like zombies? Werewolves? Aliens? Other monsters?”

“No not that. I meant about you.”

“You knew who I was?”

“Duh. You were the country’s first zombie to be accepted into a college. Plus, I hear girls in my class talking about how good you were at football.”

“Yes, it’s been fun honestly. I am glad I was able to help our community accept our monsters.”

“Here are your drinks,” Zelda said as she placed our drinks in front of us. “Food will be out shortly.”

“Thanks!” Zed and I said in unison.

Zed grabbed his orange juice and took a sip. I noticed he had a bracelet on with a screen that said offline.

“What is that?” I asked him pointing at the bracelet.

“It’s a Z-Band. Us zombies wear it to keep us from transforming into full zombies.”

“I see. I learned something new today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty interesting my friend Eliza created them.” 

Zelda came out with our food. We thanked her and began eating. 

“So, Y/N, tell me about yourself,” Zed asked.

I ended up telling Zed my life story. He seemed to be very interested in everything I said. He would ask me so many questions about my childhood. He then told me everything about his. He explained to me how hard it was the first 14-15 years of his life. He mentioned how hard Zombies had it. Thanks to Zed, now they are more accepted along with other monsters.

Zelda came by to pick up our plates when we were done eating. She left the check too.

I looked at my phone to check on the time.

“Running late again?” Zed asked jokingly. He flashed me a smirk.

I playfully rolled my eyes at him. “Not this time. Although, if I do want to make it in time, I have to leave soon.”

“What class do you have next?” 

“I have English next.”

“Building B?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“My next class is there. Mind if I walk you to class?” he asked me shyly. 

I smiled at him. “Not at all.” I grabbed my backpack and pulled out my wallet to grab some cash to pay.

“What are you doing?” 

“Paying. I mean I bumped into you, it’s the least I can do.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I got it.” He pulled out some cash and left it on top of the check.

“Thanks, Zed,” I said.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he said. 

We got up from the booth and began walking. We made some more small talk about school now.

I was enjoying this whole morning with him. I felt comfortable talking to him. It seemed like we’d been friends forever, but we just met. It didn’t help when he was also so damn handsome.

We got to my class 10 minutes before it started. We stood outside talking a bit more.

“I had a fun time with you this morning, Y/N,” Zed said as he leaned against the wall.

“Me too, Zed. It was not how I pictured my morning, but it was fun.”

“Yeah. I was not expecting to be knocked over so early in the morning.”

“Hahaha. You’re never going to let that go” I said. We laughed. “I should get going. I want to get a good spot in class. You should too before you’re late.”

“I won’t be. My class is 2 floors up.”

“Alright. Well, I gotta go. Thank you again for breakfast, Zed.”

“No problem, Y/N. I’ll text you later.” Zed said.

I nodded and said Bye to him.

. I wanted to hug him but was not sure what our boundaries were yet. I turned around and walked a few feet to my classroom door, but I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned back around, and it was Zed.

“Listen Y/N, I don’t mean to be too forward, but would you be willing to go out again sometime? I just really enjoyed being with you and you are probably the most amazing girl I have met.”

I blushed. “Yes. I would love that. I have not felt this happy with someone in a long time.”

“Great. I will see you soon then.” Zed said. He kissed my cheek. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye Zed,” I said turned around and walked inside the classroom. 

This was a crazy morning for sure. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[waltwhitmansbeard]

chapter three

She throws herself into her work. It’s all she can think to do. It’s a hard pivot from the checked-out mess she’s been these past months, but if waking before the sun and working until she passes out long after it sets is what it takes to not think about what is barreling down the pike at her, then that’s what she’ll do. 

And there is work to be done: Pyrah is still more or less in shambles after Thordak’s devastation, and with their neighbors in Vasselheim suffering such public demolition of their own, no one is paying much attention to the tiny druid village in the middle of nowhere. Closer to home, the people of Zephrah are starting to chafe under the pressure of the countless refugees that found their way to the Summit Peaks after that reanimated titan corpse ransacked half of Vasselheim; the druids of the Abundant Terrace sent hundreds of fleeing citizens through tree trunks during the siege, and a good number of them ended up here, far from their homes that have since been destroyed. 

Then there’s the matter of the Council. Word spreads quickly that the Voice of the Tempest is no longer catatonic in her bedroom, and it doesn’t take long before communications start coming from Emon requesting her presence. Keyleth knows what they want. She doesn’t want to give to them. So she adds it to the pile of Things She Will Not Acknowledge and pushes on. 

Everywhere she goes, ravens follow her. It’d be funny, if humor were a thing she was capable of these days. They circle above as she walks through town and perch outside the nearest window of whatever room she’s in. They’re silent, most of the time, until she’s been up too late or gone too long without eating, at which point she gets a rumbling caw of reproach. 

Fuck him. Just absolutely fuck him—ravens? Babysitting her wherever she goes? What the shit is this? Everyone wants her to move on, to heal, to get over it, but she’s carrying a dead man’s baby and being haunted by birds who don’t approve of the way she’s taking care of herself and the fucking Council won’t get off her back—is this healing? 

If her neighbors find the sudden influx of black birds in Zephrah unsettling, they don’t say anything about it. Rather, she notices a small uptick in visitors to the little shrine to the Raven Queen constructed less than a year ago, the one Keyleth has yet to go back to. She can’t imagine what they’re doing there—Zephrah isn’t exactly a religious town—but even though absolutely everything grates on her nerves these days, she can’t deny the begrudging appreciation that at least the work he put into making that thing isn’t going to waste. 

So she and her ravens go to work, supervising the construction of makeshift housing as the refugees wait for their homes to be repaired in Vasselheim and organizing the collaboration between Zephrah, Vesrah, and Terrah to deliver aid to Pyrah. She goes to meetings and stays perfectly on task, and when she’s done she goes home and accepts whatever work will occupy the biggest possible chunk of her brain. She wears loose clothes, even though she’s only just starting to show, and she figures out a script she can follow to avoid answering questions with any kind of substance. She affixes her face into something neutral, pleasant, even, and at night, she falls asleep in a bed that feels cavernous, suffocating and cold. 

She survives. It is what she is so very good at, after all.

continue reading on ao3 please consider donating to my ko-fi

[gt-mcyt]

monsters vs aliens

(ao3)

Chapter 4: Alien Robots

Far, far away from Earth, a spaceship floated through the vast galaxy. The ship stretched for hundreds of miles in the shape of a giant X. Built out of a mesh of metals, all from different planets, the spaceship was mostly grey, with the occasional deep green glow of an extra-terrestrial power source inside. Any meteors that hit the ship immediately exploded into hundreds of pieces, zapped by the outer powered shields.

Inside the spaceship, in the very middle, sat a sleeping pod. That pod slowly opened, like a blossoming flower, gently depositing a humanoid alien on the floor. That person stood at eight feet tall and had skin the colour of the void. Across their complexion, glowing starry freckles were smattered along their cheeks and shoulders. Their hair was the colour of a white dwarf star, and glowed as such, too. It was in a long, complicated braid that reached their lower back. Their face was complimented by four eyes, two on each side of a strong nose, and long canines poked out of their plush lips. They were dressed in green robes that wrapped around them delicately, making room for the four arms they had.

A female computerised voice spoke. “Beginning reanimation sequence.”

Four glowing green eyes opened, and a sneer formed on those beautiful lips. “Why have I been awoken from my slumber?” The person demanded. “Who dares to wake me?”

“Lord Exdee,” the computer said. Exdee picked at its robes, smoothing them out after its peaceful slumber, then waved to the computer to continue. The computer pulled up a video of a hurtling asteroid, large and glowing a toxic green. “Quantonium, the power source you have been searching for, has been located on a distant planet in the Omega Quadrant,” the computer reported, flat and dull.

“The Omega Quadrant?” Exdee scrunched up its nose in disgust. “That’s where the primitive planets are.”

The video zoomed in to the asteroid. “The trajectory of the quantonium meteor has been traced to sector seventy-two dash four,” the computer said, just as the video cut out and displayed an image of a green and blue planet, “on a planet locally known as Earth.”

“What a miserable looking planet,” Exdee sneered. “Send a probe immediately and extract the Quantonium with extreme care. I want it all – every last drop!”

“Yes, Lord Exdee.”

Exdee smiled, all pointy teeth. “With the quantonium, nothing will be able to stand in my way!”

-

Deep in an orange orchard, in the dark, a car slowly drove down a dirt road. It was beat up and a little rusty, but it held together well and only made minimal noise. The car drove until it reached a turn in the road, where it then was put in park, the lights were cut, and the noise of the surrounding grove enveloped everything. Inside the car, the radio kept going, soft in its sounds. The two teenagers in the car rocked along quietly to the music, cuddling and getting intimate.

Suddenly, the radio started going haywire, squeaking and static filling the air. The knobs and buttons in the car wheeled and were pushed down randomly. The top of the car lowered. The two teenagers stopped and stared, confused and a little scared.

“What’s going on? Did you put the top down?”

“I don’t know, I thought you were the one that put the top down!”

“No, I was touching you the entire time, I was – what is that light?”

The girl turned to look at the approaching bright light. “I think it’s the police.”

“Uh, I hate to break it to you,” the boy said, as the light only got brighter and bigger, a whooshing sound accompanying it, “but that is not the police.”

Before either teenager could do something, the light flew right over their heads, large and burning and bright. A huge whooshing sound was followed by an explosion as the light made contact with the ground, causing what felt like a miniscule earthquake, along with shaking the trees and making the car rumble. The boy was quick to jump out of his seat, running to the edge of the orchard, leaning on the fence and standing on his tiptoes to try and see what had happened. He gasped when he caught sight of … something.

“You’re never going to believe this!”

-

The area had immediately been cleared of any shrubbery or animals that could have impeded the way of the American military. Tens of helicopters and hundreds of US military vehicles were stationed around the alien-like robot that had appeared overnight, which had made a crater in the ground. It stood almost two hundred feet tall and had a giant green eye that was constantly surveying the ground and humans. In front of it was a set of human stairs, which led all the way up to be face-to-face with the giant eye. News reporters were on the scene by the next day, all scrambling to get a chance at the story.

“It was first spotted at midnight last night by a couple in romantic embrace,” a reporter said, his mustache quivering as he spoke. He clutched his microphone like a lifeline. “No one know what it is or where it came from. All branches of the military were immediately mobilised, and – what is that? Okay – and I have just received word that the president of the United States of America had arrived and will attempt to make first contact.”

The camera panned to another military vehicle, where a man in a pristine black suit stepped out. He had heavy sideburns, a mustache, and wore a New York Yankees baseball cap with pristine Timberland shoes. He brushed off his impeccable suit and took several steps forward.

“I must approach it alone. This is all about … peaceful communication.”

There was the sound of guns firing.

“Peaceful.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. President.”

Less than half an hour later, peaceful negotiations proved to not work with alien robots. The president barely made his way down the stairs and back to the helicopter before the robot crushed him, and immediately, he was surrounded by his service agents. The president tried to smooth out his no-longer-so-immaculate suit, then turned to one of the military leaders with a deep frown.

“Commander, we will not accept this response,” the president said. “Do something violent to retaliate!”

“You heard the president!” The commander yelled. He turned and spoke into the microphone on his shoulder, lips pushed against the speaker. “Light ‘em up, boys!”

Immediately, all ground military, along with the tanks, started shooting at the giant robot. But it didn’t work – the bullets and blasts all bounced harmlessly off the robot’s exterior, green sparks flying. One soldier called in air support, but another – well, they called a full retreat, seeing the hopelessness that was defeating this robot. The President was ushered into a helicopter to escape, but he stopped his agents at the last minute, to pull out his own Glock. “Wait! So, that’s how they want to play it? Eat lead then, alien robot!”

He shot ten consecutive rounds at the robot, all which bounced off, like every other bullet.

“Evidently, they eat lead,” the president said, shrugging.

“Get him on the chopper!” Someone yelled, and the president was dog-piled by his service agents, all grabbing him and leading him back to the helicopter, to safety, and hopefully, away from the alien robot.

-

In a top-secret base, somewhere in the mountains on the east coast, a bunch of military and government officials sat around a large table. Ranging from young women to older men, the table had a variety of people from all different walks of life. And as such, they all had very different opinions on how to deal with the new alien invasion. The president sat at the head of the table, head in his hands.

“Sir, we need to declare a –”

“We need to overthrow that robot and install our own government!”

“Let’s sacrifice the elderly to it!”

“I say we invade it!”

“At this rate, the Earth only has two weeks left!”

“If that thing walks into a populated area, there will be a major catastrophe!”

“We need our top scientific minds on this – get India on the phone!”

“Can we transport the United States to a safer planet?”

“I say we give this alien a Green Card and make him proud to be an American.”

“Sir, it’s at dire times like this when I stop and ask myself, ‘What would Oprah do?’”

The president groaned. Hearing all his top advisors screaming in his ears was not helping his hangover from the day before. “What’s even the point? It’s a disaster.”

He got up from his seat and walked over to the wall where a bunch of shining buttons sat. He reached for the large red one, which he knew would get him a mouth-watering, much-needed coffee. He never did understand how the top-secret military base served better coffee than Starbucks, but he wasn’t going to question it. Before he could press it, though, there was a commotion behind him. All his top advisors were screaming at him, yelling and crying, “Stop! No! Don’t do it!”

The president had no idea what they had against coffee.

Finally, one advisor managed to spit out, “That button launches all our nuclear missiles!”

“Well, then, which button gets me a latte?” The president demanded.

“Uh … that would be the other one, sir,” one advisor said, a nervous smile on his face.

The president looked over to his right, where another large red button sat on the wall. When he did a double take, he saw there were glowing blue signs over each button, naming each. The one he had his hand on was named “Nuclear Missiles,” while the other one was labelled, “Coffee.” The president sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He moved and pushed the coffee button, straightening his tie in the meanwhile. “What idiot designed this thing?”

Thet same advisor from before spoke meekly, “you did, sir.”

The president stared at him for a couple of awkward moments, then conceded. “Fair enough. Ponk, fire somebody for that stupid decision!”

“Yes, sir, Mr. President!”

The president quickly grabbed his coffee from the intern that brought it over, shooing away the intern and stalking up to the head of the table. He slammed one of his hands down on the wood. “Listen up! I’m not going to go down in history as the president who was in office when the world came to an end, so, somebody think of something and think of it fast!” He slurped at his coffee obnoxiously and hummed in pleasant surprise. “Hmm, that is one good cup of joe.”

On the platform above everyone, there was the sound of a metal door sliding open, and then a chipper voice said: “Mr. President? Not only do I have an idea, but I have a plan!”

Darryl Noveschosch, also known as Bad, one of the most infamous American military generals, stood on the platform, grasping the railing with a large smile on his face. Then, he jumped over the edge, causing everyone to either gasp or scream – only for a parachute to deploy seconds after, helping Bad float to the floor and closer to the president. “Now,” Bad started, “conventional weapons have no effect on this robot, and we all know, nukes ain’t an option.”

The president shrugged. “Sure, they are. I just …”

Before he could even take a step toward the giant red button to deploy the nuclear weapons, there was a cacophony of screams: “No! Don’t do it! Stop! Wait!”

The president stopped, wincing. “Okay, okay, no nukes. I got it.”

Bad took the president by the shoulders, leading him away from the nuclear weapons button. He spoke in a soft, smooth voice. “I’m not going to joke with you, Mr. President – these are dark times. The odds are against us. We need a Hail Mary pass, we need raw power, we need … monsters.”

The president pulled away from Bad. “Monsters! Of course! It’s so simple! I … I’m not following.”

“It’s a good thing I have a PowerPoint!” Bad grinned. He turned to the giant screen over a couple interns clicking away at their computers. He pulled out a clicker from his pocket and hit one of the buttons. The screen lit up, showing the title ‘MONSTER FILE FOOTAGE’ over a strange symbol. It was a question mark within a circle, with three other circles and symbols connected to the inner circle. “Over the last fifty years, I have captured monsters on the rampage and locked them up in a secret military prison facility. So secret, in fact, that the mere mention of its name is a federal offence.”

“Is he referring to Area Fifty – oomph!” One of the advisors choked as a tranquilliser dart was shot into his neck. He slumped over the table, out cold. The other advisors near him tried to subtly scoot away from his body.

Bad, who didn’t even acknowledge the body, turned back to his PowerPoint. He clicked one of his buttons, changing the screen to a video of a giant cat-caterpillar. It looked like a kitten, but it had large antenna on its head, and its fur was reminiscent of a caterpillar’s fluff, rather than cat fur. And the cat-caterpillar was batting at a skyscraper like it was a toy. “Mr. President, say hello to Patches!”

There was the sound of screaming, then glass shattering, as one of the interns freaked out over the video.

“Miss, please,” Bad said scornfully, “hold yourself together.” He straightened out his tie. “Now, nuclear radiation turned her from a small kitten into a three-hundred-foot-tall monster that attacked Ohio.”

The advisors all turned to each other, whispering things like, “what the fuck?”

“Language!” Bad called, snapping the advisors to attention. “Anyhow, here we have Inferno.” He clicked another button, changing the video to another. This time it showed what looked like a demon wrestling an alligator. He lit his fists on fire and roasted the alligator. There was more screaming, from the same intern. Bad sighed through his nose and continued. “A demon from another universe, Inferno came to us from the Florida Everglades after being caught by park rangers for disturbing the local wildlife.”

“We also have 404,” Bad continued, switching to another video of a regular looking man. “This handsome fellow is George Davidson, the most brilliant man in the world. He invented a chemically altered serum that would give humans the cockroach’s ability to survive. Unfortunately, there were … side effects.” The video cut out to a human with bug antenna, eyes, and cockroach wings. The same intern from before screamed again, disgusted. Bad rolled his eyes and skipped ahead to the next monster, showing a picture of a big, purple, gelatinous blob consuming a police cruiser.

“Now, we call this thing Karl –”

There was more screaming, and Bad finally snapped.

“Will someone get her out of here?!” Security stormed the room and dragged the intern out by her arms, and Bad sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair from his bun behind his ear. “Thank you. Anyway, a genetically altered tomato was combined with a chemically altered ranch-flavored dessert topping at a snack food plant. The resulting goop gained consciousness and became an indestructible gelatinous mass. It was detained quite easily, as Karl was very cooperative with us.” Bad used his clicker again to switch to a picture of a giant man with stark white hair wearing a pretty pastel green suit. The man stood over the collapsed remains of a church, arms in the air, swatting at helicopters and stomping through the debris. “And, our latest addition, Nightmare –”

There was a high-pitched scream, and Bad swiveled around, ready to order the intern out of the room again, only to come face to face with the president, curled up in his chair, screaming. The president stopped, coughed awkwardly, and then cleared his throat. “General, continue.”

Bad frowned. “His entire body radiates with pure extra-terrestrial energy, giving him enormous strength and size. He can punch through hundreds of feet of concrete like it’s wet paper.” Bad clicked again, and all the screens around the room lit up with multiple pictures and silent videos of the monsters. “Sir, these monsters are our best and only chance to defeat this robot. They have capabilities that no normal human or military task force has.”

One of the advisors smirked. “Don’t we already have an alien problem, General Bad? I don’t think we need a monster problem, too.”

Bad very carefully pasted a wide smile on his face, then leaned over and yelled right into the advisor’s ear, “You got a better idea?!”

Everyone winced, and the advisor cowered. Bad turned to the president, who laughed nervously and scooted away in his rolling chair. “Okay, okay – stay where you are.” He cleared his throat. “General, I propose we go forward with your monsters versus aliens idea … thingy. If you truly think it will help.”

“I really do,” Bad said, this time smiling genuinely.

-

[infinitesofnought]

Thus the link between representation-belief and the family is not accidental; it is of the essence of representation to be a familial representation. But production is not thereby suppressed, it continues to rumble, to throb beneath the representative agency (instance représentative) that suffocates it, and that it in return can make resonate to the breaking point. Thus in order to keep an effective grip on the zones of production, representation must inflate itself with all the power of myth and tragedy, it must give a mythic and tragic presentation of the family—and a familial presentation of myth and tragedy. Yet aren't myth and tragedy, too, productions—forms of production? Certainly not; they are production only when brought into connection with real social production, real desiring-production. Otherwise they are ideological forms, which have taken the place of the units of production. ...Consequently, the ambiguity of psychoanalysis in relation to myth or tragedy has the following explanation: psychoanalysis undoes them as objective representations, and discovers in them the figures of a subjective universal libido; but it reanimates them, and promotes them as subjective representations that extend the mythic and tragic contents to infinity. Psychoanalysis does treat myth and tragedy, but it treats them as the dreams and the fantasies of private man, Homo familia—and in fact dream and fantasy are to myth and tragedy as private property is to public property. What acts in myth and tragedy at the level of objective elements is therefore reappropriated and raised to a higher level by psychoanalysis, but as an unconscious dimension of subjective representation (myth as humanity's dream)...Psychoanalysis and the Oedipus complex gather up all beliefs, all that has ever been believed by humanity, but only in order to raise it to the condition of a denial that preserves belief without believing in it (it's only a dream: the strictest piety today asks for nothing more).

– Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia

[hopepaigeturner]

Benophie Week: Day 1

A little excerpt from a fic I'm working on inspired by the show 911...

*~*~*~*~*~*

As Benedict shuffled through his wallet for change, he muttered half-exasperated comments about Anthony, and the divine right of older brothers and all its accompanying annoyances. Due to the frequency of his visits he could direct himself via auto-pilot to the crickety machine that whirred louder than the life-support machines in the hospital. Once he finally scooped together a whopping £1.30 he looked up and halted.

Damn you Anthony.

His most recent comic-book inspiration stood by the vending machine, shifting through her purse. The pretty firefighter. The one who looked beautiful even with soot smudges on her face and a heavy uniform.

His reverie broke when she cursed colourfully and he moved closer. She started to jostle the machine and he noticed a limp looking kitkat teetering on the edge. This close he could smell the scent of her floral shampoo that made her hair shine in her braids—today a pretty half-up-half-down design that Hyacinth typically adored.

Another huff from her reorientated him and he took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up. Anthony’s voice rang in his head,

Just ask the girl for her number—what’s the worst that could happen?

“You know you just need to enter the code again and it should work—”

“I know, I know,” she snapped following his instructions, “This isn’t my first rodeo with this insufferable machine.”

“Tell me about it—they should give us loyalty cards.”

She twisted around and Benedict’s breath caught; at her jade eyes that widened, the wispy curls of her almost-ebony hair and the rouge lipstick on her parted lips. Then his heart plummeted when she continued staring.

Random guy accosts a single woman in an empty hallway—ofcourse the perfect romantic start to a story—

“What level?”

“Huh?”

She swallowed thickly.

“The loyalty cards—are we at bronze, silver or gold?”

Benedict blinked a couple more times, before reanimating. 

“Ugh…would have to say silver.”

“Not gold?” she quirked her eyebrow and something in Benedict settled. 

“I think a month would make it gold.”

“A month? Does it have to be consecutive?”

“To get platinum—absolutely.”

She snorted and he tried to squash a smile.

“You truly believe that you could visit every day for a month?”

“For the right reason.”

She halted and with a sly smile said,

 “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

Damn you, Anthony.

Then again, Anthony didn't know that his most romantic rendezvous were typically the length of one night before he had to sneak out to attend a phone call from his siblings. But ofcourse Anthony didn't know that–not when he'd disappeared onto the plane and left–

Stupid thought. 

Instead, Benedict pivoted.

“Yes—is it working?”

She looked him up and down.

“Well, certainly a unique avenue but…I’m somehow enjoying it.”

A flicker—Benedict latched onto it. He shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t want to turn the charm up too much.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Go on then—” she leant forward and the floral scent almost stalled him. “I fight fires for a living, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Desire rumbled through him and he almost pushed her against the wall right there. Instead he pitched his voice low,

“Alright, get ready—Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” He quirked an eyebrow.

She burst out laughing, her hand on her mouth. The flicker turned into a steady flame.

“You cannot be serious!”

“Deadly—or can’t you handle it?” Benedict said and something flared in her eyes.

"Oh no, no—bring it on,” she challenged as they started walking back down the corridor.

“Let’s see….It’s handy that I have my library card—cause I want to check you out.”

Both of them were too preoccupied with each other to bother navigating the corridors.

“Ooh, so cheesy—I love it.”

“Or…If I could rearrange the alphabet then I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.”

“Ah, the classic.”

“Then ofcourse there’s this golden oldie,” Benedict lounged against the wall. “I’d like to take you to the movies, but they don’t let you bring your own snacks.”

She chuckled through a snort. And Benedict blurted out,

“Or I could just take you on a proper date? Let you continue laughing at me?”

They halted. The girl perused him and Benedict tried to breathe. Her eyes narrowed for a moment then she shrugged.

“Alright then—can I have your number?”

"What…oh right. Right."

"You okay there Don Juan?"

"Yeah, ofcourse. It's just that beautiful girls don't really say yes to me," Benedict blushed bright red at his omission. "Phone?"

"Sure thing," she replied with a little grin and handed over her phone. While Benedict typed in his number he desperately tried to tame his cheeks.

“Ben….Benjamin?” the girl asked, looking at the contact details.

“Benedict.”

“Blessed one…” Benedict noticed her eyes trailed downwards. “Certainly an apt description," she mumbled.

 For once he felt pleased to have left the hoodie behind.

“And you?”

“Sophie, Sophie Beckett—although you probably knew that….night of the fire and all.”

The mantra reared in his head; Your fault, your fault, your fault–

“Wait—you remember me?” he asked. 

It has been atleast a week since he'd watch her carry his siblings out of that burning building. And there has been countless others saved.

“You literally tackled a police officer to get to your siblings.”

“Ah, I see.”

Ofcourse his last name would push to the front.

“Although…professionalism aside—I also thought you were quite cute." She admitted before turning and striding off to the left to see her friend Kate. She called over her shoulder, "I’ll be the lady and let you call me!"

Another swish of her hair and she was gone, leaving Benedict empty handed but full of something he hadn't felt in a very long time…something akin to a flickering flame.

[canonaspecswag]

Single Submission Preliminaries: Reanimation Rumble!

Herbert West from Re-Animator (1985), who is asexual, as confirmed by his actor Jeffery Combs

Jesus Christ from The Bible who is celibate and unmarried according to "the traditional understanding of Christian churches and theologians" and Wikipedia

[akumath]

Here are my plans for 2024, all the ups and downs…

January 2024

I didn’t want to do this, but I am going to take January off. With the exception of Patreon and Brick Off Reviews, I won’t be updating until February. Why is that? First, I am moving. Specifically from the third floor to the second one. The problem is I do not know exactly when or how long it’ll take. But the Computer being set up will take priority first when that move happens.

Which is why I am going to continue doing Patreon since I can make two comics in a day and did most of the Patreon Exclusive sprites. Same for Brick Off Reviews as two videos are already pre-uploaded. Besides that, I plan on completing my El Tigre Reanimated Scene in January.

The Sprite Royal Rumble

I want to make one this year, but I have two plans. It would have been a third, but I did not get a lot of response on the Death Battle Discord so no Middle Ground Vs DBD special. So my ideas are as follows: Make a regular Sprite Royal Rumble. Have people sign up and do a normal 30 person one. This will probably take longer to gather the resources from those wanting to sign up. Make a theme Sprite Royal Rumble. I was thinking of doing a “Sonic Clones” SRR featuring games inspired by or ripping off Sonic. This would be faster since I can just gather the characters. There’ll be a poll about this so check it out when its on Twitter or Patreon.

The AkumaVerse

I do want to go back to making the big comics again. So if I can finish the stuff I plan to do in January quickly, I can work on getting two weeks worth ready. And after Tales from the AkumaVerse finishes its current story, the Main Comics will return. I plan on alternating between the Main Comics (switching depending on which series has an ongoing story) and Ask the AkumaVerse weekly.

GLAB

February Theme Month is currently undecided. I'm currently torn between FNAFuary and Parappuary. Could be either one of these two. Could be a third one. I'll figure it out when the time comes.

The Convention Storyline I plan on ending quickly, so it is going to be getting a fanfic conversion. After that, it’ll be the Dinner Date Storyline between Discord, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Eris.

After that, I don’t know exactly when, but I plan on addressing the destruction of the Them’s Fightin’ Herds Universe going forward. Because as you probably guess, I plan on bringing in the remaining playable characters into GLAB and that’ll be the storyline. But that’ll be after I make their sprites.

Brick Off Reviews

Basically, my plan is to upload videos weekly with the Big Review the final Wednesday of the Month. One of them is planning to do all the Spongebob Sets from Snap and Switch. I also plan on posting daily posts on the channel of various pictures. Could be pictures I took of previous videos. Could be recent purchases. I hope to reach 100 Followers by the end of 2024. Almost 1/4 the way there.

So those are my plans besides Death Battle. Depending on who I get I may take some time off to focus on researching that character depending on who they are. I hope 2024 turns out great for everyone!

[danco110]

Having picked the last of the meat from the skull, the scavengers finally relented. They took to the skies fully satisfied, ascending in wide, lazily circling arcs.

A rumbling noise came from the skull. On the ground below, the bones began to tremble. It rose from the sand, revealing itself to be connected to the rest of a massive winged skeleton. Purple light flashed in its eye sockets as it drew itself up to its full height, head level with some of the birds despite its body still being partially buried.

The scavengers’ panicked screeches rang loudly. But the dragon did not attack. Not when its head first took its place in the sky among the birds, nor when it was joined there by the rest of its body. It tore itself free from an enormous sand dune, its tattered wings somehow able to lift it up through the air. The gusts from its ascent scattered the birds, but the wings themselves did not strike a single one - though the skies were far too crowded for this to be mere coincidence.

The scavengers fell silent. The dragon remained silent. They silently observed each other for a time, the skeleton hovering amid the living flock.

After a time, the dragon flew forward, again avoiding every bird as it went. The scavengers started after it, flying in a loose formation behind the dragon. Only then did the dragon speak - a low, guttural snarling. A warning. Though the sound was ominous, the birds were undeterred, and continued their procession.

Now agitated, the dragon loosed a deafening roar, one that echoed for miles over the desert. The birds responded, their screeches sounding off in unison, much to the dragon’s surprise. The skeleton craned its neck back with an audible clatter, to stare at the following flock.

Between wingbeats, the dragon returned its attention to the horizon. It refrained from any further growls or roars, seemingly unbothered by its followers, now. The group continued onwards, towards the moon cresting the horizon.

[If Bone Dragon is sentient, do you think it thinks of its first-ever reanimation as a reanimation, or as a birth? Do you think it’s grateful to who or whatever caused it to rise again?]

[shatteredsoul1998]

Inside the kingdoms of old...

Rotten Inside Out-

Nobody knows quite where it came from, but there are always stages to it. First, the victim feels sick, so sick that they struggle to move. Second, a few days after, the victim dies. At this point, it is optimal to burn the body before stage three. In stage three, minutes after death, the body seems to reanimate itself, a now horrid stench coming from it. However, it will act as normal for several weeks at this stage, seeming to be trying to hide its state before ending up rotting on its flesh, at which point stage four begins. In stage four, the body appears agitated and aggressive. Though, it is rare to see a stage four, as they tend to hide and ambush those they see as prey. Based on studies I have conducted, it is a fungus, it infiltrates the body through the mind and rots their insides as they live before taking over. During stage three, it appears to be planning and hunting. We have already lost some important figures to this fungus, including Donkey Kong, Princess Daisy, Toadsworth, and Bowser Junior. And to be honest, I am not feeling well myself. Signing off, Doctor Mario.

(DOMAIN: MX's)

Eye can't hear you-

Where am I? I don't remember much... I fell asleep, but now I can't tell what is going on. I can't see... I open my eyes, but all I feel is bitter cold... I can't hear, I can't feel my ears there... It's so dark, and cold. I don't know where I am... Clearly, standing here won't help me anymore... So lets try walking...? Maybe... Well, I fould something! I feel it... Its hard, and I think it has writing... I need to trace it... 'I... Win... Mario...?' No, that can't be right...! What does it mean...? Is this a trick from Bowser? ...Wait, I can feel the ground rumbling... Maybe its someone coming to help me...? ...No, it can't be, I feel something on my wrists now... It hurts, please, stop. Please stop please stop please stop it hurts! Can anyone hear me...? I want it to stop, please, it hurts... I can feel you vibrating... Its rough... Is that you, Bowser...? Are you laughing at me...? Please, stop, please stop it hurts so much please stop please stop... Are those... Spikes...? Please... No more... "'...It hurts...' Are the last words from our beloved hero as this afternoon a video came out showing the villain Bowser throwing him into an Iron Maiden before slamming the door. It looks like his eyes and ears had been torn out beforehand. The princess has assembled a team to go and get revenge for our hero, hoping to recover his body. The team is of the princess, his brother, Yoshi, ad surprisingly, Wario and Waluigi, who decided that a fate like this was too much, even for a rival of theirs. More at 11...

"(DOMAIN: MX's)