#very rare I made the birdman and his voices actual birds

[coldranger]

Was in the mood of drawing Hunted more like a creature after seeing other ppls designs. I'd make Hunted a roadrunner for their speed and general size if they're kept as a bird. The goat eyes are just an added bonus

Then I had to doodle him with the kiggy too of course. Gotta stay on his toes with that one

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

[ressyfaerie]

I would love love love to see something along the lines of a Tyka mer au?? Especially if Kai is the merman!! I do love them ever so. Any age rating/idea I am so down for, pretty please!! 🥺🙏❤

Keep up with the great Tyka content it makes my day!

I know who you are and you always give me the best fic inspiration! I read your Tyka mer comics and I am INSPIRED. This might be longer than expected! But here I gooooo

So now that I finished it, I’ll be putting it in a readmore since it’s VERY LONG!!

It’s very rare that I write in first person! But this story definitely called for it, and I AM COMPLETELY IN LOVE. You’re going to want to ask for more, I can already tell.

So here it is:

When I was young, I was saved by a merman.

I remember how the cold seeped into my veins. My head was pounding from the force of hitting the water.

I was too young to know how to swim.

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

My body was numb, I descended into the dark blue sea, I saw the light glimmer from the surface, and felt water invade my lungs.

That’s when I saw him.

A flash of blue and milky skin. I felt the smooth scales wrap around my body. I saw his face, clear as day. His purple eyes, silver hair, and blue face markings. His face looked panicked, bubbles erupted from his mouth forming inaudible words. His face turned blurry, and my vision grew dark.

I woke up on the beach. No one believed me when I told them. Just a child’s fantasy gone overboard.

I always wondered how I made it back to shore without knowing how to swim, or how I missed all the rocks.

Someone must have saved me.

The more I visited the beach and saw no sign of a blue finned merman my belief started to dwindle.

Growing up I drew pictures, I even based my imaginary friend off my hero.

In my teens, my best friend Max reminded me of him.

“Tyson! I was just telling my friend about that mer-boy that saved you when you were a kid!”

I laughed it off, “it was a fairytale, Max. Nothing more.”

Years before, Kenny and Hilary sat with me on the beach one day after training.

“Could he still be out there?”

I cleaned my surfboard, looking off into the mysterious ocean.

Hilary passed me a bottle of wax for my board, “you know, I read at least eighty percent of the ocean remains undiscovered.”

Kenny looked up from his laptop, “every mermaid sighting has been proved fake. I still think what you saw was due to a lack of oxygen.”

I gave him an angry look, I didn’t mean to.

“Uh… but miracles have happened.” Kenny tried to reassure me.

I knew the truth.

Mermaids and mermen weren’t real.

After my Mom died, and my Dad left with my brother to explore the world, I had two things, my Grandpa, and my imagination.

Thinking of that boy was my playground. I’d bring sandwiches to the beach, and pretend to talk to him.

I made friends. And became a surfing champion. With my success my imagination drifted away.

I guess I really wasn’t ready for what came next huh?

“Tyson!”

Hilary and Kenny made their way towards my desk, I slammed my textbook closed, I was done with studying anyways.

“There’s a carnival in town! It’s close to your house, you want to come with us tonight?” Her eyes were bright.

I felt a pat on my shoulder, I looked to my right, Max’s blonde hair caught my eye.

“Carnival? Count me in!”

“I’m going too…” Kenny mentioned awkwardly, “Tyson?”

I rolled my eyes, carnivals were for kids. Besides I was planning on catching some waves tonight, but the weather was supposed to be really calm. I guess I could spare the time.

“Alright, sounds like a plan.”

I was right. Carnivals were for kids.

Doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun though.

We rode ride after ride. Kenny had to sit on a bench after he got sick, Hilary rubbed his back.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, partner!” Max slapped my back, “let's get some more snacks!”

Max pulled me towards another booth. I love food, but after a dozen different snacks, and a dozen different rides, I had to admit, I wasn’t feeling too well.

Max handed me a candy apple, I took a bite and felt my stomach turn.

“Bluh,” my lip turned in disgust.

“Wanna take a break from the rides?”

I nodded.

We lost Kenny and Hilary ages ago. Walking through the parts of the carnival with fewer people, we came across a mirror maze.

“Tyson, let’s go in!”

“Sounds fun!”

It was no surprise when I lost Max right away.

I could hear his excited giggles and him shouting my name, I tried to go in his direction, but eventually his voice faded out, and I found my way to the exit.

“Max!” I shouted into the maze, but there was no reply back.

He might have gotten out already…

I walked through the carnival looking for my blonde haired friend. No luck. There was a fortune teller, I made a mental note, Hilary would have liked to go back there.

Then something caught my eye.

ANASTASIA’S HOUSE OF WONDERS

It looked like a cardboard standee, with dark tents behind it. It couldn’t have been that big. I saw some people leave out the exit. There was someone in front of it. They were dressed in a creepy joker costume.

“Hey man,” I got his attention.

“Do you dare enter the house of wonders!”

“Uh, maybe? Is it cool? Like… what’s in there?”

“Things that will make your blood boil—”

“Things?”

“And creatures unknown to this world!—”

“Creatures!?”

“And above all—”

“Oooo what else!?”

“Look kid.” The grey haired joker lowered his arms and sighed, “can you just let me finish my speech?”

“Oh, yeah sorry.”

“I’m Bryan the sharpshooting joker! For only a few bucks—find yourself immersed in a new world!—”

“Okay,” I raised my hand, “that’s enough.”

“Oh thank god” Bryan’s voice dropped a few octaves.

The guy seemed kinda chill, so I leveled with him.

“So dude, is it actually worth my time in there?”

Bryan nodded, “yeah, it’s actually really cool.”

“Alright, sign me up.” I handed him a couple bills.

“Enjoy.” He counted the money.

Before I left I looked under his costume hat, “wait, don’t I know you?”

“Maybe?” He grumbled, accidentally revealing his true persona.

“Yeah! You were in the last surfing championship! You’re that crazy intense guy Bryan! What the heck are you doing here?”

“Uh, sidegig.” He lowered his mask, “have fun in there, kid.”

“Okay…”

I brushed off the awkward encounter and turned to the entrance. It was covered in two extravagant curtains. I pushed the fabric to the side and walked into the darkness.

Wait, is this a haunted house? Damn I shouldn’t have gone without Max!

The first thing I noticed was there was a lack of… people. Tesla coils and odd gimmicks littered the floor of the first hallway. I rolled my eyes, remembering carnivals were for kids.

The next room was bigger than expected, it was a dome with a button in the middle. I pressed it, who could resist a big red button after all?

Suddenly a snow storm picked up. I covered my face, “ah!”

It stopped before I could figure it out, I stared at the sleeve of my red jacket, where snowflakes started melting.

“Alright, that was definitely real snow! I’ll admit I have no idea how you did that one!”

I shouted to no one, but it still helped my nerves.

I—couldn’t figure out where the exit was.

I walked to the edge of the dome, it looked like a carnival tent, I tapped the edge, it rang back with a metallic sound.

“Uh.” I grew worried, “an exit would be nice?!”

I heard a sound from the other side of the room, and some fabric fell from nowhere, revealing another dark room, “thank you!”

Cautiously I made my way to the dark room.

I wish I hadn’t.

Inside were weird animals in green jars.

“Oof, these can’t be real.”

I tapped one, the baby bird inside moved.

“I assure you, they are all real.”

I turned to the corner. A.. man? He had a raven masquerade mask, and when Tyson locked eyes with him, he screamed and revealed massive black wings from his back.

“What the!?—”

I fell backwards, falling on my rear.

The bird boy made his way towards me.

“What are you?!”

“I’m Ian, the birdman.” He sounded tired.

“And in there,” he pointed to the next room with a black talon, “you’ll find my wolf friend.”

“You’re what!?”

I sat up, “naw, I’m done with this place. Your costumes are a bit too real for me.”

He shrugged, “that’s what they all say.” he sat on a crate with a loud thud, “enjoy the rest of the tour.”

I went to the next room because that guy was freaking me out. I really wanted to head back the way I came, but I couldn’t seem to find it.

Also, that guy seemed kind of familiar.

The next room felt colder than the rest. My heart raced when I saw a cage.

“Uh, hello? This haunted house is getting a little weird…”

I heard the clanking of chains, and a flash of red. On the floor of the cage was a boy, a bit older than myself.

“Are you okay?” I asked knowing it was an actor.

I heard a deep growl, and he lifted himself off the floor. I gasped when I saw his face.

A white wolf with a red mane bared his teeth at me.

I took a step back.

I felt the room grow cold, as the wolf tensed and growled.

It lunged forward and snapped it’s jaw, it hit the bars of the cage with a strength that boy shouldn’t possess, I turned and ran.

I ran through a wall tearing down fabric sprinting through tents.

It was dark, I couldn't see anything and didn’t know where I was going.

“Ah!” My foot got caught on a stone and I fell forward.

“How is this place so big! It did not look like this from the outside!”

In front of me was a curtain, it just barely touched the floor, I could see light shining from under it.

If I can’t find my way out… I might as well head for the light.

I lifted the curtain up and shielded my eyes from the bright white light.

In front of me I could just make out the wheels of a traveling train car. The front of it wasn’t metal, it was glass. Bright fluorescent lights hung over it. There was a sign next to me, I rubbed my eyes and could just make out the writing.

Newest exhibit! A rarity of its kind! Stay back, he splashes.

“What?”

Then I saw it.

The flash of blue, silver, and purple.

A merman threw himself against the glass repeatedly, tossing his fists against it. His wrists were in chains, and his constant assault against the glass only amounted to hollow thumps echoing through the tent.

I felt my body freeze.

It was the merman from my childhood.

Is this real?

I slowly made my way to the sealed aquarium.

The boy must have seen me enter the ring of light, because he stopped, he started floating, and stared at me.

“Hello?”

The merman didn’t move, he simply floated in place, I could see his chest move up and down.

“Do you recognize me?”

I made my way to the glass, getting a good look at the boy for the first time.

I placed my hand on the glass. I saw how red his wrists were from the chains.

He put his hand against the glass, only a thin separation between us. I smiled, and looked into his purple eyes.

I think he smiled at me. He opened his mouth slightly and a few bubbles popped out. I chuckled, and he looked back at me.

I stared up at the top of the tank, the lid was thick glass. A massive padlock kept it down. He saw me look at it, and he shook his head frantically.

I nodded, and placed my head against the glass, “you’re not supposed to be here.”

I jumped and hit the lock with my hand gauging how tough it was.

The merman waved his hand and mouthed words shaking his head.

“I’m gonna get you out of here!”

I looked around the room for a tool to use to break the lock. The only thing I could find was the sign I had seen previously.

I grabbed it, and tossed it to the ground, ripping it off its base.

The merman kept throwing his fist against the tank to get my attention, I ignored him knowing I had to help him.

I climbed the edge of the train cart so I was standing on top of the glass looking down at the silver haired boy. He floated on his back and kept banging on the glass with both hands.

It seemed like he was mouthing the words ‘get out get out!’

I used the stick tool I had made and bashed the lock, making loud sounds through the room. I kept doing it, but it didn’t budge.

The merman was banging on the glass mouthing the same words.

“I’m trying!”

I jumped down, knowing I would have to find a different tool, but I bashed it again in frustration.

The merman was frantically pointing now.

“What? What is it?” I watched his lips.

‘Behind you!’

I felt someone grab my shoulder, before I could scream they grasped my shirt and yanked me to the floor, dragging me away.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to touch people in a haunted house!”

I kicked and screamed while watching my merman frantically swim in circles and hit the glass with his tail. He was trying to get to me, but I knew it wasn’t going to work.

The man threw me into another room. I couldn’t see anything in the dark, I was tossed on a chair and sat up. He turned on a light with a click, and an old fluorescent bulb hung from the ceiling. I blinked a few times trying to find my way in the new surroundings.

A silhouette of a man sat on the opposite end of a table.

“You think you can try to take one of my treasures?”

“He is not yours!”

“Months ago I captured him. He’s rightfully mine.”

“Who do you think you are?!” I screamed at him, knowing full well this full grown man could cause me serious harm.

“He’s a rarity, I won’t let him fall into the hands of some snot nosed teenager with a superiority complex.”

I spat, “do you own this crazy place?”

“I do.”

“Don’t think I didn’t recognize your workers. I surfed with most of them in last year's competition.”

The man simply laughed, I finally got to make out some of his facial features. He was an older man.

“And why does the world champion desire my merman?”

“I don’t desire him, he needs to be free!”

“Ha!” The man’s voice bellowed.

I frantically searched for answers, for a way out—for the both of us.

“I’ll buy him from you!”

“Like you could afford him.”

“If I win the next competition—”

“You won’t.”

I grinned smugly, “you don’t know that.”

“You won by luck, my team is far superior.”

“Your team of monsters? Isn’t that cheating?”

“And you think being a descendant of a storm dragon is fair?”

“I’m a—what?”

The man shook his head.

“I know who you are, Tyson.”

“You gonna tell me who you are?”

The man chuckled in response to my anger, making me even more furious.

“The name is Boris. I take care of these boys—”

“By imprisoning them? Leave my merman alone!”

“Excuse me? Yours? Did you not just meet this creature?”

“Let’s say I’m feeling friendly.” I crossed my arms.

“He seemed to react to your presence, what did you do?”

I panicked, “how long were you watching for!?”

“Long enough. I’ve had him here for a few months, yet I can’t seem to break him.”

“Break him?” I was in disbelief, my childhood hero was not some horse at a stable!

“Yes, perhaps you could help—”

“No.” I grimaced.

Boris tapped his fist on the table, “well, it seems we are at an impasse.”

“You’ll never have my help.”

“I think I can live without it.” He stood up, he was much taller than me. “Please leave my circus, and don’t come back.”

“I’m not leaving without the merman.” I stood my ground.

“That’s a shame.”

I felt something heavy hit my temple—

I woke up on a grassy hill. I rubbed my head.

When I managed to sit up I overlooked the carnival from across a field. The lights were all out. It had to have been late for it to be completely closed.

Boris…

Now that I knew my merman was real, and that he was captured by such an evil man I had to find a way to get him back.

I’ll steal him. I’ll figure something out…

You better watch your back Boris.

I stared in the direction I thought my blue finned saviour would be in.

Hold on, I’m coming for you.

[critical-derolo]

Dying is - well, it's weird.

Really weird.

There are bridges and lights. Darkness, too, of course. Lots of darkness, oceans of darkness, all too easy to drown in. Beings of darkness that whisper and reach for you, that try to pull you away if you get too close. The lights usually chase them away though, and then it's just you on a bridge that branches out like the biggest fucking tree you've ever seen.

Dying is a little bit like dreaming, in the way that you can't really tell because everything seems normal until you realize it isn't. Ivory skies and amethyst seas don't feel wrong until she sees Molly.

Death isn't scary until she sees Molly.

Life hadn't hurt so much until she sees Molly.

"That was, by far, the most ridiculous death I've ever seen," he tells her fondly. "Your body windmill'd, you have no idea how rare that actually is." Much to her mortification, he reenacts the twirl with his hands, a grin caught between his fangs.

Her abrasive defense curls up around her like a snake, comforting in its familiarity. "Get fucked, Molly."

"Believe me, I'm trying. I've got my eye set on a beautiful birdman." His voice is light and easy but it feels like blades against her skin. Molly tilts his head, leans against the railing of the bridge. "I'm sorry."

"Don't."

"I like the new guy. Very colourful, very smiley. I approve," he says instead and bounces closer. They both turn to look out at the amethyst sea, and he points towards the large golden hand breaching the surface before sinking back down. "Still don't know what that is. God's version of a whale?"

She scoffs. "Which God?"

"Whichever one that's never seen a whale before."

The chuckle is torn from her chest with claws of misery and mourning. She smiles until it hurts, until the tears spill out the corners of her eyes. Beau presses her palms against the railing, leaning down to catch a breath she doesn't need. The ache in her chest is unbearable. "I was right there. Three feet away on that fucking cart."

"Hey now," he chastises and bumps his shoulder against hers. "None of that. That wasn't anyone's fault, there was nothing you could do but what you did, and - hey, look. You saved them, you made it. Seems like a fair trade to me, three for one."

"Shut the fuck up, Molly, in no world is that a fair trade. You died, okay? You died because we rushed in, because we weren't ready, because we thought we were more than we are. We were supposed to save our friends, not lose one."

Much to her growing annoyance, he's unfazed. He continues staring out at the gently rocking waves, his purple profile against the backdrop of a pale sky. Even in a place like this, he's still too colourful. "I knew you cared more than you let on," he teases and finally looks up at her. "You have my tarot cards."

"Bad luck throwing them away," she mutters.

Molly's smile grows. "Surely even you can see it now. It becomes oh so painfully clear from this side." Beau tilts her head curiously and he flourishes his hand around them. "Life is a gift, not a right. It's an accident you make your own, and some people have theirs for longer, and some people only get a couple good years."

"Yeah, okay," she scoffs and turns her back to the purple sea. Leans against the railing to look out at the bridge stretching before her. "So which bridge is mine? I'm ready to hook arms and sing Kumbaya or whatever the fuck has you so preachy."

"I do miss you, Unpleasant One."

"Pound it, Annoying One."

He sighs, a smile of peace on his face, simply content to just enjoy the moment. "We've got some time, there's no rush."

"There's no point in putting it off, either."

"Same Beau, always moving, always running, never still. Is it any surprise you can't meditate?"

She reaches out to shove his shoulder - pleasantly surprised when she actually makes contact. When there's a solid body to connect with, more Molly and less Weird Apparition. "Maybe if you moved more, you wouldn't have taken a glaive through your damn chest."

"Maybe if you moved less, you could actually see the people around you. She can't catch you if you don't stop running."

Her brows furrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Molly shrugs. "You're the hardest one to hit." He waits a beat, let's the words sink in, and pushes off from the railing. His steps are rhythmic, not quite a skip, but purposeful and smooth. "Our dear Jester does so like to hit."

"Wait. I don't understand. Hey!" Beau calls after him and makes it only a step forward before the ivory sky flashes and her foot is rooted to the spot. Like she's been struck by lightning, her heart beats painfully in her chest - enough to feel it in the tips of her fingers. "Where are you going?!"

He twirls but doesn't look back. "Places to go, birds to woo. Say hi to the others for me, give Yasha my love."

"Wait-"

Another strike of lightning and she's on her knees, fingers digging into the surface of the bridge as her heart threatens to burst from her chest. The sky flashes brighter and Molly's profile gets fuzzy, the ends of the bridges lost in the light.

"Oh, plus I love you."

When she gasps - when she drags in air, it's like sandpaper against her throat. It catches and drags all the way down and maybe there's some relief buried beneath the pain, relief that she's finally breathing again. Her body giving thanks, rewarding her for allowing it to do its basic fucking function of living. But the relief is dull and fleeting, swept away in the torrent of agony that surges through her entire being and centers in her chest. She forces her eyes open, looking for her attacker - surely there must be some beast with its claws in her chest, a bandit running her through with his blade.

Jester gapes up at her from her own lap, the little blue tiefling gathered in Beau's arms with tear tracks down her cheeks. Those purple eyes blink up at her, the world starts crashing in as details finally define themselves, but all Beau can see is the amethyst ocean staring back at her.

"Did I fucking die?!"

[kitsoa]

Magical Dimension Hopping is a Big Jump from Genetic Science Experiments and Other Mind Blowing Revelations Ch 1.

A Kingdom Hearts x Birdmen Crossover Fanfiction 

Sora’s seraph design is here. Please appreciate shenanigans here.

I have never done something so self indulging please save me. It’s also barely proof read so sorry not sorry. Birdmen (read manga here) is set pre-33. KH is technically some hypothetical post KH3 but there is not a single spoiler except Sora can flowmotion up walls cause that’s bitchin. Let’s GO.

“Oh now this is neat.”

Sora wasn’t used to traversing the multiverse alone, so when the Gummiship dropped him off at the decreed coordinates and his magic clothes snapped into action-- he was left to speak his astonishment aloud to no one. By some cosmic choice (or was it magical programming) the garments changed into a suit of pitch black, skin tight and engulfing every surface of skin save for his face. It was aesthetically sleek, similar to his look on the Grid without the glow. But it was the sensation on his back and the ripples of feeling along the suit that suggested very quickly that this was not a fashion transformation alone.

“This is very neat.” Upon his back were very large, black wings, the color of his suit… in fact the same material as his suit. They were smooth and currently folded-- but even then they encompassed his full height.

“Wow… what did I turn into…?” He wished he at least had someone to workshop his questions with. The concept of doing a solo mission at a world he knew nothing about was capable of inspire a dash of uncertainty, but not enough to damper the moment of having wings.

It was daytime, but the location he was in was extremely shaded-- an industrial setting of an empty construction site it seemed. Sora kicked over an obstructing pile of rubble mindlessly as he approached the tarped exit (wait were those talons on his feet?). A splash of sunshine was pulled into view and a street of cars and very average looking commuters passed the blocked off entrance.

“That’s strange… they look like normal people to me…” Sora stumbled out of the site to investigate, his wings dragged behind him (he wasn’t sure how to move them) and into the midday pedestrian sidewalk. Aimlessly, Sora picked a direction and started walking with the traffic flow, the sudden loom of the massive buildings and skyscrapers making his head tilt back in an easy awe. He brought his hands to his head on instinct.

It wasn’t the first time he was in a city by any means, but as a humble islander, the scale and life of a metropolis was impossibly dazzling.  

It took a second to realize that… people were staring.

Not just staring, ogling. Sora’s head snapped forward, the pedestrian that was in front of him now frozen and several meters stopped dead behind him. Cars were slowing, horns honking at the disturbance while people across the street pointed animatedly, cell phones out and fixed upon him. Sora suddenly felt a rare spell of embarrassment grip his gut and his hands fell slowly to his side.

No one looked like him. He, the dimension hopping savior of worlds, was standing out. His transformations usually worked in the opposite manner. Oh… he wished he had a friend to bail him out right now. He wished he hadn’t been so dismissive of Goofy’s concern on the solo mission. ‘Making new allies’ was a lot easier to say and not as fast an achievement as he needed in this moment.

This strange social pain was then consumed by a very real and physical pain-- a jolt of electricity shooting from his wings to the tips of his toes. It left him gasping in surprise and launched his battle honed instincts into overdrive. The whiplash was killer. The crowd of onlookers melted away while Sora’s mental voice warned of imminent battle. (Why though?) But that’s when his darting eyes fell on a familiar void-- a black hole of darkness expanded in the sky above one of the scaling towers across the street.

Heartless.

Sora launched himself into action. With a flick of his wrist and a pull from his heart, his Keyblade burst forth into his hands in a flurry of light. Locked into place, Sora darted across the street with a resulting scream of horns and perhaps a siren in the distance. Without stopping, he took a vertical run up the side of the tower toward the swarm of darkness.

The Heartless emerged from the void as he drew closer, something massive and mechanical-- but it was the surrounding action around it that caught Sora’s eye.

Winged figures, spots of similar black, zipping through the air around the creature. He only counted three when he was yet again rattled by an unsuspecting feature in this word.

“Umino, Kamoda-- pin the bastard down when it emerges. You know the drill Takayama!”

A booming and authoritative voice reverberated directly into Sora’s head, almost knocking off his gravity defying climb up the tower. He gripped the hilt of his Keyblade tight as the lip of the building came into view along with the full, massive scale of the Heartless in question. A snake-like thing dripping in plates of metal and cylinders of ejecting fire.

Using his momentum from the climb, Sora vaulted into the air closing the distance, his Keyblade rending the space in a blaze of light. A satisfying crack sounded and the hulking creature was knocked back. Around it, the flying people hovered in shock. Gravity took hold and Sora fell closer to the knocked back Heartless, and thus, a spatter of jabs rained down.

“It’s that Birdman!” A different voice rang in his head as his Keyblade slashed. The creature suddenly moved out from under him.

“What do we do?”

The snake-like Heartless snapped into a frightening speed and it’s tail snapped around before slamming into Sora’s back. He was spiked to the roof of the building they were fighting over, taking a face full of concrete.

“Back him up.” That initial voice was back, with more chill and demand than before. It jerked Sora to his feet. As he regained his bearings he caught sight of two more grounded winged figures-- one staring at him with intense and furious red eyes.

A crash of impact snatched his attention back and a winged bird-like person was ripping into the plates of metal on the Heartless. It started to thrash and the progress halted in lieu of staying on it’s back. Its apparent ‘mouth’, spitting a jet stream of fire, closed in. Sora felt the panic crawl up his throat.

They were too high up.

“He can’t fly.” This voice was analytic and sure, but it was unnecessary. The intense bird-person, the one with the bone chilling voice and commanding presence, was already on the move toward him. A dull sensation of his wings being pulled preceded a rather rough jostled around the arms, the leader (a shorter boy) suddenly hoisted him up into the air with a powerful beat of his wings.

“Kamoda is so much better for this heavy lifting…” Sora actually heard these words aloud, muttered in a huff of exerted annoyance. His legs dangled as the roof grew distant. Hungry wing flaps from this strange denizen carried him fast. The warring bird-person was back to dealing damage to the enemy despite the hostil bucks. Around him the two other winged figures hovered uncertain. The enemy’s motions guaranteed a nasty blow.

Defiance jerked Sora into a struggling kick.

“Let me go!”

“Are you kidding? You can’t fly!” His lift shouted back.

“I’m close enough.” Sora took the opportunity to slip from his grip… and kick off of him. The sour voice leader squaked, falling back while Sora sailed toward the enemy in a dash. He soon joined the other combatant on the snake’s writhing back. With not so much as a nod, the two began to wail and rip at the resilient creature in tandem.

A massive plate of metal (were those plane wings?) was pried off its skin of darkness. A prime vulnerability.

The elation of an imminent win trilled through the moment. Sora gave his new comrade a glowing look.

“Together!” He invited. And in a unified attack, Sora’s blade and the new friend’s arm of piercing claws, tore into the creature all at once. One slashed with a power primal and honed by instinct, the other bathed in something more foreign and unfathomable.

Something breached and the Heartless exploded into a splash of inky black, dissipating into the air as though never there.

And then Sora started falling. The strange heartless remains like black rain in reverse.

“Kamoda!”

“Roger!”

Once again, Sora felt a pull at his wings and his descent stopped abruptly, a larger bird-person, accented in a deep forest green suddenly above him and gripping the strange things from his back in a cloth-like bunch as though it was rope.

“Yo!” He greeted and behind the visor of his helmet Sora saw eyes twinkling in excitement.

“Hi.” Sora dismissed his Keyblade and gave a casual wave of his free hand. His savior’s eyes bulged wide behind the the visor but left him speechless in their descent. It wasn’t terribly comfortable dangling like that but the roof of the building grew closer.

When they landed-- appropriately on a helicopter pad-- the clicks of talon’s followed. One by one, the ensemble of strange winged people dispelled their helmets, the domes practically liquefying and joining the seam of their suits. He took them in, the green accented one-- Kamoda if he remembered correctly. He was a hulking and tall bald boy with stern eyes that contrasted with the jovial tones of his greeting. Beside him was a petite girl with short blue hair pulled back in barrettes. Her suit was accented in a similar blue shade. They must have been a part of the flying ranks in the operation because two other folks had to close the distance from their observation perch in the corner via walking.

One was a tall, light haired boy, accented white with a neutral expression that belied his piercing eyes of red. The intensity of his stare as they approached made Sora feel uneasy. But not as uneasy as the shorter boy’s similar red gaze. He was undoubtedly the source of all the mental commands flying around by the way he carried himself (taller than he actually was, and hostile-- very very hostile-- didn’t he just help him take down that Heartless?).

“Alright, who are you and what in the world possessed you to walk down the street completely transformed in broad daylight?”

The angry bird-person had a sharp face twisted in a snarl, his wings were perched in a half open position in a manner that made him appear bigger, more imposing. Sora blinked and did a once over glance at the observing ensemble.

“Uh…” Most everyone seemed more curious than angry. His attempt at reading the room was a little more reassuring. Behind Kamoda and the girl was the fifth and final figure-- his helmet was down and he stood back in quiet observation, arms crossed and face flat and emotionless.

“My name is Sora and… I didn’t... know?”

The leader had a snap of anger. “Didn’t know?! You have massive wings!-- We are literally an urban legend at the moment and you didn’t think that would be at least a little unsafe?” The white accented person beside him suddenly clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Back down Karasuma, we don’t know his story.” His voice was gentle even if his eyes never left the creepy, judgemental zone.

“Yeah! Hello Sora.” The girl behind him popped into view, a pleasant smile and a small wave on her hands. “I’m Umino Tsubame-- please call me Umino.” She put that hand forward in greeting.

Sora gave her a grin back, the warmth of her welcome a pacifying balm in this strange solo mission. “Nice to meet you Umino!” He took her hand into a firm shake.

“Is he even telling the truth?” The leader, Karasuma, grumbled.

“Seems so.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Sora offered a fig leaf to the sour ally. “But… we were quite the team taking down that Heartless.” He lifted his tone with a smile, in hopes the compliment reminded him of a nicer potential.

“Heartless?” Umino questioned. “Are you talking about the Blackout?”

“Oh great, first comrade outside the Bird Club and he’s crazy.”

“We just have to touch base is all.” The light haired boy was clearly some kind emotional mediary. His voice was light and pleasant, the kind of cultured and refined way of speaking Sora heard in royalty. “Let’s start over-- My name is Sagisawa Rei. This is Karasuma--” He once again clapped the shorter boy’s shoulder “--you met Tsubame and Kamoda caught your fall. Finally, the birdman back there is none other than Takayama. He’s probably the most experienced among us.”

Sora attempted to make a connection with the stoic figure off to the side. Takayama wasn’t avoiding his gaze, in fact the intensity was enough to rival Sagisawa’s judgement.

“‘Birdman?’” Sora cocked his head and Sagisawa waved away his confusion.

“That is what we are. This really isn’t a good place for this conversation though. My home is in this complex, let’s put away the wings and talk over some tea.”

Sora perked up at the offer and Sagisawa lead the ensemble toward a roof access in the corner, his wings wrapping around his body in preparation to go through the door.

“What’s wrong Kamoda? You’re kind of quiet…” Umino mused as they got to the door.

And with a shaking finger, Kamoda, with his gruff face stretched with bulging eyes and chattering teeth pointed at Sora. “That kid’s got a m-m-magic key-sword.”

“What are you talking about…” Karasuma started but his brow was furrowed and he found himself slacking in realization. He snapped his head up suddenly and he got in Sora’s face. “Where did your weapon go?”

Sora instinctively recoiled back, his mouth a small ‘o’ as the desperate question spun in the birdman’s head. He chuckled to break the tension uncomfortable with the insistent scrutiny. “You mean my Keyblade?-- It’s right here.”

And Sora held out his hand and the giant oversized key from before exploded into existence with a flurry of light.

[Chapter 1 End]

@bird-pun your art sealed the inspiration deal and I dropped everything to write this. Shall I continue?

[datshq]

Fic: My mood is inconsistent

Birdmen Week 2017: Voice

Summary: Mikisada thinks about voices, but it all comes down to imprinting. Relationships: Eishi & Mikisada friendship, Bird Club friendship mentioned

AO3 link

As far as Mikisada was concerned, hearing was an overrated sense. There were many times when, instead of listening, he simply tuned out and focused on something different. He didn't learn by listening to teachers drone on, preferring doing exercises privately together with Ei-chan. He didn't care for the chatter of his classmates, who gossiped about him often enough for him to not want to hear any of it. He especially didn't want to listen to the judgemental rants of his father or now former coach, their voices full of judgement and disappointment.

The silence of his former teammates was a more mixed bag. Mikisada didn't want to listen to them anyway, but they could still make their silence louder than any words. Although, with time, even that grew easier to ignore.

When Mikisada had become a Birdman, he'd started to reconsider his opinion on voices and listening to them. The Bird Club had some pretty nice voices, after all.

There was Ei-chan, who did often say things Mikisada didn't want to hear but also knew when to be silent when Mikisada wanted silence. Ei-chan also sometimes spoke the kindest things or the most fun things and Mikisada was unable to not listen.

When Sagisawa spoke, it was in a soothing tone that didn't grate on Mikisada's ears. He also hadn't said a single unkind thing in the time Mikisada had known him so maybe that was a part of it. Maybe kinder people were granted nicer voices by the gods as a reward or maybe voices that weren't used to say cruel things just sounded good because they were kind.

Also, Sagisawa mostly spoke to Ei-chan, the two nerds preferring to nerd out together rather than boring the rest of the flock. Heh. Flock.

For some time, Mikisada thought that Tsubame had the best voice of them all. It was bubbly and giggly but never ever cruel. It was safe and Mikisada never felt like he had to tune her out. He wished more girls had a voice like hers.

He wished more girls could kick as hard as her, too. Tsubame really was amazing in a lot of ways.

On the other hand, Takayama was the opposite of Tsubame. He had a rough voice, probably because he talked to rarely, with a raspy quality to it. But Mikisada didn't mind because Takayama spoke the least out of all of them. Speaking tired him out just like listening tired Mikisada out and it was so easy to follow the lead of someone Mikisada knew would never be harsh with his voice even when his voice had the potential for it.

Takayama didn't raise his voice unnecessarily, which made his voice also safe to listen to. It was a similar emotion Mikisada got from Tsubame's, so maybe the two weren't all that different after all.

Actually, it wasn't what Mikisada necessarily minded shouting. Ei-chan yelled all the time and it was never threatening. It was actually kind of endearing and fun. It was when his voice lowered into that threatening, serious drawl that Mikisada felt uncomfortable listening to it. But even so, he never ignored Ei-chan. He couldn't after so many years of getting used to listening to Ei-chan even when he didn't say a word.

Yeah, for someone who didn't like listening, Mikisada was good at listening to Ei-chan. Whether it was mumbling or just the other radiating his mood incredibly strongly, Mikisada could catch on easily.

Mikisada remembered one thing from the mess of shock and horror and pain that had blurred most of his experience in getting shot. He could remember, clear over everything else, Ei-chan's voice, strong and there. The voice had felt almost solid, wrapping around all of him and taking his fear away just like Takayama had eased his pain only moments later.

The biology homework for the day had a bunch of stuff about animal reproduction, including imprinting. Apparently baby birds grew attached to sights, smells and sounds from their moment of birth. Humans also had a phase in life when they grew attached to things and learned things more easily.

Mikisada wondered if he'd imprinted on Ei-chan's voice in that moment, when it had been such a comfort when he'd been scared beyond belief. He glanced at Ei-chan over the low desk, scribbling notes away, and wondered if Ei-chan nerdy brain would appreciate the thought, of finding traits in their behavior.

Or then he'd be offended over the consideration of them being what basically amounted to baby chicks.

"Ei-chan?" Mikisada started and watched as his friend's attention snapped to him immediately.

Ei-chan had been doing that for a while now, startling at the sound of his name, but the reaction was growing less extreme. It only happened when Mikisada called him, and when Mikisada called his name specifically.

It was something Mikisada had noticed, but he didn't think about it further than that, thinking that Ei-chan was probably figuring it out himself better than he ever could.

"What's up, Kamoda?" Ei-chan asked, voice neutral and unbothered. "Are the attached questions giving you trouble?"

There were attached questions to the reading? He'll look at them later, Mikisada decided and instead said: "Can humans imprint?"

"In psychology it's called the critical learning period," Ei-chan answered, always knowledgeable. He'd probably read up on it to maximise his own learning, the brilliant nerd that he was. "It's when we can intake information the best."

Mikisada pondered. "Does that involve getting attached to things, like voices?"

"Of course." Ei-chan lifted his hand, like he was about to prop up his glasses to increase his sense of authority, only to swipe at his bangs instead when he realized he wasn't wearing any anymore.

Apparently Ei-chan had imprinted on having glasses. The thought made Mikisada grin.

Ei-chan scowled at Mikisada, probably thinking his friend was making fun of him. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking," Mikisada confessed, looking at his biology book's picture of a flock of baby ducklings following their mother along. He looked back up and grinned at Ei-chan. "I think I imprinted on your supervillain voice."

"My what?" Ei-chan's tone actually dropped when he hissed the question and Mikisada jumped a bit before hurrying to explain: "The scary voice you did in my head."

Ei-chan was frowning, but not angrily, it was that thoughtful-sad look he got when they came across the basketball team. It made Mikisada wonder just what Ei-chan thought he needed protecting from.

"What do you mean by 'imprint'?" Ei-chan finally asked.

Mikisada shrugged. "It just makes me feel safe."

Ei-chan made a face. "It makes you feel safe?" The shorter boy began waving his arms dramatically. "You just called it scary!"

"Yeah, but it's only really scary to people who'd hurt me, right?" Mikisada grinned.

His answer made Ei-chan cover his face with his hands, ears red with the force of the blush he was concealing. Mikisada figured Ei-chan must have been very pleased.