#we outta leave the light on cause the shadows fuckin suck

[synthshenanigans]

see no evil hear no evil speak no evil or something clever idk

Alt versions below:

[the-fandom-fuckup]

A bit more for that modern fantasy au I teased a bit ago

Character designs n stuff are slightly based off the official halloween n fantasy ending arts, plus whatever else I wanted to do, so Kiri is a dragon shifter here, Baku is a werewolf, n Ochako is a witch.

There'll probably be a hint of a/b/o dynamics here for weres n shifters, n the idea of alpha!Kiri n alpha!Baku has stuck to me like glue, so that's a thing here also

There's no real plot for this, just these three being dumb n pining, and everyone around them rolling their eyes n dealing with it lmao

I've thought about jobs n first meetings tho, n came up with this. Kiri's a firefighter (along with Tetsu, who is also a dragon shifter, bc I love him and their bro-bond), bc big fire resistent boy running into fires to help people just makes sense. Also I really like the thought of him in the uniform

Ochako works as a self defense instructor with Gunhead at a small gym in town, probably helping people with magic items n stuff on the side for extra cash or smth, I dunno. She might wanna move into a more magically dominant field one day, but she likes the environment of the gym n the regulars that come in n chat between classes. She's also very good at what she does n has put many assholes in their place after they've scoffed at "the cute little girl you have here".

Baku is a "park ranger", n I use quotations bc that's the only title he could really give himself to have any authority over the land he owns. He gives himself more leeway than what some laws may grant, tho tbh if you're coming into his territory with intent to harm those in it, you're lucky to walk away at all just sayin'

He runs an escape park of sorts for weres n shifters to run around during full moons and other times they need to shed their human skin, personally owned so he can avoid all the bullshit regulations n "safety procedures" found in bigger places that try offering the same thing, but ultimately make the shifting process shittier than it needs to be. And words gets around so it gets super popular super fast, n people of all ages come by

Tbh the thought of a teeny tiny wolf, like 10y/o at most running around Baku n trying to get him to play, nipping at his ankles n calling him the pack alpha is really what settled the debate on whether he should be an alpha or omega. And the added image of Baku rolling his eyes n putting on his toughass act but not really minding it as he gets them moving with a tap on the ass, muttering "Fuckin told ya squirt, I'm not your pack alpha. Now find someone else's ankles to bite at, I'm busy", makes me feel really nice

For some first meetings, tbh Kiribaku probably happens first, n they meet when Kiri n Tetsu accidentally trespass on Baku's territory bc they're new to the area n found a big ass lake to soak in during a flight over town, like dude!! Fuck yea that could fit both of us easy, man I haven't soaked in my big form in forever lets go!

And ofc if the giant shadows overhead hadn't tipped him off the security sensors would've so Baku's like who in the FUCK!! N storms off to confront them bc you don't just come on his land like that. That's how people get fucking hurt you dumb assholes 😤😤

N Kiri n Tetsu are mostly just minding their own business, settling down into the lake like aw yea that's the shit, almost passing out bc they'd just had a long day n the water was so cool n the fish eatting the dead skin n shit off their scales was so relaxing. They don't even realise they'd drifted into a light doze when they hear furious snarling n harsh sniffing coming their way, n barely have enough time to get up before Baku comes tearing shit through the trees

And like. Kiri n Tetsu know that they're big boys. Their full sized dragon forms are huge n there's not much out there that scares them, but nobody likes coming face to face with a snarling werewolf, standing in their territory without any warning that you maybe shouldn't be there

Despite the hostile intro, it doesn't take much for the misunderatanding to be cleared up. There's a lot of apologies from Kiri n Tetsu n a lot of irritated snorts from Baku, but they get straightened out. Baku tells them what kinda show he's running n Kiri inatantly get sparkly eyes like dude!! You do that all by yourself?! That's so manly bro you gotta let us help with that

Baku snorts like you don't have to make empty offers if you wanna use the grounds, I don't refuse people unless they pose an actual threat to the others. You guys aren't dangerous, just stupid. N Kiri goes hey rude, but also it's gotta be a lot dealing with all that on your own. We can at least watch out from above, keep an eye on shit or whatever bc face it man, you may be great but even you can't be in multiple places at once.

And the only reason Baku ends up agreeing is bc they pester him about it until he's well past irritated, n he's figured out the only way to shut them up was concede. They can't be there fulltime anyway consudering their professions, but they're sure to help when they can

Kirichako meet at the gym. Kiri's buying a membership or smth bc you gotta keep the stength up bro! Can't be slacking when you're the difference between someone living n someong dying y'know? Ochako's either in a class or dealing with some hothead, her furrowed brows n puffed cheeks distracting Kiri n reminding him of a chipmunk before bud says smth he can't hear but has Ochako seeing red. It doesn't take long for him to end up on his ass n Kiri's just stuck watching, jaw dropped n heart eyes as Ochako tells the guy he can either fix his attitude or find somewhere else to go

Kiri turns to Tetsu like dude holy shit did you see that?? N Tetsu's like yea bro everyone saw it, n Ochako comes up to them like sorry about that. We have a no harassment policy here that some people overstep, n it sucks that we get people coming in that need it enforced but unfortunately it's pretty common.

Then, bc she's still a bit sour, she looks them both dead in the eyes with a fire raging behind hers like if that's not smth you think you can handle then you might as well save us all the hassle n leave now. N they're both like no way that was great, totally understandable, just tell us where to sign

And while she came off as kinda aggressive during their initial meet, Kiri's quick to find she has just as much sweetness to match her bite. He watches her between sets sometimes n sees how kind n gentle she can be with the younger classes that come in, how she doesn't single out people who struggle n instead moves to help n provide tips without making a huge deal of it

She's also one of the first people to come running when someone gets hurt, he finds out. He'd admittedly been more focused on her sparring with Gunhead than he'd been on the super heavy equipment he was using for his reps, n managed to look over at the perfect time to get flustered n drop it directly on his foot. The resounding crack was loud enough to catch quite a bit of attention, tho he knows the equipment is more likely to be damaged than his foot

Ochako doesn't even hesitate to run over n levitate him to take the pressure off of his not broken foot, going "oh my god are you okay?? Someone clear that bench please, he needs to get off his feet now!" N Kiri does appreciate the concern, as embarassing as it may be, n tries to tell her it's really not a big deal, thanks for the help but honestly--

N she rounds on him like say that one more time n you'll be dealing with a broken nose instead, now sit your ass down n let me handle this!! Kiri can't even reply with anything other than a quiet okay😳😳 bc he's always thought her determination was super admirable, but being this close n seeing it burn in her eyes so intensely is taking it to a whole new level n he has no clue how to handle it

Kacchako meeting is kind of a hybrid mix of the other two combined lmao. Baku owns a pack house where he lives with Deku, then later with Kiri, Tetsu, Mina, Kami, n Sero, but he's so busy with the park that he's hardly ever home. N since Ochako's kinda embarassed about her tiny ass appartment, they usually hang out at the pack house to talk over magic studies or gossip over whatever's happened recently. At this point Baku n Ochako have heard of each other but never been around at the same time

Which causes a problem one day while Ochako's in the kitchen making tea when Baku comes home. He'd had a stressful day warding off poachers or smth, n his rut's just a few days away now, so when he opens the door n is greeted with a slightly unfamiliar scent it sends him into a daze, where he stalks to the kitchen before he even knows that he's moving

Ochako knows tho, can hear the low growls and deliberately quiet steps creeping behind her, setting her on edge bc ohhhh my god, someone just broke into Deku's place holy shit!! And when it gets close enough to barely feel hot breath on the back of her neck she's flinging herself into action, all muscle memory as she gets a few quick jabs into Baku's gut. It knocks the question outta his lungs, getting out a choked "who the--" before her magic kicks in and she's picking him up n slamming him down with his weight returned for maximum momentum, body slamming the following "fUCK!!" out as well before she placed her weight on him to keep him down. She gets right in his face demanding "who are you?! How did you get in here?!"

And when he can breathe again Baku snaps back like "who tf am I?!? I live here!! Who tf are you?!?!" And like, she's still in fight mode so she's looking him over like hmm, so this is Bakugou. Then she realises wtf she's doing n goes oh my god it's Bakugou!! N she's jumping off him and apologising so fast that she's barely saying words, trying to take his hands n help him back up but getting swatted away bc you've done enough touching don't you think??

And yea, Baku's kinda pissed. Being attacked in your own house does that to anyone, let alone a pre-rut alpha. But also, he's kinda impressed, bc he can count on one hand the amount of people who've gotten the drop on him like that, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud. So he just huffs at her with a final "try that shit again n I'll kill you", n stalks off to his room, having more important things to worry about right then than who's fucking around in his kitchen

((His rut decides to be completely unhelpful that time around, his alpha brain locking in on the faint perfume she'd left on his shirt while tossing him around and how perfectly it mixed with his own scent, as well as the shirt he nabbed from Kiri's laundry basket the night before. He rubs the scents of these strong potential mates all over his den, knots his rut aid with his face plastered to the shirts then uses it to scent the shirts even more, drunk off of how well their scents all mix together. He's rightfully embarassed during the end when he can start thinking properly again n throws both shirts to the back of his closet to be forgotten about--as much as his alpha fights him on it--n moves on to his business like normal.

Tho if he tries to be home more often when he knows Ochako's coming around, n spends more time in Kiri's space, nobody's mean enough to comment on it. At least, not at first.))

Man I have many feelings about this, but I'll leave it here for now bc I could go on forever

[createuntiltheendoftime]

Love is Found in Violence, and Humanity is Found in Inhuman Acts

    this is my secret santa for @silverswordthekilljoy

I'm sorry it took so long, I spent my whole day writing it cause i finished it then reread it and hated it so i rewrote it. I hope you like it!

“There is no way in fuck I am letting you leave the Zones!” Jet snapped.

    Party stared hard at him. “Why the hell not! What if there are other ‘Joys? We could build an army, free the City, like we’ve always wanted.”

    “Or you could find nothing.” Jet half-turned away. “An’ starve to death. Or die of radiation sickness.” 

    “C’mon. You and I both know very well that I’m gonna die of radiation anyway. Do you really think that BL/I was just happy with California and Nevada? That they wouldn’t control the entire world if they could? If you believe that, you are lying to yourself.”

    “Don’ tell me what’s truth, Party.” Jet snarls. “Don’ tell me what you think is real, because you grew up in the city! You’ve got no idea what it was like being alone out here! I know what BL/I wants to do. I saw it first hand!”

    The door to the Diner opens, and Kobra and Ghoul walk in, laughing at some joke one was telling. Both their smiles fade as they see Jet and Party in the middle of an argument. “What’s up?” Ghoul asked cautiously.

    “Nothin’, Party jus’ wants to run a suicide mission.”

    “It’s not! It’s a chance to end this.”

    “You asked him?” Ghoul looked surprised, and a little hurt.

    “You knew about this?” Jet rubs his face. “I’m goin’ to bed, and we’ll talk about this in the mornin’.” Jet turns and stalks down the hall.

    “What was that about?” Kobra looked at Party suspiciously.

    “We intercepted a transmission from outside the Zones.” Ghoul says.

    “We do have intel that BL/I is tryin’ to take a seventh Zone.” Kobra glanced sideways at Ghoul.

    “Not like that. Like Killjoys. Plus the expansion won’ happen for another six years at the very least. Ghoulie and I wanna check it out.”

    “As in, go outside the Zones? Hell no! There’s a reason the expansion’s goin’ to take years, it’s because a prospective Zone Seven’s completely unlivable.”

    “But there are people out there.” Ghoul protested.

    “I am not letting you two idiots die. The rest of the Zones will never know what happened to the two Crash Queens from Zone Six. An’ what if you go out there, an’ you die, an’ leave me an’ Jet alone. You wanna do that shit?”

    “Kobra—”

    “No. Come back to me when you don’ wanna be a dumbass.” Kobra turned and followed Jet’s steps down the hall.

    “Godammit!” Party yelled, and stomped out the door, into the desert.

    Ghoul sat alone in the Diner for a while, staring out a window, before deciding to follow Party. The back of his throat itched, and he suppressed a light cough, climbing up to the roof, where Party and him liked to hang out. “Hey Party.”

    “Hi.”

    “Are we still going?”

    “‘Course.”

    “When?”

    Party sat up, that stupid light in his eye, and looked out at the desert horizon. “We go now. Mom an’ Dad’ll never know what hit ‘em.”

    “Wait, you’re serious?” Ghoul grinned.

    “Yeah, dead serious. Pack your shit. We’re goin’.”

    Ghoul started down the ladder, Party following after him. “What about Kobra and Jet?”

    “We’ll be gone before they think we’re ghosted.” Party smiled, and the pair headed down to the ground.

* * * *

    The Trans-Am started up a lot quieter than Party had thought, still blaringly loud in the desert night, but Kobra and Jet didn’t come running out, so he figured they were good. They climbed into the car, turned the radio up, and headed out.

    Ghoul glanced out the window before looking back at Party. “We so did not think this through. No gas, no food. This is gonna go Costa Rica.”

    “Calm thy tits. We got some extra Power Pup, full tanka gas is gonna give us 200ish miles. When the pup runs out, we’ll eat lizards, and there are so many gas stations in the Zones, they gotta be outta the Zones too. We’ll be fine.”

    After an hour and a half, Party slowed.

    Ghoul put a hand on his ray gun. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s the edge of Zone Six.”

“Let’s go then.”

Party sped up again, and the edge of Zone Six flashed by. Ghoul coughed again, cursing himself for sounding so weak in between sucking breaths. Party glanced at him sideways, then glanced back at the road. “You okay? You don’t sound so good.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We could go back.”

“No.”

Another hour and a half later, the radio starts to die. The music fades out, crackling and messy. “Party…” Ghoul says nervously. “There’s nothing around. No gas stations, no body bags. There ain’t shit.”

“Do a transmission.”

Ghoul nodded and pulled out his long range radio. “Name’s Fun Ghoul. ‘M with Party Poison, and if you believe in freedom, we’re lookin’ for you. If you’re BL/I, get off my goddamn frequency.”

He says this multiple times, over multiple frequencies, and by the last one, it’s lost it’s magic. Well, Ghoul’s voice was not lost on Party. That would be impossible. But the message was less dramatic the eighth time around. Party looked over worriedly as Ghoul started coughing again.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fuckin’ fine, leave me alone.”

Party reached over a hand and felt Ghoul’s face. “You’ve got a fever, dumbass. Drink some water or I’m turning around.”

Ghoul grabbed Party’s wrist and threw it back in his lap. “I said I’m fine goddammit, shut up about it.”

“Drink the fuckin’ water.” Party grabbed the bottle and threw it at him.

“Party. We can’t turn around.”

“No, we can’t, so drink.”

“No, I mean check your rearview mirror.”

Party glanced in the mirror, and slammed his foot on the gas, causing the RPM needle to go up alarmingly. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Party’s cussing caused Ghoul to grab his gun and stare at Party, currently scrambling for the reverse. “Fuck it! Get down, Ghoul!” He threw the car into drive and stepped hard on the pedal.

Thunder rolled as the engine grew so loud it sounded like it was going to explode, blasts flung through the open windows, and a low hum started to pierce his ears, then all of a sudden, the car slowed and stopped. “No! Fuckin’ shit!” Ghoul yelled.

“Be ready to put up a fight!” Party snapped.

“It’s an EMP. Our guns won’t work.”

“Theirs won’t work either,” Party growled, pulled a switchblade from his pocket.

Ghoul tensed as Dracs approached the car. “Fuck, this’s gonna hurt.”

In the split-second hesitation before the pair jumped out and rose hell, the doors opened, and the Dracs drug them out. Lightning flashed, illuminating Ghoul’s face, and sending flashing shadows across the Dracs’ faces, and fear shivered down Party’s spine

Ghoul sucked in a breath to start yelling, but he hit the ground with another coughing fit, and Party punched the Drac, trying to get away. “Get off me you fucking pig!” Party hissed.

Ghoul snapped his head back into the Drac’s face, looking smug for a moment before getting a faceful of raygun, the Drac slamming his raygun into Ghoul’s nose.

Party cringed at Ghoul’s yell, and the blood pouring out of his nose, the Dracs letting him go unsupported as he kneeled on the ground. 

A black haired SCARECROW stepped out from wherever they were hiding, a smug smirk on his face that Party longed to punch. “What are you two little Zone Rats doing out here?”

Party rolled his eyes, partly stalling because he couldn’t remember the Crows name. Flare? Fire? Something along those lines. He knew it started with an F at the very least.

“C’mon Flare.” Ghoul said. “Haven’ you had enough of stalking me? You know I’m no’ indo you thad way.” His grin and slightly muted broken-nose voice made Party’s heart flutter.

The resounding thud dropped his stomach, and Ghoul was on the ground, breathing hard. Flare kicked him in the side, and then again in the face. But Ghoul tried to stand, making it to his knees before swaying harder to stay upright. He got to his feet, then Flare kicked at his knee, sending him back to square one with a pained yell.

Party wrestled with his Drac for a second before snarling, “you don’t touch him.”

That was a mistake. Ghoul shook his head, and Flare smirked, “is that so?” He grabbed a handful of Ghoul’s hair and lifted his chin. The blood down his face and throat almost hid the bruise blooming over his cheekbone.

Ghoul grinned up at Flare and spat at him. Flare seethed, and twisted his hand, causing Ghoul to cry out. Party slammed his head into the face behind him, using Ghoul’s distraction to get the upper hand and knock one out. The next one came at him, and he grabbed its head, bringing it down to meet his knee. He turned to Flare, still holding Ghoul hostage, holding the knife close to his throat. His voice was steady, but his hand shook.

Flare laughed, “you don’t even trust yourself.”

Party smiled, a sweet, innocent smile. “It’s not me I need to trust.” He opened his hand, and the knife fell straight into Ghoul’s grip, who shoved it into Flare’s chest. Flare stumbled back, and fell off the knife, literally kicking Ghoul away. Ghoul hit the ground hard, the knife skittering across the rocks, and Party grabbed it, standing to face the Dracs.

Lighting and thunder accompanied his attempt at escape, and Party made short work of them; their guns were completely useless, so they didn’t actually have a weapon. Briefly, Party wondered why they didn’t carry knives, but then Ghoul groaned, and Party dropped down next to him. “Are you okay? You’re not lookin’ so hot.”

“I’m fine, ya bastard.” Ghoul snapped. “Where the hell is Flare?”

“He’s gone.”

“As in…?”

“Disappeared.”

“Thank fuck.”

Party pulled off his bandanna and held it to Ghoul’s face, and Ghoul put his hand over Party’s, taking the bandanna. There’s a huge flash, and everything goes white.

* * * *

    Party cracked his eyes open. The same desert light filtered through his eyelids, and stung as he got his eyes all the way open. “Ghoul?” No answer. Maybe he was still unconscious. Something knocked them out and—There’s no Ghoul. There’s no Trans-Am, and there’s no Drcas. “Where the hell am I?” There’s nobody around, but it looked like he was laying on some kinda road, an old dirt road, but the dirt looked freshly turned, like it was still being used. So Party stood, and he started walking.

    The air slammed out of Ghoul’s lungs and he gasped, the ground warm against his back. For a second, he just laid there, trying to get air into his lungs. After a moment, he rolled onto his hands and knees, trying to make it to his feet. “Party?” He yelled. Nothing. There’s no sign of him, or the fight they were just in. Party’s bandanna is still in his hand, so it wasn’t a dream. “Party!” Still no answer. A tiny-looking town is on the horizon, and it’s all Ghoul could do to stumble into it, and the moment he did, he stared.

The streets were dirt, and every building was wood, the sidewalk cracked and broken from various things. The women were dressed in dresses, like, actual ankle length dresses, and the men were dressed in pants and vests. Ghoul looked down at his own green vest. At least he was sort of in the right clothes. There were carriages along the street, horses tied up to various posts. Horses. Real live horses. Ghoul’s jaw dropped. “Phoenix Witch!” He walked up to one slowly. Party had told him about horses. He only had vague memories from before the Helium Wars, the four-legged animals in fields, with swishy tails. Party knew from what they had told him in Battery City.

Someone crashed into him and he turned, ready for a fight. The kid jerked back, his hands curled into fists.

“The hell’d you do that for?” Ghoul snapped.

“Who messed up your face?” The kid looked as ready to fight as Ghoul felt.

“None ya business.”

“Well ya crashed into me.” The kid leaned back on his heels and regarded Ghoul cooly.

“The hell are you on! You crashed into me ya fuckin china doll!”

“What does that even mean?” The kid looked at him like he was nuts.

Ghoul rolled his eyes. “If you really wanna know, it was a dude named Flare.”

“Messed up name.”

“Messed up dude.”

“C’mon. You look like you need some help.” Ghoul followed the random kid, and while he was aware that following the random kid was never a good idea, and never turned out well, he still needed answers as to where he was. “Wha’s your name? I’m Liam.”

“Ghoul.”

“What kinda names do your people have?”

“Okay, first of all, Flare is not ‘my people’. And we choose them. Well, Flare didn’t. But I did. And so did Party.” Ghoul followed him, all the way to a two story wooden building, titled “Home for Young Boys.” A newspaper vendor sat just outside, and Ghoul caught a glimpse of the date.

June 8th, 1899.

Ghoul’s mind raced. That’s impossible. But it made sense. Actual, standing buildings, weird clothes, weird slang, horses. He had time travelled.

“Who’s that?” Liam yanked him out of his thoughts, and forced him to keep going.

“My friend. He disappeared.”

“Outta thin air? That ain’t possible.”

“No, we came here, and he disappeared.”

“Fuck.” Ghoul looked at him in surprise. He didn’t seem like the type to cuss like Ghoul would. “Normally I wouldn’t say that, but ‘round here we’ve been havin’ some problems.”

“What kinda problems?” Ghoul asked.

“The kid-stealin’ kind.” Liam opened the door to the boys home and motioned him inside. “Six kids’ve been taken in the last two weeks. Looks like this Party is the seventh.”

“He wouldn’t let that happen.”

“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, you don't get it.” Ghoul grabbed Liam’s shoulder. “Party’s the best Killjoy we got. He’s gotten his way out of plenty of claps before, and I guarantee they’re a lot worse than whatever plastic flower’s out here.”

“You talk so strangely.”

* * * *

    When Party finally made it to a town, it was dark, and the lights of the town are gas lights in the windows.

    There’s a scream, and Party’s fight or flight went directly into overdrive, and as normal, skidded violently past flight and into fight mode. He raced down the alley, where a kid his age, dirtied up and angry, fought hard against the guy who was grabbing him.

    “Hey! Let him alone!” Party yelled. He ran towards the kid, before someone else caught his arms, and held him back. The guy who was going after the first kid punched Party, and he gasped, feeling the blood trickle into his mouth. “What gave you the right to hurt a kid like that?” Party snarled.

    “What gave you the right to interfere in my business?” The guy hit him in the stomach and slowly Party sunk to the ground. He coughed weakly, and thought about Ghoul and his coughing fits, and his fever.

    “Ghoul…” Please be alright.

    The guy punched him in the face and his head snapped back. Slowly, the lights faded, and the world turned black.

    When Party came to, he was in a room with seven other kids, all dirty, all around Party’s age. “Hey. Um… Where are we?”

    “Dunno.” Someone responded.

    Another person pressed close to him and whispered, “thanks for trying to help.”

    “I wasn’t gonna stand by and let him take you.” Party muttered.

    “Who—Who’s Ghoul?”

    Party turned bright red, he could feel it. “Ghoul—Ghoul came with me here. I think. I don’t know where he is.”

    “Who is he? To you?”

    “I don’t—”

    The door opened, and someone dumped a plate of food on the ground. All seven kids scrambled for it, racing to see who got to it first. Party leaned back against the wall.

    The kid Party tried to help came back, with a scrap of bread. “You didn’t go for anything.” He observed.

    “There isn’t enough, and I’m not gonna take from kids who need it.” Especially since he had a lot of experience in starving from the Zones. “Besides, I’m used to it.”

    “Nobody should have to say they’re used to starving.” The kid tore the bread apart and handed one half to Party.

    Party paused, before taking it. “My situation is different.”

    “So what are you gonna do?”

    “I need to get out of here.”

* * * *

    “The police have been searching everywhere for these guys, but I think I know where they are.”

    Ghoul, Liam, and two other boys sat in a circle in a room full of bunks. They had explained to him what they were, and the whole boys home thing. They were newsboys, sold papers on the street, and most were orphans, so they lived in the boys home. Liam said they could get you anywhere and anything.

    “Where?”

    “There’s an old ghost town not far from here. I think that's where they are. It’s not even four hours ride.”

    “Ride?”

    “A horse?”

    “Oh.” Ghoul didn’t know how to ride a horse. “When do we leave?”

    “Now, I guess. We’ll have to borrow some horses, but we’re ready. Do you have a gun? Or a knife?”

    “Yeah. Although what good it will do.” Ghoul pulled out his raygun, checked the battery, and sniffed happily. “Yeah. It’ll work.”

    “What is that.”

    “It’s my gun.” Ghoul, very clearly, wasn’t gonna say anything more about it.

   

    Fifteen minutes later, Ghoul, Liam, and the two others, Gavin and Jeramiah, who insisted we call him Jem, had four horses, each on borrowed, except for Gavin’s who saved up an entire years wages to get a horse. He said he wanted to be a cowboy. Ghoul waited until everyone was already on their horse before trying to get up, hoping that he would be able to figure out how to do it. Finally he got up into the saddle—and almost fell off the other side. “Fuck! Fuck!” Liam laughed as Ghoul forced himself back up. Ghoul huffed, and they set off. Ghoul was super wobbly, almost falling off several times.

    “When we start trotting, we’re gonna have a problem, I think.” Jem says with a smile.

    “What the fuck is trotting?” Ghoul asked.

    Simultaneously, Jem, Gavin and Liam, started at a faster, bouncier pace. His horse started following them, and panicked, Ghoul grabbed the piece of leather sticking out of the saddle, Liam called it the saddle horn.

    All three started laughing, and Ghoul glared at all of them. “You know what you guys, shut up.”

    “Okay, we’ll lope then.” They started going even faster, but this time it was smoother, but Ghoul still felt himself sliding out of the saddle.

    “Heels down, pockets touching the saddle!” Liam yelled.

    “What does that even mean!?” Ghoul yelled back, right before he hit the ground. “Motherfucking shit!” Ghoul gasped.

    The three circled back around, Jem grabbing the reins and handing them to Ghoul as he stood back up. “That's gonna hurt tomorrow, Ghoulie!”

    “Don’t call me that!” Ghoul snapped. Only Party called him that. He hauled himself back into the saddle, and they all continued on, this time Ghoul stayed in the saddle.

* * * *

    Party stood as footsteps came to the door, and he darted behind the door. The second he opened it, Party slammed it forward, and heard a thunk as it hit his head. He threw the door open and kicked the guy in the balls, then punching him in the face. The kids cheered, and Party turned. “Shhh. You guys gotta be quiet or they’re gonna hear us. Any of you have somethin’ sharp?”

    None of them nod, so Party leads them out, slowly, and quietly. The first room he came to, a desk stood, and he searched every drawer, eventually finding a letter opener. “This’ll work.”

    “Listen, I’m going to take it one hallway at a time. I’m gonna go first, and I’ll clear it out. Then you guys will come with me.”

    There was no one in the building. Party saw his switchblade on a table and grabbed it, tossing the letter opener to the kid he had helped, who was the second oldest, as far as he could tell. “This your audition?”

    “What?”

    “Is it your first fight?”

    He nodded.

    “You’re gonna do fine. Move before you think you need to, okay?”

    “Is this your first fight?”

    “Not even close.”

    The group made it out unharmed, but that was when everything changed. There were two men guarding the door, and Party managed a strangled “stay there!” while he took them down, a lot bloodier than he’d like. “Don’t look.” Party muttered as he led the group into the desert town’s air. They looked a lot dirtier in the bright sun.

    “Get down!” Someone yelled, and Party automatically hit the ground, pulling down the other kids with him. There was a hail of gunfire, and pounding hooves. “Party?”

    “Gavin! Get to Strings and get us a sheriff! Go! Run!”

    “Ghoul?” Party yelled. More bullets hit the wood above him. “Guys, you have to listen to me. Do not stand up. Otherwise, you will die. I’m serious.”

    Some of the kids looked scared out of their minds. Party was okay with that. He grabbed the gun dropped by the guards outside the door just as one of the kids stood up, looking about ready to take off and run. A half-second later, he was writhing on the ground. Blood bloomed on his dirty shirt, and he screams as Party pulled him to safety.

    “Ghoul, we got injured!” Party yelled. “Alright kid.” He said softly, pulling off another of his bandannas. “You’re gonna be okay, but this is gonna hurt a lot,” the poor kid whimpers, and as Party pressed down on his wound, and he screamed louder than Party had ever heard someone scream. “You’re gonna be okay, kid, I swear. Ghoulie an’ I, we ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen to you. I swear to Destroya.”

    “Party!” Ghoul screamed, sounding terrified.

    “Listen, listen, press down here. Don’ let go for the goddamn world.” The boy nods, and Party snuck around the side of the box, to see Ghoul, a knife at his throat, gun across the street.

    “Drop the gun!” The guy with the knife yelled.

    “Don’ move, Ghoul!” Party yelled. He aimed carefully, and with a bang, the guy fell behind Ghoul. Party started to run to meet him in the street, but something stopped him. Something being a loud crack, and a scream. It felt like he had been punched in the gut, but there was no one around him.

   

    Ghoul watched Party get shot, watched the yellow Keep Smiling on his shirt turn to red. “No!” Ghoul sprinted over to him, catching him as he began to fall. “Party, Party, please don’t do this.” Party was completely oblivious.

    “Ghoul… tell Kobra I’m sorry.”

    “No! No, you’ll tell him yourself, you stubborn bastard.” Ghoul tried not to think about how eerily similar Party’s blood was to his hair. 

    “At least I get to die here with you.” Party looked up at him with glassy eyes.

    “You’re not gonna die. I swear to the Phoenix Witch.”

    “Ghoulie… Ghoulie, are you crying? Didn’t know you cared so much.” It was true, Ghoul’s tears carved tracks in the dirt on his face, and the two were blissfully unaware of the firefight going on above them.

    The police had come.

    “Party you fuckin’ idiot.” Ghoul sniffed. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

    “I know, Ghoul. I have too.” Party whispered. His voice wavered, and he fell heavier into Ghoul’s arms.

    “No. No, please don't.” Ghoul leaned down and kissed Party, and Party kissed him back albeit weakly. Ghoul pulled away and wiped Party’s blood away. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” Ghoul pulled him closer, and Party’s eyes slid glassily to meet Ghoul’s.

    “Don’t… leave.”

    “I won’t. I’m staying right here.” Party’s head drops, and his eyes stare past Ghoul, somewhere far away. Ghoul buried his head in Party’s shoulder, before resting him on the ground and grabbing his gun. Ghoul stood up, glaring at the guys who had shot Party. He got a few effective shots off before he felt a hard hit, then again. He looked down, and his chest was colored red. “Fuck.” He fell next to Party, the lights already fading. “It’s alright. I’m here.” He took Party’s hand, and the world disappeared.

* * * *

    Ghoul woke up on the floor.

    The world was bathed in a dark red, and everything was fuzzy. There was a creaking, like a rusty wheel turning, and a figure came into view. They were covered head to toe in feathers, and hovered a few inches above the ground. The creaking was the squeaky wheel of a cart she was pushing, filled with masks. Killjoy masks.

    “I know who you are.”

    Ghoul’s voice echoed in the silence.

    “Do you now?”

    Her voice didn’t echo.

    “Yeah. I do. The Phoenix Witch. You’re her.” Ghoul looked up at her mask. “Why are you here?”

    “Because it’s not your time. You still have work to do where you’re from.”

    “What do you mean? How are you here? What’s gonna happen to those kids?”

    “Killjoys didn’t create me. But you believe in me. That gives me power. And I can be with you. I am with all of you, always. Even in a different time. A different dimension. As for the kids, that’s the past. It’s not about what will. It’s about what has.”

    “What happened?”

    “The boy who got shot didn’t survive. The rest went back to their old lives.”

    “Why us?”

    “Because you’re the hope for the future.”

* * * *

    Party woke up to Ghoul’s breathing. They were surrounded by dead Dracs, and Ghoul’s bloody nose was still bleeding. Everything that had happened in the last two days, had disappeared. Party pulled up his shirt. There was a scar where he remembered being shot. He remembered Ghoul’s kiss, and remembered how much it hurt to die. “Ghoul?” His voice cracked.

   Ghoul woke with a start, almost immediately breaking into a coughing fit, sucking in breath after breath. He stared at Party for a moment, disbelief in his eyes. Then he hugged him hard, and kissed him harder.

    “Ghoul, what happened?”

    “You were shot. You—You died. Right there in front of me.” Ghoul paused. “Party, I met the Witch. The Phoenix Witch.”

    “What did she say?”

    “They made it. The boys made it. Except…”

    “The kid who got shot.”

    “Yeah. Party, I’m so sorry.”

    Party didn’t look at him for a long while. Then, “we have to get back. Can you walk?”

    Ghoul tried to stand, then shook his head. “Not without you.”

    “Alright. Come on.” Engines sound, and Party groaned. “Please not more Dracs.” Instead, it was two motorcycles, and as they got closer, Party realized it was Kobra and Jet. “‘Joys. It’s Kobra and Jet.”

    “I’m half broken, not fuckin’ blind.”

    “What the hell are you doing?” Kobra shouted, jumping off his skidding bike in true Motorbaby fashion.

    Ghoul let go and leaned on the Trans-Am, and Party pulled Kobra in for a hug, not looking like he was letting go any time soon. Kobra pulled away, stared at his brother for a moment, before punching him. Hard.

    “I deserved that.”

    “Yeah. Ya did. You disappear in the middle of the fuckin’ night, you get yourselves in a clap, you’ve both got the shit kicked outta you, and you expect me not to be mad!”

    Now Jet breaks in. “You dragged Ghoul into this, and now he can’t even stand straight.”

    “Jet, you have no idea. He didn’t even drag me into this. I aske—”

    “Ghoul, it’s fine. You guys are right. I never shoulda even considered leaving the Zones. It’s my fault. All of it.”

    Ghoul knew he was talking about the kid. “No. It wasn’t.”

    “Forget it.” Jet snapped.

    “We’re going home.” Kobra said. “And staying there.”

[khasmc]

[ @autumnswordsman​ asked: Ink still drying from the touch-up, skin aching with a low thrum of pain that’s not entirely unpleasant, Zoro holds the can of cold beer against his neck, focusing on the cold as droplets of water trickled down his bare chest. “You fucked anyone with irezumi before?” he asks, eye trained on the mouth full of jagged, sharp teeth. Languid, interested in just what those teeth could do, and ultimately straight to the point, Zoro opens his beer and licks the foam bubbling down his fingers. ]

| Belligerence | Under the approaching Summer’s eye, Bartolomeo thrived like that of the most stubborn weed, blooming where most opted to rest, preferred a more beauteous path, but not him. Appearance perhaps dramatic, but nothing encroaching like a Nightshade, he thought of Poison Oak— the lush, leafy greens that induced itching in the worst way possible, which about summarized the general populace when it came to a man like Bartolomeo. Too much teeth, too many curses, and not enough finesse in the way they wanted to see molded to the mainstream, but oh— there was also the Pokeweed when he felt especially bubbly, both root and berry with looks that enticed and elicited the most curious reactions until one got too close and opted for a cursory touch, ended up burning in the end for their careless mistake. His looks attracted, not necessarily in a good way, and peopled suffered for their own misgivings.

Bartolomeo offered no mercy, save for a choir of his beloved laughter, invasive and rooting, difficult to eradicate once he’s made a footing. Without swift action, one agonized and it was all the more reason for him to prosper. This became his garden, his Eden of created chaos where most couldn’t understand, didn’t want to. To that end, very few were allowed entry—  could pass underneath the poisoned branches to skim tattooed breath, real and realer, riddled all along the skin.

And life went on.

Now, a different brand of work kept him busy. It was honest and, to be even more honest, far more difficult to navigate than when he had been kingpin. Irony, perhaps, although the satisfaction ran different. Rather than having some ugly mugs kissing rings off his knuckles, he witnessed a new flutter of delight plastered across different faces after a first glimpse of fresh ink, blossomed red and irritated on their skin. It was honest, and it ought to be enough, so he imagined.

Pleasures were pleasures.

Some habits, however, died hard— others couldn’t be killed off no matter how hard he choked them in the water. Once day fell into night and he felt a restless edge line the back of his teeth, he knew where to go. Sports turned into an unexpected outlet and while he understood the rules for what they were, following them as far as he felt, it didn’t mean shit to his teammates, and he couldn’t care less for it either. Ice hockey, football, rugby— he relished the grit, the tamed violence, the stale insults— he parried them all with a telltale laugh, sent them on their ass as the rules allowed and trotted his merry way out the door by the end of a game. Rugby proved especially fitful for that— an alleged ‘gentlemen’ game played by a bunch of brutes and he slotted in just right for that. A ragtag horde of assholes if he ever saw one, which made it all the more easy to knock their teeth in, all under the guise of sport. He received bruises as fast as he laid them out, wondered where this game was all his life when he still cruised the paved streets in Italy.

Just as rugby encroached in his life in a most unexpected way, Zoro dropped in without skill or care, jagged around the corners in a way Bartolomeo recognized. This, too, he relished, and thought most delightful if only for a way to pass the time. Green, inked— any other physical similarity ended there, perhaps. A look lingered, catching on conventionally attractive features where Bartolomeo lacked, and he deemed the evening fruitful.

Stretched out on a spare chair from the studio, legs splayed open, he unabashedly sucked down the remnants of his last bottle of beer before leaving it hooked around his fingers. The tall bright light encompassing this half of the work station played stark lines slotting across Zoro’s exposed skin, creating its own temporary tattoo of shadows that had him wonder how long those other pieces took. The question—a loaded proposal: bold, frank, appreciated— elicited raucous laughter, amusement a giveaway lilting between the syllables, rough as sandpaper. It pulled on barbed edges, borderline grating that revealed the shine of his teeth when he grinned.

“Hehaha~ Nah, man, probably not,” he admitted, easy as his approach while he swept another look down a defined torso. Wore those badges without an ounce of shame. Tattoos and scars bore similar stories; it was all a matter of who told it and what they decided to tell. Briefly, Bartolomeo thought of how he would fare in a rugby match. Absolutely barbarous. “Is it s’posed t’be impressive? Don’t tell me you’re tryin’ to get outta payin’ or some shit with that.”

The words sweltered on his tongue, hanging at the crest that swiped along the pointed edge of flashed incisors. Zoro’s lingering gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed and Bartolomeo wasn’t the type to ignore that sort of attention if he wanted to work it into his favor. Elbows crossed over the back of the chair, meeting a well aimed focus, he felt the same ridges of restlessness compel him back into movement— to motion, causing conflict.

“Say, but how ‘bout piercings? Got any more of those?” he asked. A hand lifted to tug at the gold at his own lobes, allowing a drop of an indulgence gaze and let loose yet another caustic laugh to disturb the air. Equally straight to the point, albeit coarse-minded as any fellow sporting the ostentatious hues of his attire, he was never without his own arsenal of choice words. The edge of the empty glass bottle clinked against the curve of an exposed fang, echoed an invitation. “‘Cause have I got some surprises for ya. So, pay the tab and then maybe we can talk about fuckin’, sweetness.”

[defleurtradingco]

The Merry Month of Mirth- Wretched

(Previous: Motto , Next: Cavity)

“This is the ONLY room in the entire building that’s got enough pure iron in it to hold a fae inside. It’s from the original, I’ve read about it in the blueprints, back in the day they did use to take in faeries or changlings or other strange things in for questioning or to temporarily hold them.” Liam explained as they all peered through the one-way glass.

“It was RARE that we did so.” Fortunato rolled his eyes. “I had someone insist I keep a room like this however, just in case. I must say I am glad it was able to be salvaged from the original building.”

The crimson Jester had been bound to a chair (made of more iron) and left inside to think about what they wanted to say. Every so often they’d struggle and try to break free, but to no avail.

“So far they have decided to say nothing.” Solaina had a hand on her hip. “I am not surprised. I have not figured out how to coax answers out of them yet however. Time is working against us.” They couldn’t keep them locked in there forever, after all.

“Could always just send me in, I know how ta crush a few knees still Solaina, just like the good ol’ days.” Lowrey mentioned casually.

“I would prefer not to resort to violence.” Fortunato shook his head, “Then we will get nowhere.” “Being physically violent typically causes more problems than it solves, Grandfather.” “You are entirely wrong about that-” “Uhm-” Liam glanced upwards at the ceiling lights as they started to flicker. “G-guys-”

The others paused too.

Lowrey was the first to turn around however. He’d heard a sound. One so soft but one he couldn’t quite forget either. The churning of fog and smoke.

A figure manifested from said dark smoke almost immediately, with a calm smile to follow.

The vampire immediately got in front of the others, “Well well look who decided ta drop in. Finally managed ta peel yourself outta your comfy chair in your office?” Lucien sneered towards Lowrey, showing his teeth. “I’d suggest keeping your words to yourself, unless you want to be put back into hospice care.” Lowrey sucked his teeth, “Charmin’ as ever.” “What are YOU doing here?” Fortunato was the first one to brush past Lowrey, even though Lowrey tried to pull him back for his own safety. “You have no business stepping foot onto MY property-” “Save it DeFleur. As if you haven’t come gallivanting into my home before, unannounced. I thought we had a bit of an understanding.”

Before Fortunato could really get riled up, Solaina also stepped forward. “You two realize he could kill you like right now right,” Lowrey also tried to stop her, but it was no use.

“Why have you come?” “Word on the street is you’re having a bit of an issue with these Jesters.” “You know about them?” “Of course. Anyone worth their salt does, that is. Truth be told, I don’t like them any more than you do. I want to get to the bottom of this, quickly.”

Liam held his hand over his mouth as all four of them looked at each other in confusion.

Lucien on the other hand, moved towards the glass window to look in. “Tied him up have we? You really are about as crass as you were back then. Feels like only yesterday, doesn’t it? I’m going to assume you haven’t been successful in gaining any new information.” Solaina furrowed her brows as she wondered just how much he really knew. “You’ve been watching.” “Of course my dear. From afar as always. You think there are any moments when I don’t have at least one set of eyes watching your every move? I assure you I haven’t lost my touch like your dear grand-uncle and his pet dog quite yet.” “That’s a real hoot Lucien.” Lowrey kept his sights firmly locked onto the other vampire. “Considerin’ you’ve let us walk all over ya for the past what, almost eighty years now-”

“Can we please pay attention to the task at hand here,” Solaina nipped that in the bud quickly.

“Let me into the room. I can get us answers in a matter of minutes.”

Fortunato scowled. “I think not. You can wait out here.” “Yes, I can wait out here, you lot can keep taking your chances and when this creature finally figures out how to escape, I will stand there and remind you about how easy all this could have been had we just done it my way. Not that I would have any problems with that. I do love to see your face when you’re angry, Fortunato.”

“Solaina,” Lowrey almost glared in her direction. It was a warning glare no less. The one that screamed ‘don’t do it’.

Solaina glanced back and forth between them, then to Liam, who only shook his head and shrugged in the ‘don’t look at ME’ way.

And after a moment of careful consideration…

She moved towards the control panel and unlocked the door. It hissed open. Lucien smiled.

“Glad to see one of us still has a brain. Thank you dear. I won’t be long.” The head vampire even gave a gracious bow to mock the other two, as he practically slid into the room like a slippery snake. The door shut and locked behind him while Solaina kept her gaze firmly on the goings-ons inside the interrogation chamber.

“Solaina you realize we just locked him in there with a faerie or something right? That’s a full meal right there for him.” Lowrey nonchalantly explained. “Hell I doubt that thing in there’s even a changeling at that point so that just kinda makes it worse.” “We do not have a choice right now. We need his help.” “No we DON’T.” Fortunato growled.

Solaina ignored him however and nodded to Liam, who made sure they could hear the conversation inside.

Lucien paced around the Jester like a wolf around a deer with its leg caught in a trap. They could tell he was hungry. He was getting that look on his face, as well as he tried to hide it.

“So you work for the Jesters and their supposed king. I’ve heard about you. Never met you lot myself, but make no mistake, I know about you.”

The Jester didn’t respond, but kept their eyes on him, always making sure to face Lucien whenever they could.

“I know you have a leader, a king of the fools so to speak. Tell me, who is he? Or she? Or it or whatever. I don’t really care to be frank.”

He came in closer, right in front of the fae and leaned in slowly.

At first the Jester refused to move, then they threw their weight forward in half an attempt to pull free, and the other half to headbutt the vampire.

Needless to say, it didn’t work.

“Fiesty aren’t we? This place is probably getting to you. Everyone who lives around here’s fiesty. It drives me crazy sometimes, but it’s admirable during others, I admit.

Anyway, if you won’t share what you know, I have no problem in taking that from you.”

Lucien suddenly reached out towards the Jester, and without touching them, their body suddenly seized up.

“What the fuck,” Lowrey almost took a step forward as the other’s made equally small movements of surprise. “That’s new,” “Wh-what’s he doing-” Liam bit his lip nervously.

The Jester began to move awkwardly, in a twitchy sort of way. Lucien kept his hand steady the entire time. Smoke began to well at his finger tips, and trails of the stuff inched across the air, straight for the Jester, wrapping around their head.

“So, tell me, is this king of yours a faerie?” The smoke turned into something vaguely claw-shaped and began to squeeze their head.

The Jester grunted in pain and tried to stave it off. But they were wavering already. “N...Not-...telling-” “Oh really?” Lucien’s hand tensed and the shadow-claw dig in further. The Jester bit back a scream of distress. “Let’s try again. Is your king a fae?” “N….N…” “Mm...I see...” Solaina cringed as another scream rung out. “Lucien, don’t.” She said through the microphone. The vampire ignored her. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Th...the king is- fae- yes- l...like us-”

“I thought as much.” The claw loosened minorly, and the Jester slumped in relief. But it was short lived. “And where is your lair located?”

The fae twitched and struggled against him but it really was just that. A struggle. And one in vain no less. Though, maybe not entirely.

“H...hidden...right… right under… your nose. Always...”

“Right under our noses?” Liam repeated. “You think they could mean here on premises?” “Impossible.” Fortunato shook his head. “We would have detected it. It isn’t as if the fae can mask their magics entirely. There is always something. Besides, they do not like us anyway. They would have no reason to be around here.”

“Mm...perhaps further out then?”

Lowrey swallowed and accompanied his own shake-of-the-head with a shrug. “I dunno. First I’m hearin’ of it.”

“I see...” Lucien sighed. “You’re really making me angry. And I don’t like that. But I think I’ve collected enough here.”

The shadow-claw dissipated entirely and the Jester was released from the mind probing. They breathed a sigh of relief and struggled once again to try to break free. But before they could really do anything, Lucien lunged forward, claws extended as he violently pushed the Jester’s head to the side to expose their neck.

Before the blood curdling shrieks could really come through the speaker, Liam muted it and spun his chair around to avoid looking at the obvious scene unfolding in front of them.

Solaina also looked away, face locked in an expression of guilt.

“...I did not want him to do that.” “Yeah well, he’s fuckin’ doin’ it Solaina. Dunno what you expected. Can’t expect anything less from him, you know that.” It was clear Lowrey disapproved highly of the entire situation.

“Poor wretch.” Was all Fortunato had to say. Not that he pitied the fae in there. “Well, if there is anything else we have learned, it is that Lucien has a stake in this as well. How very fortunate for us.”

Solaina ran her hand down the side of her face.

It wasn’t normal for her to need to step out. In fact, it hardly happened.

But this time? She needed to. And nobody seemed very keen on stopping her either.

Liam wrung his hands nervously. “...Uhm how are we… going to get him out of there?” “He’ll leave on his own, when he’s nice n’ full. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Lowrey answered in complete deadpan.