#’what so you’re mad that the vampire serial killer is a bad guy that made his serial killer familiar sad??? 🙄’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.81

Lance was silently fuming in his grave. He’d lost his temper with his friends, and now he’d exiled himself to the backyard to avoid them. He didn’t want to be mad at them, but when they pulled stupid shit and made jokes over becoming a vampire, he couldn’t cope. Coming home to a home that kind of no longer felt like his was bad enough. He’d hoped that what Matt wanted to show him was him kicking Pidge’s arse at some video game and Matt was simply making fun of him. Not this. Not some half baked idea of investigating Lotor. Rieva had been so scared they’d been forced to return to Platt, and now she was happily conspiring with Pidge and Hunk, like that fear didn’t matter. There was a reason hunters existed. They took care of things like this. Not two werewolves and two humans who’d only just found out that things really do to bump in the night. He wanted his life back. He wanted things to go back to hunting dumb ghosts and the occasional yucky feeling of death when they did. Why couldn’t they understand how he felt? He shouldn’t have lost his stupid temper, but being a vampire wasn’t something to joke about.

Being the light of his undead life, Hunk was the one who came to talk to him. Shovelling off Lance’s death dirt, Lance faked death until Hunk made it impossible to ignore him

“Lance... I don’t know if you can hear me... but... Can we talk, buddy? I’m not used to this... You look dead in there and I don’t like how it feels seeing you dead”

That was the nicest thing Hunk had said in ages. That he didn’t like seeing Lance laying in his shallow grave

“I’m not changing my mind”

Hunk sighed, Lance hearing the way his clothes rustled as his friend sat heavily, just short of where he’d dug Lance up

“I don’t like this either... but Pidge wanted to help... and she needs someone there to keep her grounded”

Hunk was good at that. Provided Pidge was still listening and not swept away in an investigation

“She needs to leave it alone before she ends up dead”

“But you’re dead... and you’re okay?”

He wasn’t okay. He’d just gotten very good at existing

“I’m not going to watch her go through what I went through”

“What... I mean, you totally don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I guess... maybe I don’t see the problem with you being a vampire”

Hunk wouldn’t. He saw the absolute best in everyone. Even when they didn’t see it in themselves, he kind of... brought it out of you. Lance couldn’t tell him. He didn’t want Hunk to pity him. He’d barely been able to tell Matt without Keith’s support

“I... I can’t tell you. I can tell she should fear being a vampire. If Pidge was turned, she’d never be the person we know again. That’s if she kept her mind”

“But you... kept yours? You’re not secretly a serial killer are you?”

Lance could almost see Hunk worrying his pointer fingers together

“No. I was turned young. Too young... My mind and body were more flexible. When we get older we get set in our ways. Our sense of self evolves as we grow. That’s the secret to keeping your sanity. It’s holding onto every little bit of humanity you can find”

“That had to be rough... I...”

Hunk was so pure he wasn’t seeing the truth

“You don’t know what to say. You’re cautious. I can hear the way your heart beats increased. I did everything I could to keep you out of this. But that all went up in flames in an instant. Yeah. I knew Matt was a werewolf before he came back. I prayed Pidge wouldn’t find out... and look what that got us. A whole lot of awkwardness and mistrust. You guys can talk and laugh about it because you’ve never seen a vampire properly. You’ve never seen humans paraded around as fresh meals on a lead. You’ve never felt hunger that robs you of your sanity. Pidge only saw a sliver and you were there to witness what that did to her. This isn’t a game and we can’t just drink slushies to feel better after a bad hunt. A bad hunt means you’re dead. Throat torn out for the fun of it... if you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky... it’s not a quick death”

If you’re unlucky you turn out like Adam, but that wasn’t Lance’s secret to share.

Hunk fell silent. Lance’s hearing not good enough to hear the metaphorical cogs kicking over. It was a long moment before Hunk replied

“You’re right. We don’t understand. It scared me when Matt suddenly showed us his wolf. I don’t know how to cope with any of this. I can’t even tell Shay and she totally thinks I’m flaky”

That wasn’t fair. Hunk was only flaky in the sense he was like a warm croissant

“I know. Since I met you guys... I... I was scared. I’ve never had friends as close as family before. I’ve never loved having people around like I love you and Pidge. I’ve spent my adult life trying to atone for what I am. Realistically I should have died when I was a kid. I never enjoyed lying. My ego never thought I was better than you. If anything I envied you both. You both grow old. You grow old and fall in love. You make families and you know love. When you don’t age you get to watch everyone you love grow older and die before you. I love you guys warm and breathing...”

“I don’t think Pidge is going to give up. Her... um... dad... he like knows about this kind of thing. And her mum... she’s pretty mad at both of them”

That made sense. Kind of... He’d thought Colleen and Sam had some sense that he wasn’t human. Though how they knew hunters wasn’t as clear. Platt was a big place. Most vampires and werewolves knew how to keep their heads down when they really needed to

“I love her. I love her and I don’t know if I can support this. I can barely support Keith and he’s been a hunter for years now. I don’t... I spent a long time not being part of that world for a reason. Nothing good ever comes out of it”

“Keith did...”

Touché. Keith and Shiro... they were a different kind of hunter. Eyes opened by personal tragedy that should have left them blood thirsty

“Keith... with him... it’s different. He feels like... he feels like he’s been our friend for years. He was really hurt over what happened. He’s not the best with social cues and friends. He’s been through so much and I was so happy that you guys wanted to be friends with him”

“He’s... nicer then when we met him”

“That’s because he was convinced I was a blood sucking monster that fed on you as you slept”

“That doesn’t make me feel good”

“Relax. I swear I never ever fed on either of you. I had blood bags, and I never wanted to. I wanted to be human”

“Is there a way to cure vampire-ism? Is it “ism?”. Do you guys have like a preferred term?”

“I’m fine with whatever. But no. There’s no cure. I’m as dead as I can be without being in a hole in a ground”

“Dude, you are literally in a hole in the ground”

Touché again. He was kind of cold buried up to his shoulders... His poor death soil hadn’t been taken care of at all. Stupid dandelions had invaded... He’d always kept the garden so meticulous

“I know... Hunk, I don’t know what to do”

“I don’t know what to do either, bud. What would Keith say?”

“I don’t think he’s talking to me. I told him I was coming back here today and he didn’t reply”

“Oh, man... I’m sorry... I didn’t know you two were...”

Two were what? Fighting? Lance thought they’d made up...

“I don’t think we’re fighting... he just normally answers or he’s working... or sleeping. Shiro did get slightly drunk last night”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. Curtis finally took him on a proper date”

“Like in public?”

“No. They went to this underground vampire fighting ring that serves great wings. Yes, in public. Just because Curtis is slightly cursed doesn’t really mean anything”

Lance could hear Hunk scratching the back of his head

“Dude. Relax. I’m joking. Curtis’s curse doesn’t mean he can’t go out and enjoy himself with Shiro. He styled his hair to hide his horn”

“So like curses and magic are real? That’s a real thing?”

“Yeah. I only found out about it not that long ago. Curtis used to be a hunter. I suppose he still kind of is, but he works for Coran now”

“Like you work for Coran?”

Hunk was curious, yet kind of freaked. Lance could hear it in his voice. He’d come out here for peace, but instead found himself having a much needed talk with Hunk

“I don’t work for Coran. Coran takes care of like all the supernaturals and hunters in Platt. I’ve known him since I was turned. He helped me and my family out a lot with adjusting to me being the undead”

“So if anything goes wrong...?”

“I go to Coran. He’d welcome you guys too. He’s heard all about both of you”

“I don’t know how that makes me feel”

“Nothing bad. Just... you guys really mean a lot to me. You’re not the first humans I’ve been friendly with, but you’re the most important people in my life to date. And Keith. I didn’t even tell him I was coming back today. I messaged him... but he didn’t reply...”

Silence fell between them again. Lance content to let Hunk take his time, which he did, before finally starting to talk again

“Lance. Is there a reason you left Platt? If you were happy there... you could have stayed to be with Keith if you’d wanted”

“I was in Platt because Rieva was concerned for our safety with Lotor around. Lotor comes from a really bad family. Like worse than every vampire movie you’ve seen put together. His mother’s worse than Elizabeth Bathory. Hell, she probably got her twisted ways from her...”

“Or from pop culture”

Lance shook his head, sending dirt across his face. That was the trouble with burying himself. Maybe it was time to invest in a nice body bag, or a proper coffin to keep the dirt out

“She’s been alive longer than pop culture has existed. If Lotor suddenly proclaimed she was Elizabeth, I don’t think I’d actually be surprised”

“Is she really that bad?”

“Rieva didn’t tell you? The woman’s got a screw loose up there. More like she’s walked into a hardware store, pulled every packet of screws off the shelf, opened them all, then thrown them everywhere as she then bosses the staff into cleaning up the mess she’s left”

“That doesn’t sound good”

It sounded like a total chaotic shit show. Kind of like how the Blades conveniently marched to the beat of their own drum

“Not particularly. Bud, I know you always see the good in people, but you need to see Honerva isn’t a person. Those invisible lines the of law that keeps us in line doesn’t apply when you’re that powerful. Going after Lotor could bring that madness down on all of you. Not just us, but everyone you love. I’m so happy you and Shay finally started dating, and I’m not telling you to choose but if you ever feel you have to, then please choose her. You two are so perfect for each other. I want to see you grow old together... I want you both to be happy”

Hunk sighed heavily

“I... don’t know if I can ignore what’s happening... I don’t want... I don’t want to see people hurt because I wasn’t brave enough to do something”

Because Hunk loved his friends as fiercely as Lance loved them

“Then... then I don’t know. But don’t chase anything. I can let Keith know, or Coran, but I can’t lose you, even if it makes you hate me. The world is a better place for having you and Pidge in it... always remember that. I’m going to take a nap out here”

Moving seemed like effort. Inside smelt like werewolf. The gremlin was cranky. Here seemed as good as any spot to wallow

“You’re going to take a nap?”

Hunk sounded surprised. Then again, he wasn’t used to Lance napping in the ground. Lance wasn’t used to Lance napping in the ground, but the soil felt kind of reassuring

“It’s fine. I spent three months making this soil. It’s actually good for me. Helps promote healing all that... I’ll be okay”

“I don’t like leaving you in there alone”

Lance snorted, mentally imagining Hunk trying to climb in beside him

“I’ll be okay. Just don’t let Matt pee on me. I think I need some me space”

“Should... should I cover you back up?”

“If you want to. I’m pretty cozy in here”

“But... don’t you need to breathe?”

“Eventually. I breathe. But I can also hold my breath a ridiculous amount of time”

“Dude... that’s so weird”

“Welcome to having a friend who’s a vampire. Seriously though. I really love you guys. I want to be here with you... I... Thanks for coming to check on me. I know this isn’t easy for you”

“Well... like... you know... we’re like best friends... right?”

“Best friends forever, buddy”

** I can’t help it. I love our boy interacting with his besties and being friends again**

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

8 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Ghost Adventures Checks into the Cecil Hotel: Zak Bagans on Investigating the Crime Landmark

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

In Stephen King’s novel The Shining, the Overlook Hotel is an expansive structure with a dark past, located in the remote Rocky Mountains. Despite its opulent beginnings, the hotel becomes a place where brutal murders occur, madness sets in, ghosts lurk, and evil itself is a permanent occupant.

Relocate King’s Overlook to Downtown Los Angeles’ Skid Row, and you have its closest real-world equivalent: the Cecil Hotel. The hotel’s checkered history, and lore involving curses and ghosts, has made it a dark tourism landmark situated at the crossroads of true crime and paranormal fascination. But despite lots of interest on the internet, the Cecil, since rebranded as Stay on Main Hotel, has never officially permitted cameras inside for a paranormal investigation.

Until now. Enter Zak Bagans.

(Disclaimer: I have previously worked with Zak Bagans on television shows, and currently appear as an expert on the Travel Channel series Paranormal Caught on Camera.)

Executive producer and star of Ghost Adventures, the long-running paranormal reality series on Travel Channel, Bagans leads his team of investigators on an exploration of a location he calls “spectacularly frightening” in Ghost Adventures: Cecil Hotel, a two-hour special streaming exclusively on the new Discovery+ service.

For fans of the ghost-TV genre, Ghost Adventures: Cecil Hotel boasts evidence of scratches, disembodied voices, light anomalies, a faucet seemingly turned on by an invisible force, and more. But regardless of one’s personal beliefs about the unexplained, the special lives up to its hype of a “first time ever” examination of the infamous hotel.

Bagans tells Den of Geek the special is also a culmination of a decade-long pursuit that began “before Elisa even died.”

The “Elisa” that Bagans refers to is Elisa Lam, a 21-year-old Canadian student with a kind, sarcastic sense of humor who loved fashion and Harry Potter; she frequently blogged observations about guys she liked, figuring out a place in the world, as well as her own insecurities and mental health struggles. Lam was a daughter and sister, and a real person on a journey of self-discovery before her life ended too soon, and she made the Cecil internet famous.

While on a solo trip to California in 2013, she went missing and died while staying at the hotel. An elevator surveillance video showed the young woman acting erratically as she pushed buttons, paced in and out of the elevator, and even appeared to be hiding from someone. Her body was discovered in a rooftop water tank weeks after she disappeared. Despite her death being ruled accidental, with her bipolar disorder deemed a contributing factor, questions remained as to how Lam could have gained access to the roof or closed the lid to the tank from within.

But before that two-and-half minute viral video made Lam a popular topic for podcasts — and before American Horror Story: Hotel drew inspiration from the landmark’s past — the Cecil’s reputation was more tied to tragedy than travel despite its beginnings in 1924 as an LA destination, complete with a grandiose lobby.

Multiple suicides took place at the Cecil as well as infanticide and the unsolved murder of Goldie Osgood in 1964. Elizabeth Short, aka the Black Dahlia, was reportedly seen in the hotel bar in the days leading up to her murder in 1947, and two serial killers are known to have stayed there – including Richard Ramirez, who committed a murder spree in the 1980s, and the investigation of whom is the focus of the Netflix documentary series Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer.

“I knew the history of Richard Ramirez there, and the deaths, and knew it was a big creepy building,” Bagans says.

Although prior attempts to gain permission to film there had been rejected, he thinks maybe the COVID-19 pandemic and ensuing shutdowns convinced the hotel’s owners to allow it because of the location fee paid by production. “Or maybe they had things happening to themselves and had enough of it,” Bagans says.

Either way, Cecil fits neatly into Bagans’ pursuits, and it comes as no surprise that the hotel has long been on his bucket list. He has a fascination with the darker sides of this world — as well as the next. When not investigating the paranormal on television, he collects and exhibits haunted dolls and possessed possessions, along with “murderabilia” from serial killers, such as drawings by Ramirez.

“I collect his things. I have his death row TV, his sketches, his clothing,” says Bagans before adding, “I study these people.” Bagans says he even visited the Concordia cemetery in El Paso, Texas, where Ramirez “got started” and was said to practice satanic rituals.

As a result, Bagans believes that Ramirez was engaged in a “top-tier possession” with the horrors he was committing ultimately in the devil’s name. Bagans doesn’t give a pass to the murderer but does theorize that the serial killer was generating more negative energy and entities at the hotel.

Saying he believes the Cecil is “saturated with dark energies,” he thinks Ramirez’s satanic rituals added an evil residue to the building. Interestingly, however, Bagans also thinks there’s something supernatural about the grounds upon which the building stands.

Though he references The Shining, he says he also thinks of the Cecil like the vampire-infested strip club in From Dusk Till Dawn. In the final shot of the film, it’s revealed the club sits atop an Aztec temple. Bagans equates the hotel to this, saying it’s part of some ancient “machine.”

“I’ve been to a lot of places throughout the world, but when you walk through the doors of the Cecil Hotel, you know there are other doorways to other worlds,” he says. “If we were to see deeper dimensionally, you would see all these other doors and rooms, and I believe it goes way down into the earth and draws a lot of energy through the earth. It is then magnified by the dark energy and criminal activity of Skid Row, and amplified by the rituals [serial killer] Jack Unterweger and Richard Ramirez did.”

For the Discovery+ special, Bagans says he wanted to be delicate when discussing the circumstances of Lam’s death. He references the hotel’s history of suicide, and murder attributed to temporary insanity, and believes malevolent energies fed off her mental illness and influenced her.

It is admittedly a problematic theory for skeptics and non-believers of the paranormal, but Bagans — like many with lingering questions about Lam’s strange death — looks to her past behavior as telling. Lam had previously disappeared and required treatment but wasn’t known to have suicidal ideations. There were no unusual drugs detected in her system and the initial cause of death was deemed inconclusive.

“It didn’t make sense she was having a manic episode,” he says. “From my research, no one was able to say she had had a manic episode this bad before. If she was having an episode and acting that bad, how could she have taken such a calculated journey to end up in that water tank under that manic sense?”

While Bagans strives not to diminish Lam’s death, he says, “that building has the power to mess with your mind.” During the investigation he says teammate Aaron Goodwin was overcome with feelings of rage, and that his interviewees, including a crime scene photographer, were so disturbed they often needed to leave the hotel.

“You don’t know what you’re feeling there. There’s too many spirits, too much energy.”

Indeed, during the course of the special, the Ghost Adventures crew believe they encounter several spirits, including those of Lam, Ramirez, Osgood, and more.

For Bagans, investigating Cecil, or even conducting interviews about it, only serves to charge the battery of this machine. But, quoting his favorite film, 1992’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula, he says, “there is much to be learned from beasts.” Bagans is seeking to understand the unknown despite the risks.

Whether or not viewers of Ghost Adventures: Cecil Hotel choose to share his paranormal theories about the building — or simply view it as a strange nexus of true crime — Bagans says there is no denying its inescapable reputation.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“You can renovate it, change the name, or paint it a different color, but you’re never going to erase the darkness of the Cecil Hotel.”

Ghost Adventures: Cecil Hotel is available to stream on Discovery+.

Subscribe to Den of Geek magazine for FREE right here!

(function() { var qs,js,q,s,d=document, gi=d.getElementById, ce=d.createElement, gt=d.getElementsByTagName, id="typef_orm", b="https://embed.typeform.com/"; if(!gi.call(d,id)) { js=ce.call(d,"script"); js.id=id; js.src=b+"embed.js"; q=gt.call(d,"script")[0]; q.parentNode.insertBefore(js,q) } })()

The post Ghost Adventures Checks into the Cecil Hotel: Zak Bagans on Investigating the Crime Landmark appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2KEBW7b

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

1 note · View note

miraclejune · 4 years

Text

HERO’S SOUP: Chapter 12

Artist

“Give me my helmet, Seungmin.” the sound of the motorcycle engine slowly deteriorates under the wind. Seungmin was being stubborn again and Chan was not in the mood for any of it. "If I do, will you not follow them like some sort of serial killer?"

Chan clicked his tongue in annoyance. He wasn't having any of this. "Stop wasting my time and give me my damn helmet." his fangs bared as he glared at the witch. Raw anger shot through Chan's veins. Seungmin looked calm but on the inside, he was definitely terrified by the being in front of him. "You know how I fucking hate when someone messes with you guys." he growled breathlessly. Seungmin swallows the lump on his throat. Can’t this person ever think of himself first? Geez.

"As dumb and chaotic as our friends can get, believe me, we know." Seungmin gave his most sincere look, he was being honest.

With a sigh of defeat, Chan turned the key and pulled it out of the keyhole of his bike. "Fine."

“You really need to control your anger sometimes.”

Seungmin smiled from ear to ear making Chan all soft and fluffy inside his dead body. He can’t stay mad at any of the boys. "Let's go home. Jeongin's coming over." Seungmin almost snorted as he saw Chan's cheeks dimpled. Caught off guard, the vampire cleared his throat and proceeded back in the shop. Seungmin tailed him. "Alright, cool." he stopped and turned to his heel. As soon as he made eye contact with Seungmin, who wore a smug look on his face, Chan turned away and tried to find a distraction on the counter. "I'll clean up here, um you go ahead."

"Chan, there's literally nothing there." it was late before he realized it. The counter was as clean and smooth as a baby's bottom. He hadn't meant to do it, he could tell by the look of mild shock on his face and the way his arms floundered. Again, if he was capable of blushing he would be a very vivid shade of red by now.

His ears perked up as he heard a chuckle. That slowly turns into a loud cackle. Seungmin was laughing at him. He faced him, but the witch was already on the floor. He was literally rolling on the floor fucking laughing like a lunatic. In normal circumstances, he would've whooped his sorry ass or yell at him but instead, Chan smiled.

Seungmin was not really a 'warm' person. When they first met, Chan didn’t like the deadpan look on the witch’s face. But as soon as Seungmin entered the room, he started bowing at everyone who greeted him, he's always full of respect. Chan always thought that a person who lowers his head for others will one day reach the highest peak of their life. And that’s when he knew he could trust his life with the witch.

However, there is one bad thing about him. Seungmin was always too serious. Too focused on his career or his goals. The only time he had some good fun was when he visits the vampire and annoys the living hell out of him.

Chan wished he would be more chill. That the witch should do something he likes. Not bury himself under a mountain of thick spell books in his apartment. His wish sorta came true. And he was thankful for it, he may not express it as well as the others but he cherishes Seungmin the most.

“Come on, you crazy fucker. Let’s get going.”

“I still can’t understand why we can’t use your magic transportation thingy.”

“Don’t you have a spell like that?”

“I do but it requires a shit ton of energy.”

“So, my ‘magic transportation thingy’ doesn’t?”

“Chan, you’re a vampire. You’re an immortal idiot that can only be killed with a wooden stake.”

“That doesn’t make me have an infinite amount of energy, and just so you know, it’s a wooden stake through your heart. Name one person who doesn’t die from that, I’m gonna suck my own dick.”

“That’s gay.”

“I’m only gay for myself.”

“Narcissistic nincompoop.”

“Right back at ya.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes and went past Chan who opened the door. He had only taken a few steps away from the entrance when Chan grabbed him by his wrist, alarming him. “There’s something wrong.” An eerie feeling creeped on Seungmin’s spine as he looked back at the vampire. “Oh wait, nevermind.” Chan shrugged and went on his merry way to the living room. Although puzzled by the vampire’s actions he followed suit.

Now that he was well aware of his surroundings, it was quite rowdier than usual. Seungmin snickered, ‘He can tell what’s wrong with just a little change on what he’s used to, what a creep.’

“I heard that.” he looked up and saw Chan eyeing him from his shoulder. Seungmin giggled. He walked to the living room, sat beside Felix and threw his arms around him. The fox involuntarily leans it to the touch. Chan sighed, putting his hands on his waist. Seungmin being all chummy with the others baffled him at first.

The witch wasn’t the type of person who liked skinship, he lacked friends for that aspect too. But, oddly enough, Seungmin grew more and more comfortable with all the touching. It scared the bejesus out of Chan when Seungmin hugged him.

He looks up and smiles at the sight before plopping down the beanie bag.

“So, what’s chaos about?” Seungmin asks. Changbin appears from the kitchen, a cooler on hand. “We’re having a barbeque.” Jisung pops up from behind him, cheeks filled with what seems to be food. He goes to the living room while Changbin saunters to the backyard.

“Weyf wahs dah oksacion.”

“Seungmin, chew or talk. Just pick one.” He rolls his eyes at Hyunjin and takes another bite off the corndog offered by Jisung. “Jisung looks like a squirrel when he eats.”

“Felix, I don’t think that’s what Seungmin said.”

“Aren’t you looking at him? Jisung is a squirrel.”

Minho and Felix bickered at a distance. “I said, what’s the occasion?” he vanishes into thin air after repeating his question, baffling the people around him. Chan shakes his head “You guys either need to get used to Seungmin vanishing mid-sentence or Seungmin should just stop doing it.” He stands up and walks to the backyard, abruptly followed by Minho who was running away from Jisung because he stole the wolf’s corndog.

Chan's statement was agreeable but that didn’t answer their question.

“He went to get Jeongin!” Chan shouted informing the others. “Ah.”

After a short while, Seungmin reappears in the kitchen, Jeongin emerges from behind him. “Jeongin!” Before Hyunjin can even think of throwing himself at the boy, Woojin pulls him by his shirt. “Let’s go!” The rest of them laughed as the alpha literally dragged the poor wolf towards the backyard.

“Why is there a tent?”

The said tent shifted and Chan appeared from the entrance, his clothes were disheveled and his hair was a mess. Jeongin gasped, while the rest of the boys laughed. “Can someone please fucking help me-” 2 sets of hands attached themselves to Chan's upper body. “No, oh god please no.”

“Chantopher, get back in here~ we’re not done yet!”

“Yes, we have a lot of cuddling to do! You're ice cold! You need more cuddling!”

“CUDDLE SOMEONE ELSE AND I'M A FUCKING VAMPIRE I'M SUPPOSED TO BE COLD FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!”

Chan vanished again. Seungmin laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. Hyunjin can’t even breathe.

“But, Chan is weirdly warm.” Jeongin thought.

The rest of them agree. “Well, he can change the temperature of his body. He usually does that when around normal humans, or when some of us feel chilly. Oh, and when he just drank fresh blood.” Jeongin looks at Woojin cutting up the meat on the grill. The alpha’s face was calm and filled with content. It warmed him up.

While Jisung, Chan and Changbin are ‘busy’ inside the tent, the rest of them settle down. Woojin was in charge of the cooking. No way in hell would they let the younger ones cook. The last time they did, Changbin almost set the living room on fire. Heaven knows how the fire ended up there instead.

Jeongin was denied any help and decided to sit down on the grass.

“Wait.”

He stumbled on his butt, pouting up to Minho who offered him a hand. “What? I can’t sit on the ground too?” Minho chuckled and swiftly pulled him up. He unfolds the blanket from his other hand. “Oh.” The boy eventually helped him by flattening the blanket on the grass. Right after he softened the edges, he was tackled. “Changbin!”

He vaguely saw a very scruffy Chan pop out of the tent before Changbin and Jisung enveloped him.

“It’s your turn!” Jeongin whined from underneath, he was not struggling or whatsoever. The guys weren’t putting on a lot of weight on him. What scared him was the figures looming above them.

“Oh god, please no pilling!”

“It’s weird.”

Felix puts a pile of meat on Jeongin’s plate looking at the boy in confusion, “What’s weird?” the fox asked.

Jeongin pauses and looks around. “How human-like you guys act?”

Felix smiled. “Well, we weren’t like this at first.” Jeongin stares at the fox’s freckled face, waiting for him to continue. Felix sighs and sits down beside him, crossing his legs, their knees touching.

“At first, we didn’t know how to act. Especially Minho, who wasn’t used to close contact with humans that much.” his eyes shift to Chan's position. “After we met Chan, he taught us how humans live every day. Even to the smallest detail.” Felix looks down and chuckles. “Minho and I were really sloppy in the first few months. There were multiple occasions where we almost got caught. Chan was always there to pull our ears out of trouble. Oh, and humans can't really process all the magical stuff so that helps too.” the fox let out a deep chuckle.

“Still, no one told me what the occasion was?” Seungmin was right. No one answered his question. “Because you disappeared, you dumbass.” the witch shrugged and eyed them for the answer.

Woojin puts down the tongs with a soft clang. “He asked what the occasion is, Changbin.” all eyes settled onto the wolf, while Changbin’s wary eyes found his alpha’s. The corners of the alpha’s lips were lifted into a soft smile. Changbin scratched his head.

“Well, I kinda found a place for my tattoo shop.”

A lot of cheers and shocked reactions emerged from the crowd. “When are you gonna tell us about this geez!” Ha can’t wrap his head around it. Changbin let out an awkward laugh. “Also, the renovations are done. I just need to install the equipment so I need your help.”

“WHAT?”

“Dude, are you serious?”

“It’s been THAT long!!!!”

“I’m actually offended right now.”

Changbin clings to Jeongin, “B-but! I did ask you guys for your help!”

“Unbelievable.”

“Aren’t we friends at all?”

Changbin cowered onto Jeongin’s arms, the boy chuckled and cooed at the bullied wolf.

“My gosh, Changbin.” even Woojin was in it.

“I’M SORRY OKAY!!!!!”

25 notes · View notes

snugglyporos · 4 years

Text

Okay ya’ll I have to rant for a good minute about the Fate series because my stupid autistic brain has been hyper focusing on it for the past four hours and I need to put these thoughts down or I’ll never get rid of them.

I’m so... disappointed? frustrated? mad? Idk what I think. It’s all of these things to see such a great idea executed so awfully. So lazily. So incompetently.

Because I can’t help constantly engaging with it and going ‘you know, this would be really good if they just did x.’ There’s so many monumental moments of stupidity that I can’t help but go ‘wow that’s dumb as hell.’

There’s a rule in fiction where the larger the stakes are, the more complex and unwieldy it gets, because it effects more things. That’s why usually the best fiction involves low stakes overall, or personal stakes, because you don’t need to then consider the cosmological complications of your story. Having a story that involves magic, time travel, secret organizations, multiple illuminati organizations on top of those, and countless other bullshit does not make for a coherent or compelling story.

I’ve said before that one thing I hate is the idea of a ‘world organization.’ It’s lazy as hell. If Russia and China couldn’t get along when they were both communist, the idea that the entire world with all its varying ideologies and ethnic groups could be run by one group of people is nonsense. People can barely coexist with others like themselves. Furthermore, in our age of nationalism, the idea that say, China would have their top brass subserviant to western illumiati is stupid. It’s also stupid in the reverse. The idea that all of ANYTHING is ruled by one group of people is stupid and it makes you look lazy to write things like that.

Second, trying to put your story in the ‘real world’ or any image of it while claiming that all the world’s mages belong to one organization while ‘the church’ that runs all religions exists is stupid. It defies belief. It also wouldn’t be an issue if they weren’t dead set on trying to explain how this goes on in the ‘real world’.

Also, apparently time travel exists. Also, all of human history was erased. Yet somehow they go back in time, and summon people from the future. You know, going back to a time that doesn’t exist, and summoning people from the future who haven’t been born yet, who also don’t exist. Time travel is ALWAYS stupid. It’s ALWAYS bad. Always. Because the core notions and questions that it brings up immediately reveal why it is stupid. Let’s say you sent one person back in time. If you witnessed it, and didn’t go with them, you should now not exist. Why? Because the act of something being somewhere that it wasn’t before creates a paradox. The only way it doesn’t is if the world you lived in is the same world where they went back in time, and that raises questions about fate and free will, and most authors simply aren’t interested in getting that metaphysical, and as such render their stories incredibly stupid.

But! Let’s try, for the sake of arguement, to put aside all this nonsense. Does the core idea of the story make sense? Are there clear, defined rules? No! Nothing makes any goddamn sense. Apparently, magic exists, but then there are magic circuts, which aren’t explained. The rules about everything is not explained and is frequently contradicted. Example. Who can be summoned, and how? Sometimes, it’s anyone. Sometimes, it’s different versions of someone. Sometimes, it requires a piece attached to that someone. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes, where the person is summoned changes how powerful they are, and sometimes it doesn’t.

But they can’t even get their basic shit right. Example: is Dracula a vampire or is he not? Because the series can’t decide if it wants to allow people from history OR people from fiction to be summoned, it can’t decide if someone like Vlad III is undead or not. Are you going with the version of history where he was an insane, murderous, nationalistic king? Or are you going with the version from the story of Dracula, a work of fiction? You can’t have it both ways!

Here’s another example: can you summon gods or not? Heracles is summoned, and Heracles is a god. He was literally made into a god at the end of his own story. Even if you go ‘well, the version that people can summon is his non-god self from before the end’ he is still a demigod. Which means that you’re now getting into weird territory where it’s unclear who and what counts as someone who can be summoned.

But then you get into having to think about all the weird historical revisionism that the series plays with. Look, historical fiction can be fine. What I don’t understand is the series’ weird fixation with turning some of histories worst individuals into anime girls. You could certainly, for example, make a version of King Arthur where all the sexes are switched. Granted, a whole lot of the story wouldn’t work, because characters like Morgan Le Fay and Mordred no longer work in their story roles anymore. But you could, theoretically do it.

What I don’t get is why the series says, ‘you know who we should depict as a kind and gentle anime babe? Nero.” You know, the Nero who kicked his pregnant wife to death, castrated a man and forced him to marry him, put on plays that people were forced to attend and then executed anyone who yawned or sneezed during his performances, and who built a private lake where the Colosseum now is, put a floating house on it, and had the ceiling have an accurate replica of the starry night sky using precious gems, only to then remark that ‘now I can live like a human being.’ Yeah, that Nero. Clearly, this just screams that we need to depict them as being a kind and gentle ruler, and not say, an unstable psychopath who sees himself as a literal god walking upon the earth.

But that’s not even their worst offence. They turn Elizabeth Bathory into a pop idol. You know, one of histories worst serial killers? The person who had innocent women murdered and then bathed in their blood? Yes, clearly that is someone we should portray as an innocent girl.

And it’s not like history is lacking in great women who did fantastic things. There are scores of heroines to choose from if you want to use them. You don’t need to pick serial killers and sex change the most insane emperors.

But even some of the ones they do pick don’t make sense. Why the fuck is Marie Antoinette considered a ‘heroic spirit?’ If we go by her in popular myth, she’s best known for something she didn’t say, which is ‘let them eat cake.’ Why the fuck did that mean ‘let’s make her someone who is entirely misunderstood and loves the peasants?’ Also, why a ‘rider’ and choose her for that because of her being pulled in a cart to her execution? The fuck?

It beggars belief. It utterly confounds the mind. It’s lazy, and its shoddy. Almost as shoddy as the notion of ‘classes’ which makes no sense and apparently has a heirarchy, which itself makes no sense if the whole point of having people fight is to decide something. Having people fight where someone gets an innately better class at random makes no sense. Hell, having classes at all makes no sense. Having it be okay for the things you summon to kill those who summoned them to win makes no sense, because if all you needed to do was kill each other, you don’t need heroes to do that!

Hell, the fact that they’re fighting over the ‘holy grail’ and that it was made in japan is nonsense already. The holy grail is literally arthurian legend. I know japan gets a pass for this shit, but I don’t know why. Everyone rolls their eyes when they say that ancient egyptians look exactly like modern day japanese people, but apparently it’s also okay that they just straight up steal something from arthurian legend as a premise... and then entirely botch that premise or understanding anything ABOUT it.

Here’s an idea. If you’re going to use the holy grail as your plot device, you know the thing Jesus drank out of at the last supper, maybe don’t then say that people can just make them all over the place? That’d be like if in the last crusade, all of the cups that Indiana Jones found were all capable of being the holy grail. It’s stupid.

Why is it so hard to just do something simple? You don’t need to overcomplicate this shit. Grab some characters who each want a thing they can’t have, have them be represented by some great hero, have them fight for that thing, and you’re done! You don’t need to bring time travel, the illuminati, nonsense magical rules, and metaphysical shit into this!

Again, maybe the creators have no desire to do anything other than try and see how many awful historical people they can put boobs on. It’s starting to remind me of that book that went around a few years back where someone drew history’s greatest murderers as anime babes, so you could see guys like Stalin, Hitler, and Pol Pot as big tiddy anime girls. Why? Idk.

But if the series wants to do that, if all it wants to do is wallow around in its own shit, it’s taking way too much time and effort trying to make up stupid nonsense. It’s just so frustrating and disappointing to see an idea with such promise be farted away by people who clearly do not give a shit about what they’re making in the slightest. It’s a damn shame.

#ooc #rant

4 notes · View notes

youcantkillamutant · 6 years

Text

The Mystery of the Golden Fang: Part 2, The Enlightenment

Part 1: The Collision

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: A girl stumbles into another world. A baby disappears. A private investigator wonders if this will be the case he can’t solve.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, cursing

Words: 9K

A/N: So…here’s another one of those AU’s that absolutely no one asked for! I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening to: Lightyears by Kimbra, Werewolf Heart by Dead Man’s Bones, Bad Ritual by Timber Timbre, and Blood on My Hands by Danielle Parente

Part 2: The Enlightenment

—l—

When a candle burns, even the wind cannot no undo what has been melted by the fire.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 1, 2040

1:02AM

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Hazel’s heart had done more than leap out of her chest. For all she knew the organ had departed her body completely, leaving her gasping and holding the hole in her chest. After N’Jadaka had dropped his…fangs, Hazel promptly took three steps back and clutched the baby so tightly she woke up. Now Hazel focused on the baby’s eyes; wide, brown, round, and curious while she tried to breathe through whatever was happening in her body.

N’Jadaka took a few steps back from the human in confusion. Who is this chick? N’Jadaka had never met someone who didn’t know about vamps. And now this girl showed up with a baby and without a clue. He turned to Shuri in question.

“Shu, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well you have to tell her, especially after that little show of your fangs.”

“Yeah but look at her. She’s having a freaking heart attack. Wait do humans still have those?”

“Yes they do, so just be chill about it. Ease her into it. I’m sure if you present it to her in a rational way she’ll take it well. Probably.”

“Yeah, chill.” N’Jadaka nodded to himself as he mouthed the words again. Chill.

The girl seemed to have calmed down, though she was still taking careful breaths as N’Jadaka approached. He took in her brown skin and broad nose wondering for a moment if she was actually a fairy. He peered around her back for wings, but none appeared, and he resigned himself to having to explain his existence to a human, of all creatures.

“Now, I don’t want you to freak out okay? My cousin and I aren’t going to hurt you.” He approached her short form cautiously.

“Pretty sure those gold fangs beg to differ.” Even terrified and confused, Hazel managed to snark at the stranger. He had just flashed his razor sharp fangs at her.

“That was supposed to be funn––” N’Jadaka threw his arms up in surrender. “Forget it. My cousin and I are vampires, but we won’t––”

“Vampires?!” Hazel’s shriek was enough to startle the baby, but instead of holding a crying baby, suddenly Hazel was holding a whimpering ball of fur. Yelping Hazel squeezed the leather jacket curled around the fur ball tightly. It barked when it fell from Hazel’s arms, and she stumbled back. On the ground was a small jaguar cub; pied and blinking, Hazel couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Luckily, Shuri swept into the conversation.

“Sounds like she’s taking it well.” N’Jadaka curled his lips at the mirth in her voice.

“The kid turned into a jaguar on me! I can’t really keep things ‘chill’ after that.”

“Whatever you say cousin.”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying that baby, turned into that jaguar?” The cub was now playing with Terra, N’Jadaka’s panther familiar. They were a mass of black and golden fur, racing around in circles and nipping at each other’s tails playfully.

“Yep, your kid’s a shifter! Surprise!” Shuri completed the action with a cheesy grin and outstretched fingers while wandering towards the front doors.

“She’s not mine…” Hazel trailed off. She couldn’t find the words, or any words really to describe the hysteria that was going on in her head. Vampire’s are a myth, were a myth up until a few minutes ago.

She’d never thought much of the alley behind The Golden Fang but now she wished she had been smart enough to avoid it. Wherever she was now is proof that that place is not normal. Hazel was tempted to walk outside and see if she would find the same shops across from the club sign, or even walk back to the care center, but something told her that wouldn’t be the case. Hazel had a sinking feeling in her gut that a step out of that door would lead her into a different world.

“You really aren’t from here are you?”

“Where is here, exactly?” caution colored Hazel’s voice as she watched the baby and panther play. Aside from the whole shapeshifter thing, Hazel had never seen any wild animals this close. It was kind of fascinating.

“Metropolis.”

“Like the cartoon?” N’Jadaka couldn’t control his face when he heard the girl’s confused response. She truly didn’t know anything about his world.

“No, its––Haven’t you heard about President Gorya?” The current president was worse than a joke because he took himself seriously, but the rest of the world didn’t. That’s why T’Challa is running. If anyone could make a change, it would be T’Challa. That vamp is too benevolent for his own good.

“Who?”

“What about the Creatures Rights Act?” It was the biggest push from species rights activists at the time and the only bill to pass unanimously. Still, from the look on Hazel’s face, this didn’t ring a bell. The more questions N’Jadaka asked, the more concerned Hazel got. Either this guy was really convincing, or she really is in a different place entirely.

“The what?”

“Tiller Mayhem?” N’Jadaka mentioned the serial killer that had been running rampant, targeting all kinds of low country creatures up until he was caught last year.

“Nothing.”

“Beyoncé?” Shuri had returned from her wandering, slipping back into the conversation with ease.

“Duh! You guys have Beyoncé?” Hazel nearly shouted her response, happy to hear something that finally made sense.

“Yeah she’s the biggest pop vamp in the world.” N’Jadaka could name her last few singles and even knew a few of her songs, but Shuri was the real fan.

“Wait wait, Beyoncé’s a vampire?”

“And a succubus on her mom’s side. What is she in your world?”

“The biggest pop star. A mom. Amazing.”

“She has kids in your world?”

“Yep! A daughter and twins. Blue, Sir and Rumi.” N’Jadaka had heard enough from the girls, and steered the conversation back to answers.

“Back to the original question. Where the hell did you come from and how did you get here?”

“Um, I’m from Ortega,” The blank stares Hazel received from N’Jadaka and Shuri made her even more self conscious. “which apparently doesn’t exist here. As for how I got here…I was on my way home from work and I heard a baby crying.”

“And you just followed the sound?” Hazel could hear the skepticism in N’Jadaka’s voice. She bristled.

“Yes, I followed the sound. I’m not the kind of person to leave a baby in an alleyway.”

“So you find the baby and what?”

“I don’t know. It got a little windy and the next thing I know, you’re walking out for a smoke.”

“Next thing you know? Seriously short stack? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Sounds like a load of––” Shuri stopped N’Jadaka before he could belittle the girl further. She didn’t know the human, but no one deserves to be on the end of N’Jadaka’s righteous inquisition.

“Well I’ve got a theory––” N’Jadaka rolled his eyes at his cousin’s statement. He knew all about Shuri’s theories, and as of late they’d become so ridiculous he was getting concerned about her health. Sure she might be the smartest person in the world, but she’s always been one step away from falling down the rabbit hole and onto the Mad Hatters cap. Shuri’s kimoyo beads rang before he could say anything.

Shuri stepped away to answer the call and N’Jadaka returned his attention to the human. She was small, hence the nickname but something about her was big. Currently she was rolling around with Terra and the baby shifter, giggling as they snuggled with her. N’Jadaka wanted to summon Terra back to him with a kiss of his teeth, but he studied the trio instead. In the ten years Terra had been with N’Jadaka she’d always been a good judge of character. She’d sniffed out plenty of shady club goers and warded him away from even shadier business deals. Now the cat was nipping at this girl from another world and purring louder than he’d ever heard.

“N’Jadaka, that was a call from my brother. Nakia’s back. He wants to––

“Have a family dinner.”

“Well we better get packing. What do we do with the…” He gestured to the human and shifter.

“They’re coming with us. Obviously.”

“So you want me to bring an unregistered human and a random shapeshifting kid to family dinner?” N’Jadaka stroked his chin for a second pondering the consequences.

“You know what, that might actually make things interesting. Let’s do it.” Shuri facepalmed before shoving N’Jadaka.

“You always want to make trouble.” N’Jadaka shrugged.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 4, 2040

4:15PM

The nearly Ivy League college was as crisp as the orange autumn leaves. Crestbay University was one of the top 5 schools in the country and home to the most advanced psychological in the world. Detective Stevens found himself there after two days of gathering information and hitting brick walls.

“Will do Mrs. Okoye.” The bright eyed student bounced on his toes as Okoye raised her brow.

“Professor Okoye.”

“Oh, right. S—sorry Professor.” Light in their eyes sufficiently dimmed by embarrassment, the student practically ran away, and Erik couldn’t resist teasing his old friend.

“Still scaring the freshmen Professor?”

“When it suits me.” The duo shared a laugh, and Okoye jumped right into questioning her old partner.

“What do you need Erik?”

“It’s about a case.”

“Stevens we aren’t partners anymore. You can’t come to me about this stuff, especially since I know hardly any of your work is above the board.”

“I know but, Okoye it’s…I can’t explain this one.”

“The great Erik Stevens can’t explain something? Color me shocked!” Okoye teased, but Erik stood his ground. In all the time they’d known each other, Erik had never met a smarter woman than Okoye. She was observant and a savant in nearly every subject, which made her such an annoyingly amazing partner when they were on the force. Usually he never bothered to enlist any other help for his cases, preferring to handle everything on his own, but this case has stumped him from the beginning.

Hazel Fay had no reason to run away. According to her coworkers and friends, she was happy as a clam. Sure she worked two jobs, but that was more for experience than out of necessity. She didn’t have any outstanding debts, no enemies or secret vices. She was—is a perfectly normal girl who somehow went missing without a trace.

“How much do you know about alternate dimensions?” Okoye fixed Erik with an incredulous look considering the nature of the question and its complete ridiculousness, but when she saw he was serious Okoye sighed and grabbed her bags.

“Lets get a drink.”

“Oakies?” Erik was referring to the southern bar chain known for their hospitality, sleek bartops and haunting musical acts. Okoye scoffed.

“What do we need to go to a bar chain for? I got whisky in my office.”

“Okay Professor.”

Erik ran over the case again in his mind on their scenic walk to her office.

Hazel goes to work all day at the school and then her night job at the care center. According to her coworkers, there is nothing out of the ordinary, no angry parents of crying kids. She leaves the care center at around 9PM, and begins her walk home to her apartment on Lafayette Street. She pauses right in front of the security camera posted outside of the Golden Fang Bar for exactly forty seconds. Her head is tilted, she is listening to something. Finally she moves, but instead of heading home, she ventures further into the alleyway. She crouched down to the ground, grabbed something and holds it to her chest. When she rises from her knees, she disappears.

“She just vanished. One moment she was there in the alley, and then she picks up some black bundle and poof!” Erik relayed all he had gathered about the case to Okoye in the beautiful brownstone home that had been converted into office spaces for the professors and their assistants. He threw his notes on her desk, giving her a chance to peruse them while he sank into the wood and leather chair that sat in front of her desk.

Okoye gestured to the bottle of whisky that sat in the corner of her desk, procuring a pair of glasses while she studied Erik’s notes. Erik poured a finger for each of them and leaned back. Okoye hadn’t changed her office much since he had last been here. The walls were still the same boring white—or eggshell as he was initially informed. A red and gold tapestry hung on one of the walls, glittering in the sunlight that streamed through the open window of the room. Her wide wooden desk was littered with rhino trinkets, pens, and golden bits and bobs.

“That is…strange. This whole case is…odd.”

“That’s an understatement. Look, Okoye I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t run through every logical possibility. No one at the bar even saw the girl. They’ve got nothing.” Okoye nodded gathering her thoughts on the case. It was strange. The girls in Erik’s cases don’t just disappear without a trace like this. Sure they’re hard to find, but there are breadcrumbs to follow. This video leaves nothing.

“I’m a layman’s physicist in comparison to your connections. You should talk to an actual award-winning one.” Erik knew who she was hinting to, but he played dumb.

“You should talk to Nakia about this.” Erik didn’t shake his head at Okoye’s suggestion, but he didn’t nod either. The last person he wanted to think about was Nakia. Super-spy extraordinaire. Award-winning physicist. The first and only woman to break his heart. The reason he works as hard as he does now.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe, but she can help with this. She would want to, if it helps you find this girl.” Okoye knew this wasn’t the answer he was hoping to find with her, but she was never in the business of biting her tongue to please others. Erik needed help and she didn’t have nearly enough knowledge on the subject he was looking into to give him a useful answer.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Erik slammed back the rest of his whisky, gathered his notes and waved Okoye goodbye.

“See you around Professor?” She smiled, all teeth and mirthful eyes.

“If you can find me Stevens.” Erik rolled his eyes at the jab and pulled out his phone, dialing the most recent number he found for Nakia before the whisky wore off.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 7, 2040

2:05PM

“It’s been a week and I still haven’t seen my daughter Harley.” A week. A full seven days of sleepless nights and endless searching for Ayana. Harley didn’t know what was real and what was a dream at this point, but she still kept searching. She conferred with every deity she could get in contact with, wrote every witch within a 100 mile radius, hell she even prayed. Still, Ayana never showed.

“You don’t think I’ve been looking?” Killmonger didn’t know what the witch had been doing since she’d thrown his baby into nowhere and he didn’t give one flying fuck. He’d gone too long without his daughter, too long without hearing her laugh or seeing her gummy smile. Hell he’d even take her teething cries over the silence that filled his house now. But the witch had no leads and he couldn’t find her scent. It was like she just, disappeared.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing much of anything.” Finally Harley snapped. After a week of his snide comments and shitty treatment, Harley whirled on the Tribal Leader with a snarl.

“Fuck you ‘Monger.” Killmonger twitched, arms reaching out to grab Harley’s neck before the door to the Golden Fang swung open.

“Well, well, well. What’s a guy have to do to get a drink in this shitty little town?” The white man wore a bright white cut adorned with fringe that didn’t deserve to see the light of day and obnoxious gold epithets on his shoulders. A patch of blood and bone was stitched in a jagged line on the back of his leather cut along with an embroidered name: The Poachers. The man wore his bloody cut and his deranged smile like an accessory. He didn’t make it to the bar before the Jags stood, blocking his path to the bar.

“Poacher’s ain’t welcome here.”

“Oh come on boys. I just want a little drink.” The man gave a small grin, revealing yellowed teeth and a few silver caps.

“No.”

“What’s up your ass? Your old lady ain’t doing her job?” The man waved to Harley, and she nearly lunged for the idiot. Killmonger is the last man she’d ever––

“Oh I know what it is! You lost your kid right? Left her with some witch? God, I’ve never met a shifter stupid enough to leave their kid with a witch, but there’s a first time for everything, right?” This time Harley did lunge. The Jags weren’t expecting anyone to break through from the back, and she got a solid punch in before W’Kabi, Erik’s right hand man, pulled her back behind the wall of Jags.

“Out.” Harley examined the blood under her nails, barely recalling the scratch she had gotten in before W’Kabi pulled her off of the Poacher. The man continued to speak, but Harley ripped herself from W’Kabi’s arms. Stomping out of the back door, pushing hard enough to hear it slam into the side of the bar as she made her way out to the dry dirt.

The Vibranium Babes had a bar just across the street, and Harley stomped her way to the bar. The bar was more of a club in the sense that it was always a little dark and had way too much chrome for a tiny town in the mountains, but Harley liked it. The music they played was a mix of bass electric and bubblegum pop that made her want to bob her head and grin at the same time. Ayana used to love walking by here on the way back to the Golden Fang. That thought was enough to sober Harley and she pushed her way to to back of the club where Shuri’s office sat.

The door glowed purple from the inside out but Harley couldn’t hear a sound. She knocked just below the sign that read: ‘Boss Babe’ and pressed her hand to the door as she waited. She tried to use the cool metal to calm herself and focus her energy. Right now, her powers were going haywire because every single thing she had built for herself in this town was going haywire. Even before she became Harley, Harley couldn’t remember a time where she felt so hopeless. Killmonger hated her even more, and Ayana wasn’t there to soften the blow. As she recalled his words, each one hurt a little more.

“Harley? Come in.” Shuri got one look at the girl and pulled her into her office. She guided them both to a plush purple couch sitting beside her and tossing Harley a pillow to hug. She latched onto it immediately.

“Shuri, I need to do a spell.”

“Harley spell working is too dangerous—” Harley knew spell working was dangerous. She knew every risk from growing addicted to perils of white magic to growing three extra arms and an antenna. None of that mattered. Or the risk was worth it all. Ayana had become everything to Harley, and the longer she was away, the tighter the noose squeezed around her heart.

“I don’t give a fuck Shuri. I have to do something. I have to find her!” Shuri inhaled and held Harley’s gaze. On a good day, Shuri wouldn’t never even begin to entertain the idea of spell working. Ritual magic and energy flow are the safest options for a witch like Harley, but those take time. Time that Shuri could tell they were running out of. Killmonger would lose what little patience he had, and even Shuri couldn’t guarantee Harley’s safety then. On the exhale, she relented.

“We need to go see Oma.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 8, 2040

5:09AM

“I’m just saying her presence proves my theory that multidimensional travel is possible!”

“Shuri, I love you, I do, but her presence proves nothing. What if she just has amnesia or something?”

“How many humans have you seen walking around unchipped and unregistered? And when’s the last time you ran into a jaguar shifter? You know I’m right N’Jadaka.”

“I know a lot of things, but that ain’t it.”

Hazel Fay was amazed to learn not only that vampires existed in whatever world she stumbled into but that they can walk in the sunlight without problem. Though most of them tended to be nocturnal, apparently they travelled in the daytime. Hazel and the baby, which she had taken to calling ‘Bug’ where ushered into a sleek black car by N’Jadaka and Shuri. Upon entering, the car released a mist of something Hazel couldn’t quite place, and then N’Jadaka and Shuri were back with suitcases packed, Terra climbing into the backseat with Hazel and Bug as they set off to…wherever they were going.

N’Jadaka and Shuri have been bickering ever since from the front seat. In an instant it dawned on Hazel that she should have never gotten into the car. Hell she probably shouldn’t have said anything to these vampires at all. Hazel whipped her phone out of her pocket, frantically pressing the home button, but nothing appeared. Either it was dead, or it didn’t work in whatever world she was in right now. Hazel only had a moment to panic before her mouth whizzed past her brain.

“Where the hell are you taking us?”

“T’Challa’s house.” N’Jadaka sighed in annoyance, though he was happy to get some entertainment from the human. He was beginning to wonder if she had fallen mute.

“Which is where?” Hazel did her best to remain polite, she really did, but vampire or not this guy is an asshole.

“Considering you don’t even know where Metropolis is, I doubt you’re going to know where to find Wakanda.”

“Then show me. I’m sure it’s not that difficult.” Hazel was one snarky word away from flicking the back of N’Jadaka’s ear no matter the consequences.

“She has a point cousin.” In an instant, the entire front seat turned to face Hazel, the baby, and Terra. N’Jadaka looked sufficiently annoyed and Hazel was beginning to wonder if that was just his face. Shuri on the other hand had her left wrist outstretched, a bracelet of thick black beads emitting a soft blue light.

“This is our travel plan.” An image of a map projected from Shuri’s bracelet this time, bright, blue and bold. Hazel could see a continent that looked to be like Africa, but the States, or what was the States in her world, was all messed up. The east coast ended where Virginia might have been, Florida was completely gone, and the midwest had become and island somehow.

“We started in Metropolis, obviously. And we’re headed to Wakanda the second largest vamp city in the world. It’s in Cafria, just about 5,000 miles east.” Shuri pointed out Metropolis, which looked to be where New York city would have been in Hazel’s world. then she pointed out Africa, or ‘Cafria’ as it was called here, as their destination.

“How long will it take?”

“A couple of days give or take. As long as the weather holds we should be fine.” Shuri waved off the weather like it was nothing and pulled out a piece of small circular technology. She leaned forward towards Hazel and held it up to the window. Hazel’s eyes widened at the invasion of personal space, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Shuri’s eyes. they were yellow and orange, like flecks of fire dancing from a flame. Chagrinned, Shuri directed her attention to Hazel.

“Do you mind if I plug this in? I want to charge my kimoyo beads before the flight.” Hazel shrugged and watched the girl place the tech onto the window. It only took a second to pulse blue and then it began to hum. The sound was nearly silent, but Hazel watched in awe as Shuri pulled off her bracelet and held it to the tech. The bracelet latched on like a magnet and Shuri leaned back, pulling down the shade by her face. Self driving cars and solar power. To Hazel this was more futuristic than she expected for another world.

“Solar charger. It’s my newest prototype. Adding the magnet is always tricky with everything else going on in there, but I think it’ll hold.” Shuri explained when she saw the look on Hazel’s face and again wondered where in the universe this girl came from. She very clearly wasn’t a part of their world, despite what N’Jadaka might think. This girl wasn’t meant to be a part of their world and it’s only a matter of time before fate pulls her back to wherever she truly needs to be. Shuri wanted to be the one to see her back to her world and maybe even get a glimpse of it in the process.

Hazel nodded gratefully at the explanation and watched Shuri lean back in her seat again. She watched as the girl closed her eyes, and watched even closer as her breathing evened out. As far as she knew vampires don’t just sleep in the open, so Hazel had to wonder what the hell she was doing.

“You staring at my cousin pretty hard. You into her or something?” Hazel whipped a side-eye at N’Jadaka. Sure the girl was cute and they looked to be around the same age, but as of right now, she was in another world. The last thing she’s focused on are prospective partners.

“No. It’s just…In my world, Vampires only sleep in coffins. Or upside down. And they can’t go out in the sunlight either.”

“The vampires in your world sound like pussies.”

“Yeah well it’s not like they’re real anyways. At least not in my world.”

“You’re serious about that? No vampires in your world?”

“No magical creatures at all. Why?”

“I don’t know, I just can’t imagine a world without us, and creatures like us. I mean sure I could do without the Stokers, but compared to the fae, they aren’t so bad.” Hazel’s brain spun at the mention of fae and a world with magical creatures before her mind caught on a question.

“Stokers?”

“Yeah the European vampire assholes that love to try and gentrify anything they deem ‘in desperate need of repair’. Those are the ones that can barely tolerate the sunlight, though they still bring their undead asses out on occasion.”

“Wait, there are different types of vampires?”

“Not genealogically, for the most part we’re the same, these are just our…cultural differences.” Hazel raised her brows in an effort to get him to elaborate and after a moment of annoyance that he had to explain anything at all, N’Jadaka relented.

“Okay so, you’ve got the Stokers––”

“European assholes.” Hazel covered the baby’s ears as she said the last word, even though Bug was fast asleep. N’Jadaka almost smiled.

“Right. Then the succoyants. They came from the islands and pretty much dominate the south nowadays. And lastly you’ve got The Adize. My people. We came from Wakanda, and all over Cafria.” Hazel heard the pride in N’Jadaka’s voice.

“So what makes you special?”

“Well, in our legends, we turn into fireflies. We dance along the plains, flying free until we need to feed. Then we can fall into whatever form suits us best and…eat.” N’Jadaka leaned closer to Hazel as he told the story, laughing a little when she jumped at his final words. She was easy to scare. He tried to get a whiff of her scent, but remembered the scent blockers they’d doused her and the baby with. She’d have to remain a mystery.

They pulled up to the tarmac smoothly, Shuri jolting out of sleep the second the car stopped. Hazel peered out the window taking in the small, sleek black jet. It was the only plane on the blacktop and for the first time Hazel wondered just who she was traveling with. Peeking down at baby Bug, she was happy to see the kid was still fast asleep. Terra was too, and she didn’t envy N’Jadaka having to wake her up to get her on the plane.

“This is us.”

“Are you guys rich or something?” Shuri laughed and turned to N’Jadaka, gracefully twirling out of the car and towards the jet.

“You want to handle that one cousin?”

“We’re comfortable.” N’Jadaka shrugged under her scrutiny, then shook himself and sat taller. No human is going to make him feel any type of way about his money. Hazel couldn’t stop digging.

“How comfortable?”

“Let’s just say, Wakanda treats us like kings.”

“So you’re what? Vampire royalty?” Hazel watched N’Jadaka shrug his answer with rapt attention. He was being way too casual about this for it to mean nothing.

“Of a sort. My father was a prince. We tend to live in an…elevated economic status than some of the other vamps.” Hazel couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Not that N’Jadaka noticed, he was busy checking the flight plan on his kimoyo beads.

“Now I know you’re royalty.”

“Why?”

“Because when you talk about certain ‘economic circumstances’ you sound like a media trained asshat.” Hazel’s hands went right over Bug’s ears again.

“Charming.” N’Jadaka stopped Hazel’s questioning with a sneer. He’d be damned, well even more damned than he already is, before they messed up their flight plan. He hefted Terra over his shoulder and nodded to the attendants. They grabbed the luggage and hurried to the plane as Hazel scrambled out of the car, baby in her arms.

“Please tell me you know what a plane is.” Hazel rolled her eyes at N’Jadaka’s condescension.

“Oh fuck off.” Of course, that’s when Bug decided to wake up.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 8, 2040

9:22AM

“Kia.”

Erik was surprised that the phone only rang once after he finally mustered up the courage to call. Nakia’s voice hit him like a hurricane, strong and quick and biting. It took him four days to make this call, and he wasn’t proud of it. Erik had never been anything but bitterly independent, but when Okoye couldn’t help him and he spent another few hours beating his head against the wall and watching a tape that made no logical sense, he gave in and called.

“I told you to stop calling me that E.” Her words wore annoyed but Erik could hear the smile creeping through her voice. He grinned into his own response.

“And I told you to stop calling me that.” The line was silent after that, and Erik remembered why they had stopped talking. They had never been a great match, but convenience makes fools of us all. Not to mention their family history.

“Why are you calling me Erik? I thought––” He didn’t have the hear the rest of the sentence to know how it was going to end. I thought I made everything clear the day you lowered my father into the ground. Erik knew he shouldn’t have called. Hell, he hated that he needed her help, but Jules Fay had called everyday since she first came to his office, and Erik was sick of filling her with non-answers and disappointment.

“I need your help. It’s about a girl.”

“Seriously?” Erik cringed at her tone, sharpened to a point he couldn’t stand.

“A missing girl. I think she’s in another dimension.” Nakia didn’t laugh or call him crazy, but he didn’t expect her to. She’s not that kind of person. She’s too smart to pass judgement without analyzing all of the factors.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s just disappeared without a trace Nakia. She’s not like you, she couldn’t have done this. She’s got no priors, no secret lovers, no enemies. She volunteers on the weekends and works with kids night and day.”

“She sounds like a saint.” Nakia was intrigued. She’d worked plenty of missions that involved finding people that couldn’t be found, but in her research, she’d never come across something like this without a clear explanation. She could understand why Erik was stumped.

“Exactly. There is no reason she would have been targeted. No reason for her to be taken.”

“People are crazy.” Nakia offered this up delicately, knowing the answer wasn’t in her words but giving them anyway to fill the silence.

“There was no one in or around that alley Nakia. She’s just…gone.” Nakia hesitated. Erik sounded weary. Erik Stevens was never anything but resolute and elegant, but now, he was weary.

“Send me the tape.” Erik’s breath crackled over the line.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“I know.” Erik went to pull the phone from his face, but Nakia stopped him.

“And Erik? If this is an impossible case, you need to stay open to all possibilities.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 10, 2040

3:27PM

Cafria is hot. Hotter than any place Hazel has ever experienced. It’s a crisp, dry heat that made her want to moisturize every five minutes. Her fingers swelled the second she stepped off of the plane and her phone burned a hole in her pocket. N’Jadaka and Shuri didn’t seem to share her sentiments. They waltzed off of the private jet with grins to rival a crocodile’s and they stretched like cats in the sun. Their eyes looked more gold than brown in this place, and the pair thrummed with a new kind of energy. Something magical, like they could become anything at any second, and no person or thing would be able to stop them.

After boarding yet another private plane to Wakanda, the quintet landed quickly and made their way into a private limo. Or what Hazel assumed was a limo in this place. It was just as sleek and black as anything in Metropolis, and Hazel pressed her nose against the window to watch the world fly by. Luxurious lakes reflected the pristine blue sky, and that soon gave way to rolling verdant hills with elegant horses galloping through them. By the time they reached the gate, Hazel had to sit back in her seat. Dazed and glutted by the beauty of this place called Wakanda.

At the gate, Shuri mumbled a few words in a language Hazel couldn’t understand and the wrought vibranium gates slid open. N’Jadaka studied this human take in the opulence of the estate. The car glided to a stop and the group made their way out of the car quickly. Hazel, clutched Bug in one arm and the other was free to feel the Wakandan air. Palm fronds of every shape and size enveloped the entryway and N’Jadaka watched as the girl reach out and touch them. She rubbed them between her fingers like she’d never seen a tree before, and once again he had to wonder just where she came from.

T’Challa and Nakia, the Scientist and the Spy stood together, looking just as picturesque as their palatial home. Smiles were plastered on their beautiful black faces, and they almost looked normal, human. All it took was another glance for Hazel to reconsider that thought. Golden eyes glittered like jewels in flawless faces and Hazel slowed her approach, falling behind N’Jadaka and Shuri.

“Sister,” The tall man pulled Shuri into a hug while the woman watched on. Then he turned his attention onto N’Jadaka. “Cousin.”

“Wassup?” N’Jadaka nodded and went for a handshake, finally revealing Hazel, who stood with Bug in her arms while Terra purred at her feet, tail flickering around her ankles. The lean man pulled his face into a judgmental visage of furrowed brows and downturned lips. Hazel didn’t bother waving, instead taking in the grandiose foyer. Dark wood melted into gleaming tile and mirrors reflected the setting sun through the tall french windows.

“This is not a BYOH cousin. We have plenty of blood for––” Shuri shoved T’Challa on the shoulder and though his face conveyed brotherly annoyance, he stood rooted to the spot.

“She is not a blood bag brother. She is proof!”

“Proof?” Hazel never thought someone could raise their eyebrow wearily, but here she was, seeing it happen. Maybe it’s a vampire thing.

“Yes, they are proof that multidimensional travel is possible.” N’Jadaka face palmed while T’Challa sighed. He should have known by now to remain unsurprised by Shuri’s…hypotheses, but he still hasn’t mastered complete control of his reactions. Still, this is better than when Shuri designed that––T’Challa stopped himself before he walked too far down memory lane.

“Why don’t you all come inside and we can talk over breakfast?” Nakia finally spoke, voice even and only slightly commanding. As though her word was law, T’Challa nodded and followed her into the house. The trio followed suit, Hazel gripping Bug a touch tighter than necessary.

The hallways were painted blue laced in gold trimmings and peppered with greenery. Hazel couldn’t imagine living in a place this pristine. Paintings hung from the walls and silvery glimmering busts stood in the corners. It was like walking through a museum. After what felt like a mile long walk to Hazel, the group made it to the dining room. Terra darted to a silvery bowl filled to the bring with wet food and the rest of them took their seats.

Hazel sat Bug up in her lap, waving away the highchair Nakia offered. She felt safer with the baby in her arms. Even if said baby could turn into a jaguar. The table was laden with all manner of breakfast foods. Sausage and bacon and eggs and pancakes steamed from their places on the table, but Hazel caught sight of something else. Pastries were piled high on three trays to the right of her. Perfectly laminated croissants, fluffy muffins, and glossy danishes filled to the brim with bright fruits beckoned her to take a bite, but N’Jadaka stopped her before she could reach for one.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” N’Jadaka had been watching the girl through all of this, and he had to admit he was impressed. Most humans would have run away screaming if the T’Challa Udaku had referred to them as a blood bag, but this girl…Hazel, didn’t seem to know what the hell we were talking about at all. It wasn’t necessarily refreshing, but it was interesting.

“Why not? I’m starving” Hazel nearly bit N’Jadaka’s hand off of her shoulder. She hadn’t eaten since…There had been snacks on the plane, but she’s hadn’t had a real meal since she was back home. Before she came to this world, she had plans to make soups all weekend and freeze them for the months to come. Now Hazel wondered if she’s ever get home again.

“Some of the ingredients might not sit well with you.” N’Jadaka had seen human get sick from eating their food, and he didn’t need to see it again.

“Which ingredients?”

“The blood mostly.” Hazel balked and N’Jadaka barked out a laugh. Now that he mentioned it, Hazel could see the pastries had a slightly pink tinge to them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and let Bug play with them for a bit while she tried to reason with her grumbling stomach.

As if she could read her mind, or hear her stomach, Nakia placed a plate in from of Hazel. It was piled high with fruits and bagels without a bloody tint to them. Hazel gazed up to find herself captured by golden irises as she thanked the woman. Nakia nodded with a small smile, happy that N’Jadaka brought a human with manners this time.

“So, who exactly are you?” Nakia said this after she was seated next to T’Challa. Her tone was kind but her brow was raised high enough to make Hazel want to curl in on herself.

“My name is Hazel Fay. I’m from a town named Ortega, which apparently doesn’t exist here.” Of all the things Hazel couldn’t wrap her head around in the this place, the fact that she was no longer home was the hardest. In fact, home doesn’t exist, or never did exist in this place. According to Shuri and N’Jadaka.

“N’Jadaka found her in the alley of the Golden Fang. With a baby shifter. On a full moon.” Shuri’s emphasis on her last few words made Hazel wonder just how much she was missing, but everyone else at the table looked just was clueless as she felt. Bug wiggled in her arms, reaching for the plate in front of her. Hazel pulled the muffin into bits and handed them to Bug, happy to see the baby eating without problem. The last thing Hazel wants to worry about was a baby who wouldn’t eat.

“And you just appeared here?”

“Yes Nakia! Her presence here is a matter of the divine. Bast herself brought her to us, for some…reason.” Shuri said all this with excitement, but N’Jadaka couldn’t resist a snort. He loved his cousin, but sometimes she let her scientific ideals blind her to reality. This human still hasn’t proven much of anything yet.

“We still don’t have proof that she isn’t from our…world.”

“And that’s where you come in, Brother.” SHuri turned to T’Challa with a grin.

“What is the perfect candidate going to do to prove your theory Shuri?” N’Jadaka’s voice was teasing and Shuri rolled her eyes. T’Challa and Nakia watched on in silence, apparently used to this kind of thing.

“Aside from being the perfect presidential candidate, my brother is a scientist too.” After relaying this information to Hazel, Shuri turned to N’Jadaka with a childish sneer.

“T’Challa is going to scan her and ensure she isn’t in the system. She won’t be, but until N’Jadaka gets his head out of his A-S-S and learns to trust me, we’ll have to waste time.” The man in question rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Hazel was grateful that Shuri spelled out the curse word and couldn’t help but giggle a bit at their interaction. T’Challa on the other hand took charge. He turned Hazel to face him and raised his arm.

“I suppose a retina scan cannot hurt.” T’Challa pressed a finger to his kimoyo beads and a thin blue bar moved over Hazel’s eyes before she could blink.

“Brother just scanned your eyes and is running them through the system. Every creature in or world is registered from the moment of their creation, though only certain beings have access to certain databanks. As a high ranking vampire official, T’Challa has access to everything.” Shuri finished her spiel with a prideful wave, but Hazel could only nod slowly. Just as she thought she was getting the hang of this world, something new popped up. There was a quiet rumbling sound, like the bead was calculating before it released a long beep.

“No Record…”

“Ha! No record, which means she is not from our world because every human in our world is registered. It is impossible not to be.” N’Jadaka huffed when Shuri turned to him with her hands on her hip and a smirk to rival his own.

“Fine Shuri, you were right.”

“If she isn’t from this world, how did she get here in the first place?” Nakia asked this quietly leaning back in her chair as she observed the scene. T’Challa and Nakia had always encouraged Shuri’s natural curiosity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the hypothesis that would get her in trouble that they couldn’t get her out of. She prayed to Bast that that day would never come, but looking at this unregistered human had her heightened senses on alert.

“And how do I get back?”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 11, 2040

5:12PM

Four days. Harley has been hiking for four days. Four days in the Calawuga heat, marching on the hardened soil in barely broken in boots. All to see the mystical Oma. Whoever the fuck that is. To be fair, Harley had a vague inclination of who Oma is; a mountain witch with ties to the Great Gorilla tribe. That’s as much as she knew off hand, and after four days of hiking with Shuri, her curiosity won out over her pride.

“So, why exactly are we going to see Oma?”

“She’s the Queen of the Great Gorilla Tribe.” Shuri said this like it was common knowledge, which in part is was. The Great Gorilla’s kept to themselves for the most part, but the town knew their hierarchy. M’Baku was king and his Queen, Oma was the most powerful witch in the town. The only reason Harley hadn’t gone to Oma in the first place is because of the falling out Killmonger had with M’Baku when he decided to marry Oma. The man hates witches so much, he let it ruin his best friendship.

“And?”

“Seriously? You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.” Harley’s annoyance seeped into every word but Shuri shook her head.

“Aside form being a crazy powerful witch, she’s one of the only witches who’s messed with spell work and white magic. Well, one of the only ones who’s lived to tell the tale.” Harley was impressed to say the least. She’d never even bothered with withe magic, the idea of it was more than enough to put her off. White magic or spirit magic in some circles, is more than dangerous. It’s a brush with death. Speaking to the dead is almost always more trouble than it’s worth and Harley never needed the power that came with that kind of magic. That is, until now.

“I can’t believe Monger didn’t tell you.”

“It’s not like he’s my biggest fan Shuri.” Shuri snorted, but in a way that challenged Harley’s statement.

“Shuri, the man hates me.”

“He really doesn’t. He’s just––” They heard the vocalizations before Shuri could get another word out. In a minute, they were surrounded.

Queen Oma of the Great Gorilla Tribe lives deep in the Calawat mountain range. A four day hike will get you to the boarders of her land, but it will take another six hours by foot. Maybe seven if you’re surrounded by an elite force of Calawugan warriors. When the pair were initially surrounded, Harley began sizing up her opponents. They were big, and fierce, but Harley thought with the right amount focus, she could take them. Shuri stopped her before it could come to that, speaking to the warriors in their native tongue, promising them that the duo meant no harm and only requested an audience with the Queen.

They were brought to the palace, a wooden masterpiece that sat on the second highest peak in the mountain. The highest peak was reserved for Hanuman of course, their Gorilla headed god. The halls of the palace were light and open, far from the fortresses of the tribal bars back in town, and Harley marveled at how deeply she could breath the mountain air. It had been a while since she had taken a breath not filled with the scent of smoke and booze.

Their audience with the queen was granted after a moment of waiting and they followed their craven of warriors into an octagonal room. In each wall rested a window and above, the ceiling fell away to nothing in the middle. It was reminiscent of a roman atrium pillars, wooden instead of stone, and the ground paved smooth.

“Queen Oma, we thank you for meeting with us.” The King was nowhere to be found but taking in the woman Shuri called queen, she didn’t find that strange at all.

Queen Oma stood tall on a rug woven with fresh palm leaves and a crown resting on her head. Small skulls the size of Harley’s palm dangled from the regent’s ears and she granted Shuri a closed lipped smile.

“Shuri, I trust this is important. It is nearing the end of hunting season you know.”

“It is Queen Oma.” Harley was surprised to hear that Shuri never dropped the title of Queen with Oma. Shuri would grant anyone else a ridiculous nickname, but with the Queen, it was only respect.

“My friend and I,” Shuri waved to Harley, and Harley curtsied for lack of better ideas on how best to show respect. “we need your advice spell working.” In an instant, Queen Oma turned her gaze to Harley.

“You want to do spell work? Why?” Bright brown eyes captivated Harley, causing her to scramble for words while Shuri nudged her arm.

“My…” Harley reached for the words to best describe what Ayana was to her, and then decided to avoid that rabbit hole completely.

“I need to find someone. She’s disappeared.”

“And you think spell working will help you? Why?”

“I––I don’t know what else to try.”

“Scrying.” Harley knew what scrying was, a certain type of meditation witches could use to see the future. Harley also knew that she couldn’t do it.

“My energy isn’t particularly inclined towards premonition.”

“It’s a good thing that scrying isn’t solely for premonition then isn’t it?” With a nod, Oma had the room cleared. Only Shuri, Harley and Oma stood in that large rotunda.

The night sky loomed overhead, stars winking into existence here and there. Scraping sounded from the right and before Harley could fall into a defensive position at the sudden sound, Oma stopped her with a hand. Oma strolled to the side of the room, scooping up a large bowl that had been slid into the room from outside and brought it to the center of the room. She placed it on the dais that sat there under the dark sky and gestured for me to look into it.

“I really don’t know how to do this.”

“I will guide you. Now look.”

With a deep breath, Harley turned her gaze downwards, into the bowl. There was a dark liquid in the bowl, still settling from movement. It was so dark Harley could see the whites of her eyes reflected in it, her brown skin finding highlights in the shimmering fluid.

“Concentrate on who you want to see. Not how she was or how she might be, but how she is, in this very moment.”

Harley concentrated. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes. She held her breath and scratched her neck. All of this, and she saw nothing.

“It’s not working.”

“That is because you do not believe it will work. You do not believe your energy will let you see anything outside of your realm of knowledge. You must expand your mind, your energy. Use everything you have to reach out, to see her, to find her.”

Harley forced herself to take Oma’s words seriously. Sure she’s never done this before, but until now, no witch had ever told Harley that she didn’t have the power to do something magical. That she didn’t believe in her energy. Harley knew how powerful she was. Powerful enough to frighten all of her neighbors and classmates with a single glance. Powerful enough to bring down the electricity for her entire city, and bring it back up again. Harley knew power, knew energy, she just wasn’t sure how to wield it.

So she buckled down. She closed her eyes for a breath, and on the exhale opened them slowly. As she raise her eyelids, she could see flecks of energy that flickered around the room. Aura’s could be tricky to see, but on nights like these, dark and clear, she couldn’t help but see them. Shuri’s blazed bright purple, and Oma’s was and emerald green, but Harley was searching for her own. Blue like the inner flame of a fire. She caught a glimpse of it, sitting right beside the bowl. Concentrate on expanding your energy.

For a moment, Harley wasn’t quite sure what to do. She’d found her energy, but controlling it was another thing entirely. Before she could spiral into any sort of despair, she asked her energy to move. To stretch and seek out Ayana, to find her fuschia energy wherever it might be. Harley watched as her energy pulsed brightly, then began to move, flitting around like a firefly. Then, just as she thought she might be going crazy, an image flickered in the bowl.

It was a girl. A girl who looked like Harley before she shaved the sides of her head and got more piercings than she could count. They had the same hickory skin, the same brown eyes, and the same wide nose. For a moment Harley thought the girl was her, that she had messed up and summoned an image of the past, but then she saw Ayana. The baby girl, her baby girl was cuddled up in her Golden Jag cut, snuffling into the neck of the girl who looked so much like Harley. Then another woman, draped in black walked into the frame of the bowl. Her eyes echoed Harley’s own, and Harley couldn’t keep herself from jumping in surprise.

Her movement was enough to shake the bowl and knock her out of focus, but when she looked up, Harley relief curved her lips into a smile.

“She’s alive.”

A/N: Soooooooo we’re getting a little more information here, but nothing definitive. Yet.

So apparently Okoye is a surname? Am I the only who didn’t know that? I tried to find a “first name/christian name” for Okoye on the Wiki and in the comics, but there was nothing… So, Professor Okoye it is!

N’Jadaka is a bougie vampire lol. I would expect nothing less tho tbh. Also vampire subcultures! That was fun to write! Adize actually means “magic” in the Ghanian language of ewe :)

Hazel still doesn’t really know where the hell she is, and Harley has finally seen Ayana! Now she just has to tell ‘Monger and get that baby back in the right dimension. Should be easy enough, right?

Fun Fact: You can actually bake with blood. In some recipes it takes the place of egg whites/leavening agents, though it takes like three times as long to whip up in comparison to egg whites. Learned about that in this podcast! (Do not listen to this if you are squeamish!!!!!)

As always let me know what y’all think!

The Mystery of the Golden Fang Mood Board

A Map Made in Heaven

Masterlist

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis @queenamaniii @thatrandomfangirl98@dreadedphilosphy @killmongurl @thelovelyliterary @elaindeereads @thedom223@bidibidibombaclaat@thatrandomfangirl98 @panthergoddessbast @nemesispawn@writingmarvellousimagines @someareblindtoitsbeauty @jozigrrl @iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone @janelledarling

#The Mystery of the Golden Fang #bpfic #black panther #black panther fic #erik killmonger fic #erik killmonger x black!OC #erik killmonger #multiple reality AU

51 notes · View notes

omgcpumpkins · 7 years

Photo

This is the full list of prompts for OMGCPUMPKINS, as sent in by a wide array of anons and less-mysterious contributors. A big thanks to everyone who sent in something creepy - we’re sure they’ll be greatly appreciated by prospective content creators!

To participate in the fest, you do not have to use one of these prompts. If you do want to, however, send us a message (no anons for this, please) with which one you’ve chosen, and we’ll strike it through to let everyone know it’s been taken. This even holds if you’re just using a prompt as a starting point - we’d like to avoid too many similar works as the fest goes.

The fest will start posting entries on October 13th (which, yes, is a Friday), but will continue posting up to October 31st (obviously, Halloween). You’ll have until then to make what you want and shoot it through to us. For more details on submission, make sure to check the guidelines. If you still have questions, you can send us an ask (feel free to use anon for this one, though).

[full list of prompts under the cut]

ZIMBITS PROMPTS SCENARIOS

Jack is a werewolf and his transformations are kind of painful/violent, so the rest of the guys help him work through it. Maybe Bitty’s a frog and it's his first time witnessing this? Or something later when Bitty has a crush on/is dating Jack? Either works! Bonus for mentions of other creatures CLAIMED

For Year 1 Halloween Bitty is dressed as Mrs. Lovett, so I'd like to see him have a weird obsession with making people pie (Zimbits, if it fits there anywhere) [see below for more direct alternative]

The Bittles are a family of vampire hunters, infamous in the South. When Bitty gets turned and flees instead of staying and turning himself in, they send a call out to every hunting family in the world. Wanted Dead. Jack Zimmermann of the Zimmermann hunting family runs across a sweet little baker that runs the night shift CLAIMED

Jack and Bitty come out, get married, and live happily ever after... until Bitty finds out that Jack is actually a serial killer. CLAIMED

There are things hockey players are never to do on the ice -- voluntarily shedding blood is one of them. One person cutting themselves on a skate starts a Grudge. If a Line sheds, it's a Rivalry. If an entire team does it, it's a Death Sentence. When Jack Zimmermann dies on the ice during a playoff run and the league protects the player who targeted Jack, Kent Parson leads the Aces in shedding blood during the Cup final. No one expected the ritual to summon Jack's spirit to exact revenge. (Zimbits overall)

Jack or Bitty is actually the vessel of some ancient and horrible multidimensional being that would make mortal men mad with a single gaze. They still fall in love. CLAIMED

Bitty is an angry/vengeful spirit who was murdered in a house Jack moves in to CLAIMED

AUs

Jennifer’s Body AU (Bitty survives some kind of campus tragedy/attack and comes back a very different person. While the team adapts to their newly bloodthirsty captain, Jack tries to figure out what happened to his boyfriend.)

Sweeney Todd AU

OTHER PAIRING PROMPTS SCENARIOS

Person A is lost in the woods in the middle of the night when they come across Person B in the middle of murdering someone CLAIMED

Based on the text post: “flirting with death” fucking WEAK catch me sucking deaths dick in a burger king dumpster at 3am CLAIMED

Person A summons a demon to ask for a favor or a trade. The demon is Person B. It can go either hilariously or horribly. CLAIMED

Tater/Bitty or Tater & Bitty. Tater swears that there is something from Russian folkore stalking him at night. No one believes him. Except for from-the-most-haunted-state-of-Georgia Eric Bittle. Cue shenanigans or horror shenanigans.

Bitty/Parse, Bitty is a hedgewitch and Kent is more of a ritual type of guy. They have to band together when they are both accused of witchcraft by their town. CLAIMED

Person A takes Person B to their mountain lodge where they get snowed in. It wasn't going to be too bad of problem, just wait it out. Until they try to leave and realize that they are trapped on the mountain with a yeti that has destroyed their only method of transportation. CLAIMED

A and B have been BFFs since the day they met. They know everything about each other... except for one thing. What will happen when B finds out A's dark secret?

If you push canon back one year, then the night before Jack would have gone in the draft is the third and final night of the full moon. Newly turned Werewolf!Jack manages to stave of the transformation the first two nights by drugging himself, but goes on a rampage on the third when Kent finds him and takes him to the hospital.

AUs

American Mary AU (with Ransom the bodymod surgeon, and Tater as his affable supplier of clients)

Saw AU (Two people wake up alone in a room together. There's a gun on the table loaded with 1 bullet. The serial killer's voice comes over a speaker and says, "only one of you can leave here alive.")

GEN PROMPTS SCENARIOS

The Haus is cursed to be haunted by a pair of ghosts forever and Mandy & Jenny will do anything to secure their replacements so they can finally be at peace. Anything. CLAIMED

Jenny and Mandy (the Haus ghosts) are actually holding back something much worse (writer's choice of something), but their power is fading, and on Halloween night, their seal breaks completely

One by one, the windows and doors disappear from the Haus, until the gang finds themselves locked in together. Where did the exits go? How will they escape? And was someone in the Haus somehow responsible?

Cryptid!Dex, but with less fun and more half eaten corpses at the bottom of Lake Quad CLAIMED

Jenny and Mandy are actually angry, vengeful, petty, and malevolent ghosts

A newly-created, anonymous YouTube account posts a video. It appears that it was originally meant to become a vlog entry on creating tasty campfire treats, but now contains the blair-witch-esque last moments of the Samwell Men's Hockey team members who went missing months ago.

Based on this post: Naked, Covered in Ram’s Blood, Drinking a Coke, and Feeling Pretty Good (SMH as a sacrificial cult) CLAIMED

Bad Bob Zimmermann didn't come by his talent naturally, and neither did Jack (not that he's aware). Bob made a deal (with a djinn, demon, faerie, whatever) and now they have come to collect their payment from the Zimmermann line. CLAIMED

Bitty has a recurring nightmare about the bullying he has received, except this time some kind of Monster!Bitty shows up and takes out his tormentors. He wakes up and there is some kind of ominous sign that he has in fact become some kind of monster.

The Haus is haunted, but not by Mandy and Jenny. The angry spirit wants SMH out of the house. CLAIMED

AUs

What We Do In The Shadows AU (perhaps with the frogs; vampires hiding in plain sight)

The Finals Girls AU (campy slasher setting with SMH)

Shaun of the Dead AU

#omgcp #check please #zimbits #omgcprarepairs #omgcpwomen #prompts #admin

76 notes · View notes

cwdcshows · 5 years

Text

The Flash - S6 E3 - Dead Man Running

I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark and guess that in spite of what would otherwise have been a perfect title such a story, this episode probably feature the DC character Deadman; and I'm a little disappointed. Are the thugs really debating the finer points of their chain of command and who gets what percentage of the take at the start of the criminal activity; and not say, any point prior to that moment when they're perhaps planning said activity?

Let's all take a moment to remember Mitch Romero; or as those closes to him knew him, Milkman Mitch. He didn't amount to much as criminal middle management, but he inspired loyalty in those who worked for him, and that says a lot. And he sure loved his whole milk - not skim, never skim. "Skim is for pussies" Mitch would say. To Mitch! Anyone else kind of want to see Ralph's mom and Felicity's mom have some sort of buddy/road trip adventure together? Like, I don't necessarily want to see it, per se; certainly not an entire episode, but like, I feel like these two should meet and then be....unleashed onto the world. Reno would never be the same, I think. So what, are they not letting Caitlin out at all? Not even for important work? Seriously, guns charged with dark matter? What, is this stuff suddenly available at every corner drug store now? Because not too long ago it was a little hard to come by. "People are dying out there!" I mean, yeah, statistically that's probably true, but so far you have one incident of this particular person, animal or vegetable killing anyone for dark matter; so how do you know this is going to become a recurring threat? I'm not saying that whatever's responsible is likely to be innocent, but it's not exactly a spree either. And if you're county Dr. Coffee-Guy as a second incident, because you're linking the goo you found; Coffee-Guy wasn't killed, which skews the killing average. And how exactly do you know that you've "never seen anything like" the black goo you just found at the other crime scene. Ostensibly Frost made a beeline over to this guy's lab after learning about the theft of dark matter; meaning you haven't time to take the substance back your lab or Star Labs in order to analyze it. So the best you've been able to do to try and discern what it is, is look at it, smell and maybe lick it. Given what we about Barry and we'll call his...learning curve, I'm going to say, yeah, he probably licked the goo to try and figure out what it is. But just because it didn't taste fudge doesn't mean it's beyond anything you've ever personally encountered before. "Please, call me Ramsey." I'm pretty sure I'm just going to keep calling you Dr. Coffee Guy, it's easier to remember. It's about damn time that some iteration of Harrison Wells is injected back into the series. How has it taken until the third fucking episode; especially when episode two was such fluffy garbage? Also, with all of the different versions of people who look like Harrison Wells running around over the last several years, only one of which are we aware of taking any measures to conceal his identity, that anyone actually bothered to notice "Harrison Wells" - AKA the name and face of the man who confessed to murdering Nora Allen? Come on Allegra, it's not like she's put you on fucking fashion; it's a small paper and you definitely haven't won a Pulitzer, much less earned your stripes as a reporter at this new job of yours. I don't think I've ever heard of anyplace having "undisclosed amounts" of anything. "How many flavors of ice cream do you have?" "Oh, we have an undisclosed amount of flavors!" "Really? Do you Rocky Road?" "I can neither confirm nor deny that." Oh, Milk Man, what have they done to ya?? Can they make-up their mind what's happening with Caitlin/Frost? Last episode they used some Palmer-Bots so Frost's voice and eyes would otherwise look normal, even when she's Frosted-up; yet when she sends ole Mike through the window, her eyes gloss over anyway and then go back to normal immediately afterwards, while her hair stays Frost-ified. This show should never have allowed the main characters to see the newspaper or learned Barry's fate. Aside from the stupidity of the Savitar storyline, just the whole element of Barry knowing his fate ahead of time kind of takes away from it. I mean, obviously he's not going end up dying by the end of Crisis; somehow they're going to avert it, but the sacrifice and death of Barry Allen during Crisis on Infinite Earths was arguably one of the most iconic story developments in comic book history. It was profound; there were few if any true moments in comics like that before that happen, where the status quo was changed for the long term. It's actually kind of bad enough that it's more than a little likely they're going to side-step that fate, but then to have Barry know it's coming beforehand and under any other circumstance where he likely wouldn't make it out alive, it feels like it undermines the sacrifice; because it feels more like he's just giving into fate - a fate he would definitely try and side-step if he thought he could; rather than being natural decision born out of the circumstances and the willingness in the urgency of the moment to give up his own life to save others. Wait, how many of your mom's boyfriends did you think died, Ralph? I mean, fuck, you're supposed to have some sort of bullshit meter or "nose for a mystery" and never thought something was up that your mother had more than one dead past lover? You should have suspected something was up; she was either lying to you about them being dead, or she might have just been a serial killer. Just how fucking invested are you in your mom's romantic interests, Ralph? This is a weird story. Did Dr. Coffee-Guy really need an invitation to get into Star Labs. Six seasons in, nobody else has had much of a problem coming and going whenever they wanted. Is he like, a science vampire? Can he only enter other labs when he's invited? Do you ward him off with slide rules? Does his skin burn when doused with hydrochloric acid? So if DR. CG can control this guy, why or how did it ever end up going on a rampage in the first place? How is this not the first thing he discovered about the guy? This whole thing of Barry leading Mike into the pipeline reminds me that episode of Scooby-Doo, where the Scooby gang used Scooby-Snacks to bribe Scooby to go into the haunted house; before Scooby became rabid and Shaggy had to go Ole Yeller on him and put him down. I'm like, 75% sure that's a thing that really happened and I defy you to prove to me otherwise. "Get me all the dark matter in Star Labs"

Poor one out for the Milk Man. Yeah, I guess Dr. Coffee-Guy is some sort of vampire. Okay, first off, I'm pretty white - my heritage is Irish, Welsh and German, and a who knows what else - basically if I'm in direct sunlight for more than a minute I just burst into flames. But seriously, Grant Gustin is the whitest white boy ever. I'm pretty sure those dance moves can only best be described as extra-virgin vanilla. Man, they're trying really hard to be Infinity War without being Infinity War. Now we have Nu-Wells using a gauntlet to search of an "Eternium" artifact. What is that, an isotope of Unobtanium? It's like they wrote "infinity stone" into the script and then just used search and replace all using synonyms like some sort of mad-lib.

0 notes

jennycalendar · 7 years

Text

Imperfections (19/?)

i read somewhere that it’s bad form to praise your own writing. that said, i really really like this chapter

it’s also on ao3!!!

Buffy and Willow were leaving the Bronze just as Faith showed up, followed by an excitable-looking Snyder. Upon seeing Faith, Buffy smiled with an exhausted kind of relief that made Faith suddenly feel like everything would be completely fine. “Hey,” she said. “You find Giles and Ms. Calendar?”

“What, they’re not here?” Faith groaned. “Super. Now I gotta go looking all over town for them.”

“They’re okay, though?” inquired Willow anxiously.

“Well, Jen’s wearing a ton of makeup and calling herself Janna, but other than that they seem fine,” said Faith dryly. It hit her that she sounded like Jen, which made her bizarrely amused; Jen was acting all angry and resentful and Faith was the one who had to fix all the problems being caused.

“We think there’s something going down that’s making the adults act like teenagers,” said Buffy, “because the Bronze is full of some totally wasted grown-ups.”

“My doctor tried to crowd-surf shirtless,” Willow added, sounding like she wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or concerned by this. “I think some guys are trying to take him to the hospital. Ironic, in a sad way.”

“Cool,” said Faith exhaustedly. “Great. I’m gonna see if I can find Jen before she and Ripper get themselves killed.”

“I’m sorry,” said Buffy, a semi-panicked note in her voice, “did you say Ripper?”

“No, it’s cool, B, it’s not like Jen’s hanging with a serial killer or anything,” said Faith hastily. “That’s just what Giles is calling himself now.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” said Buffy, and dashed to the car. Willow followed with a halfway apologetic look.

Faith felt more than a little left out. Yeah, she got that there wasn’t all that much time for giving the newbie an explanation, but Jen had always made time. They were on patrol once and Jen almost got jumped, and in the middle of staking a vampire she’d been shouting to Faith about how the particular cemetery they were in might have some kind of vampire-attracting artifact. And now Buffy and Willow were dashing off to solve the problem and save the day, and knowing their luck, they’d find Jen before Faith did.

Screw that. If she was going to have to fly solo, she’d do it—for Jen, if not for anyone else. Faith tried to think of a place in town Jen might go, and then it came to her. Teenage Jen might be some kind of rebellious wild card, but there was one thing that any Jen wasn’t going to be able to resist.

“Candy.” Ripper’s voice was doubtful. “You want us to drive halfway across the bloody town for candy. What kind of fun is that?”

“I’m hungry,” said Janna, “and you said yourself that the Bronze was dead. I thought you’d be happy about having something to do.”

There was a motorbike up ahead with the keys still in; its owner was in an arm wrestling match with another guy. “Ooh, here we go,” said Ripper with delight, and hurried up to the motorbike, straddling it before tossing a glance over his shoulder at Janna. “We can use this to get to the factory,” he said. “Hop on.”

“You don’t have a helmet,” said Janna uneasily, hanging back.

“What, too rebellious for you?” said Ripper mockingly.

Janna set her jaw and stared him down. “I don’t steal,” she said.

“This is my kind of fun,” said Ripper smugly. “Thought you said you could handle it.”

Janna pressed her lips together. She liked feeling this light and free, unencumbered by all the expectations that seemed to tie her down, and she’d developed the kind of persona that would let her feel that way. But there were certain lines that she still couldn’t cross, no matter who she was pretending to be. “I don’t steal,” she said again. “Not when it’s something someone wants.”

Ripper studied her face. It seemed like he was waiting for Janna to change her mind, which wasn’t going to happen. Janna sped up, feeling a little hurt. She had a feeling he was judging her, and she didn’t like it.

She heard him fall into step with her, and didn’t look over at him, keeping her eyes trained straight ahead.

“What is it with you?” Ripper said, his voice quiet and thoughtful without even a hint of that confident sneer she’d gotten used to. “Every time I think I know you—”

Janna bit her lip until she tasted blood.

“—you switch on me. Thought you’d like stealing a motorbike.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Janna shortly, “so why don’t we just leave it alone?”

“Janna—”

“Leave it alone.”

Ripper fell silent. Janna kept on looking ahead of them, at the streetlights and the night sky. “Where I lived,” she said, very quietly, more for herself than anyone else, “the city lights didn’t blot out the stars. I had a telescope.” It felt comforting to say that out loud. Whoever Janna was, angry or trapped or whatever, she’d always liked the stars.

To her surprise, she felt Ripper’s hand slip into hers. He was smiling slightly at his feet in a way that seemed more honest and real than the triumphant grin he’d had on that motorbike. She hadn’t realized he’d been walking close enough to hear her. “I made star charts,” he said. “Papered my bedroom. I was twelve.”

“I was fourteen.” Janna felt a tentative, uneasy warmth between them at their mutual admissions. It frightened her a little, but in a good way. “I tried to make my own constellations.” Ripper chuckled, and she glared at him. “What?”

“Twelve-year-old me would have been scandalized, ‘s all,” Ripper said. “He was very by the book.”

“And you’re not?” Janna asked, curious despite herself. She remembered bits and pieces of what Eyghon had left in her, but not enough to make out Ripper’s story.

Ripper looked at her for a moment, as though trying to assess how much to tell her. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I don’t want to be.”

Janna stood on tiptoe and kissed him, on impulse. It was a lot softer and sweeter than she’d expected their first kiss like this to be. Ripper’s response wasn’t hard and passionate; he stumbled, startled, and nearly tripped over the sidewalk, which made Janna smile against his mouth. But then he was kissing her back, hands resting carefully on her shoulders, leaning down to meet her mouth with his.

He was the one to pull away, smiling a little awkwardly in a way that made Janna’s heart ache. “What was that for?” he asked.

“Books are dumb.” Janna laced her fingers with Ripper’s, feeling strange and happy as she grinned at her combat boots. “They’re isolating. Reading is a solitary activity, and knowledge should be shared with like-minded people.”

Ripper got it. He smiled too.

They walked slowly, but Sunnydale was a small town, so they reached the factory in a reasonable amount of time. The thing was, though, Janna didn’t feel that same kind of drive to prove herself, and candy didn’t seem all that appealing to her at the moment.

“I don’t want to steal,” she said quietly, “but I want to go see the stars with you.”

Ripper looked at her, then said, “Compromises might have to be made for the sake of reaching the stars in time.”

Janna smiled slightly. “We’ll call it borrowing,” she said.

“Just so,” said Ripper, and he sounded a little like someone Janna half-remembered and all the way loved. Everything had turned soft and gooey between them all of a sudden, and neither of them seemed to want to be the one to remind the other we aren’t like this, we’re rebels, we’re angry and we mean business.

“I should apologize to Faith,” said Janna, suddenly remembering. “I was way harsh with her. I just—”

Ripper nodded slightly. “She hurt you,” he said thoughtfully. “You bite.”

“Sometimes.” Janna felt chastened. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You can apologize tomorrow,” said Ripper, and kissed her again. Janna let her eyes flutter shut. She thought she could still taste chocolate on his mouth, but maybe it was just her imagination.

As it happened, Faith actually reached the candy factory at the same time as Buffy, which turned out to be a good thing, because Buffy saw them first, and her loud “Oh my god!” served as a generally helpful warning for what Faith saw next.

“Jeez, can you two keep it in your pants under any scenario?” she quipped.

“Not. Funny.” Buffy directed a horrified look at her. “I want to bleach my entire brain.”

“Faith,” said Janna, ignoring Buffy. There was a guilty look on her face. “Listen, I—”

Faith recognized that look from the night before. “We’re cool, okay?” she said, and meant it. “Five by five. I hurt you too, remember?”

Janna shook her head. “I shouldn’t have just run off in the morning,” she said firmly. “I know how that feels.”

“What do you mean?” Faith asked hesitantly, feeling almost guilty for asking. She wasn’t sure if this was stuff Jen—not Janna, but Jen—wanted her to know. Next to her, Buffy very casually stepped off to the side, giving them both some privacy. To Faith’s surprise, Ripper did the same.

“I—” Janna took a breath before speaking. “I woke up alone a lot,” she said. “Empty house and all that. Sometimes I got worried that my uncle had gotten killed by something, ‘cause he never left a note, and I always got all panicky until he came back. He was really mad at me for it the first time.” She fiddled with the sleeves of her leather jacket. “Said that worry shouldn’t be the driving force in my life. I’m supposed to be all vengeful.”

“Oh.” Faith looked at Jen. It took her a moment to remember that it wasn’t Jen at all, and another moment to realize that in a way, it kind of was. “I get that,” she said quietly. “The whole—anger thing. Seems like that’s all anyone wants me to be.”

Janna’s eyes looked sad. “I know it’s not me, but I want to be kind,” she said quietly. “I want to know how to be kind.”

The words struck a chord with Faith, on more levels than she’d anticipated. Yeah, sure, she related to what Janna was saying, but what really struck her was that Jen did learn to be kind. She did become someone good and smart and happy, with more than one person who loved her. And if Jen had been so much like Faith as a teenager, then maybe there was some hope for Faith too.

“You’re good,” she said. “You’re good enough. You have plenty of time to figure shit like that out, and if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone to help you. Like—” Faith had to cut herself off, pressing Jen’s car keys into Janna’s hand to distract from her unfinished sentence. Like I did.

“Hey,” called Buffy. “You guys helping us with the candy?”

Janna hesitated, glancing over at Ripper, who said, “We—um—had plans.”

Buffy blinked, then groaned. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said. “Do whatever you want, okay? Just don’t eat any of the candy.” She stepped forward, taking Faith’s hand in hers (Faith felt butterflies. Stupid butterflies) and beginning to head toward the factory.

Janna took Ripper’s hand, smiling quietly up at him, and the two of them headed towards Jen’s car, which Faith had driven here. Faith smiled slightly and waved goodbye over her shoulder, and she felt her smile widen when she saw Janna turn to wave back.

#fic #imperfections #calendiles #committed to job meets commitment issues #jenny and faith #this is. very calendilesy

7 notes · View notes

ecotone99 · 4 years

Text

[MS] Becoming the Monster

How do you kill a monster without becoming one, you ask? Well, it’s entirely impossible. Trust me, I should know. How? Well, here we go. I guess I have a story to tell, then.

It was a dark and stormy night. Sorry if this sounds a little cheesy, but it’s the truth. Anyway, I was walking home from work after a long day of school. By the way, I work at the local library. Not really important right now, but I thought I would add it. So anyway, I was exhausted from the day, and literally had no desire or motivation to do anything but sleep, so I was walking slow and dragging my feet, enjoying the rain. I wasn’t far from my house when I heard a noise in the bushes. Now, I lived in Florida at the time, so animals at night were not an uncommon thing, so naturally I ignored the noise. Yup, you guessed it. Big mistake. And not because I instantly got attacked by a roaming hostile alligator, but because what would happen later would haunt me forever.

I noticed nothing else until I arrived home about ten minutes later. My parents were watching TV like normal, and I got ready for bed and went to my room. It was a total pigsty. Everything was destroyed. My bed was in shambles, the sheets ripped into shreds, the bed frame bent and broken. My dresser and nightstand were cracked and the paint was scratched off, and the closet door was hanging from half of one hinge. I immediately rushed downstairs to tell my dad, and he stubbornly trudged up the stairs, convinced I was having a dream. But when he got to the top of the stairs and looked into my room, he stopped and sighed.

“Come on now, don’t play these games with me.”

When I looked into the room, it was completely clean and tidy, no mess to be seen. I know what you’re wondering. How in the history of the world? Yeah, me too. Well here’s what happened. The monster that I ended up killing did it, obviously. But it’s not really a monster. See, we humans believe it to be, but in reality it’s just like a weird sorcerer-witch mix thing that wants things it can’t necessarily have. Like maybe, something I already own. Possibly, I don’t know, my blood?

But none of that matters right now, what matters is how I got around to figuring out what was happening.

The next morning I decided to investigate. I called up a close friend, Kaede, to help me. When she got to my house, I explained everything. How I heard the noise in the bushes when I was walking home, and the weird thing with my dad and my room.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You want me to like, help you hunt ghosts or something? You’re crazy if you think I’ll help you,” Kaede said, totally reluctant.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “It’s not a ghost, just something else, you know?”

“Uh, no, I actually don’t know, sorry.” She turned away to leave, but I wasn’t amused. I kept pushing her to help me and eventually she gave in with the bribe that I would help with her math homework. She was really bad at math so it was a good bribe.

Anyway, we started out by investigating my room. I looked around, examining practically everywhere. Other than a torn up piece of paper with--it seemed like--nothing written on it, I couldn’t find anything. I was getting pretty disappointed when Kaede snatched the piece of paper from my hand and unwrinkled it.

“I saw something, like an ink smudge,” she said. “Ooh, look! It says: ‘Rustle, rustle, whip and whistle, down at the shrub made of crinkled thistle.’”

“Hey, that might be the place where I heard the thing in the bush last night! This is a little creepy, but I do love a good scavenger hunt,” I replied. The thought of following notes placed by a potential serial killer sent a chill down my spine, but I was determined to figure out what was happening. Besides, this story is about me killing the guy, and nobody got anywhere heroic just by being careful.

“Are we really gonna run around getting progressively closer to death?” Kaede said. “I mean, what if this entire thing is a trap because a psychopath knew that you would like the chase?”

Not at all surprised by her cautiousness, I stood stony-eyed, determined to finish this thing through. “I’m gonna go, whether you want to come or not. So choose now because it’s likely you won’t get to change your mind,” I warned.

She jumped up, looking angrier than before. “Well I’m not gonna let you go alone, that’s for sure. We all know how well that’s going to end up.”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a backpack and stuffed a few water bottles and blankets. “Just in case,” I said, shrugging.

After Kaede was finished with her sarcastic comments, we headed out to the street. About a quarter-mile from my house I found the spot where I heard the rustling the night before. I ran into the underbrush and searched around for another slip of paper that could hold a clue to the next destination. And yes, now that I look back at it, I very well could have been murdered. Easily. Luckily, the tables turned and I killed the monster. Ahem, back to the story here. So after about ten minutes of frantic searching, I found a leaf with writing on it. How someone was able to write on leaf, I have no idea, but the next clue read: ‘This one is difficult, but don’t give up hope, a large building, the one where you mope.’

“Oh, this is easy. Your work. Whenever I come to the library you’re always bored out of your mind and moping around,” Kaede added. Of course. How was this one difficult?

So we ran to the local library, walked through the large sliding doors, and froze. We had absolutely no idea of where to go next. The library was so large that the chance of us finding the next clue today was practically impossible.

“Oh, so this is what it meant by difficult, huh?” I shuddered. “Well, let’s get to work.”

I decided to head to the mystery and crime section, thinking that this scavenger hunt would have something to do with a mystery of some sort. But no luck. Kaede ventured over to the fantasy and drama, again with no luck. After a few more hours of looking to no avail, I wandered over to the sorcery and magic section. Bored and uninterested, I picked up a book on the effects of sorcery on the caster. The pages fell to the sides revealing a note.

“Aww, yeah! Kaede, I got it! Here look, it says: ‘Sink deeper into sadness, look no further than your own madness.’” This one was a little harder, but we thought a little. After thinking for five minutes, our brains hurt so we stopped. And realized we knew all along. The school! Obviously everyone is sad at school, and just can’t stand being there, therefore they go mad! We were absolute idiots. Obviously we had to spend more time there.

Unfortunately, it was Saturday and the school was closed. But we had to get in, one way or the other, so we devised a plan. I would grab the crowbar, and pry open the window in the back of the school. Kaede would then slip through the window and open the door for me from the inside. She was naturally slimmer than me so this plan was bound to work. I ran home and grabbed the crowbar out of the garage. We ran to the school and began to look for a window that was hidden enough to begin our plan. But none of the windows were concealed enough for our liking. Determined to carry out our brilliant idea, we chose a random window and began.

“Hey, hey! What do you kids think you’re doing?” A voice called from behind us. Kaede looked at me in horror as we turned to face the voice. It was a police officer. And we were busted.

“Uhh, we forgot our homework, officer,” I tried to explain, totally making us look even more like total idiots.

“Uhuh, now come with me. You’re arrested for defacing and trying to break into a government owned property.”

After a nice ride in a police car, we reached the police station. I prayed we weren’t gonna go to jail. I wasn’t ready to be a criminal. The officer called our parents, but seeing that both of us were far too poor to pay bail, we had to stay one night at the holding cell in the police station.

I flopped down on the bench, next to a man with his face covered by a sweatshirt hood. Kaede stood at the bars, staring out into the almost empty police station. I slouched, bored already.

“Uh, so fella, what got you here?” I asked the man sitting next to me. I already felt like a full-time criminal, getting to know my fellow prison-mates.

He looked up slowly, a smirk shadowing his lips. “So you followed my notes, I see. You were wrong about one thing, though I know where you were coming from with thinking it was the school. The last clue led here, but you ended up here anyway, so it all turned out fine,” he said.

Ahh, yes. Madness and sadness would come from being in jail, but it still made more sense at the school. So this was the guy. The one that rummaged through my room and somehow put it back together in a matter of about 30 seconds. The one that led us on a scavenger hunt throughout the day and brought us to being arrested. The one I was going to kill.

“I’m going to tell you what I am now, don’t be too alarmed. Okay, i’m a sorcerer. That’s why I was able to get you so interested in this entire scheme from the beginning. You see, I have a craving. A craving for human blood. It all started after I killed a vampire, and I became that monster as well. I targeted you because, well, you looked weak. But now I may be mistaken. Anyway, prepare to die.”

Now at this point I was totally shaken and absolutely dazed with fear and anger, so I wasn’t prepared for death. I only snapped out of my daze when he jumped at me, hands outstretched and mouth open and snarling. Kaede turned around at my scream and jumped forward, trying to claw the man away from me. She grabbed his collar and choked him back before he turned on her. Still shaken, I jumped up and looked frantically around for a weapon. The bench was a little loose in the screws, so I tugged at it, to no avail. Determined, I slammed my body down on it, breaking it from the wall with the force of my weight. Picking it up, I staggered over to where the man and Kaede were wrestling, and slammed the bench on the top of the man’s head. I heard a crack, a groan, then silence.

I stepped back, horrified. Kaede looked stunned, and stepped towards me in a shock. I suddenly felt woozy and dizzy, and I swayed on my feet. I had to sit down on the dirty floor, placing my head on my knees. I closed my eyes, prompting the nauseous feeling to recede.

After what felt like hours I stood up, an unnatural craving for something plaguing my senses. I frantically looked around, and my crazed eyes fell upon Kaede, standing and shaking in the corner. I felt powerful and strong enough to easily take her down. She stared at me in terror, hugging herself, trying to melt into the wall behind her. My eyes widened and I smiled. Not a joyous smile, but an evil smirk. She whimpered, closing her eyes.

“You’re, you’re not yourself. Please, stay away from me,” she sobbed. “You killed that man, and now you’re acting like him, like you want to, I don’t know, eat me or something.”

Yes. The sorcerer was dead, and he had mentioned himself having a craving for human blood after he killed a vampire. The only reasonable explanation for my altered actions was that the same had happened to me. The craving for Kaede’s blood: the vampire. The unnatural feeling of power and control: the sorcerer. So it had happened. I had become the monster that I had killed.

So you see. It’s entirely impossible to kill a monster without becoming one. From personal experience, I know the horrors that become you once you kill something. The best way to avoid the worst is to stay away from tempting adventures and stay out of trouble. But sometimes the terrors are inevitable.

And I will never forget the things that I did that night; the things I did to Kaede. Let’s just say there was nothing for the police to find the next morning.

submitted by /u/297rasberries [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Noqcnc

#Blogger #Story

0 notes