#tried making him look as cool as i could because i think an alien-looking fella in a cowboy hat with boxer gloves and guns is BADASS

[buttercup-barf]

Hey, @masterpofufu, sorry for the holdup. Here's ya boy Joda. Hope you're proud! :-)

And here's him without the effects just in case, as well as that one warmup scribble I did while trying to figure him out. A real fun fella to draw!

[yemilnisu]

INCORRECT HAIKYUU QUOTES FROM BUZZFEED UNSOLVED PT. 2

nisu entries:

a part two because i said so 🥴 i really enjoy these and you guys seems to enjoy it too i assume 💀 and i may or may not have a part 3 in my drafts ksksks

warning: swearing

「part 1」

Kenma: i don’t think anybody wants to spend any time here (earth)

Kuroo: that! so they (aliens) just blow it up.

Kenma: oh. *shrugs* if that happens, who cares?

Kuroo: i care because i live here!

Kenma: yeah, but then everyone's dead so nothing matters and that's kinda cool. i mean, what a privilege it would be-

Kuroo: you sound like a movie villain right now!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suna: i'm not even thinking that. i'm tweetin' and i'm streaming. wait- do i have my significant social media followers?

Osamu: you don’t have any following at this point 'cause you're suna rintaro in the timeline where you're at nasa.

Suna: …oh. i don’t even wanna live.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: you know, this was supposed to be the season of respecting ghosts and every time i've tried to do that, you yell at me to disrespect them.

Oikawa: i'm telling you to be true to who you are.

Matsukawa: i mean, that is certainly valid.

Oikawa: (laughs)

Matsukawa: 'cause i am living a lie otherwise because we're talking to air!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Akaashi: oh, i see it. there's a bird right there.

Bokuto: oh, there's a bunch up there. hey, bros.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Nishinoya: you know, i didn’t walk down west cell block.

*nishinoya humming and walking to west cell block*

Nishinoya: it's nice over here, i like it.

(high pitched whistling)

(distant thudding)

Nishinoya: *stops*

Nishinoya: if that's somebody up there, make that noise again in your cell.

(distant thud)

Nishinoya: ha-ha i fucking hate this place. i really do.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Voice: (whispers) atsumu.

Atsumu: who is that?

Atsumu: *looking around for the voice* *lowkey scared*

Osamu: do you hear the little whispers?

Atsumu: please.

Osamu: oops. (laughs)

Suna: *behind the camera snickering because he was the one who suggested it*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Lev: oh fuck, i forgot the spirit box, shit.

Kenma: go get it!

Lev: my hands are full 🥺

Kenma: well, try your best.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Bokuto: *baby voice* it's a little cockroach. you seen any ghosts up here, fella?

Kuroo: (laughs)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Ushijima: do you feel like you have someone else's thoughts?

Tendou: sometimes.

Ushijima: that wasn't the question. i think you misunderstood me.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: so right now, we’re in the captain's quarters.

Kuroo: is there anybody in here that wants to speak to us?

Bokuto: spill your beans, buddy.

Kuroo: what did you do on this ship?

Bokuto: he probably commanded it.

Kuroo: you know, i was asking him.

Bokuto: what'd you do on this ship?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tanaka: if you'd like us to leave and shut up, which frankly almost anybody who interacts with us for more than five minutes would like us to do, move something.

Nishinoya: spank us on the bottom!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sakusa: i mean, this sink is absolutely disgusting. this is maybe the scariest thing i’ve seen in all six seasons of this show.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Oikawa: *waving at his reflection*

Oikawa: always nice to see a friendly face.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sakusa: i don’t know why people think darkness is actually scary because i can’t see anything. it was scarier when the lights were on 'cause i could see you know filth, things falling apart.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Semi: (knocking) let's boogie, folks! little guy needs a win. ghost, that would be great. if you got a mummy or a vampire, also good. i think he'd also count that as sort of proof of the supernatural.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: please haunt me! i’m begging you to haunt me! scare the shit out of me! do something! (laughs)

Tsukishima: how many times do i have to plead with air, with nothing? i’m speaking to no one right now.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Shirabu: if you don’t pop out, then i’ve wasted several years of my life. i mean, i went to college, and my major was not ghost hunting.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: what's 'tsumu doing in there? who the hell knows? he's probably gonna take out his little spirit box.

*meanwhile at atsumu*

Atsumu: i’m gonna fire up the spirit box now. i am shaking 'cause i’m so scared 😄

*back to osamu*

Osamu: it’s probably gonna say something that doesn’t sound like any words any human's ever spoken.

*back to atsumu*

(spirit box blares)

Spirit box: "do it"

Atsumu: oh shit!

*back to osamu*

Osamu: he'll probably respond to it like he's sitting across the table from a friend, playing scrabble.

*back to atsumu*

Atsumu: did you say ‘do it’ or 'tsumu?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sugawara: old timey jails, very fun to visit... and that’s all i’ve got to say about that *sips coffee*

Asahi: (chuckles) nothing about the ghouls?

Sugawara: there will be no ghouls, there will be dust, there will be noises that you, you know, pee your pants over.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(bang)

Matsukawa: oh?

Hanamaki: ooh, a nice little drum hit.

Matsukawa: yeah, we got a beatboxing demon in here?

(bang)

Hanamaki: oh, shit, another one!

Matsukawa: *starts beatboxing*

Hanamaki: 🎶 my name is makki and i’m here to say. we’re the baddest ghost hunters in the usa. hunting demons and ghouls too 🎶

(unintelligible sound from the spirit box)

Hanamaki: what?

Matsukawa: *beatboxing*

Hanamaki: wait, hold on, we actually got a response!

Matsukawa: *still beatboxing*

Hanamaki: stop beatboxing! (laughing)

Matsukawa: huh, oh, sorry.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Koganegawa: *whispering* choo choo pickle pie.

Futakuchi: (wheeze) choo choo pickle pie, what the f--?

Koganegawa: i don’t know. i’m just thinking of a funny thing a ghost could whisper

Futakuchi: (wheeze)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────��─»

Tendou: and by the way, if you want a little more one-on-one time with the tsutomu here, he'll be here alone soon enough.

Goshiki: …

Tendou: *backing away while keeping eye contact with goshiki *

Goshiki: it’s a long way to back out. you gonna keep that speed going?

Tendou: is the door behind me?

Goshiki: it’s close.

Tendou: *still backing away but carefully trying to avoid the door without looking behind him and eye contact still on goshiki*

Goshiki: did that work out the way you wanted?

Tendou: *still backing away*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kageyama: you gonna sit in that chair? we’re not allowed to.

Hinata: oh, yeah.

Kageyama: but we are the internet's paranormal bad boys.

Hinata: (chuckle) that’s right, were controversial.

Kageyama: we’re planning cheek to chair, baby. you ain’t gonna stop me.

Hinata: i’m sitting in that thing bare ass.

Kageyama: i’m gonna give that thing a high-five with my butt cheeks.

*later at the location*

Kageyama: yeah, not gonna happen, i’m not sitting on that.

Hinata: that looks like a death trap.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Shirabu: the human mind, if it’s looking for something, it'll find something. and he's going to find something. and it will destroy him.

*meawhile*

Goshiki: holy shit. it felt like something walked past me twice, one from the right side, once on the left side.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Akaashi: it’s gone quiet now and i’m afraid he’s dead.

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[novantinuum]

On the corrupted!Steven theory...

So, originally when I mused on this yesterday I was just playing around with random possibilities.

After combing the series for info about corruption, though, I’m mildly spooked at the increased potential for this to... perhaps be a thing? I’m not saying that this is what I for sure believe will happen- to be honest, I’m not even sure Crewniverse would go this direction at all- but just for funsies, let’s see what kind of “evidence” or “foreshadowing” exists that might support this potential story path in the context of canon.

(EDIT: 10/7/19 

I honestly no longer think this creature is a worm at all whatsoever, it’s either more akin to a horned caterpillar or potentially has limbs. Either way we can see so little right now that it’s hard to tell. I’m not editing the rest of this post because I want it to exist in its original form- but do keep this in mind reading the rest! XP)

1) The design of this worm creature.

Let’s start simple. Let’s start tangible. 

For future reference and simplicity, I will be henceforth be referring to this creature as... “Wormy Boi.”

So, let’s see what we’ve got here. I’m definitely not the first person to point out this fella’s pink nature, and the jarringly human-like nose they’ve got. (Compared to other corruptions, which have had distinctly non-humanoid features.) In the photo above, we also have Wormy Boi sporting glowing pink eyes, which then send out a flare of pink light/energy. So, seemingly a powerful entity.

If you watch the short segment before they sit upright, you’ll see that Wormy Boi is super, super big. They’re in the background, but BOY do they loom. The shadows cast upon them especially push that sense of size. They’ve also got a whole bunch of spikes on their back and framing their face.

So, then. What evidence could be made for this being a corrupted!Steven, as opposed to some other run-of-the-mill monster?

Steven Universe Future is a limited series, described as ‘tying up loose ends.” To me, as a viewer, it would make far more sense for the antagonists/conflicts to deal with big concepts that have already been established since there’s such a limited amount of time we have left with this world. Introducing a completely alien species in the last act of the show would feel offbeat from both a writing and a viewing perspective. Corruption- on the other hand- is something we don’t have full answers to yet.

We don’t see any gem, yes- but Steven’s gem is- of course- on his belly. If this theory were to be true, that would translate to the gem being on Wormy Boi’s underside, far out of our sight in this shot, due to how massive they are. As an addition to this, not showing the gem gives an air of mystery to this creature’s true nature- which makes it seem like there’s something surprising to discover here.

A corrupted diamond would surely be MASSIVE. Also, very powerful. The beam of pink light hints at Wormy Boi being quite a powerhouse.

The spikes on Wormy Boi’s back and around their face highly resemble rose thorns. We all know how much the Crewniverse loves their rose symbolism, and design wise, this aspect would make a lot of visual sense for a corrupted Steven. Running off of that:

The face/nose shape and the five horns on this creature’s head give off a very Steven-like silhouette. 

The nose, of course. The face has a very Steven-like shape to it, overall- although noticeably more angular and sharp. The mouth is reminiscent of the Watermelon Stevens’ mouths. And as for the horns, there’s five of them positioned equidistant around their face, just as Steven’s hair is always formed from five lil’ bumps at the same positions.

Okay, moving on.

(Read more under the cut!)

2) We do not yet understand the true nature of corruption.

“I guess it’ll take more than a kiss to heal damage from the Diamonds…” -Pearl, Monster Reunion

Corruption is still- bafflingly- a huge mystery. The Gems we’ve watched the CGs bubble since season one have been healed, yes, but there are still many gaps in our understanding of it. With Steven Universe Future’s promise to address some lingering story threads, it would make sense if corruption was on the plate for further discussion. So, what DO we know?

We know it’s something the Diamonds can do. Interestingly, it doesn’t seem to require all four diamonds. Three of them together were able to cause all the damage to Earth. There’s also no statement made that more than one Diamond is required to cause effects like that. 

In Legs From Here to Homeworld, Blue and Yellow Diamond weren’t actually aware the corruption was something they were capable of producing. They seemed to assume they obliterated the Gems on Earth. Corruption is then, even a mystery to them. That’s... odd, isn’t it?

Pearl states that it’s “something nearly impossible to describe.” Garnet goes further to say... “It’s sorta like... if MC Bear-Bear didn’t tear the fabric of his arm, but the fabric of his mind.”

"A sound… A song?” There’s a lot of association between corruption and music.

It causes Gems to lose touch with their usual forms, instead warping into a more outwardly "monstrous” version of themselves that appear to be “just a bundle of fight-or-flight reflexes and survival instincts.” As seen by Centipeetle in Monster Buddy and Monster Reunion, it appears as if corrupted Gems try to regenerate with their original forms if unbubbled, but are simply not in a state where they can maintain that.

As seen with Jasper in Earthlings, extreme emotional distress very much seems to speed up corruption’s effects. This is less of a stated fact and more of my read on that episode, but I believe it to be an important tidbit, especially since Garnet states that corruption’s damage is mental rather than physical, at least at its core. This can also be seen in Monster Reunion with how Centipeetle’s partial healing backfires when she remembers the trauma of being corrupted and reacts strongly.

Now, when it comes to healing corruption, Steven tries to heal Centipeetle himself, and does make some nice progress... helping her regain a hold on herself as he treats her with love and compassion and understanding... but it’s ultimately not a healing that can occur in isolation, helping her on his own. She needs more support before she can heal from this corruption to a state where she can truly be herself again.

And that eventually comes in the form of the other Diamonds. So, all four diamonds can help relieve the corruption if they help these Gems all together. 

3) How could this theory potentially fit into the story anyways, you nutter?

Well, here’s the part of this post where I make some broad conjectures. I honestly am shooting fish into a barrel here because again- we know barely anything about how corruption actually happened initially, and my thoughts are very jumbled. Please forgive me.

"I don’t really know how the corruption works. It’s like they’re sick. They don’t remember who they used to be.” -Steven, Gem Hunt

So, corruption seems to be a mental ailment of Gemkind, turned manifest. It also seems to have a deep connection to a Gem’s emotions, with Centipeetle growing smaller and slightly calmer upon feeling more secure in Steven’s presence, and corruption speeding up as Jasper grew more and more emotionally overwrought and self-deriding about herself. 

When it comes to the Diamonds and how they perhaps caused it originally- without fully realizing- we know that at least Blue and White have abilities focused on causing others to act in certain ways. Blue has sway over one’s emotions, and White has a knack for forcing her thoughts and self upon others. (I’m not sure how Yellow’s ability would play in here.) Mayhaps, mixed with their grief and guilt and anger, their power simply pressed all of that hurt emotion onto all the Gems on Earth in one whole fail swoop...? Tearing their minds in the process of it all?

The question I still have, though- is whether a single diamond could produce effects like this. And whether a diamond could turn that ability on themself.

Could Steven accidentally corrupt himself? Why might that happen?

Well, let’s look at our boy here. 

He’s got a wide circle of support at this time in canon, but notably, he’s notorious for bottling up his emotion and not letting others in to help him- instead dropping everything to help them with their problems. Just to name a few examples (a few):

The Test. He feels betrayed and hurt at the Gems for a moment about the way they’re babying him with the rigged test, but instead of admitting the hurt he feels about the scenario, bottles that up to help them feel more like good guardians.

Joy Ride. He opens up to the Cool Kids about deep, incredibly troubling stuff that’s long been on his mind, but he’s never once talked about it with his family.

Mindful Education. The perils of bottling one’s emotions is literally the whole plot of the episode. The kid has a full out sobbing breakdown while he’s plunging to his death. Connie gets through to him a little here, but later episodes show that the resolution we see here is merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Steven’s internal issues. 

Storm in the Room. Externally, Steven tries so hard to put on a guise of content and positivity, but once alone in Rose’s room feels safe enough to let the full brunt of his emotional trauma come out in an almost explosive manner. Geeze, get this kid some hugs. 

Gemcation. Steven actually fails bitterly on putting on his customary smile in this episode, simply because the weight of his problems have become such an impossible burden to him. When the other Gems are trying to help him open up, he isn’t immediately responsive to their efforts. 

What’s Your Problem? Amethyst spends the whole episode trying to cheer Steven up and find out how he’s doing, and instead Steven downplays his own feelings on the matter and ends up helping her sort out her own emotional issues.

So to sum: Many an Emotional Issue, a chronic tendency to avoid outwardly addressing said issues in favor of helping everyone else instead... and to avoid accepting other people’s help.

Even if he’s surrounded by all these people who love him, the fact of the matter is that Steven still feels as if he has to face his own inner demons alone.

Now, let’s look at the lil’ teasing synopsis that was given for Steven Universe Future:

“After saving the universe, Steven is still at it, tying up every loose end. But as he runs out of other people’s problems to solve, he’ll finally have to face his own.”

Blatantly sounds like we’re gonna finally get some addressing of Steven’s emotional state, now doesn’t it?

4) A concept on what could, theoretically happen

“Maybe… it IS a guy in a monster costume. I don’t mean literally, silly! What I mean is... there might be a conscious Gem still inside there, somewhere. What if the monster is turning back and forth into its original form? If it is, it might not be as corrupted as we think! There might still be a chance to save it!” -Steven, Gem Hunt

Suppose Steven- by some as-of-yet unknown means- ends up accidentally corrupting himself. His sorry emotional state only further amplifies the effects of this corruption, and makes it really hard to retain control. Wormy Boi as a form could be like... all his inner demons made manifest, a metaphoric mirror into his current mental state. But- as he is half-human- he’s not entirely unaware of what’s happening. Perhaps... as the quote above could be sneaky foreshadowing for... how he’s turning back and forth between this corrupted form and his normal form. 

He likely wouldn’t want everyone to see him like this, doesn’t want everyone to visibly know the sheer depth of how much he’s hurting. But just like the corrupted Gems were only able to be helped in community, with the support of the CGs and the Diamonds in preparing the fountain, Steven can’t fix this on his own. 

He can no longer face the dark alone.

At some point, everyone has to take a brave step. Reach out. Accept help. 

Steven’s helped so many people, and surely he deserves that same love and care in return, too.

And perhaps, when he’s eventually healed from this- and has gotten the opportunity to be open with his family and friends about the hurt he’s facing- he’ll be left with “corruption scars” as well. I think it’s an important thing to address, that no one goes through experiences like these without lingering effects. Stuff stays with you. Healing is not always linear. But life is a continuous journey, and with the support of people who love you surrounding, you too can make a change... can continue to live to the fullest at every moment possible.

I think the above would be a lovely moral for Steven Universe to tackle in its last run of episodes, no matter how they approach it- daft corruption theory or not.

Now, in the end- a reiteration. This is just a wild theory. I’m not trying to be any authoritative voice saying that this is for sure what will happen, because in reality I have no idea what Crewniverse is cooking. However, I do think it’s fun speculation, and I am kinda spooked at how well things fit. 

Whatever happens, I’m sure it will make me weep like a baby, though. Hoh boy. Grant me sanity in these coming months as we wait for answers.

[pwnyta]

OK THIS IS MY IDEA FOR LIKE A VOLTRON SEASON... keep in mind I didnt watch the last season but nobody liked it so Im sure no one cares if I accidentally retcon stuff.. HERE GOES-

BOOM

Starts off with Coran. Hes staring up at some screen with a bunch of weird alien science bullshit on screen. He looks kind of more aged and tired which is a little concerning because his species is seemingly like immortal. But hes staring up at this screen and hes starts talking to Allura... whos not there its more like ‘where could you be, I still feel like youre out there somewhere‘ that kind of thing...

Romelle comes in and starts like ‘Coran you gotta stop with this. You gotta move. whens the last time youve talked to someone besides me or this screen.’ etc and Coran just looks sad because hes kind of been left behind and he misses the last family he really had left. and hes all ‘I feel like shes still out there... I wish she’d just give us a sign‘ and Romelle feels bad but tries to convince him to step away...

WHEN SUDDENLY some of the alien tech starts picking up some weird interference and Coran and Romelle are like !!!!! Holy shit... and now Romelle is a little on board and Coran grabs a communication device or w/e.

hard cut to Pidge and Hunk. Theyre just fucking around.. I havent decided more about them but lets just say theyre like playing a game late at night and goofing off surrounded by weird inventions and random junk... Pidge loses and Hunk gloats and theyre surprised when their phone rings... (of course Coran would contact them first) but MOVING ON

Lance is still like working on a farm somewhere or w/e he was doing at the end of the series, just with his big family and looking pretty pleased... little girl runs up and tells him grandma said hes got a phone call so he picks her up and heads in.. and then you find out the little girl is his daughter and hes a good dad and its very cute. also he has beard in these moments cuz it can be funny later.

Then we get to Shiro... whos sleeping. Hes all stressed out.. think that scene in IM3 with Tony... like hes not gotten any sorta therapy. And he wakes up all sweaty and startled and Curtis comes in and is like ‘Oh honey are you ok... I thought I heard you wake up‘ something something showing a cute relationship with the fellas. PHONE CALL.

Then were with the Blade. Full suited up Blades are training, ones way bigger than the other, theres some other smaller Blades at the side watching... its clearly some kind of battle instruction... This is were Keith is gonna be re-introduced but boom smaller Blade gets knocked back and helmet phases away to reveal some little gremlin mad that they got bested. A little hot headed moody thing and then the instructor phases his helmet away and its KEITH. Fully purple. Those hints that Keith was getting more Galra-like... now this. Krolia comes in to tell him Coran has called and asked him to come by because something important happened.

At where ever Coran is at the Paladins start showing up. Make it really clear that they havent really kept in touch much...

Pidge and Hunk meet up with Lance... see his beard and start RAILING on him. Like WHAT IS THAT?! And Lance fights back because he thinks the beard makes him look manly but Pidge laughs and Hunks like...//strokes his own beard and Lance is like ‘HUNK HAS A BEARD!‘ but Pidge is all ‘HUNK HAS THE FACE FOR A BEARD YOU LOOK GOOFY AS FUCK‘ And Lance is like ‘Whatever what do you know!‘

then Shiro is like ‘Geez you guys are already bickering?‘ Pidge is super excited to see Shiro and Lance is like ‘AH YES. A man of great honor and refined taste!! SHIRO... Tell them my beard looks good!‘ and Shiros all :).......... yeah. But its obvious hes just trying to be nice but hes a bad liar and Lance is like ‘GOD DAMN IT‘ and the others laugh.

Keith comes in fully Galra.. the other Paladins are like ?!!?!? WAT. And Keith is like hey! all casual about it, offers a hand to Shiro for their little hug thing even tho even Shiros still like ‘Purple? also youre taller than me now? Dont like that.‘ but Keith is like ‘wtf is up with the beard?‘ and Lance is all ‘I DONT WANNA HEAR IT FROM YOU.‘

Cuz hes fucking purple.

But they get to Coran and Coran goes off with a bunch of alien tech speak and only Pidge and Hunk are really following along but they look a little skeptical when he starts trying to mash pieces together like ‘Oh this could be Allura trying to communicate with us! Maybe we can get her back!‘ which of course hooks Lance immediately.

At the chance to maybe create some cool new device Pidge and Hunk are ready to work with Coran to make some device to pin point the anomaly and maybe create some kind of universe jumping portal... they remember that comet thing from that weird AU episode so they know its technically possible. Keith thinks its a bad idea and Shiro trusts his instincts cuz he wasnt really there for that so he has no input.

BUT it happens anyways and more information on the anomaly is given with Pidge and Hunks machine. they find its one life form thats not like something enormous and they get a little more into Corans mind set. Maybe this really is a Allura.

Theyre willing to risk it. 

Something something they build a machine and some kind of containment area to try and ease Keiths mind. Theyre suited up prepared for whoever it is that might come through.

But its clear when the figure steps through the portal that its not Allura and probably not an Altean at all. Weird number of toes, really tall. They suspect Galra and they know there are still rogue Galra out there so they keep their guard up but then the person looks over at them and immediately removes their mask and its Ulaz! and hes like ‘OH FUCK! Shiro!!! (not exact words... I dont do dialog leave me alone)‘

and Shiros ‘ULAZ!!!!‘

Ulaz can look a little different, maybe his mohawk hair is longer and braided so he looks all cool but also like he hasnt been able to maintain his hair, hes got some scars on his face, maybe he lost an eye or something.

And everyones a little excited to see him especially Shiro and even Keith cuz thats one of his Blade brothers! The first one hes met really... (Coran and Lance are not quite as happy...)

After a brief moment of joy Ulaz is quick to inform them of the AU Alteans.

They get filled in. They find out that those Alteans are also looking for Allura... which Coran is like ‘Allura really is alive!!‘ but its not that important to Ulaz at the moment cuz hes just going on about the number of followers Hiras got and theyve been fucking around in the universes gathering followers and power and shit.

Then hard cut to Hiras fleet and that bitch is PACKIN.

THAT WOULD BE FIRST EPISODE SET UP. //a fanfiction by Ewim

what do you think...

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 68-71

Chapter 68

Andi remembers how Kalee gave her a tour of her home and bragged about how she’d be ruling the place someday. Andi asks why her and not her brother.

Oh, Androma. Kalee had laughed then, tossing her head back in that glorious, carefree way that made everyone around her want to come closer. You and I both know that a woman can rule better than any man ever could. And I’ll look twice as good doing it, too.

Shinsay, voices muffled as their heads are stuck up each other’s asses: This is definitely, 100%, one whole, bona fide, authentic, organic, home-grown feminism that we just put in our book.

Also ... take a look at that weak-ass description that’s supposed to show us how good and cool Kalee is. When she laughs (in a way that tbh have you ever laughed? be real with me now), people want to ... come closer? 

Wow! That’s like saying ... when I scratch my face, people want to call their mom. When I brush my hair, people may spontaneously feel the need to take a slightly deeper breath.

Talk about low standards. Hey fellas, you ever see someone laugh and just kinda sorta want to approach them but not really? Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Andi thinks about how Kalee would’ve been a better ruler than her dad, who doesn’t even bother coming down to meet his tortured son because that’s how incompetent and evil and heartless he is. I mean, Andi doesn’t know that Valen is the result of rape, but still. Idk if I’m on board with how the book demonizes the hell out of the General but tried to make whatsherface sympathetic. And by “I don’t know if I am” I mean “I’m definitely not what the fuck is wrong with these people.”

Dex tries to make some conversation and Andi says that nobody befriended Kalee, that only super duper special people were CHOSEN by her to become her friends.

I’m ... not sure how this is supposed to be better. In fact, I’d say it’s worse?

“Kalee chose the people she wished to let into her life. I was honored that she allowed me to be assigned to her.”

“Honored?” Dex asked, raising a bruised brow. “Or damned?”

“I’ll let you know after we talk to the general,” Andi said.

I’m gonna fiking piss. “I’ll tell you whether this important life event was honor or damnation, but like, later, after we have this appointment, ok?” Why is this so funny. Have I fully lost my marbles?

Andi foreshadows some escape tunnels that are hidden all around the estate so Dex has a logical way to save them at the end of the book. I’m sure there is a more elegant way of setting that up, but I can’t be bothered to find one, so let’s call it acceptable and move on.

They arrive at their destination and Andi notices that Alfie seems bummed out. She muses that he’s “capable of far more complex thinking than she’d originally guessed,” which, DOY, but ok, and then thinks about how he’s saved her crew and remembered Gilly’s Marketable Space Pet, which implies he has some “understanding of feelings and attachments.”

That hamster wheel do be spinnin’.

The “head Spectre” comes out to meet them and ...

It took everything in her to speak as the truth struck her.

“Dad?”

DUN DUN DUUUN, it’s Andi’s dad! Also, “the truth struck her?” What truth? That it’s your dad? Was that in doubt? Did you really need a moment to connect the dots, to realize this is your dad? Was there a moment where you saw this man, who is your dad, and thought that this wasn’t your dad, only for the truth to strike and OH SHIT THAT’S MY DAD!! WOW HOLD YOUR HORSES EVERYONE I NEED TIME TO PROCESS THAT THIS IS INDEED MY DAD.

Tbh if you strapped knives to a roomba it’d have more charisma and presence as the protagonist than Andi. And let’s be real, more intelligence.

Yet another chapter ends on a pointless cliffhanger only for the scene to continue exactly where it left off!

You’re just full of surprises, Shinsay.

Chapter 69 (nice)

Andi recaps everything that she’s gone through after the Kalee crash up to the fight with the big alien dude who got deus ex machina-d by Alfie and how she nearly kissed Dex, which gets written as extra special, just so she can make this point:

But this...her father, as General Cortas’s head Spectre?

This might actually kill her.

And aside from how generically melodramatic it is, I can’t help but recall this, from chapter 7:

The man in front of her was a victim of her foolishness. Beside her was the man who’d rejected her love.

The two of them, together? It was nearly enough to shatter Andi.

Andi has the same reaction as I do when in a room with multiple men. Except in her case I think it’s supposed to be deep and personal.

Anyway, self-plagiarism aside, Andi thinks about how her dad was always there for her but then one day wasn’t when he didn’t support her on her trial and how conflicted she feels about him, both wanting to demand justice but also wanting comfort. This is actually quite touching and feels very grounded and realistic.

General Cortas rubs it in that Andi’s dad, “Comander Racella”, has been very loyal and hardworking since he was promoted after Andi’s trial. Andi hopes that her father actually hates the general and was forced to work for him as some sort of punishment for what happened with their daughters.

The general says the situation on Adhira has been taken care of, and when Andi asks whether Xen Ptera attacked because of Valen and her crew’s presence on Adhira, the general says that’s classified. For reasons? Idk. Seems pretty obvious to me, or maybe he just doesn’t know?

Dex tries to yap but Cortas flexes his big dick and reminds Dex that he’s a Guardian now, and Dex is too much of a baby to risk his regained status so he shuts up. This is all spelled out for us by Andi’s inner monologue, because we’re idiots.

The general claims the Xen Pteran forces have been wiped out, saying how it’s probably all they had since there’s few able-bodied and willing people to recruit for war after their planet got fucked, and when Andi presses him for why the attack happened now and on Adhira, he says:

“War never really ends, Androma. The desire for revenge is often too strong to forget.”

“War never ends ... But me and my crew totes ended that war just now. They don’t have any more soldiers so this war is over.” Makes sense, sir. 

Cortas says that queen Alara is safe and will be at the Peace Summit, which Andi immediately tells him to cancel because it would be the perfect opportunity for another attack. Cortas replies by saying that Arcardius is impenetrable and that the day the Olen System successfully invades will be the day “stars fall from the sky” which is a very poetic and not at all natural way to say something like this, so it’s there for ... idk dramatic irony? He also reminds her that the Summit is important because it celebrates the peace after the war and the unity between the systems and I’m here like ... for a guy who says war never ends, you sure seem happy to celebrate a war ending and don’t believe one is going on right now. But I guess these characters just exist to spout meaningless yet deep-sounding nonsense at each other.

Dex reminds the general that they’ve done their end of the deal, at which point the general conveniently decides to prolong it out of nowhere and essentially forces Andi and Dex to be Valen’s bodyguards at the Peace Summit by holding Andi’s crew and ship and Dex’s money and status hostage. Thanks for ensuring the main characters are there for the climax, sir! Appreciated!

Dex and Andi leave in a huff.

Chapter 70

We’re in Lira’s POV as she reminisces about her childhood with Lon while he’s recovering from his near-death-experience.

So she sat by [Lon’s] side for endless hours, until the warm clutches of sleep stole her away.

She dreams about flying on an “Adhiran darowak” but then DUN DUN DUUUN Adhira below turns into Xen Ptera and it’s horrible!

“No,” Lira gasped. Her heart began to crack. Fissures spread through it, reaching cold fingers through every valve until Lira felt darkness stealing her away.

So the editor just left that in, huh? Just let Shinsay use the exact same wording in less than 200 words? Must’ve been stolen away by the editing fairy for editing crimes while reading this.

Lira is woken up by Alara, who got here so fucking fast she must be part-Sonic on her father’s side. You’d think a planetary leader would have more to do after a sudden and deadly attack on her home planet, but I guess Adhirans are so chill they’ll just let their leader fuck off to take care of her angsty teenage niece instead.

Lira says that she’ll do anything to make up for bringing Valen to Adhira, to which Alara says that the only thing Lira will do is “follow her heart,” which is sweet of her to say but also really convenient and makes this whole decision easier for her.

I mean, it’s nice that Alara is so supportive, but 1) narratively, it removes the conflict that was introduced only a few chapters ago 2) it makes Alara seem like she’s only there to be the supportive cool aunt and the Good Queen, without any expectations or wants of her own. Like, wasn’t the pressure from Alara something that gave Lira actual conflict? Idk. Seems too easy, is what I’m saying.

Lira didn’t let go of her aunt until the tears dried up. Until they sat down on either side of Lon’s bedside, held his hands and spoke of happier times. The beauty of a family that could come together, broken, and still find a way to become something whole.

You’re one step away from “Ohana means family” over here, Shinsay. Stop spelling shit out. WE. GET. IT. Also, whose narration is this? We’ve mostly stuck to third person limited, so ... is Lira thinking this? Is she thinking this shit while it’s happening? About her own family and situation? What the fuck?

Shinsay couldn’t keep their suspiciously sticky fingers out of their own writing and let it breathe so it comes out looking like God’s mistake.

Anyway, Lon wakes up and Alara tells him what went down on Adhira.

Chapter 71

We’re back with Andi, who just got out of a bath and is bitterly admiring her “private quarters” when she’s interrupted by DUN DUN her dad! He’s been waiting for her!

It’s all very tense. Before they can really start talking, though, we get a flashback. No, really. This whole tense reunion between father and daughter is interrupted by a lengthy flashback brought on by Andi watching her dad and Remembering.

Because Shinsay.

It’s a flashback to Andi in a cell, the day before she was supposed to be executed. Her dad tells her that her mother is "not well” and we find out his name is Oren. As they’re saying their tearful goodbyes, Oren slips Andi a key and tells her “Bay Seven. Tomorrow at dawn.” 

The flashback ends with Andi’s cell standing empty the next morning.

Very cool and all that.

Back in the now, Andi rightfully chews her dad out for being a cowardly little bitch and throwing his teenage daughter under the bus for the sake of status. Something he freely admits to doing. He says he and her mother had to struggle to rebuild their reputation after she ruined it, and that he believes his daughter died with Kalee and that whoever he saved in the cell was already the Bloody Baroness even if she didn’t know it yet. Then he fucks off.

It’s all extremely silly. It would’ve been heartbreaking in any better book, but instead, it just feels like it’s tacked on for the sake of adding even more angst to Androma’s character. In fact, she’s not even upset at this. Instead she just carves some more tallies into her swords, dances some more with the dead, and then sneaks out.

No really, it’s written like a list.

She waited for the tears to come. But they never did.

Instead she sat alone, adding more tallies to her swords. Dancing with the dead inside her head.

Why is this so funny! I think it’s because both the tally-carving and the ghost-dancing is supposed to be these deep and haunted things she does that’s given a fair amount of weight and focus, but then it’s just written out like this like it’s just some generic routine shit she does like brushing her teeth or wiping her ass.

Yup, there she goes, doing her generic angsty shit one after the other. Emotional whiplash glossed over for the sake of moving the plot along. She’s in such a bad mental state that we simply MUST ignore it and move on.

Also, I want to highlight how convenient it is for Shinsay to already have Andi suspect and previously coming to terms with how her parents don’t love her before this confrontation. Like, we see her father save her tearfully, yet Andi has almost no hope that he still loves her. Or, she does, but when it’s squashed, she just ... accepts it? Because hey, she already processed that trauma years before! Makes it easy!

Wouldn’t it make it more impactful if all these years, she’s hoped that she has a home to come back to? That her father’s final act of saving her meant they love her still and want her to come back? And now she finds out that they never even mourned her loss? Wouldn’t that be heart-wrenching? And also add to the idea that Andi wants to return to Arcardia, both because it’s her home planet but also because that’s where her parents are? Instead we’re led to believe Andi wants to return, but when she does, she hates it here, she knows nobody wants her here, and she wants to leave immediately.

I seriously question the inclusion of this subplot and these characters. It adds nothing, changes nothing, and is just there to make Andi more angsty, which she already is, so ... why is this here lmao?

Shinsay really went “let’s squander all our potentially interesting ideas and concepts for the sake of more cheap angst and making our protag a cool emotionless badass who don’t care for no thing.”

[trying-write-fanfics]

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 12 Remember

“So who do you want to go with you?” Sero asked. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” She smirked. “Satou, could you accompany me to the store?” She bowed. 

“Me? Obvious?” Satou was confused all around

“Yeah you look cool.” She told him. “Gotta surround myself with hunks just in case if I see anyone I know. Makes me look cool, like a celebrity with body guards.” 

“Well who's your other choice?” Mina asked. 

 There was an obvious choice. But she had to play it off cool.

“Shouji you can come if you want.” She tried being nonchalant. 

Shouji was on his phone, but he was listening. He knew he would be picked. The choice of Satou was surprising, but it was becoming clear. Y/n figured he would want to go, since he was always playing the hero.

“I guess.” touche.

“Now that I have my gang, I got to make myself look cool.” Y/n said doing a twirl.

“That’ll take a million years!” Bakugo yelled.

“I’ll kill you.” Y/n growled at him.

“I gotta change actually.” Satou said. 

Y/n waited outside for the two guys. Satou just wore a t-shirt and jeans. But Shouji’s look got a bigger reaction. 

“Cameo pants! What are you trying to do?Go hunting?” Y/n yelled.

“They’re my casual pants.”

“There’s nothing casual about hunting, Shouji.” Y/n said. “I thought maybe you guys could wear some chunky rings or something, something that says you’d beat any punk coming at me.”

Y/n didn’t let them in her room as she changed. She came out in a shocking look. It wasn't just going out to the store. It was a pale blue slip dress with a big fuzzy pink jacket. Not only did she wear high white boots, but also huge sunglasses, at sun set. It was obnoxious. 

“Here, I have some manly sunglasses.” Y/n offered two more pairs.

“I don’t need that.” Shouji said.

“What’s with the outfit?” Satou asked

 Was something up?

“I haven’t been in public in weeks, I’m no longer wasting my time with boring outfits. I’m a star with a cool closet that must be seen.” She told them. “C’mon can’t we look like a cool band or something cool.”

They didn’t accept the glasses, but Y/n didn’t press them. They walked to the store. Shouji knew the girl's mind was still clouded with whatever the phone call was about.

“Satou, you’re quiet. Learn anything cool today?” Y/n asked.

“I- I guess, what about you-” Satou asked.

“I learned that Shouji Mezo is an eavesdropper and does NOT mind his own business.” Y/n said. “Why are you so nervous? Am I really this big scary demon of the UA campus?”

A small smile crept under Shouji’s mask. So she would tease him, an interesting thought.

“I’m not the best at talking to girls.” Satou confessed.

“Why? Are you bad at flirting? You got big lips.” Y/n asked

That smile got pulled a little bit.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Satou asked.

“No one wants to make out either small lips, Satou. Too thin and it’s like making out with plastic wrap.” She explained. “I’m sure someone would make out with you, there’s enough to grab on to.”

“How do you know that?” Satou was shocked. 

“I’m good at listening-“

“Eavesdropping.”  Shouji corrected. 

“I know what’s good, okay. Besides why are you bad at talking to girls? You think I’m an alien?” She asked Satou.

“No-no nothing like that. I just get nervous. Not just with the idea of flirting” Satou said.

“What are you gonna do when you have to rescue a woman? You’ll have to ask questions, like oh my god how hurt are you?” Y/n said. “And what if she’s just so gosh darn beautiful with blood shooting out of her eyes?”

Satou didn’t like how detailed she was going and the. Thought of a perfect topic changed.

“What do you want us to call you? Since your name isn’t Velia but (last name). I feel like if we call you (last name) I’m calling you by your mom or dad’s name.” Satou asked.

“(First name) is fine. There’s no huge reason to be formal with me.” She was quick to say.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I like my name and others should say it. I am a gosh darn star, Satou” Y/n said.

 Y/n got quiet as they entered the store. She was on a mission. The group got stares, but people didn’t know who to look at. The overdressed brat, the land octopus and the real sugar beefcake was quit the crew. Whispers of “is she a celebrity, do I just not recognize her?” Were heard. Then some kid had the gall to ask for a picture. Y/n did agree and the parent took it. “Did you know her” “no, but I don’t want to miss my chance just in case she is.” Satou watched what she picked out. Baking soda, lemon juice, sugar, and honey. She was still looking, but he thought he figured her out.

“Are you trying to bake something for the class?” Satou asked.

“No, but you’ll see.” Y/n said.

“Oh my god is that Y/n!” A woman’s voice called.

 Shouji and Satou both became on alert. Was this an escape route? She picked a perfect duo if she wanted to escape since they were both close combat types, bulky and strong, but not the fastest. The teen was blond and also was wearing a ridiculous outfit to the grocery store. It was white romper. Her hair was done in a complicated fancy fashion. She was a bit taller than Y/n. Y/‘n’s eyes said she knew they girl, but neither boy could read the emotion. 

“Oh my god, Brittany.” Y/n shimmied her shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know to get food for my healthy complex diet that keeps me looking like a goddess model. What about you? You haven’t been posting on social media and I heard some of our friends could no longer reach you? What is up with that?” Brittany asked. 

“I’m doing a cleanse for my mind. You’re working on your body and I gotta dig a little deeper for my own self-improvement.” Y/n said one upping her assumed friend or enemy.

Were they competing for something? The comment y/n made clearly pissed off Brittany, but she remained composed.

“We just haven’t seen you in so long, I was gonna try and get the gang back together, you know a  nice meet little get together.” The girl said. “I don’t know how much you’ll have to say though since you’re just doing online classes, I bet there are no juicy stories.”

Was she not going to acknowledge the two tall muscular guys?

“Well if you need to contact me, you can call the U.A. offices. They’ll let me know.”

Brittany’s eyes shot open. 

“I was gonna say these two guys do look familiar? What are you doing at U.A.?”

Y/n was about to say she’s a teaching aid but then it was gonna look weird to hang out with students after class. 

“Oh you know.”

“I don’t.” Brittany was quick to say.

“Well I can’t just tell you, you either get it or you don’t, Brittany.”

 Brittany looked at the two boys, they felt the daggers shooting out of her eyes, but it seemed she didn’t know how to counter Y/n’s comment. 

“Are you still-“ Brittany’s hands went to the fabric of Y/n’s dress, sliding it up her leg. “-bruising easily-“

“Hey!” Y/n growled as she smacked her hand away. 

 It was an uncomfortable moment, but Y/n started laughing it off. 

“I was only checking, I remember back in middle school you would bruise so much. You wouldn’t want these two fellas to be in charge of body inspection control. It’s indecent.” Brittany said. 

Shouji couldn’t watch this shit show anymore. 

“We should get going.” Shouji said, hoping to change the scenery.

“Oh is there something special you have to do? Either of you didn’t make it to the final round of the sports festival, I thought they would just like expel you.”

She avoided talking to them this long and now that they said something she was ready to fight. What was she gaining from this?

“No. They don’t”. Shouji said. 

“My body guards are right though, we do need to get going, Brittany. I will be waiting for your call and maybe we’ll do a sweet little brunch.” Y/n said.

Brittany smiled and the two girls hugged. Then they kissed each other on both cheeks like this was France. They thought the two girls hated each other. After checking out, one of them decided to speak .

“So was like your friend?” Satou asked.

“My best from  middle school.” Y/n explained. “I hate and love her. We’re the only two to keep up with each other.”

“You’re kinda like Bakugo and Deku.” Satou said. 

“You’re always telling Bakugo to let off too.” Shouji added. 

“That’s because Midoriya isn’t asking for it or deserves it. Brittany and I’s rivalry all started when our parents said we should be like the other and then we both started acting out, and on a mutual agreement we are mean to each other because we can handle it.” Y/n explained. “I have not see any documentation where both Bakugo and Beefcake have fully agreed to mutual rivalry.”

“Do you two have that, for real?” Satou asked.

“Yeah, on Instagram. We both use to vote each other for hottest mess for our school page.”

“Why was she checking out your leg?” Shouji asked. 

“Cause she can’t keep a fucking secret.” Y/n said harshly

They started walking back to the dorms. Y/n did get some food for herself that she ate on the way back. Shouji and Satou carried some of her bags, they had the arms for it. At the cross walk, Y/n looked one way and began to go. She didn’t hear the electric car coming from the direction she didn’t check. She heard the groceries being dropped and then felt the arm pull her back. Her back was pressed against Shouji’s strong chest. She felt his heart beating fast. The car kept going as it would have hit her. Though she was safe Shouji still had her. She looked up at him a little shocked. Was it the saving? Was it the fact she didn’t notice the car that was gonna hit her? It was a new feeling. He was looking straight back into her eyes registering what he did. 

 Satou hated this feeling. Third wheeling. He bent down and picked up the groceries Shouji dropped, luckily the items remained in the bags. 

“You should really look both ways.” Satou broke the moment as he picked up the fallen goods.

The duo came back to reality and Shouji set Y/n down. There was a war of emotions Y/n was feeling. Embarrassed, she needed to be saved! All this hard work to show she wasn’t this weak dying child and now no one has to worry about her quirk killing her, bad luck and irresponsibility will! But it was nice, it was really nice. He’s a wannabe hero so of course he’d save her and prove himself that he would do the right thing in a snap second decision. But it was still nice. It was nice not being splattered on the road. 

“That was on me.” She said finally. 

The mood was changed. Shouji and Y/n were quiet thinking about what had just happened, and Satou didn’t want to talk about it knowing it would only make it more awkward. It felt like Y/n’s lungs were gonna get jet packs and burst in opposite directions. Her stomach was a tangled mess, the more she couldn’t understand her feelings the more she felt overwhelmed. The two guys walked Y/n to her dorm. 

“You good from here?” Satou asked. 

“Actually I’m gonna stop at your dorm again, Satou can you stay behind actually and help me put away groceries?” 

“You don’t need my help?” Shouji asked. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t talk bad about you.”

“Okay.”

 Shouji left and Y/n waited for him to be completely before she talked out loud. Satou helped put food away.

[clara-licht]

Caught in a Lie | Prologue

Word Count: 1,820

Summary: When Wanda told the team there was a young girl with her during her days with HYDRA, they knew they had to save her. Only she was no longer the little girl Wanda was familiar with; everything about her was now a mystery.  Unbeknownst to them, her past may just hit a little closer to home than expected.

Pairing: (Platonic) Avengers x Reader

Warning: may contain description of blood, violence, human experimentation, and anything you might associate with HYDRA.

Teaser | Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Should I go with you?"

"You can."

"Will I be happy?"

"Happy is indefinite. You will have people around you who will care about you. You will be happy, but you will also feel sad, at times. It's inevitable."

"…and if I stay?"

"You will continue what you're doing right now."

"…I see."

"But in the future, you will gain what you longed for."

"What I longed for?"

"A father."

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

"How are you doing?"

Wanda didn't look up from her steaming cup of tea.

"You were off at practice today."

No answer.

"Come on, speak to me, Wand."

Realizing she wouldn't answer, Steve sat next to her. Both of them said nothing for a while, letting silence draped over them. The common room in the compound was eerily silent save for the pitter-patter of the rain outside.

"I dreamt of him last night," Wanda murmured, her accent thick.

Steve hummed, but offered nothing else.

"It was getting better, it's just…"

"Getting worse at times, I know."

She pulled the blanket around her tighter before sipping the steadily cooling tea in her grip.

"I lost someone too, you know," Steve started, "to HYDRA, of all people."

"I heard. Those people never shut up about how they managed to take down Captain America's best friend in the past." Wanda bluntly said.

Steve shrugged. "HYDRA can be a bitch."

He laughed when Wanda slapped his shoulder. "I thought they said Captain America disapprove vulgar language!"

"I lied on my enlistment form multiple times since I was a teenager, picked up fights I knew I wouldn't win, and volunteered myself to be experimented on. That pure image is just a front, you know, something I keep up with just because."

Wanda flinched when he casually mentioned volunteering for experiment, but commented nothing.

"Anyway, do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Him."

A hum left her lips, "I don't know."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "How come?"

"When I think of him, sometimes I feel heavy, yet sometimes I feel light. I remember the good times and I remember the bad times. Mostly I just remember him and nothing else, and that can still make my heart hurts," she spoke lowly, her hands waving in front her, creating red wisps from the tip of her fingers. "Does talking about him makes me feel better? Or would it make me feel worse? I don't know. I don't really want to find out, to be honest."

Once again, silence ensued.

"I like to think it makes you feel better."

Wanda glanced at the super soldier beside her.

"It may be hard at the beginning, but those who left us wouldn't want to be forgotten or just remembered for the bad parts of their life, would they?" He smiled. "Talking about them brings back the good memories, along with the bad ones, sure, but doesn't it feel nice to just remember?"

"…I suppose."

Steve chuckled.

After a while, Wanda spoke up again, "I dreamt about our time in that base."

"Hm?"

"We were just children, we just lost our parents, and we thought we were going to die by a bomb Stark made. We were desperate. When we signed up, we thought of nothing but revenge. It was the only thing that kept us going," she mumbled. "…at least for me."

"What do you mean?"

"He made friends easily, you know?" She chuckled. "It doesn't matter who they are, he just had this way into people's hearts."

"He was a bright young man, from what I saw."

Wanda smiled sadly. "I dreamt of him and the little girl he liked so much."

"Little girl?"

"HYDRA's other experiment. She was so young and so terrified and was already there even before us. Pietro," she stopped short. God, just saying his name brought back so many feelings… "Pietro… He tried to comfort her. Befriended her. After a while, she became one of the reasons he kept going."

"What did you think of her?"

"Well… I didn't like her at first," Wanda shrugged, "I thought she had distracted my brother from our purpose. Stryker even made her 'a prize' for him. Of course, it was actually a threat, a blackmail, but Pietro was too focused to make sure she was fine."

Steve frowned. "Did he… did he have a, a relationship… with her?"

Wanda snorted, "Of course not. We were all just children. Pietro thought of her as another sister to protect."

"Then what do you mean, prize?"

"We didn't get our powers easily, you know. It was a struggle. The pain itself was unimaginable. We were so close to giving up, but Stryker threatened to hurt her if we don't push through. He called her a prize for us. I kept going because of Pietro, and he kept going because of her. Pietro, my dumb beloved brother, believed Stryker. I knew better. There was no way they were going to do anything to that girl. She was their number one project, after all."

"Number one project?"

She huffed, "Pietro and I are enhanced by the Mind Stone. But her? She was a mutant from birth. Add that to Mind Stone enhancement? You got the perfect weapon."

"Wait, mutant from birth?" Steve asked incredulously.

Wanda looked at him weirdly, "You've seen gods, aliens, powerful stones from the space, an android with said stone on his forehead, and you still think it's impossible for people to have power since they were born?"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"Unbelievable," Wanda shook her head, "but I suppose that's why he was so adamant to keep her safe. She did go through a lot, having been there not by her own volition. What they did to her… I heard it was way worse than what we experienced. With time my dislike just went away, because I pity her more than anything else."

When Steve didn't reply, Wanda turned to look at him.

Steve had a deep frown creasing his forehead. His eyes were serious and his lips were in a tight line.

"Steve? What is it?"

"How old did you say she was?"

"I didn't…" She answered, confused, "but when we first signed up, she was 7 years old."

"And where is she now?"

Wanda stared at the still frowning Captain, "She was moved from the base we were experimented on 3 years ago. We never knew where."

"But there's a chance that she's alive," he stated rather than questioned.

"…Yes, there may be."

"Why didn't you tell us earlier, Wanda?"

Closing her eyes, she let out a tired sigh, "I tried not to remember Pietro so much I actually forgot about her. It's also been 3 years since I last saw her, I don't even know if she's alive."

Steve stood up. "We're going to find out," he said, "All those HYDRA bases we took down didn't have any children or traces of human experiment, so there must be more bases out there. We'll take them down, and we'll find out about her and other human experiments if there are any. They don't deserve that life," he stated firmly. "A child. God, she would only be 14 years old now…"

Wanda finished her cup of tea before asking, "How are we going to do this, then? Thor is not here and Stark and Clint retired, remember? We're down 3 people already."

Steve pursed his lips.

"We'll go with everyone we have right now, but if push comes to shove, we'll have to ask for backup."

Wanda hummed. "So you're going to assemble the team tomorrow?"

"Maybe not tomorrow. I'm going to do some research beforehand."

"Okay," she stood up and picked her cup and blanket up, "I'll go to bed now." She started walking away.

"Wanda, wait."

"Hmm?" She looked back.

The frown still hadn't left Steve as he asked his final question of the night, "What's her name?"

"(y/n)."

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

It was supposed to be a normal training day, but they were all told to gather in the meeting room. Steve, Natasha, and Wanda were still absent, leaving only Sam, Rhodey, and Vision.

"Do you think it's a mission?"

"I don't know why else would we be gathered here, so yeah, a mission."

"Where's Maximoff though?"

"I believe Miss Maximoff is currently with the Captain, as I have heard that this mission comes from Miss Maximoff's information."

"Man, I can never get used to hearing JARVIS' voice from you, Vis," Rhodey chuckled, "It's just so weird, you know? Tony started coding when we were still in MIT, so I got used to hearing his voice wherever Tony was."

"Well-"

Steve stepped into the room followed by Natasha and Wanda, effectively cutting Vision. The three man (two man and an android?) stood straighter.

"Have a seat, fellas."

As they sat, Steve pulled up a hologram displaying map of the world with a few red dots littering. "A few months ago, before Sokovia, we thought we took down the last HYDRA facility. We were wrong. Nat found these locations after some digging."

And by digging, he meant threatening and going through with said threat.

"From what we know, there are only less than 5 locations left. We're going to take them all down."

Steve looked around, seeing his teammates all nodded in agreement. "But there's a catch. Last time, we were looking for Loki's scepter. This time, we're going to look for HYDRA's human experiments and save them."

"Wait, human experiment? Like Maximoff?" Sam asked.

"Exactly like me," Wanda answered before Steve could, "I told Steve about a girl my brother and I used to be with before she was moved. There's a chance she's alive, so Steve decided to try and save her."

Rhodey frowned, "I get that wanting to save her is good and all, but aren't you being too positive right now? There ain't any assurances that she's alive, especially after that whole Triskelion fiasco and information leaking. She could already be killed to save information or whatever."

"Rhodes," Steve started, "She's just a child."

"A child?"

Steve rubbed his forehead tiredly and sighed, "She was only 7 when Wanda met her. If there's even a slight chance she's alive, we got to take it. No child deserves that kind of life."

Rhodey swallowed hard. A child? They experimented on a little girl?

"I know what it's like, being used as child," Natasha said, "and I don't wish it upon anyone. We have to find her."

"Say that we found her," Rhodey spoke again, "what are we going to do with her?"

"We keep her safe," Wanda said.

"Here?"

"If that's what it takes," Steve insisted, "she deserves it."

"But who's going to take care of her? Us? We're not babysitters, Cap," Sam interjected.

"Look, we'll talk about that later, alright? We must find her first before all of that."

"Well then," Vision spoke, "when do we begin?"

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

Author’s Note

Welcome to the prologue! I was going to end it after Wanda said (y/n), but the next part doesn’t fit in chapter 1 at all, so here it is. I don’t show it in the moodboard, but Steve and Tony will play a big role in (y/n)’s life as Pietro did!

I’m actually excited about this story, but I don’t know when I will post chapter 1. It depends on reader’s interest rating; whether there are people who actually want this or not. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time by writing something that no one reads anyway. So if you’re interested and want this story to actually continue, let me know!

[sundropscribbles]

Not Her | Ten x Reader | 5.4k

A brand new story for everyone, but mostly for @starflight4842!

You’re an absolute angel for being so patient with me, of course. Apologies are a common occurrence with me, obviously, but I hope this little drabble lives up to your expectations! Thank you. ✦

Things don’t go to plan.  

Not that it’s all that much of a surprise; things hardly ever went to plan when it came to your adventures with The Doctor. It was the opposite way around on most occasions, in fact, and on a normal day, you didn’t count that as a problem. You had quickly become accustomed to the idea that there would be an inevitable threat looming around every corner — you had been traveling with The Doctor for a couple of months, now, but that particular detail hadn’t taken you more than a couple of days onboard the TARDIS to figure out.  Today’s outing had gone especially awry, though, even by comparison to the thrills and chills that had become your every day life. 

The creatures that you had had the, er… pleasure of encountering today had been less than hospitable, putting it lightly.  The Doctor had been raving all morning long about this little planet he’d been planning a visit to, going off on tangents about the sights that you would see and the wonders you would behold there — all the usual. Apparently those wonders included a waterfall three-times the size of anything you’d have seen on Earth, at the heart of something that he had referred to as the Valle de la Luna. 

“Valley of the Moon,” he had translated for you, even though you had been fairly certain that you knew what the name meant. “Absolutely beautiful. Bit vague, though — there are 3,860 moons at this end of the universe alone. Should really’ve thought of that when they picked the name, since it’s only meant to be named for one of those moons. Xelraeria 34, to be exact.”

You, of course, had tuned out when he had started waffling on about the particular moon that the valley was named after. You didn’t think you could be blamed, not really — The Doctor was hard to keep up with, both physically and mentally, on the best of days, and you would be seeing everything that he had talked about shortly anyhow. Surely you weren’t missing much. And if you were, well — The Doctor would certainly be the first to let you know. 

You had traipsed on out of the TARDIS and into the open atmosphere of this planet (called Aarmis, apparently) expecting to be met with one of the many sights that The Doctor had talked about. To your surprise, it had been fairly barren to start — well. Not barren. It was greener than green, just the way The Doctor had described it, and the expanse of thick, green grass was speckled with what looked to be some breed of wildflower, similar to something that you might have found back on Earth. This scenery had been what stretched on for miles, and while it was utterly breathtaking, it was definitely lacking the gargantuan waterfalls and the Lagoons and the rocky cliffs that The Doctor had implied would be present. When you had voiced your confusion, however, he had informed you that the Valle de la Luna was quite a distance from where the TARDIS had initially landed.  You had supposed that that had made sense; there had been trails, after all, paths here and there and everywhere that appeared to spiderweb off in a number of different directions, and there had looked to be mountains — or something similar to mountains, at the very least — in the distance. 

There had been a stretch of walking from that point onward which had consumed roughly an hour, maybe and hour and a half’s time, and had consisted mostly of you asking questions about the planet’s history to distract yourself from the ache in your calves and the cramps in the soles of your feet. The Doctor had been answering those questions in as much detail as he could; in fact, he had just begun to explain the structure of the cliffs, the geology of the massive things and how they had come to be what they were, when your impromptu nature walk had been interrupted by a decently-sized group of the planet’s natives — or so you had thought. 

The Doctor had contradicted your first impressions near immediately, muttering to himself about how he had thought that Aarmis was still uninhabited; not because it was uninhabitable, but because it was what most beings in the universe referred to as a leisure planet. Like the national parks and day spas of the universe, he had told you once before, on one of your earliest adventures. 

Nonetheless, he had brushed off his surprise and proceeded to introduce himself to the group, just like he always did. And apparently, that had been his first mistake. 

The creatures had reacted to The Doctor’s friendly grin and forward greeting not by introducing themselves in return, but by scuttling backwards defensively and promptly drawing weapons that had looked a bit like blasters. You had recoiled on instinct, but The Doctor had been persistent in gaining the creatures’ trust.

“Oi, c’mon now, boys. No need for any of that,” he had said, and had then proceeded to  reach into his suit pocket (for his psychic paper, more than likely) — his second mistake.  These beings were especially tetchy, evidently, because they had jumped to the conclusion that The Doctor was reaching for a weapon of his own, and hadn’t hesitated a second before jumping on the offensive and subduing the two of you. 

  You had yelped and squirmed as two or three of the aliens had restrained you, twisting one of your arms and then the other behind your back and rendering you incapable of using them at all. They had been humanoid, definitely, but they looked to be made of rock, which — obviously — meant that being gentle wasn’t exactly in their nature. They had struck the backs of your knees, too, which had effectively forced you into a kneeling position in the dirt. 

“Doctor?” you had squeaked, confused and afraid as the scene had unfolded. He had looked to be in a predicament similar to your own, but his gaze had been as reassuring as ever as he had looked over the shoulders of his own crowd of hostile aliens to meet your eyes, so you had tried not to be too concerned. The creatures were intent on making certain that he wouldn’t pose any threat to them, right?  Maybe they would cool off once they realized that you were only here for a vacation, just like everyone else. 

The scuffle had gone on, and to your dismay, had seemed to get worse the more that The Doctor attempted to explain your side of things. One of the creatures had cut him off mid-explanation to say — or to roar, more like — that Aarmis was the property of the Klojfio, and that there were no tourists here; only the Klojfio and the quarry. It was certainly out of line with everything that he had told you about this world, and to make matters worse, the Klojfio didn’t seem to be a race whom he was familiar with in the least. Even in your very limited experience, it was never a good sign when The Doctor wasn’t immediately familiar with his surroundings.

Your mind had begun to reel from that point onward, wrapping question over question and weaving a nauseating panic into the mix as you had knelt there, with gravel cutting into your knees and a blaster just a few inches from the back of your head. In your defense, you were still fairly new to all of this. You knew a fair bit about ducking and running from one alien species or another, and a bit more about smiling and laughing and playing along with the charades that The Doctor so often used to talk the two of you out of harm’s way, because they usually went over a bit better than this. Much better than this. 

This was the first and only time that you could recall that things had spiraled out of control so quickly, and it had terrified you. It wasn’t too often that The Doctor wasn’t able to sway things in his favor near immediately, and you’d had trouble seeing a way out of the frightening situation. 

It’d all worked out in the end, of course.  As it happened, The Doctor was much more familiar with this kind of situation than you were, which, really — you definitely should have expected. He had been able to formulate an escape plan within moments of your capture, and had made a noise under his breath to draw your attention not two minutes after the creatures had drug you to your feet, growling something about bringing you back to their base for “a proper feast” (which you suspected didn’t have anything to do with feeding you). 

The Klojfio hadn’t bound his arms behind his back the way they had yours, and unfortunately for them, he had been able to tuck a discreet hand into his pocket to retrieve his sonic screwdriver.  As soon as he had your attention he waggled the device in between his fingers and nodded to his left, toward one of the blasters being used to subdue the two of you.  You hadn’t understood immediately, not until he had mouthed a single word to you: “disable”. 

It had hit you, then, what he was going to do, and you had nodded your head frantically, immediately onboard.  These aliens were large and angry-looking, sure, but that was about all they had going for them as intimidation went.  They were made of rock and considerably strong, yeah, but they didn’t seem to have fangs or claws or anything else that could pose a threat to you once you were an arm’s length away. The assumption was that they wouldn’t be overly threatening without the use of their weapons, and all you had been able to do in the moment was hope that that assumption was correct. 

It had been, to an extent. You had heard the quiet buzz of the sonic screwdriver, first, and then a chorus of hollow clicks from the Klojfio’s blasters.  They had all been momentarily startled and distracted by the sound, and you and The Doctor had seized the opportunity to duck out of the creatures’ slackened grip and take off running back the way you had come. 

“Terribly sorry to ruin dinner, fellas, but I’m not much feeling up to being boiled and fed to the masses,” he had shouted as you had run, and you had smiled, because there it was. The clever, cunning snark. The quick wits. “Frankly, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt up to that!” 

The initial rush of adrenaline and your amusement had kept you running, keeping pace with The Doctor nicely, but the relief that you had felt upon escaping hadn’t lasted long.  You had gotten away, yeah, but you were still miles from the TARDIS with little to nothing in the way of places to take cover.  It was a matter of time before the Klojfio caught up to you, wasn’t it?  You had said as much to The Doctor, but he had reassured you that there was no need to worry; the TARDIS had a homing device, apparently, and when given the signal she could find him no matter where he was in the universe. 

He had gotten on with giving that signal as he had explained it to you, pointing his sonic into midair and hitting the button a few times in quick succession. 

“She’ll find us,” he had said as he had tucked the screwdriver back into the pocket of his coat and kept on, never for a second looking unsure of himself. What had followed had been a few more minutes of running with the Klojfio hot on your heels (for creatures made of stone they were quick, damn it), and desperately hoping that the TARDIS would meet you in the middle soon. 

You had just begun to feel like you might make it out of Aarmis alive when things had taken another nasty turn; a nasty turn in the form of a rogue patch of grass, dead in the middle of the path you’d been following. The Doctor had managed to dodge it, but you hadn’t seen it in time, and it had caught the toe of your shoe and sent you tumbling through the dirt. 

The fall itself had been enough to shake your focus, but your misfortune hadn’t stopped there. To top it off, one of the Klojfio had gotten its blaster working again, and the next thing you had felt was a horrible shock of pain, radiating from your right shoulder outward.  A part of you knew that you had been hit, hard, and that putting additional stress on your body by running probably wasn’t the best thing to do in the moment, but you didn’t let it stop you.

It would have been worse, after all, if you had allowed yourself to be captured by the hostile creatures determined to make a meal of you, and so you had scrambled to your feet and taken off running once more.  Trouble was, your fall had disoriented you enough that you had bolted down the wrong path — not that it was any more dangerous than the original. It may not have been much different from the trail you had followed into Aarmis, but it had definitely taken you in a completely different direction than The Doctor. 

You had heard him call out your name as you had run, but by that time you were well off the beaten path, and the fear and adrenaline burning beneath your skin wouldn’t have allowed you to turn back if you’d wanted to. You were vaguely aware of the heavy footsteps chasing after you — the Klojfio — so you had kept on, running and running until you were sure your lungs would burst and your legs would buckle from beneath you, until — a tree. 

A patch of trees, actually, just off the trail.  

Your first instinct had been to veer toward them, and you had followed it, tearing through the tall green grass with one palm pressed to your wounded shoulder.  Could the Klojfio climb trees? Would they simply shoot you down from your perch if you climbed up into one of the trees?  You couldn’t say for sure.  There was nothing certain about this mess you were in, and you hadn’t climbed a tree since primary school, but you had gathered every ounce of your strength and leapt up to grasp at a low branch, anyways. 

The tree you had chosen hadn’t offered much for climbing, in the end. You had been able to scale the trunk one, maybe two branches higher from the ground before there had been nothing else that you could reach, and you were effectively trapped.  Your assumption that the creatures wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you out of the tree had been correct, too, because it wasn’t another moment before they were firing freely, aiming their blasters and shooting into the leaves that only barely concealed you.  Round after round grazed you, close enough that you felt them whiz by, but you had managed to avoid them (thank god for that— the wound you were harboring from the first one was beginning to sting like nobody’s business, and you couldn’t say you were keen on the idea of having any more of them to tend to).  

Another few shots from the Klojfio’s blasters had caused you to shuffle where you’d stood, and you had nearly lost your balance more than a few times.  The next blast had done it — one of the creatures had damn good aim, apparently, because it had landed a shot right at your feet, and your attempt to protect yourself from the fire had sent you sliding and flailing as your feet went out from under you.  You had hit the ground fairly hard and twisted one of your ankles in the process, which had been evident the moment that you had tried to pick yourself up and take off running again. 

With your feet having gone uselessly out from beneath you a second time and the angry, stone creatures advancing on you, you had made a half-hearted attempt to shield your face — as though that would somehow protect you against the aliens’ hungry rage — and braced yourself.  You had just begun coming to terms with the fact that you were well and truly doomed when the familiar, rumbling grind of the TARDIS’s engine had come thundering onto the scene, effectively startling the Klojfio long enough that there was a window of opportunity for you to make an escape. Or, well — for The Doctor to come hurrying out of the TARDIS and scoop you up into his arms. 

“Yeh, sorry, you’re not getting her either. Not today,” he had grumbled, more to himself than anyone else as he had hurried back toward the TARDIS once more, giving a quick snap of his fingers to close the doors hard and fast behind the pair of you as soon as you were inside. 

You had barely had time to process what had just happened — let alone the fact that he was holding you, carrying you through the console room — before he was scolding you. Well, no, not exactly scolding you so much as expressing his concern… passionately. 

“Blimey, Y/N, you had me scared stiff!” he’d admonished you, but had given you a little squeeze, just a ghost of a thing, before he had laid you down lengthwise across the bench beside the console — where you were now.  “Don’t run off — that’s rule number one, you know that!” 

The Klojfio were persistent, still, pounding and clawing at the doors of the TARDIS, so The Doctor had taken pause in caring for you and run to the console, rushing about hitting this button and that to get you away from Aarmis.  You weren’t sure where you would wind up, exactly, and if you were being quite honest, you didn’t think that he knew either. It didn’t matter, though; what mattered was that you were both out of the way of immediate danger.  Even if you wound up smack in the middle of space somewhere, not a planet or moon or an asteroid in sight, it would be better than where you had just come from. 

He returned to your side, eventually, once the clawing and the pounding had ceased and the TARDIS’s engines had settled, and crouched down beside you to have a look, first thing, at the damage to your ankle.

“You know, in my defense, I was being — ouch — chased,” you argue, hissing mid-sentence as he prodded at your injured ankle with long, cool fingers, rotating it from one side to the other.  He scoffs at that, clearly doing his best for a good few moments to remain annoyed with you. It doesn’t hold very long, though, and his smile betrays him, eventually, as he spares you a quick glance before returning his attention to your ankle. 

“Alright, so it wasn’t entirely your fault,” he admits begrudgingly, leaning back a bit and shrugging out of his long coat in favor of balling it up and lodging it beneath your ankle as a makeshift pillow. You smile at that, making your best effort to ignore the flutter in your chest as he turns his focus on your wounded shoulder. 

You hadn’t really taken the time to look at it in the heat of things, but you can’t very well help stealing a look as The Doctor very gently moves the sleeve of your top aside, taking care to remove any of the burnt bits from the worst of the wound.  It did, in fact, look more like a burn than anything else, which was both a blessing and a curse. It didn’t seem that there were any bullets for you to worry about removing, but it was painful - extremely painful, as burns tended to be. 

You bit back a whimper as he went about exposing the wound to the open air, and he winced along with you as he ran one careful fingertip along the angry red edge of it.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, shaking his head a bit. “So sorry.  Your ankle is definitely just sprained, but this is a nasty burn.  Bloody pulse phasers.  Don’t worry, though, we’ll get you patched up.” 

Before you have the chance to respond he disappears from beside you, hurrying into another room to collect some first aide supplies (or so you hoped, anyways).  You take the moment of alone time to allow yourself a full-fledged reaction to your condition, which comes in the form of a loud groan, muffled against the crook of one elbow.  Your frustration is directed not only at the pain of your injuries, but at the embarrassment, too.  You had really, really thought that you were getting better at all of this, but here you were, battered and bruised and unable to care for yourself.  How were you ever going to prove that you were worthy of traveling with The Doctor if you couldn’t keep yourself out of these kinds of situations? 

“Oh, come now, it’s not that bad, is it?” you hear him tease, and you fluster, cheeks reddening as you look up just in time to catch him sauntering back into the room with an armful of supplies — some of which you were familiar with, some not so much. 

“It is,” you mumble, still quite irritated with yourself. You can’t help but smile as he laughs, though — that bright, lively laughter has never failed to make you smile since the day you’d met him, and today is no exception.  He proceeds to kneel by your side once again, dumping his gathered supplies on the floor beside him and sweeping his unruly hair out of his face as he reaches and positions your arm so that he can tend to your shoulder properly. 

He’s as gentle as ever as he goes about cleaning up the bits of your skin that’d been burned by the blaster (or phaser, as he’d referred to it), but it still hurts like mad — not even his murmured apologies put a stop to the pain, so you busy yourself watching his expression as he works. 

It’s not the wisest decision, you know; especially not in your current predicament.  Watching The Doctor work for any length of time inevitably led to an embarrassing infatuation, to butterflies in your stomach and rushes of affection that clouded your judgement… all things that you had been trying like mad to stave off for weeks now. It was a bit difficult, though, when he was in such close proximity — and caring for you nonetheless.  His brown eyes are intense as he concentrates on his task which, now, has gone from cleaning up your wound to applying some sort of a balm (a numbing agent, it seemed), to a larger area of your arm than was probably necessary. 

You’ve just begun to allow yourself to enjoy the gentle way he’s touching you, to believe that maybe, maybe you could mention the way you felt about him without it taking a violent turn toward disastrous, when he speaks up and promptly proves you wrong. 

“Don’t dwell on it too much,” he says, and you blink yourself out of your stupor, tilting your head as he meets your eyes. “You’re still quite new to all of this, after all.  Something similar happened with Rose a long, long time ago.  Only it was about a hundred times worse, and we wound up trapped, hiding out in this cave — a cave, Y/N. Musty air, drippy icicles hanging from the ceiling — the whole lot.”  

The story doesn’t stop there.  He goes on detailing the experience that he had had with Rose, on another planet, in another time, and whatever hope you had been feeling fizzles out. The color drains from your face, as it so often does, and you sit there in silence, humming acknowledgments every now and then as he talks animatedly about the cave, and the snowstorm, and the glacial aliens that had wanted to crown Rose the leader of their species.  

This wasn’t the first time you’d had your hopes crushed, of course, but that doesn’t mean that it stings any less when he looks you in the eye, one hand holding yours steady while the other goes about nimbly placing a bandage upon your shoulder, and talks animatedly about his previous companion.  It had never been quite clear to you whether she had been his companion or his girlfriend, though, and it was times like this that you began to think that it was definitely, definitely the latter. 

It’s quite some time before you really tune back in to what he’s saying. You could offhandedly acknowledge his stories about Rose for days. You had gotten used to it, because a good majority of the time you couldn’t bring yourself to actively listen to them. Not really.  You brush off your own indifference to all of it, and think with a humorless smirk that maybe you would be better at all of this if you did listen to The Doctor’s stories. Took note of them, memorized them, tried to be more like the incredible girl he seemed to miss so much. 

“—but she was clever. So clever,” he concludes his tale, at the same time he finishes wrapping your arm with something that looks similar to gauze. It’s not gauze, though, because gauze isn’t wet, and it doesn’t adhere to your skin the way this bandaging seems to. You refocus your attention on his face once he’s gone quiet, and there’s a twinge of guilt in your heart as you realize that there’s a hint of sorrow, there, a darkness in his expression that betrays the smile he’s wearing.  You sigh, soft and resigned, and put on a smile of your own as you watch him check his work. 

“It bloody well sounds like it,” you agree, despite the fact that you had only caught maybe a quarter of what he had been talking about.  The glint of happiness in his tired eyes at your agreement is worth it, though, and in the next second he’s getting to his feet.  

You think for a split second that he’s about to walk away and leave you be, so you close your eyes and begin trying to get comfortable where you are.  The console room isn’t the most ideal resting spot, with its flashing lights and its humming and thrumming, but it’ll do — you’re not about to try and get to your bedroom with your ankle throbbing like it is, after all, and the day’s ordeal has left you knackered to your bones anyhow. 

Your effort doesn’t go very far, though, because in the next second The Doctor has scooped you up into his arms once again. You cling to him with a surprised yelp, all fluttering eyelashes and flushed cheeks once again as he cradles you against his chest and proceeds to carry you on down the hallway and into your room. Your cheek is pressed firmly to his shoulder as he walks, and you can’t help but notice the scent that clings to the fabric of his suit.  It’s not something you can describe, not exactly, but if you had to put words to it you would say that it smells like thousand-year old cologne and moon-dust. It’s obscenely distracting. 

“That old bench is no place for a good nap, Y/N,” he jokes. His voice is soft as he settles you down onto your bed, and it snaps you out of your preoccupied state in an instant.  You think you feel his thumb brush across your cheek as he straightens up, but you’re not sure whether you’ve imagined it or not, because the feeling of his arms around you has gone and scrambled your brain all over again.  You mentally kick yourself for it, reminding your flighty heart repeatedly that there’s no point in it — none. He was the object of your affections, the unfortunate focus of your primary-school crush, but he didn’t return those feelings. That was that. No blurred lines, no questions asked. 

“You get some rest, now,” you hear him say. “Gotta have you back at the top of your game for our next trip — it’ll be much, much safer, I promise. Well. Maybe not safer, not exactly — I’m not sure I can ever reasonably promise that. But it will be more fun. I can always promise fun.” 

You bite back a bit of laughter at his rambling. It’s typical of him, definitely, but more than that it sounds eerily similar to one of his half-apologies (which was another of the quirks that you had become closely acquainted with over the past few months). Thinking on that, you want to reassure him that none of what had happened on Aarmis had been his fault; he hadn’t known, after all, that there would be hostile, stoney-faced aliens waiting for you outside of the TARDIS doors. How could he have?  You keep it to yourself, though, well aware that The Doctor isn’t exactly fond of facing feelings of any sort head-on.  

“We’ll try to keep it a bit more novice next time around,” he quips as he turns to go, “Bit less climbing trees and running for our lives.  The caves and the icey fellows of the universe can always come later, after all.” 

And that — that stings. 

It was one thing to listen to him talk about her so consistently; that much was tolerable, at the very least. You would be the first to admit that it would always be hard not to take all of his talk about his beloved Rose to heart, especially considering the way that you felt about him, but it was tolerable. You could ignore it when and where you had to, and as they were, the stories weren’t actually hurtful, no matter how impossible they may have felt to live up to sometimes.  To hear him compare you to her so directly, though, and to have him outright call you a novice, of all things (even if it was true), was a bit… low.  It felt very low, and dirty — like an unbelievably cheap shot. And it left a sour taste in your mouth. 

The hopeful side of your brain (predictably) piped up near immediately with a feeble attempt to convince you that he didn’t mean it like it had sounded, but the other side, the logical side, was there to snuff that out in the next instant. How many other ways were there for him to have meant what he’d said, after all?  Sure, maybe his intention hadn’t been to hurt you with his words, but that didn’t change the way that they had landed, not in the least, and no matter how hard you try to avoid it, it all leaves you feeling very… second-rate. 

Before you really come back to yourself, The Doctor turns and ambles out of your room. He makes another offhanded comment about your next maybe-adventure, the next planet you might or might not be visiting once you were up and moving again, but you don’t hear it. You dismiss it entirely, in fact, as you roll onto your side with a huff and a groan, and fight to ignore the sting of angry tears in your eyes. You squeeze your eyes shut stubbornly as you turn your back to the bedroom door, and you vehemently ignore the sound of The Doctor’s distracted pacing as it echoes from the console room. 

As you lie there, you do your damndest to beat it into your brain that this won’t get to you; it won’t, damn it, you won’t let it.  It’s useless in the end, though, even despite all of your determination. Because in the end, you still find yourself lying there with a sprained ankle, a nasty burn, and wet eyes, wondering all the while if you were ever going to be anything to him. A friend, a companion, a partner in crime, a lover, a fling —  anything other than not her.  And when all was said and done, if someone had asked you to make an educated guess? You seriously doubted it.  

[dbphantom]

[inhales] fuck it junpai-7 time

I feel apathetic instead of anxious so here’s a ~bit~ from the H2O AU. It’s a good scene with Clay and Zane (and Quietfoot). Personally, I like the bar scene too (takes place 2 scenes before this one) but the intro to that one is kinda self-indulgent and I am not a brave enough boy for that yet. Listen, I’ll be honest, I picked this scene a) because there’s like no H2O content outside a few throwaway lines and you solely borderlands folk can enjoy it without needing to understand the Deep Merfolk Lore and b) I never write fight scenes and I’m proud of it. I know how can a person write borderlands fanfics and not be comfortable writing fight scenes, I’m such a heathen.

Anyway. Context? Uhhh, this is in the past. Meant to elaborate on that one line about Clay and Zane crossing paths on a smuggling job on Junpai-7 (a water planet). I thought it’d be funny if it turned out they were on opposite sides of the job. I’m also a big fan of a one Cutlord Karuu being the resident pirate queen. Because pirates are cool and her name is kickass.

“Where the..?”

Clay blinked open his eyes at the whisper, tried to move his hands to his throbbing head, and realized he was tied up. Yup, if he wasn’t awake before, he was definitely awake now. And, apparently, sitting on the deck of his ship, tied up against the mast, with nothing but the wide expanse of Junpai’s ocean surrounding it.

Well, damn. That wasn’t good.

He pulled against the binds, but they didn’t give- weren’t even in a position to grab so he could untie them. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.

“The hell’s going on?” He snapped at the disembodied muttering, shaking his head to get the exhaustion out. He’d been drugged, and he always hated that. “Domino, you there?”

The same whirring as earlier returned and Clay finally got to see the source- a small drone hovered before him, chirping merrily and spinning in circles.

“Zoomer? Oh! He’s up!”

A figure moved into view and Clay blinked, because he recognized him. The stranger from the bar a week ago. He was still around?

“Hello again! So sorry about this, didn’t think you’d be the one I had to target. But, hey, remember, I promised- no killing!” He showed his hands, free of any weapon, and grinned.

“What the hell, man, I bought you a drink. Where’s Domino?”

“Domino? Oh, the one on the dock? He’s still there, I think. I took us out to sea so the other two couldn’t come back yet. Don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon!”

“What are you here for? It part of that contract?” Clay had a pretty good idea. The one thing every spot of trouble they’d encountered lately was after.

Zane nodded, opening the lid on a crate next to the cabin door and poking around inside. “Yeah, yeah. From a one Cutlord Karuu. Sure you’ve heard of her.”

Clay groaned, leaning his head back against the mast. “Yeah. Pirate queen. She’s been keeping an eye on our ring for ages. Whatever she wants, we don’t have it.” He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced to look at what it could be.

Quietfoot was perched up on the sails, crouched and following the man below. He held up the alien compass they were supposed to be dropping off in Mariejois and put a finger to his lips.

Clay returned his sight back to the intruder. “So, what are you looking for?”

Zane sighed. “Ah, you know, a small, little, bobbly alien thing. Points north. What’s the word?” He paused in his searching, putting the lid on the crate down and leaning on it. “Actually, it doesn’t point north. Supposed to point to a Vault Key. You know, one of those things everyone’s losing their minds over these days? I don’t get it. But the actual ones point north.”

The hitman frowned and scowled at the drone as it bobbed around the ship, mouthing something to himself.

Clay watched, confused and slightly worried he had noticed Quietfoot above them.

“COMPASS!”

Clay jumped and whispered a quiet curse. “What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry, sorry. Remembered-”

Thump.

The two stopped and looked over to see what the noise was. The Eridian compass was spiraling in a small circle, and the two watched it fall without saying a thing.

“… Huh,” Zane finally managed, and looked up at the sky. “Didn’t think I had that pow-”

Quietfoot landed on top of him, sending him to the floor, and snatched the compass back, stashing it in his digistruct pack.

“Holy-! Where did you come from?” Zane asked after he got his breath back, pushing himself up off the deck with a cough.

Quietfoot had already pulled out his shotgun, and he fired it in response.

Zane’s shield took the brunt of it, a few pellets hitting the wall behind him, and he smirked despite the breath being taken away from him again. “You don’t talk much? That’s fine, I can cover for both of us!”

He tossed out a small disc that landed at Clay’s feet, which then projected another, flashier shield.

“What the hell?” Clay demanded, struggling to get out of his binds in order to help his partner.

“Get it?” Said Zane, hands on his knees as he laughed. “’Cover’? Ah, you guys are a tough crowd.”

Quietfoot pulled the trigger again and the barrier absorbed the blast, burning pellets falling around Clay. He felt lucky he was wearing his leathers today.

Zane grabbed the barrier from midair with a button press and bolted towards the rogue, bashing him with it while the man reloaded. He dropped his shotgun and Zane kicked it away, letting it bounce off the railing of the ship and skid across the deck.

“Come on, just give it up! Don’t make me hurt you!” He got a look at the man’s bloodied nose as Quietfoot steadied himself. “Uh, more. Don’t make me hurt you more! … So sorry about that- you seem like a cool fella.”

Clay glanced down at the electronic disc at his feet, then the flashy light shield, and had an idea. He lifted up his left boot and smashed it down on the thing, watching the sparks fly. The barrier Zane held fizzled out of existence for a split second. The hitman seemed surprised, turning his head to see what was going on with his tech.

“I- hey, I just got that fixed! Quit it!”

Clay grinned. He did it again, just as Quietfoot reared back for a sucker punch to the man’s jaw. The barrier vanished moments before his fist reached Zane’s face. He staggered back from the blow, blinking rapidly and touching the blood now dripping from his split lip. “Ow! What was that for? I’m trying not to kill you!”

Quietfoot lunged for his shotgun while Zane was distracted, finishing the reload from his crouched position on the deck.

“Shite,” Zane muttered when he finally looked up, as his barrier still hadn’t returned after Clay reacquainted his foot with the projector. He pulled out another device and pressed the button on its side, and then there were two of him standing side-by-side.

Clay blinked.

Quietfoot blinked.

One of the Zanes grinned and the other one waved.

“What the…” Clay managed. “How many tricks do you have?”

“Enough,” said one, and Quietfoot pulled the trigger on him.

The deck behind him gained a nice fourteen hole pattern, with splinters to boot.

“You know,” said the other, “we don’t have to do it like this. You can just give me the compass and we’ll all go on our merry ways! I’ll even untie you, Clay,” he said, turning his head to grin at him.

Quietfoot whirled around, pointing the barrel of his gun at the talking one and keeping an eye on the other, who was studying him, just in case.

The other opened their mouth to speak and Quietfoot took no chances, quickly firing off his gun. That one stumbled back, shield audibly breaking from the hit. “… Ow!” He wheezed, doubled over from the blow to his stomach. “That’s gonna bruise tomorrow.”

Quietfoot had reloaded while Zane was lamenting over his new injury, and lifted his gun to shoot once more. The hitman looked up and suddenly- instantly- he was standing straight, glaring at the other man.

No, Clay realized. That was the clone- the dude could switch places with it. Oh, now, that was just unfair. And also explained a lot.

“That’s the double!” He warned Quietfoot, who nodded, quickly removing his finger from the trigger, and turned to face the real one. But the original was gone, having dashed off somewhere while his attacker was distracted.

“So,” came a whisper from next to Clay, taking cover behind the mast from Quietfoot’s shotgun. “What do you see in this guy? I mean, not to be rude, but he’s not very hospitable, is he? Or did I do somethin’? ‘Cause, honest, no hard feelings here- just work.”

Clay’s head whipped around to see Zane standing with his back against the mast, peering out from behind it. “What in the- how did you-? Damn it, man, if you’re going to scare me, at least let me fight back first!”

“Oh,” he sucked in a quick breath through his teeth. “No can do. I’m trying to not kill you guys, remember?” He snapped his fingers and his drone buzzed down from its place above them, settling on his shoulder with a small wiggle. “You can play dead, though! It’s like a game!”

Quietfoot had advanced on them while they were talking and Zane grinned at Clay when the man rounded the mast. “Gotta go!”

“Quit running!” Clay yelled, struggling against his binds and kicking his feet as Zane darted out onto the deck again.

“Hell no! He’s got a gun!” The Hitman laughed.

Quietfoot sighed and re-rounded the mast, entirely done with the intruder and stopping first to assess Clay’s whole situation. At the moment, Zane was no threat, just a nuisance.

“You want help?” He asked.

“Holy shite,” Zane said, popping up next to them. “He can talk? For real?”

Quietfoot shot him, but it didn’t do much since the man simply teleported away and popped back up behind him seconds later, leaning over his shoulder.

“Wow! I can’t believe you can actually talk,” Zane rambled with a grin as Quietfoot undid Clay’s binds. “Do you just not like to, or is it something I said? Because I was asking Clay earlier if it was something I said and I’m just not sure. This whole thing we’ve got going on right now is only work, you get that, right? When I’m done with my contract, we should all get a drink together. You all seem like a pretty cool group of fellas. Like your friend, Domino! I remembered. Haven’t met the other two, but they seem neat. I like your shapeshifter- I know what that’s like. Must be cool to do it on command.” He paused momentarily, brain seeming to catch up with his mouth as he blinked. “Uh, I know what the tricking people’s like. Not the- not the other thing. So, what do you say?”

Clay pulled his hands loose and rubbed his wrists with a quiet mutter of thanks, then pulled his pistol from his digistruct pack as he stood. Quietfoot readied his shotgun and the two turned to face Zane, who looked particularly dumbfounded.

“Is that a ‘no’ to the drinks?”

“Listen, man,” Clay said, pulling the hammer down on his pistol and pointing it at him as he backed up towards the railing. “You’ve got three seconds to sit down and shut up, or else things are going to get really, really bad for you. I like your style, don’t get me wrong,” he admitted, “but nobody messes with my crew. And, here’s the thing: I think I don’t want to see your brains lying on my deck, so sit the hell down while we get this ship back to port.”

“Alright,” Zane said, raising his hands above his head with a grin. He held his clone’s device in one hand, and his silver digistruct pack in the other. “You got me.”

Clay glanced down at the man’s hip, because he could have sworn his digistruct pack was black.

… It was.

That wasn’t his.

Quietfoot cursed from beside him and began reloading his shotgun, pack blatantly missing from his belt. Clay understood, then, why the man didn’t stop Quietfoot from untying him and instead decided to talk nonsense. He went to take the shot for his partner, but the stupid drone flew over and latched onto his arm, throwing off his aim.

“Kidding. I was kidding!” Zane tossed his digiclone device into his own pack and saluted them with two fingers and a grin, hopping backwards onto the railing and balancing there for a moment. “This was fun! Seriously, let’s get together later!”

“What the hell are you doing? Get off that!” Clay yelled, still struggling to get the robot off of him. “Don’t be an idiot!”

Going overboard on Junpai-7 was a death sentence- everybody who lived and worked here knew that. But the hitman? He was just some stranger from Pandora. He’d have no idea the consequences. And Clay did, admittedly, have a soft spot for the guy, despite his thievery and overly talkative personality; he wanted to make him pay a little, maybe even recruit him into the rogues when all was said and done, not watch him get brutally ripped apart by sea kings and flash whirlpools.

But Zane didn’t seem to care about what Clay said. He looked him in the eye, did a dramatic, sweeping bow, and dropped backwards with a grin and a whistle.

The bot relinquished its death grip on Clay’s arm and flung itself over the railing of their ship with reckless abandon. The clone, too, vanished after a second, as did the broken barrier disc lying forgotten on the deck beside a smattering of bullet holes.

The two rogues were left staring at the place the man was standing, until Clay broke their stupor by rushing to the railing and leaning over.

There was nothing in the black waves.

Clay had half expected them to be pink with blood, or at least see the hitman struggling to stay afloat in the brutal current, but it was like he had vanished into thin air. What, was this another one of his tricks?

“Stay alert,” Clay told Quietfoot, who nodded. “Don’t know where he went.”

“That’s just great. He better not still be on the ship- I’ll blow his damn head open. Now we’re out twenty mil and all my guns. Sorry, Clay, I should’ve untied you sooner. Might’ve been able to get the bastard at the start if we were both up and at ‘em.”

Clay shook his head. “He was a real crafty son of a bitch, don’t feel bad. ‘Sides, one of those Vault Hunting bastards was bound to be strong enough to get what they wanted eventually.” He sighed, putting his pistol away. “Domino was right, it’s probably for the best we don’t get involved in all this alien stuff. Maybe twenty mil is a small price to pay to learn that.”

“Maybe,” said Quietfoot, looking out at the water. “May-be.”

[cellard0ors]

Fic: the beginning is the end is the beginning

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved, Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Pairing: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej

Warning: Apocalyptic!End!Of!The!World stuff, mentions of dead people, mass suicides

Summary:  The Titans have returned. The world has ended. The Ghoul Boys are still here.

Notes:   HO-KAY. This is dedicated to @theawfuledges, who has always been super sweet, super supportive, and who had a bad day a while back and deserved something then but I. Take. FOREVER.

Inspired by this sorta-not-really-prompt-post and also the fact that @theawfuledges seems to also enjoy Godzilla. This is the Shyan!Godzilla!AU NO one asked for and probably NO one will care about - but! I had fun writing it enough that I’d consider coming back to it at some point - I mean, why not, amiright?

Anyway - excuse all my philosophizing about the end of the world via Titans and enjoy…

AO3 Link

They’ve been walking through the wasteland for almost an hour now and Shane can still feel Ryan’s eyes on his back. He ignores it, as he’s been ignoring it. He’s even whistled a tuneless song on and off during their walk, just to rub it in. A sort of reminder that he’s oblivious and doesn’t know Ryan’s trying to burn a hole through him. I mean, he does know, but it’s just…it’s too funny.

Ryan is always too funny when’s worked up into a snit. No, not funny…cute. Something Shane probably shouldn’t think about, but think he does. The best way to try to not think about it? Antagonize the little guy. So antagonize he does, finally stopping in their rambles to squat down at a larger than usual rock he’s kicked at.

It didn’t make him stumble exactly, but it caught his attention enough to make him stop and bend down. He tosses the smooth white stone around in one palm, grinning, “Well, well, well…ain’t you a nifty lookin’ fella…”

He stands back up, fully aware that Ryan has stopped a few feet behind him and is still glaring. Hell, he’s probably reached seething at this point. Balled up fists shaking at his sides and the mere idea of that imagery – the utter adorableness of it – breaks Shane’s resolve, “What?”

“Really?!” Ryan finally explodes and his voice cracks over the word and Jesus, the guy is too goddamn precious for words, “A rock?! That’s what catches your attention?!”

“Sure! This baby could be a geode! Just need to crack ‘er open and see if she sparkles!” Shane returns as he waggles the stone in Ryan’s direction, lips curled in a devious smile. He finally turns to look behind him and see Ryan and oh, no.

Shane wants to press a hand to his heart. Ryan has moved beyond cute, beyond adorable, beyond precious. He’s reached that level where it takes all of Shane’s willpower not to dart right over and kiss the breath out of him as Ryan cries, “I’ve been shooting death daggers at you for over an hour now!”

“Have you?”

“Yes, you monumental jackass! And I know you know it!”

Shane can only chuckle and Ryan frantically waves his arms about, “It’s been weeks now and we still have yet to talk about it! We just go out for recons, talk banal shit, and you – you stop for a fucking pebble instead of doing what you should do!”

Shane merely raises his eyebrows, that question enough and Ryan comes closer, breath all huffy and puffy and the perfect representation of a temper tantrum in human form, “Which is give me the world’s biggest fucking apology!”

“…for?”

“FOR?!” Another word cracked by hysteria, “Being right! Monsters exist! Or is this-” Ryan yet again waves about, waves around at the miles and miles of baked, orange earth and uprooted, long dead trees. The rubble of buildings long since lost, the endless expanse of nothing but baseless destruction – “-not proof enough for you?!”

Shane just dips the rock in Ryan’s direction like it’s the tip of a pointer, “Never said monsters weren’t real. I said ghosts weren’t,” he draws the rock back and continues walking, voice very sage, “And that continues to be a fact." He turns away and starts walking again, "Now the Titans? Oh man, those boys are flesh and blood. Meat and bone. Just like Bigfoot and hey, do you think-?”

“…stop it…”

Shane turns to look at him again even as he continues walking backwards, “-Bigfoot is a Titan?”

Ryan only stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. His earlier anger has finally spooled out of him thanks to his outburst, leaving only his normal Shane-oriented exhaustion, “I mean, he’s no Godzilla or Gidroah-”

“Ghidorah.”

“Hmm?”

Ryan’s tone is bone weary, “You said it wrong. It’s Ghidorah.”

Shane just waves a hand like it’s no big deal and Ryan stands up a little taller, clearly offended by the gesture. Perfectionist. Shane is pretty sure his smile is never going to leave, “Whatever. But Bigfoot…he can hang with the big boys, right?”

“I don’t think Bigfoot is capable of leveling Los Angeles which, news flash, is what happened when Godzilla and the other Titans trampled through!”

“It was their world first, pal,” is his amicable response, “We just have to do our best to live with it.”

Ryan looks less than pleased at that revelation and Shane can’t blame him. Still…

Finally Shane sobers, stopping to look at Ryan with all due seriousness, “Ryan…”

He doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t have to. Ryan just gives his own subdued head bob because, well, it’s the truth. They do have to do their best to live with it. What else can they do? They have no power over creatures taller than skyscrapers. Ancient beasts on par with living gods. The human race did what it could. It wasn’t enough. But – to be fair – what could they do?

Humanity always likes to think of itself as the top tier – nothing bigger, nothing brighter, nothing stronger. And within the span of a few weeks that was proven horribly untrue. Frankly, Shane always knew it would be – humility is something every living being should possess and a lot of humanity lost that long ago – but frankly, he’d been banking on aliens.

Not big ol’ monsters.

Regardless, they are where they are. In a world where massive creatures walk the earth and humans have been knocked down several pegs. Pegs that have to scurry out shelter and he and Ryan found it. They reach it now – an underground bunker dug deep into the earth by god knows who.

The first time they’d found the little hide-ho they’d intended to merely use it for one night, sure that the original owners would appear. But they didn’t. Night after night passed and no one came to claim the bunker – so Shane decided they should claim it for themselves. Hell, they took a bridge from a Goatman and made it their own – why not a bunker?

Hence why it’s colorful name –  ‘The Goatman’s Bunker’. He’d even made a sign to that effect once they’d managed to scrounge up some paper and workable pens. Funny the things you find littered amongst the refuse. Like his cool new rock – which he now sets alongside other treasures he’s found in their travels. A kid’s beat up plastic car, a broken snow globe, a crushed cup advertising Disneyland (long since gone – a collectible now!), and other debris he found of interest.

Ryan takes off his backpack and reaches inside, digging out various goodies they scavenged today. Dented bottles of water (always a god send), band-aids, several tin cans of vegetables and meats, scraped bottles with unreadable labels and anything else he could shove in.

They’re both pretty sure they’d come across the ruins of some pharmacy today – maybe a CVS or Walgreens or something – but neither could be certain. But there had certainly been a nicer haul than usual. Some days they walked out into the wasteland and found nothing for miles but old car parts and the occasionally, questionable collection of garbage.

Sometimes…sometimes they found worse things…

Both of them tried their best not to think of those things. Awful, sad things. Dead things. Crushed things. They had a radio in the bunker and there was the occasional chatter, but mostly? Mostly the world was silent. Funny how quickly a world, its people, its governments – could fall apart in the face of something it couldn’t understand.

There was word of massive suicide sites. Places where religious fanatics scrambled, unable to comprehend a world in which something their God couldn’t have possibly made appeared. There was word of places where ground born militias formed. People bloodthirsty for revenge, willing to do whatever they have to, to fight back, to rage against the sky – against forces beyond their control. There has been a lot of different word…but nothing that really concerns the two of them.

At least not for now.

For now?

For now the Ghoul Boys have their Goatman’s Bunker and a questionable collection of cans that will provide tonight’s sustenance.

What Shane wouldn’t give for a can opener. He’s gotten pretty good at stabbing cans open with the knife he has, but sometimes tiny metal shavings still end up in their meals. Tonight is no exception. He stabs away at a few cans, digs out what he can on to broken plates they’d found. Broken, a little chipped – but surprisingly in pretty good condition.

The food, however, is mush. Shane scoops up a bit with his fingers and licks at it, wincing as the taste, “Think this is chickpeas…or maybe hominy…”

“Those two things are very different.”

“Oh, sorry Paul Prudhomme – what’s your expansive palate telling you?”

Ryan’s nose wrinkles even as he takes his own bite, “Um…peaches?”

“Pe-?” Shane can’t even finish, laughing, because this sure as shit isn’t peaches. As is his way, Ryan looks charmingly flummoxed, “I taste something sweet, you dipshit!”

“Well, you did just stick your fingers in your mouth, didn’t you?” Shane teases and he knows it’s on the edge of a flirt and dammit, bad idea, Shane, bad idea…

Again – as is his way – Ryan ignores it. Shane releases the breath he isn’t even aware he’s holding. Good. Ryan shouldn’t respond. Good. And yet…

Shane takes another bite of his ‘dinner’ and it’s as questionable as the last. Maybe even more so, given their last interaction. This is not the time. This is SO not the time. The world’s ended. Or, well, the world as they knew it. Now is not the time to put the moves on Ryan. It wasn’t before. It isn’t now. When will it ever-?

Never, his thoughts whisper, and Shane feels his face fall, feels an uncharacteristic moroseness take him. He polishes off what last few bites he can manage, even though he’s not hungry, and then he rubs his hands clean on the material of his dirty jeans. Not the most hygienic, true – but they can’t waste water.

He can always find some stream tomorrow – do a better job then. Say what you will about the Titans, but their returns had brought some worth while things. California was flusher with fresh streams than ever before. Glowing green plant life – plant life that, before – would have scorched – now flourishes here. It’s as if the arrival of these creatures changed the very exosphere.

He wonders how global warming looks now. Have they caused a monumental shift in it? Probably. If anything has the power to, they probably do. Fuck, they can probably grow back icebergs or something. Create new fossil fuels. God – or heh, Godzilla – knows what. Once feeling his hands are sufficiently clean, he sighs and looks over at Ryan who has started in on again on his torn, dog-eared novel.

“Thinking I’m going to hit the hay.”

Ryan blinks, “Already?”

He just shrugs, “Long day.”

“Yeah,” Ryan admits softly and Shane goes over to his sleeping bag. It’s funny, but in as much as things changed, some have stayed the same. Sleeping together in a dirty, gross shit holes? Just like old times. Except no one’s filming with plans to upload it to the internet later.

The internet. Man. Talk about something to miss. The whole world at your fingertips. Although, in a way, they now have that albeit in a much more literal sense. Shane snuggles deep into his bag and falls to sleep far quicker than he thought he would.

Ryan, for his part, continues to idly pick through his uncovered novel. It’s a pretty decent tale. Romance. Big shocker. The world is over and all he can find in the remains are old bodice rippers. But a book is a book – entertainment is pretty goddamn scarce these days. He’ll take what he can get. True, he wants to click on the radio – see if there’s any good word, any good news – but he doesn’t want to disturb Shane.

…even if the bastard won’t admit he’s wrong. And yeah, the Titans aren’t ghosts. But they are real. So, if they’re real – it’s not much of a stretch to think the same thing of ghosts.

…probably a lot more ghosts now…what with all the…

Ryan can’t even coherently string it all together. All the lives lost. Too many to even begin to contemplate. A planetwide event, a tragedy beyond bearing. And here the two of them are. Holed up in their little bunker, trying to live the best lives they can. Ryan’s a few more pages in when he hears that familiar hum.

His mouth twitches, unable to resist the smile forming.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

The sound Shane makes while he sleeps. The soft hum of his breathing. Ryan can’t even count how many times he’s fallen asleep to that sound. Clung to it when they were shooting in creepy locations. He never slept well in supposedly haunted locations…but he always slept a little better when they shared space. When he hears those sounds.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

Like the bastard laughs in his sleep. Although, the sound isn’t quite like a laugh. It just…it has that same warm sound, that rewarding quality his laughter carries. Affable, irresistible, rich and…Ryan looks down at the words on the pages of the book before him, feels his cheeks heat. He’s been reading far too much of this mushy shit. It’s messing with his thoughts. He closes the book and contemplates his options.

Sleep is probably the best among them. He looks to Shane again. Long limbs all akimbo – awkward. He fits within his cocoon and yet not. Ridiculous – those stork legs, those string bean arms…

…how would those arms feel wrapped around-?

Ryan literally tosses his book aside. All your fault, he thinks at it, even as he stands up rolls his shoulders. Okay. Calm on. Relax. Don’t be stupid. Just go to sleep.

He climbs into his own bag, which isn’t far from Shane’s. He dampens their lanterns and it’s dark, cool, quiet. He’s almost asleep when he hears it. A deep, hefty rumble. Like thunder, but worse. Far worse. Worse because no storm has this feeling behind it. This pure, volatile energy.

He sits up, his breath catching. It’s far off in the distance, but it doesn’t matter. He knows what it is. It’s one of them. His heart leaps into his throat and fear throttles him so roughly that at first he can’t move – eyes watering as the sound grows in strength.

…boom…boom…Boom…BOOM!

The last makes the ground shake and he hates the goddamn squeak that leaves him as he physical jolts. Shane (sonofabitch!) is still asleep and Jesus Christ, does this fucker sleep through everything?! Ryan rolls his bag hard to one side, closer to Shane, knocking him with enough force that Shane wakes, voice groggy with sleep, “…izzat?”

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” Ryan wishes he didn’t sound so whiny and high pitched and frantic. For fuck’s sake – he’s a grown man! But the sound of those…footsteps…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground beneath them shakes violently. Ryan’s experienced earthquakes before (California born and raised) but this is beyond that. This is as if the planet itself is coming apart. Shane sits up, even as Ryan shushes at him, tugs at him – as if somehow Shane’s sitting up, underground, in the dark, can signal the Titans above them.

Shane tilts his head this way and that – clearly doing his best to listen. To pinpoint. And then he slowly turns back to Ryan, “Hey, hey…shush, shush…they’re moving away…”

Ryan’s eyes hurt from being open so wide. Ryan’s chest hurts because his heart is beating so fast. Ryan’s…hurt. He hurts and hurts and suddenly he’s in Shane’s arms. Shane is cuddling him close, “Ry? Ryan, buddy, come on…come on! Calm down, calm down. Breathe…”

…he can’t…Ryan can’t…

“You can,” Shane intones firmly and Ryan realizes he’s said something to that effect aloud, “Ryan, breathe.”

Ryan drags in one loud, long shuddering breath. Then another. Then another. His mind briefly flickers over all he’s lost. All they’ve lost. All the friends, all the family, all the people…the world…

His wide eyes fill. Blink. Shed some tears, there and gone, and he’s still breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He curls forward some, relaxes, and he’s in Shane’s arms and they’re not quite as string bean as he thought. They have strength and weight and long fingers are stroking through his sweat damp, dark hair. Soothing it back from his forehead.

Ryan lets out a jittery wheeze, “Sorry…must think I’m a dumb ass.”

“No.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan, you’re not a dumb ass because you’re afraid.”

“You’re not.”

“Shows what you know.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan,” Now it’s Shane’s turn to sound bone weary, “We played up that shit for the show. You know that. Being scared of heroin needles and avocado pits and…and you know,” he says it so firmly, with such deep assurance that – even in the darkness of the bunker – Ryan knows he’s looking directly into his eyes, “You know I’m just as human as everybody else. That I get afraid. That I am afraid.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks and he can’t see the nod, but he knows he gets it. And Shane’s right. Of course he’s right. Ryan knows he’s right. Shane’s not any more of a dumb ass than he is. They have every right to be afraid. Everyone in the world currently is. It’s all changing. It’s all becoming new. So new that to-to be afraid of other things? Silly things? Well, that would be what would make him a dumb ass, right?

And it’s this thought that leads Ryan to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Two little balls of heat form right on the apples of his cheeks, lighting zipping up and down his spine because – holy shit – did he just say that out loud? And he can’t really see Shane in the cool darkness of the bunker. Their lanterns are out, but he can feel him. Sense him. He’s…close.

And then Shane answers.

“I don’t know…can you?”

It takes Ryan a moment to digest this response. And when he does? He fishes out his flat pillow and hopes it hits hard as he smacks right across Shane’s face, “Fuck you! You-!”

The curse is said without any real heat, but it can’t be helped, because, well – goddammit! So Ryan plans to keep on pummeling Shane until he somehow dies from pillow pummeling only for Shane to stop him. He manages to catch his pillow and stall his movements as he grunts out, “No! Hey! S-sorry, look-! I just-! I just couldn’t help myself, y’know?”

“Oh, do I?!”

“Yeah, man I mean – it was right there!” Shane damn near pleads with him, clearly feeling the opportunity was too good to pass up, “Besides, it was…it was too damned much. You asking like that…all hat in hand…”

Ryan’s struggles with the pillow cease as Shane comes…closer. He can feel him closer. The heat of him, the rush of air on his lips in the dark as Shane talks that his breathe caresses Ryan’s mouth, “But you can, Ryan.”

The last is said with such intensity that Ryan’s whole body shakes harder than when the Titans walked near them. His heart booms louder than their steps. He feels Shane hovering so close, “…I’ve wanted you to.”

A thick, noisy swallow and a very cracking, very insecure, “Yeah?”

“Mmm. Been waiting for you to.”

“R-really?”

A soft scoff, “No, actually – never thought you were interested. Never thought I’d be so lucky. But goddamn Ryan, if you are? You can kiss me and then some.”

That’s all the incentive Ryan needs. He charges forward and yes – kissing in the dark when you’re not quite sure where the other person is? Awkward. WEIRD. Ryan’s lips sort of miss Shane’s and there’s a laugh and a snort and a lot of fumbling in the pitch black dark.

But then?

Oh, then.

Then there’s lips meeting and Ryan’s thoughts splinter, his veins ignite and he’s kissing Shane. Their tongues are tangling, lips playing along one another and suddenly the world isn’t over. It’s just beginning.

[psychosistr]

The Haunting in St.Canard- Chapter 1

Summary: Drake Mallard, mild-mannered suburbanite by day, masked vigilante by night, moves into a cozy new home with his daughter Gosalyn and his partner Launchpad. However, things take a turn for the mysterious when he discovers why no one has ever stayed in the house for long...

Notes: So, for anyone who’s been following me, you’ve probably seen the art work leading up to this. This story is based off of an RP I’ve been doing with @abbythegamergirl and it’s going to be a haunting/murder-mystery with different endings. Enjoy!

Next Chapter->

The sun shines high above the calm suburban neighborhood within the city of St. Canard, Calisota. A moving truck is already parked in the driveway of one house when the car containing its new residents pulls up to the building.

Or, rather, careens over the curb and screeches into the driveway after clipping the moving truck’s fender. The workers near the truck shout angrily at the driver of the car as the family inside steps out.

The first to exit the car is the driver, a tall red-haired duck dressed in a pilot’s outfit. “Oops, heheh, sorry about that, fellas!” He offers his apology with a lopsided smile, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tries to laugh off the fender-bender.

The next to step out of the vehicle is the passenger in the backseat, a young girl duck with red hair pulled up into pig-tails and dressed in a purple jersey. “Woah, keen gear!” She say while looking at the big house. “I get the big bedroom, right?!”

“So you can turn into your own personal dump? I don’t think so.” The final occupant says when he exits the car. He’s the oldest duck of the trio, that much is made clear by the lines along his forehead, and though he’s significantly shorter than the other adult in their group he’s clearly the one in charge (despite the pink sweater and green sweater vest that make him seem far less intimidating). “WE will pick the rooms, while YOU get started unpacking the boxes in the living room.”

“Awww, no fair!” The girl pouts while folding her arms over her chest. “Why do I have to do all the hard work?”

“Hmm, maybe because SOMEBODY decided it would be fun to mix up all of the packing labels?” He asks while narrowing his eyes at her, leaning down to her level with a mildly-irritated scowl.

She gives a slightly-nervous attempt at an innocent laugh. “O-Oh, yeah, right..gee, wonder who could’ve done a thing like that..?” She runs off into the house. “Anyway, yeah, I should PROBABLY get started on those boxes, huh? Don’t wanna have dinner without the silverware, right?”

The older duck sighs and stands up straight, shaking his head. “She’ll probably get to her videogames and say she’s earned a union break or something…” He mutters before going over to his companion to help him smooth things over with the movers.

While the adults discuss money due for damages, the red-headed girl goes inside…and proceeds to walk past every single one of the boxes that the movers have already brought in.

“Lets see..” She says to herself while looking around. “Knowing dad, he probably had those guys hide all the good stuff..” She goes up and down the stairs a few times as she explores the new house, opening up various closets and bedroom doors to see if she could find a few boxes in particular. She even checks the attic and throw a covering sheet off of some boxes to check the hidden ones as well, only finding a bunch of model airplanes and books.

After a few minutes, she starts to get annoyed at her lack of results..

“Aw, come on!” She complains while kicking the corner of a rug in the downstairs hallway. Doing so, however, reveals an odd line in the otherwise solid floor. “Huh?” she shoves the rug aside more until she reveals- “Keen gear! A trap-door!” She tries pulling on a small dip in the floor that looks like a handle, but it doesn’t budge. “Rats! Must be locked..” She looks the small wooden hatch over carefully for any signs of a keyhole or some other type of lock. “Maybe there’s a hidden switch around here somewhere!”

Temporarily distracted from her quest to find her video games and/or sports equipment, the girl starts pushing at every old painting she can find on the walls to see if it will trip the door. After setting every picture off-kilter, she moves her focus to a large bookshelf at the end of the hall and begins pulling each of the books off of the shelf in a similar attempt to trigger the lock.

“One of these has to be a fake, right?” She asks herself while moving the books on the lower shelf. “Seriously, ‘The Unofficial Biography of Scrooge McDuck’? Who’d wanna read that?” She picks the book off of the shelf with a hopeful smile, but it quickly turns into a pout when the book slides out without any sort of click or whirring sound. “Dang it..” She’s about to move on to another row of books, when something in the space she just revealed catches her eye. “Huh? What’s that?”

She kneels down and starts shoving armfuls of books out of the way, moving everything aside until she’s able to clearly see that there’s a decent-sized hole behind the shelf. What’s even more interesting, though, is what she finds INSIDE of the hole.

“A jack-in-the-box?” She ponders while pulling the item in question out of its hiding spot.

Sure enough, it looks to be a rust-red jack-in-the-box. It’s outlined with faded white trim and has an image of a star on the front. The old turn-crank handle looks well-worn, likely from many years-worth of use.

“Wonder if it works?” Curious, the girl grabs the handle and begins to turn it slowly. The notes come out tinny and warped, like something out of a horror movie about a haunted fairground or a serial killer clown. “Way creepy..” She mutters as she continues to turn the handle. However, when she reaches the end of the song that would normally lead to the “pop”, the lid doesn’t move. “Looks like it’s busted after all. At least the song sounds cool.”

Before she gets a chance to try winding the box again, a frustrated shout from another room startles her. “GOSALYN MALLARD!!!”

“Oh boy..” She sets the box down and stands up. “Guess they finished swapping insurance cards..” She then turns around and starts walking back towards the source of the voice. “Coming, dad!”

When she leaves the hallway, everything is still for a minute.

Then, in an oddly delayed reaction, the lid of the jack-in-the-box suddenly pops open. There is no visible spring inside or any sort of doll or puppet as one would usually find in such a classic childhood toy.

What happens, though, is much more startling: A shadow begins to spread upward along the wall, the light making it look as if it were climbing out of the jack-in-the-box. It grows and grows in height until it stands tall enough to reach the ceiling- actually, it ended up hunching over slightly due to its massive height.

The shadow looks rather frightening, resembling something vaguely duck-like but with much longer and much thinner limbs, as well as a beak of sharp, pointy teeth.

It looks around the hallway for a moment, turning its head in different directions, before it “walks” along the wall in the same direction the girl from earlier went.

It reaches the living room, where the girl is being lectured by the older duck, and hides behind a sofa so that it can watch and listen without being noticed.

“Honestly, Gosalyn, I gave you ONE job!” He fusses at her, finger pointing in a classic scolding gesture. “Did you unpack anything at all, or did you just decide it would be more fun to redecorate the walls and give me an ulcer?!”

“But dad!” She tries to defend her actions, holding her hands out in front of her in a plea for him to listen. “I’m telling you, it’s not like that! See, I found this trap door- come on, I’ll show you!” Before he has a chance to protest, she grabs him by the hand and drags him into the hall where she found the odd door. “See?” She points down at the lines and the handle. “There’s gotta be some sort of hidden switch around here to open it up, right? It’s probably a secret crypt, or a treasure-room for pirates, or the hidden cryogenic storage facility of an alien race that crash landed here, or-!”

Her father kneels down and inspects the sealed door. “It’s the old boiler room.” He explains calmly.

“Boiler room?” Gosalyn’s excited smile instantly drops into a confused frown.

“Yep. The realtor told me this place used to have a boiler, but it exploded years ago so they had to seal up the room.” He stands and pulls the rug back over it. “Probably for the best- who knows what sort of disgusting mess is festering down there?” He looks around at the mess of pictures on the wall. “Now, I want you to start straightening these ouuuu-WHAT?!” He spots the mess of books on the floor from the bookshelf at the end of the hall and turns a mild glare on his daughter. “Gosaalyyynnnnn..” His voice holds a very clearly frustrated tone, warning the girl of an impending lecture.

She gives him a nervous and somewhat embarrassed smile. “I, uh..maaayyybee thought there was a secret book-lever or something..?” She offers by way of explanation with a small, nervous laugh. Sensing a lecture still ready to be launched at her, she quickly moves over to where she left the jack-in-the-box and picks it up. “But, look, I found this behind the shelf! There’s a secret hidey-hole back there!” She looks at the open lid curiously, peering into the dark, empty box. “Weird, it wouldn’t open before..”

That, at least, seemed to shift her father’s attention briefly. “A hole?” At a nod from the red-head, he walks over to the shelf, nudging books out of his way on the floor, until he’s kneeling in front of the shelf that she points out to him. Leaning his head down so he can see between the shelves properly, he finally sees the hole. “Huh, would you look at that..” He reaches back to feel the rough edges of the crudely carved crevice. “That certainly wasn’t in the home-owner’s report..”

“Probably violates some sort of health-code rule or something, huh? You should call him up and see about getting some money back!” Gosalyn suggests with an air of being extremely helpful.

“You’re right, this should get me at least-” He finally figures out what she’s doing and turns to her with narrowed eyes. “Nice try, Gos, but you’re still-”

Thankfully, she was saved by the bell- literally.

The doorbell rang and she set the jack-in-the-box down to go investigate. “I’ll get it!”

“Gosalyn!” He shouts after her, but she’s already down the hall and heading for the front door by the time he’s on his feet again.

She reaches the front door and opens it, the other male duck already heading for the door too by the time she grabs the doorknob. Once the door is open, they see a family waiting on the other side consisting of an obese duck in a Hawaiian shirt, a slender yellow goose in a blue dress and white apron who was carrying a lemon Bundt cake in a clear container, a red-haired and slightly chubby white-feathered goose boy in a red shirt, and a much smaller goose boy with more yellow feathers in a green shirt and big red glasses.

“Howdy, neighbors!” The overweight duck says cheerfully with a smile and a wave. “We’re the Muddlefoots!” He introduces himself and his family, pointing to each of them as he speaks. “I’m Herb, that’s Binkie, and our little guys here are Tank and Honker!”

The older duck enters the room around the time the larger duck begins his introduction. “Nice to meet you.” He says politely, but without sounding anywhere near as excited as the other duck. He extends a hand towards him in another show of politeness. “The name’s Drake Mallard. This is my daughter, Gosalyn, and our..uhh..roommate, Launchpad McQuack.”

Herb takes Drake’s hand and shakes it up and down rapidly, jostling Drake’s entire body in the process. “Nice t’ meetcha, Drake-a-roonie!”

Binkie smiles and hands the cake she’s carrying to Launchpad with a bright smile. “It’s always so nice to meet our new neighbors!”

“Hey, it’s always nice getting’ free cake, too!” Launchpad replies with a grin, licking his beak at the delicious looking cake.

“Oh, thank you, dear.” Binkie smiles more. “The last neighbors liked it, too!”

“There are other new neighbors around?” Launchpad asks while opening the lid and dipping a finger along the frosting to try some.

“Oh, well, no.” Binkie’s smile doesn’t falter as she shrugs. “I just meant the last neighbors that moved into this house. That was what, two months ago, dear?” She asks while looking up at her husband.

“You got it, Binkums.” Herb agrees with a nod. “They just moved out a couple weeks ago. Such a shame, too- they were the longest lasting neighbors we’ve had in years!”

Drake, who had been preoccupied with trying to keep his “roommate” from eating anymore of the cake, stops and looks at them skeptically. “They moved out after only two months? Why? Gas leak? Bug problem?”

“Ghost problem’s more like it..” The youngest goose in the family mumbles, earning a rough elbow to the ribs from his older brother. “Ow..! It-it’s true, though..”

“No one wants to hear your dumb nerd theories, Honker!” The heftier child rolls his eyes at his nerdier brother.

“This place is haunted?!” Gosalyn’s gasps, but it sounds more excited than scared- the smile on her face plainly showing her thoughts on the matter.

“Oh now, don’t you mind our little Honker.” Binkie giggles and pats her son on the head. “He’s one smart cookie, but he gets a little carried away with his ‘paranormal investigation’ shows!”

“Gosalyn’s the same way..” Drake mutters. “Well, thanks for stopping by, but we REALLY need to get started unpacking.”

“Feel free to come over if you want some free burgers and hot dogs sometime!” Herb offers as a final farewell before he and his family leave.

On the way out, though, Honker takes one last look over his shoulder. When he does, his eyes widen and his face goes pale as he spots a tall, ominous shadow standing behind the family. “Waaah!!!!” He quickly runs past his family and heads for the safety of their own house.

Drake and his small family look behind themselves, but see nothing. “??”

“Huh, must’ve seen a spider..” Drake closes the door before looking at Launchpad and Gosalyn. “Now, are you two thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Um..how many slices of cake we should have before dinner?” Launchpad offers after thinking the question over for a minute.

“That’s what I was thinking, too!” Gosalyn grins, her and Launchpad sharing a high-five.

“The answer to that question is NONE- you’ll spoil your appetite.” Drake says while setting the cake down on the living room coffee table. He ignores the resounding disappointed pair of “aww”s and begins pacing the living room with a hand placed under his chin in thought. “To have such a high resident turn-over rate in a common suburban neighborhood so far from the downtown area is extremely unusual. There must be something devious driving denizens out of this deceptively domestic domicile!”

Launchpad, who had been trying to creep closer and snag a piece of cake, suddenly freezes up when he hears Drake’s alliteration. “Y-You don’t think this place is *gulp* HAUNTED, do ya, DW?”

“Of course not, LP.” Drake brushes off his friend’s concerns casually, side-eyeing him in a silent warning to stay away from the cake. “But, cracking this residential riddle is certainly a job for-” He tosses a smoke bomb that he appears to have pulled out of nowhere onto the ground and, when the cloud of purple smoke dissipates, he is instead wearing a purple costume with a large hat, cape, and dark mask. “DAAARKWIIIING DUCK- the masked hero of Saint Canard!”

The smoke disperses into the air of the confined living room, making all three residents cough violently.

“Daaaaad, can’t you go one day without gassing us?!” Gosalyn manages between coughs.

“Sorry, yeah, that’s my bad!” Darkwing coughs as well from the smoke and stumbles over to open a window. “I forgot the AC wasn’t on yet!”

While the house’s new residents busy themselves with clearing the air, the shadowy figure that had been eavesdropping on their conversations creeps back towards the jack-in-the-box still sitting in the hallway.

“A hero…a pilot…and a curious girl…” A deep voice that seemed to come from the shadow itself said quietly as it reached the still open box-shaped toy. “Perhaps they are the ones that I have been waiting for…”

The shadow climbs back into the box and closes the lid behind itself. However, before the lid closes completely, a small object slips out: A photograph that lands face down on the floor before blowing about and winding up between the pages of one of the books still lying open on the ground.

The book seems to close by itself to keep the photo from blowing away, but leaves at least half of it sticking out, revealing the faces of a rat with a pair of goggles and an electrical plug-shaped hat and a duck with a large smiling beak and a jester-themed cowl.

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

Meanwhile, upstairs in a dusty attic littered with cobwebs and freshly-moved boxes, something begins to stir…

A rustling is heard through the otherwise quiet room, a shifting in the corner visible among the unmoving boxes…

The shifting turns out to be a white figure, round and blob-like in appearance as it rises up into the air, appearing almost like a sheet-

Actually, it turns out that it IS a sheet.

A sheet that had been draped over someone as he slept..

A hand pushes forward to knock the sheet off of its drowsy wearer. “Okay, dress-up time’s over.” A voice says with a chuckle as the sheet falls away.

In its place is a much creepier sight of what the sheet cartoonishly resembled earlier:

A ghost.

The ghost is a translucent blue color and has the body of a duck with an exceptionally long beak. The ghost is also clad in a jester-themed costume with lines that clearly indicate that it once had a color scheme that is no longer visible in its spectral state.

All-in-all, the ghost does not seem very threatening in appearance at all- one could even be forgiven for thinking it was merely a regular person if not for the translucent state of its blue body and the fact that it had a classic ghostly-tail instead of legs.

The spirit stretches his limbs and gives a loud yawn, its head rising off of its neck slightly in the process before he taps it back down casually with one hand. “Whooo, that was some nap, eh, Sparky?” When he doesn’t receive a response, he looks around curiously. “Sparky? Megavolt?” He floats over to an outlet in the wall nearby and claps his hands. “Up an’ at ‘em, Sparky!”

The outlet sparks a few times before a large bolt of electricity shoots out of the outlet. The bolt bounces around the room a few times until, with a loud yawn, another ghostly body forms in the air.

This ghost is a rat in an electrically-themed suit, complete with a plug-shaped hat, goggles, and an outlet on his chest. He seems to be in a far rougher physical state, though, as he is missing an arm and, when he opens his eyes after he finishes yawning, he is clearly missing an eye.

“Quackerjaaaaack…don’t call me Sparky..” The rat ghost mutters in annoyance as he stretches and shakes off the last remnants of his own drowsiness. “Is it morning already..?”

“More like afternoon by now, Megsy.” The clown ghost says while looking over the new boxes in their attic. “And look! We’ve got some new toys!”

The electrically themed ghost seems more awake now, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “You mean..?” As his excited grin grows, sparks of electricity travel along his shoulder to form a silhouette of his missing limb, both his real and fake fist flexing in anticipation.

“I sure do, buddy.” A grin that’s equal parts excitedly mischievous and darkly sinister spreads over his beak. “It’s PLAYTIME.”

Next Chapter->

End Notes: Keeping the first chapter short and simple to introduce the main characters. Hope you like it so far :)

[thejonzone]

A Lifetime Gone: Notes on Jim Sullivan and The Hours

Laura Brown does not want to be Laura Brown. She is one of three protagonists in The Hours (played by Julianne Moore in the movie adaptation), and for her it is 1949 in the hot desert suburbs of Los Angeles. Laura has a husband and a young son but dreads her housewife role, knowing it isn’t for her, knowing she can’t keep it up. She stays in bed for as long as she can, her eyes drop with empty relief as she watches her husband pull out of the driveway, and she reads, despairing for a different world.

After a failed attempt to make a birthday cake and an intimate moment with her neighbor Kitty, Laura has an existential panic. She drops her son off at a friend’s house and, under the guise of running an errand, takes a drive into the city: “As she pilots her Chevrolet along the Pasadena Freeway....she feels as if she’s dreaming or....as if she’s remembering this drive from a dream long ago.”

20 years later in Los Angeles (and in real life), Jim Sullivan records his debut album, U.F.O. It’s first song, “Jerome”, begins with a bright, unsettling orchestral arrangement. Swelling and theatrical but foreboding and alone, it’s the musical equivalent of “red sky in morning, sailors take warning.” Something is wrong. But just as the tension peaks, it all falls away, and for a moment everything is still.

Jerome is a town in Arizona, but you’d be just as right if you thought Jim Sullivan’s song was describing a person. In the late 1800’s, the town in the Arizona desert boomed with copper mining, but the mine closed in the early 1950’s, and the people left with it. Sullivan sings about buying drugs and wanting to go to Jerome, but he doesn’t know where it is or how to find it. He wonders where this ghost town could be. Is it “just a town out there”? Can you only find it “if you’re driving slow”? What exactly does Jerome mean to Sullivan, and how real is the place he’s searching for?

Jerome revitalized itself in the early 1970’s, in part due to its proximity to Sedona, the nearby capital of new-age spirituality. Sedona is known for its vortexes, places in nature that supposedly have high spiritual energy. It doesn’t seem coincidental that Jim Sullivan mentions Jerome-- he and his wife were both interested in New Age mysticism. The album has a clear spiritual bent, exploring reincarnation, religion, and grief: the foggy space between worlds. Even without knowing his strange and tragic backstory, Jim Sullivan’s U.F.O. captures the uneasiness of a dream world, the rising anxiety of realizing you’ve been traveling in the same circle, over and over again. It’s a nightmare. U.F.O. is about illusions and ghosts, it’s full of ghosts, one of whom (in hindsight) is Jim’s ghost, which haunts the album more than anyone he wrote about.

There’s a decent amount written about Jim Sullivan’s story. It ends with him in the New Mexico desert in 1975. Before that, he’d been living in Los Angeles. He made two albums that both failed to create any real traction for him. He had some small success (he was in the movie Easy Rider) but decided to leave his family behind and drive to Nashville to find session work. And that’s that. He never made it to Nashville. He disappeared, was never found or heard from. Ever again! They found his car, all his stuff in it, but never found him. For a guy that talked about driving into the desert and disappearing, it’s spooky how 6 years later he drove into the desert and disappeared.

His music faded to almost nothing, until Light in the Attic reissued it in 2010. My initial fascination is summed up by PopMatters: “When you discover a story like [Jim’s], you start hearing the music differently...It seems impossible not to hear the lyrics as a prediction...that he would come to some kind of mysterious end.” It kept tickling my head, the already cryptic and confusing lyrics morphing into some type of eerie prophecy I felt compelled to piece together.

For Sullivan, it’s not what we see, but how we see it. Eyes show up all over U.F.O. “Plain As Your Eyes Can See” is a lamentation of unreciprocated love. The song is claustrophobic: A crowd’s whisper amplifies to a drowning yell, fallen rocks constrict a bridge’s path. As the world contracts, the narrator realizes they don’t have a place in their love’s life. The song’s idiomatic title is deceptive. Because something that’s as “plain as your eyes can see” should be simple. But U.F.O. is full of moments when our eyes observe something strange, when seeing is anything but plain. He tells us that eyes can easily be deceived, and now here we are, our eyes deceived. The album is a disappearing act, a magic trick.

Throughout the album, characters have surreal, impaired vision. “Whistle Stop” begins with “thunder and lightning in my eyes”, before the narrator describes an interaction with a woman he believes to have known from a past life. “All the air seemed quite foggy to me,” he says, setting up a dream world where he contemplates the soul having some type of knowledge that transcends a body. On “Rosey”, men look at the titular sex worker with “diamonds in their eyes”, and Sullivan tries to figure out who really sees who in the exchange. The song is dark and melodic, the strings and horns are exalting at times, dangerous elsewhere.

The characters in Sullivan’s songs are observers, peering from windows, or watching from crowds. They are searching for answers and they search by watching. In the title song, the narrator describes watching a religious ceremony as “checking out the show / with a glassy eye”, whereas in “Johnny”, the narrator is watching a crowd form to watch a boy who is flying in the sky. They yell out to him to come down, and then wonder if he has discovered anything from up there. As the album goes on, it becomes clear that Jim himself was a watcher, as lost as his characters. Even the album’s cover art expresses a fractured and confused gaze, as 5 duplications of Jim’s face, rapt in attention, look up curiously at something out of sight.

Laura Brown, after some aimless driving, decides to rent a hotel room for the afternoon. She’s impressed by the “cool nowhere” of it, a place of travel and transition, a place to sleep but not a home. After checking in, she realizes how “far away from her life she is. It was so easy.” In the hotel, she sees her anger, her panic, her nervousness, all still in existence, but separate from her: “It’s almost as if she’s accompanied by an invisible sister…”

It is Sullivan’s discussion on death and reincarnation that proves most eerie in hindsight. Even with Rosey’s protective facade, she’s surprised to feel seen by her johns, as they see a part of her that she “often thought was dead”, which makes that part of her alive again, if just for a moment. U.F.O.’s title song begins with strings that feel celestial, so it’s only right that he sings about Jesus and resurrection-- “the only man I know that got up from the dead”. It’s neither critique nor praise of Christianity; the narrator wonders if people can come back, if they can ever be seen again. That idea is carried over in the most affecting song on the album, So Natural. In it, Sullivan most directly grapples with a grief that permeates the whole album: the death of his brother. He again is a watcher, this time at his brother’s funeral. His bizarre take on the experience is how natural his brother looks in death. Sullivan has molded a character who is both alive and dead. In a later verse portending his own death, Sullivan wishes for oblivion: for nobody to be at his eventual funeral, for his ashes to scatter across the desert. And here’s the wild part: both those things effectively happened.

Free of her responsibilities, Laura reads Mrs. Dalloway in her hotel room: “did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely, did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?” And after closing the book: “It is possible to die. Laura thinks, suddenly, how she-- how anyone-- can make a choice like that.” It’s a grounding realization for Laura. It’s not necessarily one about suicidal ideation, although (at least in the movie version) she does attempt it, but one about agency. Death changes from something that happens to something one can make happen. In that moment, Laura realizes that she can choose life.

So what happened to Jim Sullivan? There are a few theories, and of course, nothing is confirmed. One is that he was killed, perhaps he ran into an unsavory figure, maybe small town police, maybe a remote branch of the mafia, maybe just a wrong place wrong time situation. Some think that he was abducted by aliens. I don’t think it should be ruled out that he chose to disappear.

After driving back from the hotel, Laura picks her son up on the way back home. She steps out of the car, feet planted back in the real world, and “is overtaken by a sensation of unbeing...it seems that by going to the hotel she has slipped out of her life…”

“Highways”, U.F.O.’s emotional centerpiece, sparkles and trills in a way that would certainly make Sufjan Stevens shit. Sufjan for sure takes a page from Sullivan’s book. Both these fellas love horns and using place to ground their songwriting. Both seem to float over the scenes they describe. Highways is optimistic, in a way. On an album where he’s searching for a place to feel at home, he finds it: being lost. He’s lost both physically and spiritually, as he describes losing his sense of identity. But that doesn’t concern him. “It’s easier to stay here, think I know my way here”, he sings. The place he feels most comfortable in isn’t a place so much as a state of motion. It’s part of the fantasy of escape, that giddy rush of being invisible, of not owing anyone anything, it’s that same feeling that coursed through Laura Brown as she drove down her own highway. “Highways” sounds like Jim Sullivan making a promise to disappear one day.

But he doesn’t disappear, at least not right away. He returns after a trip both in and out of our world, returns home, but he doesn’t return fully, he returns on the final song as a Sandman, bringer of sleep. It’s depressing, dark, insidious-- “honey now your sandman’s back in town” Sullivan croons, a promise of someone who knows death, holds it with him. Laura Brown, similarly obsessed with death, also doesn’t disappear right away. Her afternoon in the hotel makes it clear that she needs to leave, but she formulates her plan and waits for the right moment before doing so. As Laura delays having to join her husband in bed, she thinks over her life-changing day: “She might be nothing but a floating intelligence, a presence that perceives, as a ghost might. Yes, this is probably how it must feel to be a ghost. It’s a little like reading-- that same sensation of knowing people, settings, situations, without playing a particular part beyond that of the willing observer.”

I know what it is to fear life. To tip-toe, lie, crumple, appease, stay quiet, get angry, run. I know what it is to become a ghost. I want to believe that desire is stronger than fear, but I know it’s a choice like anything else. Jim Sullivan made a decision to improve his life. He chose to go to Nashville, and either was killed along the way, or chose to go away, just like he said he wanted to. I want to believe that we will do whatever we can to achieve what we need, but I know it’s not so simple. Jim’s voice is weighed down by despair, yet it’s clear he had a deep spirituality within him, some guiding force. He teases us to see, to really see.

Jerome is a town in Arizona, but you’d be just as right if you thought Jim Sullivan was describing a person. A person who once existed, a person who might come back. Jerome is the person who we are when we stop lying to ourselves, and it’s the place we’re constantly looking for. Good luck finding it on a map. Jerome is Jim Sullivan’s opening statement on his baroque pop nightmare, his declaration that we never really die, that we are constantly alive and dead, and what defines those qualities is rooted in what we’re searching for and what we’re hiding from. In the end though, it’s the Jerome Tourism website that puts it most mysteriously and succinctly: “Forever? Jerome never knows.”

[yumenosakiacademy]

i cant stop making picrew ocs please help me. Caim, Strawberry, Baily, Cali, and Buster all go to the same school. UH THIS GOT LONG so descs 4 them r under the cut.

[made with This picrew!]

Caim- some stupid nerd who got some small demonic powers by accident in sophmore year and now has a power complex. blasts shitty msi while gaming bc it makes him feel powerful. looked at an ender dragon in minecraft and immediately kinned it. plays games with baily sometimes. (gender- guy. sexuality- ???)

Baily- Claims aliens are real and they fucked one. likes researching space and sci-fi movies. childhood friends with Strawberry and has told her numerous times that he prob wont go into full-on astronomy, but they’ll be on the lookout for any “heart-shaped galaxies”. like watching stranger th!ngs and x-files. mayb has Strawberry as their gf (gender: idk. this character started off as a guy but i see em as slightly female-leaning now but they could b anything. sexuality: bi?)

Vinnie- the only college student of this bunch, also a demon. accidentally gave caim some powers while he was messing around w his powers one day and he regrets it. He just wants to do what he wants. hates kids. likes mcr. (gender: cis guy, sexuality: bi)

Strawberry- friends with Baily! a very sweet girl who always smells like red velvet and strawberry. soft, but v annoyed by Caim and wants nothing to do with him. Caim opens his mouth and she gets out heart patterned washi tape to shut him up, which is advice she received from Baily. she likes l0vecore and hopes one day Baily discovers a heart-shaped galaxy. (gender- (demi?)girl; sexuality- bi)

Cali- Strawberry’s friend!! likes researching sky stuff and watching fun movies. Likes upbeat movies and owl city and says that clouds would make the perfect bed if they werent made of water vapor. Kind of clumsy, but he tries! He owns a fluffy white cat named “Ciel” because “it means sky in another language!” and says she looks like a cloud so that’s “just super neat!” (gender- guy; sexuality- bi)

Buster/Lemonz- a Fun kid! Lemonz is their nickname since they think it sounds cool and it goes along w their yellow color scheme. likes collecting stickers and listening to upbeat music like happy hardcore! wants to host a party one day but nobody else they’ve found has their sense of excitement. Likes it when Strawberry hands them heart stickers. Enjoys lemonade, frozen or not! makes pink lemonade for strawberry when they see her bc “it’s pink, like you!!” a good fella. they give baily space stickers since Strawberry mainly focuses on pink stuff whereas buster is colorful! (gender: ? sexuality: bi)