#CAN YOU TELL RABBIT ABOUT MY SHADOW BAN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myckicade · 3 years

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Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

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#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c.#coco x reader #coco x you #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #johnny coco cruz #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic

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adobe-outdesign · 3 years

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For pokemon reviews, any thoughts on the diggersby line? I think bunnelby is cute but I'm not sure how I feel about the evolution

Honestly, I like Bunnelby a lot. Unlike a lot of the other rabbit Pokemon out there, this one feels like it has a good amount of rabbity attributes mixed in there with the buck teeth, muzzle, whiskers, and haunches. Something about the way its face is drawn makes also makes it the cutest out of all the rabbit 'mons as well for me. The colors are nice and simple and reflect the digging theme.

My one issue with it is that it uses its ears to dig, but they don't really seem like they should work for that; even assuming they're prehensile, they're shorter than the body is, meaning that they'd have to get down on all fours to dig or something. Lop ears might’ve helped with this.

Side note, I would like to ban Pokemon Adventures from ever drawing this Pokemon again.

I also like Diggersby a lot, even if I understand why it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. With all the rabbit Pokemon out there that are trying to be furrybait or badass, it's nice to have a rabbit that looks like it would flop over on your couch after a battle and crack open a beer. Plus the “old man with 5-o’clock shadow” look works well with the theme without being too obtrusive.

In terms of design things I like, I really like the ears here; these look a lot more plausible as digging tools than Bunnelby's, and have a nice excavator look to them. The brown ears with brown spots evoke the idea of them being covered in dirt even when clean. And while I have no idea why they gave a rabbit slit pupils like a goat, they’re a lot more interesting than generic anime eyes would be.

In terms of things I don’t like: the body is a bit strange. Bunnelby has very solid anatomy: you can tell how it moves by looking it at and it has depth. Diggersby is weirdly flat in comparison, especially on the lower body; like look at the legs, which have no separation or haunches, or the arms. It’s a minor thing, but it always throws me a bit, mostly because the upper body doesn’t have this issue.

Also, I don’t know why those spikes on the back of the ears are needed, but I would’ve dropped those. The inside of the ears should also be bigger, running underneath of the length of the ears (Bunnelby’s aren’t quite right either but they’re closer).

And finally and more importantly, the colors are sort of random when it comes to placement. The addition of yellow is a good choice that adds to Bunnelby’s palette and isn’t as neutral as the browns and greys, but it’s only on the belly fur for some reason. Typically, if you’re using one color in a design you want to use it to draw attention to something--think like Pikachu’s red cheeks. But here, the belly fur is not something that needs focused on. If anything, there should’ve been yellow bands added to the ears right after the brown tips, as they reference excavators and those are usually yellow. Likewise, the white front paws aren’t terrible, but are kind of random when they could’ve just stayed grey.

Overall though, a good line that I would share a beer with.

#bunnelby #diggersby #pokemon #pokemon reviews #Ask

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skyriderwednesday · 3 years

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False Omens

There was not a banshee, or anything pretending to be a banshee in the attic. The scariest thing about the house's attic is that it had been designated as her bedroom. Or so she thought. -- When Susan's youngest charge claims that there is a banshee in the attic, she is naturally skeptical. After all, the scariest thing meant to be in the attic in this house is her. However, it soon transpires that some spooks are stubborner than others.

(G Rated, 1366 words, Governess Susan)

Also on AO3

Night had fallen. The day’s duties were done. The children were bathed, fed, read to, and put in bed. In front of the bathroom sink, Susan had willed her hair to be braided, and was about to finish brushing her teeth when there was a tap on the door. “Miss Susan?” a small voice said. “Yes?” Susan replied, looking over her shoulder in the mirror. The door opened a crack, and Emily, the youngest of her charges, peeked through it. “There's a banshee in the attic.” Susan set down her toothbrush. “No there isn't,” she said calmly. “Banshees are extinct.” “Do they know?” the child asked, allowing a little more of her face to be seen. Susan turned around and opened the door fully. “I think it would be quite difficult to unknowingly be a member of an extinct species.” “But I heard it screaming…” Emily insisted. Susan studied the mousey little girl, standing in front of her in a pink dressing gown clutching a floppy toy rabbit, and chose her response carefully. “Are you sure that wasn't your brother?” “No!” She shook her head vigorously, knocking a carefully set rag curl loose. “It wasn't Toby!” Susan crouched down, removing one of her own hairpins to put the curl back. “I see, are you sure it wasn't Graham?” She gave her the kind of disparaging look that only a six year old can manage. “Graham sleeps downstairs. It came from the attic.” Mentally, Susan conceded. The baby did sleep downstairs, and it was fairly difficult to mistake down for up. “Emily, do you want me to check the attic?” She nodded, nuzzling her rabbit. “All right, I'll check,” Susan said, standing up. “But even false banshees don't like to be seen by more than one person at once, so you have to go into your bedroom with Mr Rabbit and pretend to be asleep.” Emily thought about this. “I'll come and tell you when it's gone.” She silently conversed with Mr Rabbit, who deemed hiding in the bedroom acceptable. “Very well, go on.” Emily and Mr Rabbit ran off into her bedroom. Susan waited a few moments until she heard the door crack open again. There was not a banshee, or anything pretending to be a banshee in the attic. The scariest thing about the house's attic is that it had been designated as her bedroom. Or so she thought.

Upon setting first foot on the stairs, Susan heard wailing from far away. It's the baby, she thought. But no, it did appear to come from above her. Damn the force of children's belief, they could manifest anything given half the chance and a quarter of an hour too long to think about it. Once she reached the concerning creak three-quarters up the staircase, the wailing grew louder. She would be having words with the cook first thing in the morning. They had already banned ghost stories twice. And now there's a bloody false banshee in my bedroom… Susan flung open the door. She scanned the room. A long shadow formed in the far corner. “Excuse me,” she said, “this is my bedroom.” There was a faint moan. “Don’t start that. I don’t scare easily and you don’t want to annoy me.” The shadow darkened and lengthened. It extruded from the water-stained wallpaper into a gaunt spectre with an ill-defined pale grey face and grey rags clinging to its misty body. A textbook ghoul. Susan looked at it sideways. “To my understanding, the last practicing banshee in the city conducts his trade via note,” she said. The ghoul groaned. “You’re a ghoul,” Susan said, “you make stairs creak and rattle the boiler.” The spectre reared back into the corner and let out a high shriek. Susan’s ears shut down defensively. Thank the gods that people unaware of ghouls generally could not hear them, or the adults of the house may have thought she was being murdered. It would be mortifying for them to think she would scream like that. “Stop pretending to be a banshee,” she said sternly. It stared at her. “Go away.” Nothing. “I’ll use the poker,” she said. Still no response. “If I have to involve my grandfather in this, I'm going to be very upset. My grandfather is a very busy man and calling upon him to resolve a dispute like this will make him late to several important appointments.” Continued nothing. Susan sighed deeply and shut her eyes in resignation. “Very well.”

There were many methods to catch Death's attention, some less humane than others. The one Susan preferred was one of the more polite. It involved covering mirrors and stopping clocks and opening windows. The mirror in this room was already in the wardrobe, which made things easier. Willing her heels to click on the age-worn floorboards, she walked over and stopped the clock on the mantelpiece. Then she opened the window. Finally she placed two age-blackened pennies neatly on the table, and turned her back on the window, the ghoul staring all the while. A chill entered the room and time slowed down. She didn't move, staring forward until she could no longer feel wind on her back and the light returned to normal. GRANDDAUGHTER, Death said. WHAT IS IT THAT REQUIRES MY ATTENTION? “Hello Grandfather,” she said. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your work.” Behind her she knew Death was tilting his head, slightly confused by her formality. IT WAS NO BOTHER, he said. I OFTEN HAVE BUSINESS IN THE CITY. IT WAS JUST A MATTER OF CROSSING THE RIVER. “Still,” Susan said. “I hate to disrupt your schedule.” Death was squinting. I ASSUME THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL CALL. “Unfortunately, no.” AH. THEN HOW MAY I BE OF ASSISTANCE TO YOU? “Are any members of this household due to die in the near future?” I DO NOT BELIEVE SO. WHY EXACTLY DO YOU ASK? “I believe this 'banshee' to be misinformed.” Death turned to look at the creature. He studied it for a moment. THAT IS A GHOUL. he said. Susan turned around to face him. “I know,” she said. “I informed it of that, it refused to listen to me.” YOU ASSUME IT WILL LISTEN TO ME? Susan turned out her hands. “I’m only human, Grandfather. Your words may hold more weight than mine.” Death hummed, rattling the mirror inside the wardrobe. Susan bit her tongue to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. If he broke it, she would have to pay for it. Death turned to the ghoul. YOU ARE NOT A BANSHEE, he said. YOU ARE A GHOUL. It groaned at him. Death straightened, his expression sharpening. CEASE THIS NONSENSE. The ghoul more half-heartedly wailed. BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE. With one final pitiful moan, the ghoul’s form reduced back into shadow and dissipated in the light of the room. Susan allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Grandfather.” YOU ARE WELCOME, Death said. He spread his arms wide. I REQUEST A HUG. All right, she supposed he had earned it. Susan smiled. “Okay, one hug.” She walked into range, and Death’s bony arms wrapped around her. She managed to find his torso amongst the tide of black robes and closed the distance between them, going for the least awkward embrace between a young woman and a seven-foot-tall skeleton she could manage. Death’s head lowered and Susan tried not to wince as he bumped his jaw against her forehead. Kisses were not supposed to be performed by people without flesh, let alone lips. Still, the sentiment was sweet, and she let him let go first. Death smiled. GOOD NIGHT, SUSAN. I LOVE YOU. “I love you too, Grandfather,” she replied. “Good night.” Death turned to leave the way he had come. Time slowed and a cold wind blew. Susan shut her eyes. On the mantelpiece, the clock resumed ticking. Susan closed the window, and opened the wardrobe to check on the mirror. With a frown, she noted that her hair had tied itself up again. Oh well. As she descended the stairs, Susan smiled at the lack of a concerning creak a quarter of the way down.

#discworld #discworld fic #susan sto helit #discworld death #susan: there isn't a banshee in my bedroom #susan seconds later: ffs there's a ghoul pretending to be a banshee in my bedroom #(''wait how is susan's youngest charge six when there's a baby in the house???'' governesses don't do babies my dude. that's nurses)

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davinciandwilde · 3 years

Text

El-ahrairah and the Black Rabbit of Inle: A Poem

Word traveled around, as these things oft do, and King Darzin found he had been made a fool

“I declare war on El-ahrairah and all he all he loves and his people. Whatever is left will be mine to rule

However they are too clever for me to trick them out of their homes, and so I will wait outside

They will come to eat but I will starve them, he cried

They will come for sunlight and I will chase them back into darkness

They will try but I will rip them of their fur and feast off the carcass!”

El-ahrairah tried every trick in his body, pushed his cunning and wit and charm

But no matter what he tried, or plan devised, it only raised that forsaken brass alarm

There was no solution to be found for King Darzin and finally, he realized

There was only one other now with the power to bring his enemies demise

Now, The Black Rabbit of Inle is fur and everlasting darkness

When the snare is set, they know where the peg is driven, the grain of the wood, and the hardness

When the weasel dances, the Rabbit watches, induces foolishness and madness and sickness too

Some say they hate rabbits, but they serve Lord Frith and no more than their appointed task do they pursue

To bring about what must be and only by his will, they go by Frith’s promise

Though starless and cold, unyielding and grievous, a rabbit’s life, one way or another, is their providence

And they will protect and avenge any rabbit who may chance to be destroyed without the consent of himself

Though their name invokes fear, they are not of the Thousand, and they may be the last one who can help

All through the night, El-ahrairah thought and thought, and when morning came, to Rabscuttle he confessed

“No rabbit has tried, and my mind may be addled by hunger and fear, but it may have a chance of success

I will seek out the Black Rabbit and offer my own life in return for the safety of my people

If they won’t take it, I will find something else, whichever it may be, no matter how evil

You must bring it back, Rabscuttle, with or without me, to the save this warren.”

And so, they devised a plan; Later than even the last of twilight, the rabbits charged out roaring

The soldiers distracted, El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle flew into the grave-dark ditch and ran

They limped through a bad dream to that terrible place they bound for, where life is all but banned

Where they travel, the sun and moon mean nothing, and winter and summer less

The scrambled over splinters of slate among gray rocks bigger than sheep, upward over a crest

No sound but the trickling of water and sometimes a cry of some great evil bird

The mist got so thick that they couldn’t see and yet had no option but to endure

Above them, the cliffs hung like a dark roof, below a gaping grave that must be what they seek

Waiting still as lichen and cold as stone was the Black Rabbit of Inle, and El-ahrairah for the first time, felt meek

Carved from the mountain with their giant claws, the Black Rabbit’s burrow reflects its monarch

They speak with a voice of water that falls in echoing places in the dark

Their eyes were red with a light that had no light he had ever known

Like shadow, like mist, like stone, they smelled as clean as last year’s bones

“El-ahrairah why have you come? You are a stranger here.” They spoke, soft but regal

“My Sovereign,” he whispered, “I have come to give you my life. My life for my people.”

“Bargains, bargains,” The Black Rabbit drawled, “There is no day or night that I do not listen

To some honest Captain of Owsla for his chief rabbit or a doe offers her life for her kittens

Sometimes it is taken, sometimes it is not. But there is no bargain, for what is is what must be.”

El-ahrairah refused to leave, for if he could trick them into it, he knew the Black Rabbit would remain true

“You are my guest,” The Black Rabbit insisted, “if you refuse all else, at least let me entertain you.

My home is free and I will make you as comfortable as I can. Come let us play Bob Stones.”

“If I win, perhaps you will be as good as to accept my life in return for my people’s safety and home.”

The Black Rabbit paused but nodded. “I will. But If I win, I will have your tail and whiskers.”

So they sat in the cold and silence, and El-ahrairah tried not to flinch as the shadows hesitated and flickered

Under the eyes of the Owsla, even with Rabscuttle trying to ground him, his wits failed, then his spirit

But the Black Rabbit played without sound or change, like falling snow burying the sharp thicket

“You may pay your stakes to the Owsla and they will lead you to a burrow to rest, but remember this

If you are here tomorrow, I will see you, but you are free to leave whenever you wish”

In a hollow stone burrow with an opening to the mountain outside, Rabscuttle urged him to leave,

But El-ahrairah was convinced he could get the promise that he desired, that his people need

Rabscuttle returned and from clematis and ragwort fashioned whiskers and a tail

El-ahrairah returned and sat across from the Black Rabbit, weak in body but resolved to not fail

The Black rabbit sighed through their broad nose, though he could not tell if they were disappointed or scowling

“You must understand. I have no wish to make you suffer. I am not one of the Thousand”

“You may stay or leave as you please” they spoke, shaking their great coat, “But perhaps you might care to share a story.”

“If I tell as good a story as yours, perhaps you will accept my life and grant my people their safety and territory”

The Black Rabbit huffed with a bittersweet smile, “I will, but if not, you will forfeit your ears.”

They told a tale of fear and darkness that froze them where they crouched on the rock

And not even the warmth of Rabscuttle could stop the icy clouds in which his senses were locked

His wits turned, this body tharn, and the blood fled from his cheeks

When at least the Black Rabbit finished his dark and true tale, El-ahrairah was not able to speak

Dashed about like a mouse, twisted like a snare, the cords, the muscles of his neck taut

He awoke to see Rabscuttle weeping over him, shoulders shaking and far past distraught

“What good is this suffering? For the sake of Frith and Green Grass, let me take you home!”

“Nonsense,” he whispered just above his breath, “Two big dock leaves. They will do very well for ears of my own”

“They will wither” implored Rabscuttle, “As I am withered now, like a worm in the nut”

“For what I have to do, I cannot find the way, but I only need them to last long enough”

He kissed Rabscuttle’s tears away before he left through the maw of the cave

El-ahrairah racked his brain for a trick, any way to secure a weapon or the Black Rabbit’s aid

The Black Rabbit of Inle would not accept his life, and there is no wager he can win

Then why inflict these sufferings if they truly feel no ill will? What do they intend?

Why break him? Why not just send him away? Why not make a wager to force him away?

It hit him quite suddenly, for it was as obvious as can be: that was how. That was the way

They would not help him, perhaps could not, would break him if they must

But if he were to find a weapon, could they stop him? The thought was so simple, so blunt

His own consent. Nothing had happened, nothing taken, nothing bartered, without his own consent.

Except with his own consent, they could not hurt him or sent him away. But could they prevent it?

With two weak dock ears dragging on the floor, he turned towards the narrow runs of the warren

The Owsla watched him crawl but he was past being afraid and finally one did gently caution

“Turn back, El-ahrairah; you have no business in this pit. You are alive and have suffered much already.”

“Not as much as my own people,” He proclaimed. His head felt light but his thoughts were heavy

“Oh, El-ahrairah,” The Owlsa breathed “There is enough suffering here for a thousand warrens

In these holes lie all plagues and diseases –fever, mange, sickness of the bowels, twisting of the organs

Look, They pointed, nearest to you is the White Blindness. Not even the Thousand will touch that body

This is our task, to see all ready for the use of Inle-Rah. For what is is what must be.”

El-ahrairah gave himself no time to think but plunged into the pit faster than a raindrop to the ground

The shadows flickered and gibbered, for except by fear for they had no power to move him from this ground

He did not know how long he lay, only that surely the infection had already began

He would have to be fast, he crawled out, To get to Rabscuttle and begin to plan

How to save his people, how to get home, how to infect the King’s army and his soldiers

He blundered into stone, cool against his burning skin, and it gently his shivering shoulders

“El-ahrairah,” a quiet voice whispered, reaching beyond senses, “where are you going?”

“You said I might go when I wished, my sovereign” He breathed, “so home I am going”

“You have some purpose, El-ahrairah. What is it?”

“I have infected myself with White Blindness, there, in that terrible pit

I knew the price would be my life, one way or another but I must go before I am too wearied”

“El-ahrairah, do you know how the White Blindness is carried?”

Silence

“By the fleas in rabbit’s ears.” The Black Rabbit confessed. “You can neither catch nor carry the White Blindness.”

El-ahrairah broke against their chest, the last of his senses bubbling with tears as a broken sob filled the silence

The Black Rabbit said nothing, held him, their claws gentle against his thin fur despite their appearance

“This is a cold warren. A hard place for the living and no place at all for warm hearts and brave spirits

You are a nuisance here. Go home. I myself will save your people.

Do not have the impertinence to ask me when, for time’s power here is, at best, feeble

“They are already saved, El-ahrairah. They are already saved.”

The moment came when King Darzin and his soldiers were jeering down into the land they razed

The falling darkness crept upon them like twilight, choked them with confusion and terror

From the darkness, red eyes stalked them from the thistles, an idea of a rabbit, but a shape of horror

Too tall and too short, hunched inward and protruding, prey with a predator’s gait

But the sound, the sound, it made a sound no rabbit should be able to make

King Darzin and his soldiers fled. The rabbits, whatever creatures they were, were never seen again

When at least El-ahrairah was able to rise, the Black Rabbit was gone, and Rabscuttle was calling his name

Together they went out those icy mountains, down the stone-rattling gully in the mist, back where they came

Away from the Black Rabbit, away from Inle-Rah’s silent Owsla, away from cold and stone

But El-ahrairah was sick with shock, even Rabscuttle’s muscle and fur were thin where it had once shown

They dug a scrap and laid down for several days, the green grass and dirt ‘neath them a renewed treasure

Later, they lost their way a few times, though they had many adventures,

Of course, El-ahrairah, even with wits and tricks, was still without whisker, tail, or ears, and so Rabscuttle became his all

Together, finally, they made it home, greater and greener than they ever recalled

The warren was bigger, with more holes, more families, and rabbits they could not recognize

When asked, they realized that many years had passed, the war a story told to kittens to terrorize

They were only legends, him and Rabscuttle. All those they fought for were old or had died.

El-ahrairah sat down under a nut bush, looking out across the red fields in the dying light

“Are you angry, El-ahrairah?” Frith asked softly beside him, knowing they both saw the same bloody sight

“No my lord, I am not angry. I have learned that with creatures one loves,

Suffering is not the only thing for which one may pity them, or rather they have stopped or still run

A rabbit who does not know when a gift has made him safe is poorer than a slug, though he may think himself otherwise”

Frith sighed, knowing what he spoke of, how glamorized and dramatic it all became when truly, one had to only decide

“Wisdom is found on the desolate hillside when none comes to feed

And the stony bank where the rabbit scratches in vain before he will concede.”

But speaking of gifts, I have brought a few trifles for you.” He smiled softly,

“Here is a tail and a set of whiskers too. The ears you will find a bit strange

A bit of starlight in them, though it is quite faint, really a small change

Not near enough to give away a clever thief like you

Is Rabscuttle coming? Could you bring him? I have a gift for him too.

#Watership Down #Black Rabbit of Inle #El-ahrairah #Rabscuttle #my poems

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supercasey · 4 years

Text

TF2 RED Headcanons by an idiot that can’t pay attention well enough to read the comics

Back on my bullshit, because I apparently can’t shut up tonight. This is gonna be a big, possibly in-cohesive mess, and will probably have more focus on Scout, Pyro, Sniper, and Spy since they’re my favs, but I still felt like writing down all my dumb headcanons/ideas regarding everyone’s favorite mercenaries (at the moment at least; I might make another post like this later on, hopefully after I’ve read the comics)! Sorry if any of these seem OOC, I’m just goofin’! (Putting this under a readmore because WOW this got LONG)

Every Sunday afternoon, Scout, Pyro, and eventually Sniper when he tells everyone that he's a trans guy, hold a makeshift “Trans Buddy Club” meeting, which mostly consists of Scout mindlessly rambling about drama on base, Pyro nodding along, and Sniper occasionally adding his two cents/spilling tea as well.

Scout can speak fluent French, on account of his mom making sure to teach it to him so he could have more of a connection to his dad, but no one found out until a little after Spy told Scout he was his dad. It wasn’t long after this that Scout revealed that this entire time, he’s known every single thing that Spy's ever said to him in French, but he didn't say anything because he thought it would be funny to keep the ruse going (also because he really liked being praised in secret). Cue Spy freaking tf out because oh no, now his kid knows that he's secretly a huge softie for not only his son, but his whole team.

Sometimes Spy and Scout talk shit in French right there in front of the team, but no one has any fucking idea what they’re saying and to be honest it’s pissing Soldier off the most, much to the father and son duo’s amusement.

Pyro secretly has a little black rabbit named Lucifer (Lucy for short) in their bedroom, which they only take out to get some fresh air and hop around very early in the morning, before anyone else is awake. The only people who know are Medic, Spy, and surprisingly enough Soldier, whose raccoons became friends with Lucy.

Sniper has a goldfish in his RV, but it died three months after he joined the team; he has no idea though because Miss Pauling replaces it every time one passes away, so now Sniper is convinced he has the world’s oldest goldfish.

Scout and Soldier both really want a dog, but they're not allowed to have one on-base. :(

((Heavy plans on sneaking a dog in next Christmas and no one can stop him. It’s gonna be a Border Collie named Bandit, and it gets the most attached to Scout and Heavy.))

Demo is no longer allowed to make mixed drinks for parties; the last time he did, he got everyone so shitfaced that they had to cancel work for three days in a row in order to recover from it.

Continuing off of that: drunk headcanons.

Demoman: Unassuming drunk. Acts like he usually does, unless he’s gotten particularly shitfaced for a party/event, in which case he’ll be slurring so bad that no one can understand him anymore.

Pyro: Giggly drunk. Is just laughing the whole fucking night at nothing in particular, which scares anyone who’s still sober. If they’re too far gone, they’ll start mumbling something that sounds like it’s in Spanish.

Spy: Party drunk. An absolute fucking mess, he’s trying to impress everyone and keep their attention on him, which usually leads to him standing on tables and dancing until he falls and passes out.

Sniper: Sleepy drunk. Out like a fucking light at the slighest bit of alcohol. If he wakes up and keeps drinking though, he’ll just be slurring like Demo, only with a lot more anger in his voice. Let him sleep, or he’ll fucking stab you to death.

Scout: Clumsy drunk. Bumps into anything and everything; eventually has to be given a sippy cup for his alcohol because he dropped three glasses in a row. Talks even faster than usual, until he accidentally fucking pukes on someone.

Soldier: Calm drunk. Instead of getting loud and aggressive like most would think/fear, he’s just… chillin'. Just watches the shitshow as it happens, not even laughing when people get hurt/fall down. Kinda terrifying if we’re being honest here.

Engineer: Depressed drunk. His depression goes through the roof if he has too much, so he doesn't drink more than a few beers if he can help it. If he does accidentally drink too much, he'll be sobbing his eyes out in no time flat.

Heavy: Cuddly drunk. It’s very, very hard to get him drunk, since he’s really good at holding his liquor, but if you do, he’s gonna be hugging and carrying everyone he can get his hands on; you can expect him to have Medic and/or Pyro on his lap once he’s drunk enough.

Medic: Angry drunk. He wants to start fights with fucking everyone, all his rage coming out once he’s had a few too many; god help anyone who tries to stop him. Luckily for all involved, Heavy is more than capable of holding him still until he tires himself out.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Dumbass drunk. With too many bottles in her, she’s gonna be the one shouting and encouraging Spy to act reckless, while also encouraging Engie to drink more because quitting is for losers. Will pass out within an hour or so of downing her first drink.

BONUS The Administrator: Stereotypical drunk. Slurring, stumbling, she’s got the whole nine yards, but she’ll be damned before she let’s anyone see her that messed up. Secretly sips wine at work.

Okay, back to my rambling.

My personal headcanon names and ages for Scout’s older brothers, going from oldest to youngest: Grant 34, Timothy 32, Jacob 31, Arthur 31, Patrick 30, Malcolm 27, Curtis 26, and Jeremy (Scout) 23.

((Also, I’mma go off on my headcanon personalities for them, which are based off of how I’ve tried portraying them in my "Jeremy" fic.))

Grant - 34 years old - Bisexual - Occupation: Veteran/Construction worker - Personality: the oldest of the bunch, he takes it upon himself to keep his little brothers in line/help Ma out as much as he can. Enlisted in the Air Force after he graduated high school, and still takes a lot of pride in his veteran status after serving overseas three separate times. The family peacemaker.

Timothy - 32 years old - Homosexual - Occuptaion: Cartoonist - Personality: the gentlest of his brothers, he often gets roped into helping Grant keep the pack from running too wild. Bit of a softie; loves his husband and loves his job. Closest relationship is with Scout. Doesn’t approve of Scout being a merc but is too scared to say so. The family heart.

Jacob - 31 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Freelance guitarist - Personality: the firstborn of the only set of twins, Jacob is a lot more abrasive and instigating than his twin brother. Can’t grow a beard for shit, which pisses him off. Doesn’t get along well with Timmy, despite them both being talented and devoted artists. The family sword.

Arthur - 31 years old - Pansexual - Occupation: Carpenter - Personality: the second born of the only set of twins, Arthur is far more outgoing and nonchalant than his twin brother. Has a beard and loves it more than life. Secretly has a boyfriend, but is too nervous to come out. Gets along better with Jacob after they’ve become adults. The family shield.

Patrick - 30 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Hairdresser - Personality: probably the least social of all of the brothers, he prefers staying out of sight and out of mind tbh. Used to practice cutting everyone’s hair when they were kids. Doesn’t talk to his brothers that much, mostly due to being busy/forgetting to call more. The family shadow.

Malcolm - 27 years old - Heteromantic Asexual - Occupation: Wrestler - Personality: the most aggressive and physically competitive of his brothers, there’s nothing he won’t do to win a fight, save for using weapons/lethal force. Hard to get along with, but he still loves his brothers to bits, and was overprotective of Scout when they were younger. The family instigator.

Curtis - 26 years old - Heterosexual - Occupation: Bartender - Personality: was a total fucking mama’s boy growing up, and constantly got in trouble with his brothers for tattling on them. Still argues with Scout every time they see each other. Wants to make Ma proud, but it’s hard for him to keep a job for very long. The family drifter.

Jeremy - 23 years old - Transmale Pansexual - Occupation: Mercenary - Personality: (This is mostly for how he was as a kid) was constantly following his brothers around (especially Malcolm) in hopes of getting in on the fun. Was always treated as the family baby, so everyone was a bit scared to wrestle/fight with him for fear of getting him hurt. Very close to Timmy and Ma. The family runt.

No one on RED team can fucking drive well, save for MAYBE Sniper, but even he hates doing it. Spy gets so goddamn mad within two seconds of driving, Pyro can't stop swerving, Scout drives like a 16 year old who hasn't realized their own mortality yet, Medic jumps at every little inconsistency on the road, Heavy shouts at other drivers for being too slow/fast, Demo's depth perception is shit, Engie drives like a 90 year old grandmother, and Soldier is fine except he will literally shoot at other drivers for tailgating him/cutting him off.

The whole team has designated “Team Bonding Days” thanks to Miss Pauling, which involves playing board games, card games, and video games (in a slightly more modernized AU) together… this, of course, goes badly sometimes. The worst incident they ever had was a bad game of Monopoly that almost ended Heavy and Medic's friendship.

Uno is forever banned from Team Bonding Days. No explanation is needed.

Off the battlefield and in the base, Miss Pauling had the team set up a chore wheel, which is only occasionally followed. Engie is the most dedicated to following it, while Demo and Sniper try everything in their power to avoid cleaning the base.

Spy sometimes disguises himself as other teammates in order to get out of doing his chores, which has led to a lot of shouting matches that ended in Spy being forced to admit it was his fault.

Spy's favorite teammates to disguise himself as are Engie and Scout. He likes being Engie because he gets to be more affectionate with people without being found out, and he can act as Scout incredibly easily due to knowing him so well (tbh he's so good at masquerading as Scout that it's scary).

For Halloween, everyone put their names in Soldier's hat, then proceeded to pull out other teammates’ names to dress up as for their Halloween party. I dunno exactly who would be who, except that Scout traded around to get Spy, steals one of Spy's suits, and just goes around the party bonking people with a plastic baguette he bought online and speaking in a purposefully bad accent.

Spy: Mon fils, you can speak perfect French and you fucking know it. Please stop making a fool of ton père.

Scout: Hohoho, wee wee, I am a fucking frog that gets pegged by baguettes, hoho!

((Spy is this fucking close to committing filicide.))

Everyone can actually cook pretty well, but only very specific things for each merc: Demo can mix and blend drinks (not just alcoholic ones) like it's nothing, Pyro and Heavy like baking, Medic can barbecue anything, Scout knows how to make a lot of shit from scratch (thanks, Ma), Spy and Engie can grill like the true dads they are, Soldier will deep fry every piece of food he eats, and Sniper makes the best soups and stews imaginable.

In order of least to most messy bedrooms: Spy, Heavy, Engie, Sniper, Pyro, Demoman, Medic, Scout, and Soldier. You'd think Scout's would be the worst, but Soldier's room looks like a literal fucking war-zone.

Even when they're not working but get injured in some way (namely from shenanigans/horseplay), people will straight up kill themselves in order to respawn without the injury. The pettiest thing anyone ever respawned off-duty for was Medic suiciding over a tiny ass paper cut.

Demoman is scarily competent at the weirdest of times. For instance, Engie was once trying to figure out how to fix an issue on one of his turrets, only for Demo to stumble over, completely shitfaced, and point out the problem as well as the solution, before passing out under Engie's worktable. Demo doesn't remember this at all.

The first time Engie swore in front of the team in excess (due to dropping a hammer on his foot while he was tinkering), everyone was absolutely horrified because they had only ever heard him say “fiddlesticks” and the like.

Medic's room may not be the messiest, but goddamn is his office a fucking bomb waiting to go off 90% of the time. No one but Medic can find anything in the mess, which is just fine by him.

Heavy likes to sing (mostly just to Sasha) when he's cleaning her in the locker room. The others try to be within hearing range when he does this, because holy fuck, Heavy is a very good singer! He mostly just sings soft songs/lullabies, so his singing is sometimes used by the team insomniacs to help them get some much needed rest.

Okay, another group one. The mercs during shopping trips together:

Demoman: Sneaks a shit ton of alcohol into the cart when no one's looking. Starts complaining if he has to be at the store for too long; will try and sneak away to go home at least once during the trip. Accidentally bumps into a display case and makes a huge fucking mess.

Pyro: Sits obediently in the cart the whole time, occasionally nabbing candy and stuffed animals off of nearby shelves. Will puppy-dog eyes their way into getting everything they grabbed, no matter how much it is.

Spy: Somehow managed to steal an employee uniform and he pretends to work at the store the whole trip; the other mercs keep accidentally falling for it and asking for his help. This all goes to shit when a Karen starts shouting at him over something he didn't do, and he straight up slaps her.

Sniper: King of forgetting wtf was on the list and just grabs shit on the grounds of “Doc said we needed milk, right?” and other such excuses. Knows where everything is despite never having come here before.

Scout: “Gimme the list, I can get everythin' in, like, ten minutes!” Wants to speedrun grocery shopping due to years of shopping with his mom and brothers. Will run loose if left unsupervised and accidentally bust ass on some spilled milk.

Soldier: The one who spilled the milk that Scout busts his ass on. Insists he knows where he's going, but doesn't. Gets into a fistfight with a soccer mom while everyone's waiting to check out; the soccer mom won.

Engineer: Has a full, printed list of everything the team needs, which is organized by aisle number. Is the one who gives into Pyro's begging. Team Dad; keeps an eye on everyone and stops the soccer mom from murdering Soldier.

Heavy: Pushes the cart the entire time. Spends way too money on stuff in the protein shake aisle. At one point runs the cart down the aisle and let's go because Pyro wanted him to, and it ends up crashing into Demo.

Medic: Argues with the pharmacists at the pharmacy counter. Got lost with Soldier until they found Scout unconscious, so he had to perform CPR in the dairy aisle and a fucking paramedic criticized him the whole time; the paramedic hasn't been seen since.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Tries to more or less chaperone this shitshow of a shopping trip. Starts out cheerful and happy, ends up threatening to put child leashes on every last one of these dumbasses.

After Spy taught him how to dance in Expiration Date, Scout goes to him occasionally for advice, such as how to change a tire, how to cook certain things, how tf to do laundry, etc. Spy secretly loves that Scout does this, and tries to help him as much as he can.

Everyone on the team has called Engie “Dad” at least once, even Spy and Medic. No one comments on it.

Medic has been known to go on hour long tirades about anti-vaxxers, with Engie sometimes joining in.

Heavy buys Pyro stuffed animals during his trips to visit his family, which has started a tradition of everyone buying Pyro stuffed animals/toys when they go somewhere without them. Pyro's room is starting to look like a preschooler’s dream bedroom.

Scout calls his mom every other Friday, and he’ll occasionally let his teammates talk to her. Soldier always goes on and on about how good a soldier Scout has been (Scout cries like a baby), Medic tells her about Scout’s latest injuries (Scout damn near chokes him over it), Sniper is just glad to talk to a mom who won’t scold him for the whole phone call, Pyro hums music while Scout’s Ma sings the lyrics for them, Heavy talks about living in huge families with her, Demo asks her how she’s doing and if he can help her out at all, Engie is polite and also praises Scout, and Spy just tells her he’ll call her later before hanging up (Scout punches him for being rude to his mama).

Spy calls Scout's mom on the Fridays that Scout doesn't, mostly to check on her and sometimes to get into some, uh, “steamy” conversations over the phone. Sniper overheard a conversation between them once and now he can't look Scout or Spy in the eyes anymore.

And that's all I've got for right now! I hope you all liked my stupid headcanons!

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josephsaturn · 3 years

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Persona 5 AU

Ok, here it is!

This is going from the beginning of the au to izuku’s persona awakening

Cw: Mental breakdown mention

In this AU, izuku doesn’t meet all-might

He heads straight home, and All-Might catches the sludge on his own

He only gets through a week at aldera before having a stress-induced mental breakdown

Just…constant bullying, mixed in with ruminating on Bakugo’s taunt is what caused it

Izuku spends 2-3 weeks in a children’s hospital recuperating and floating in and out of awareness

Even after he’s discharged, he still has those moments

He decides not to go back to aldera, as the mere thought makes him want to vomit

(The kids there cheer when that’s revealed, but Bakugo feels a twinge of guilt. He crushes it down.)

While at home, izuku notices a story about a teacher in Tokyo getting done-in by the ��phantom thieves” while he was recuperating

He looks into it more, and finds the Phan-site

He falls into that rabbit hole HARD

He even begins posting a thread on who he thinks the phantom thieves are

Lots of people give their 2 cents; all in all, it’s a pretty popular thread

However, after Madarame is captured (which in this au takes place on may 23rd, since my version of Ren doesn’t like having stuff hang over him for too long) is when izuku decides to truly take action

He begs his mom to let him live in Tokyo and attend middle school there

She, obviously, doesn’t want him to go at first, but after heavy promises of calling her every night, and making sure he always has something on his person to defend himself, and most importantly, tell her if he’s getting bullied, she relents

He gets an apartment in akihabara and attends middle school there (it’s ok there, most kids there don’t hate him on sight for his lack of quirk, so that’s a plus)

He keeps investigating, and gets confronted in a pm by Mishima to hey, could you not

Izuku wants to know why, but Mishima gives no actual answer, and instead bans him for a few days and deletes the thread

While sulking, he gets a pm from somebody named Alibaba

Alibaba lurked around the site, and took an interest in izuku’s thread to discover the phantom thieves

They’ll lend their services, but on 1 condition: whatever izuku finds, Alibaba gets to know first

Around June 11th, he goes to Leblanc (since his mom recommended it for the food, and to meet an old friend)

There he makes quick friends with sojiro, and they discuss his mom

Context: Inko was a famous lawyer who was a prodigy in keeping innocent people from facing unjust punishments. She met Sojiro and Wakaba while at a cafe and the three of them became good friends

However, there was a massive political scandal that Inko was on the “wrong” side of (in reality, Shido didn’t like how close she was to discovering his Cabal, so he set that scandal up to discredit her)

What didn’t help matters was the fact that she supported Toranosuke Yoshida in that year’s election, who himself had been involved in a scandal a few years earlier

So she left, disgraced, met Hisashi, and had izuku

Anyway, Sojiro’s charge and his friends enter, ready for some yummy hotpot

Izuku & them banter a bit, and Mona gets pets from izuku

He leaves, and asks Alibaba to look into Ren Amamiya and his friends, as well as the Kamoshida case

Something about that friend group seems weird…

They comply, and by June 13th, he’s got school records and such, and an unredacted version of the Kamoshida case

The student that started Kamoshida’s downfall, Shiho Suzui, was a girl on the volleyball team who’d been M*l*st*d by the teacher

Her best friend? Ann Takamaki, who, along with Suzui, seemed to be a target of harassment by kamoshida, and both went to middle school with Ryuji Sakamoto

Sakamoto himself had assaulted Kamoshida in his first year, earning both a limp and the track team’s disbandment

Ryuji and Ren had been late to their first day of second year, which was a mark on their reports

Looking at it from a certain point of view, it seems like Ann & Ryuji had a vendetta, and dragged Ren into it

On the other hand, Yusuke Kitagawa from Kosei didn’t seem like he had any involvement, at least until Izuku reads that Kitagawa was Madarame’s pupil

The pieces click together, and Izuku, in order to confirm his suspicion, hangs out at Leblanc more often

(This is by June 15th btw)

He also follows them around to catch them in the act

On the 26th, he manages to catch them going into Kaneshiro’s palace

He gets swept up in it, and appears in the cognitive Shibuya

He follows the Thieves into the actual palace (later, when asked how the hell he got up there, he’d shrug and say “I’m not really sure myself”)

Ends up getting captured and brought to shadow Kaneshiro

They banter a bit, with him accidentally revealing both his surname and his quirklessness, and Kaneshiro taunts the thieves by saying he’ll execute this weird green kid that showed up

The thieves make it to where Kaneshiro & Izuku are, and a whole interaction takes place where the context from earlier pops up

Kaneshiro tells the story of inko, and muses about just how much money her son would fetch on the black market, even willing to cancel Makoto’s debt

They say no, obvi, and the shadow says things about how quirkless are only useful for whatever price they can fetch (they are quite rare, after all, and many rich people might want one or two around, for servants that can’t fight back), and any other thing they want to pursue is just delaying the inevitable

Izuku has his shut up, Hannibal! Moment, and awakens his persona: John Constantine

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #the phantom thieves #p5 au #persona 5

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matildainmotion · 3 years

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How to Keep the Children Safe? What will you Risk?

When I first held my son after his birth, I did not feel the famous rush of maternal love - the love came later, growing, deepening - what I felt in that first moment was a rush of responsibility. His life is in my hands, I thought. Nine years later, along with the love, I still feel this, because that’s the deal as a parent, isn’t it? It’s our job to keep them safe.

But how? It often seems like a difficult task. Some of the friction that my husband and I have weathered as a couple, transitioning into parenthood, has been over our different ideas and feelings about how to fulfil our protective role. My husband’s approach is physical and immediate. He is on high alert beside busy roads, on train station platforms, and when crossing big bridges. In my pre-motherhood life, I was a circus aerialist, and we have some of my old circus equipment rigged up beside the dinner table (not recommended for peaceful mealtimes) - wild swinging also makes my husband nervous.

Whether it is because of my aerial training, in which doing physically risky things was part of the course, or because I have read The Continuum Concept too many times, I have tended to take a different approach. In The Continuum Concept Jean Liedoff describes the Yequana people’s radical approach to child-rearing and in particular to health and safety. She writes of the innate trust the adults hold in their children, to the point that they leave babies rolling around beside the village water hole, allow toddlers to wield knives, and no one comes to any harm. Her theory goes that children are social beings and will do what is expected of them - if they intuit that they are expected to fall and hurt themselves, they will. If they are expected to balance, and keep poised, they’ll do that. Seen from Liedoff’s perspective, we, in the West, are a health & safety, and safeguarding-obsessed culture, that gets more dangerous every day, because the former (the safety policies) anticipates and thereby invites the latter (danger!).

However, whether it be my aerial training or my parenting reading, the fact is that I stay calmer than my husband when crossing bridges, or witnessing wild swinging, but it would be wholly misrepresentative to suggest that I am the cool, laid back parent and he is the uptight one.

When our children are tucked up safe in their beds at night, is when I grow afraid. If my husband’s concerns are physical and immediate, mine are emotional and long-term. Night is the time when I look at the two of them, at their quiet faces in the dark, and think about their futures. The future of the next day, or the future of their lives in ten years time. It is at night that I imagine my daughter running out into the road, not by day when we walk beside it. It is at night that every possible horror- attacks, abuse, illness - comes visiting.

Because of these contrasting attitudes to danger and risk, my husband and I also take different steps towards the actual act of keeping our children safe. My daughter likes to bounce on our bed (of course - that’s what a parent’s bed is for, isn’t it?). Our bed has another bed built in above it. When we moved in, on the ladder up to the other bed, was a metal hook. This hook would get perilously close to my daughter’s head as she bounced, which would worry my husband, so eventually he got a screwdriver and took it down. I can do nothing so practical to protect my children from the dangers I fear may harm them, so I resort to cliched superstitions. I touch wood - I have a wooden egg I hold at night. I cross myself when I see a magpie, thumb lifted to my forehead - my father, despite not being a religious man, used to do this, and I keep up the tradition, in part to honour him, in part for me, for the children. I throw salt over my shoulder when it spills. I know these are preposterous acts - I am ashamed of them, although that does not stop me doing them.

I do not intend to defend my approach and criticise my husband’s. Anyway, something humbling happened yesterday, whilst I was working on this blog, that put an end to any chance of that. My daughter came to me and asked me to somersault her – a her-walking-up-my-legs and then me-flipping-her-over-the-top manoeuvre – which we have done a hundred times. But this time, whilst doing it, she dislocated her elbow. It was easily reset, as it turned out, but driving her to A&E, along dark roads, gave me a short, sharp taste of what it is to be in real fear for my child, of the fierceness of the need to take care of her physically right here, right now. I realised my long-term night-time worries are a luxury – they only arise out of living in a situation of relative safety.

And yet, they go on.

And yet, some long-term thinking is part of the job.

Because to be a parent necessarily involves a constant holding of two timescales. The minutiae of the days- the second by second demand of the children’s needs- and the epic scope of a whole life, from that first moment that we held them to…..we do not know what, but it is, in some way, our task to prop up a possible future for them, until they are ready to step into it, and it becomes their present.

I believe it is a challenging time to be a parent, to have to carry on, with the minutiae, with the beds to be bounced on, the roads to be crossed, the somersaults to be supervised, as if the world were fine, as if it were all going to be okay, when we have no idea whether it is, but increasing evidence to the contrary. I am thinking of the climate crisis; I am thinking of societal collapse, of further pandemics, extreme weathers, war, of all the things that may come to pass within my children’s lifetimes. In the face of these things, taking down a hook and throwing salt over a shoulder, both seem entirely inadequate actions (though the former is more useful). What to do? How to keep them safe?

As has become my practice - the practice that lies at the heart of Mothers Who Make - I turn to my making for answers. As an artist, risk-taking is reframed as a positive act. I know this and understand it, on a stage, and in my writing. It is ironic that my afraid-of-big-bridges-husband, teaches improvisation, and the importance of moving determinedly towards the danger, whatever it is, inside a story. Get into trouble. Cross the bridge, lean far out over the raging river, fall in - is the practice he teaches in this context. And when I am writing, I know too to go to the place that feels most vulnerable. I found this blog inside a moment when I was reaching for a crystal of spilt salt. I thought, “Could I admit to doing this?” and that felt dangerous and difficult, so I thought I better had.

In our art we take risks, just like our children do in their play. We can explore the horror, the creatures hunched in the shadows, the underside of everything, the monsters under the bed, the churning water under the bridge. It is also, of course, why artists and their art have at times been banned, by certain authorities, because art can tell of untold dangers, and sometimes people in power would prefer them to stay un-told, unmentioned. But I believe the whole point of art is that it has the potential to hold all the dangers, safely. Unlike my superstitions, rituals that try to push the dangers away, art is a ritualistic act that turns towards the dangerous and the difficult, and welcomes it in. Art is like salt - ordinary and precious. Not something to be thrown over your shoulder into the devil’s eye, but something to scatter deliberately and generously, something that preserves, keeps things good - even the devil -adds flavour, cleans, something to be found both inside us, in our sweat, our tears, and outside us in the sea - something that helps us float. There is a folktale I remember from my childhood, one of the sources of King Lear, in which salt is the symbol of true parent-child love: a good daughter tells her father that she loves him as much as salt loves meat. He doesn’t appreciate this at the time, but he comes to do so, when he tastes what it would be like to dine in a salt-less world - about as terrible as living in an art-less one.

But in what way can our salty art help keep our kids from harm?

Well, I cannot teach them wilderness survival skills, which in one of my imagined versions of an apocalyptic future, they are going to need. I cannot show them how to make a fire out in the woods, without matches. But I can teach them how to sit around that fire and tell a wild story, and I believe they will need that too.

Both my children have a story-telling gene – actually, I think we all have this in our DNA. Artists or otherwise, we are story-makers, and our children are ready to take risks inside the stories that they tell. My daughter saw a Pride rainbow the other day and asked me about it. I tried my best to explain the range of identities that the colours celebrated. She said, “So, is it also standing for all the rabbits who feel they are squirrels? And all the eyebrows that are lips?” She expanded my limited understanding of the gender spectrum and divergent identities right then and there. One way, I think, to help protect her, is to encourage her to take risks in her play, in her dreams, her stories, about rabbits, eyebrows, lips and more.

Despite our different approaches to health and safety, this is where my husband and I join up - we both believe that supporting our children’s creativity, and our own, is one way to help them to stay safe, stay afloat in the world, with all its rising sea levels. When, in the bedroom at night, I think about the future, and then think about my children, I feel scared. But, by day, as I listen to their stories, when I think about my children, and then think about the future – in that order, with them coming first - I feel hopeful. They, along with the rest of their generation, and the stories that they tell, are the best hope that we have. Maybe, in the end, they will keep us safe and not the other way around. But until the time when they are old enough to do this, I will keep on propping up a possible future for them, and keep on making, because however tiny my contribution, grain by grain, salt crystal by crystal, I think making makes the world a safer place.

P.S. A question I asked myself yesterday when my daughter hurt her arm: Does the art really matter when things get real?

But then on the way to A&E, frightened and tearful, my daughter wanted a story about the most clumsy monkey that ever existed in the jungle, called Oops A Daisy. Oops A Daisy was so clumsy that she was forever slipping over her own banana skins….

So, yes, I think it does.

Here, then, are my questions for you for the month:

What is your approach to health and safety? Your own? Your children’s?

What risks do you, or could you take in your creative work, however tiny? What dangers can you safely hold?

What do you do when the salt spills?

Poem below by Zoe Gardner @limberdoodle

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kewltie · 4 years

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contains: predator/prey dynamic, animal characteristic, uh cannibalism (??), unhealthy relationship dynamic

The day after an UA’s staff had discovered the mangled and half eaten carcass of one of their students, a weasel third year, the campus was in a shutdown for an entire week as they tried to uncover which one of the carni had broken the Accords and became a headhunter.

Every single herb students was warned once, twice, and too many times to never walk the dark street alone after sunset because while the age of active predation had gone in Para-Dice, behind the stone walls of the Savagelands, they still participate in the Hunt.

No herbivore is safe.

Even in one of the most prestigious colleges in the city, where every vores live seemingly in harmony. There’s always an undercurrent of danger between the two very distinct classes because all it take is a swipe of carni’s claw sinking into someone’s flesh and they’re done. The ravenous hunger will take them, turning a friendly lion who one had shared classes and jokes with previously into a famished beast set out to consume your very flesh.

Their society is built on this precarious balancing act. Danger lives in the heart their closest friend.

"Izuku, are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?" Ochako asks for the fifth time already, her white wings contracting anxiously behind her.

Izuku waves her off. "I'm fine," he insists, "my dorm isn't that far from here and if you take me home, who will take you back anyway?"

"I'll get Tenya to walk with us!" Ochako persists. She’s a crane; large wings, a noble and beautiful feature, but they’re mainly omnivore and a gentle soul.

He shakes his head, his long ears swinging with it. "He just fell asleep from cramming for his ochem exam, I really don't want to bother him," he argues. "It's okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Ochako bites down on her lower lip. "I just want you to be careful because," she leans in and lowers her voice as though telling a secret, "of the headhunter. It's dangerous right now since they haven't found the vore yet. It'll break my heart if you become another statistic."

"I don't know why anyone would want to eat me, when I don't even taste that good.” Izuku frowns, brows furrowing as he pinches the skin on his arm. "If they were to eat me, they'll just spit me out or maybe they just like the taste of horrible rabbit meat."

Reeling back, Ochako cries out, "Izuku!"

He cracks a smile. "Sorry, sorry!" He laughs, tugging one of his ears down. "I don't mean to joke about it, but you know how I'd lived in the Savagelands before coming here? Well, I'm used to this kind of imminent danger."

Ochako frowns, wings still flapping wildly with every slight movement. "Okay," she says, letting out a long tired sigh, "if you're that sure then." Like, she still isn't used to Izuku's reckless nature that had created such a stir even among their more colorful student populations. Because despite Izuku's herb status and the skittish nature of rabbits overall, Izuku acts like one of the apex predators on their campus—in the likes of wolves and lions, where he moves easily and freely among them as though he was always a part of their class.

He’s bunny herbivore, bred and raised in the curtains of the Savageland, where fear was his constant companion and threat of being eaten had hung over his head every waking second. To live was privilege given only to the strong, powerful, and the ones who hungered. Compare to that, this is easy.

Izuku gives her a thumb up and he quickly grabs his bags and books, making a dash out of her dorm room before she can change her mind. He climbs down the stairs to the first floor and heads toward the exit of Green Leaf Dormitory, one of the only herbivore dorms on campus. Outside the sky is completely blackened with only the full moon and the streetlights to guide him back to his dorm. It's only 9PM on a Thursday but the campus is eerily quiet. The looming danger of a headhunter still running amok keeps most vores locked in their dorm, but Izuku marches on.

On a full moon like this, they say it's when all the wild ones come out. The ominous sounds and shadows that dogged Izuku's steps could be anything from a fallen trashcan, a rustling of the leaves or something else, something dangerous, but Izuku isn't faze by any of it. Strolling his way across a darkened path that isn't as well lit as the more main routes but it cuts his time in half, Izuku hums a familiar song he'd heard in Ochako's dorm room earlier.

It's a love song, light and upbeat in contrasts to the grim setting that surrounds him. Oh, darling we love, love, so tonight we feast like beasts—

Large hands suddenly appear from the shadow to grabs him from behind, causing him to drop his books to the ground. A palm is pressed over his mouth to suppress his scream as the other hand rips his backpack away from him, before latching onto his waist in a forceful grip.

Left defenseless and no direct line of sight to his attacker, Izuku's heart races just for a second before a large sturdy body enveloped his back, head poking over Izuku's shoulder as his breath ghosts Izuku's cheek. He shivers against the familiar warmth and breathes, "K-Kacchan!"

Katsuki spins him around so that they're facing each other properly, his hands never leaving Izuku's waist as green eyes collides with red. "Deku," he says, and it's an entire world in a single word. "You goddamn idiot." His chest rumbles in a low threatening growl.

With the tip of his right ear folding over unhappily at the scolding, Izuku pouts. "I was fine," he insists.

Katsuki glares at him. "There's a wild headhunter on the loose and you're wandering around after dusk like a dumbass with a sign 'eat me' over his fucking head." He grabs one of Izuku's furry ears and tugs it down purposefully. "They said rabbit meat is delicious, you wanna test that out personally?"

Izuku frowns. "You would know that wouldn't you?" he says impishly, meeting Katsuki’s glare with his own. "Taste any bunny boy lately?"

Katsuki's teeth bares, fangs protrudes pass his lips in a snarl that both sends Izuku's heart racing and ears twitching in excitement. He tightens his hold around Izuku's waist but the way his claws dig in, piercing Izuku's shirt but careful enough not to draw blood says enough.

Izuku throws his arm over Katsuki's shoulder, wrapping them around his neck as he pull him down and butts their head against each other. A purr stirs from him as he tries to smooth over Katsuki's aggressive stance. "Sorry, that was mean of me," he offers quietly in chagrin. "You're not like that." He pauses, and shakes his head meaningfully. "Not like them at all. I know you've been abstaining from eating red meat for my sake and—" he looks up, green eyes meet piercing red ones, "even if that wasn't the case, I'm not afraid of you, Kacchan."

"Stupid fool," Katsuki scolds, a familiar refrain that Izuku had heard a thousand times before since the day Izuku was brought into the Forest to be part of the Hunt, where elite carni in the Savageland can get their bloodlust and hunger met like the true beasts of burden that they are.

The Hunt has been long banned and consider barbaric practice within the walls of Para-Dice, but in the Savagelands the tradition not only lived on but thrive in the bosom of the elite carnivores who bred and raised helpless bunnies like him so he can be feast upon later in a game to meet their bloodlust; a lamb reared to be slaughter.

Katsuki was —is— apart of it and he was furiously hunted Izuku’s kind down and was about to rip his flesh apart that day in the Forest, but Izuku had went to him on trembled knees and begged to be eaten first so others can live. Katsuki had rightfully called him a stupid fool and kept him instead.

Izuku still doesn't know what had made Katsuki stop, taking him by the arm instead of a taking a bite out of him. Katsuki had thought him foolish and mad to offer himself up as food, while Izuku thought Katsuki was foolish and mad to not eat the food left out for him, but Katsuki swore to the next red meat he’ll eat it’ll be Izuku’s and Izuku’s only.

Quite frankly, they're both a little foolish and mad, choosing each other despite the hunger and fear that permeate their entire relationship. "Ah, but you adore me," Izuku says confidently, spoken like someone who had escaped the jaw of death many times over and reveled in it. He had been cheating death long enough now.

Katsuki growls, his chest rumbling in annoyance as he opens that dangerous jaw of his to reveal sharp canine teeth that had cut the flesh of many herb like him down in the past. Dangerous teeth from a dangerous beast, and Izuku's goes breathless as it descends upon him.

Katsuki presses those menacing jaw against his cheek, grazing his flesh like pinprick nail beds then he bites down — razor, soft nibble that make Izuku's cheek stings and his body arches up in response, hands clawing at the back of Katsuki's neck to push for more. Always pushing, wanting, and teasing.

Izuku’s the dangerous one. He had brought to heel this wild beast and made Katsuki his as much as he is Katsuki’s.

With eyes dilating with a throbbing desire and breath heavy, Katsuki draws back a bit reluctantly even if his face retains it frowny feature as though Izuku is his trials to bear. "I'll take you back to your dorm," he grunts out, carefully putting Izuku back in place.

Now, it's Izuku turn to frown, because really. "I'm fine," he says. “It’s not even that far off anymore.”

"Don't be stupid," Katsuki snaps, then pauses, before correcting himself, "Don't be even more stupid. Some dumbass is out there hunting dumber asses like you, so I'm not taking any fucking chances. You’re not going to become rabbit meat for someone else."

"I wouldn't let a rogue headhunter have me," Izuku argues, because if he's going to be eaten it would be Katsuki who do it. His body, his heart, and everything he could offer, he wants Katsuki to be the only one to have him like that so even if he die, he'll forever be bound to him. Tied together as one. Carni and herb’s mating aren’t frowned upon but they aren’t encouraged either, because it often results in either death or someone getting eaten. Or both.

Instinct is hard to fight off even with fabricated white meat to tame the carnivore’s aptitude, but for high aspect apex predator like Katsuki food and love is often the exact same thing. Sometimes, when Katsuki look at him Izuku can see hunger and want wars within him, and he doesn’t know if he wants to eat or fuck Izuku.

It’s all very confusing and, quite frankly, delightful at times. The fact that Izuku has lived this long while Katsuki hadn’t managed to sink his fangs completely into him said enough about Katsuki’s feelings and self-control for Izuku. He got this wild untamed wolf leashed and properly collar, but sometimes Izuku like to toe the line and see where Katsuki’s draw his boundary, just to get a taste of what it’s like to this close to death and come out alive every time.

Katsuki's eyes narrow, like he knows exactly what horrible thoughts are brewing in his head because Izuku had confessed all his twisted up desire under the cloak of darkness of their bed — eat him, rip him apart, and oh, how he wants to those teeth to sink into him one day. Death is inevitable for all vores, but to choose how one could die is a special privilege. And Izuku had already chosen.

Katsuki’s flashes those exact impeccably white teeth at him. "No, you wouldn't," he agrees gruffly, pulling Izuku along. Because he, too, wants him in that same twisted way, but not yet. Not now. They still have an entire lifetime ahead of them. There's plenty of chance for that in their future.

It's not that Izuku is fearless in the face of predation of his own kind and the hunger that keep vores like Katsuki chained to their most primal instinct. It's because Katsuki had promised him when the time is right, Izuku would be the only to offer up his heart to him and he’ll devour it like the rest of Izuku’s body.

#bakudeku #zootopia au #fic snippet #um well

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doritopaw101 · 4 years

Text

Arc1, book 2: Prologue

(Warning: Shadowclan, Any Shadowclan under Brokenstar is a warning in itself)

"Duskstar?" a gray molly flicked her tail uneasily "Why have we come here?"

The old black and white tom turned to the molly "We've been driven from every place we're tried to settle, Ashfoot, perhaps we can find peace here" he mewed

"Peace? Here?" Rabbit-tail echoed in disbelief. She pulled her kits closer to her and sheltered beneath her belly. "With monsters and fires? My kits won't be safe, none of the kits and queens will be safe! Whitetail's probably dead by that dog!"

"But we weren't safe at home" mewed another voice. A black tom pushed his way forward, limping heavily on a twisted paw. He held Dusktar's amber gaze "We couldn't protect them from Shadowclan" he spat "Not even in our own camp!. We should be grateful that the old tunnels hadn't collapsed and we escaped through them or else we all would have really been in trouble"

Anxious yowls rose from some of the cats as they remembered the terrible battle that had driven them from their home in the uplands, at the edge of the forest. A light gray tabby apprentice wailed "Brokenstar and his warriors may still be hunting us!"

The cry alerted one of the twolegs around the fire. It stood unsteadily and stared toward the shadows. At once the cats fell silent, crouching lower; even Duskstar lowered his tail. The twoleg shouted into the darkness and flung something toward them. The missile flew over their heads and exploded in a burst of thorn-sharp pieces on the Thunderpath behind.

Ashfoot flinched as a shard grazed her shoulder, but she stayed silent, curling her body around her terrified kit.

"Keep down" Duskstar hissed

The twoleg at the fire spat on the ground, then sat back down.

The cats waited for a few moments before Tallstar stood once more.

Ashfoot stood too, wincing at the new pain in her shoulder. "Duskstar..D..Dad, I fear for our safety. And what will we eat? I can't smell any prey"

Duskstar's amber eyes soften, he stretched his neck and rested his muzzle gently on his daughter's head. "I know you're hungry" he mewed "But we'll be safer here than back in our old territory, or in the twoleg fields and woods. Look at this place! Even Shadowclan wouldn't follow us here. There's no scent of dogs, and these Twolegs can hardly stand" he turned to the black tom "Deadfoot" he ordered "Take Weaselwhisker, Stagleap, and Wrenflight, and see if you can find anything to eat. If there are Twolegs, there must be rats"

"Rats?" Ashfoot spat, as Deadfoot and his group bounded away "That's no better than crow-food"

"Hush!" Sorrelflight hissed "Rat meat is better than starving to death!"

"Let's hope they don't kill us first" Ashfoot heard Flycloud mutter

Ashfoot scowled and dipped her head to lick Eaglekit behind his matted ears.

"We must find a new place to settle, Ashfoot" Sorrelflight went on this time more gently "Morningflower needs to rest and eat. Her kits will be born soon. She needs to be strong"

The lean shapes of her mate and his group emerged from the shadows

"You were right Duskstar" Deadfoot called "There are rat scents everywhere, and I think I've found somewhere we can shelter"

"Show us" Duskstar ordered, gathering the rest of his clan with a flick of his tail.

Cautiously, the cats padded across the wasteland after Deadfoot. He led them toward the raised Thunderpath, the firelight making their shadows loom against its huge stone legs. A monster roared overhead and the ground shook. But even the tiniest kit sensed the need silence and trembled without crying out.

"Here" Deadfoot mewed, stopping beside a round hole, two cats high. A black tunnel sloped down into the ground. A constant stream of water trickled into it. "The water's fresh" Deadfoot added "We'll be able to drink it"

"We'll have wet paws day and night!" Ashfoot complained

"I've been inside love" Deadfoot told her "There's some space away from the stream. At least we'll be safe from Twolegs and monsters"

Duskstar stepped forward and lifted his chin "Windclan has traveled long enough" he declared "It's nearly two moons since Shadowclan drove us from our home. The weather is turning colder, and leaf-bare will be here soon. We have no choice but to stay"

Ashfoot narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Silently she joined her Clan as, one by one, they filed into the shadowy tunnel.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The sun was rising and cats began to pile into their dens. Shadowclan cats were mostly nocturnal after all. The evening patrols had already come back and very few cats stayed out, only to keep watch.

Whitethroat was lying in his nest and he didn't want to move but he was so thirsty. He tried moving but he felt claws dig into his bulging belly as he tried.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he heard Mossclaw growl into his ear. He heard those same words the other day and the day before that for the last moon or so when Mossclaw took him over and over until he passed out. Always telling him "You're not a tom, your a molly, tom's can't get pregnant, I'm helping you feel better, Whitethroat trust me"

"To get water" Whitethroat couldn't help but hiss and kicked Mossclaw in the belly with his hind legs. He got up and began walking but he felt a heavy breath going in between his legs.

"You're mine my pretty little molly" he heard Mossclaw growl drawing his tongue along his spine "You belong to me, no one else"

'I don't belong to anyone, least of all an asshole like you I'd rather be mates with Littlecloud or Wetfoot as least they'd care about me!' he wanted to spit but held his tongue. He slapped Mossclaw with his tail as he padded out of the warriors den. The camp was calm almost peaceful...almost.

Mossclaw shoved into him. "I'm going with you" he stated.

"I can go by myself, I'm not helpless" he hissed

Mossclaw pulled Whitethroat roughly to his chest "I'm not asking you Whitethroat, I'm telling you what's happening"

Whitethroat huffed and tried to ignore the sounds of moans and whimpering he heard around camp. Ash-heart was pinned under Clawface, having their way with her. Rowanberry looked exhausted but Barkfoot and Jaggedtooth didn't care. He figured Brokenstar took Fernshade by force by Boulderpelt,Claypelt, and Mudspots. But then again it's not she got much choice, Dewflare didn't make the situation in the clan any better, if anything it's worse.

Ever since Icepaw escaped with the Thunderclan kits, she's been on a path. Dawncloud had been fucked til she passed out and even then Brokenstar ordered Jaggedtooth to not stop.

Breeders of the clan were not allowed out of camp without a guard and Palecloud was under high watch, Brokenstar seemed more eager to give the seer an apprentice now. Newtspeck was expected to rear another kits. She managed to somehow evade any advances and kept close with her daughter Whisperkit. Dewflare had a hiss with her since Icepaw's escape, more since her face had gotten clawed by Bluestar. She had a new litter recently that she didn't even know she was carrying, they were Barkfoot's kits, they're named Copperkit and Pricklekit.

He and Mossclaw didn't have to go to far from camp when they found a pond to drink from. The pond didn't look fresh but from what Whitethroat had been putting into his stomach he didn't care anymore. He fought the urge to gag as he lapped the horrid water. He caught the scent of Darkflower and Newtspeck but he also caught the scent of Nightpelt, Ashfur, and Featherstorm.

"Elders" Mossclaw growled, he caught the scent too "What are they doing here?"

"They are part of the clan frog-brain" he drawled

Mossclaw started walking the broken into a run. Whitethroat followed as best he could with his plump belly. He saw Mossclaw pounce on Newtspeck.

"What is this?" Mossclaw snarled

"Get off of her" Darkflower hissed

Whitethroat padded closer to see Nightpelt, Ashclaw, and Featherstorm crouching down, their was prey at their paws. They had been feeding them.

"Feeding these useless bags, have you no shame?" Mossclaw growled

"Bite me" Newtspeck snapped, trying to kick Mossclaw off.

"You'd say that about your own mother" Ashclaw growled

"When Brokenstar says your useless, your nothing but a distant memory" Mossclaw replied staring Featherstorm dead in the eye "Just like Volepaw"

"What are you talking about?" Featherstorm asked she turned to Darkflower "What is he talking about?"

Darkflower looked at her paws "Volepaw...he.."

"Was killed by Brownwhisker and Wetfoot during a training session, it happens" Whitethroat said with little emotion "It nearly killed Turtlepaw"

He remembered clearly when he and Littlecloud were fighting with Turtleshell for her assessment. Brokenstar wanted blood. Turtlepaw went for his belly and he didn't want his kits harmed and he knew Littlecloud wouldn't do it so he slashed Turtlepaw's throat open. He felt blood spray across his face and Turtlepaw hit the ground but she held on. Littlecloud had to bring her to Palecloud and was banned from eating for two days as punishment for doing nothing.

Though to Littlecloud it was a blessing considering what the clan had been resorting to eat. He'd seen cats sneak off to the graveyard and ate beside the crows, he did this himself a couple of times. He blocked it out of his mind when he ate an unnamed kit's body in three bites, he didn't tell Newtspeck about it, Boulderpelt did.

Featherstorm wailed for her son while Mossclaw looked heartless.

"He was weak and deserved to die" Mossclaw mewed

"You're not my son" Featherstorm growled through her tears "You're not even a cat, you're a monster"

Mossclaw smirked "Duh"

"What is going on here?" Whitethroat saw a patrol appear from the bushes. It was Frogtail, Clawface, Lizardstripe, Mudfoot, Nutwhisker, Mudspots, and Brokenstar.

Mossclaw tossed Newtspeck to Brokenstar's paws "Darkflower and Newtspeck have been feeding the bones"

Brokenstar's eyes blazed at Newtspeck "How dare you!"

Newtspeck rose "How dare I how dare I, how dare you sentence these cats to death, how dare you let innocent cats be slaughtered for no reason, raping Icepaw, you make mollies breed without limit and you wonder why some of us are sick it's because you make us have too many kits and then those kits die"

Brokenstar slashed Newtspeck across her face, he turned to Frogtail and Mudfoot "Frogtail kill Ashclaw and Mudfoot or Lizardstripe kill Nightpelt"

Whitethroat tried to step but Nutwhisker and Mudspots blocked him.

Frogtail didn't hesitate to launch himself at Ashclaw. "How could you! I helped Nightpelt raise you and Darkflower!" Ashclaw spat "I loved you like Ash-heart and Newtspeck"

"That was your mistake father" Frogtail spat but Whitethroat could tell it was an act. He knew Frogtail kept to himself or his sister and denied the chance to join the elite.

"And I'll get rid my clan of this one" Lizardstripe hissed rushing at Nightpelt. Darkflower smashed into Lizardstripe, slashing her face as she protected her father from these ruthless cats.

Newtspeck bit into Frogtail leg dragging him away "Run all of you run!" she yowled

The elders made their getaway and didn't stop. Brokenstar let out a yowl of annoyance. "Frogtail grab your sister and Mudfoot grab Newtspeck"

"Are you alright my lovely?" Mossclaw cooed, it was a horrible sound. Whitethroat only nodded and let Mossclaw nuzzle him.

Whitethroat knew what was going to happen as they made their way back to camp. As soon as they entered camp he dashed over to Appletooth,Littlecloud, and Poppyflower, telling them what happened.

"What's going to happen to my mom?" Littlecloud asked

"More breeding duties if she's lucky" Appletooth replied. She examined her claws.

"Or banning her from food" Wetfoot added padding over with Brownwhisker in tow.

Whitethroat watched as Frogtail tossed Darkflower in front of the highrock. Mudfoot tossed Newtspeck on top of her.

"All cats gather around the highrock for a clan meeting" Brokenstar yowled

Cats padded from their dens, looking tired and weak.

"These two cats have broken the code when they decided to feed elders" Brokenstar mewed "They will be punished for this" he gazed down on the two mollies. "Darkflower, you're already expecting my kits once again yes?"

Darkflower stood on shaking legs "Yes"

"You are still use of pleasure for my warriors in the mean time"

"But Brokenstar" Palecloud cut in "She's showing already, it would harm the kits and she needs food if you want them to be healthy"

Brokenstar glared at the medicine cat then gazed back at Darkflower "You are as pathetic as your father, I'm ashamed to have had him as my mentor, you will confined to the camp, a warrior will be with you at all times and you will be a permanent queen for now on, as soon as finish kitting I want you fat as possible"

Darkflower whimpered, she was low to the ground tail curled around her paws. Frogtail looked ready to run over but he held himself still.

"You're a monster" Newtspeck spat

"Pardon?" Brokenstar hissed

"This would have never happened under Raggedstar or Cedarstar"

"I'm not my mother or my great uncle, I'm better than they could have dreamed of"

'If your better I don't want to see what's worse' Whitethroat thought

"You have innocent cats killed, rape apprentices, exile elders and your own mother for what? Needless Bloodshed!"

"Breeding or food banning is too good for a wicked cat like you" Brokenstar growled "I Brokenstar sentence you Newtspeck to death by battle"

Silence filled the clan at Brokenstar's words until Newtspeck spoke up.

"I call for Blood for the Star" Newtspeck hissed back "Fight me coward or hand over Shadowclan to me or better yet Marshshadow and Blazefang, it was their birth right to lead, you were the runt no one expected to live"

The clan gasped with shock

"Is she insane?" Wetfoot hissed

"Mama!" Littlecloud whimpered while Brownwhisker looked away.

"Darkflower, stay with Whisperkit, Copperkit, and Pricklekit" Poppyflower mewed "They'll need a mother after this" the black molly nodded and sliped into the rotten den.

Dewflare hissed "You vile-"

"Silence love" Brokenstar mewed "I accept"

He leaped from the low branch and was opposite of Newtspeck "Palecloud?"

The seer rushed forward, he placed a skull on his head "I Palecloud, seer of Shadowclan, call upon the bloodied spirts that have fought and fallen of the battle for the star to look upon these two cats as they fight and declare one of them victorious" He held it for a moment then yowled "Begin!"

Brokenstar went full force, flaying his weight around trying to smash Newtspeck. His body size from Yellowfang was the only thing he got from her, he got the rest from Raggedstar from what Marshshadow told him.

Newtspeck was smaller and faster. She leaped forward and made a good shot at Brokenstar's ear and the side of his throat. Brokenstar snapped his jaws and Newtspeck dodged to the side and raked her claws across his side.

Despite being starved and attacked daily, Newtspeck was still a good fighter. But against a full strength and well fed Brokenstar, it was surprising she lasted as long as she did but it had to come to an end. Newtspeck had ripped into Brokenstar's back, slicing one his ears before he grabbed her violently by her leg. He threw her onto the ground and bit into her tail, she yowled in agony but Dewflare held her down.

"Palecloud!" Littlecloud pleaded

"She's lost Littlecloud" Palecloud stated, his head low "We all knew she'd lose"

Newtspeck let out a final yowl as Brokenstar ripped a good portion of her tail off. She barely moved, her eyes looked everywhere, she was still in shock.

"Shame" Barkfoot sneered "What do we do with her?"

"Normally we kill her by now" Nutwhisker drawled "May I do it? I want to find Ashclaw and show him her head"

Brokenstar spread Newtspeck's legs "Not at the moment Nutwhisker, she's still very fertile. I'll be damned if I kill good breeding stock" he pulled Newtspeck close and she didn't fight back, and slammed into her.

Whitethroat stopped watching and headed to the nursery glad that Mossclaw was to amused to go after him. Whitethroat felt the familiar pain in his belly and knew the kits were coming.

He saw his mother and aunt on both his sides. "Come on, we'll help you" Blazefang mewed

"We'll stay with you my son" Marshshadow added, licking his head

Whitethroat looked over his shoulder at his uncle who's eyes gleamed with sick joy as he thrusted into Newtspeck, the blood from her ripped tail was pooling beneath "This is what will happen if you try to defy me" Brokenstar declared "Applefang take her head and Brownfang get a stick, I have another ceremony to preform as well, Dawncloud bring Oak-kit, Viperkit, Foggykit, Pinekit, Marigoldkit, and Foxkit"

5 notes · View notes

hurlumerlu · 4 years

Text

assigning d&d classes to my gf, the struggle :

Barbarian : why it works :

was, in her wild youth, banned from at least two bars for “instigating fights”

still unable to resist an arm-wrestling challenge

i’m not allowed to tell people about the spoon incident but i can mention the spoon incident and let your imagination run wild.

why it doesn’t :

is much chiller now

used to say shit like “it’s impolite to say ‘bon appétit’ because it calls attention to bodily functions” :( and that is NOT barbarian behaviour

too smart.

Bard : why it works :

really knows how to make a serie of misfortunes sound like an exciting adventure

a flair for the dramatic

always improvising little songs about our cat.

why it doesn’t :

look it just feels wrong and i don’t like it

would probably get horrible stage fright

there’s only so many words that rhyme with “cat”

Cleric :

why it works :

I just think she would REALLY enjoy playing one.

why it doesn’t :

the idea of her spending her life in the service of a deity is so fucking funny, she would hate it SO much.

Druid :

why it works :

would really have fun with druid powers

would probably greatly enjoy the weird hermit life (as long as hot baths were an option)

why it doesn’t :

not neutral enough

doesn’t smoke weed

Fighter :

why it works :

an efficient, well-balanced class that would suit her very well

why it doesn’t :

it just doesn’t sound fancy enough

Monk : HA ! No.

Paladin :

why it works :

her username is litteraly @the-lady-knight

a type of charisma that suits her better than bard

she wouldn’t worship a deity but have you ever heard her talk about labour laws ? Inspirational.

why it doesn’t :

favours underhanded tactics

I imagine that if two people had decided to fight each other and had both agreed on the fact that no biting was allowed during the fight, a paladin would respect this rule. the-lady-knight would not.

she would be a great paladin but would she be a happy one ?

Ranger :

why it works :

of all the people I know she’s the one I would vote “most likely to survive getting lost in the wilderness” (and she kinda already did once, technically)

i’m pretty sure there was a time in her childhood when her best friend was a rabbit

she may have tried to avenge said best friend’s death (killed by a scary dog) with a bow and very real arrows, at age nine. but you can’t prove it.

why it doesn’t work :

hate the smell of wet fur

hate greasy hair (looking at you, Strider)

really, really hates camping.

Rogue :

why it works :

would probably see detecting traps as a fun mental exercice

would probably greatly enjoy being the person who appears out of thin air to stab your pal and then disapear again, if only because it’s efficient psychological warfare.

why it doesn’t :

too pretty to relegate herself to the shadows

doesn’t care about opening treasure chests.

Sorcerer :

why it works :

recovers crazy fast from burns so may have dragon blood.

why it doesn’t :

if she had magic it would be nerd magic.

Warlock : See Cleric. Wizard :

why it works :

a total nerd.

kinda combines two of her favourite things : reading about stuff and creating things (even if the thing you create is like. a magic missile)

definitely prone to hubris.

why it doesn’t :

also a total jock

not particularly into the wizard aesthetic so what’s the point ?

if she doesn’t get to punch people she’ll probably be sad.

No I’ve never played d&d, why do you ask ?

#i am however surrounded by d&d players #la vie d'un merlu #long post #i put a lot of thoughts into this i hope it will at least makes her chuckle #big up adrien

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newagesispage · 4 years

Text

MARCH 2020

PAGE RIB

The Stones are touring the U.S. again.

*****

Paul Reubens is touring with Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.

*****

Al Franken is touring.

*****

Keenan Thompson and Hasan Minhaj are bringing comedy back to the White House Correspondents dinner on April 5.

*****

Days alert: There is some casting news but most of this won’t show up until the fall. Word is a couple of newbies will be Remington Hoffman who will play Li Shin, son of Mr. Shin and Emily O’Brien may join the cast. Nadia Bjorlin (Chloe) may be on her way back. Let’s bring the original Phillip back for her!!! Brandon Barash (Stefan) will return as well as Louise Sorel ( Vivian )and Alison Sweeney ( Sami). Judi Evans is headed back. Will she play Adrienne or Bonnie?? It looks like Casey Moss (JJ), Freddie Smith (Sonny), Chandler Massey (Will) and Galen Gering (Rafe) mill head out for awhile.

*****

It looks like Friends freaks will finally get their reunion on HBO. I am glad they aren’t bringing the characters back and are just getting together to talk about their time together.

*****

Downhill hit theatres on Valentine’s Day with Will Ferrell, Julia Louis- Dreyfus and Zoe Chao. The film was written and directed by Nat Faxon and Jim Rash.

*****

The more I see of it, the more I LOVE Stumptown, the best show that nobody seems to know about. Please renew ABC!!!!!

*****

So.. Rush Limbaugh got the Medal of Freedom. Oh my.

*****

Shadow Inc. owned by former Clinton and Obama staffers made an app that thoroughly fucked up the Iowa caucus. It was good at calculating the results but not delivering them. And hey.. Wolf Blitzer, stay off the phone with people that are trying to get those results. Let them just do their job!!

*****

Brooklyn 99 is back and Vanessa Bayer is there!!!

*****

Rod Blagojevich is out and hitting every show that will have him. Trump pardoned him along with 10 other criminals including Ed DeBartolo Jr., Mike Milken and Bernard Kerik.

*****

Forty thousand kids won’t get free lunch because Trump threw them off food stamps. The two usually go hand in hand. Getting food stamps automatically sets a kid up for the free lunch program.

*****

Over 1000 former DOJ officials have asked Bill Barr to resign.** 70 former Senators have written an open letter to congress to tell them they are not fulfilling their congressional duties.**” Yoo Hoo! Bush, Clinton, Carter, Obama, you’re up.” –Patricia Arquette

*****

Pete Davidson and Kaia Gerber have split.

*****

Indiana Beach is closing after 94 years.

*****

Denny Hamlin won the 2020 Daytona 500.

*****

Can’t we get some real gigs for Rainn Wilson and Curtis Armstrong? Ok, so Cyrtis Armstrong was on Stumptown so thank goodness for that! They can do better than Dominoes and Little Caesars ads. And how funny is it that Dominoes, known for its very Chrustian owners use a Risky Business ( a film about prostitutes) ad for their product. Hmm.

*****Hey.. Comics, quit bringing up Trump and his former womanizing. It didn’t work with Clinton and it won’t work here. People just don’t seem to care. Focus on the real damage he is doing.

*****

Scary Clown is working on opening nearly a million acres of land in Utah for energy exploration that had been a National monument. Redford and Romney can’t be happy about that.

*****

A new animated series from a brand new production company owned by Natasha Lyonne and Maya Rudolph looks promising. Look for The Hospital.

*****

Southern Illinois University is giving Bob Odenkirk an honorary degree.

*****

Ukranian immigrants Lt. Col. Vindman and his twin brother are out. Ambassador to the EU Sonland is out.

*****

The Democrats had a debate on Feb. 7 . At Andrew Yang’s first chance to speak, he rehashed his stump speech. I mean, c’mon give us something new. There really seemed to be a restrained nervousness on the stage that night. Klobachar seemed too needy but she got great reviews. Biden called Buttigieg ‘a friend ‘ a couple of times. Mayor Pete did quite well. ** Deval Patrick is out** Andrew Yang is out.**Michael Bennet is out** Another debate was on Feb. 19.** Bloomberg/Yang? Is this true?

*****

Check out the new series, Hunters. It is awesome, funny and terrifying!

*****

Dozens of Native American women and girls have disappeared from Big Horn county, Montana over the last few years. The victims were later found dead and Trump has put a federal task force together.

*****

Grassley and Wyden are trying to get lower prescription drug prices but Moscow Mitch won’t bring the proposal to the floor. Others are looking to get some traction on HR3.

*****

JSW Steel has sued the Trump administration for refusing to exempt it from paying the levies on slabs of steel that the company imports.

*****

64 women have filed sexual harassment or discrimination lawsuits against Mike Bloomberg. I’m not a fan of the guy but it does seem sort of coincidental. It does not seem to matter cuz all his ads seem to be working, he is picking up steam. Tom Steyer is gaining a bit of momentum as well.

*****

The corona virus has brought us Covid 19. 600 people are being held in quarantine camps that the military has set up. Italy has new cases and the disease is spreading. Scary Clown is trying to spin it all.

*****

ICE is being sent into sanctuary cities to cause trouble for immigrants.

*****

You have to check out Horse girl with Alison Brie, Molly Shannon and Matthew Gray Gubler on Netflix .

*****

Rapper Larry Sanders AKA LV is letting us in on a miscarriage of justice he has had to live thru. LV, best known for his work on Coolio’s Gangsters Paradise, was approached by police and later put on the Calgang database. The practice put about 80,000 mostly African Americans on a sort of gang list. In a 2016 audit it was found that there were many inaccuracies including the names of babes who could not possibly be gang affiliated.

*****

Nature does not need people. People need nature. –Harrison Ford

*****

The Clark bar is back. The roll out has started in Pittsburgh and will soon spread across the country.

*****

Scientists have found some turtle fossils that are the size of a car in South America.

*****

U can donate to the Trump campaign and may win a yaqut and hunting trip with Don Jr. The Beach Boys will perform.

*****

The Oscars were held Feb. 9. Brad Pitt and the production design team won for Once upon a Time in Hollywood. Woo Hoo! Word is that Pitt has hired a speech writer to write his acceptances. JoJo Rabbit won for adapted screenplay. Little Women won for Little Women and Toy Story 4 for animated film. Laura Dern won best supporting actress. Renee Zellweger and Joaquin Phoenix too home the top actor prizes. Parasite surprised everybody and won best pic and got Bong Joon Ho a best director statue. My best dressed were Billy Porter, Antonio Banderes and his date, Janelle Monae ( her opening seemed to make some in the audience uncomfortable), Robert DeNiro, Laura Dern, Diane Ladd, Geena Davis, Regina King, Charlize Theron, Adam Driver, Joanne Tucker, Cynthia Erivo, Scarlett Johansson, Natalie Portman and Kathy Bates, I don’t know what Kristen Wiig and Idina Menzel were thinking. Wiig always has a unique style so I have to admire that. ** The ratings were down. I have heard people saying they just don’t watch award shows or late night shows anymore because they are afraid things will get political. Funny, that is part of the reason I watch!

*****

Tom Papa was pontificating about a real dog show that should have REAL dogs. It would make a great weekly show with people bringing on their dogs.

*****

The goalies of the Hurricanes were out of commission and David Ayres, the Zamboni driver was brought in to help and the won against the Maple Leafs. Woo Hoo!!

*****

Hooray for New Hampshire and their use of paper ballots. Things in the campaign got a little shook up with Bernie taking the top followed by Pete and Amy.

*****

2 years of research in Canada has brought the announcement of a new discovery. Skull fragments that were cleaned and collected about 10 years ago have been named Thanatotheristes or the reaper of death. The discovery helps us all learn more about the early times of Tyrannosaurids, a sub group that includes T.Rex.

*****

New Jersey has a ban on self- serve pumps and another state is talking about getting in on the action. The gas station attendant act has been proposed in Illinois.

*****

Van Jones was right when he said we shouldn’t give Trump any press coverage for a week. He would hate it. Trump loves the old adage of bad publicity is better than none because he just must have attention. It would never work for they just can’t resist.** Joe Mcguire is out after he warned of Russian interference. If you want to keep your job in this administration, do not tell the truth. Now at the Department of National Intelligence is Johnny Mcentee , a 29 year old former football player who worked on the campaign. He immediately called department heads and said he wanted lists of never Trumpers in their offices. ** And who is in charge of weeding out the people in the government who may be disloyal to Scary Clown? Well, it is none other than Virginia Thomas, wife of Supreme Court justice Clarence. She calls it the list of snakes. Trump is now saying he even wants liberal judges on the Supreme Court to recuse themselves when it comes to “Trump related cases”. It just keeps getting worse.

*****

Trump had fun in India. He should, his business has 5 projects going there right now worth 1.5 billion.

*****

Harvey Weinstein was found guilty of rape and criminal sexual assault. He was not found guilty of all the charges that included predatory behavior.

*****

Andrew Yang is a new correspondent at CNN. He tells us that he is getting word from former donors that Bloomberg is calling those big donors. Allegedly he is telling them they do not have to donate to his campaign because he can afford his own campaign but he still won’t forget them. He would like them to save their money and not give money to other democrats running either.** And I am so sick of talking heads trying to tell us to play it safe. We are not as stupid as we look, thank you!! ** Now there is a firestorm about Bernie telling the world that the education program that Castro implemented was a good thing. I understand the anger and it could not have come at a worse time and he did it to himself. BUT.. We are adults and we have to be able to talk about things as they really are, not in sound bites. Castro sucked and history teaches us that bad people do good things occasionally and good people do bad things once in a while. ** It seems that everyone was in agreement that we would all gather behind the winner of the democratic campaign to beat Trump. Suddenly when it could be Bernie, everybody is bitching.

*****

This month held 2 more Democratic debates. The Nevada debate got pretty heated. I see that Mayor Pete and Bloomberg are lefties (left handed that is). Pete always looked poised and articulate which I appreciate and he got in a good one when he mentioned that the party should choose someone who is actually a democrat. Bernie seemed a little rattled by that. Later Pete really dressed down Amy Klobuchar and made himself look like a dick. Joe Biden jumped in with his credits occasionally but often seemed a bit lost. He slammed back that they were all talking about the health care plane he helped to create and that he himself had dealt with the Mexican President. His name came up after it was mentioned that Amy could not remember the President’s name. The gloves were off with Bloomberg as Elizabeth Warren called him out on Billionaires and NDA’s. I loved the interaction but realistically Mr. Mike can’t just release people from agreements they made in an NDA, especially if it did not involve him. Bloomberg sounded pompous and clueless about the world outside of his company. He got a moan when he said he couldn’t exactly use turbo tax and when he said he may have told a few jokes that women didn’t like. He brushed off his taxes much like Trump does. The former mayor of NY called out socialists as communists. Klobuchar had the best comeback of the night when she was told her health care plan could fit on a post it. She proclaimed that the post it was invented in her state of Minnesota. Again, there were people shouting from the audience as Joe tried to talk. C’mon give everybody an equal chance.

*****

The South Carolina debate was fiery as well. The CBS debate was hosted by Gayle King and Norah O’Donnell. Bloomberg was booed right off the bat about Russia helping Bernie but he late had many cheers. He and Biden and Steyer had some real support there. Tom Steyer was actually quite impressive and seemed well spoken. He was the only one who brought up the impeachment. He had a great point that we all know that republicans who did not convict Trump are complicit in the Russian meddling. Then he ruined it all by being alarmist with his fear. He warned us off the former republican and the socialists. I loved Bernie’s ideas about small business’s getting in on the marijuana business and not letting big corporations taking it over. He is also the only one in debates that I have seen consistently bring up Native Americans. Biden again kept jumping in to tell us that he did this or that. Amy disagreed about a bill he claimed to have written. Warren said “dig in” numerous times. She went for the jugular with Bloomberg when she said a former female employee of his said to “kill it” in response to her pregnancy. He denied it but it sure is memorable. She did make great points that he has given much money to Linsey Graham’s campaign as well as other republican runs including against her. BTW he also gave 2.3 mil to Rick Snyder, the Gov of Michigan after the water crisis was well known. I love that Amy is always saying that we shouldn’t fight amongst ourselves but she just does not have the votes so she needs to go. Bernie got some boos about guns for he seems the softest in that area.

*****

Joe Biden won the South Carolina primary in a big way.

*****

Dick Van Dyke, Sarah Silverman and Public Enemy among others will be at the Bernie Sanders rally in L.A. on March 1.

*****

Just think what the 400 million that Bloomberg spent on his campaign could have done for the debt of the average American. Instead of a campaign for a presidency that he can’t win, he could have helped so many get a leg up.

*****

I don’t understand why “respected” journalists like Chuck Todd don’t throw W H reps off the set when they disrespect him or his colleagues with fake news jabs.

*****

Bob Moore of Bob’s Red Mill is giving his company away to his employees. Now, that’s a boss!!

*****

Bone, Thugs and Harmony have made a deal with Buffalo Wild Wings to rename themselves Boneless thugs and Harmony. The publicity stunt is to promote boneless wings.

*****

NASA is hiring.

*****

Scotland has made feminine sanitary products free!!

*****

Is this true? There were pigeons in Nevada with MAGA hats glued to their heads??

*****

The final Criminal Minds has aired. CBS often aired double episodes which made it seem like they really wanted to get rid of it. Kirsten Vangsness and Erica Messer wrote the final episode which seemed to give special attention to Penelope and Reid as they were the originals. The other characters seemed a little overlooked but they all had happy endings. Where was Reid’s new girlfriend? I was hoping to see Shemar Moore but it was great to see Reisgraf and Howell which are old favorites.

*****

Animal Kingdom returns to TNT on May 28.

*****

So there is a bit of a mess with the Roger Stone sentencing. Trump is hopping mad about the long sentence recommendation, Barr is said to be pretending to spar with the Prez, the DOJ is backing down and people are resigning.

*****

R.I.P. Shirley Jean Cade, Robert Conrad, Katherine Johnson, Lyle Mays, B. Smith, A.E. Hotchner, Bashir Jackson, Ja’net Dubois, Pat Agee, victims of the Molson Coors shooting and Orson Bean.

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gesmenasell1980-blog · 5 years

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If a significant other or friend was treating you this way, those same people would probably tell you to get out of that situation. I am wishing you all the best. Living like that is hell on earth. TF Chocolate BarI have between 30 40 palettes, mostly high end/midrange, but also a lot of BH and (trigger warning) Morphe etc. I'm a working MUA, and "recovering" Makeup junkie, a lot of those purchases I justified with "oh I can use it for work!" But 99% of them end up in my personal collection untouched, because I use shadow singles in magnetic palettes on the job. I really only use my TF Chocolate Bar palette on myself when I even wear eyeshadow, and that's really just for salted caramel and white chocolate (v easily dupable). Now they should get over themselves and accept the fact that it doesn really mean anything but being a competitive playoff team, not some future championship squad. Celtics FO know this aint it without Kyrie at least, which is why they ready to trade people for someone to pair with him. Media keeps overrating the Celtics only because of Lebron, but never the Pacers who only had Oladipo.I mean 강릉출장마사지 some people are gonna just cut dry say that it was all made up by a jealous ex wife etc etc but that no less proven than the wife statement. 0 points submitted 3 months agoYeah, I mean, it whatever. On an ethical level she sent you the bill, so she doesn really care obviously. But that Dr almost certainly broke the law by telling you that. Ginseng: Their signature line that started in 2000. Their Ginseng cream is so popular it practically became legendary. The line had a total revamp in 2017 (revamp was completed in 2018 with addition of the new Ginseng serum) including packaging and formulation improvements. Usernames of non public figures (those who are NOT BGs, brand owners and reps, other influencers and social media personalities, or celebrities) must be obscured in screenshots. It all matte though, which is my jam, and while it a typical ish rainbow palette, you can also see a colour story with it. There enough varying tones of shades you can do single colour focused looks or go wild with colours. " n nWhile the industry's rabbits, mice or guinea pigs used in testing will now be spared, consumers are unlikely to notice immediate changes because products containing ingredients that were tested on animals before the ban can remain on the shelves. N nThe 강릉출장마사지 27 country bloc's executive arm, the European Commission, claimed the decision "is in line with what many European citizens believe firmly: that the development of cosmetics does not warrant animal testing. " n nThe EU has banned animal testing of finished cosmetic products since 2004. Do you really need Inquisitors hiding behind every corner for the 1st 30 seconds of the run? I come under attack from Inquisitors through the 1st door before I have even had a chance to pick my starting weapon. And enemies that hit for 50% of your HP or more, while removing the health fountains between certain biomes. Maybe this is what hard core gamers want, but I don find it fun.. Yeah. I had surgery at 16 for it. Life got way better. Laura Geller! Her little sets are always piled up at tj maxx and I know people enjoy that gilded whatever highlight but the vibe is so bleh. Nothing pulls me in about the brand. I never tried kat von d either because I found the packaging kinda clunky and cringy.

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hazbinextgeneration · 3 years

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Down The Rabbithole Ch14

The smell of roses lingered in the air as senses slowly came back to Allison. AH! See? She knew she was just dreaming this whole time she was dreaming. Chesire must've placed her on a bed when she suddenly fell asleep. It would certainly explain the soft thing he was laying on, must've been right? But what was with the giant, too heavy smell of roses everywhere? What the world was Chesire getting into? And why the heck was her head hurting so much?! It felt like she got run over twice by a train and then rolled down a giant hill, well wouldn't have been the first time she had gotten a headache from working a lot and going to bed sore. Maybe Chesire had an ice pack or something? Allison groaned and moved in the soft bed, moving her hands up to adjust on her elbows before pushing herself up to a sitting up position. Groaning and reaching up to rub her face. Oh gosh she still felt sore and tired. But thankfully her feet had stopped hurting and she felt less better now that she had been out for-......Hours? Allison had no idea. On instinct, she threw the red covers with rose and checker patterns off her and threw her feet off the bed-....It was only when she was done rubbing her face and blinked her eyes around did she freeze. ....This bedroom was NOT Chesire's tent. Allison looked around the room and gulped. A sinking feeling in her guts. This room was MASSIVE. It was as if someone slapped two and a half regular sized bedroom together, added a bathroom and closet, and then rented it out like that. The wall paper looked like it was painted by hand by a really famous artist and roses dotted all over the green walls. The ceiling a light blue with birds and beautiful clouds painted to It and a decent sized crystal chandelier. The floor was all covered with a checkerbourd carpet that looked soft if she stepped on it, and the canopy bed wasn't the only expensive piece of furniture in the large room. A giant polished wood table with carvings was sitting in the far right of the room and had a whole BUSH of roses on it, the bush inself was neatly trimmed into the shape of a heart. She wondered briefly if that was where the rose smell came from. An expensive looking LONG vanity was against the wall just in front of the bed and it was littered with what she guessed was make up. A kit with brushes of various sizes, lots of containers that glittered, or looked like lipstick or blush or rouge(she couldn't tell. Never was good with make up), and what she did recognize. A powder brush and old styled perfume bottles. The kind you'd squeeze a pump think to spray the perfume on you. What the world?!

It was then she remembered what had happened in her 'dream'. Singing roses. A cage being pulled by a horse down a path towards a giant castle on top of a tall hill. Her red eyes widened more remembering farther back. Chesire had-....Something threw a bowling, juggling pin at him and he fell to the ground. Something....Something had hit the back of her head and she- Panic and fear set in as her eyes wondered around the room more. Realizing that she had basically been kidnapped by someone. A castle. Men in gleaming armor. Who would have a reason for kidnapping her?....And what usually ruled a castle?....A Queen. Allison abruptly stood from the bed and jumped when something clattered to her feet. Falling back into her sitting position on the bed. ...She blinked seeing it was just that tacky red umbrella she seemed to be stuck with. She slowly bent down to pick it up, and mid way leaning back up she paused again. Staring right into the mirror and red eyes blinking back to her. Subconciously, she stood from the bed she had been laying on and approached her reflection. It stared right back at her and blinked it's red eyes. Those...Those weren't her eyes. Her eyes were a reddish brown and was just a bit red near the bottem, but she thought that was normal....These eyes were just a wee bit back near the top of her pupils and faded into a deep red everywhere else....What was-

CREAK!!

She ended up yelping and jumping around gripping the umbrella...And was met face to face with the most BEAUTIFUL woman she had ever seen. If it weren't for the fact that the whites of her eyes were a deep red, and her pupils was literally white floating hearts amongst the red, she would've easily passed as human. The woman was taller than her definitely, around six foot. Her body was fit and slim and the glittery, featherly outfit accented her perfectly. Her long bright red hair was pulled up in some kind of fancy do, and her make up was neatly done of course. And her face was also slightly glittery. It looked as if she had just stepped out from a ballet performance or something. She regarded Allison with a calm, almost slightly bored/irritated face, before closing the door calmly behind her and walked over towards the vanity. She immediately stumbled back and watched as the taller lady pulled out the chair and sat in front of the mirror looking at herself. Not even looking at Allison in the reflection.

"I was wondering if you would sleep forever," She spoke without looking away from her own reflection. The woman reached over and pulled a tissue from the box of tissues next to her and reached up to run it across her cheeks. Immediately the glittery make up started to come off revealing the pale, flawless skin of the woman underneath it. Even her voice was lovely, it was smooth and held no harsh emotion despite her face. "I apologize if my men caused you any trouble. I asked them to bring you to me unharmed, but I guess knocking you unconscious didn't count."

She scowled and before she could think pointed at her and blurted out, "Your 'men' hurt my friend!"

The lady hummed, wiping her eye lids free of the dark eye shadow applied to it. "And who might that be? If they're hurt perhaps I could help."

"Chesire, that's who!" The woman then paused what she was doing, and those eyes flicked over to her scowling reflection. She was still pointing at her as a sudden realization came over her and she got madder. "You're that Queen everyone's told me about! Chesire told me you'd be up to no good!"

....Silently the taller woman turned around and gave Allison her own calm, half make uped slight scowl. She regarded her silently for a moment, before sighing through her nose. "Perhaps I came off on the wrong foot. I assure you I mean you no harm, but now perhaps I may have a new problem to face."

"What are you talking about!?" She was confused, sore, but most of all angry. Angry she had to run around all willy nilly for just one break home. Angry someone wanted to capture her just because she was human. ...Angry because all this time Chesire had been tiring himself out trying to get here to help HER and then this woman had the nerve to have men go out and hurt him just to get to her! She growled and pointed again and without thinking let all her frustrations out. Screw it! If she was going down then fine! She had a rough life anyway and she had hurt the one good person left in it. "You listen here you- ..you-....Cold hearted, heart breaking witch!" The queen blinked, obviously not expecting that comment out of the timid looking human. She had been so easily captured, she didn't think she had a tongue like this. "I crash landed her BY ACCIDENT, which hurt because those giant mushrooms aren't as soft as they look! I'm talking to mice in dresses, clowns, pink rabbits, wizards, a girl with two heads and I have been following their instrustions EVERYWHERE JUST TO GET HOME!! First I had to find a literal fork in the road, then Enchanted Vil where I almost got hit by flying beer, then a magic mothman inside the fog, and then Im told to follow a bug all night through the woods to find a tent! Then I FINALLY find someone I can trust, and Im sore and tired and hungry!! Then the next thing I know some one attacks my friend, hits me over the head, and then I hallucinate I'm in a cage with singing flowers, only it wasn't a dream and now Im here and I don't know if my friend's hurt. And I never did A. SINGLE! FUCKING!! THING!! TO YOU OR ANYONE ELSE!!" She heaved as she ended her angry rant still scowling at the silent surprised looking woman and she still pointed. "And now you have the nerve to apologize to me after I was scared you'd capture me and Chesire might be hurt!? Screw you! I had it with my life up to now so if you're going to off my head or ban me then do it now and get it over with!!"

There was silence as Allison finally stopped her ranting and both women just stared at each other for a long moment. Before the taller lady's shocked face slowly, contorted back to her bored scowl and half lidded eyes.

"I still see his opinion of me hasn't changed." Allison rose a brow in question and the Queen sighed, turning back to the mirror and proceeding to wipe her face. "I'm afraid my family and his have....butted heads a few times."

"Your family wiped out his entire kind sixteen years ago." The queen once again paused. "Why WOULDN'T anyone judge you for that?"

...."You already heard about that. Not too surprising." She finished wiping her face which left her fair skinned face blank before looking over her shoulder at him. "It's true, my parents did do that. I can't try to hide that fact, but don't you think it's unfair to judge me for something they had done when I was a mere child? Wasn't there things YOU couldn't control that affected you as a child?" Allison immediately stopped. Staring at the queen like she had just read her mind and made it into a book, then read it outload to her. The queen hummed at Allison's look. "You're right, I shouldn't NOT expect anyone to judge me for it, but that doesn't mean I have to follow in their footsteps now do I? But now I wonder. Did this friend tell YOU what he had done?"

She had been quiet for a while. Honestly still so confused. But-...No. She guess she couldn't judge her based on what her parents had done. No one could judge her granny for how she grew up, Allison was taken from her care. As bad as her aunt was with showing her favoritism towards her cousins and not helping her out ever, she didn't compare to horrendous tranical rulers and...And didn't the Twiddle Sisters say something about her being better than the previous rulers?...But still, she banned and fought people for no reason! She sent her men and they possibly hurt her friend and kidnapped her! She may still be thrown into a dungeon or something! She wasn't bad, but she wasn't the greatest either.

"No. It isn't fair to judge you by their mistakes, but that doesn't mean I can't judge you by yours! You hurt my friend, you scare people with your stupid fights, and you kidnapped me! You're literally doing all these things for no reason and it's wrong!"

Her slight scowl became more irritated. "Do YOU know how to rule a kingdom? Have you ever ran one?"

"No. But I know enough that banning someone just because I was jealous of their singing skills." The Queen's eyes blinked wide in shock from the closet and Allison crossed her arms. "And I know enough to talk things out instead of challenging a defenseless woman...Women?? To a fight they couldn't win and punish them for it. If you want to be a better person then maybe you should try not jumping to conclusions-"

The Queen's hand slapped down on the vanity moving everything and looking to her fully with an obvious angry face. "You know nothing about why I did it! I had to do it! For his safety!"

"Who's safety?!" The queen immediately stopped. Looking almost horrified as she did so but Allison scowled again. "If you claim to ban two innocent women for someone's safety, then you better be ready to convince me. You hurt my friend, so I'm not a big believer on your safety measures." Instead of answering, she immediately faced away from Allison and looked back down to her lap silently. Making the strawberry blonde human raise a brow...before groaning and throwing her arms out. "Look. I don't care if you have your reasons, but at least tell me why? Why am I here? If you're gonna ban them, then how can I trust what you say if you can't tell me anything?.....You don't have to say his name or anything. Just give me a reason to give you even a bit of my time."

The Queen really didn't change from her position and remained sile- "You really want to know why?" She finally looked up from her sitting position and looked at Allison through the mirror's reflection. "It's because they knew the truth of where my beloved was. I couldn't risk him getting discovered like that, and strangers leading him away from me. He likes his privacy."

Allison confused to stare at the closet door confused for a moment. Who could the Twiddle Sisters possibly know that- Allison's eyes widened in realization, and stared at her in disbelief. "You mean the fortune telling guy?" The queen looked away again with red rising to his cheeks. "Wait. You and HIM are a thing?"

"Not yet. He still believes I have something to learn before be agrees to be by my side. He's usually right about these things," She stood up and went over to the closet. Opening the door before disappearing from sight. "Apparently I need to rethink about how I do things, and I have."

"But what does this have to do with me? I never did anything to anyone."

".....A lot of my citizens still view outsiders as people who are a danger and expect some kind of measure to be taken. And I can't just leave them feeling afraid and like I didn't do anything to protect them."

"Well, what ARE you going to do?"

. "Simple. In one hour I intend to 'confront' this danger head on. We shall have a battle like all the others and if you win, you win the right to go home. That's what you want isn't it?" Allison fell quiet and she hummed. "And if you lose, you'll be 'reformed' and be banned to live out your days here. A 'reformed' human just might be what my kingdom needs to stop feeling scared. I take measures to help my citizens slowly. You see? Where you see unfairness, I see ways to repair my family's damage without rolling them into a boulder doing so. I banned a woman who could reveal the location of my betrothed who doesn't want to be found. I give fairer chances to my people and offer labor or exile as punishment than imprisonment or death.....I am the ruler my parents weren't. Even if no one sees it or understands now. Everything will fall into place, after all. There is ONE rules we fallow here. Never judge a storybook by it's cover. Now I do wonder so badly, did anyone tell you about what your beloved Chesire did?"

Allison gave her a look like someone had asked her to solve the mystery of life. "What do you mean? He's been nothing but kind to me. He saved my life and.....and he's honestly all the good I have left in my life. ..What did he do to you that could've been worse than what your parents and your men did to him? Everyone seemed to like him."

The queen soon exited the closet, red hair flowing down her shoulders and outfit now similar to a ringleader of a circus. "....As revenge for what my parents did to his, he returned stronger than before and turned them to ashes for their crimes." She watched Allison's face turn to one of shock and chuckled, smiling. "Oh, don't act so surprised. I was expecting it from the start something like that would happen. I should really thank him really. Without his help I wouldn't be Queen right now and trying to fix everything, and my parents would've most likely killed you on sight with no questions asked. Of course that meant mixed feelings. Some view him as a savior for his actions, some view him as a danger. But barely anyone approaches him for it."

Allison still looked off at nothing in disbelief. Chesire.....turned someone into dust?! Why didn't he tell her? "H-How-"

"Magic." Something slapped her other hand and Allison blinked at a black baton with some giant ruby at the end shaped into a heart. " We both poses great power passed down from our ancestors. Each of the generations more stronger than the last, which is why I rule without question. And why he was able to perform such feats. He's a dangerous person to cross and shouldn't be trifaled with."

"....." She shook her head. "W-W-Why didn't he tell me?!"

"We all have our reasons. You got angry you can't get home. I do what I do to fix my past. Perhaps he did it to keep a friend?...You two ARE friends aren't you?"

Of course they were. He waited patiently for her. Fed her. Helped her work around the house. And he spent all that energy just to come try to help her. He wouldn't NOT do that if they weren't friends. And because of her he got hurt. Guilt bubbled up in the back of her mind again, but something else also rumbled out. She looked down almost embarrassed as her stomach rumbled and the Queen rose a brow...Before making her way over to the door and opening it.

"I'll have one of my maids bring you some food. In one hour our performance shall take place. I'm expecting someone important coming, so make yourself look presentable, my things are at your disposal....Human?" Allison jumped and looked up at her. "I-...never got your name."

"Uh-..A-Allison. It's Allison. Uh. W-What's your name?"

The Queen of Hearts regarded her for another moment before closing the door behind her. "Velveteen."

The door closed and as soon as it did Allison's mind finally began to panic with questions. She was gonna have to fight the QUEEN!? Who had MAGIC?! What was she gonna do?! If she didn't win she'd be forced to spend the rest of her life here...She guessed it wouldn't be so bad if everyone didn't already not like humans that much, but she wan't ready for that kind of thing and what would the point of her whole journey be then if she just gave up now! She immediately went over to the one window in the room...but any hope of escaping out of there was squealched when she saw how HIGH she was in the castle. Now that she got a good look, she saw the backyward of the castle so to speak. It had lots of beautiful flowers and a giant fountain spouting water out. And behind that was a giant maze made of bushes. Guess she found out what the green walls were. Allison shook her head and headed to the door, opening it and going to quickly step out- But jumped out when two spears suddenly crossed over each in front of her and she blinked when two tall men in gleaming armor leaned over to peer down at her.

"Sorry, Ma'am. Her Highness says you're to remain here until she sends for you."

She backed away as one of them reached back in and closed the door right in front of her and she was left staring at the door for a few silent moments, before aimlessly looking around the room. What was she going to do now?

***************************************************************************************************************

The blue cat groaned but wasted no time pushing himself up off the floor and sitting down on his behind. He remained in that pose for a moment before reaching his tiny paws up to rub at his face and hiss at the obvious bruise under his fur. Without even getting up from his current position his head tilted slightly to his left where a juggler's pin was laying down- Immediately he jumped into the air and snapped his fingers. The hat and staff that had been on the floor flew up to retake their positions on his head and in his hands as his head and eyes snapped around the room around him.

"ALLISON?!"

There was no human girl anywhere but something else sure was. His worried eyes locked onto it almost immediately and slowly floated over to it. The door by the pins-.....Behind it was a giant hole in the tent's hallway's fabric. In fact there was another one after that and another, until there was a very obvious few holes where someone obvious cut straight through his maze to get to them. Usually the tent couldn't be destroyed but he guessed the magic he used to make it so wasn't enough at the time. His worried frown slowly turned to just a thin small line on his usual smiling face as he started to fly through the holes. A tearing noise sounded behind him as the holes began to magically repair themselves one by one as he passed through them. Until he got to the last one. The tent all repaired behind him as he looked around, not seeing anyone in this giant field of him...Before those half lidded eyes looked down and the floating cat paused at the sight of footsteps. Heavy bootprints sank into the ground and their was a decent amount. Maybe four of five men based off the size of them, and horse shoe prints too. As well as two straight lines which he assumed were the tires of whoever was pulling the cart along. He stared at them for a moment before slowly following the path they made with his eyes,....and a grin devoid of any happy emotion spread over his face showing his fangs, his eyes slanted and narrowed, his ears pinned back against his head as he chuckled without happiness.

"Well, well, well.~ It seems someone wants to play a game of cat and mouse.~ They got the cat and they're the mouse.~ Hmhmhm." A crackling sound appeared and his tail shook violently before snapping off his body only attactched by a few beadlike strand attatched to his lower back. More crackling sounded as his tail shook more and broke off into three segmented pieces, rings of blue energy vibrated off them like energized halos as he smiled. "Well then kidnappers of Allison Gale.~ Ready or not. Here I come.~"

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canemnecredite · 6 years

Text

nightglass.

date: 24 december 2017, approx. 11:00 pm location: the middle of some fucking wolf-infested woods parties: adriana caninii & jackson karavadra

synopsis: Adriana drags Jax out into the woods in the middle of the night to murder him (jk not really-- OR DOES SHE??). Nah, she doesn’t lol. Enjoy some backdated Christmas Eve fluff in the midst of all this death.

@avadakaravadra

“You ready?” Adriana turned to Jax as the door to her side opened and the son of Discordia stepped out. The Christmas Eve Gala had ended nearly an hour ago now. The guests and performers had all gone, leaving the staff to handle whatever needed cleaning. She had lent Jax some of Renzo’s clothes. It was attire appropriate for hiking in the cold. This time, Adriana wasn’t going out at the risk of freezing. Most likely, anyway. “Here, take this as well,” he was handed a gladius that had been pulled from the family armory. “We’re headed about a mile outside of camp, so keep that handy.” The daughter of Mars pulled on the ends of her scarf to tighten it around her neck before she headed in the direction of the exterior gardens. They could slip down to the lake from there, then trek around the body of water onwards toward the distant woods. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Adriana smirked. “Not nervous, are you?”

For Jax, it had been a bit tricky to convince everyone to leave him at the Caninii’s house. Nearly everyone had questioned his motives for sticking around, and he’d given them all similar implications to get them to leave him alone. Now, as he stood in Renzo’s clothes, he shifted a bit uncomfortably, not quite liking the feeling of wearing something that wasn’t his. “Ready,” he repeated, arms thrown wide to show the clothes. Jax hefted the sword in his hand, testing its weight. Then he was following after Adriana, and sending her a rather curious look. “Nervous? No. Just concerned whether or not your idea of a present would be taking me out to middle of nowhere and trying to murder me.”

“If I intended to murder you, I wouldn’t have handed you a weapon,” Adriana stated rather matter-of-factly. No, her intent was far from murderous. There was considerable danger, of course: monsters, carnivorous wildlife, simply trekking around in a remote stretch of Californian forest in the black of night… But they were individually more than adept at protecting themselves, and having one another’s back was basic military programming. As they slipped down to the lakeside, Adriana peered across the water’s glossy surface, measuring the brightness of the moon. It was waxing, but the crescent hanging above them only represented a third of the moon’s light. Enough to lead the way, though the details would not be as clear as she liked. The silver light that filtered through her eyes caused them to appear almost as if they were glowing, the green enhanced by the same effect. “And it’s not the middle of nowhere. Not to me, anyway. There are parts of it you might even recognize, but-- most people forget.”

“You never know. Maybe you want me to have the semblance of safety so you can really get me by surprise.” Perhaps joking about murdering one another wasn’t the most typical conversation for two people who were sleeping together... but it seemed to work for the two of them. It only made sense, seeing as they had similarly dark and shady pasts. Nevertheless, as they came upon the lake, Jax’s gaze instinctively turned towards the sky, searching for the stars he’d grown rather fond of over the years. Their reflections danced in the water, making for a rather lovely effect. Tonight, Canis Major was rather bright, and Jax couldn’t help but wonder at whether it was simply coincidence that he was in the presence of a Caninii. “Aren’t you a special snowflake,” he teased, though he was genuinely curious about where it was she was leading him. The strength of the moonlight didn’t much matter to Jax, as his practically perfect night vision courtesy of Nox helped him avoid any rocks that might try to trip him along the way... as well as anything more sinister. Though he supposed it did bathe Adriana in a rather flattering light.

“Maybe. Not that I’d inform you either way.” Adriana rather liked their morbid sense of humor. True, it would have been odd for most, but it was the darkest elements of their natures that had bonded the pair of them together as confidants, and teasing that reality was both a reminder of the very fact and a slight balm to the sins that might have otherwise haunted their conscience. While the atmosphere was beautiful, she wasn’t paying it the admiration that she normally would. They had a place to be, and Adriana wanted to get there well before the rise of the sun. “Special is a matter of perspective,” she shrugged and picked up her pace as they neared the opposite bank of the lake. “Now keep up, will you? We’ve got a ways to go yet.”

In the twenty or so minutes later that Adriana and Jax had reached the camp’s border, she paused to turn around and regard him. “You trust me?” Her eyes searched his for an answer, but honestly, she already knew it without having to seek for it. Asking merely reinforced her confidence. “Stay close. Keep your senses open. There’s a lot of activity in these woods at night. A single lapse in guard could get you killed.” A grin flashed at him. “Personally, I think it adds to the thrill.”

“I would hope not. You’d have me questioning your abilities in a heartbeat.” Jax continued after Adriana, his steps making only the slightest of sounds, his movements nearly completely silent as he continued onwards. Such was another added perk of being a descendant of the night, he was nearly undetectable during it. He was once again tempted to look towards the sky, as he always was when beneath the shining stars, but he knew this not to be the time as dangers were becoming more and more of a threat as they neared the camp border. “You do realize I was making fun of you, right?” For a moment, Adriana’s question threw him. It was always a shock to remember exactly how much he trusted the daughter of Mars when trust hadn’t been the most prominent sentiment in his life. Not when Jefferson had taught his children that danger was lurking behind every smile, including his own. It was a fact that Adriana was only below his siblings in trust... though Cat’s had been rickety as of late. “Would I be here if I didn’t trust you?”

His words had been sincere and meaningful, but his tone quickly turned to annoyed as Adriana spoke her warning. “Please tell me you haven’t gotten amnesia and suddenly think I’m some probatio that’s never been in the forest before, or held a sword in their life. Don’t insult me to imply that I’m anything less than constantly aware. Save that for your Legionnaires.” But his features softened in the slightest as her smile shined once more. It was becoming quite a problem the effect such a sight had on him.

Trust was an odd phenomena. For most individuals, it took years to build; but, for a rare few, it could be determined within moments of meeting a person, an instantaneous sense that went far deeper than logic. Adriana could have said that her trust in Jax had stemmed from a near lifetime of familiarity-- which was true, though not the source of her faith in him. He had been one of the few. They had met so young, and yet, she had always felt, for some inexplicable reason, that he was worth sticking to. So when he answered in the way that he did, that his presence would be ridiculous if he didn't trust her, she couldn't keep the little smile off of her face.

His defense against her warning coaxed the slightest chortle from her, with a teasing smirk to match. "Ooh, are you sure? Because it's my recollection that thus far, every instance of our newfound activities was at least in part triggered by my insults toward you." Slowly, she backed up past the treeline, her smirk growing in a taunting manner. The activity she was hinting at wasn't remotely her intention for dragging him all the way out here, but it could be fun, couldn't it? Just frustrating him with the thought. It was a powerful new angle of trickery that she was all too ready to explore. "Unless you've already changed your mind, but something tells me that's not the case." Her fingers dropped to drum on the pommel of the sword at her hip, a restless quirk that spoke of her alertness as she continued to move backwards into the shadows.

Jax couldn’t very well remember a time when he hadn’t known Adriana. Their meeting had been young, and she had simply been a staple of his growing up as well as life. Perhaps that had been why it’d hit him so hard when she’d refused to complete her Cult task, resulting in her being banned from their shared underground organization. Suddenly he’d been seeing much less of her, and it quickly became apparent that he didn’t enjoy such an arrangement. Her smile garnered one of his in return, yet another thing that was becoming the usual between them.

“Newfound activities? Is that what we’re calling it?” he said with amusement. “You make us sound like a summer camp or something. Last time I checked, fucking like rabbits wasn’t an approved camp activity.” Had she brought him out here just to screw him under the night sky? To be honest, he wouldn’t be disappointed in the least with such a thing. But she’d already said at the party that such a reason wasn’t her true one for bringing him out here. Though... there was a part of him that was wondering how negotiable that term was. The shadows of the forest already seemed to be reaching for Jax, wanting to be joined with one who stemmed from a, quite literally, dark heritage. Who was he to deny them and Adriana? “But by your logic, that means that I’m supposed to jump your bones now, doesn’t it?” He made a playful dash towards Adriana, as if trying to catch her.

"And since when have we really followed the rules?" A smirk plastered itself on Adri's face as she waited for Jax to join her, but there was one little thing stuck on her mind-- more of a word, actually. Us. Sure, in mention of their relationship as friends, co-centurions, or merely in general, that word was nothing special. However, their relationship was much different now, and Adriana had to wonder if the context of 'us' had changed with it. His dash had come at the perfect time.

In alignment with her childhood moniker, Adriana took to the forest like a young deer. All demigods possessed a faster, stronger nature than your average mortal, but the children of Mars were made to be warriors -- stronger, quicker, swifter -- the latter an edge in which Adriana was particularly gifted. Jax may have had the advantage in sight, but she was light on her feet and she knew her way along these paths as well as the halls of her own home. She let the rush of the run wash over her, let her thoughts fade as muscle memory took hold. Whether or not Jax recognized their surroundings, these were the trails frequented by Lupa's pack. Adriana had used them many times, often alongside the wolves when she wasn't fleeing from them in a drill. As the Fates would have it, a howl broke out in the distance, then a chorus of them, and as the silver light of the moon lit the way, she flashed a grin to herself.

"Remember these woods at all?" She called back at him with playful curiosity, her pace unwavering. "Lupa loves to run her pupils here. Most of them never returned, understandably. But-- I rather like it. There's quite a few attractions out here that you wouldn't expect."

The connotations of such a weighted word had flown entirely over Jax’s head, as he’d only been speaking the way he always did with Adriana. Candidly. She was the single person he was most free to speak with however he might like. Though his siblings were, of course, another two he trusted most in the world— it wasn’t entirely the same. With them, he had to think about his responsibility to them, his responsibility to the family. And things had only grown more complicated as of late, what with Leo’s support of the Greeks and Cat’s past poisoning. He hadn’t been able to voice his mind as easily as he wished he could, but the exception had always been Adriana. She’d seen almost all the parts of him, understood better than most what it was to be in a family such as the ones they’d been born into, and yet she’d never made him feel as if he needed to be anything more than who he was. When almost all of his life had been spent trying to live up to others’ expectations, Adriana’s company was refreshing, somewhat of an oasis in the midst of it.

And as he sprinted after her deeper into the woods, he found himself wishing his distant Mercury heritage was a bit closer to the bottom of the family tree. Perhaps then he’d be able to overtake her after her bit of a head start. But as howls filled the air, Jax could barely believe his ears. Instantly, he was transported back to a simpler time. Certainly, some might not look back on their days with Lupa fondly, and easy was certainly not a word that should be applied to them, but Jax hadn’t minded his time with the she-wolf’s pack. Having waited an entire two years alone at home, without Cat or Leo to keep him company after they’d gone on to join the Legion hadn’t been the most happy of days, as was to be expected when one was the sole child in the house of someone who demanded utter perfection. He’d been placed under the microscope that was Jefferson, and been determinedly taught exactly what was expected of him, day after day, month after month. In addition, he’d lost the only people who’d been there to bear their father with him. Cat and Leo.

“Of course I remember them!” he called out, as memories of sprinting through them either for survival or leisure came rushing towards his mind’s eye. For a moment he felt the same as he had then. Not happy, but content, an improvement from what he’d been without Cat and Leo in his father’s home. Though Lupa hadn’t been kind, she hadn’t been cruel, simply practical. And the she-wolf’s rules had been much less convoluted and easier to follow than Jefferson’s, rules of fighting and survival rather than the mind games the Karavadra patriarch was so fond of playing. And for the first time since Cat and Leo had left, he’d truly felt a part of something. Perhaps something should be said for having preferred a wolf’s den rather than his father’s home at the time, but he didn’t think on it. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was somewhat of a reunion. He was one of those that hadn’t returned, but that was simply because he hadn’t seen the point in trying to go back to something that should be left in the past if he wanted to make something of the future, as well as knowing that even if he had made an attempt to frequent the forest things could never be truly as they’d been, though with Adriana running just in front of him— it felt as similar as he imagined it could have. After all, were they not in a way part of a pack? They ran in such similar circles, and paired with his trust and comfort with her— it’d only make sense to feel such a similar sensation of camaraderie with her to that of when he’d been with Lupa. “So are we following the rules tonight?” he queried in her direction, his long legs still propelling him at an impressive speed after her.

Lupa was a staple in the life of every legionnaire. No one made it into the ranks of the Legion without first passing her trials-- ruthless ones, often. Adriana did not doubt that Jax remembered his time with Lupa; his memory of the woods, however, she had felt it necessary to question. He remembered them. But did he remember them or did he know them? Though she couldn't say for sure, Adriana had a feeling that Jax hadn't been back here since he had been welcomed into Camp. He was a practical person, and a practical person would have no reason to come wander about a wood where wolves and monsters roamed freely.

Certainly then, that said something about Adri. Whether it was her descendancy from Luna, her uniquely familiar relationship with canines-- even as a child --or another instinct entirely, some natural force within her had drawn her back to this place time and time again. Lupa and her pack had been everything Adriana had ever wanted at the formative age of eleven. A family. One that continued to challenge her growth as a warrior yet allowed her to roam freely and explore her place and identity in their world, rather than confining her to strict expectations and future roles. Lupa was by no means cuddly, but the daughter of Mars was convinced that she cared about the young ones who came to her house -- at least those who arrived with the intention of accepting her training. Lupa had raised Romulus and Remus, not only the founders of Rome, but Adriana's historical siblings. She had taken the girl as a young pup no differently than the rest of her pupils, and that inclusion had made her hesitant to leave the pack she had found.

She had a new pack now -- her cohort, her small circle of trusted friends and family. Though, none of those connections were as natural hers to Jax, what with all the dark secrets and lifelong familiarity they shared. "I don't know," she glanced back at him with a grin. "That depends on how soon we reach what we've come for." A bit of airy laughter tumbled from her throat. The moon was a good week from full, but bled just enough light through the canopy that Adriana's nocturnal vision had no issue watching for hazards in their path. She knew this route by heart, as untouched as it was; however, one couldn't trust the forest to remain clear and static. Thankfully, the few fallen trees and animal encounters caused them no issue, and within minutes, their destination was in sight.

Adriana came to a sudden stop at the edge of a cliff, extending an arm to catch Jax just in case he wasn't quite as prepared as she was. Down below, fed into by a small stream on either side, was a cave nestled around the bend from their current spot. "Alright, we're almost there," she turned to him with a well restrained shimmer of excitement in her eyes. "But, before we continue, I have one condition-- you have to keep your eyes shut. No peeking. Think you can handle that?"

They came up onto the edge of the cliff faster than expected, but Jax’s perfect night vision was more than enough for him to see the drop off that was fast approaching, and for a moment he had the ludicrous thought that Adriana might not stop. A brief flicker of panic went through him. Though he knew it ridiculous to think she might launch herself over the side without guarantee of a safe landing, he couldn’t help but be worried, not when she’d grown to mean so much to him. But then she stopped with her arm outstretched, and he too came to a halt just before her arm. The realization that he’d been ready to jump off the cliff after her startled him. Did he truly trust Adriana that much? Or had he been devising a way of trying to save her should her jump go wrong? The fact that he’d be so ready to run after her without a fully formed plan was… disturbing. He’d never been an impulsive person, but adding Adriana into the mix always seemed to throw him for a loop.

Nevertheless, his lips turned upwards into the beginnings of a smile as she turned towards him, the excitement in her eyes all too endearing. “I knew you brought me out here to kill me.” Was all he said before closing his eyes. He’d already proven he was foolish enough to trust Adriana entirely what with the cliff situation. “Just do me a favor and give me one last kiss before you push me over the edge. I deserve to have something sweet on my lips as I fall to my death.” he teased.

“Well, I didn’t think you would submit so easily,” Adriana teased in return, glad to play along. There was a long hum that passed through her lips, as if she was contemplating whether or not to grant him his kiss, but finally, because of his obedience to her order of shut eyes, she puffed out a sigh. “I suppose I can grant you your last wish, but only because you’ve been so compliant.” Stepping forward, she found his hand and held it, pressing down on it and up on her toes to plant a short, light kiss on his lips. It was broken by a faint giggle in advance of her pulling back, but despite their separation, she kept his hand firmly in her grasp. “There. Now keep those eyes shut or I’m really going to abandon you out in the cold to die.”

In no time at all, Adriana was leading him down a narrow path on the cliffside, guiding him over the small stream, and dragging him with her into the pitch blackness of the cave. Well-- not entirely pitch blackness. It took a few minutes’ descent through the tunnels before the pair stepped out into a great cavern. On either side of them, the two streams from outside fed into larger pools. The sound of trickling water echoed from there and the occasional drops from the stalactites above tapped upon the craggy ground. About twenty feet in front of them, a thin sliver of moonlight broke through the ground and cave roof above. This was the spot at which they paused. However, the real surprise remained concealed in the darkness, and it would be her instruction for Jax that truly revealed why she had chosen to take him out so far beyond the border.

“Alright,” Adriana dipped down to pick something up off the ground, opening his now formerly held hand to place the object there. It was roughly palm-sized, cold to the touch, smooth yet uneven, the edges sharp, though she was quick to warn him of that feature. “Don’t squeeze. These are wicked sharp and I would much prefer not having to stitch your hand in the wilderness.” Carefully, she moved around him and settled her hands on his shoulders, urging him forward a step. “On my word, extend your arm and open your eyes. Preferably in that order.” She was nervous now, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her mind flooded with questions of whether or not he’d appreciate it, if it was too trivial, or something he saw as nothing new, but it was too late to go back now. With a final release of breath, she peered around his side in preparation to observe his reaction. “Ready? Okay-- now.”

The completion of the action that she had given him placed the object in his palm just at the edge of the ray of moonlight. The face was already angled, and thus proved the perfect mirror to direct that light towards the darker cavern walls ahead of them. A scattered deposit of volcanic glass reflected the silver in a million tiny specks, transforming their surroundings into a radiant sea of stars that, although artificial, made it appear as if they stood at the center of a galaxy. Gently, she removed the shard of obsidian from his hand and set it in a little nook in the ground that she had fashioned to preserve the illusion and allow them the freedom of movement. “I know it’s not material,” she approached him with bashful, quick words on her tongue, “but I’ve been in awe of this place since the day that I found it, and I’ve never-- you’re the first person I’ve brought here. I usually come alone whenever I need to get away for awhile. So, I thought you might be able to make use of it as well.” Adriana fiddled with her fingers near her waist, swallowing in anticipation. “What do you think?”

Adriana’s hand was a welcome feeling in Jax’s and as she pressed a kiss to his lips, he was more than pleased that Adriana had indulged him. As always, part of him simply wanted to live in their kiss, create a home there where he and Adriana could stay for quite a while— away from the world and all its demands. But her kiss was fleeting, and a sigh of disappointment left him. A moment later, her giggle had him feeling the strongest urge to open his eyes. He wanted to see the smile that went with such a laugh. Instead he was obedient, somewhat pouting that he hadn’t gotten to see the grin he’d become so fond of. Still in a flirty and teasing mood he replied, “But I could never die of cold after your kiss just warmed me.” It was purposefully disgustingly cheesy, either designed to make her scoff or laugh… or both.

The walk most likely seemed longer than it should have with his eyes closed, though soon enough Adriana was speaking once more. He followed her directions carefully, his brow drawing together as he tried to discern what exactly it was that she’d handed him. It felt like some sort of rock, thought he couldn’t be sure as she’d warned him of its sharp edges. But then certainly it must be a rock? The entire thing was rather mysterious, and Jax was eager to open his eyes when Adriana gave the word. As he did so, he flinched slightly in shock as bright lights danced over his night-attuned vision. But then, as Adriana affixed the rock to its place, and his eyes adjusted to the light, a look of wonder came over him. As a young boy, he’d had dreams of being an astronaut, before duty and the words of Jefferson had banished such foolish thoughts from his mind. Only his family had known of his secret wish, and he couldn’t help but imagine this was what it might be like to actually be amongst the stars— his dream fulfilled. The fact that it was a private place for Adriana only made it all the more special, and his eyes flit to her, trailing the faux stars that were dancing across her features.

A large smile had worked its way across his features as he went to her, going to take her writhing hands in his own to calm them before trying to bring them to join behind his neck. “It’s— it’s beautiful.” Perhaps it was an overused word, but the word to best describe his own state was most appropriately… starstruck. He was rendered somewhat speechless in awe, a feat in itself, and he couldn’t help the warmth that seemed to be stemming from his heart as the realization of Adriana wanting to share this special place with him took hold. “And it’s perfect.”

From the look of wonderment on his face, Adriana presumed that her short expedition had proved an appropriate Christmas gift; but, it wasn’t until he came to take her hands that the wave of relief washed over her. Her hands secured themselves behind Jax’s neck and a smile, though smaller than his, lit up her features. “Perfect,” she reiterated, moving a half step closer to him. Like before, she stretched up on her toes to compliment the surprise with a gentle kiss. A few of her fingers slipped into his hair and remained there, scratching and curling harmlessly even when her feet rested flat on the ground once more.

“I’ve been coming here for years,” she told him in an almost whisper. “I was looking for a place to lay low during one of Lupa’s survival drills. I never expected to find anything like this.” For a few moments, her sight diverted to admire their surroundings in slightly greater detail. “This wasn’t the only thing drawing me back, though…” The last line slipped out as an afterthought, perhaps triggered subconsciously. However, with a blink and the dart of her eyes back to his, it was temporarily stowed away. Her smile returned. “So, what now?” She tilted her head as a curious glimmer flickered in the corners of her polychrome gaze. “It is your present. It’s only right I permit you to choose how the rest of your time here is spent.”

Jax wondered briefly if he’d ever get tired of Adriana’s lips on his own, but it seemed that the answer was continuously doubtful of such a thing happening. He hadn’t even had to ask for a kiss this time, apparently she’d known well enough that he wanted one, and he had been preparing to give her one himself, but she’d beat him to the draw. Not that he was complaining in the least. The hand in his hair was something that relaxed him tremendously, it being one of Jax’s favorite feelings in the world, and he responded by tracing the little constellations that were made by the moon and the rock on Adriana’s face with the pad of his thumb.

At her offer of him choosing their next activity, he could only guess that she’d be expecting something of the usual from him, along the lines of a rather risque and suggestive request. But he surprised himself as well when he instead loosened the arm around her waist ever so lightly, and went to shift one of her hands from the back of his neck to his shoulder before moving to take the other one into his own hand. “It seems like a lovely venue for a dance, don’t you think?” He said with a smile, remembering fondly how he’d asked her something similar when New Rome had, quite literally, been burning to the ground.

Adriana had always been a quick learner. Although she hadn’t been studying the subject consciously, she had adopted the instinct to press her lips to those of the man in front of her whenever the atmosphere was correct. Their intimacy was quickly becoming second nature to her, yet she wouldn’t dare recognize it. People like them weren’t supposed to get attached… but maybe if she told herself this was nothing, that rule wouldn’t matter. At least, not tonight.

The gentle brush of his thumb resulted in a smile, which subsequently completed their kiss. She followed the constellation he traced on her cheek for the short time it lasted, then lifted her eyes -- the green in them particularly striking against the silver light -- back to where they had been in anticipation of his response. Had she been expecting a risque answer from him? Perhaps. The request of a dance wasn’t entirely new; nevertheless, as he repositioned their stance, that smile of hers grew ever so slightly. She remembered the last time he’d asked for her hand. They had shared a moment of peace against a flaming horizon before she had tripped and fallen into him due to injury. It was about time she made up for that blunder. Her hand folded softly in acceptance of his own. “I do.” With a small step backward, she ushered the pair of them into motion. “But let’s hope I don’t lose my footing this time.”

#nightglass.#[ docs. ]#jax.#f&gwriting #[ moon & stars ]#[ xmas. ]

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themarginalthinker · 7 years

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The Three Barters of Marco Bodt

otherwise titled ‘Marco Bodt’s Canine Curse’. too campy for this story ehhhh

@bringobaggins this got longggg

in case any of you were wondering, this is totally based off of a silly little au I decided APPARENTLY DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH ANGST AAAAAAA so I wrote this for my friend in like,,,,an hour. :>

if any of ya’ll are wonder what I’m referring to, check out this and this right here. Essentially, Marco done messed up and now he’s cursed to be but a doggo forever but Jean’s kiss broke the curse somehow. this is his story.

He'd been one of the middle sons of a middle son. Their family was larger, and their parents never had much more then the very basics to keep them all afloat.

Then, in a crazy bet, his father won a small heard of sheep and the dog to heard them from a neighbor and their suddenly their family wasn't so bad off. But the dog wasn't well trained, and Marco wasn't good at controlling the animal, and in one fell swoop, a nasty accident, the dog misunderstood Marco's orders and drove all the sheep off a cliff to their deaths. The family was now...even poorer.

Marco thinks of this as his fault, and it eats at him for weeks until he comes up with a harebrained solution.

The witch that lives in the woods. It was risky...sometimes she helped, other times she hindered. And her prices were high, though not for want of gold and silver. She wanted...other things for her services.

The first time Marco went, he left a whole man, with an empty field over grown for lack of livestock. When he came back...he was half-blind, and the old, family-less farmer down the way had died and left all his land and animals for anyone who would have them.

And so began the three barters of Marco Bodt.

Marco is hesitating a little at the table now, playing with his fondue stick and the spread (which Jean has barely touched since Marco started talking) because he's not..sure how to continue. He knows his own past..but he's never had to tell it to someone before. Or even everything thats happened AFTER he was left to roam the world, alone and confused, wit no-one but other animals to talk to (who, as he's told Jean, don't make very good conversationalists.)

So, he tries to keep it simple. His parents were so worried about him - asking what had happened to his eye, why the place where it had been was not bleeding, concerned over their newfound good fortune of the ability to claim the dead farmer's land for their own now...but Marco doesn't admit anything he doesn't have to.

He keeps quiet, and goes back to tending the animals and watching over his younger siblings. Then, a few months later, disaster strikes for a second time. It's getting into the colder parts of fall, when there is little warmth in the sun, and the leaves of red and gold are losing their brilliance. Marco is working on fixing a hole in the fence where some of the cows got out before so they don't lose the rest of them before he goes looking for the ones who got lost, when he hears the screaming. As fast as he can, he abandons his work and runs into the woods, following the sounds of terror and - splashing?

It turns out it's one of the local boys - a small, frail, bookish boy by family name of Arlert. The village calls the family heretics since they don't often go to church, and collect a number of books most of the outlying counties had banned and forbidden the buying and selling of - Armin, the boy's, father is an inventor of sorts, making toys and gizmos for the children, and Marco sometimes catches his eye as he's selling his family's wares and wool in town.

They were something of friends, and as Marco sees, the old, old bridge that the smaller boy usually uses to cross the deep stream to get to Marco's house, has finally given out, the boards broken and sending whoever was walking across it into the icy depths of the water. Marco, of course, without thought for his own safety, immediately goes after him, jumping right into the deadly cold to save a boy who was really more of a Sunday acquaintance who Marco would never admit occupied his mind on more then one lonesome night...

Armin is small though, and even though Marco rushes the both of them home as fast as he can, there is little he can do to stop the dreadful blue creeping into the boy's fingers, the way he stopped shivering long minutes ago, and his eyes blinked closed. Marco is desperate, asking his mother if there is anything she can do to heal him, warm him up again.

There isn't, and Armin Arlert lies dead on Marco's bed.

So...that night, after the aggrieved parents of the well-read boy come and go in tears and confusion and the world around has taken on a new chill that Marco knows is nothing to do with the failing autumn....he goes into the woods again.

And answers the same question the witch asked before. What would you give me in return.

Some consider it a miracle of God that Armin Arlert was breathing by the time the sun peered over the horizon, sitting up with a blanket around his shoulders by noon, and back at home with his parents with no memory or scar of the day previous by that evening. Marco was not seen for two more days, though, and when he did return home...well.

Just the same, when his parents asked, Marco didn't tell. His mother never looked him in the eye after that though, and his younger brother was now asked to help out more around the farm when he father called for assistance and two good hands.

Jean is silent now as he watches Marco, who has stopped trying to eat and is looking glumly over the food. He speaks again after a long moment, but not to continue his story. Rather, he asks Jean quietly if they can go home, and Jean snaps out of his amazed stupor to agree and asks the waiter for their checks and a carryout box (because he knows, even upset, Marco hates the thought of wasting food.)

So they pack up and head home, Marco still quiet and Jean trying not to try and goad him into talking about his past more. It was an interesting story...but it was also real things that apparently happened to his...roommate? Boyfriend? Jean's own feelings are kinda conflicted. But he keeps his mouth shut, and waits for Marco to come to him.

And eventually, he does.

It's about a week later, when they're both watching television on the couch, and it's late enough even Jean the notorious night owl is sleepily considering heading to bed when Marco starts to speak up. Jean wonders if Marco knows Jean's awake, or if he thinks he's just talking to himself.

It was the dead of winter. Yule had passed, and with it the warmth of festivities and stored food, and now only the long wait those last few dreary months before spring arrived remained. People were hungry. Even Marco's family, as alright as they had been doing, were still going to be scraping the bottom of the barrel by spring.

So begins the last time Marco ever saw his...family.

The last time he ruffled Peter's hair as he left to check the snares they'd set in the woods, playfully bantered with his elder brother Simon about milking the cows later, and told Maggie to be a good girl for mother as she wasn't feeling well today. Maggie though, wanted to come. She was getting older, a strong eight years old as she liked to remind everyone who would listen, and Marco was one of the people who would indulge her when she asked to tag along, or be included in something fun - or at least, something less menial then household chores.

And while normally Marco would love to have her along...well....he was loathe to admit it, made his missing arm throb every time he remembered what he'd done...but the traps he'd set were closer to the witch's house then the bravest man on the land would find comfortable. The hunting was better there...and nothing bad had happened so far... but he didn't want Maggie coming along. It was still dangerous, and Marco had seen pawprints that didn't belong to any dogs that size around.

So he told her no. He told her to stay and look after mom and be a good girl. So, so stupid of him...

Marco went deep into the forest with his knife and game bag. The traps so far, all had something in them, and it made him happy to see. Grouse, rabbit, and hare, squirrels and even a deer had gotten it's leg trapped in one of the twitch lines. Marco let that one go, and watched it run off into the woods away from the man without a second thought. It was too big to butcher out here with...with only one hand, and besides, a whole deer and his parents might start asking questions again, about where his good hunting fortune had been leading him-

Marco never did like hearing screaming in the woods.

Especially when it was screaming he knew.

For the third time in his life, Marco was too late. The sheep, his friend...

Maggie had followed him, and, like the sneaky child most were when they didn't get their way, she'd made sure he didn't know she was there, and then, well, probably gotten lost in the woods when she'd lost sight of him. There was blood in the snow when he arrived, and a hooded figure standing at the top of a hill as two huge wolves, blacker then pitch on on moonless night ravage something at the bottom of the hill that makes Marco's insides numb and his phantom limb and missing eye scream.

He jumps in without thinking, much like his first barter, much like Armin's rescue. Ivory teeth tear his skin, and scythe claws nick bone, but still, his screams are not ones of fear of his own pain. They are ones of fear of the pain of the little girl who has stopped screaming and lies mangled in the snow.

He doesn't realize what he's done until the blow is delivered and one of the hellish wolf twins is blacking away with a whimper as it's shadow sister lies on the ground next to Maggie with a knife through it's eye, the blade sunk in until the hilt, dead.

Marco hesitates again, and Jean hardly dares breathe. Though it's his good eye, Jean can tell Marco is not seeing the tv in front of him when he speaks again. Marco's vision was red, his hand was red, the snow was turning into slush and staining his clothing red. There was the sounds of footsteps, and Marco cannot drag his eyes away from the too-quiet, too-still form of Maggie to look up at the hooded woman who now stands before him. His hand clutches at his sister's torn tunic, her little hand-made cloak and he can't seem to stop the ringing in his head, the pulsing of his own wounds not even a thought in his head.

When he hears her voice, it is not the question, that damnable question he has answered twice now, but her words still shatter his mind, reverberating not off of the trees around him in the white and scarlet forest, but in his own head.

You have taken something from me.

I have taken something from you as payment.

And now...you have taken yet again.

What will you give me in return.

Jean knows.

Thus completed the third barter of Marco Bodt.

#aot #snk #my writing #jeanmarco #au #cursed dog au #marco bodt #jean kirschstein

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