#the little guy is so far unnamed and i still wonder what his colors should be normally

[get-more-bald]

drew my little guy for the first time!

click for better quality!

[localkatshelter]

Okame’s Underbelly: Intoxication |2nd|

(ShinsoxOC)

Katsumi's POV (localvillageidiot#0870) and Shinso's POV (hecker#8339)

Warning: Contains toxic relationships, heartbreak, quirk misuse, and alcohol consumption

Preview:

| Fuck, it’s actually over. The grave reality hit me in the face like a brick. I felt an unfamiliar emotion painfully swell in my chest. It terrified me. So, I did what I knew how to do best: avoid, avoid, avoid. I reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of soju. I twisted off the cap and began downing it; I didn’t even notice the bitter taste. It didn’t take me long before I was ready for the second bottle. My head was    empty. |

1st Chapter - Anticipation

(Katsumi’s POV)

Performances had been going on for a little while. I had shifted my position in my chair a couple of times to get comfortable and finally settled on sitting cross legged with my knees resting on the plush arms. Holding my, now lukewarm, tea in both hands, I inhaled as I took a sip. The minty aroma cleared the fog in my head a bit from the heavy summer air that was being moved around by the slow ceiling fans scattered across the room. I did my best to politely listen to the people on stage as they went through their pieces, but really only one in every five people were any good. I looked at my phone to check the time. There was about 20 more minutes until Okame’s usual time slot. As a particularly boring piece was being performed, I heard some shuffling to my right. Curious and in need of something a bit more stimulating, my eyes wandered towards the sound. Not wanting them to notice my staring, I kept my eyes low towards the ground. I saw a pair of large black chelsea boots stop two chairs away from me. Their owner sat down rather slowly and as my eyes moved up the distressed denim pant leg I caught a glimpse of their hands tensely gripping the arms of the chair as they lowered themselves down. I couldn’t help but stare at those hands as they fidgeted with the loose strands of the cloth chair. The chipped nail polish certainly wasn’t intentional, but the aesthetic fit oddly well with the haphazard chunky rings that adorned their long, rough looking fingers. Am I weird for thinking hands are attractive...?

 Afraid that I would make accidental eye contact but now fully invested in analyzing this random stranger, I adjusted my angle in my chair, so I could easily peek to the side and see the stranger fully. Now that I could get a full look, I could tell for sure that the person sitting nearby was a guy around my age. I watched as he shifted in his seat to take off the black jacket he wore. He set it in his lap and tugged at the seams. I continued my observation. Oh he has an eyebrow piercing too? That’s kind of cute. His whole vibe is a bit Edgelord for me but he pulls it off. My eyes trailed back to his hands, which hadn’t stopped fidgeting. I followed them as he raised them to run his fingers through his hair. The color of it is what struck me first, it was so unique. The shade of purple really suited his pallet. But what the fuck is with that style? Is that on purpose? Is bed head a new trend? Well, I guess it doesn’t look terrible on him... Satisfied with my full analysis and slowly losing interest, I turned my attention to the next performer, who was at least a bit better than the few prior, but still not great. I checked the time again and got a bit excited since it was almost time for Okame to perform. In the meantime, I decided to entertain myself by making up little stories about Mr. Edgelord to pass the time.

I checked my phone casually to see the time. Oh, it’s almost time!  I straightened up in my seat to make sure I could see the stage well. It seemed like the whole room did the same, any side conversations that had been going on suddenly lulled and faded out. The entire room’s focus shifted to the empty stage at the front. We waited in collective anticipation for Okame’s ghost performer to walk up on stage. I peaked around the room for the familiar looking girl but to my surprise, one of the staff members walked onto stage instead. People turned towards each other and began murmuring in confusion. The staff member tapped into the mic to refocus everyone’s attention. 

“Good evening, everyone. The Squeaky Wheelhouse has an announcement to make. As many of you know, typically around this time our resident performer, Okame, has their ghost performer read their work. Unfortunately, Okame has informed us that they will be going on hiatus starting tonight. We are very sorry to see them go but we wish them well and hope they will come back whenever they are ready. With that being said, lets move right into our next performance.” 

The room remained silent for a moment as the announcement sunk in. Then all at once, chairs began to scrape against the floor as people got up to leave. Wow, I had no idea that this many people came specifically for Okame. Among those that got up was Mr. Edgelord. Huh, never would have pegged him for an Okame stan. I wonder what his deal is? When did he become a fan? I’ve never noticed him before. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a gruff, low voice speaking to me. I looked up to see Edgelord standing next to me.

“Excuse me.”

I pulled my legs in to make room for him to pass by, not saying anything. He looks super disappointed. I really can't remember ever seeing him here before. How weird. I looked around to see a noticeable amount of people had left already. I feel bad for the rest of the performers. I should stay for at least a little bit longer. I don't have anything better to do anyway and no one is waiting on me back at the dorms. Despite my best intentions, I could only make it through about another 20 or 30 minutes of performances before I decided that I didn't have to punish myself anymore with tonight’s below-average open mic entries. I gathered my things together and put them into my bag. I headed outside to start my walk back home. As I went to pop my headphones in, my quirk started to pick up an immense amount of sadness coming from someone to my left. I looked over and saw Edgelord hunched over on a bus bench with his head in his hands. Before I knew what I was doing, my quirk was dragging my body in his direction. I gently sat down next to him and reached out to tap his shoulder.

(Shinso’s POV)

If I’m being honest, I barely paid attention to the other performers. I knew I was being rude,  but I couldn’t help myself from impulsively checking for my ghost performer as it was getting closer and closer to the time slot. She liked to keep me on edge so I’m sure she was waiting for the last second to show up.  I heard snaps followed by the crowd hushing as the last performer before “Okame” left the platform. I stared at the stage intently but to my bewilderment, one of the staff members walked on instead.  “.... Unfortunately, Okame has informed us that they will be going on hiatus starting tonight…”  I didn’t hear the rest of what he said after that, his words just became a drone. She didn’t even show up.  After the staff member finished up the announcement he left the stage. My mind was blank, as the empty spotlight burned into my brain. I felt my body lift itself from the chair abruptly. Before I could process what I was doing, I was already making my way out of the place. To my relief, other people followed behind me so I didn’t stand out too much. I brushed past a few people, and luckily my auto-pilot still had some manners to excuse myself. 

My thoughts were racing as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. Fuck this, I’m going home. I swiftly beelined straight to the bus stop near the Wheelhouse. The soju bottles clinked together as I dropped down on the bench. I impatiently dug in my pocket for the pack of cigarettes I was trying to stretch for the week. I’ve cut down significantly and planned to eliminate it from my life completely. Right now is not the time to think about that. It’s actually the perfect fucking time to whip one out.  I put the cigarette between my lips and lit it with a shaky hand. I took one deep drag, the familiar static sensation coating my tongue and throat. If I wasn’t fuming, it might have actually felt soothing. She has some nerves not showing up after fucking around on me. What the fuck does she have to be mad about? 

We were laying together on the couch, catching up on the most recent episode of a show we both enjoyed. We had just finished laughing at the comic relief after an emotionally dense scene, when I saw her phone screen turn on in the corner of my eye. My eyes habitually followed the light to where her phone was plugged in next to me. The unnamed preview message read Are you still with him? I’ll be in the area tonight. I froze. I took in a deep uneven breath before slowly turning  to her.

 “What is this?” I rasped, as I held the phone to face her. 

She looked over and her expression shifted unpleasantly before she attempted to grab the phone from my hand, which I reflexively dodged.  She knew better than to answer my question. I rarely ever used my quirk on her, because it always managed to exacerbate the situation so it wasn’t worth it. If she’s already avoiding my questions, then this must be bad news. 

“Unlock your phone.” I demanded firmly.

 “No, Shinso.” she sighed. “You always let your paranoia get the best of you. Just stop. Don’t ruin tonight. We can always fight about something stupid another day.” 

Her dismissive demeanor irked me to no end. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I borderline growled.

 “Leave me alone!” She spat back at me before her face went blank. 

Got her.  

“Unlock your phone.” I repeated steadily. 

She took the phone with a slack grip and entered her password.

 “Give the phone to me.” 

The more I scrolled through the thread of text messages, the more betrayed I felt. I was too devastated to be angry, but I was far from numb. The intense influx of emotions caused me to unknowingly release her mind from my control. I finally realized, when I heard soft choked sobs coming from her. When my eyes returned to her, she looked completely defeated, but I could not bring myself to sympathize with her. I tossed her phone on the couch before getting up and snatching my keys off the table.

 “Shinso, stop! Please wait!” she cried as she tugged my arm towards her. 

“For what?” I retorted sharply. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t need to get more evidence to know that we’re over.” I yanked my arm from her grip. 

She said nothing.  I pushed through the door without looking back.

After reliving the memory, I slowly came back to the present. I flicked the now cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it.  Any sane person would wonder why I still wanted to be with her. The truth is, I’m a big fat hypocrite. I’ve done my fair share of bullshit in the relationship. Granted, I never cheated, but still, it’s not my place to get on my high horse. We’ve gone through so much together, and honestly, I can’t imagine what it would be like to not be with her anymore. And now...it’s actually over. Fuck, it’s actually over. The grave reality hit me in the face like a brick. I felt an unfamiliar emotion painfully swell in my chest. It terrified me. So, I did what I knew how to do best: avoid, avoid, avoid. I reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of soju. I twisted off the cap and began downing it; I didn’t even notice the bitter taste. It didn’t take me long before I was ready for the second bottle. My head was empty.

I stopped keeping track of how much I had consumed. All I knew was that the bus was taking fucking forever. Despite it being cold out, my chest was warm due to the alcohol. I could barely sense that nameless feeling in there anymore. My head was fuzzy, a little too fuzzy now. Is this the third or fourth bottle?  Before I could contemplate the answer, the horizon began tilting before my lowered eyes. I rested the weight of my upper body on my knees and hung my heavy head low, hoping this dizziness would soon pass. 

[impala-dreamer]

A New Kind Of Magic

An SPN/Magicians Crossover Fic

~Dean and Sam have some company in the Bunker but Margo and Eliot are not there for a friendly visit. Somehow, their quest keys got screwed up and sent them to another universe. Chances of getting them home seem rather nonexistent until Eliot suggests they combine their magic...and a few other things...~

Sam Winchester x Margo Hanson x Eliot Waugh, Dean Winchester, Roger Rabbit, Unnamed Bunny

3,445 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Spells and Sex and Magic and Bunnies. All the good stuff.

AN: This is my very first crossover fic, combining some of my favorite people. I haven't ever written for Margo or Eliot before, so this was a lot of fun. This challenge piece is for, and the art and title are by @idabbleincrazy. I really hope you all enjoy! EDIT: TUMBLR TOOK DOWN THE ORIGINAL POST BC THE ART WAS TOO SEXY, THE WORDS WERE TOO SEXY, THEY WERE JEALOUS OF THIS POST. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ;)

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon 

It wasn’t as if no one had ever crossed into their universe before, or them into another as it were, but no matter how many times it happened, Dean was never going to be used to it. Just like the time their grandfather had walked through time and into their closet door, the last week had been super weird. It wasn’t right. But it kept on happening.

Margo was hot, that’s all Dean knew. She was like this tiny firecracker of sass and sex that would blow his hand apart if he tried to touch her. And try he did. For the first two days, he used his best pick up lines on her, flashed his most flirtatious smiles, but she was having none of it. Margo barely even looked at Dean except to fire back a snide comment, and her rejection just egged him on.

Eliot was...an interesting fellow. Dean wasn’t quite sure what to make of him but he certainly did his fair share of blushing around him. Twice, Eliot commented on the pert roundness of Dean’s ass and twice, Dean had nearly giggled himself into a frenzy. His cheeks would never stop burning around the strange, curly haired man, but give in, he would not.

While Dean was busy trying to keep his pants on around the strangers, Sam was busy trying to help them get home. He spent most of his time in the Library, pouring over books and his laptop, reading until his eyes were so out of focus that they welled with exhausted tears. He was getting nowhere. An entire universe of knowledge at his fingertips, and there was not a speck of information about Fillory or quests or Magic Keys opening random doors into other universes. He was at a loss.

Closing his computer for a moment, Sam leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed at his eyes. A kaleidoscope of static and color swirled on his eyelids and he sighed, feeling that familiar tug of sleep.

Boots rushing down the short steps knocked Sleep’s hand away.

“Still nothing?”

Sam opened his eyes to find his brother standing over him, arms crossing over his jacket.

“Not a thing. You?” Sam knew the answer, but he wanted to poke Dean with a tiny bit of guilt for not helping.

“Nope.” Dean pursed his lips. “Well… There’s a case up near Spokane,” he said, tilting his head. “Four coeds found with their hearts ripped out. Gonna go check it out with Cas unless…”

Sam lifted his eyebrows, waiting for the rest of Dean’s sentence. “Unless what?”

“Unless you wanna come with? Get out of the Bunker for a bit? Get some fresh air?”

“Dean, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” He’d long ago stopped wondering how far he could roll his eyes. He knew.

“Yeah and you got it all under control.” After a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, Dean leaned down a bit, resting a hand on the back of the chair next to Sam. “Listen, I gotta get outta here. That chick is super hot and ignores me every other word and the tall guy is…” Dean sucked his teeth as he searched for the right word, but couldn’t find anything good. “I just need like five minutes alone. OK?”

Sam breathed out a laugh and nodded. “OK.”

“OK!” Dean smiled and stood up, spinning on his heel towards the door. “Check ya later, Sammy. Be good. Don’t burn the house down!”

“Leaving so soon?” Margo appeared at the top of the stairs, long hair down and shining, one of Mary’s old shirts hanging off her shoulders.

Dean startled but caught himself. “Just making a milk run, milady, nothing to worry about.” He gave her his best smile, but she lifted a brow and looked towards Sam.

“Thanks for the conditioner,” she said with a smile. “This universe is killing my hair. Never thought I could miss magic so much.” She pushed passed Dean and sank into the chair next to Sam.

“OK then,” Dean mumbled to himself. “Have fun playing beauty parlor!” He waved as he hopped up the steps and disappeared around the corner.

Sam huffed and pushed his tongue between his teeth. “Sorry about my brother. He’s…”

Margo shrugged him off and adjusted herself in the chair, half lounging, one leg slung over the arm facing Sam. “He’s harmless.”

Sam laughed. “He’s really not…”

“I could take him.”

Deep red lips pulled into a smirk and Sam’s heart raced.

“I bet you could.”

Steps scuffled on the top stair as Eliot swaggered into the archway. “What are we betting?” He lifted a flask to his lips and giggled around the cap. “Strip poker, I hope.” Margo gave him a stern look and he floated into the room, taking the seat across from Sam. “Sorry.”

Sam managed to clear the lump from his throat with a gentle laugh. “Uh, no,” he answered awkwardly. “We were just talking about my brother’s-”

“Tight little ass,” Margo grinned, winking at Sam who’s cheeks turned fifthteen shades of pink.

Eliot laughed and kicked back in his seat, crossing his long legs at the ankles beneath the table. “I could bounce a quarter off that ass,” he said in playful agreement. “Or bite it.”

Sam’s expression twisted into something reminiscent of a firefighter smelling a burnt corpse for the first time, but was soon soothed by Margo’s sexy laugh.

“El, that’s too much,” she teased, swatting her hand through the air at him. “You’re embarrassing my boy here.”

Sam took a long moment to collect himself, to pull his eyes away from her perfect lips. When he was ready, he sat up and fiddled with his laptop, trying to give his hands something to do.

“So any luck getting us home?” Eliot asked, voice turning from sex to business.

“Sadly, no.” Sam sighed heavily and shook his head. “I just can’t find anything that would work. Since your magic doesn’t work here, I can figure that our magic wouldn’t work to get you there. I can’t see that a door like this has ever been opened between our worlds before.”

“But you told us about that rift thing,” Margo reminded him, sitting up and unhooking her leg from the chair. “Maybe we could open one of those?”

A bit of hair fell into Sam’s eyes as he shook his head again. “No. Everything points to your universe being on a totally different line that ours.”

Eliot laughed in confusion. “What?”

“If you think of the universes as we’re speaking of them,” Sam explained, gesticulating with big hands as he broke it all down for Eliot and Margo. “You could imagine an infinite number of Earths on a string, all lined up, all the same yet not. Now this string would keep our universe together and theoretically, you could use the string to jump from one world to the other.”

“Right…” Margo’s dark eyes blinked wildly as Sam rambled on.

“From what I’ve read,” he went on, “it looks as if your Earth is on a seperate string.”

“So no jumping back and forth?” she asked, painted lips in a deep frown.

“No jumping,” Sam echoed in agreement.

“It’s like the bunnies,” Eliot mused, staring at Sam but looking passed him at a memory.

“Bunnies?” Sam’s voice cracked as he questioned the odd comment.

“In Fillory, we have bunnies that can talk and we can send them to Earth with messages, and visa versa.” Margo tried to explain it better than that, but it was pretty simple, actually. It was what it was.

“Ah.” Sam smiled but his curiosity was far from sated. “So tell me again about the keys?”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “We are on a quest and the keys are all...magical as fuck.”

Sam laughed. “Right. And...opening doors to different places is normal for you guys?”

“It is, but we’ve never been stuck like this...powerless and trapped underground.” Margo exhaled sadly.

“You know we’re not...holding you here,” Sam offered kindly.

She turned to face him and smiled. “Honey, even if I wasn’t hiding out in tunnels under a mountain of dirt- this is Kansas. There’s nothing to do. I might as well be trapped.”

“Oh, come on, Bambi,” Eliot cooed, sneaking in, “we can always find something to do.” His eyes turned to Sam. “Or someone.”

Sam swallowed so hard it nearly echoed. He couldn’t deny the heat in his cheeks when Eliot stared at him, or the tightness of his jeans when Margo’s hand brushed his leg accidentally, but he really didn’t have time for all that. There was research to do.

“We really should get back to work,” Sam insisted, clearing his throat for the upteenth time. His shoulders were so tight he thought they’d snap, but he had to keep his head screwed on right.

“Yeah,” Margo snipped, sarcastically waving a finger at Eliot. “No time for sex. We need to focus.”

Eliot laughed so hard the table shook, and he pulled the flask back out of his vest. He tipped his head back, going for the last swallow, and suddenly had an idea. Margo could see the lightbulb illuminate behind his eyes and she leaned close.

“Oh…”

“What is it?”

Sam hummed in question.

Eliot grinned. “Sex.”

“You need to calm your tits, sir,” Margo sassed, rolling her eyes and sitting back. “I want to go home.”

“No,” he laughed, leaning over the table. “Sex Magic.”

Margo’s face lit up and she gave a half smile. “Oh…”

Confused, Sam looked back and forth between them. “Sex Magic?”

“It’s a rarely used ritual that can produce a large amount of magical energy,” Margo explained. “But our magic isn’t working here so what the fuck, El?” She shot him a glare but Eliot was undeterred.

“No, listen. What if we combine our magic with some of Sam’s magic and see what happens.”

“Why does it have to be the fucking type?”

Eliot grinned. “Because if it doesn’t work, we’re not out anything but a couple condoms.”

Margo seemed satisfied with that and looked to Sam whose jaw was nearly on the ground.

“You in, big boy?” she asked, dropping her hand to his knee.

“I, uh… what...” Sam struggled with the new plan, but suddenly remembered something he’d read a few days ago that seemed pointless until now. “Actually… I think that could work…”

Deep in Rowena’s journals was a spell for conjuring up a large amount of magical power. Sam had skimmed it but ultimately given up the idea; he hadn’t felt ready to attempt something so powerful, but with two actual magicians by his side, Sam decided it was worth a shot.

The trio stood in Sam’s bedroom, lights dimmed, candles lit around the perimeter. It was romantic and warm, but Sam’s hands were shaking.

Eliot noticed the tremor and handed Sam his flask. “Take the edge off,” he whispered gently.

“Thanks,” Sam smiled quickly and took a sip. He winced at the strong but smooth Scotch as it ran down his throat. “My brother’s gonna bite your head off if he finds out you’re in his good stash.”

“I can take him,” Eliot winked.

Sam stared at him in awe. “You two are so…”

“Sexy?” Eliot offered.

“Confident,” Sam finished.

“Well, that too.”

“Can we get this going?” Margo interrupted, ripping the shirt off her head. Her hair fell down in perfect waves behind her back and she offered the men a nice view of her breasts. “I’m getting bored.”

The spell was impossibly simple. A bit of blood from each of them was mixed with elm ash and cloves, then rubbed over each breastbone, right above their hearts. A few words of tongue-twisting Latin and a cache of energy should begin to charge over the bowl of remaining potion.

Sam finished enchanting the mixture and held the brass bowl out to Eliot. "I guess...we can get started."

Eliot smirked and dipped two long fingers into the bowl, his dark eyes locked on Sam's. "I can't wait."

Margo shivered as Eliot smeared the tincture over her heart, gently rubbing the brownish mess into her smooth skin. She looked up at him and smiled slyly. "Love it when you massage me."

"Oh, hush," he grinned, pulling his hand away. "Your turn." He nodded towards Sam and Margo slipped away.

"Gonna need you to strip."

Sam’s stomach flipped. “Uh...what?” His tongue felt dead in his mouth as he blushed every ounce of body heat through his cheeks.

Margo gave him a smug smile and moved closer, her naked breasts bouncing slightly as she took each step. “Strip.” She popped the P and Sam’s heart skipped too many beats. “Gonna need to take those clothes off if we’re gonna do this.” Her dark eyes fell down the length of Sam’s body and he shivered.

“Yeah.” His laugh was awkward and adorable.

“Awe, he’s shy,” Eliot cooed, dropping his pants by the bed, already half hard and ready to go.  

Sam chewed his lip as he pulled the old green flannel from his shoulders, held his breath as he tugged his undershirt up over his head, swallowed down a cannonball when his jeans hit the floor. He held his eyes shut, half expecting a teasing word from Eliot, but the room was oddly silent.

“Well, hot damn.”

Margo’s voice pulled Sam’s eyes open and he found both visitors staring at him with lust filled eyes. Their stares knocked away his nerves and Sam stepped forward, looking down at Margo and licking his lips.

“Go ahead,” he whispered; a wolfish grin growing upon his pink lips.

Her eyes blurred as a shudder traveled down her spine, but she snapped back quickly. “Let’s do this.”

Her touch was like fire on his chest, the potion even more so. Her fingers were so thin, so delicate, and Sam’s cock twitched as he imagined her tiny hands trying to hold on as he wrecked her against the wall.

By the time she was done, Sam was stiff and his head was swimming. Eliot came towards him, ready to be anointed. His chest was firm and warm beneath Sam’s fingers, and he lingered there, caught in the moment, marveling at how not strange it was anymore. There was something in the air, something in the spell that took away all the hesitation, flooding his brain with arousal and confidence.

Eliot smiled as Sam’s hand finally fell away. “You’re real pretty, Sam. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Hazel eyes glowed bright and his hand returned to Eliot’s chest, slowly rising to curl around the nape of his neck. “So are you.”

The same heat in the tincture was in their kiss; lips and breath on fire as Eliot kissed Sam back, pulling him closer with a firm hand on his ass. Hips pushing against hips, fingers tangling in hair. Sam’s ears were ringing by the time Eliot let him go and he whimpered under his breath, wanting the heat against his lips again.

Margo warmed him up, slipping easily between them, soft and hot, fitting herself in place. She reached up for Sam and pulled him down by some mysterious string tied around his throat, the same string that now lead him to the bed, pushed him down underneath her, held him captive as her lips traveled his body.

Eliot lit the candle by the bed and smoke filled the room. It was a mist, a thick fog of sweet perfume that rolled around and inside of them, stoked by tongues and fingers, fueled by the rolling of hips.

Sam breathed deeply as Margo lowered herself onto him, straddling his cock backwards as her lips fell to Eliot’s waiting cock. Sam cupped her ass as Eliot gathered up her hair, and they held her in place, each using the push and pull to keep her happy between them.

The louder she moaned, the brighter the mist glowed, swirling around them like something from a dream; a dorm room smoke out lit by neon, a fairy garden at midnight. Sam wasn’t sure anymore where their bodies began and ended, and after a while, he stopped trying to make sense of the moment. They lay in a heap on the bed; legs twisted together, lips never far from supple flesh, tongues always busy, hands kneading and probing.

As her pleasure crested, Margo let out a howl that cleared the fog, sending it straight up above their heads. It curled and spun into a rush of brightly colored wind that hovered over the key. It shot down inside the key as Sam came, growling loudly and digging his nails into Margo’s hips. The key glowed bright gold as Eliot followed, coating Sam’s thighs in hot white.

“Yo! Sam!” Dean turned the corner into the hall, limping a little on his left ankle. “Where you at?”

There was a loud rustle and then a slamming door. Sam emerged from his room, rushing towards Dean, his face bright pink, lips swollen, hair a mess. He fiddled with the buttons of his flannel, not realizing that, in his haste, he had miss matched the top set.

Dean eyed him suspiciously. “Everything OK?”

“What? Yeah.” Sam shook his head as if offended by such a question. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Green eyes fell downwards, zooming in on the crooked buttons. “You’re a mess. Look at you.”

Sam shrugged him off and pushed past him, walking purposefully towards the War Room as he rebuttoned his shirt. “It’s fine.”

Dean sniffed the air as Sam walked by and hobbled quickly behind him. “Did you fuck her?”

“What!” Sam skidded to a halt, pushing out a nervous laugh as he tried to ignore Dean’s darting eyes.

“You did, didn’t you! You fucked Margo!”

“That’s...just rude,” Sam snapped.

Dean gasped dramatically and covered his mouth. “You didn’t...did you fuck him too?”

Sam stood to full height, shocked. “You...what...I…”

Dean held his ground. “You stink like sex.”

“Shut up.”

“You did fuck them!”

“Just...stop it. OK?”

Dean shrugged but smirked as he turned away. “Fine.” Wincing, he shuffled to a chair by the glowing table and sat. “Where are they anyway? I’m due for a little rejection about now.”

Sam sat across the table and smiled. “They are gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yup. Found a spell in Rowena’s books, combined it with a little...magic from their world and…” He threw his hands up, empty, like the Bunker. “They’re home.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully and smiled. “Well. Good work.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell for a bit but Dean’s head was buzzing. “What kind of magic was it?”

Sam picked at the cuff of his shirt. “It was...there...just...Some weird ritual of theirs.” He looked away, blushing at the thought and Dean caught every twitch of his face.

“You did fuck them!”

“Dude, enough, OK!”

“Fine.” Dean sat back in his seat and licked his lips smugly. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

There was a strange pressure in the air suddenly and a loud whooshing sound. Above the table, the air seemed to swirl into tiny hurricane, and the brothers looked up in awe as a small black hole opened up over their heads.

“What the fuck is that!” Dean yelped, tipping the chair back so far he almost fell.

Sam leaned in, squinting up into the darkness. “I don’t know!”

Beyond all comprehension and logic, from out of the mysterious black hole, dropped a fluffy gray rabbit. It fell to the table and took a step towards Sam.

“Thanks for the help,” it said.

Dean gawked. “Did that rabbit just talk to you?”

Sam nodded, just as shocked. “I believe it did.”

The air whirled again and another rabbit plopped down onto the table before the portal closed.

“And sex. Love, Eliot,” the second bunnie concluded.

Green eyes went huge and Dean’s smile was unstoppable. “You dirty boy! You did fuck them!”

Sam stammered. “It was a spell!”

Dean laughed, slapping the table gleefully with his hands. “You fucked ‘em! I knew it!”

Sam let him go on for a few minutes before clearing his throat. “You done?”

Dean giggled. “Yeah.”

The second rabbit wiggled its nose and hopped towards Dean who scooped him up gently. “Uh...what do we do with these?”

Sam shrugged and stood up. “No idea. But I already fixed one mess today. This one’s on you.”

Dean frowned but the bunny in his hands was too cute to ignore. As Sam walked away, he cuddled it close and whispered. “I’m gonna name you Roger.”

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @autumnmoon @because-imma-lady-assface @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwinchesterswitch @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @fangirlxwritesx67 @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space​ @leatherandfrackles​ @lessons-of-red​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @lonewolf471​ @maddiepants​ @mariekoukie6661​ @meganwinchester1999​ @melbelle45 @missjenniferb​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @our-jensen-ackles-love​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @starboycas​ @stephaniecanfield96us​ @stoneyggirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @thebookisbtr​ @the-chocolate-moose​ @thehardcoveraddict​ @thevelvetseries​ @veevm​ @winchestersister55​ @wendibird​ @winecatsandpizza​ @winterpoohbear​

[flamebearrel]

What Puts the “Fun” in “Fun Dead”? Chapter Four

Fandom: Eddsworld

Synopsis: What started out with a simple shopping trip on a snow day ends up with the latest zombie apocalypse. Unfortunately, Mark doesn’t realize until he’s right in the middle of it. Oh, well. Looks like no one else has noticed, either. He’ll just have to give them a few reminders.

Word Count: 1212

Original Post Date: Late 2017

Characters: Mark, an unnamed woman who is intended to be Coco (Minor Edd and Tom)

Ships: None

Trigger Warnings: Zombies, Blood, Biting, Head Injury (Will be added to a bit in later chapters)

Other Notes: Based off the events of the episodes “The Snogre” and “Fun Dead”; intended to take place within canon; the neighbors and the main three are friendlier with each other now; each chapter has a picture to go along with it

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~

“Easy” was not the word Mark would use to describe his trip. If it weren’t for the fact that his neighbors were simply cruising along at such a casual speed, and for the fact that they were blasting a snazzy tune out of their opened windows, he surely would have been lost. Still, it was hard to match pace with a car. When he found a poor man being pinned by a zombie horde, he went straight for the man’s unlocked truck. Mark insisted to himself that it was already too late for the guy as he drove off.

He motored along carefully, staying far enough away from the car he followed so as not to cause suspicion. The last thing Mark wanted to do was freak Edd and his friends out. They didn't seem to notice him at all, which was good, he supposed.

Finally he saw their car slow, turning into a vast parking lot. He stopped his own car nearby. Then, taking a step out, Mark took a look at the towering sign above his head. It read “ASDFLand.”

Mark recognized the name after a moment as the title of an amusement park. Why were they here, of all places? He stared at it in wonder long enough to find that when he turned back around, the neighbors he was following had already went inside.

The blond sighed and went after them. After grabbing a few handfuls of tickets from a broken ticket machine and shuffling past the zombie in the booth nearby, the young man finally stepped through the front gates and took a look at the amusement park before him.

The first thing he noticed was that it was huge.

Rollercoasters and sky drops and carousels burst into life as people rushed onto their docks. Caricature booths and obviously rigged games littered the area as well. There were bursts of eccentric color in the air as swirls of carnival confections were placed in the hands of little ones all around.

Mark almost squealed in delight before he remembered what he had come to do. He scanned the crowd. It was clearly smaller than what was usual for the park, but still, plenty of people were there. Between the vast amount of area to search and the crowds of unaware civilians, it would be difficult to find his neighbors. Not to mention that he could pick out several zombies out there- it wouldn't be long before his friends were toast. He had to hurry.

A young woman with raven-tinted hair and a golden cat hairband was the first person he asked. “Excuse me, miss,” Mark began.

Turning to him, she lowered her candy floss and cringed slightly at the sight of his bloodied turtleneck. “Uh… are you okay? I don't think that much blood out of a single person is normal.”

“Oh don't worry, it’s not mine-” He stopped when she cowered back even more. That made him sound suspicious, didn't it? Immediately he explained, “Er- I didn't kill anyone, honest. It's just… I hate to ruin your fun but another zombie apocalypse has just begun.”

“A-are you sure? That would explain the… bodily fluids you're completely soaked in, but- there hasn't been one in years! How do you expect me to believe-”

Suddenly an ear-piercing scream hit the air as a person nearby was bitten. The crowds abruptly shuffled backwards as he writhed on the floor. Mark flinched, knowing that the man was already on his way to the undead world and feeling extremely helpless about it.

The dark-haired woman nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Maybe you're right. We should get out of here.”

“You need to do that,” Mark replied, “but I can't, yet. Have you seen three men wearing different colored hoodies? Two brunettes and a ginger?”

“No, sorry… good luck finding them though…!” The woman waved and hurried off, to where he hoped would be a safe place for her.

After asking several other people the same thing, Mark decided his method was too grueling to carry on with. He needed to find a new plan… a fast plan… but how could he see them when the world at his eye level was crowded and bustling and impossible to see through?

Wait… eye level. Obviously he had to get to higher ground in order to find them! And he knew how to do just that. The drop tower. Immediately he made off for it, glancing at his map from time to time for reference.

Soon he slowed down to take a look at the towering thrill ride in front of him. To him it felt a million meters high. Mark shook his head, fighting off the nerve-wracking feeling inside of him, and got in line.

Within a few minutes he was offered a seat. The blond took the offer and went to sit down. Mark buckled his grocery bags in next to him, knowing no one would want to sit next to a man soaked in ambiguous blood. Besides, the ride operator didn't seem to care very much. “Just move along,” the man droned before starting the ride.

Up up up, the gondola went, before screeching to a halt at the top of the world. The butt-chin man took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes, and looked over the crowd.

Immediately a flash of green and brown went past the corner of his eye. Yes, Mark could see Edd, having the time of his life on the rollercoasters. He flicked his eyes toward a different corner and quickly noticed Tom, walking towards the arcade. And… yep, there was the woman he had talked to earlier, who was heading for her car. Matt was nowhere in sight, leaving Mark to hope that his friend had just gone to a different area of the park.

Mark considered his options. Going to Edd first wouldn't work, the rollercoaster lines were always way too long. There was no point in finding the woman again, and looking for Matt without any clue where he was would be too difficult. That left Tom. Yes… Tom would probably be the one who could keep his head and help him out the most. Now with a destination seared into his mind, Mark closed his eyes and waited for the ride to rush him back to the world he knew.

Nothing happened. He waited some more. Still nothing. Frowning, the blond glanced down to find what was causing all the holdup.

A zombie was practically on top of the operator when he looked. Not in the mood for drama, Mark simply grabbed another can from his bags and tossed it at them. It hit the zombie in the back of the head and sent the undead creature careening into the controls.

Suddenly the ride rushed downwards without warning. Admittedly, Mark screamed a little, but as soon it stopped he recovered. He lifted up the safety bar, grabbed his bags, and left, but before he could walk through the arcade’s doors a grunt sounded behind him. He turned.

Zombies were everywhere. He could've sworn the amount of them was smaller just a half hour ago…

If they were multiplying this fast then he was running out of time.

Mark pivoted again and ran into the arcade.

[chvrrybaby]

*itzy  vc*  hey  hey  hey   !   (  i  see  that  i’m  icy  )   what’s  up,  i’m  diana,  i’m  nineteen,  and  i’m  ur  resident  girl  group  stan.  i  reside  in  the  est  timezone  &  go  by  the  pronouns  she/her.  now,  finally  introducing  ...  loona    !!   jk,  her  name  is  blair  &  u  can  learn  abt  her  under  the  cut   !   my  discord  is  lana del rey is coming <3#5522   (  stream  her  new  album  august  30th  ),  so  feel  free  to  message  me  there  or  through  tumblr  im’s  if  u  prefer  that   !   otherwise,  i’ll  come  to  u <3

—  kim doyeon. she/her. cis female. | was that blair ryu i just saw in the hideaway lobby ? i hear the nineteen year old spends most of their time working as a sugar baby/studying classic literature and women’s studies, but i’ve always just seen them writing in her dream journal. they live in 5A and i often see them in the halls. they always give me a vibe of loosely curled hair, cherry lip gloss, the lingering scent of vanilla in the air.

(    𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼����𝑫.   )

born on october 5th, 1999  ( this is literally a day before my bday ooc but anyway ajkdhsjdh )  in rochester, new york, blair’s first impression of the world was a crisp autumn day

she was her parents first and only child. her mother was an elementary school teacher, while her father worked at a nearby power plant in ontario

the family never made too much money, but they were able to get by, at least at first

she had a fairly happy childhood, though it was a lonely one. her father was always working odd hours, and with her mother gone during the day, she spent most of her time with a babysitter and the family golden retriever

eventually, she herself started going to school. she immediately excelled in the english department and fell in love with reading. blair realized early on how much she enjoyed escaping reality with a novel, immersing herself in a story so exciting compared to her dull life

almost everything was fine until her high school years. aside from the fact that she never had a present father figure, she was closer to her mom and still loved by both of her parents. however, when her high school years came around, her father lost his job

her father was the families main provider, and her mothers salary alone would not be enough to take care of the entire family. while he searched for another job, they had to give away the family golden retriever to one of blair’s aunts because they couldn’t afford the extra cost :(

on top of losing her beloved pet, the loss of her father’s job prompting the family to pick up and move their entire life

already in the midst of high school, blair had to leave her life as she knew it behind. the family moved to statesboro, georgia, and her father found a job at the nearby power plant

the transition to life in georgia was not easy for blair. though she didn’t exactly have trouble making friends, she didn’t feel like she could truly connect with anyone

once again, blair turned to losing herself in a book to pass the time

shortly after the move to georgia, her parents experienced some difficulties within their marriage. they ended up separating, and blair spent the remainder of her high school years living with each of them for half of the time

she did not mind her parents separating, as she knew it was for the best. however, her father found a girlfriend fairly quickly, and blair would eventually find out her father had been having an affair

her father spent most of his free time with his new girlfriend and her family. blair was upset at how he prioritized his the new people in his life over her when he was barely ever around for her growing up

meanwhile, her mother was having trouble adjusting to being alone, so she moved back to new york to live with her sister

blair stayed behind in georgia to finish high school, but knew she wanted to go elsewhere for college. she wanted to get as far away from her father and his new life as possible

once blair turned eighteen, she began to sell pictures for money. she wanted to earn as much as possible so she could afford to go away for university. she created an alias and began to sell pictures and videos of her feet. eventually, she expanded her horizons once she realized how much money she could earn

she never went as far as sleeping with her clients, but she would go on dates with them and spend the days with them to earn more money ( kind of like ludovica/chiara in the italian show baby on netflix minus sleeping w them )

she dated a few people throughout her high school years, and began to more “seriously” date a guy during her senior year in high school, though she knew the relationship wouldn’t last. despite appearing as a more serious relationship, to her, it wasn’t really anything of the sort, and she mostly wanted a relationship for senior prom and other trivialities

after senior year ended and she had accepted admission into uni in seattle, she basically cut ties with everyone in georgia aksdjskdjh she said good bye forever ! rip poor unnamed boyfriend he didn’t see it coming ...

her father also did not see it coming because she didn’t even tell him where she applied. but at the same time, did he ask ? no :/

once she left for uni, her relationship with her father became very very estranged. she still speaks to her mom on a pretty regular basis, but even then, she has a whole secret life and doesn’t feel particular close to either of them sjkdfhskdjh

and that’s that for background !

(   𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀.   )

blair is a libra sun leo moon ( rising sign & other placements tbd )

she is definitely a friendly/sociable person. she can be pretty outgoing and loves to be around people. idk her mbti yet but she is def an extrovert ! ( she does tend to keep her feelings to herself tho )

despite her friendly demeanor, she does have a fiery spirit. if u wrong her she will hold a grudge against u until it gets settled/sorted. she can be more on the mean side when she’s upset, but even then she does not have a bad heart at all

when it comes to relationships, blair is all over the place. she can be very flirty/charismatic and is constantly hopping from one relationship to the next. she hasn’t quite been able to settle down, but it is possible. she kind of thinks being in a real relationship means losing her freedom, because that’s kind of what she saw happen with her parents, so she doesn’t really want to be tied down to someone in fear of losing herself in a way. does this make sense ? maybe ? ok !

blair has a fairly strong sense of self, but she’s still very young so she’s still growing and changing. she is the type of person to know what she wants and go after it ( yes, even with ppl ! ). she will stop at nothinggg to get what she wants ( oop ). u could say she loves the chase, but kind of gets bored afterwards unless u have more to offer !

omg she literally loves 2 be the center of attention. i mean, who doesn’t love attention ? but blair takes it 2 another level. she gets all :( if she’s being ignored or isn’t receiving enough attention

kind of bouncing off the whole attention thing, blair loves a good party ! she’s young and here for a good time. she def loves to drink at parties and stuff even tho she isn’t legal here in the us, why should that stop her am i right ? when it comes to drugs, she’s a veryyy casual user and doesn’t do anything crazy. a social weed smoker n will do pills here and there

being a libra sun with a leo moon, i think it’s safe to say she can be a bit dramatic at times ( i mean, as a libra sun with a leo venus i am not one 2 judge xx ). she reads 2 much and watches 2 many movies like ajkdhsjkhd life rly isn’t that serious but she can b a lil overdramatic sometimes whew ! we told u this was melodrama ... lorde stans make some noise !

blair’s fav books are anything by jane austen and les liaisons dangereuses by pierre choderlos de laclos, aka the book cruel intentions was based on ( which happens 2 be one of her fav movies )

shows she loves: gossip girl ( she shares a name w blair so she probably used 2 call herself queen b in high school or something ), desperate housewives ( no wonder this binch is so dramatic ), big little lies, pretty little liars ( the early seasons only ), the netflix show baby, and buffy the vampire slayer

movies she loves: clueless, almost famous, thoroughbreds, moulin rouge, palo alto, marie antoinette, coyote ugly, american beauty, cruel intentions, and valley of the dolls ( to name a few )

her fav colors are pink, red, and white !

u can find her pinterest board here.

she is bisexual babey !!

(   𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.   )

party buddies - this is pretty basic and self explanatory, but someone blair can go out and have fun with. their friendship might be more surface level, or started that way at least, but it’s possible they’re closer friends ( maybe she opened up under the influence and it brought them closer aksdhsdjh drunk blair def would )

ex-fling/gf/bf - blair relationship hops, so she could have quite a few of these. we can plot it however, there can b feelings there, they can hate each other, of they can be just friends now, u name it !

unrequited crush -  ur character could have feelings for blair, but maybe she doesn’t feel them back or is unaware that they like her. this could develop into her eventually having feelings for ur muse or not, whatever we want ! OR blair could def have a crush on someone who does not like her back. maybe that person is super non-committal, or they simply do not like her back. we could plot this out however <3

current fling/friends w benefits - someone she is currently seeing/sleeping with. could be no strings attached, or there could b some feelings there. maybe they don’t want to make it anything serious, or maybe they’re ready to take it to the next level. maybe one person is ready to go further, and the other isn’t.

enemies w benefits - imagine the tension!!! they started out hating each other, but ended up hooking up. maybe it was a one time thing, or maybe they can’t stop going back to each other. i think it would b cool if they kept it a secret, they don’t want anyone else to know. this could develop in soooo many ways !

ex-friends - someone she used to consider a close friend, but they had a falling out for whatever reason n maybe they hate each other now. maybe they want to re-kindle their friendship but don’t know how

sibling-like friendship - someone she sees like a sibling. they’re there for each other and look out for one another, always have each other’s backs. being an only child and not really close to her parents, blair would love a friend that she could basically call family !

dynamic duo - basically like her current best friend. this person is prob one of the closest people to her and knows her very well ! they could b a power duo, always looking out for each other 

take care - someone who kind of looks after her ?? maybe when she parties a lil too hard and drinks a lil too much, someone who kind of takes care of her n makes sure shes ok ! they would be someone she trusts a lottttt

confidant - someone who confides in her or someone she confides in, or they confide in each other. they don’t necessarily have to be the closest friends ever, but they get along, trust each other, and maybe they talk more in private

rivals - they hate each other for whatever reason. maybe it’s jealousy or their personalities just clash, but for whatever reason they do not get along. i love a good enemies plot. they can just b nasty to each other !!! maybe they bring out a really bad side to blair that most ppl dont see. someone who makes her act like blair waldorf ( i’m def kidding abt the blair waldorf part )

bad influence - blair isn’t a goody-two-shoes by any means, but doesn’t really do anything crazy, so i’d luvv for someone to kind of influence her to do shit she normally wouldn’t on her own

these are all the plot ideas i can think of for now, but i’ll prob make a plots page later on and add more stuff !

so this is everything !! this has taken me longer than it should have but i’m finally done whew,,, cheers 2 me <3 anyway i would absolutely luv to plot, so feel free to hit me up on discord or tumblr im’s, or i can also come to u ! i’m so excited to get started <333 i’m gonna b logging off now most likely, since it’s 3 am my time, but i’ll be back in the morning

[tinydemondragon]

On the Subject of Mermaids

Mermaids are fickle creatures, and very, very different from what Disney has led you to believe. Be careful that you don’t get them mixed up with their siren cousins, mermaids, are far more alien, and ferocious. Just because they don’t hunt you, doesn’t mean they wouldn’t kill you if you ventured too close.

Still, I have put in the hours of careful research and notes of scientists long since dead to give you guys a better picture of what we’re dealing with when we talk about mermaids. This is gonna be a long ride, but today we’re just going to ease you into it with the basics, their looks.

What does a mermaid look like, you may be wondering. This was, admittedly, really difficult to determine. Misinformation runs rampant in the Study of Fantastical Creatures community, as it’s very small and usually not taken seriously. As such, I’ve had to parse through loads of bullshit and things that were just plain wrong to get an accurate picture. Add in the absolute garbage that is Disney’s Ariel and people don’t really understand the looks of a real mermaid. (No hate Disney, please don’t sue. I’m just a poor college student pursuing The Truth.)

The main shape is that of a human on top, and a fish on bottom, and they are generally human sized. Coloration varies from mer to mer, with general colorings staying consistent from family to family (more on that later). The coloring ranges from black to red. This is more than likely due to the fact that light doesn’t penetrate the bathypelagic zone (the area which mermaids call home -- more on this later). These colored scales don’t stop at just the waist, however. They come up and cover most of the torso, the only really uncovered spots being the hands, stomach, pectoral areas, and face. It’s not entirely known why these areas are left uncovered.

Gills are located along the neck, and they are virtually undetectable. I managed to get a hold of a man’s notes on the biology and anatomy of mermaids, though he shall be unnamed as his study of them was unethical and frankly deplorable. While I now know the skeletal structure of mers, and what their bones are made of, I feel the need to remind you that mermaids are a species that National Marine Fisheries Service has declared the hunting and killing of as illegal. You will face a heavy fine along with prison time if you are found with the remains of a mermaid. In addition, the SFC has declared Mermaids an intelligent species, on par with humans. Thus, it is supremely unethical to murder them, and the SFC and NMFS are working on getting the charge to be manslaughter. This has been your friendly psa. I will not say it again.

Moving on.

Along the tail fin, there are dorsal and pelvic fins, along with caudal keels. The dorsal fins help with sudden movement and balance, while also allowing them to move against the current. Pelvic fins help with sharp turns, along with moving up and down without having to bend at the waist. Caudal keels are why mermaids are such deadly predators, increasing their speed and providing further stability to the tail fin.

The face of the mermaid is something else that is heavily debated. Some believe it to be enchanting, others think of them as horrifically alien creatures. Regardless, we do know that they possess incredibly sharp, needle like teeth. In addition, their eyes are completely black, all pupil, to better receive what little light there is produced by the bioluminescent creatures in the bathypelagic zone. It is assumed that they are in possession of nictitating membranes as well, so they never lose what little sight they have. It is possible that they are in possession of a nose, however many believe that to be false, instead stating there are slits where a nose should be. This indicates that their sense of smell is rather dull.

Their hands are claw tipped and webbed, enabling them to grasp slick prey easier, and to travel faster. The unnamed scientist had a partially decomposed hand, with the claws still attached. Based on the feeling of the claws, along with the overall texture and hardness, I would guess that the claws are actually bone, rather than dead skin cells like our own nails. This would indicate that, more than likely, the loss of a claw would hinder the mer, as the claws wouldn’t grow back.

Next time, we will go over the environment that you can find mermaids in, along with their hunting habits.

(Disclaimer, I am not a marine biologist. If you guys have any corrections, feel free to let me know so I can edit this! I want to make a version of a mermaid that is as realistic as possible, while also being something that we wouldn’t generally imagine!)

Part two

[platypik]

Wrote the First Chapter of Defenders of Tomorrow Just for Funsies

Also. I just love Leakira.

--

The Castle of Lions was a relic: living history. The building was old: very old, and nearly falling apart. Its walls hung tall and stony against the framework like it was going out of style and the thick slabs of pale stone that lined the walls looked like they were holding together by complete luck. Its pillars and columns were riddled with so many cracks, it was a miracle the place was still standing.

That wasn’t to say it wasn’t beautiful: with its high walls and tall towers that shone brilliantly at the touch of moonlight. Intricate traceries weaved their way up the palace like vines, although much of the meticulous detail had chipped away over the years. The halls were lined with intricately mosaiced windows and padded with plush carpet that may have been exquisite at a time but had long since faded to a sour red.

The castle stood, a stark anachronism, contrasting quite spectacularly against the high rises and neon lights that crowded the inner city. It was perhaps the only remaining piece of Altea: the one thing even the Galra couldn’t bring themselves to destroy.

All was quiet in the southern wing of the castle. Servants and diplomats alike had settled down for the evening, and only the occasional guardsman disturbed the darkened halls. Pale light from the city filtered through the windows, casting broken, flickering beams across the walls. One briefly hit the form of a dark figure, passing unseen in and between the jagged shadows that lined the room.

His stature and figure indicated male, but only barely. He was still rather scrawny, not to mention on the shorter side, but this wasn’t to say he lacked agility.

The figure passed swiftly through the halls, clad in all black. The cape of a cloak billowed behind him soundlessly. He paused, cocked his head to one side and then the other, listening. Nothing other than the soft murmur of the city below permeated the space and, satisfied, he continued down the hall: markedly more cautious.

He looked like the shadow of a bird: darting about almost erratically. Hopping and stopping and inching. Pausing to search the air, to listen for sounds of trouble.

He stopped at a doorway near the end of the hall, just barely tilting his head out before darting back again. He repeated this twice more, each time inching out a little further. Finally satisfied, he scurried quickly across the length of the hall.

The figure stopped in front of a tall, stained oak door positioned between two large windows. One held in its glass a wilting lily, the other: a rose.

A hand darted out from under the cloak, holding something long and slender that flashed silver in the light of the window. There was a long pause, where the figure was quite still. The air stagnated with a lingering hesitation, one that lasted nearly a minute. And then the figure kicked the door in.

The headlines the following morning read: “King Zarkon’s Head of Tactics - Brutally Murdered. No signs of exterior break-ins. No leads.”

Two years later.

Leandro leaned casually against the dark brick wall of an unnamed alley that stretched between 1st and 2nd street. The evening air around him hung light and cool, tangy with the taste of salt. The sky had turned a dark amber as the sun had set over the bay, and was slowly fading a deep blue. Street lamps had begun to flick on around him, casting the grimy walls of the alley a soft yellow and slanting shadows across everything.

The buildings on this side of town were a lot more rugged than they were in the Galra district: all the skyscrapers and flashy lights replaced by lines of dingy apartments and shady alley after shady alley. It always seemed like people were...lurking here, more than living. Just slinking around from one sketchy part of town to the other. Leandro supposed that’s what they were doing now: hiding out in this mucky little side street like they were.

He slouched with one hand stuffed in the pocket of his faded blue jeans. The other held a thin sheet of paper that had a rather sizeable rip through the top where he’d torn it from the job board. Leandro regarded it thoughtfully, although he couldn't say he actually found it all that interesting. Mostly, he was trying to look busy, and serious. That’s what a squad leader was: cool and brooding and junk.

On the paper stared back at him the dark eyes of someone in their early twenties who’d seen a lot more in their two decades than most should have to in their whole lives. Of someone who was giving the world a rough time when that’s all it had given him. Now see, there was someone who was definitely good at brooding.

Longer, charcoal black hair fell in pieces around a sharply defined face: the rest was pulled back behind his head in a loose ponytail. A pair of tinted goggles hung loosely around his neck, and he wore a well-fitting black jacket with a fur-lined hood. The collar and sleeves were neatly trimmed in a red that complimented the color of his shirt.

Straight through the middle of the tear at the top of the page was  a single letter - “K."

Although, he couldn’t care less about the kid. Leandro was way more interested in the seven-figure reward posted in big, blocky letters just below him.

“Hey Hunk, I think Leandro’s got a new crush,” Petra trilled snidely from across the alley, wiggling her eyebrows up and down suggestively. She was a smaller girl with short, choppy blonde hair and big round glasses that nearly covered her whole face. And, although she didn’t look it, Leandro knew from experience that she was good in a fight.

“Uh huh, uh huh, that’s nice,” Hunk was obviously not paying attention, eyes still locked on the line of cars moving down 2nd street.

“Can it, would ya Petra?” Leandro shot, stuffing the paper into the pocket of his trench coat. “I’m just making sure I know the guy’s face when we see him.” He crossed his arms tightly, turning resolutely away from Petra. The last thing he needed tonight was her incessant teasing. He needed focus, for this mission to go flawlessly. He needed that bounty.

“Still nervous about your first mission, huh?”

“No.” Leandro made a muffled, frustrated noise. He bit his lower lip. “Yes. Maybe. A little.” He turned further into the wall, pulling his arms tighter against his chest. “And it’s not my first! I’ve gone out plenty of times.”

“First time leading one.”

Damn it. Why was Petra still so good at reading him? A few years ago yeah, sure, he was new and naive, and you could make out just about everything that went through his head by a look alone. But he was better now! More controlled.

So it was infuriating when Petra could sit there and read him like an open book.

She gave him a small smile, “It’s alright, you’re doing great so far.” She began scuffing at the ground with the toe of her boot, “I’m sure Veronica was scared her first mission as squad leader, and I know Nadia was. And besides, you’ve got Hunk and me. Trust me, neither of us would be here if we didn’t think you were at least semi-competent at this whole leader business. You’ll do great.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leandro huffed. But he couldn’t help the small smile that briefly flashed across his face.

“Hey guys, we’ve got movement. Pretty big movement, actually.” Hunk called from down the alley.

Leandro pushed off the wall, jogging up behind Hunk with Petra close on his heels. He pulled a pair of sleek black binoculars out of the inside pocket of his trenchcoat, focusing them on Romelle’s Bridge. It was broad, cast iron, but not particularly spectacular apart from the fact it stretched across the entirety of the bay: linking them to the Galra district.

“Where, where, I don’t see,” Leandro bobbed back and forth, leaning forward until his knees were pressed against the back of Hunk’s reefer.

“Aw, he went behind that container ship. Here, wait wait, just listen.” Hunk held up a finger, indicating the other two fall silent.

Leandro lowered his binoculars. All three leaned forward curiously, heads turned towards the bridge. He couldn’t hear anything at first, just the dull thrum of traffic and the occasional shout or holler behind them. He craned his neck forward, letting his eyes slide shut and focusing solely on listening for anything deviating from the humdrum of the city.

It came as a soft murmur at first, not something you’d easily pick apart from the standard din, but it immediately caught Leandro’s attention. It was indistinctly the whine of a cycle. The murmur heightened in pitch suddenly, ascending to a dull roar and rapidly growing louder. Leandro’s eyes snapped open, scanning the bridge through his binoculars.

His eyes landed on a lone motorist at the other end, streaking across the bridge impossibly fast through the thick rush hour traffic. He was nearly halfway across when Leandro lowered the binoculars, grin spread wide across his face.

“Oh, that’s definitely him.”

“Yeah, well when I saw him across the bay, it looked like he had some guys following him. But I think they got kinda,” Hunk held a hand up in front of him, sliding it up and down to gesture a wall, “Caught in traffic. I mean that’s good for us. You know it’s nice not to be the ones the Galra are trying to kill for once. I mean, probably. I’d guess K is a higher priority -- I mean he is an assassin -- plus he’s the one with the big money over his head. Actually, I wonder how much our bounty would be if we--”

“Hunk, you’re rambling buddy,” Leandro had the binoculars trained on the dark shape of the motorcycle as it wove its way through the sea of cars. The bridge led out directly onto 2nd street and seeing as the road was one way, the motorist would have to pass right by their little alley.

Leandro’s grip tightened on the binoculars. “Petra, you all set?”

She gave a small, affirmative grunt. “Yeah. We’re ready for him.”

“Woah Woah Woah, wait is that a harpoon gun?” Hunk gasped, and Leandro could see him reel to the side in his peripherals.

“Yeah. Were you listening when I was going over the plan earlier?”

“Sorry,” Hunk sounded actually apologetic, “It’s just I haven’t eaten since noon, and you stopped us to debrief like right in front of this fish and chips place I like to go to sometimes, like oh man they have the best--”

“Hunk, not the time,” Petra shot.

“Get ready for him, he’s nearly at the end of the bridge.” The sound of the motorcycle was nearly deafening now. Leandro tensed, the muscles in his legs and shoulders coiling, loading like a spring. “Mind your timing Petra, fire too early or too late and it’s big trouble.”

He heard a slide and click as Petra slid the harpoon into place. “You aren’t the only one who can fire a gun, you know.”

“Hey guys, is our plan really just to fire a harpoon at his bike? Because that’s really not--”

“Shut it Hunk,” Leandro and Petra shouted in unison.

“Get ready,” Leandro’s eyes didn’t leave the motorcycle. His breath caught in his throat: bated. “Almost...almost...” He squinted, worrying the inside of his cheek. “Turned, he turned, he turned,” Leandro tore away from his binoculars, “Petra shoot now.”

Biting down harshly on her lower lip, Petra pulled the trigger and sent the harpoon whizzing through the air towards the street just as a loud, roaring streak of red passed them by.

At first, it looked like it had just barely missed the back end of the motorcycle. Leandro smirked. This wasn’t over yet.

The tip of the harpoon seemed to freeze mid-air, lingering a fraction of a second, before turning sharply in the direction of the motorcycle. It chased after it several more yards before piercing the back wheel.

Leandro’s hands flew to his ears at the ear-shattering bang that ensued, followed by the sickening sound of metal crunching. An eruption of car horns began to blare, and Leandro could taste smoke.

Petra pumped her fists in the air, jumping up excitedly. “Yes!”

“Uh, how did that actually just work? That missed him. That totally missed him. How did you get it to...” Hunk paused as realization dawned on him, “Ooooh that was that thing we planted on his bike last week! The electromagnetic pulsator whatever. I thought it was just a tracker.”

Leandro and Petra pushed past Hunk, running out into the open air of the street.

“Yup!” Leandro spared a quick glance at Hunk as he began weaving his way through the mess of stationary cars. “And then Petra put that doohickey on the tip of the harpoon, so when we shot it, it locked onto that electro whosma whatsit!”

“It was a little more complicated than that,” Petra huffed directly behind him. “Actually, if you’re interested in the schematics Hunk, I--”

“No time for science stuff! C’mon, we gotta get to him before he runs off!”

“Remind me why we didn’t just capture him when we found his motorcycle?” Hunk had already begun panting, “It took us forever to find that bike.”

Leandro slowed, turning back towards Hunk, “He’s an assassin, remember? We couldn’t just stand around his bike, hoping he’d show up. He’d get the jump on us!”

“We needed the element of surprise on our side,” Petra explained, “You don’t just get to drive around in something that loud doing something that sketchy without being good at disappearing when you want to. It would’ve been too easy for him to slip away.”

Thus, they’d staged the car accident. Using the tracker they’d planted, they were able to figure out where he was, and where he was likely going. Then it was just a matter of figuring out how to take out the motorcycle.

Leandro imagined outmaneuvering pursuers was hard enough without a mess of cars and confused passengers blocking your way. Plus it risked injury to their target, pulling the odds in their favor.

It had all been Leandro’s plan, naturally. Which is why they’d picked him to head the squad that would carry it out.

Leandro broke through the cluster of cars into a small clearing, at the far end of which sat the smoking husk of a motorcycle. Bent over it were the sparking remains of the lamp post it’d run into. The form of the assassin K sat hunched against the cycle, silhouetted ominously by several dozen headlights.

He was actually quite impressed K was conscious at all, after a crash like that.

Leandro’s sprint fell into a confident strut as he approached K, his hands thrown casually into the pockets of his trench coat. He stopped just in front of K, giving him a sweeping, uninterested glance. He looked exactly like the picture had. All sleek and stoney.

K sat, hands clenched into fists at his sides, panting heavily. He glared up at Leandro, thick brown eyes stapled into a head framed by choppy black hair that had fallen out of its ponytail. They bore into him, forced their intensity onto Leandro, made him feel the same heat they held. There was so much will in those eyes. This wasn’t a man. This was an explosion waiting to happen.

The picture really hadn’t done him justice.

In just a fraction of a second K’s hand had moved to the katana strapped to his back. He’d pulled the blade nearly halfway out of its sheath when K felt the click of a pistol press hard against his forehead. Leandro couldn’t help but grin at the bitter look that flashed across K’s face, realizing he’d wound himself up in check.

“So, you’re Akira.” Leandro grinned cockily at his target.

Akira’s eyes went wild for a second, filled with something primal. No, it wasn’t quite fear...it was anger. “How do you know my name,” Akira whispered harshly.

Leandro shrugged casually, “Did my research. Found a couple of people who knew you before you started running around as K. Hmmm K...K...what does that stand for anyway?”

“None of your business.”

“Killer? Kill...ing? That’s kind of on the nose though...or...oh! It’s like A-Kira. So do you actually go by Kira, then?”

“I said it’s none of your business!” Akira shouted, swiftly pulling his katana and slamming the hilt into Leandro’s hand, forcing him to release the pistol. It hit the ground with a sharp crack, skidding out of reach. In an instant, Leandro felt the sharp pressure of a blade held directly to his throat.

 Akira’s eyes blazed not inches from his own.

“Leandro!” Petra called roughly from somewhere behind him.

It was sweet of her to worry, but there was no need. Leandro shot Akira a toothy grin, pulling out the hand still stuffed in his pocket and with it a pistol identical to the first. He had it pressed to Akira’s chest before he had time to react.

“Hope you didn’t think it’d be that easy.”

Akira glanced down at the gun. “Quintessence?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

“The barrel’s glowing bright blue,” Akira deadpanned.

“Well, yeah, it’s quintessence. Just got them recently, if you care to know. Bit of an upgrade. I was promoted, actually.”

“Congratulations.”

“Oof. I can’t tell what’s sharper, your tone or the sword.”

“it’s a katana,” Akira growled.

Leandro did his best to shrug, “Looks like a sword to me.”

Akira tensed suddenly, his eyes darting up somewhere over Leandro’s shoulder, “Take one more step, and I slice his throat open!”

Leandro heard Petra give a muffled, affirmative grunt behind him. She must have been trying to help. He felt a little guilty for that: making his friends watch helplessly while he was bickering with the man who had a sword to his jugular.

Leandro sighed.

“Alright, I’ll just be the one to say it: this is super boring. And we all know you’re kinda trapped anyway, ya know with my friend there and the Galra on their way, sooooo....what do you say you lower your sword, and I drop my pistol, and we do this thing like respectable, murderous adults?”

Akira’s face was beyond incredulous, bordering on shock. He relaxed it quickly, letting a sly grin take its place. “You're pretty confident, buddy.”

“Yup.”

“You really think you can catch me? Something no other bounty hunter or Galra squadron has been able to do in the past two years?”

“Mmm...yes.”

Akira grinned, “Alright. Let’s do this.”

“Drop on three,” Leandro tensed. “Oh! And no cheating and slicing my throat once I lower the gun. Cause then Petra’ll totally shoot you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Three...two.....one and a half.......one and a quarter...”

“Leandro!” Petra shot.

“Alright, alright! Three two one go!”

Akira withdrew his blade, hopping back a step and Leandro lunged for his other pistol. He turned back, grinning. Akira leveled a stare with him, eyes lingering on Leandro’s a brief moment, before he turned and bolted in the other direction.

“H-hey!” Leandro called indignantly, “Come back! That’s cheating!”

“Leandro! Wait!” Petra called out behind him. He ignored her, obviously. What, was he supposed to just let this guy get away?

Leandro pushed himself into a sprint, hoping his long legs would give him the advantage on speed. Akira slid over a car a dozen feet ahead of him, then turned left sharply and disappeared into the crowd of rubbernecks. Leandro cursed loudly, jumping onto the roof of the car of a very irritated, older Galran woman.

There: he spotted Akira struggling to push through a curious group of onlookers to his left.

“Leandro!”

“Losing him!’ He shot back annoyedly.

He was beginning to catch up, could see Akira not five feet ahead of him ducking and dipping through the stalled traffic.

“LEANDRO! Stop!”

Akira came to a sudden halt, wriggling and twitching like a salted slug, before falling to the ground in a spark of blue. Leandro was only barely able to stop himself before he met the same fate thanks to Petra’s warning.

Akira lay on the ground, twitching and apparently unconscious for the moment. Petra and Hunk sauntered up behind Leandro. He whirled back on them, still a little shaken.

“Holy crow, what was that?”

Petra crossed her arms proudly, “Particle barrier. While you were busy flirting, I had Hunk make himself useful and sneak away to set one up around the perimeter. Then I overloaded the system, so it’s pretty much an electric fence. It’s, ah, not very good for the receptors mind you--one’s already burned out -- but--”

“Petra! You impy little genius!” Leandro grabbed her, pulling the girl into a tight hug.

“Hey!” she sounded, annoyed, but the smooshed grin on her face said otherwise.

“Uh, hey guys, still here. Also, so is that K guy, and hate to break the mood, but we don’t know how long he’s gonna be knocked out like that. So might wanna tie him up or something. I dunno, just a thought.”

“Oh! Right!” Leandro pulled away from Petra, turning to Akira. He knelt down, giving him a worried look. “Hey Petra, how high’d you set the voltage exactly? He’s looking a little...less than living.”

“Eeeyyuummmmmm...” Petra trailed off, just a bit awkwardly. “I mean, for starters, the voltage wouldn’t matter in terms of electrocution, that’s wattage. But still, I’m not...sure? We were kinda rushed, so I just sorta winged it. Lemme...get back to you on that.” Petra ran over to one of the receptors, flipping it off and beginning to fiddle with it.

Hunk sighed. “Not that either of you cares, but I think I just heard someone zap themselves on the ‘fence.’ I’m gonna start collecting these before we end up with fried Galra.” Hunk began making his way along the ‘perimeter’ they’d set up: switching off receptors as he went.

Leandro furrowed his brow, drilling his fingers steadily on his knee. He shifted his weight from foot to foot thoughtfully. Leaning forward on the balls of his feet, he placed his head on Akira’s chest. “It’s faint, but he’s still breathing,” Leandro said, relieved. Petra gave a slight nod, still engrossed in the receptor.

Leandro narrowed his eyes, snapping his fingers in front of her face, “Hello, Earth to Petra. Super deadly assassin guy’s alive. Wanna help me tie him up, or what?”

“Yeah...sorry.” Petra, a bit reluctantly, set aside the receptor and began digging through the light olive satchel slung around her shoulder. It only took her a moment before she’d produced a pair of twin metal rings. Leandro helped her fasten them around Akira’s wrists. Then, they rolled him onto his stomach, pulling his hands behind him. Petra held out a small cylindrical key, which Leandro was able to fit comfortably into a slender hole on the side of the cuffs. Twisting the key, the two rings began to hum, snapping together almost immediately.

“Leandro,” Petra whispered, smacking his shoulder.

“Huh? What’d I do?” He looked up from where he’d been situating Akira upright against a lamp post.

She nodded towards a rather large group of people with all too annoyingly familiar purple hair and red visors. The Galra’d finally managed to drag their asses over to see what had happened, then.

“Hunk!” Leandro shot, turning around almost wildly, scanning the crowd of cars and onlookers. His eyes landed on the big oaf a quarter block down, cradling a  precarious pile of receptors. “We gotta bounce.” Hunk didn’t even need to see the small troop of Galra enforcers to start jogging towards them. 

Leandro knelt down in front of Akira, wrapping his arms around the other’s (surprisingly thin) waist and hauling him over his shoulder. He rose to his feet with some effort and a low grunt, but the dude was surprisingly light. Well, as light as an unconscious guy can be. He was still going to be hella annoying to carry.

They took off the second Hunk had rejoined them, tailed by a small chorus of ‘hey!’s as the enforcers began to slowly pick up what was going on.

Leandro could feel his face lighten, and he couldn’t shake off the grin that had spread ear to ear. He loved the thrill of the chase, although he doubted the enforcers would be able to rally and make their way through that crowd any time before they’d slipped away. Still, the rush of a plan gone right propelled him forward, and his sprint had turned into something that was nearly a skip.

With a small grunt, he turned around, so he was jogging backward. Leandro smirked, unable to help himself, “Suck my--”

“Leandro! Let’s go!”

“Aw Petra, you’re no fun,” he whined, turning back around to run properly.

Forget money problems for the next few months, this Akira guy would have them loaded.

--

Their base of operations was located in a squat factory that sat along an unused part of the bay. Archaically old and long ago abandoned, there weren’t even streets left that ran to the place. The only way to get to it was a long and sometimes annoying trek through the long grass that grew along the banks.

The building was made of old red brick, dusted pink from long hours of sun exposure. The few windows that lined the walls were either impossibly grimy or completely paneless. Tall smokestacks poked out of the top, so covered in soot and sludge that they cast long black shadows on the darkened night sky.

Leandro stood just a stone’s through up from the water, readjusting Akira on his shoulder for the umpteenth time that night. Petra was still working on deactivating the alarms -- a long and painstaking process that took quite a bit of time on a good night.

The bay had turned an inky black. The tiny lights of the Galra housing district glittered and danced across the surface of the water, almost like stars. Above them rose the tall, serene figure of the Castle of Lions. It hovered above the city like a ghost, silent and subdued, and watching.

It had been nearly three hundred years since the Galra had invaded the Altean Empire and claimed this land as their capital. And although Leandro had only been around for the last twenty-two of those, he could still feel the wrongness of all of it. The Alteans had lived by democracy and equality. The Galra ruled through fear and segregation. After the Alteans had been wiped out, the humans had been forced into slum-like existences, while the Galra lived it up in the luxury districts.

Leandro sighed, turning his gaze up. There was so much light pollution, it didn’t even look like a proper night sky. It lurked above them, a sickly shade of yellow-black the same color of bile. The whole sky seemed closer somehow. Like a vast ceiling floating far above their heads, blocking out all the stars. But not so far it was unreachable.

Leandro shifted Akira again, grunting at the ache that had sprung up in his shoulder. Was he ever looking forward to dumping this guy off. Honestly, they’d both been lucky Akira hadn’t woken up on their trek over. Because if Leandro’d had to deal with a kicking and resisting captive in addition to lugging his ass all across the sandbanks, he’d have thrown him into the ocean.

There was a small beep and then a sharp click behind him, followed by a relieved sigh from Hunk. Leandro turned back towards the factory, making his way up to where Petra and Hunk stood just outside the entrance.

“Took you long enough,” Leandro griped under his breath.

“It took me as long as it always does.”

“Well, you weren’t the one who had to--”

“Let’s just. Go inside.” Petra let out an exasperated sigh.

Leandro grumbled but didn’t push the argument further. While he was still feeling a little stubborn, Akira wasn’t getting any lighter.

Petra heaved the door open with her shoulder, grunting under the weight of it. Leandro would have offered to help, but the last time he’d tried he’d ended with a Petra-size boot print on his face.

“We’re back!” called Leandro lazily as he strode into the factory, taking the first opportunity he could to drop Akira down next to the wall. Hunk trudged in after him silently, dragging his feet.

The factory was empty: a long metal floor completely barren of all but a few moldy crates and a rusting lathe. No signs of life.

Petra trailed in after them, hauling the door shut. “Could you keep it down, Leo?”

He shrugged, “It’s not like anyone’s gonna hear us. I mean, we’re pretty isolated.”

“Whatever, can we just get going? I haven’t eaten since like, this morning,” as if on cue, Hunk’s stomach let out a loud growl. “See?”

Leandro smirked, “And you’re worried I’m the one making too much noise.”

“Hey,” Hunk sounded hurt.

Still smirking, Leandro turned towards a segment of the wall just next to the door.

“Here, I can grab that--”

“Aw, c’mon Petra, lemme do it for once, would ya?”

She didn’t respond, and Leandro took that as a ‘go ahead.’ He tapped around the wall a couple times, eventually finding the dud brick and pulling it out of its cubby. Inside sat a row of old buttons and switches: designed to blend in with the technologies at the time of the factories construction some two hundred years ago.

He hit the buttons in the order he remembered Petra telling him: the big red one first, a couple of the small black ones, aaaaand flip the weird metal switchy doodad. Perfect.

There was a loud crunch and, just as Leandro had slid the brick back into place, the floor beneath them began to shift. It started moving down steadily and much smoother than one would expect a lift of this proportion to be capable of. Still, it was slow as hell.

It took a whole two or three minutes before the entrance of the base began to slide into view along the wall opposite them. Leandro shifted his weight back and forth, tipping side to side almost anxiously.

By the time they’d nearly reached the bottom, Leandro had already slung Akira back over his shoulder and was bouncing impatiently in front of the growing opening that lead down to the main sector. He jumped off onto the dusty concrete floor several feet below, not willing to wait until the lift had properly grounded itself. Not wasting any time, Leandro began making the trek down the long hallway leading deeper into the facility.

“Always so impatient,” He heard Petra tut behind him.

“Yeah, well I’m with Leandro on this one, actually.” He heard Hunk fall to the floor with a loud thud. “It’s stroganoff night in the cafeteria.”

Petra sighed but hopped down after them regardless. “...fine. I suppose a sense of urgency isn’t the worst possible thing right now--K’s going to be annoying when he wakes up.”

“I second that.” Hunk sniffed, “I still don’t understand why we keep trying to catch these, like, super deadly guys. Like, us specifically. I mean, both Petra and I are techs, strictly speaking. And I for one could go for a lot less danger in my life.”

Leandro whirled around on them, shifting his pace, so he was walking backward. “Pffff, for the money obviously. Do you know how many credits this guy’s worth?” He turned back around, purposefully bouncing Akira up on his shoulder for good measure. Although the action didn’t come without a sharp pain to his upper arm. He winced.

There was another loud groan from Hunk’s stomach. “Ugh, well I hope he’s worth at least a bowl of stroganoff.”

“Please. I bet we could buy a hundred thousand bowls with what he’ll be pulling.”

“Hey, can we just focus on getting him back to Allia first? Leandro, you walk slower when you chatter,” Petra, who’d appeared at his elbow, poked him roughly in the shoulder.

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” Leandro griped. Jeez, Petra could be kind of a tight ass sometimes.

When Akira first came to, he decided not to open his eyes.

It had been the first time. The first time anyone had not only come close to catching him, but somehow actually gone and done it. He’d been cocky, too confident in the fact he was dealing with another group of morons. He’d misstepped. Had discarded his usual air of caution and skepticism, and screwed up big time.

This was his fault.

He’d gotten so...accustomed to dealing with the Galra. It was easy, way too easy, to slip seamlessly under their noses for the privileged group of idiots they were. All purple hair and pointy ears and heads full of fluff. They were nothing.

Bounty hunters had been a problem when he’d first started out and had begun getting good at what he did. As workers in an occupation alarmingly similar to his own, and very often not Galra, they were a little trickier to deal with. But nothing impossible. And after a while, enough stories had begun floating around the undercity, most of them left him alone as well.

But these people...he had definitely not pegged them as a threat. For pete’s sake, they’d fired a harpoon gun at him. Sure it hit, but he still didn’t think they were anything more than stupidly lucky.

No...he’d been wrong about that. Everything about this operation was rigged from the get-go. Purposefully orchestrated to look like a series of happy accidents to get him to lower his guard. A carefully calculated ploy masked under the cover of an amateur’s attempt at making a quick buck. That was the only reason he’d fallen for such an obvious trap. It was kind of brilliant, actually. He had no doubt it had been the short one with the glasses who’d brewed it. She seemed like the type.

Still, it made his skin boil.

Akira had no doubt he’d be running free by the end of the night, but this time he would be doubly sure to act with caution. So, best he bide his time and play unconscious a little while longer.

His hands were restrained, that was the first thing he could discern. And he was on the floor, propped up carelessly against a wall. There was this terrible pain in his chest too, distinct from the general ache that was pulsing through the rest of him. Akira wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple ribs in the accident.

There were at least three people in the room besides himself: the lot that had crashed his bike earlier. They were chatting about something. The reckless one, Leandro, seemed to be talking rather energetically with who he was fairly certain was the smaller one with glasses about some scarf he’d seen in a store today. The bigger fellow would chime in every once in a while, mostly complaining about how long they’d have to wait here.

Akira was wondering the same. Although...waiting for what?

As if in answer to his question, he heard a door somewhere to his far right click open, and the room fell silent. Two pairs of footsteps entered. One stalled by the entrance, but the other didn’t stop until it was nearly beside Akira. Chairs scraped harshly across the floor, and the others joined the mystery person, situating themselves to his left.

Leandro was the first to speak up. “Aaaaand here he is! Our ticket to seven million credits. Neat, clean, and only a little bruised. I almost got my throat sliced open to get him here, you know.” Honestly, Akira had been regretting not cutting the kid open. Then he wouldn’t be in his mess. And honestly, he’d rather be lying back on the street with a hole in his head than have to listen to this guy talk about men’s apparel.

“I’d venture he’s more than a ‘little’ bruised,” said the smaller one, “I’m a bit concerned about his condition, actually. We ended up knocking him out with an electrical shock measuring nearly 10k in wattage, and while his breathing and heartbeat seemed regular -- albeit a bit weak -- he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think that’s quite true,” This voice was new, not placeable to the three from earlier. It seemed to belong to the person who had just entered. It was soft and held a kind sort of warmth. “Come on then Akira, no point in playing possum any longer.”

Akira’s eyes slid open. The voice belonged to a woman with darker skin and gentle eyes. Standardly beautiful, she had long sheets of white hair that curled and weaved down her back in an elegant ponytail. The kindness in her face and the strength in her posture radiated the energy of a natural-born leader. Even more interesting were the two lighter marks beneath her eyes. They looked like little chevrons and shone the faintest shade of blue.

“Altean...” Akira whispered, finding his voice incredibly weak.

The woman nodded, flashing a smile far more genuine than he’d expect to come from any sort of bounty hunter. “Indeed.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me he’s been faking it this whole time?!” Leandro gaped.

Akira leveled a rather nasty glare at him. He’d known the guy all of ten minutes, and he was already starting to piss him off.

“Leandro,” the short one hissed, elbowing him harshly in the ribs. He fell silent, but not before meeting Akira’s gaze with an equally intense stare.

“Akira, was it?” He turned his attention back to the Altean woman. She gave him another encouraging smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I...” he turned to look at the other three, then back at the Altean. “What’s going on here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Leandro puffed his chest out proudly, “We’re gonna turn you in for that big ol’ bounty you got sitting on your head. So we got more, ya know, credits and junk--oof! Petra! Stop doing that!” He turned to glare at the one named Petra, who had just elbowed him again.

“Shut it!” She grumbled, annoyed.

Akira sighed. “You’re bounty hunters then?”

“Occasionally,” the Altean said mysteriously.

“I just...I’m sorry, but I’m not really following. Why am I here? Why are you being so nice, who are you people?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” the Altean beamed. “We are an organization known as the 'Knights of the Coalition of Voltron’ -- or if you’d prefer, simply ‘Voltron’ suffices. We serve as an anti-government, anti-galra agency that seeks to dethrone King Zarkon and return power to the many by reinstituting rightful, Altean rule over this land. We seek justice, fairness, and wellbeing for all citizens of this empire. As for why I have brought you to us,” her tone grew direly serious, “I have a proposition to make.

“Akira Kogane, I would like to invite you to join our number as an agent, and serve alongside us as a knight of Voltron as we tear down this wretched empire.”

[aj-the-psycho]

The Band of Rotten: Chapter 6

THE LONE COWBOY

Summary: Patton roamed the desert with his new companion. Along the way, an unsavory news followed them.

Ao3 Link

United States, 1860

The breeze in the desert did not bring the expected cool air that caress his sweaty skin. Instead, it brought with it loose soil that clouded his eyes and even hotter air. It only made him more restless and long for a cool shade. The mare below him, too, was getting impatient. Orchard no longer walked with vigor, but with exhaustion clear in her posture. Next to him, Roman walked with his feet dragging on the sand, groaning every now and then.

“What is this place you seek, dear rider?”

“Ay, pal, ya talk like some kind of royalty,” Patton commented, forgetting to answer Roman’s question. “It’s funny.”

“I don’t quite understand what you meant, but I take that as a compliment. I have after all, dreamed of being a prince.”

“Oh, and answering yer question, we goinna the coast now.”

Patton lowered his hat lower on his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. It was light-brown in color, almost like wet sand with a darker hatband. His brother had given it to him long ago. And since the day he left, the hat never left his sight. Speaking of, what does a lone cowboy doing, travelling to the east? Patton didn’t quite know either. There were too many things to think about when it comes to reasoning, all tied up to his past. He would rather not think of it at all, lest the memories come biting back.

The two continued their silent walk across the desert which didn’t seem to have an end. It had been a few days, and still the desert goes on. The arid weather and its heat burned whatever it touched—at least it felt that way. Patton had wanted to bolt ahead with Orchard, eager to find someplace to rest. But, a small groan reminded him of Roman’s presence. He could never leave a friend behind.

“How long does this journey take, Patton?” Roman groaned as he dragged his feet. “I think my feet are going to break.”

“Aye, fella, ye don’t have to be dramatic,” Patton said loudly with a good-natured laugh. “Here go, get on the horse.”

Patton hopped off of Orchard’s back, patting the saddle firmly for Roman to get on. Seeing that Roman was about to argue against his suggestion, Patton laughed again, taking Roman’s arm and pushed him lightly towards the mare. After Roman reluctantly got on the horse, a relieved smile painted Patton’s face. He took Orchard’s reign and towed her along as he walked.

“How ‘bout this, pal,” he said with a warm expression, “ye ride for two three hours, then I get on. Another two three hours and ye get on. Sounds good?”

“Of course! Your idea is truly genius!”

“Ye see? Dramatic!”

They continued their way to the east, not stopping until the sun dipped into the horizon. There were sparks of yellows and oranges in the distance; a small town, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. And slowly, the lights became brighter and brighter as they came closer.

“Ey, pal, why doncha hop on the horse, yea?” Patton asked as he gestured towards the small space of the saddle behind him.  We can get to the town faster.”

It took some effort for Roman to get on, especially with the darkening sky, but they managed. With that, the two galloped down to the town, seeking some comfort in the midst of the Wild West dessert. They can see silhouettes of people, walking around leisurely or sitting on wooden landings in front of their houses. And again, as they went nearer, the silhouettes turned into colors. The town was less crowded than they had anticipated. With the little money that Patton had, they decided to go into a saloon to have a little drink.

“Welcome to The Rogue Bull,” the saloon keeper greeted them with a wide grin. “New faces! What a delight, now. What can I getcha?”

“Ay, fella!” Patton greeted back. “An old fashioned for me. Whatcha want Roman?”

“Ah, just ale for me is fine.”

They sat by the bar, watching the keeper work his magic. He was tall, hairy as a bear. His beard was so thick that his face was almost buried in hair—yet nevertheless, he managed to look quite the friendly fellow. The thick overalls he wore looked awkward for such a massive man, but it still worked somehow. And despite his size, he could move around behind the small bar without any accidents of spill. Soon, their drinks were presented to them. Patton did not expect himself to order such alcoholic beverages, but it was just right for him at the moment.

“Anything else I can get ya?” The saloon keeper asked.

“It’s all good here, pal.”

“Right then,” the keeper said again. “Name’s Wyatt. I assume you’re travellers?”

“That, we are!” Patton was enthusiastic as usual. It was as if the long travel did not wear him down at the slightest.

“I can give you some advice. Safety and all.”

“Safety against what?” Roman chimed in with a question. “Thieves and robbers? I think I know how to handle those.”

“Oh no, no, buddy,” Wyatt said as he rubbed his palms together in thought. “Murders.”

The smile that Patton had worn all day fell in an instant. Murder was not something he could simply talk in passing. He took a sip from his glass, hiding his face. He ended up downing the whole glass entirely, grimacing at the harsh taste of alcohol burning his throat. Patton tried putting up a smile. Roman gave him a look, but he decided not to mention it.

“What’s with the murder, pal?” Patton questioned Wyatt, trying to hide his discomfort.

“Well,” Wyatt started, a little hesitant, “there’s been a few people turning up dead or something like that. So far, there’s been six or seven in the past five months.”

“Woah, that is quite a concern!” Roman exclaimed, fortunately conscious enough to keep his voice low. “Don’t you worry, dear Patton. I can protect both of us when the time demands.”

“No need, Roman. I can do that m’self.” Patton gave him a sweet side-smile. Roman knew nothing about his skills with guns.

His fingers drifted to his belt where a holster was fastened. The gun he owned, twin revolvers given by his brother, was as precious to him as gold is to any other man. He remembered the day they were gifted to him. It was his thirteenth birthday. He had been beaming when his brother put a small leather case in front of him in their small bedroom. The grip was marble-white with a horse’s head on each side. It was perfect—and still is. At fourteen years of age, Patton had become the fastest pistol in town—youngest at the time. And it was no wonder that every cowboy clan in town wanted him with them. Though knowing the violence and competition that came with it, Patton refused all offers, even when his sisters and brother joined in.

He ripped himself from the path of his memory. He’d had enough thinking of the past when the present is about to give him something to work with.

“You see,” Wyatt continued his story, “some of those guys who turned up dead were found with bullets in their skulls. Rumor has it they got tied up with some kind of gang from up north.”

“What gang, y’know?” Patton asked, morbidly intrigued. He should know his enemy well if he’s going to fight them. “Shouldn’t be too hard, ain’t it?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, in that case, we should probably head off.” Roman finished his drink quickly upon noticing Patton’s discomfort. He joked, “wouldn’t want to be the next victim, do we?”

Soon enough, the two exited the saloon with a heavy weight on their shoulders. Patton did not say a single word, walking leisurely to where Orchard stood nearby. Roman was a few steps behind him, looking around carefully. At this point, anyone who so much as glanced at them looked suspicious in their cautious mind. Patton hopped on Orchard’s back, ready to gallop away when he remembered Roman with his sad and worn leather bag standing next to him. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his fears and gave Roman a small smile. They walked quickly to the other side of the small, unnamed town, eager to leave it behind them.

They much preferred to camp in the dry and cold desert night rather than risk their life to have some comfort renting a room in the town’s lodging. It became their habit in the past few days, staying in the outskirts of a town rather than staying in—a good habit to have when one does not have money to spend. That night, they settled in the open desert, finding no tree to hide under or even a single bush for cover. The sky was their roof, the stars their night light. The desert was ghost-quiet, only the occasional crackle of firewood and Orchard’s steady breath accompanied their night.

Patton laid his head on Orchard’s back, facing away from his companion. Was he worried about his safety? Not quite. He knew what bothered his mind, but he did not want to acknowledge the thing nagging at the back of his mind. Slowly, he dipped into a restless slumber.

Prologue Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

[tenchikothefangirl]

Where’s Henry?

In honor of a very special event that occurred today in the @ask-joeydrewstudios blog, I have actually decided to do my job and write something, dammit. This is the chaos I have created as a result this evening, at 11 p.m. Enjoy the chaos!

Every little sound was setting him on edge. Every creak of the door and every rustle of paper, was a break in the silence so thick Joey thought it must be made of cotton. He tried to direct his focus elsewhere—paperwork, scripts, reports from the maintenance crew. The words skittered and danced along the pages, mocking him.

Goddammit.

Joey was pretty sure he was losing his mind.

He tossed aside his pen, absently noting the ache in his hands. He rubbed the complaining joints and scanned around his office. Surely he had some sort of mindless busy work in need of attention around here.

Next thing he knew, he was walking out of his office and heading toward his apartment. He wasted an unreasonable amount of time making a fresh pot of tea, and by the time he was done, his counter was spotless, the trash can emptied, and the items in his refrigerator rearranged. Three times.

He didn’t even bother stepping back into his office. Instead, his cup in hand, he went straight for the animation department. If he sped up a little the closer he came, no one was there to see. His heart faltered when he rounded the corner to zero in on Henry’s desk. Empty. Not a single page of work was set (Henry always took his work home with him), and the chair was still pulled aside so the animator could slip into it as smoothly as possible.

Bendy sat next to the chair, not daring to touch a speck of dust. The little toon’s eyes brightened at first until he recognized that it was just his father. His tail fell limp and wrapped around his left leg. Joey’s shoulders fell at the sight. Bendy and Joey looked at one another, but didn’t say a word.

In the room across from Henry’s desk, the rest of the animation team was busy but tense. There was nothing but frowns, and Joey caught a few tense murmurs rumbling among them. One man even snipped at his neighbor.

“Mr. Drew?”

The man behind the voice stood behind him sorting through a collection of papers. Oh, this was one of the newbies. What was his name again? It started with an A…

Joey stepped out of the way, but had to ask, “Has Henry showed up yet?”

The young man quirked a brow, unsurprised. “Sorry, sir, but no.”

“Has anyone gotten any calls from him?”

The man shrugged. “As far as I know, no.”

Joey nodded, his grip on his cup’s handle tightening. He let the young man return to his work, and retreated back to his office where he soon set aside his untouched cup next to the other four.

Joey Drew might have thought he was doing well, keeping his worries in check and away from everyone else, but unfortunately, his mood was a plague that spread fast and infected everyone else in the studio.

As a matter of fact, things were already coming to a head in the break room.

“Can you believe it!?” Sammy raged, slamming his cup of coffee onto the table. “Joey has come in and out of my department six times—six times—today, telling me how to do my job! I swear if the tapes weren’t still rolling, I would have clobbered the bastard!”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Susie grabbed Sammy by the arm and dragged him into the nearest chair. His scowl never wavered, but his leg was bouncing so fast, the table rattled.

Shawn, who had been listening to Sammy’s incessant tirade, frowned. “I’d hate to say it, but I can understand that completely.” He groaned as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “It’s one thing to get a surprise visit every once ’n a while, but this is ridiculous. Hardly an hour into my work, and Mr. Drew is in and out, scannin’ over every doll we make.” His face screwed up in distaste. “Not a word said between a hello and a goodbye.”

Lacie scoffed and joined the table. “At least you don’t have Mr. Drew ask’n for progress reports every hour. Can’t do a lick of work with him breathin’ down my neck.”

“Joey’s just been having a weird day,” Susie said calmly. Another unnamed employee offered Susie a drink that she politely declined.

“Yeah, but it was creepy,” Shawn said.

“And annoy’n” Lacie added while Sammy nodded.

“If ya wanna talk creepy—“ Wally walked into the break room, mop clasped in an iron hold. “Get this: Henry’s not here.”

All movement in the room stopped. Everyone stared at Wally, before Sammy broke the silence with a snort.

“Very funny, Franks.”

“No, I wish I was that funny! He’s really not here.”

“What are you talk’n about, Wally, that man’s always here,” Lacie replied. “It’s a wonder he ever leaves.”

“Oh yeah? I can prove it!”

“Oh here we go.”

Wally stuck his tongue at Sammy and said, “Just look.” He marched over to the cabinet. With a grand wave of the hand, he threw open the door. It swung open with a clatter. It almost rattled shut, but Wally caught it. He gestured toward the top shelf.

Everyone became quiet.

Susie, hesitant, slowly rose from her chair. Her heels clicked loudly along the hardwood floor as she walked. She almost wavered before reaching for the item on the shelf, and she examined it as though it was a cursed, foreign object.

With wide eyes, she looked at the group, and held up the item. “It’s…it’s Henry’s mug.”

A chair shrieked, and Sammy was at her side in a flash. He snatched the mug from her hands. After a solid five minutes of scrutiny… “Holy shit, it’s clean.”

“Yeah, and so’s his desk,” Wally said, a smug grin on his face. “See for yourself.”

One of the unnamed employees ran out of the room and down the hall. After a tense minute, the remaining group heard the guy scream, “OH MY GOD!”

In record time, the entire studio was uncomfortably aware that Henry Batim was not at work today, and Joey definitely had not scheduled a week off for him. Some checked their calendars and annoyed the secretary three or four times just to be sure. The animators were harassed, but not one of them could explain this phenomenon away. The gossipers got more incredulous as this sick game of telephone circulated.

Some even say that Grant Cohen stepped out of his office to ask around himself.

The members of the main crew who were still gathered in the break room stared at one another, in disbelief, worry hanging over their heads like a dark, stormy cloud.  

“Should…” Susie began, “Should someone call his house to check on him?”

No one moved.

“I’ve tried a coupla times already.” Wally shook his head, leaning heavily on his mop. He made the cut-throat motion with his hand. “Nada.”

“This is bullshit,” Sammy said, still staring at the mug.

“I’m telling ya, it’s a sign of the apocalypse. And you can bet that when the sky falls, I’m outta here.”

Bendy sat at Henry’s desk, trying not to fidget. He wanted to curl into a ball but didn’t dare when there were so many people in the next room. So many witnesses… When that one rando employee had run off screaming, Bendy felt his panic rise, but he stubbornly refused to move.

“He’s just a little late,” he mumbled. “Papa said so, so he must be.” He wrapped his arms around his legs. “He’s gotta be.”

“Bendy? Are you still here?” Bendy looked up to see Alice standing over him. Her hands were on her hips, but her frown was a concerned one. She got herself situated on the ground with him. “It’s been hours, Bendy.”

“I’m waiting for Henry.” He scowled and faced the wall.

Alice sighed. “This is getting ridiculous.” Bendy ignored her. “Haven’t you set up that ink bucket yet?” she asked.

Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

“I think there’s a slice of cake that Sammy hasn’t eaten yet,” Alice said. “It’s double layer. You could scrape off the icing in the middle and replace it with ink, no problem.”

Wonder how much longer it’ll take for Henry to come? Hopefully Papa Drew will give him a earful for all this trouble.

Alice hummed and then gasped. “What about that invisible ink? You annoyed Wally for hours about it yesterday.” She poked the back of his head. “Don’t you wanna try it?” she asked playfully.

“No.”

Alice recoiled. Although Bendy didn’t see it, a scowl formed on her face. If she was a colored toon, her face would have become boiling red. “Okay that does it.”

Faster than he could have thought possible—and, for a toon, that was saying something—Alice scooped him up and threw him over her shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down, Al! Alice!” He pounded his fists on her shoulder and squirmed like a drowning snake. “Lemme go, you jerk!”

“Bite me. I dare you,” she shot back. “We’re fixing this right now, or so help me—“ As soon as she passed by the stairs, she shouted, “BORIS! DRAG YOUR TAIL UP TO PAPA DREW’S OFFICE. NOW!”

By the time Alice toed their father’s office door open, Bendy gave up struggling in favor of making himself dead weight for his sister to lug around. Boris caught up to them, tail dragging and ears pressed to the back of his head. Alice ignored them both and marched inside.

“Papa?” Alice called as she came in. Joey looked up just in time to see Alice hold Bendy up by the arms. “This”—She gave Bendy a careful shake—“and this”—she used Bendy to gesture to Boris—“is a problem.” She then dropped Bendy like a sack of potatoes, and he yelped.

“What was that for!?”

Alice ignored him and marched over to the door. “Oh, and did I forget about this?”

She wrenched the door open, and if one listened carefully, they could hear the sound of someone screaming in the hallway about Henry’s empty desk. Her point made, she snapped the door closed and moved aside a seventh untouched cup of tea so she could place her hands on their father’s desk.

“Papa,” she asked softly, “where’s Henry?”

Joey was quiet for a minute there, the senseless scribbles on his papers long forgotten. He was an absolute mess. Although he’d begun the day no better or worse than any other day, his vest was now hanging on a chair while his sleeves were pushed back as far as possible (the ceiling fan was at its highest setting as well), and his bowtie hung loose. His hair looked like it’s been combed through with his fingers multiple times, and he kept tapping his pen against the blank paper at an obnoxiously rapid pace.

Tptptptptptptptptptptp

Joey took in a deep breath, the taps slowing. “Honestly, sweetie…I…I don’t know.” There was a moment allowed for it to sink in. “I don’t know…and it’s driving me crazy.”

Bendy and Boris jumped while Alice slid easily out of the way when their father suddenly stood to pace.

“I don’t know where he is, why he hasn’t come in, and he isn’t answering his phone—believe me, I couldn’t begin to recall how many times I—” He sucked in a deep breath. He rubbed his temples, brows furrowed, and let out a loud sigh.

Bendy and Boris exchanged worried looks. What could they do? Papa Drew was usually so calm and easy going. If things were this bad, then…what did that say about Henry being missing?

“Papa,” Alice said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it would be a good idea if you headed over to Henry’s house.”

Joey blinked, dumbfounded.

“It’s mayhem in here,” Alice said, flinging her arms in the air, “More than usual! Everything’s gone bananas because Henry’s not here. You need to check up on him.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Joey looked from one toon to the other. Bendy shuffled his feet, anxious. Boris’s eyes shone, worried and sad. Alice offered her father a confident nod. After a second, Joey slowly began to nod as well.

“You’re right,” he mumbled slowly. The toons jolted when Joey suddenly slapped his hands on the desk. “You are absolutely right.” He seemed to spring back to life as he went about gathering items around the office. He opened up his desk drawer and started rifling through his things as he rambled on, “You three go let the others know that I’ll be out for a bit. Oh where are my keys?”

Moving closer to his father, Boris scanned the desk, and his eyes eventually lit up. “Oh right there!” He pointed them out to Joey.

“Thank you!” Joey fished them out. “It shouldn’t take too long. Their house is about…eh, twenty minutes away—”

Alice offered Joey his vest. He slid into it as best he could, still rambling, “I’ll call to let you all know what’s going on, so stay by the phone, and I’ll—“

Prrrrrrrring Prrrrring!

Joey and the toons jumped when the ringing began.

Prrrrring!

Speak of the devil.

Prrrrring!

The four all looked at each other, and then they looked at the phone vibrating on the wall. Joey practically charged after the phone, the toons skittering behind him. He snatched the phone off its cradle and pressed it into his ear so fast, he was almost certain he’d snap the chord.

“Henry!?” he asked immediately. His heart was pounding as he waited to hear an answer.

“Joey—”

Oh thank GOD! “Oh my GOODNESS,” he cried, relief flooding his veins. His boy’s voice was the greatest thing he’d heard all day. The toons looked at one another, eyes alight.

“Where on earth are you??” Joey demanded, “Are you OKAY!? Do you even know how late you are!?”

Did Joey even know how late it was!? When was the last time he looked at a clock? “I have been worried sick all day—”

“Joey.”

Joey had half a mind to tell Henry to not Joey him young man, but he was already on a roll. “I was about ready to come check in on you two.”

The toons were trying to listen to Henry’s end of the line, but clearly they knew better than to get close while Joey’s voice was starting to rise.

“I mean, you NEVER just NOT COME IN without some kind of call prior—”

—And nothing short of death would usually stop Henry from coming i—Oh god. Dianne. The baby!

“E-even if you couldn’t, then Diane would—”

But she didn’t. Oh god. Oh god!

“And yet, WHAT ON—“

“JOEY!”

“WHAT!?”

From the other end of the line, Joey could hear Henry take in a deep breath. When he spoke again, Henry’s voice was soft, almost in reverent disbelief. Quietly, he said, “You’re a grandfather, Joey.”

His panic jerked to an abrupt halt, and it took him a moment for the words to register. The toons became nervous when Joey didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Joey could only imagine the grand smile spreading across Henry’s face. It took a second for him to realize that his own lips were pulling into a small smile.

“…Really?!”

((Aaaand then Grandpa Drew runs out of the studio and leaves his kids to explain what the heck just happened. It takes a bit for everyone to calm the frick down. Joey might have forgotten his wallet.

 Happy Birthday, Ben. Welcome to the nuthouse—I mean family

—Tenchiko))

[nightingaledarling]

FIC: My Kind’s Your Kind

Fandom: Samurai Love Ballad Party Timeline/Continuity: Modern AU Pairing: Maeda Toshiie/MC (unnamed) Genre: Angst, but does it really count as angst since you know they get together later?? Probably. Oops. So much for ‘I will never write Puppy angst!’ Word Count: ~1800 Rating: PG-13 Notes: Let’s play “guess the character this description alludes to,” lol. This goes before “Like I Need You Then” in the Nostalgia ‘verse.

@hajeema​ @han-pan​ @stars-over-omori​ @kawa-akarin​ @all-my-cuffs-have-buttons​ @saizoswifey @pseudofaux @sengokugenkigirl

And anyone else who expressed interest in the rest of this series. Thanks for your beautiful comments on the previous work, loves! Y’all have been so great with putting out quality content that I was inspired to finish this one off. I have about three more planned. If you would like to go sans tag in the future, please let me know!

“What if I was your boyfriend?”

His phone buzzes with a text reading ‘SOS’ and he’s off like a shot, striding toward the bar with purpose.

The dim lights and throngs of people at various levels of inebriation make movement more difficult than it should be, but he sees her instantly. She’s got her arms crossed tightly in front of her, phone clutched in a white-knuckle grip. Her smile is so fake it’s painful to look at, and her upper body is leaning away as far as she can get from the creeper who’s leaning into her space. The man’s got a bit of a heavier build, his balding head slick with sweat from the body heat inside the building. Neither of these do much to detract from the man’s slimy, leery gaze.

What was the phrase again? ‘It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye’?

Toshiie pushes forward and steps right in between the two, thumping his hand down on the bar top for good measure as he turns his back to the creeper and looks down at his friend.

“Hey Gorgeous,” he says, the pet name rolling off his tongue as naturally as if he were saying her name instead. “Was wondering where you went.”

The relief ebbing from her is almost palpable, her eyes warm with a silent thank-you. She uncrosses her arms and lifts a hand to rest on his bicep. “Just wanted another drink. Thanks, Babe.”

An internal shiver goes through him when he hears that. But before he can enjoy it much, the man behind him clears his throat rather loudly.

Toshiie turns. He makes a show of cracking his knuckles with an impressive pop. “Sorry bro, did you have something you want to say to my girlfriend?”

The color drains from the man’s face at the gesture, and he shakes his head, spluttering his words out, “N-no! Nevermind!” He makes a hasty retreat, tripping over himself on the way.

Her hand drops from Toshiie’s arm, and he immediately misses the touch.

“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “He wouldn’t go away.”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Perks of having a guy friend. But I still think you should’ve been born ugly, because you probably wouldn’t have this ongoing problem of creeps hitting on you in bars.”

“I’m gonna ignore your implication that the creep problem is my fault. You realize you basically just called me pretty, right?”

...He walked right into that one. “Well, it’s not like it’s a secret,” he huffs, looking away. “You are. Pretty, I mean.”

When he glances back at her, she’s trying hard to fight back a laugh. “Careful. Don’t strain something trying to compliment me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Quit while you’re ahead.” He inclines his head toward the bar’s entrance. “Feel like getting out of here?”

“Sure. Let’s just go find Umeko and…” Her eyes roam the interior before stopping by the pool tables, and she giggles.

Toshiie follows her line of sight to see Umeko and her boyfriend pressed up against the wall in a rather compromising position.

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Maybe just text her that we went ahead.”

“Yeah.” She taps out a message on her phone. He takes the opportunity to send off a quick good night text to Sayuri too, and together they head to the door.

The cold air outside is a shock straight to their bones. It’s more instinct than conscious thought when he pulls her to his side so she can share the warmth of his jacket. It’s probably just as automatic for her to huddle into him and loop an arm around his back to get even closer.

“If I wasn’t sober before, I am now,” she laughs, her breath coming out in tiny pale puffs.

Another gust slams into their skin, and Toshiie shudders.

The bar is about a fifteen minute walk from their apartment. At such close distance, it’s kind of stupid to get a taxi or rideshare. On the other hand, he really isn’t interested in dying from the biting cold, despite knowing that his body does tend to run on the warmer side.

“Just pretend you’re in Hawaii,” she says suddenly.

Briefly he wonders if she can read minds. But he probably shouldn’t be surprised; they’ve always been so in sync with each other. “By myself? That’s sad.”

“Not by yourself,” she huffs. “Pretend that you’re on your honeymoon or something. I don’t know.”

“If I was on my honeymoon, I’d rather it not be with you,” Toshiie deadpans, only to wince when she thumps him in the flank with the side of her fist.

“That goes double for me, jackass.” There’s no malice in her words, just a fond teasing that only she can get away with.

He smiles, first taking it at face value, but then he starts to think.

From acting as her boyfriend at the bar to cuddling her to ward off the chill to joking about honeymoons - it’s not Toshiie’s first time for any of these. For almost anyone else, those actions would be a surefire indicator of romance, but for the two of them, it’s just out of familiarity and having been so comfortable with each other for so long that they can get away with it.

It’s no wonder that people always assume they’re dating.

He won’t lie. That what-if question had hovered in the back of his mind since their early teens when she started developing noticeably different body parts than him, but he never really gave it much thought until they entered high school.

Even then, the what-if was only a transient thought between relationships.

She’d been with her first love for a good year. When they ultimately called it quits, she’d said something about how he was kind-hearted and ideal but just a little too proper, and Toshiie had wondered, ‘what if it were me?’ for a minute before leaving the thought alone and treating her to a junk food day.

He had a similar thought when he became the unwilling owner of a broken nose in their senior year for sleeping with an underclassman who turned out to be the class president’s younger sister. When the president wrung out his fist and went on with his day, Toshiie had thought, ‘this wouldn’t have been a problem if it were her’ before stumbling away to the nurse’s office.

So the concept of dating his closest friend was always a fanciful idea, an abstract notion that he’d considered but never actually thought to be within the realm of possibility.

At least, not until they moved in together.

Now that they’re under one roof, their relationship has changed - solidified, almost. There’s something about their involvement in each other’s lives that can’t really be touched, no matter how many blind dates she goes on, no matter how far he gets with Sayuri.

Because now, things like cooking together and movie marathons on the couch and sharing a beer on the balcony are a little less hangout-ish and a whole lot more domestic. She makes him scrub the toilet on Sundays, but in return he makes her take out the trash. He’ll be at the store debating between his favored laundry detergent scent of spring blossom and her favored lavender fields and decide to go with the latter, only because the former gives her a headache.

He thinks about how these exchanges are probably much more common with couples - couples who live together, to be specific.

The fact that they have a joint bank account specifically for rent and utilities is just the icing on the cake.

That what-if question… it’s not such a farfetched idea anymore.

He doesn’t have much more time to think about it, because somehow, in all his contemplation, they’ve already reached the apartment. She ushers him inside, shutting the door and the cold behind them. But he doesn’t want to lose this closeness. Not yet.

He holds her fast, one hand to the back of her head, another to her shoulder blades. Her keys clatter to the floor in her surprise.

“Toshiie? What’s wrong?”

It could be real.

“...What if I was your boyfriend?”

She stiffens in his arms, then relaxes, breathing out a laugh. “You might as well be, for all the time we spend together.”

“I’m serious.” Toshiie draws back a little, leveling his gaze to hers. He can see the mirth and jest in her eyes slowly dim, dim, then vanish at the gravity of his tone.

She swallows, closing her eyes for a long beat and then opening them again, wearily focusing on him. “I guess…” she begins in a whisper, and although he can hear her perfectly in the stillness of their apartment, he leans in close anyway. “We just never tried to be anything more.”

“Why didn’t we try?” He murmurs.

She shrugs helplessly. “Didn’t make sense to?”

“Really?” Toshiie lets out a low, self-deprecating chuckle. “Cause sometimes, I swear - you’re the only thing that does make sense to me.”

There would be no interview time, no break-in period. He already knows that it takes five alarms to wake her up in the morning, and she already knows that Thursday is his back and biceps day at the gym. He already knows that she seasons all her food with an atrocious amount of hot sauce because ‘it’s not a meal without it, Toshiie,’ and she already knows that he bought a motorcycle because he can’t be bothered to operate on bus schedules. He already knows that she’ll cry at the drop of a hat when she gets angry, and she already knows that it’s best to leave him alone for a day or two when he’s feeling down.

She gets him, just like he gets her.

It could be real.

Her eyes flutter closed, slow and arresting, but before he can inch forward, she mumbles a single name -

“Sayuri.”

And it feels like someone’s dumped ice water over his head. He takes a step back. Just one step, but it might as well be a mile.

Sayuri, who’s out of town for a friend’s birthday and probably missing him. Sayuri, who’s kind and selfless and likes him and trusts him.

Sayuri, who he swore he’d give it a shot with, no matter how on-again off-again they’ve been lately.

He says nothing, just lets his hands fall to the side. In measured movements, she crouches down, picks up her keys and puts them in her pocket. She can’t seem to meet his eyes, not that he can blame her.

“It’s getting late,” she says, voice small and resigned, and she retreats to her room.

The sound of her door closing echoes into the foyer. Toshiie slumps against the wall with a sigh, raking a hand through his hair.

It could be so, so real.

But not now.

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist: Home Sweet Home (Part 3)

Part 3 of the translation. Come watch tiny Rin be adorably incompetent at caring for the sick!

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Part 3

I’ve been given a really important mission…

As he watched his father leave, Rin’s heart was pounding with excitement. He balled his hands into fists in front of his chest.

Normally, even for simple errands, Yukio would be handed the money and the shopping list, because “If I give them to you, Rin, you’ll buy things we don’t need.” It was totally unfair treatment and it hurt Rin’s pride as the big brother.

This was the first big job he had ever been trusted with. There was no way he wouldn’t give it his all.

Okay, this is my chance to clean my name, he decided, with a half-learned grownup-sounding phrase in his heart. If his father had been there, he probably would have said “You mean clear your name. What good would it do to clean it?”

Rin looked over at his brother and the monks, all of them red-faced and completely wiped out, and tried to remember what his father usually did when Yukio had a fever.

He was pretty sure his dad soaked a cloth in ice water and put it on Yukio’s forehead. When he did that, Yukio’s fever would go down so fast you could almost see it. That cloth was magic.

“First, I have to cool down their heads.”

Rin headed for the monastery’s kitchen. He looked around for a big bowl to put some cold water in, but he could only find small ones, so he grabbed a handy bucket that was sitting right there. He filled it up with cold water.

“Ice, Ice…” He picked up the heavy bucket in both hands and dragged it over to the refrigerator.

The all-male household had an industrial fridge. It had a lot of years under its belt, and it constantly made a low noise and vibrated. The noise was especially bad at night, almost like the fridge was moaning.

Yukio had been deathly afraid of the noise all the way up until they entered kindergarten.

Yukio was afraid of everything. Until just recently, he hadn’t even been able to walk to the bathroom by himself—he said there were ghosts and demons hiding in the darkness.

“I have to protect Yukio. I’m his big brother,” Rin said to himself, a dutiful look on his face. He stared up at the towering refrigerator.

The old-style fridge didn’t have a freezer drawer—the freezer was way up above his head. Poor short Rin had to get a chair, stand on top of it, and stretch as far as he could just to open the freezer door.

When Rin pulled on the handle, a rush of cold air whooshed past his nose. He winced at the cold, but he didn’t let it stop him from dropping the ice into the bucket from way up on the chair. A lot of water splashed onto the floor around him when he did that, but at least he had his ice water.

The bucket was even heavier now. He lugged it over to the bathroom with both hands. The towels were too thick for him to ring out, so instead he grabbed five thin rags that had been placed on the windowsill to keep the condensation from collecting there. He tossed them into the bucket.

The bucket was so heavy now that he was whispering “heave-ho” to himself as he carried it, and he stopped to take a break in the middle of the hallway.

“Being a doctor is hard,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

But he looked a lot happier than those words would seem to suggest.

“Ugh…mmmph…”

Yukio had been tossing and turning with the fever when he felt something cool on his forehead.

The coolness felt good on his feverish face. But for some reason there was also an unnamable smell, sort of like mildew and sort of like sour milk.

Frankly, it stank.

Yukio opened his eyes and saw his twin brother’s face. He blinked blearily.

“? Nii-san?”

“Oh, Yukio. Are you awake?”

Rin grinned. When he pulled his hands away from Yukio’s forehead, his fingertips looked red with cold.

“How is it? The cold feels good, right?”

“Huh? Y-Yeah…”

Yukio nodded, trying to endure the smell. He turned his eyes upward to look at his own forehead, and saw an old rag. It was obviously the source of the stench.

No wonder it stinks…

Even worse, when he looked off to the side there was a bucket sitting there for some reason. Yukio was pretty sure it was the bucket they threw away kitchen scraps in.

But Rin looked really proud of himself, and Yukio couldn’t quite bring himself to give his honest opinion.

Yukio turned to his brother and gave him a (slightly forced) smile.

“Thanks…Nii-san…”

But it probably would’ve been better if it wasn’t a dirty rag, he added in his mind.

“Heh heh heh. No problem.”

Rin scratched the bottom of his nose, happy at his brother’s words of gratitude, and then went around to put dirty rags on his other four patients.

“Ugh…urrrrrgh…mmpf…ghh…urk…”

A pained whimper escaped the lips of Maruta, who was sleeping next to Yukio. Looking at his tortured sleeping face, Yukio felt sorry for him.

Izumi, Kyoudou, and Nagatomo seemed to be awake and struggling with the same dilemma as Yukio.

“Rin…thank you. You’ve done more than enough—you should go watch TV or something. Right, that battle anime you like! Isn’t that on right now?”

Nagatomo made a valiant attempt to get Rin to stop of his own accord, but—

“I can’t! Taking care of you guys is my mission, so I don’t have time to watch TV!”

Rin flatly refused him with uncharacteristic earnestness; he dashed out of the room, out of breath, saying “Okay, next is…” He was like a tiny runaway train. He had no brakes, and he would just keep going until he ran out of steam.

“’Next’? What’s he planning now?”

“So…I guess it’d be bad if we took these things off of our heads?”

“I…guess…urgh, it stinks…”

They all lay in their sickbeds trembling with fear until Rin returned some ten or fifteen minutes later. For some reason, he was carrying five leeks and a brown jar. He had, tucked under his right arm, a book of home remedies that his father the doctor had bought at a used bookstore in the True Cross Shopping District.

Home remedies—it was more like a book of superstitions. One time Yukio had looked over his father’s shoulder at a page that said to “apply a well-cooked leek to the affected area” as a treatment for hemorrhoids.

Yukio had a bad feeling. In fact, he had nothing but bad feelings.

Nagatomo, Kyoudou, and Izumi had sensed danger too. They pulled their heads under the covers like baby turtles and started dramatically pretending to sleep. The sounds of high-pitched fake snoring echoed from each of their futons.

Yukio was about to join them, but he was too slow—his brother was already crouched down next to his futon.

Rin set his bundle of leeks down on the floor and took a bright red pickled plum out of the jar. It was a big one, and so bright that Yukio could almost taste how sour it was just looking at the color. The bits of purple-red shiso leaves stuck to it only accentuated the sourness.

Yukio’s mouth folded into a pucker automatically. Rin’s mouth was doing the same as he held the plum.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Yukio. It said if I wrap a leek around your neck and stick this pickled plum on your forehead, your cold will get better super fast! Pretty amazing, huh?

“Y-yeah, that’s amazing. But don’t worry about it, Nii-san. I’m actually already feeling better.”

Yukio shook his head side to side.

But that kind of indirect refusal would never get through to his brother. Rin, wearing a completely flawless innocent smile, just said “Don’t be shy!” and wrapped a leek around Yukio’s neck. He’d even gotten a cooked leek. The outer layer stuck right to Yukio’s skin.

“Urk…” Yukio squawked like a frog again as the leek tightened around his neck.

Next, Rin went to stick the pickled plum to Yukio’s forehead, but his hand stopped in midair. He frowned and went “hmmm,” his momentum fading.

Now that the leek had been added to the sour milk smell, Yukio had given up on breathing through his nose and switched to his mouth—though it still smelled a little even then. But he noticed his brother acting strange. And even with the fever and the awful smell, he was smart enough to know why right away.

There was no room.

I get it. The rag is already taking up my whole forehead.

Rin wouldn’t have a spot to put the plum on. Yukio breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that he might at least get the rag taken off. The pickled plum would be better than the rag. At least it wouldn’t stink.

“Nii-sa—“

“I know!”

But of course, his brother had to be maddeningly clever just this one time.

Rin’s face lit up and he snapped his fingers—unsuccessfully. He folded up the rag smaller and set it right in the middle of Yukio’s forehead, with a pickled plum on either side.

“Good!” he said, exhaling contentedly.

What do you mean good? Nothing about this is good, Yukio would have thought, had he been maybe ten years older. As it was, he was still young and innocent, and all he did was look terribly sad.

“You sleep tight, okay?”

“…”

Poor Yukio just nodded silently at Rin’s big-brother attitude.

He had been sleeping—maybe not too comfortably, but sleeping nonetheless—before his brother came and put a dirty rag on his forehead. But now he couldn’t sleep if he tried, not while he was being tortured like this.

Meanwhile, the three adults who had hurriedly pretended to sleep, plus Maruta who really was asleep, all had their futons forcibly yanked off so they could face the same fate as Yukio.

And then, to make things worse, Rin rolled up his sleeves and said “Okay, what should I do next?”

The monks paled.

“Please, please just sit still!”

“That’ll help us rest the most (mentally)!”

“I’m begging you, Rin! Have mercy!”

“Dad gave me a mission. I have to take good care of you!” Rin declared, shrill and defensive. He yelled “Ou!” to pump himself up and dashed out of the room. Everyone sighed deeply in their futons. They looked even more worn out than they had that morning.

In the following hours, the patients in their beds were assaulted by all sorts of trials and tribulations. All the windows were opened wide to the freezing cold, turning the whole room into an icebox. They each had to take their medicine with a suspicious cup of hot water that seemed to have dandelions from the yard floating in it. Beethoven’s ninth symphony was blasted at full volume, on the theory that “clasicle” music (Rin couldn’t spell “classical”) was good for colds. Their mouths were stuffed full of jaw-bendingly sour mikans…

But they didn’t resent Rin, who was a little ball of good intentions and responsibility. No, all their resentment was pointed squarely at Shirou, for telling him all this good-for-nothing information for fun.

“…Let’s slip something Fujimoto-sensei hates into his bowl at every meal.”

“Oden is off the menu for the rest of the year! And don’t even think about daikon!”

“I’m going to hang his futon out to dry in the shade from now on.”

“Fill his hot water bottle with cold water!”

The grown men were getting all wrapped up in planning their childish revenge. Yukio didn’t even have the strength left to try to defend his father. All he could do was endure the stench, which was growing worse by the minute, and the plums, which tumbled annoyingly off of his forehead every time he moved a muscle.

His father’s smiling face flashed across his mind. Even though he hadn’t been away for long. Even though he had Rin and everyone else right by his side…

Maybe the cold had weakened him mentally too?

I wish I could have some of Dad’s hot ojiya… he thought, keeping it to himself so as not to worry everyone.

He closed his eyes, and the darkness he hated so much closed in. The dark world where demons lurked. And all he could do was be scared, so scared…

Hot tears started to well up in the corners of his eyes.

He felt like a weak pathetic crybaby next to his strong brother, and it made him sadder.

[Go to part 4]

[acashgirl]

Untitled Marvel Project: Part 2

Okay stick with me here! I love Peter Parker as much as the rest of you I’m just trying to set up this story. Hope you guys enjoy and catch you on the flippity flop!

(First) (Next) (Index)

Opening your eyes was much easier this time around. No longer were there restraints so you tried moving; many things cracked. The release you felt was amazing and finally you felt like you could move again! Beginning to look around you could finally see all the room: white walls and a large window to the left of you peering in. It had a tech board next to it presumably to control transparency as there were no blinds. There were no lights in the room itself apart from the monitors whose light reflected off the bright white and illuminated the entire room. To the right of  you was a large automated door and at the foot of the table you resided on were three unlabeled machines. You sat up a bit releasing more joint tension. “You are awake, would you like to know the time?” a resounding female voice said. “You’re the voice from yesterday… What are you called?” “I am Friday, assistant to Mr. Tony Stark and the residing Avengers.” “Interesting… What can you tell me about me?” There was a pause. “Name unknown. Found on floor level of the building unconscious with low vitals at 2:23am July 7th 2017. On a support system for 3 days collecting brain and heart activity. MRI ran July 8th 2017 under request of Tony Stark. Found data conclusive of-” “Friday I do believe that is enough for our unnamed guest right now.” The door slide open and you look over to see Tony in the doorway. “What was she going to say?” You said sternly. “Nothing I haven’t already told you.” “And why should I believe you?” you spat out. “You don’t, but you don’t really have a choice now do you. I programmed Friday so I choose what she can and can not tell you.” You were in no place to argue, the validity of his statement was excessive. You were the stranger with a possibly deathly power and no recollection of anything. You let out a sigh. “What day is it?” “Last time I checked it was Tuesday, July err- 11th? 3 days unconscious that’s impressive.” You let out a light laugh “I guess that’s what happens when you crash through a building.” “I’ve done it before, I had better recoop.”   Still propped up on your elbows you realize trying to sit up would have to happen eventually plus the discomfort from the position was beginning to set in. Tony watched with mild concern as you pushed yourself into an upright position: More joints cracked. “Ow.” you mumbled. As you heaved your legs off the table Tony took a few steps back. Easing down your toes touched the cold floor and soon all your weight was on your feet. So far so good. Stepping forward carefully you could feel Tonys eyes burning into you, but you could also feel something burning into your back. As soon as you registered the feeling of being watched your supporting leg buckled and the floor quickly approached. Yet something caught you. Peering up you see Tonys concerned face and his arm gripped around your waist. “Lets not break anything else okay?” You laugh and nod in agreeance while he gently pulls you up to your feet. “Congratulations, your first steps had an audience.” He was looking past you now towards the large window.   You then remembered the burn in you had felt that wasn’t from Tony and turned around. Three guys stood staring in, one of which was Bruce Banner, the other two you had never seen. The man in the middle was tall with broad shoulders and large biceps, his face was stern and held concerned eyes burned into your face. Staring back at him he broke contact for a moment and turned towards Bruce mumbling something. You looked back into the room before focusing on the third guy. He was smaller than both of them but definitely taller than you by a few inches. He was filled out for his slender shaped body and had some ruffled curly hair. His face on the surface also held concern but you could see past that, his eyes holding curiosity like when you see someone on the street and feel drawn to them. “Great,” you sighed “I’m the residential freak show.” “Well technically we all are,” Tony raised his voice “Especially you Cap!” Glancing back over you see the middle man shake his head in disapproval and walk away. Bruce and the slender one followed with their heads with Bruce trailed behind soon after while the other bit his lip in apprehension. He looked back at you two with a more relaxed face and gently waved with a small smile before he turned and followed. The act made you smile, being the stranger in the building he still showed you kindness making you feel more human. “That’s uh- that’s Peter.” “Peter?” You asked still looking out the window. Tony exhaled and you turned your attention back towards him. “The newest member. Talented kid, decent hero, pretty smart.” “What kind of hero is he?” He slowly placed a hand on your shoulder “A superhero.” You looked down at your feet and smirked, what other answer were you expecting? Sighing deeply another thought smacked you in the face “Where are my clothes?” “Excuse me?” Tony was obviously confused by the quick change of subject. “My clothes, I wasn’t wearing this stuff when I was plummeting to the earth. I had pants.” Staring down at your bare legs. “You’re under the assumption they survived?” A horrified look crossed your face “What do you mean? I wasn’t-” “Stark ass naked?” He laughed “No pun intended. No not entirely, there were bits and pieces but nothing 100%.” “What does that mean!” “I know a little more than I need to about you.” Your eyes widened “Oh my gosh!” “Hey! No no no, it’s okay calm down!” He grabbed your shoulders “Don’t stress yourself, it’s fine you’re fine!” You took a few deep breaths and steadied your heart rate, slowly relaxing “It’s just…” “I get it, it’s weird.” “Yeah… So what now?” He sighed “First off, your name.” Oh shit, your name, what was your name? “I- I don’t remember.” You felt your eyes beginning to fog. “It’s okay, remember heart rate!” he ushered “It’ll come back eventually. Do you remember anything?” “N-no” you hung down your head. “Alright you’re going to stay here for awhile, but listen, your scan still showed an abnormality and you not remembering anything about yourself doesn’t put you in the clear. I need to keep my team safe.” His face came back into your view “What does that mean?” “The room you’re going to be in will be monitored, and for the first few days I think it’d be better to close off that wing-” “Like a prisoner?” “You need to understand until we figure out-” “Fine.” Your words were cold and direct “Take me there.” Tony nodded and sighed “We’ll walk slowly.”   With Tonys help you walked down the hall to a near seamless door that slid open to reveal your new room. It was dimmer with overhead lights and white walls that held a similar window to the right of the door but this one lacked a tech pad. A simple bed was nestled in the corner below the window and a small desk was a bit past the foot. The floor was stretched in a creamy color carpet that felt thick and soft under your bare feet. The room was open, simple, and easily observable. You felt a sense if unease with the whole room but you understood the whole reason. You couldn’t even remember your name, you fell from the sky for an unknown reason, tests prove something is off about you; all the precautionary measures made sense. “I smell fear.” Tony said behind you. “I don’t know why, this room is very private and comfortable.” He chuckled “The puppy delivery was postponed, someone bought out all of them for some movie about Dalmations, so sorry.” You had to let out a laugh, it eased you up a bit. “So is the window always going to be open?” He drew his attention over there “Well for observational purposes I’d like it to but I suppose if you really get self conscious Friday could shadow it down for you.” “That’s decently fair I suppose.” You smirked. “Bathroom is down the hall, it’ll probably be the only other room open.” You looked back at him and nodded pulling your lips into a tight smile. “Well,” he let out a sigh “get settled in I suppose. You have so much to unpack.” He lightly patted your shoulder, turned on his heel and left.   You wondered to the middle of the room and laid on the floor which swelled around you nestling you into the plush. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t you remember, try to understand yourself. Your name… Honestly your name? Nothing was making sense. Eyes close, deep breath. The plane, reflect on the plane. With all the space it had to be a carrier for freight but instead you were alone. Why would you willingly stay put? The door opened and… now you’re here. But why here, why the Avengers. You could of died yet someone knew you wouldn’t. There had to be a purpose it’d be impossible to not have one. And your brain, the scan, telekinesis? You can’t… how could you… now wonder you’re a possible threat. Eyes open. “I’m a monster who doesn’t know why they’re scary.” “You are only a monster if you do harm.” Your head never whipped up so quick and yes it hurt. “Son of a bitch.” You crane your neck. There was someone in your room but they were not human. Standing there was a tall red robotic being clad in mens clothing. The visible parts of its body were covered in seemingly metal sheets and placed in the middle of its near emotionless face was a stone that shined with an amber sheen. “Who are you!?” You quickly got up. “I am Vision” he was intently watching you. “What are you?” lashed out of your mouth. “I do not know. I came about for all the wrong reasons so I strive to do good. I am a vision given life by a God.” “You’re named after your inspiration?” He furrowed what would be his brow “I suppose so. And what are you named?” “You come into my room unannounced and expect me to introduce myself?” “Oh that, yes I have a habit of not using doors as they seem insufficient. Also you were lying on the floor which was cause for concern.” “You eavesdropped and trespassed.” “I answered a question.” “It was rhetorical nor was it phrased as a question.” “It was distressing. You do not seem as a monster.” Your face finally began to soften, this being did not seem to be judging you, instead wanting to help you even with no understanding of who you were. Yes the trespassing was off-putting and a bit concerning but the compassion he was trying to emote was real. “Why are you trying to know me, I am no one.” “If you are a being you are someone.” “My brain leads me to believe otherwise.” “Your brain is confused, lost in itself. With time it will heal and expand back to it’s proper self and perhaps even beyond that.” You looked down at your feet and were struck with a feeling.                       “What if… what if it never does?”

A hard stare burned into your downturned face, you knew what you said was so empty so hopeless. You wanted to give up. Your brain doesn’t even remember your purpose in life, so what was there to live for? You’re basically a prisoner to a bunch of superheroes. “Please be reasonable, I feel your desperation. If you live your life in fear and sorrow no one can reach you.” Looking up you saw true concern. He was being honest and it was resonating deep. “I just..,” your eyes began to swell “I can’t remember. What if my life was worth everything? What if it was amazing and then this? I don’t even know why I’m different but I just know I am.” Vision slowly approached you and extended his hand until it grasped the space above your elbow. “I believe in the possibility of fate. And even if it is not positive it is what needs to be done.” A small tear escaped your vision. “I do not want to overstay my welcome or lack there of, so perhaps I should be going.” Part of you didn’t want him to leave but you also wanted to ponder and explore the reaches of your mind. He released his soft grip and turned to leave. “I- I appreciate your existence.” You look up at his turned body as he glanced over his tall shoulder. “And soon we will all appreciate yours.” As a small smile escaped his blank expression, turning and vanishing through the wall. Right, not using doors. Wonder if that affects the structure: something sparked. The structure, the atomic make up. Passing through, dissipating yourself to such molecular amount that you could go freely not disturbing the rest of the atoms. But how could matter pass through such? Even a gas cannot leak through a solid wall yet you just witnessed a being go through one with no damage on either end. Why was this striking you so much? Maybe you enjoyed science before the accident. “Ma’am, Mr.Stark would like to now if you are hungry.” You snap back to your new reality “Oh, oh yes Friday I am.” “I will relay the message.” “Thank you Friday.”   Wondering over to your bed you wonder if you want to lie down since you had been asleep for 3 days, so you just sit on it. Unsurprisingly it was extremely comfortable. Although the bedding was a plain navy blue it seemed of great quality and felt smooth under your palms. It was oddly elastic and quickly retuned to its flat state as you bunched it up in your hand. The door slid open. “You know that’s not how people usually play in bed.” Letting out a laugh you look over to see Tony with a platter of food, you’d say a tray but that’d be insulting his class. “I’ll do me you do you.” “That’s what I have Pepper for.” You recognized that name, Stark’s girlfriend or fiance or something. “Oh I bet she’d appreciate that comment.” “The less she knows the better our relationship.” He smiles confidently. “You know I’d assume you’d have people to bring prisoners food, you’re worth to much.” “Well unfortunately my people skills are inadequate, why else would I have a computer for an assistant?” “Damn good point Stark. So what’d ya bring me?” “Lucky for you we feed our, what did you say? Oh prisoners very well. Carbonara and garlic bread, hopefully you don’t have an allergy. I’d offer you wine but if you don’t know your name you sure as hell don’t know your age.” “I guess I can confidently agree with that.” You reply as he hands you the platter “I assume I don’t get any company?” “Well we’re booked pretty solid saving the world along with keeping up the billionaire status to keep us afloat.” “I just assumed superheroes would be served a sort of compensation.” “One would hope so, but why give money to the rich? Would that make us a charity case?” He looked at you pleased with himself. “If superheroes are the new charity cases what does that make me?” “For once… I don’t have an answer.” Your hand hit your chest and eyes widened with shock “What, you!? I think I’m dying.” “Okay stop that,” he began slapping your hand away “it’s been a rough few days.” “Oh gee I wouldn’t know how that feels.” A smirk crossed your face. He sighs and a smile appears “You ever threw an atomic bomb into a wormhole?” “Am I in the state of remembrance if I did?” “Dammit,” he slapped his thigh and brings a knuckle to his face “you’re right. I can’t undermine you when you don’t remember.” You laugh some more and turn to him “No company is fine, just don’t make it a habit.” You say smiling. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem, one superhero won’t shut up with the questions. He lives up to his name, partially at least.” You scowled “Who is that?” “No one,” he sighed “Just a pest.”

[lolainblue]

Thunderbirds    Chapter 19

 T/W:  I wrote it, so there’s language and references to people touching other people’s bathing suit zones. And drinking.

      “Wake the fuck up Shan.”

      Jared gave the end of the bed a hard kick and I started to think I was stuck in the worst Groundhog's Day ever.  But this time there was no doubt about whether I had sobered up yet; I was still thoroughly drunk. After the shower, trying to sleep off the whiskey and the shitty day, I had passed out in my boxers.  Judging by the state of my head that hadn't been that long ago. I stuck my head under the pillow and was about to tell Jared to get lost when I heard a giggle. Fucking hell.  I was blind drunk and in my underwear and there were obviously people in the room. I grabbed a pillow and pulled it into my lap as I sat up.

  “What the fuck Jared.  Haven't you done enough damage for one day?”  He was standing next to my bed with two pretty women who were probably even drunker than I was. There was a brunette in tight jeans and a cut-off t-shirt and a blonde in a skintight blue dress. They were hanging on him and giggling, and all three of them seemed to be swaying just a little bit.  I wasn't sure if that was my head or if was them.  

   “Is this him?” the brunette asked.  “He's hot.”

  “This is him,” Jared answered, and that time I'd swear he was actually swaying.  “Girls, meet my brother Shannon.  Shannon, this is Amy,” he said, gesturing to the brunette “And, uh....” He paused while looking at the blonde.  She just kept giggling and waited for him to remember her name.  “Kristin? No Kirstin!” he finally said triumphantly.

  Kirstin sat down on the bed next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Jared told us all about what that awful girl did to you,” she said, running her hand up and down my arm. I wonder what that story looked like when Jared told it. I gave him a nasty look but he just shrugged it off.    “So, we came to help cheer you up.”

   Amy sat down on my other side and kissed my shoulder.  Oh for fuck's sake. I tried to clear my head. I knew this was just piling one bad decision on top of another, but that was easy to do when bad decisions got delivered to you like room service. I turned to tell Kirstin that maybe this wasn't the best night, but just like that someone's tongue was in my mouth and someone else's hand was in my boxers and I figured if I couldn't drink away the misery maybe I could fuck it away.  It wasn't like I could be unfaithful to a woman who was engaged to someone else right?  I dropped the pillow and grabbed hold of Kirstin, the one with her tongue down my throat.  As I pushed her back onto the bed I heard Jared close the door behind him.

   When I woke up again at least it wasn't to Jared kicking the fucking bed. But then again I was realizing I wasn't in a bed, I had passed out on the floor at some point and now had a mouthful of hotel carpet.  I sat up to see Amy and Kirsten balled up together on the bed.  The ringing in my head and the shitty way I felt on seeing them told me my little plan to distract myself had failed spectacularly.  I got up and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and get rid of the taste of whiskey and self-loathing.  Odd how often the two went together.  

   I woke the girls up and told them in no uncertain terms it was time to go.  They were too hungover themselves to protest much and soon I was locking the door behind them.  I climbed into the hot shower and stood there until my skin was almost raw, wishing I could just crash back into bed and sleep the day away.  But it was getting late, and it was a wonder no one had been to my room to get me up already.  We had interviews and sound checks scheduled and I needed to get something on my stomach.  I dressed and headed down to the hotel restaurant.

   The guys were already there, although it looked they had mostly finished eating. Their plates hadn't been cleared yet and there was a basket of biscuits sitting in the middle of the table.  I took one as I sat down and laid my head on the table while I waited for my coffee.

   “How was your night?” Jared asked with a snicker.  I didn't even bother acknowledging him.  He had his laptop out but was he was talking to Matt.  While I ate my biscuit I got an idea.

   As soon as I finished my coffee I grabbed Jared's laptop and headed to the small guest office facilities off the hotel lobby.  I hooked the laptop to their internet connection and opened a web search.  I had been feeling like I was two moves behind whatever chess game Jared and Jane were playing but it was time to catch up.  I entered Jane's name in the search bar.  

   Most of what came up was reviews for her new book (overwhelmingly positive, and from the little I had gotten through yesterday, well deserved) and references to some anthologies she had put together and published.  This was nice, but not helping.  With a little twist in my gut, I typed the word 'engaged' after her name and started a new search. Now I had his name: Angus McArdle.  One more search and a whole new picture emerged. No wonder Jane hadn't wanted to tell me about the guy.

   As far as I could tell, the whole “foreign correspondent” thing was just some sort of hobby.  Good ol' Angus was the son of some rich hoity-toity Australian family and from the looks of things his actual job was jetting about to private islands or showing up at fancy events in tuxedos with elegantly dressed women on his arm.  The term 'millionaire playboy' would not have been a stretch.  There were older pictures of him with a few models and some Aussie actress I had never heard of, but there were pictures of Jane there too. The older ones mostly referred to her as “unnamed female companion” or “unidentified lady friend” but the more recent ones identified her by name as his fiancee.  He was apparently quite the catch. Rich, handsome, well-educated, from a good family, and Jesus, how tall was this guy? I swear he looked like was about 6'3”.  He was like the anti-Shannon.  If this was what she was into now I was done for.

  Jared came into the office as I was scrolling past pictures of Mr. Perfect and Jane sunning themselves on a beach in Bali.  She had on the tiniest little black bikini and she looked amazing.  Even better than when I had known her in L.A..  But I guess she was quite the catch herself.  Even if she hadn't known it at the time, I had realized that first night that she was out of my league.  The years had just proven me right.

  “What the fuck are you doing bro?” Jared said from behind me.  I just kept scrolling.  Jared reached over and closed the laptop.  “Well, at least you see what you're dealing with now.  Left you pining away while she scrounged up a sugar daddy.”

    I really did not want to deal with more of Jared's bullshit today. “Really? That's what you took away from that?”

  “Joke will be on her the first time someone leaks pics of him and his mistress on that same beach,” Jared said disdainfully.  

   I whirled around in my seat.  “Okay man, what the hell is your deal with Jane all of the sudden? You haven't mentioned her name in probably a year, and now you're being all nasty about her.  Why do you even care? What is actually going on here?”

  “She's shown her true colors, Shannon." he said.

   “By getting married to a great guy?”

  “Yeah, I'm sure it's true love," he sneered.  "Couldn't possibly have anything to do with the expensive vacations or that huge rock he put on her finger or the house he's building her.  She'll do what it takes to get what she wants.  That should have been clear to you when she slept with you to get to me.  But for some reason, you don't see her for what she is.  I thought you'd come to your senses eventually but you're just as bad as ever.”

  “She's right.  You're still not over her picking me over you. I didn't think you even liked her that much.”

   “I am over it, it's not about that.  I didn't care about that two-faced little bitch then and I don't now.”

  “She's not who you think she is Jared.”

  “Maybe," he replied, "but she's definitely not who you think she is either.”

   I rubbed my hand over my face.  I was suddenly so tired of all of this. I just wanted to go back to two days ago when I was just fine with my fucked up life.  Better than fine. I was enjoying every minute of it.  Screw Jared and screw Jane.  I was done with all of this.

   Two weeks later I was asleep in my bunk when my phone rang.  Groggily I answered.

  “Shannon? I'm sorry if I woke you. It sounds like I woke you.”

  Shit. “Jane?” She was the last person I had expected to be calling me. I really didn't think I'd ever hear from her again. She must have kept my number when I called her the first time.

  “Yeah, it's Jane. How are you?” There was a pause on the line before she continued.  “I was hoping you would call again.”

    She was hoping I'd call again? After I made an ass of myself the last time and made her cry? “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?” she replied.  I could hear the confusion in her voice. It didn't slow me down any.

   “Why did you want me to call? Everything in your life is perfect. I'm just a speck of dust so far in the rearview mirror I'm surprised you still remember my name.”

  “What the hell, Shannon? Did you just wake up really bitchy? Because I remember our last conversation sounded a whole lot different.”

   What the fuck was I doing? She called you, Shannon.  She called you. Fucking talk to her.  “Yeah, maybe."  I took a deep breath and started again.  "What's up, Jane?”

   “I just wanted to talk to you.”  For the first time, I heard the tone of her voice.  She sounded tired and a little sad.  “Tell me what you're doing.”

   We were only a few sentences in but this whole conversation was giving me a weird feeling.  I didn't know what to tell her.  I couldn't imagine what she wanted.  So I just answered her question. “Sleeping.  I'm on the bus and I was sleeping.”

   “Oh. I'm sorry.”  She definitely sounded down.  I wondered what was actually going on.  “Should I let you go?”

   I peeked my head out of the curtain to see if it looked like anyone else was listening but I was the only one back in the bunk area. “No.  I'm up now.  It was just a nap. How are you?”

   She sighed.  “Exhausted.  This whole leg is really over scheduled and I'm not sleeping and I really need a day off.”

  Showing all the conversational finesse of a toddler I went straight for what I thought was her weakness.  “Why aren't you sleeping?”

  Silence. There was a lot of silence in my conversations with Jane, but I think more was said in those silences than the actual words. “Stress, I guess,” she finally answered but I think we both knew better.  “I thought I understood what I was in for with this book tour, it sounded like the most boring thing ever but I'm so tired and lonely.”

   I hadn't thought about that.  I had Jared and the guys but who did Jane have? “Isn't there someone traveling with you?” I asked her.

   “No. There's a host that meets me in each city that picks me up from the airport and drives me to things but other than that I'm on my own.”

   “I bet you miss Angus,” I said, trying not to sound too bitter.

    “I'm used to him not being around much,” she said. “I miss Roger but I'm kind of used to him being gone all the time too.”

   I hadn't even asked what he was up to.  “How is Roger? Where's he gone to all the time?”

  “He's good.  He's been working in Europe a lot.  Trying to decide what to do next. He's been really smart with his money from the beginning so it's not a huge deal but he's getting a little old for the runway stuff and it's all bound to slow down for him soon.”  

  Again there was silence. The gulf between us was huge and although I think we both wanted to close it I don't think either one of us had a clue how.  “I read your book. It was really good.”  

   “Oh. Thank you.” She didn't sound very excited.  “Did you guys play last night? How was the show?”

  “Great. Really great crowd.”  This conversation was going nowhere.  I took a deep breath and jumped back in.  “So, I looked up Angus.”

   “Oh good lord....” Jane mumbled.  But I had already walked through the door, I wasn't going to quit now.  

   “I see why you didn't want to tell me about him. He's quite the catch Jane.  Well done.”

  “Shannon I don't know what you think you know, but trust me...”

   I thought about what Jared had said. I wondered if he was the one that had the real handle on this situation. “So you're just going to follow him around and write, huh? Seems to me I made you a similar offer.  I guess mine didn't have enough zeros behind it.”

  “That's not how it is.” Jane's voice was tight, clipped.  “I knew you would start making assumptions.  That's the only reason I didn't tell you more about him.”

  “Then tell me how it is Jane.  I want to know.”  I did.  If she was happy, in love, I wanted to know.  I wanted that for her.  But if it was anything but, I felt like I needed to know that too, even if the truth was ugly.  I just needed to understand.

   “We met at NYU,” she finally responded.  “We sat next to each other at a Saturday writing workshop.  The workshop was terrible but we got to talking and just hit it off.  We started seeing each other for lunch a few days a week, then hanging out together more and more.  We were just friends.  We took a few vacations together, he brought his girlfriends along on some of them, I took a guy once.  He took me back to Australia to meet his family.  All as friends.  For years.”

   I silently wondered if she had just been biding her time, waiting for a chance to get her hooks into him.  Jared was getting into my head. She continued.  “About two years ago it changed, but it was really just a friends with benefits thing.  There was no romance, just...”

  “Fucking.” I filled in the blank she was unwilling to.  She didn't acknowledge me.

  “Eventually though he started to want more.  Started taking me out on proper dates, wanted to refer to me as his girlfriend.  But....”

   The silence again.  I hoped the blank that needed filling in here was that she was still too hung up on me but I was too chicken to say it.

   “I went along with it for a while.  I really did like him, like I said he's a great guy.” And then she said it. “But I was still too hung up on you.  I think all along I had just been waiting for the day I turned a corner and there you would be.”  I heard the catch in her voice that by now I knew meant she was about to start crying. Jane had always been a crier, she was a soft little marshmallow that wore her heart on her sleeve.  I felt like dirt.  How could I have ever thought she would be capable of the things Jared was accusing her of? Deceit on that scale seemed way beyond her. “But it never happened.  And here was this great guy, who was just crazy about me, who wanted more.  I figured fate needed a little help.  But I didn't have any way to get to you.  I thought maybe I could show up where you guys were playing one night, wait around with the groupies, maybe somehow get your attention.  But when I looked online....”

  Yeah, we both knew the next part.  I hoped she wasn't going to say it again.  “He ended up getting pretty serious.  And his family was pressuring him to settle down, they were getting tired of the gossip column items.  They would have liked me better if I came from a more well-to-do background, but they liked me a lot better than his other girlfriends. So we decided to get married.”

   This was ridiculous.  “Jane,  nowhere, in any part of that story, did I hear “and I just fell so in love with him”.  You didn't answer me when I asked you the last time either.  You are not in love with him at all, are you? Do you know how fucked up that is?”

   I heard the sniffles on the other end of the line.  Yeah, she was definitely crying now.  I waited for her to compose herself and answer.  It took a long time.  “I love him as a friend.  He knows I'm not in love with him.  He just doesn't know why.”

   I could feel the lump in my own throat.  I swallowed it down and summoned up the courage to ask.  Please let her answer be the one I need to hear.  “Why Jane?”

   I listened to her crying while my heart stuttered wildly.  Maybe this wasn't over after all.  I had lost all hope after my internet sleuthing attempt, I didn't think there was any way I could compete with this guy, but maybe I didn't have to.  Maybe he was the one that had to compete with me.  “Why Jane?”

  “Because I'm in love with you.  Still.  Probably always.”

    Yes! I felt like I had just scaled a mountain. “Then don't marry him. Fuck, Jane.  I'm telling you I still love you.  I'm telling you I want to be with you.  You just admitted you're in love with me.  So what the hell are we doing?”

   She stayed on that line crying, not answering, for at least a good ten minutes.  I was not about to hang up or give up though.  I held the line and waited.  

  “Where are you?” she finally asked.  “I've lost track.”

   I had no idea.  I leaned out of the bunk and yelled towards the front of the bus.  “What's the next stop?”

  “Tonight is Boise,” Tomo answered.  

  “Apparently Idaho,” I told her.  

   “I'm in Texas.” she laughed.  “I guess even broken hearts are bigger in Texas.”

   She really hadn't given me an answer.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

   She had stopped crying but her answer was so quiet, she sounded even more fragile.  “I don't know how to get out of this Shannon.  I don't know what to do. This wedding is a big deal...”

   “You call him up and you tell him the wedding is off.  That's how you get out of it.”

   “No one is going to understand.”

   “It shouldn't matter.  Either you love me or you don't.”

  “Indianapolis is in 10 days.  I'll figure this out.  I promise.”

   The silence settled in again.  I wasn't sure what she meant by figure it out.  I didn't understand how she could tell me she loved me and marry someone else.  None of this made a damn bit of sense. I needed to see her, and I didn't want to wait 10 days to do it.  

  “Where are you next?” I asked.

  “Nowhere near where you guys are going to be and I don't have any off days until the beginning of July.  Indianapolis is the 5th.  That's the best we can do.  But I will be there, I promise."  She got quiet again. "Shannon if I'm going to tank my whole life for you, you damn well better be sure that's what you want.”

   I hadn't thought about it like that.  I hadn't thought about her side of things much at all. Being married to a guy who was a good friend, who was crazy about you and could give you the things Angus could really wasn't that bad of a deal.  I guess I could see why she might have agreed. Was I just going to fuck her life up like I did my own? Everything I touched seemed to fall apart.  It hadn't been that way with Jane though.  I thought with her I could make it all work.

  “I'll be sure.  You be sure too.  Don't do this if it's not what you want.”

   Once again the phone conversation ended with the promise of that meeting. “I'll see you in Indianapolis Shannon.  I hope you have a great show tonight.”

   I held the phone for a while after she hung up.  I knew I needed to get my head straight, get my shit together, and I had 10 days to do it. One thing I knew for damn sure.  I wasn't going to tell Jared about any of this.

@msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @meghan12151977 @snewsome756 @maliciousalishious

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

The Battle at Hu Lao Gate

(Welcome to Director’s Cut, the segment where we beat up peasants in the hundreds and then beat up hundreds more. Today, let’s go back to classic literature.)

(Romance of the Three Kingdoms is one of China’s most well-known works of literature, alongside such things as “Journey to the West” and [author’s note: look up another work of classic Chinese literature before publishing this post. Preferably an obscure one that wasn’t turned into an anime or video game, so I look super smart and cool.] It’s a mythologized account of the Three Kingdoms period of Chinese history, written fully a millennium after the fact, that blends together historical fact, artistic license, and the sort of Confucian and Legalistic philosophical discussions that, even today, captures the interest of those people whose eyes wouldn’t immediately glaze over at having to read an eight hundred thousand word long book.)

(Clearly, for those with such a scholarly mindset, it’s only fitting to think that people might try and use the medium of fanfiction to render their personal interpretation of the lofty concepts of Chinese philosophy and... oh, wait, what? You’re saying that’s not what false-colors, the author of this work, was trying to do? You’re saying they just played Dynasty Warriors a bunch and decided to make a fanfic of the video game, and just dropped it in the category for the work of 14th century literature? Yeah, that sounds about right. Let’s dig in, yeah?)

THE BATTLE AT HU LAO GATE Disclaimer: No, I didn't think up or make the "Dynasty Warriors" series, the video game company Koei did, well they didn't really think it up, all the battles in the game really happen back in early AD time in China, they just made it into a video game, and a great one at that. (That wasn’t a run on sentence. That was a thousand li somersaulting sentence.) Author's notes: The Battle at Hu Lao Gate really did happen. I think, but not at all like this. Like the character Xiahou Dun. who was a real person.I think, he probably wasn't even in the Battle at Hu Lao Gate, and in this story he dies which isn't true, he died way latter. (Significantly latter. What little I could find in five minutes of searching says he probably died decades latter.) There are also a couple other characters that probably weren't in this battle, but I am positive that the character Lu Bu was. (Again, what little I could find in a quick search seems to suggest the battle of Hulao Gate didn’t even happen. It may be mentioned in the book, and it’s certainly in the game, but whenever I do a search, half the results say it’s fake, and the other half link me to Dynasty Warriors)  Also Dong Zhuo's army didn't win that battle Cao Cao's alliance did. Also if you don't have the game, just to help you out, there are 3 armies the "Wei", "Wu" and "Shu". This battle only involves the Wei. Winter, 191 AD a few years after The Yellow Turban Rebellion where Xiahou Dun defeated the magical Zhang Jiao, the trader Dong Zhuo has gained too much power over the land in China; (using the power of sensible trade deals and commodity management. Also, he was a traitor. A traitor!)  Coa Coa (the Wei supreme general) has formed an alliance against him. The battle to over-throw Dong Zhuo begins now. Xiahou Dun (a Wei general), wheeling his enormous Kirin Sword, is preparing his troops for battle. (His troops exchange glances, wondering who should be the first to tell Xiahou Dun that, if he needs to cart his sword around in a wheelbarrow, it’s probably too heavy for him to use properly.) Dong Zhuo's troops have already taken control of the gate and are camped south of it in his castle. The first wave of Wei troops are fighting at the gate, while Xiahou Dun cuts his way through to the back entrance. (His troops also resent being sent to battle while they’re still preparing for it. Xiahou Dun was the worst general in China.) Blow after blow Dong Zhuo's troops drop to the group until none are standing. Stabbing the last one blocking his path from the top of the gate through the heart, he steps on to the gate to only be faced with five bowmen, which he cuts down easily. (Luckily for Xiahou Dun’s men, Dong Zhou’s troops were trained from day one to do absolutely nothing to defend themselves, when soldiers attacked.) "We will jump down and attack them.", he yelled to his bodyguards. And with a swoop they leaps from the gate wall to the ground gracefully. (And then they landed, falling to the cold ground in a mass of broken legs and cracked skulls. Xiahou Dun spared himself by landing on one of his bodyguards.) Dong Zhuo's troops were everywhere, but he was much stronger then them, and he slashed through each one decapitating some and just leaving gapping cuts in others. The few generals that were there put up some fight for him, but still were no match. (It was truly the most exciting battle ever, with one side being categorically superior and not even feeling a hint of adversity.) And after the last one was cut down the gates were pried open and revealed yet another massive riot of Dong Zhuo troops.  Far off Dian Wei has started the battle with Lu Bu, one of the greatest warriors in China who favored his Lunar Spear and was crushing Dian Wei's troops with it. (”Damn,” said Dian Wei. “I’ve fought many warriors in China who favored his Lunar Spear and was crushing my troops with it, but this Lu Bu guy is, without a doubt, one of the greatest warriors in China who ever favored a specific weapon and is currently using it to crush my troops.”) It seemed no one was a match for Lu Bu, also the most feared warrior in China. He had already wiped out the two Wei generals camped south of the Hu Lao Gate near the castle and all the troops with them. (They didn’t even get a shot in. It’s almost like they just sort of stood there like idiots and let Lu Bu kill them, just so he could rack up a kill counter.) He was not far from the Wei Base in the north and not far from where Xiahou Dun was fighting. The enemy has been defeated near the Hu Lao Gate; bodies lie scattered and bloody all over the ground. Xiahou Dun has gotten word of Lu Bu, and orders not to go after him, but to go to the castle and defeat Dong Zhuo. He refuses. "No! I must destroy Lu Bu. There will be time for Dong Zhuo latter.", Xiahou Dun says. "But general, our lord has ordered us to attack the castle, we must.", says the messenger. Cutting him off, "If I don't kill Lu Bu now he will destroy us in the next battle", says Xiahou Dun.

(”No, we’ll be fine,” the messenger tried to reassure. “He’s only killing unnamed generals and soldiers. We crate those guys in by the gross, specifically for named characters to cut down. It’s a tradition, here in China.”) Xiahou rides off on a stolen enemy horse. He is headed toward the gate in the north were Dian Wei is. Lu Bu is there and has destroyed most of Dian Wei's troops and has severally injured Dian Wei. (”Damn,” said Dian Wei. “I’m not just singly injured. Or even like, couply injured. I’m like... severally injured.”) As Xiahou Dun arrives Dian Wei is retreating toward him battered and bloody. He says to Xiahou Dun in an almost dead voice: "Don't fight him, he is to powerful, he will kill you, run away! NOW!" Dian Wei falls to the ground and is carried away by his few remaining guards. Xiahoiu Dun approaches Lu Bu who is unhurt despite his battle with Dian Wei and the other generals. He is riding his horse Red Hare, the fastest horse in the land that only listens to him. (”Damn,” said Xiahou Dun, picking up where the brave Dian Wei had left off. “I’ve seen a lot of horses that only listen to Lu Bu, but that one has to be the fastest horse in China that only listens to Lu Bu.”) They begin to speak. "I have come to fight you, I hear you are a good general", says Xiahou Dun. "You pitiful fool, I will destroy you and the rest of your army.", says Lu Bu. "After I take your head I will then take Dong Zhuo's.", Xiahou Dun Says. "Well you are going to have to fight for it.", Lu Bu says as he slashes at Xiahou Dun Knocking him off his horse. With a flip in mid air Xiahou Dun is back on his feet and tries to cut at Lu Bu on his horse but he flips of at that same moment and the fight begins. Xiahou strikes first with a combination of five hits, all blocked, and then he charges up for a powerful swipe that should have sent Lu Bu Flying but only knocked him off balance. (Trust me on this. It defied the laws of physics, this exchange.) Lu Bu comes back with a few hit that are blocked by Xiahou Dun's mighty sword, (actually, it was mostly by the wheelbarrow it was being held in, but Xiahou gets testy when you bring that up.) but the last one sends him to the ground. This gives Lu Bu a chance to charge up and strike his Lunar Spear in to the ground creating a small earthquake sending Xiahou Dun back to his knees. (From the ground? Did it knock him back up, and then drop him down to his knees?) The battle goes on like this for hours, (really stupidly.) hit after hit from each other only a few actually doing any damage. Until finally Xiahou Dun cannot go on, his attacks are only getting weaker and Lu Bu seems to only be pushing harder and harder. (Part of it might have been that unlike Xiahou Dun, Lu Bu actually thought to come to battle with a weapon he could actually carry.) Then with a mighty swoop Lu Bu trips the unsteady Xiahou Dun up into the air and strikes him down to his knees with the end of his spear. "No, I cannot go on.", says Xiahou Dun, "I am to weak, my lord Cao Cao, please forgive me" "You should have listen to Dian Wei and ran away.", says Lu Bu, "Now you will die" Lu Bu sunk his Lunar Spear into the center of Xiahou Dun's head, killing him instantly and leaving him limp in a pool of his own blood. Lu Bu rides away on Red Hare to The Hu Lao Gate where more of Dong Zhuo's troops accompany him. They destroy the Wei army in one great blow. (It was truly an epic battle, where nobody bothered to fight after the only competent soldier on the Wei side was killed. It was like knocking down scarecrows.) Lu Bu goes on to fight many more battles leading his own armies and defeating many great generals. He is eventually killed in battle, his armies destroyed and forever remembered as one of the greatest and feared warriors in China (who ever favored the Lunar Spear, had a horse named Red Hare who only listened to him, and who ever crushed Dian Wei’s troops. If you didn’t compare him using such ludicrously specific descriptors, however, he was actually kind of a shit fighter.).

[doberbutts]

Serious kinda question, feel free to delete if you don't wanna talk about this, but is it hard to be black and get into dog sports? Your one of the only black dogblr blogs I follow, and dog sports seem (imo) to be a really white dominated sport. I'm not saying like outright racist but in my experience white dominated spaces like that are just super uncomfortable and awkward for me (can I touch your hair q's, oh that's not proper grammar etc)

PT 2 I was wondering what your experience with being black and being in the like niche show/sport dog world was like? I want to break into this world but am a little apprehensive to join something that just seems to white dominated, it seems as if through all the awkwardness and subtle micro-aggressions it would take the fun out for me and my dog if we ever got competitive

It can really depend what crowd you run with, and you have to remember that people are multifaceted, complicated, and flawed by design. Also, it might just be because I’m not involved in that world, but weight pull seems black/latino dominated to me. My exposure to weight pull however has been from inner city programs to try an help adults and kids learn how to interact wth their dogs in a different manner other than fighting them, so that may simply be due to location/region.

But it can really go either way. Among my list of IPO friends there are a lot of Trump supporters, blue/all lives matter, vaguely racist/anti muslim/homophobic/transphobic, anti-millennial, conservatives. There are also a lot of vegan/vegetarian, liberal/far left, old hippy/protester, natural everything no chemicals anti vax, raw feeding tree huggers. There’s people who fall somewhere inbetween. It actually reminds me of a post last year from one of my FB friends asking liberals what their most conservative belief is, and conservatives what their most liberal belief is, and what was discovered was that the majority of her friends all believed in basically the same set of principles with wildly different reasons, opinions, and phrasing for such. I find that most of the tolerable people in the dog world fall into that category- decent human beings who just want the world to be a good and safe place, just that have many different ideas on what exactly that means.

(It’s kind of like dog sports itself in a way- I train with a bunch of Sit Means Sit guys and I don’t like how they treat their dogs and would personally not do such things myself, but I also rarely see anything that qualifies as actual abuse and when that does occur the mentor pulls them aside [or anyone else he catches doing such] and has a word with them on what he won’t allow in his field.)

If I went into this world being afraid of what it meant for me to be openly black, gay, and trans plus fairly liberal and agnostic, then I doubt I would have gotten this far. Head up, be you, and don’t apologize for being yourself. Don’t be afraid to say what you believe in, but keep yourself respectful and humble as well (since you’re a newcomer). There will be people who won’t even consider talking to you because you are black, or gay, or whatever, and those are people I don’t speak with. Case in point- the person who encouraged me heavily to get Creed is someone that I am avidly Not Friends (tm) with anymore after multiple racist anti-black posts from her during the upset in Ferguson. Actually, my FB cover is STILL the iconic “return to sender” image (of the guy with the American flag shirt tossing a tear gas canister fired by police) because of this. I’ve had a couple discussions with people who know for sure that certain unnamed breeders won’t even consider selling or speaking to a black buyer. People are racist. That’s how it is. You can’t change them, so you might as well just cross them off your list of “people I make nice with” and go about your day.

There are several racist undertones in the dog world. A lot of respectability politics, a lot of classism and sexism, and there’s even Nazism and KKK members lurking in some parts- obvious if you look hard enough for it, subtle enough to slip under folks with “I don’t see color” radar. 

Also, perhaps because I’m in dobes and dobe people know better than to approach/touch someone holding one of this breed without their consent, but I literally never get “can I touch your hair”. I do get the occasional sight of a thin blue line sticker or all lives matter shirt but then again I’ve never been overtly frowned at for wearing any of my black pride stuff either. I have seen someone get kicked out of an event for refusing to change his swastika shirt, though us folks with the German breeds working in German sports tend to have to deal with skinhead idiots the most often. There’s a lot of little things that would go over the heads of folks who’ve never lived the experience of not being white in this country, but once you point it out the good folks usually go #YIKES at it. For instance, when I pointed out the very racist KKK slogan being repurposed to albino dobermans (White is Right), most of the more decent folks on my friends list went “OH MY GOD I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE EW EW EW EW” and yes it could be performative allyship but I’d rather that than “why should I care” attitude.

[hiddengemmovies-blog]

Leo the Lion

Netflix: No more star system but all ratings are only 1 or 5 so 3 star average??

Best user review: “Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he’s created?” 5 Star

Rotten Tomatoes: 55% Audience approval

Synopsis:  Leo is a young vegetarian lion who has trouble fitting in, so he leaves the jungle to go on a quest to find himself. --IMDB

This time around I bring you a delightful family romp that should purrfectly fit in with a loving family movie night: Leo the Lion! The 2013 film has received mixed reviews, but it is crystal clear to me: this movie has a lot of heart.

Leo the Lion, the title character, starts of being set apart by his pride by being revealed as a vegetarian-- much to the disdain and confusion of those around him. He does, at least, show that it is for good reason that he only eats fruits and vegetables. After all, if a lion is king of the jungle, how could he eat his friends that he is meant to protect?

His unnamed mother does try to take him underpaw and teach him the art of the hunt, and in fact Leo does manage to corner a young zebra that has the largest teeth I have ever seen. It is perhaps that dental overgrowth that causes and advantage, because after a brief chase scene, the zebra is able to flee while Leo’s mother falls into a raging river. Leo is traumatized by witnessing the death of his mother falling off the waterfall onto massive rocks, and develops an intense phobia of water as a result.

However, Leo takes the dying words of his mother to heart-- “Find the heart of the jungle. You can be safe there.” The only problem was that Leo had no idea where the heart of the jungle could be, and was far too meek to ever ask for help. While the other lions did bully Leo with frequency, he did find a friend in a sort of ‘village elder’ type named Uncle Lope. The dentured antelope is nothing short of a non stop comedic relief side kick, though he does provide a good deal of wisdom as well.

The main plot of the movie comes into effect when Savannah, the queen elephant, goes into labor after being startled by Leo. While she starts off afraid and mistrustful, his revelation that he does not eat meat and his restraint in not attacking her calms her, and she finds some small comfort in his company through the birth of her twins, who come out holding their tails together. After fetching the elephant doctor and being subjected to a sad flashback of the fate of the father, Eli Phant (taken by humans to be in a zoo), Leo is placed in charge of the children.

Here is where the movie takes an interesting, purely Christian turn. The newborn elephants, who cannot be more than an hour old, are clearly born with the knowledge of mother and father and that they clearly should have both. They decide that Leo is their father, an adamant assertion they make at every turn. After all, it is a sin for a mother to have a child without a father, tragic circumstances be damned. As such, they trust the vegetarian lion as a parent and follow him despite being told to stay by their mother.

A sudden brush fire spreads quickly through the jungle, and a mass of confusion occurs. First, Leo and the twins are separated from Savannah by a surge of scattering animals as well as the fire. Unsure of how far the fire will spread, Leo makes the decision to take the twins to the heart of the jungle, where they will be safe. Uncle Lope, of course, goes along for the ride.

Leo, a natural father figure, quickly picks up a few other children who were separated from their mothers during the fire: Ebony the zebra, Nanou the monkey, and a leopard. You may notice at this point that I am not naming many of the characters, and that is because most of them are not named. Even if they are central characters, like the twin elephants, because all the creativity went into Leo Bonecrusher, Queen Savannah, Eli Phant, and Maximus Elephante. 

Speaking of Maximus Elephante, this is the point of the movie where we learn more about the main villain. He is the largest of all the elephants, and albino, possibly. He is big and white and very mean, with an attitude that screams he can simply take whatever he wants. In fact, he is the reason Eli Phant was taken prisoner as he knocked him down to weaken him. Maximus has his mind set on marrying Savannah and becoming king of the elephants, something he has decided is his right.

Savannah becomes panicked when she realizes her children were missing, and with a lion no less, and reluctantly accepts Maximus’s offer to find the children and bring them home-- on the condition that they marry on his return. Meanwhile, Leo and his husband Uncle Lope are doing a fine job leading the children based on gut instinct and listening to your heart.

It is in this second half of the movie that it suddenly becomes a musical. It is in no way forced, using public domain guitar riffs and the singer, big shot Matt Mercer, does absolutely not sound like Count Olaf overacting while he sings or at any point throughout the movie. Honestly, how this did not win any awards is just further proof that the Academy is rigged against indie upcomers.

After finding Ebony’s mom and gathering her help in feeding the other children milk after scaring her, the rest of the children and their gay dads finally find the entrance to the heart of the jungle-- guarded by a super magic chameleon. This shapeshifting, teleporting Goo Roo accepts Leo as a pure hearted leader, who cares deeply for the children. After facing his fear of water, he guides the children on a whimsical rainbow to the true heart of the jungle-- a lake made of milk. The children feast, and Goo Roo keeps Nanou and the leopard while Leo goes to take the twins home.

This is when Maximus finds them. Since he is to be their new stepdad, he takes the children despite their protests and crying, and Leo turns tail, saddened but trying to understand that they must be a pure racial family. However to the surprise of everyone in the audience, Maximus was actually for real a super bad guy and threatens the children that he will kill their mother in front of them, as well as Leo, if they do not cooperate with his plan to become king. He also threatens to squish them like grapes if they do not stop crying.

After Uncle Lope reveals that he saw Maximus’s betrayal of Eli, Leo rushes to save the children. Savannah also enters the scene, having not wanted to wait around for a white male savior to get back to her. Still traumatized, the children are unable to speak over the thundering Maximus who accuses Leo of trying to eat the children, which shocks Savannah. Maximus nearly murders Leo, as well as Uncle Lope who comes to the defense. The elephants leave to go to the wedding shortly after.

After Lope actually dies and is brought back by the magical chameleon, he convinces Leo that he has to keep trying to save the children. At the wedding, the kids confirm he is actually a vegetarian, and since it had been days and he hadn’t eaten the children they decided to listen. Leo also accuses Maximus of his old crimes, to which he gleefully admits. After all, he is the largest elephant and no one is strong enough to defeat him.

Leo tricks him into running himself tired and further into getting into the line of sight of a helicopter, and karmic fate captures Maximus in a net. The movie ends with a much older Leo explaining to his two hybrid children that he and Savannah then became good friends as he helped raise the twins, and eventually lovers. A silly song about being a vegetarian ties a funny knot on a feel-good animated feature.

Now, to speak of the cinematography. The whole film is virtually lacking in background, leaving a blank canvas for you to project onto. It helps to focus on the quickly moving, beautifully textured animals, their mouths that clearly move with the audio, and the wonderful sense of movement and color. The faces are all incredibly expressive, and the tears shed by the animal crew would put Ghibli to shame.

All the characters are so fully developed and relevant that names are hardly necessary. You get to know the whole life of the characters, and nothing is ever left unexplained or unfulfilled. The children in the heart of the jungle clearly are fine and the unspoken mix of human elements in the forest is completely explained.

I felt that the plot could have benefited from being more focused on Leo, the title character, as opposed to a plot that centered more fully on the elephants, but they were woven together in a beautiful and cohesive way.

Notable lions:  “I’ll end your mother’s life and leo will be next, and where would that leave you, little orphans?”

4 out of 5 starving lions

5 out of 5 unnamed characters

5 out of 5 unexplained plot

Overall 4.5 karats! Sweet bling!