Happy 100 followers! I don’t know if you’re okay with writing myc or not but hear me out, afab reader and myc are having a long slow makeout session while his tentacles explores their body 😏🍄

(The fact this got sent in right around or seconds before I posted my other Myc celebration ask is hilarious)

You’re dragging your feet, making your way up the steps of the brownstone Myc owns, minutes away from work over in Alexandria and the equivalent of an oasis to you, a beacon of home and love and hot sex. You’re a simple person.

Unlocking the door and entering the house, popping the alarm system off then back on again while kicking off your shoes fades in a blur. Coat and bag get hung up and keys left in the catch-all dish near the door, your frame languid and dropped in malaise. Brains as fuzzy as a brand new carpet.

“Oh look, my favorite person!” Myc calls from the other room, seeing you enter the main living area from his cushy, oversized bean bag chair. “Fuck you look a mess - do I need to go get my machete back from Glenn?”

"no - wait, you gave him the machete?"

"yeah, and?" He feigns nonchalance, raising flagella in a come hither motion that brings you forth, waving you in like a siren to the sea and lulling you into the safety of his embrace, "he wanted it, better get it back though, I bought that shit brand new."

You make a noise of indignance, a brow raising at his words once he coils himself around you and pulls you closer to him to sit upon his lap and where he sits upon the beanbag chair. "You know you stole it."

"Damn right I did."

You let out a bark of a laugh, sudden and unexpected and get nudged by Myc teasingly who you shove back, nudging him with an elbow as he grunts, shoving you in return before tugging you in closer. Myc’s silent for a moment, a rarity, and rubs the surface of his orb against the top of your head before you break and speak.

"You ever seen a brand new machete?"

“No?”

“Okay see - that’s where I keep wondering if there’s just some secret pre-owned machete market.” You exclaim before his tendril-like flagella brush against your skin, rising at the spot where your shirt has ridden up, growing bashful even though it’s something so regular and frequent between the two of you it’s instinctual, wanting to be touching some part of one another at all times.

Even though he wouldn’t admit it, petulant fuck.

“You never see one clean or without like a decades worth of rust.”

“I don’t like the fact you’re right.” He says, stagnant voice making you giggle and prompting him to twine flagella and tendrils around you, sneaking up your shirt and across your belly. “You never do.” Is muttered into the base of his stalklike neck, breathier than intended but fun nonetheless as you feel him shudder around you and twitch.

“Like that, huh?” You murmur, placing a languid and lazy kiss against him and feeling him speak through, smirking against him. “You can fuck right off.”

“Invitation accepted.”

Your hands move to reposition yourself, Myc’s tendrils acquiescing and helping support your weight while you get settled, thighs around his base while flagella wrap around your arms and thighs, one curling around the slope of your neck. Arms wrap themselves around him on the underside of his orb, allowing you to curl up in his lap and feel him love on you while you get him flushed and literally glowing.

Dotting kisses about his body, you tease with little pecks and airy huffs that he bitches and complains at, still stripping you of your clothing all the while in the most stubborn manner, moaning through curses as you lick a stripe across his surface and chuckle against him, grinding down with a grin.

He can’t kiss back but he more than makes up for it in the way he squeezes and presses you, molding your body like softened polymer clay, baking you in the warmth blooming in your belly as Myc moves a tendril between your legs after you bite at him.

“Gotta’ play fair, doll.” Myc rolls, nudging your nose with a bump of his cap before he pulls your underwear aside and toys with you, getting your mouth open and gasping wetly against his skin. You mark him up with your teeth and soothe the sting with kisses and kitten licks, rocking back and forth against him and whining as he brushes sensitive, well memorized spots.

Pulling back, he takes you in and you’re dazed, pupils blown and face warm and absolutely downright horny. God he loves you.

“Myc,” You coo, trailing a palm up and down a tendril before pumping it in your fist, watching him groan and his orb shift, resembling a freshly shaken snow globe, “you know we never play fair.”

He slots a tendril in you and matches your pace and mocks your moan, mirroring it back in a whiny tone before he rubs the lip of his cap against your forehead, chuckling while he uses his flagella coiled around your waist to fuck himself with you, like a well-loved fleshlight.

“Don’t I know it - It’s so much more fun that way.”

Apologies (Part 2)

(Part 2 was asked for by @iheartmyselff ! Apologies (hehe) for the wait on this one, Stardew Valley has taken over my life.)

Muzan x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Platonic/Romantic

Summary: A few years had passed since you became a demon. You spend your days training and growing stronger, getting used to killing and eating humans and never touching sunlight again. Today however, you’re indulging in a favorite pastime.

Part 1 (contains CW/TW)

~~~~~~

The gentle, amber lights of the shopping district bathed you and Akaza in a warm glow. You had wanted to buy something without Muzan around, so you politely asked Akaza to accompany you. He said yes, of course, not wishing to displease you, and after a quick disguise of his more demonic features, he walked side by side with you into the night.

It wasn’t until you had purchased quite a bit of fabrics of different colors did Akaza think to ask you what you’d come for.

You smiled and playfully held a finger to your lips, an action so hauntingly familiar to Muzan’s, yet yours held an entirely different weight. Yours was lighter and softer, more of a playful shush than a demand of silence. “I’ll tell you, but only if you keep it a secret from Lord Muzan!”

Akaza’s eyebrows lifted, an expression of both apprehension and interest crossing his features. You told him about your hobby back when you were human, how you loved to sow and create delightful patterned kimonos and other fabrics. Your expression grew somber when you explained others around you would negate or dirty your work.

“But I still love to create those fabrics,” you continued, checking the colors you’d picked out already as you spoke, “and I wanted to create something nice for Lord Muzan as a thank-you for saving me from my dreadful human life.”

Akaza smiled gently at you then, absently wondering how something sweet and delicate like yourself could’ve been turned into a strong demon. You weren’t on par with any of the Upper Moons, perhaps not even a Lower Moon at that, but Akaza knew you would get there someday. You already showed promise of that.

“I’m sure Lord Muzan would love your gift. Do you have everything you need? I brought along extra money if it’s needed.”

It was your turn to smile up at him, your eyes glittering with warmth as your grin stretched wide across your face.

“Sometimes you’re too sweet to be as terrifying as you actually are, Akaza. But no, thank you, I believe I have everything.” You took a moment to adjust your grip on the basket of fabrics in your hands. “We can return.”

~~~

The minute you got back to the home Muzan had you stay in, you absconded to your room with your things, wanting to get right to work before Muzan could find you and ruin the surprise you had planned for him.

Your hands glided through each step of the process, the kimono beginning to form in shades of deep violet and black. As you worked, you couldn’t help but hope and pray your measurements were correct. You were too afraid to ask for Muzan’s measurements in fear he’d figure out what you were planning.

Still, if the measurements weren’t correct, you could always offer to fix them.

You didn’t hear your door slide open as you were making the final adjustments and folding the new clothing into a neat, presentable pile, nearly jumping a foot in the air when a voice sounded behind you.

“Are you hiding something from me? You’ve been avoiding me (Y/n).”

To your credit, you were quick to spin on your heels and give a respectful bow.

“Not at all Lord Muzan! I merely wished to create something for you and didn’t want the surprise to be ruined!”

It was quiet as he studied you, that piercing, red gaze of his settling a weight onto your shoulders. But only for a moment, as the weight lifted as his expression softened.

“A surprise? May I see what it is?”

You lifted your head and nodded with a smile, turning around as Muzan welcomed himself further into your room.

“I do hope the measurements are correct. If not, tell me and I can easily fix them!”

You wonder if you were ever the first to see genuine surprise on the Demon Lord’s face, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as you presented the kimono to him.

“You made this?” He asked, carefully unfolding the fabric to examine it in full.

“I did. Fabric making has always been a fun hobby for me. And again, apologies for not telling you, I really did wish to surprise you.”

Muzan’s face melted into a smile as he carefully folded the kimono again, holding it close to him. “Thank you (Y/n), I quite like the colors you picked.”

“You do?” You couldn’t hold in your happiness at this point, your joy shining through and breaking your formality. “Oh I’m so glad! I’ll happily make you anything else you’d like!”

“I look forward to it.” Muzan hummed, turning to exit your room with his usual grace.

~~~

You were in your room, sketching out a new design idea that had popped into your head before bed when you felt Muzan’s presence behind you. You didn’t have time to turn and acknowledge him when he sat next to you, the new kimono you made for him fitting his form near perfectly.

Wordlessly, he held out his hand, and you wasted no time in giving him yours, palm up as you’d been instructed to a few times before. He smiled warmly, leaning forward to kiss the backs of your fingers as his free hand dripped drops of his blood into your awaiting palm.

You weren’t sure if this was a thanks or a reward for the kimono, but you definitely weren’t passing up the rare chance of Muzan sharing his blood.

"Please, share with me your memories…"

Day 24 Memory.

It's the mermay story I didn't get around to that takes place a long time ago.

The story of someone who found some hope in a small human...

TW: lots of death mentions. Blood, uhhh sharp object/knives, uhhh idk what else

"Please, share with me your memories…"

I was happy to return to a life of solitude when I took my place. Happy to continue without the loud voices of the ones I started my life with. Relieved to be free of the cruelty of the one who I replaced. It would be a safe peaceful life. At least I had hoped it would be peaceful. I got my wish for years, then I heard your voice for the first time since I accepted my role.

Save them, your words echoed through my very being. I sighed, I didn’t want to save anyone, but I was your voice. Your connection. I couldn’t deny you.

“Save who?” I asked. I pushed myself off the rocks I slept on. A comfortable place where my tail safely blocked the cave with my charges. The stones I had to protect.

A human. Their vessel has been destroyed. I will guide your hand. Save them.

“How? We both know I can’t leave.” The request was a demand to me. I was your avatar. I had to do as you asked, but I was trapped because I belonged to you. I could never leave, you and the one before me told me that. Now you were telling me to save someone that could never be within the circle of rocks hiding me.

Reach over the rocks above the surface. I will guide your hand with my currents. The winds will blow to help you find the right direction. Please! Save them.

“As you request.” I knew you hated when I called them demands. You’d done it before, demanding something in the form of a request. It was when I asked you about the one before me, why he suddenly offered his name. A request not to ask about it, a demand in disguise.

I traced my hand up the rocks before I broke through to the surface. I hated it when I was up there. At least in the waters the currents could guide me, I knew what was around me. In the air I was truly blind, it was too much of a risk when others like me were so ready to kill me. I couldn’t avoid it when you told me to go though.

I took one last deep inhale of the water I knew before breaching the surface. Everything felt wrong without the water, without the currents. I felt something strange brushing past me, it made everything worse. Hesitating would leave me in this terrible place too long. Quickly, I trailed my hand up the rock wall of the nest I resided within until I found air. Then I reached forward letting the currents guide me as soon as my claws hit the water.

It wasn’t long before something touched the tips of my finger. It was so small, smaller than I could even remember being. I must have been smaller than the thing on my fingers at some point. I moved so my palm cradled the tiny being. More things joined them, but they were saved. I pulled them up, into the air I despised.

My hand continued to rise until I knew it was even with my eyes. I pulled the little human close, biting back a growl as the coughing started from my palm. I couldn’t risk them dying when you’d sent me to them. I ran two claws over my hand to the smallest spot of warmth. Pinching them caused a tiny yelp to reach my ears. I ignored it, quickly dropping them into my mouth. I would heal them as I searched for the cave the sirens used. A place above water, where their voices could reach even the humans.

The small creature struggled against my tongue, but I couldn’t begin to care. I reached out to find the small cave. It wasn’t hard to find the opening, it was part of the area only just open enough for me. The air was blowing towards it too, it was strange. Almost like the currents I was used to. Someday I’d take my place to protect this nest and it would be as deep in the waters as I could reach.

More struggles pulled me from my thoughts. I reached into the opening to find the floor, using my arm to guide my other hand. I dumped everything to the ground before pulling back and opening my mouth again. I easily pinched the squirming human in my claws before dropping them alongside all the other debris I’d captured. A sigh escaped as I realized I would need to come up here daily to get them food. I didn’t want to care for a human, but I wouldn’t let the one you asked me to save die.

I hefted myself out of the water to reach deeper into the ocean outside of my prison. I scooped up all the fish I could before falling back to the waters I knew. Sliding down I used the noise of the tiny human muttering to find where they were. Dropping the fish near them caused another yelp. I didn’t expect anything from having saved them.

“Th-thank you!” they shouted. I jumped, no one had ever thanked me. I helped my kind before, but I never received that. I lowered myself until my mouth was covered by the water. “I-I surely would have perished without your action my lady.”

“I did as I was ordered to,” I answered. I could feel your disdain for the words as soon as they left my mouth. I didn’t quite care, you directed me to do something and I did it. I didn’t think the human could speak my language anyway. That they’d know what my words meant, or even truly respond. “Thanking me is pointless.”

“My lady, you still saved me and for that I thank you.”

“I can’t bring you back to humans. You’ll be here for the rest of your life.”

“Well I had been running to find a place for safety, this appears safe enough. I still feel grateful for your actions.”

The kind words made my cheeks feel warm. I had never felt it before. I dove into the water, hiding from the human. I heard words again, but I didn’t want to hear them. In my memory now I want to say I watched them. That I worried about their safety, but I didn’t. I almost hoped they’d try to leave. To spurn the kindness you offered through me. They never did.

After some time it was easy to just follow a routine. I would wake, breach the surface, collect fish for the human, and return to my depths. A part of me knew you wanted me to do more with the human, but I didn’t care. Until you told me to speak to them I had no intention of doing so. The human tried to speak to me, many times actually. I always ignored them.

I remember a day I woke up late. I had nightmares, ones I hid from you. The feeling of teeth biting through my tail hadn’t evaded me. The one before me was gone, but I was still scared. I expected the silence of the waters when I woke up. That silence calmed me each time I had a dream like that. This time I heard singing. A calm deep tone that reached into my bones. I still remember the shudder that sent me racing to the surface.

As soon as I felt the air on my skin the beautiful singing stopped. I knew it was at the surface and for once I wanted the noise to stay. In the memories I have the human yelped and reminded me they were there. In reality I probably whimpered. I knew I whimpered the next time I woke up to that dulcet voice.

“My lady? Did I disturb you?” they asked. As much as I wanted to avoid speaking with them, I had to know. For the first time in a long time I allowed the sight to enter my eyes. Lights that still terrified me filled the shadows I had always known. It was a bit hard to find where the human was, the burnt parts of my eyes hiding them. Once I found them I sank into the water and stared at them.

“Was that you?” I asked. It wasn’t possible. Humans singing as their vessels passed was common. Before I took my place I listened at times, it never sounded like the tones I’d woken up to.

“I do apologize my lady, I tend to sing while I cook and had lost myself this fine morn. I will be more careful. I would never wish to disturb you after your kindness in helping me survive since that horrible crash.” My vision filtered back to the shadows. It felt like I could still see their form, it wasn’t true. I could smell them though. Something that was tempting.

“I… it didn’t bother me.” In all honesty I wanted to ask them to sing. I wanted to hear more, but I was scared. I couldn’t open the door to them. Let them start to do something for me, it would change this from your request to something different. Something… something I didn’t understand at the time.

“That is truly a relief my lady.” I heard shuffling, it was strange to hear the movements of a human. “I do appreciate the chance to speak with you. I wanted to thank you once again for saving me that day. Also I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. Please call me Sy.”

“Sigh?” The word felt wrong. Somehow sounded wrong too. I couldn’t quite make it.

“Close enough my lady. As I said I am Sy, might I have the honor of my heroine’s name?”

Instead of answering I sank into the water. I didn’t have a name, I never wanted a name. At that time… At that moment I was ashamed for not having a name. For days I avoided the human… I avoided Sy. I would only surface when the currents ran calm, when the night had taken hold. Looking back I think I was scared. I think… I think I was worried they’d hate me if I truly spoke. If I even allowed them to know I didn’t have a name. Even the one before me had a name.

Days passed without Sy talking to me. Then that song came again. This time it lit my body on fire, I was awake when they started to sing. I nearly jumped out of the sea, as though I was possessed. I heard a scream as the dulcet tones stopped. Almost on instinct I found the spot that should be Sy’s location, blocking the edges with my fingers. Water spilled past until their miniscule form bounced against my finger.

In a panic I pinched them with my claws. Dropped them in my mouth and focused on them. This time… That time I noticed their taste. Even now I have no words to explain how amazing it was to me. I purred, I never even knew I could make that noise. If they hadn’t begun to squirm I likely would have lost focus and slid back to my usual resting spot. 

When I pulled Sy from my mouth they coughed. I was waiting for some kind of anger or hatred. Instead the coughing slowed. Carefully I set them back on the dry land, their tiny fingers dug into my skin before long. I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. The small feeling wouldn’t let me run away.

 “You’ve saved me once more my lady,” Sy said after some time. My chirp made the tiny fingers against me jump. It actually made me sad, but the guilt I felt took over. I saved them from my own actions, if I hadn’t jumped from the waters.

“...don’t thank me,” I whispered. For the first time I wondered how my voice sounded without the water. “I had put you in danger.”

“It seems you are misunderstanding my lady. I had been preparing one of the fish you generously gave me last night. My knife slipped, it’s unfortunately dull honestly. I injured myself, in a panic I removed it. I had only known you to respond when I had been singing and the burns of the sun were gone when you had first saved me. I merely hoped you’d have a way to staunch the bleeding and cure me once more.”

“You… you wanted my help.” The idea was foreign. No one had wanted help from me before, they just wanted to use me. Although Sy had wanted my healing. That would be my use.

“I did. I cannot see that I deserve your continued kindness, but I do once more thank you for saving my life. Although it will be harder to cook the fish safely. I will be more careful in the future so that I will not worry you or abuse the kindness you’ve already offered.” I sank in the water until my mouth was covered. I left my hand near them. 

“My claws are sharp.” The words flew from me, but I didn’t know if I meant this. I’d be around them. They’d see me and talk to me. I wouldn’t have the silence, I wouldn’t have the currents either. I didn’t stop the words. “You can use them to cut the fish…”

“My lady, I could never do that. Using your claws as a tool is cruel.”

“It’s better than you hurting yourself with the…” I remember struggling back then. I had never heard a word how he said it. “Nighfuh”

“I… That would be wonderful, thank you my lady.”

“Just… tell me once you’ve finished with my claws for now.”

That started so many things. Every day I would go sit with my hand on the surface. I could feel when he brought the fish each time. At first it was silent until they were done with my knife like claws. Then they started to hum while they used it to slice the fish. I didn’t understand why they did that. Then they started to talk to me.

“My lady, would you mind if I told you how I came to be here?” they asked me one day.

“I won’t stop you from speaking,” was all I could answer. They stopped what they were doing that time, laying back against my fingers. It shocked me, but I didn’t mind. I was starting to find myself enjoying their presence.

“I had left my home a long time ago. I managed to cause trouble that made us all targets. We went all over, but in my new home trouble found me again. Honestly I was running away. People wanted to hurt me.”

A whine left me. It wasn’t on purpose. Somewhere deep in my heart I understood the pain. In some way I had caused trouble, I had to leave and trouble found me. Others of my kind continued to hunt me. They made many attempts on my life. Admittedly the sirens’ nest was a blessing, I was finally safe. Even when the one before me had been cruel. Small hands tapped against my finger in a rhythmic fashion. A calming fashion.

“I joined a ship that had been coming in this direction. Late at night when we neared my goal I stole one of the lifeboats. My lady, I had come here expecting to die. There were stories about a cruel creature. A merfolk of legend that enjoyed destroying ships that came close, but the crew had always survived. I had… I had hoped the merfolk would take pity on me. That the merfolk would kill me.”

Another whine, this time in pain. It had to be the one before me that did that. Neither of us could injure another on purpose. I knew that, he told me that. It meant he had never killed the humans just as Sy said.

“When I fled the ship I’d traveled on, I had unfortunately picked the night of a storm. As the waves crashed I thought my life was forfeit and… and I grew scared. I realized when my small ship capsized I wanted to live. Then your hand appeared.”

Sy’s small hands pushed into my skin. The tiniest warmth of their form disappeared. It… it hurt me. I doubt I would have ever understood if they stopped their story there.

“At first I thought I had discovered the merfolk of legend. I expected to die. After you released me… I thought I had been saved by an angel.”

 A rumble started in my chest when they said that. One I had never made before.

“My lady, my angel, my proof that the stories those who raised me told were wrong. I deeply thank you for saving me and wish to do anything I can to grow closer to you.”

Honestly I don’t remember how I reacted anymore. You would probably know had I been in the water. You never forget anything do you? That doesn’t matter. It once more changed things. They would call out to me more often. Eventually they started to call me angel, as if it were my name.

The next shock came only a few days later. They used my claws to cut the fish. For once I was starting to let myself be curious. I… wanted to talk to them.

“Why do you cut the fish?” I asked. Sy yelped, but it actually made me smile.

“Angel, I’m honored you would choose to let me solve your curiosity. I cannot safely eat raw fish. I need to cut it to cook it. It’s often a bit much for me, would you care to try it?” The offer terrified me. 

“I… will try it.”

“Excellent!”

I listened as the human ran around. A strange crackling sound came from near my hand. A stronger heat than the human usually produced came from it. I wanted to touch it, but the fact I had no idea where Sy was kept me still. Eventually they started to sing again. The notes they hit were calming. It made me want to be near them. I was almost growing glad that you had told me to help.

“I hope you don’t mind waiting. It shouldn’t take much longer Angel.” 

“I don’t mind.” It was true. With all the time I had been above the waters I was losing my distaste for it. I realized the air had something similar to the water’s currents. It was becoming easier to find my way, feeling the currents outside the water.

“I do hope you enjoy this. I can’t imagine merfolk are much for cooking living below the waves.”

“Mer fall keh?” I tried to mimic the word this time. They often used that term talking about me, I didn’t know what it meant.

“Ah yes, I do hope it is the right term. Others around me had always called the beings in legends of your kind merfolk. Is that not quite the right term? I would be happy to know what you truly are my dear.”

“I… have never known. Merfallk is fine…”

“Merfolk it is then, my dear.”

Their fish finished cooking soon after. It was a strange and amazing taste, but I honestly liked Sy’s taste better. After that more days were spent above the waves with them. More stories told about their life with humans. How their singing was something they had to stop a long time ago. The fact I didn’t mind made them happy.

It was a curious time. I never expected things to be like that. At night I was growing excited by the prospect of the next day. They made me happy. I didn’t think I’d ever be more than alive. A life of solitude had frozen my heart. That ice had slowly begun to melt thanks to the smallest sprinkling of heat I’d ever found.

“Sy,” I spoke up first for once. Only a few days before things were going to change. Looking back I almost wish I never spoke up. Maybe things wouldn’t change. “I… want to tell you of my life…”

“Are you sure?” They asked me. I could hear the curiosity in their words. They wanted to know and after all this time I wanted to tell.

“Yes. I… I am something special here in the ocean. Trapped here to protect this place, the things hidden within here. I was taught very little by the one before me. They were meant to prepare me to take my role.”

“Before you? Your predecessor?” They didn’t often interrupt when I spoke, but I didn’t mind. 

“Pred essess or?” As had happened since I first tried to say one of their words it felt wrong. As though it wasn’t meant for me. 

“Yes, the one who held your position before you. Perhaps more of a mentor? A predecessor would be the one you took over from, but a mentor should teach you more.”

“Then he was my predessessor. I came here and he was cruel, but I survived what he did.”

I felt those impossible hands on my skin. Gently petting me. Something strange ran down my face. They gasped which made my fingers curl in. It pushed them, but they stayed next to my fingers. I… They should have hated me then. If they hated me, pushed me away they would have been fine. I had tasted them. Trapped them to spend their short life within the desolate waters.

“He claimed it was for my safety.” The words spilled out. All the words about the past that I kept to myself. That I didn’t realize weighed so heavily on my frozen heart. “He would bite my tail hard enough I bled, but then he’d heal it. I have marks from where I healed around his teeth. Claws dug into my sides, but the most terrifying were the times he’d rest his tail on me. I thought it would crush me.”

“Angel… I have no words to express the pain I feel hearing of your life. I… I doubt I could truly understand the feelings in your heart. Please tell me anything that weighs on you. I want to be able to support you in the ways I can. Cry all you need.”

That was the first time I had cried. The only time someone taught me what the feeling on my cheeks meant. I duck beneath the waves for only a second before returning to where I knew they could see me. Hours were spent with them sitting within my curled fingers. Eventually I pulled my hand away. They made a noise.

“My lady before you go, I have a question. After all this time, would you grace me with your name?” The request somehow hurt me more. I hugged myself before I spoke.

“I have never had one.”

The following days were awkward. They used my claws, even gave me some of their fish, but didn’t speak. I wanted to hear them. The song I had started to memorize didn’t even grace their lips. I worried my admission had finally ruined whatever had begun. My melting heart wept… as did I. I remember you using the currents to try and comfort me. The way they surrounded me in almost a hug.

The next time they spoke to me the world that had been created between us was destroyed.

“My lady, I fear I must be honest with you,” they said. It scared me. I thought they had told me their truth. I didn’t do anything, but they already knew that meant I was listening. “My decision to come here was not solely in hopes my life would be forfeit. I had come here for something else. You see, my family told stories of an old life. One… one where our ancestors belonged in the waters. We sang and the magic held in the words was a blessing for others to hear. I… I came here hoping to reclaim that.”

“What do you mean?” No one had said anything about magic. About a blessing or anything similar.

“There are songs that I know. That have seeped into my mind my whole life. The true power lies in some relics here. Please, allow me to access this and learn what this power holds.”

In fear I ducked under the waves. There was no secret power. I was your voice. Your avatar. I didn’t hold secrets that would reveal something to them. It wasn’t possible. Only… that’s when you finally spoke again. So long you left me in silence with the human. Allowed Sy to melt the ice that would have kept me content. You waited to tell me the truth of what I protected.

The stones, show them the stones. You said. I shook my head. They were meant to stay in the cave, they were my charges. I tried to pretend I had no idea what you meant. The ones that had burned you so long ago. I will help you guide them. Go to the entrance and swirl your hand. The stones will follow.

I wanted to ignore you. It scared me that you even spoke up. Instead I listened. I dove down and swirled my hand. My claws scraped the ground, but the currents that followed were stronger than I had ever caused before. Stone slammed into my fingers. Once I stopped moving the stones sat heavily on my fingers. They felt big, much bigger than Sy. You told me to give them to him…

I steeled my nerves as I curled my fingers into my palm. It was hard to count the things in my hand. Something about them was changing, it felt like a single mass. I needed to get them away from me. In my view it took hours to reach the surface, but in reality it was merely seconds. I allowed the lights to invade my vision, seeking out Sy before I let the stones fall to the land they were waiting on.

“My lady, what did you bring?” they asked. They sounded scared and excited. A mixture I hated. I had no answer. 

“Something I was told to give you.”

The silence was deafening. I couldn’t bring myself to keep seeing the lights, retreating to the shadows I found comforting. Eventually Sy was singing. It didn’t sound like the songs they’d offered before. It was harsher, forced. I whined as they sang. Somewhere in my soul I knew things were going to change. That it wouldn’t last and it hurt horribly. Honestly I have no idea how long the song lasted. It echoed in my mind long after they stopped.

“...I need to rest,” they said. I accepted it and returned to the depths where I knowingly cried. The haunting echo causing nightmares I won’t ever repeat, even to you.

The next days were similar to the beginning. Silence despite the fact they’d been so talkative before. They would use my claws slowly to cut and clean the fish. Sometimes I heard a shout and crash, it caused me to chirp. They always assured me they were fine. A simple quip, “Don’t worry my dear.” They didn’t sound right, as though more than one person spoke.

It scared me. This wasn’t what I wanted. It made me hate you, they weren’t the same. If I had never listened I would still have them. They would talk or sing… That was the worst part. I never heard them singing. They wouldn’t sing the haunting words or the ones that drew me in. All I received was silence.

“My lady, might I see your teeth?” they asked. Almost two weeks after they’d seen those stones. The stones were far away, hidden back where they had started. The idea of them almost made me growl.

“Why?” It was a strange request. My racing heart made it hard to comply. I didn’t have trouble complying when they’d touched my hair or claws. My teeth were no different.

“Please my dear, just something I have to do. It will only take a second.” 

“Go back, to the very back and I will show you my teeth.” I lowered myself to wait. I knew there was enough space I could leave my teeth where they could truly see them.

“Ready. I truly thank you for this, my lady.” 

Moving forward set my heart pounding. Tears were on my face. As though I’d seen the ending before it happened. As though I knew that the last new word I would be taught was predecessor. A part of me will never forgive you for that. For letting the events that were coming reach their conclusion. You could have made it easier. We both know that.

The sound of their footsteps was strange. Broken, halting steps. It was more like they were fighting something to reach me. It made me hold my breath, I was terrified that I was keeping them away. The steps continued in the strange cadence. A stumble forward met with seconds of silence. I worried they would never reach me.

“My lady, your teeth do in fact appear sharper than your claws. I can’t quite say why I asked for things this way, you do not deserve these consequences I have brought on myself.” Words sat on my tongue, but they were too close. I couldn’t take a risk. I wouldn’t kill them. “I have stories to tell you soon angel. If you’ll give me this one last gift.”

A scream filled my senses. Soon after the taste of their blood landed on my tongue. I lunged without thinking, if I grabbed them I could heal them. They were smart. Sy avoided me. Tears flooded my face. I had hurt them. The one who melted my heart was hurt by me.

“My lady,” their voice was different. “Do not cry, I did that on purpose. Those songs, those stones, they did something to me. Another has been in my mind and heart. I cannot keep them at bay forever. I could not risk the horrible things they wish to do to you.”

“Let me heal you. I can look for another way to fix this,” I begged them. I knew it wouldn’t happen. I already knew deep in my heart there was no way to stop what they said.

“Please, just indulge me. I know I must die, my lady. If you’ll only hear the parts of my story I’ve yet to tell.”

“Speak.” The only word I could manage. I pulled back, inviting the lights once more. Staring at the brightest one below me. The one… the one I wanted to save.

“I had been running because of my voice for many years. When my power came in I sang a song that haunted my mind. It poisoned the others around me. Everyone could understand everything. Animals and humans. It terrified the others. It lasted on everyone except myself for a mere day, but my family ran in fear of witchcraft accusations. There was a chance we’d all be hunted for what had happened.”

Their light changed, grew darker. It made me whine.

“Unfortunately I hadn’t learned my lesson. Of course it didn’t help I kept the results. I could speak to any and everyone. Understand them too. It… it was why I understood you, my lady. After you told me the truth I couldn’t keep running, not to stay here with you. I thought… I thought I was strong enough.”

“Strong enough?” My own voice was foreign. I had never heard myself in that manner. Too quiet, too pained… too emotional.

“Strong enough to bear the curse my mother had warned me of. The sirens, that’s what we were, had stones that held our power. It held the songs, if I had them I’d be free to do more. The pull and dreams would go away. I’d be here with you and free of the motives that brought me. I had already stopped wishing to die, now I could stop wishing for the songs.”

Their light dimmed again. Almost blending in with the shadows. I wanted to go back. To keep hidden from this. That I could pretend they were thriving. You’d told me I had to see the lights. It would tell me when a charge was in danger… when a charge was dying. A charge was dying right in front of me and I was frozen. I couldn’t ignore their request.

“I was wrong. I wasn’t strong enough to fight this curse. Now I must leave you. I’m so sorry my dear, my angel.”

“Don’t leave, let me…” I brought my hands close to the constantly dimming light. Their small small palm pressed against me to tell me no. I could force them, but the idea made me sick.

“That isn’t all I wanted to tell you. I had to face this because I wanted to give you something.”

A whimper escaped me this time.

“My family has a tradition. Our names are related to music. I had been hoping to give you one too. A name all your own. My name.. My full name is Symphony. I couldn’t think of one for you. Anything I thought of sounded wrong for an angel such as you. I apologize…”

“No. no don’t say that. I don’t need a name.”

“I will still give you something. I can be sure that my soul will be pulled to join what has tried to take my mind. I will not let you face others who act as foolish as I. I will keep sirens from learning the songs, making my mistakes, and torturing you my lady… my angel. I will still be close and I shall fight with you in my mind for as long as my soul persists.”

Whimpers were all that left me. Their light was too dim. It was nearly gone.

“Although. I would like it if you indulge my selfish wants once more. You said you liked my taste, please do not leave me for scavengers or for fish to devour. Be the one to rid this world of my remains…” 

All I could do was cry. Their fingers dug into my skin. I shook my head, but you knew as well as I did that I would do what they asked. When their light was almost gone my own heart shattered. 

“Why did you both do this?” I cried. For the first time in my life I made my voice as loud as I could. “My predessessor only told me his name was Shark before he died. Told me to hate him to never forget him. Now you tell me all of this, put me through all this pain and offer me your name just as you die. Symphony, how could you melt my heart and leave?! Offer me something I never once considered and abandon me?! How could you make me understand what it means to be happy then leave me?!”

I received no answers. By the time I shouted, Symphony’s light was gone. I was alone. I did honor their request, disposing of their corpse as you had me do with Shark’s. I promised myself I would be the only one here until their soul was free. I would never put another through my pain. I would be here… I would be your avatar… eternally.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you happy? You’ve heard my memories there’s no reason to continue this,” Harmony had started crying early in her story. She’d almost forgotten Symphony’s tradition, that new siren may be a distant relative. “There was nothing until the next one arrived. When the siren arrived and destroyed the stones. My only wish is for Sy’s soul to be set free with their destruction.”

I am never happy to hear these memories, the ocean itself whispered to her. He was a gentle being, pulling her away from her reality. The two were in some strange place where his body was small enough to hold her. Harmony had told her story with the ocean spirit’s hands running through her hair. Is there anything more you’d like to tell? More you would like to recall? The childhood you lived alone or with those who hatched you? The time you spent with Shark despite his cruelty? Please little one tell me all on your mind.

Harmony was done. The ocean’s voice was deceiving. Her words promised relief, but these memories offered nothing but pain. There was nothing to share. Shark was a cruel merfolk who wanted to be hated, the ones who started her life were selfish, the in between filled with nothing but her own travels in silence.

“Why are you asking me this? Did you ask me for a reason?” Harmony had grown tired. Her reasons for staying were long gone. She just had to live until the siren was gone. Then her replacement would arrive, devour her body and grow twice her size. Possibly bigger. 

Your time for rest is imminent little one, her voice was soft and calm. You will no longer suffer. I ask this because I will never forget you, Harmony. I remember all who have held your role. You are the closest to my own children and I will not let you suffer with no one to think of you.

“Shark wasn’t telling me his life was he? He was telling you…”

Yes, little one. Is there anything I can do before you finally rest? It’s nearly time now, mere minutes before the magic of your soul has run its course. Thousands of years is rare for your kind to last alone as you have been. 

“All I’d want is to speak with them once more…” Harmony knew it was impossible. There would be no way to do that. Sy’s soul had moved on.

I am able to grant that. They had not left yet, waiting for you.

Harmony jumped, the arms just slightly bigger than her tightened. She waited for the scent she knew so well to reach her. For their voice, the song, anything. She wanted to just tell them her name… That finally what they wanted had happened she had one.

“My lady?” Sy’s voice made her jump despite expecting it. “Where are we? How… how could this be? Have I reached the heavens and been gifted a chance to see you once more?”

“No little siren,” the ocean spoke. His voice had always echoed in her mind. Their words were loud, too loud. Almost painful for her and yet just enough she could understand. “This time will be short, the two of you both must go soon. Speak as you will.”

Their arms disappeared. Harmony whined at the change, but different arms held her. They weren’t ones she knew. No one except the ocean could hold her anymore. One of the hands started to pet her hair as it pulled her close.

“I admit my lady, this is a strange view of you. Although I do enjoy seeing your face all at once,” Sy said. Their voice was in her ear. They were her size, the ocean giving them a chance to talk at the same size. “It seems the curse has been broken. I am relieved to know you are not forced to suffer with another fool like myself.”

“I did. There was another siren. She had a brother who broke the stones. She made new ones…” Harmony said. It was strange, truly getting to speak with them again. “When her brother brought me new ones, they offered me a name.”

“I hope you took it, angel. A name that suits you.”

“They had your tradition. Music based names… They offered me Harmony and I accepted. My name is Harmony. I can finally tell you, after all this time. I wanted to tell you for so long.”

“Harmony…” She worried when their hand paused on her head. “That is perfect. I could not pick one myself so many fit you, but harmony is all brought together. Yes, Harmony. It’s wonderful to meet you Harmony, please call me Symphony. Although those closest to me call me Sy and I’d be honored if you would do the same.”

Harmony cried. Sy wiped away her tears. She wrapped her arms around them and pulled them close.

“I still remember that song you always sang. I started to sing it myself after you died,” she whispered.

“Would you grace me with your rendition?” they asked. Harmony nodded, she knew they’d see her. She could be confident they’d see her.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyrie put his all into his tail. He had to reach Harmony. She had to know what had happened. His tears were floating behind him instead of up due to his speed. Melody was… he couldn’t even think it. He almost crashed into the cave rather than hitting the entrance. It was harder than normal to squeeze through.

Once he opened the secret door for his size he hesitated. Harmony’s voice echoed out, but she was singing. He’d never heard her sing before. It was nice, not as nice as Melody’s. It actually slowed his tears as he swam closer. When he entered the nest he panicked.

“Harmony!?” he shouted. The massive mermaid had taken a strange position near the surface. Her tail was sliced into the nearby rock and her eyes were closed. 

“I’m tired, they said I could finally rest,” she whispered. Kyrie’s heart was racing. Pulse crashing in his ears. This couldn’t happen, not the same day. He can’t lose them both at once. His mate and his mentor, both at once. “Kyrie is ready… I can finally go on. We can go together, Sy.”

Time moved too slowly as the light faded from her eyes. His body screamed to do something, but he couldn’t move. The bubbles from her gills and the slight twitch of her fins were gone. His eyes blurred as he stared at her. Melody was gone, Harmony was gone… Caprice would be next… All he could do was scream.

Who are some of your favorite FOP characters and why? Or more specifically, what is something they character did that made you like them?

For the sake of rambling on about some of the convoluted reasons why I love these children, here's the upfront disclaimer that I'll be referencing a few of the early draft episode scripts (from Fred Seibert's Scribd); that's where the wordy screenshots are from.

[ Tagged as "long post" but same deal as usual - if I put a Read More on it, it'll crash and delete :') Sorry ]

Imaginary Gary was my first true love in terms of FOP characters. He's such a brokenhearted little 5-year-old trying to play with the big kids. His debut episode starts out so lighthearted and silly with Timmy talking about this imaginary friend who used to attend therapy with him play with him when he was 5. The tone shift you get punched with after Gary realizes Cosmo and Wanda have to grant his wishes too because "he's a part of Timmy" just hits so hard.

I also just love his debut episode because it speaks so much to me about what the show is really about at its core... Timmy got physically and emotionally wrecked by Vicky as a kid, and that's a trauma he's still recovering from. The boy is not okay.

Fanart I made the first time I watched FOP, circa 2016

"Escape from Unwish Island" is very good too, such a fantastic episode in both context and execution.

I think Mark was the second show character I fell in love with, namely around "New Squid In Town" and "Five Days of F.L.A.R.G." There's something so incredibly charming about a teenage alien prince who flees his fiancée at the altar and seeks protection from a scary rival boy... and then just, like, enjoys being human so much that sometimes Timmy shows up at his house and Mark is just hanging out in his human 10-year-old disguise. By himself. Because he likes to be 10 and human. Love that for him.

His entire character type of "surfer dude alien prince" is so funny and creative. Mark is the guy who suffers physical pain when he's hugged, but he'll hug Timmy anyway in an attempt to show Earth affection. He has such a good heart. I also enjoy his dynamic with Vicky, like how he still wants the real girl even though his parents cloned her for him in Season 2, and how he keeps making attempts to be physically affectionate with her according to American culture even though things are drastically different on Yugopotamia.

They break up at the end of "King Chang" because she finds out he's an alien, then a few episodes later in "Wishology" they're hanging out again and he tries to put his arm around her while in alien form and she's like "Don't even think about it" and he respects her rejection, and then they still get back together in Season 9 even though she blatantly knows he's an alien and she decided she was okay with it, and he just adores her so much and has ever since Season 1... he's a sweetheart.

Also this early "Foul Balled" script hits the right spot for me-

Sob... they are in LOVE, your honor.

Mark's journey to being a terrifying prince who feared a human boy to becoming Timmy's biggest fan and best friend is just really sweet. I like to imagine they become roommates later in life. Timmy has to say good-bye to Cosmo and Wanda someday, but Mark stays in touch forever.

Flappy Bob has always been a favorite of mine. The man played the perfect role of an untouchable antagonist while simultaneously doing nothing wrong. Worked hard in school, started a business, did his best to make it a pleasant place to be. Stood up for Betty when she told Gary to respect her touch boundaries, straight up chased him down to make sure he didn't cross a line... all-around great boss.

Got handed magic and wished to make the world a safe place where people could feel loved and not get hurt. After his world of peace was in effect, he walked around, did his own research, and came to his own conclusion that this wasn't working out. Apologized to Timmy for being wrong and did all he could to fix the situation. Sold his business to Gary and Betty, then left town to live his dreams.

The clown theme was a lot of fun to see in a movie, and I'm glad it was acknowledged since it would have felt weird to see him namedropped in Season 2 ("Totally Spaced Out") and then not have the clown aspect be followed through with... The Musical is my favorite episode for good reason. Absolute sweetheart, 10 out of 10. This man can do no wrong.

I don't have much to say about him beyond that, but he's a fantastic character I adore. I would have loved to have seen more of him, but he did all that he needed to do and he's perfect. Also, big shout out to Timmy for handling the interactions with Flappy with grace even though in this same season, he revealed he has a clown phobia.

H.P. is just a funny guy. He's the big boss of a race of clones who file magical paperwork and he really just wants to swing by the club and dance and hang out. Incredibly sarcastic. He'll call you "Dude." Teamed up with Anti-Cosmo and immediately dubbed him with a nickname. Successfully took over two worlds in a single day (after planning this for 37 years) and just wanted to chill in a hot tub tbh.

He's a big, sassy goofball who likes to party and he shouldn't be brushed off as "just an old guy who speaks in monotone and does dull and boring paperwork and nothing else." He is very much Not That. Fairies canonically get drunk off soda, which means we've literally seen H.P. drink on the job. Slaps high-fives and fingerguns his underlings. Smirks and snarks constantly. Respects contracts even when they don't go his way. Keeps detailed files about members of another species. Supports his employees when they join music competitions. Gave his godson a nice car and flowers and sent him on a date with a girl he'd already screwed up with.

Literally gambled all of Fairy World in a bet against a 10-year-old boy and then almost quit after like 30 seconds because he wanted to go to a rave instead. Laughs at his own jokes. Complains when his employees suck up to him. Dressed in drag to flirt with Jorgen. Straight-up lost a golf game to Timmy despite the fact he was cheating in an attempt to win. As in, like... even before Cosmo tipped the scales back into Timmy's favor, H.P. was straight-up losing slkdjfs.

He golfs in his full-on business suit. Twirls his club like a baton. His head will stick in a dartboard if you throw him hard enough, and when Jorgen used him for darts the only thing he said was "You can only imagine the joy I feel in my heart right now." He has a laser cannon in his head. Jabs his elbow into you for attention. Always being snooty with hands on his hips. Used a newborn as a yo-yo. Kidnapped a baby, then announced he wanted to name the child Bill because "Bill's a guy you'd trust with your insurance portfolio."

Went out and bought office supplies in the middle of the Fairy World Games. Won a footrace against Anti-Cosmo. Uses dollar bills as pizza toppings. Keeps chicken drumsticks in his ear. Will flap his arms and make chicken noises at you. Monotone "Go me, go me, it's my birthday." Literally makes you use enormous microscopes just to read the fine print in his contracts. Will hand you a cell phone and then call you even though you're standing in front of him. Once wore a bowler hat on top of his already existing hat.

Keeps his golf club on the table during board meetings. Likes to breakdance. Anti-Cosmo started taunting him and H.P. jumped on a scooter and said "The only thing you'll be eating today is my dust! Later dude!" and peaced out. He might be one of the oldest and most "professional" characters in the series, but in his heart he's like 21 and a total party-loving dork. He's all business on the clock and he might even pay attention to you for five minutes, but honestly he just wants to drink soda, attend raves, and do the worm. H.P. is my dear beloved and I just can't imagine not adoring this perfect man.

And he really is just Like That:

I love him so much...

I like how H.P. was totally okay with splitting the world with Sanderson when they take over... When asked WHY he wants to take over, his reply is "I'm not a hater, but I must cater, to my mission, my ambition, to be the world's administrator" and I like to interpret this as "I don't hate Fairies, but their world is disorganized and I have OCD." Oh no. His hat is also a pen.

Also the OG script shows Jorgen, Anti-Cosmo, and H.P. each choosing a contest for Timmy to judge them on so Timmy can name one of them the "best in the universe." I am obsessed with the sheer confidence of H.P. selecting one task in the universe he knew he could beat Jorgen and Anti-Cosmo at, so obviously he picks:

(Anti-Cosmo wanted to play cowboys)

This early script also depicts H.P. and Anti-Cosmo getting in a magic fight and exchanging insults like "Bring it on, meat" and "Oh no you didn't" while they shoot each other with duckzookas and magic and I need everyone to understand how much I treasure the bitter frenemy silliness that is... Them™

Idk, I feel like if H.P. had been portrayed as a younger character with the exact same personality then he'd probably be more popular in the fandom, and that's really too bad because he's freaking hilarious. He is just a guy. A dude. He's here to party and make it everybody's problem. We need way more H.P. content out there, I adore him.

Sanderson I like for many of the same reasons as H.P.- I've always loved dorky suck-up characters. Plus, Sanderson blatantly cheating at every competition he touches is funny to me. He has a similar goofy attitude to H.P. except he's also like, more vulgar and easily distracted and it's hilarious. My boy really broke a rhyme scheme to compliment his boss on the same hat he's been wearing since forever. In his mind, H.P. is just really really cool and he'll say it.

Sanderson loves music, but when he had the chance to describe himself in song form, his response was basically "Lol, I'm about to end Fairy World's whole career; bite me" and I respect that. He is just the perfect embodiment of "that suck-up who likes to drink and party with his boss, but oh wait! He also has a lot of genuine affection in his heart! But oh wait! He'll also screw you over :)" He's great.

I very much enjoy the fact that when Gary called for Pixie backup in the Musical, it was Sanderson, not H.P., who got the call. I like to think Sanderson took Gary and Betty under his wing and might be a little more attached to his dorky music-loving "godkids" than he'd like H.P. to know. H.P. gets to call the shots, but Sanderson will sneak them candy. As Gary starts sliding off the deep end in my 'fics, I think Sanderson's slowly breaking heart is one of my favorite parts of the whole arc. He really likes Gary, but his hands are tied on how much he can interfere even when his mental health comes crashing down. He's a high-up at Pixies Inc., but still can't overrule the boss's orders. It's lots of fun to play with characters who have power, badly want things, but can't take the risk to use power for the things they want.

I just love my little dynamic of Happy Peppy "I'm a pawn who can't cry in front of my godfathers" Gary and Mr. "I can't express affection in front of Gary or I'll get fired" Sanderson. There's just so much pain there to play with if you jump into FOP canon, point at Gary's call to the Pixies, and say "And I took that personally."

I also enjoy the fact that Timmy was extremely insistent that Poof needed to score "perfect 10s" on the gymnastics course in the Fairy World Games and the Pixies bribed the judges to take 1st place, which implies that it was the Pixies, not the Anti-Fairies, who scored a 10-10-9. Sanderson and H.P. are the only pixies seen on the field in that event and I would have loved to see that. Sanderson likes to be where the action is. He is hanging out.

Happy Peppy Gary and Betty are just inherently fascinating. It's pretty obvious that they know about the magical world. Even if we wave off their weird laser tech and overlook the fact that they got teleported from California to Florida, then made it back before the end of their work shifts in "Baby Face" and didn't even question it... there's a scene in the Musical where Gary picks up a phone that is blatantly labeled "Pixies" and calls Sanderson directly. My boy really went "Dad pick me up, I'm scared" slkdjf I love him.

Actually that's not true, his actual words were "Kids just being kids; they could all get hurt!" and honestly my heart. Like, I'm a full believer that the Happy Peppy duo were in on the Pixie takeover scheme even though Flappy wasn't, they are miscreants, but still... Vote Happy Peppy duo some of the sweetest and most innocent characters in FOP canon, please and thank. Ignore the times they launched babies off-screen, used lasers to cage infants, stuffed a child in a box in front of his horrified peers, and all that other stuff, that's not important. My children did nothing wrong.

I just really love thinking about all the different backstories you could write about these... extremely intense teenagers getting mixed up with magic. I favor the idea that the Pixies have always raised them the same way they raised Flappy Bob, but I think the concept of these two showing up for work one day and accidentally walking in on Pixies scheming to take over the world is equally hilarious.

I want what Gary has- I want the absolute confidence to look a crowd of kids and adults in the eye after they've just been tormented - after I'VE just been tormented - and say "Welcome back, give me money." The extent of the brand overhaul he did on the Learn-a-Torium was slapping his and Betty's names on the side and investing in giant images of their heads. He changed nothing else, not even the uniforms, and just decided to shoot his shot. I love him.

It's also VERY cute that we saw a cardboard "You must be this tall" Gary standee in "Baby Face" and I'm obsessed. This is before Gary and Betty took over, so why isn't it a Flappy standee? For some reason this cracks me up because the implication is that either Gary loves his job so much that he volunteered to be a standee model or someone else took one look at him and knew he was destined to be the smiling face of the Learn-A-Torium so they made standees of him. I love it.

I adore Gary and Betty because they make me think... To me, they're not easy to brush aside and overlook because I have a million questions, and they're cute and fun and I love them. I wonder if Vicky runs in their social circle. They probably cross paths in the babysitting field sometimes.

Also the fact that Betty is so physically affectionate with Gary on a daily basis, but the moment he turns to her for genuine comfort, she bolts out of the room, always gets me laughing. I guess it evens out, because Betty passed out in front of him once, yelling about her heart and clutching her chest, and Gary just covered his ears and screamed that the world was falling apart sdklfj. My babies.

I talk about this all the time, but Gary and Betty also have some fantastic scenes in early episode scripts that were cut from the final versions, like this gem from "Totally Spaced Out":

I love them.

Also in the early days of planning, the Musical's antagonist was actually Imaginary Gary.

While it's not confirmed that Gary and Betty sing this song since unfortunately there's no full script for the Musical available, just the first song drafts, the lyrics for the OG version of "Get Flappy" remain almost identical to the final and it's said to be sung by "Clown cheerleaders," so it seems likely that this refers to them.

I think about this a lot. I mean, if Gary and Betty are singing while Imaginary Gary reveals himself, the implication is that they found out their boss Flappy Bob was actually a 5-year-old in disguise who came out to them as an imaginary friend and they were like "Yeah, that's cool with us." For obvious reasons I don't treat the Imaginary Gary plot as canon in my 'fics, but like... They accepted him. Man.

Like... I can never express how much I enjoy the BFF dynamic that is "I'll keep working here even though our boss is 5 and imaginary, I'll run away to Mexico with you, I'll run a business with you when our boss skips town, I'll catch you when you jump in my arms, but if you want genuine comfort then BOI I'm walkin' out." Betty sdjklf

On that note, I feel like something does need to be said about Gary seeking comfort from Betty when scared and her response is "But I don't like you like that!" She obviously felt like she needed to clarify that and I have so many questions about their relationship. Ignoring for a moment the obvious need to transition to a new scene, it's just not a good look for Gary that Flappy felt the need to chase them and mediate. Is Gary okay. Does he need to be held. My son.

Anyway Gary and Betty have my heart and they know it- they fascinate me and I love them very dearly. I feel bad for the fact that literally every fanfic scene I've put them in is just a horrible downward spiral of their relationship and sanity; I'm pretty sure I've never actually been nice to them, and honestly that's terrible slkdjf

Foop will be ranked at the top of my fave characters for forever and a day. He's just a messed up little sweetheart ping-ponging between being socially awkward in school, hanging out with his loser friends, and struggling against the desire to consume the world in a black hole. He's just struggling so hard and there's, like... no one giving him actual help and it's heartbreaking, but also you don't feel too bad for him because he also has a healthy social life and he's doing okay.

There are something like... 5 or so episodes where you can see Foop's alternate personality take over and I'm just happy that the alt personality thing wasn't pushed as a reason for his destructive behavior. The alter is focused on a little when Foop is freshly out of solitary confinement, comes up again when he's going to school, but all the other appearances are a lot more subtle and just showcased in later episodes by Foop getting that extra highlight in his eyes and gushing over things ("Oh, goody! I found a spot on my body where I wasn't bitten by a spider!" which... isn't the same way Foop speaks when he's in pain any other time in the series, because usually when he's hurt, he'll moan, grump, or panic). It is interesting to me.

Anyway I'm just very happy that the alter wasn't a one-episode gag "played for laughs" who then got thrown aside like nothing happened. Rather, the alter features majorly in two episodes (or three if you want to make an argument for "Terrible Twosome"), then quietly becomes part of Foop's character in a few episodes after that.

We saw extremely valid reasons for where this alter came from. Foop was locked in solitary confinement from the day he was born, developed claustrophobia, accidentally yeeted himself into an alternate dimension for an unconfirmed amount of time while the timestream was frozen for 50 years, and although there's a certain humor in his alternate personality (like when said alter rigged the class president vote for the wrong person) there's also just... this quiet melancholy to the whole experience, this very legitimate childhood trauma that Foop is recovering from... Yikes.

Also this comes later in his life, but he also experienced other fun childhood events such as being tortured with magical shocks while trying to escape a bully and also that one time in Season 8 when the Fairy Council ripped him out of reality. Foop is not okay.

Anyway, Foop's alter is there for him while he adjusts to life outside of solitary confinement and again when he starts a stressful first day of school, and after that he becomes a smaller aspect of Foop's attitude that you can still see in later episodes when he's stressed. Like yknow, that time he literally saw the Grim Reaper and got told how he'll die, I also would probably struggle emotionally with that.

Foop is great- he'll bribe you to spare his life with a dollar bill and he'll still ask if he can keep the change. Disaster child. He's a struggling little kid who's struggling with massive amounts of trauma and doesn't seem to have much of a relationship with his parents. At least Anti-Wanda packs anti-venom in his Kelly Clarkson lunchbox, so I'm glad they're on good terms. Overall, Foop is such a goofy character with a harsh backstory, a difficult family life, a criminal record, and high political expectations and he's also a bad boy evil genius, so like... He's the best kind of character type. But he also has silly subplots where he spends hours TP'ing a house because he forgot he had magic (twice), he loves making prank phone calls, and he freaks out when Crocker doesn't invite him to a party. His dialogue is always fantastic and I really enjoy when he's onscreen.

The downward spiral of his mental state when being tortured with lightning and forced to team up with Vicky in "Scary Godcouple" to the point that he stops caring about anything, straight-up ready to let her kill Poof even though he'll ALSO die just... Man. Hits hard. This happens after "Timmy's Secret Wish" where Foop was violently yanked out of reality. He already ceased to exist once and begged for life again, and then the forced team-up with Vicky happens and he just... can't. He can't.

He screams and begs and finally surrenders to it all, right up until seconds before Poof dies. Finally he lashes out at Vicky and blasts her with magic, gets tortured because of it... This boy is not okay. My man be STRUGGLING. And then the fact that he had to face Vicky AGAIN in "Certifiable Super Sitter" and he just did not trust her for a single second... ouch. The emotional arc of Foop saying "Ooh, I really like her :D!" in his first encounter with Vicky to Foop throwing himself in front of her chainsaw to save Chloe in their last...... Love that.

The Crocker / Dark Laser / Foop friendship is important to me. I just want Foop to have adults in his life who care at least a little about his well-being. He has very few people to turn to... Chloe made him cry with a hug, the boy struggles so hard with healthy affection. He might be a destructive force of chaos but he's also just baby.

I also just really like Foop's dialogue; he's this posh British boy genius who will get extremely worked up about how "For the record, if he HAD thrown a lightning bolt, it would have been done in protest over being asked to participate in this candy-coated farce that you call theater!" but he's also like 5 so he'll just groan about how things are "Super lame" and it's adorable. He has a certain twang to his speech where he'll "spit" these single-word sentences like "Wow" and "REALLY?" and "SERIOUSLY!?!?" and I just find him both refreshing and easy to write. He's so loud and so very cute.

This kid literally runs around on the playground eating poisonous spiders while trying to pick up girls by comparing them to potassium chloride, he'll also distract his teacher by pointing at the window and yelling "A van of rich single men!!" where else can I go to experience this character type, he's the best. He booked a restaurant for Cosmo and Wanda at a black hole. When will I ever be this funny.

Also I cry over the fact that Foop corrected Goldie every time she called him by the wrong name - from the day she came to class to the day they held the play - until he finally screams that his name "isn't that difficult!" and honestly just the fact that he had to deal with that is interesting to me. Goldie knew Poof's name, she memorized her lines in a play... there's no way she "forgot" his name. She was doing that on purpose. In his debut, Foop made it clear multiple times that he hates his name, but he also stood up for himself when misnamed. Love that.

It's also extremely funny that in "Spellementary School," Foop reveals he's never been able to understand anything Poof says and he just has to guess all the time, yet he's also shown to be extremely accurate in recognizing when Poof is grumpily agreeing with him, arguing with him, or straight-up swearing at him and I love that about their relationship. The scene in "Two and a Half Babies" where Foop assures Poof that he can be trusted because he's "not a pathological liar" and Poof just looks at him sadly and says "Poof poof" and Foop backpedals with "You're right, I am; I lied about that" is v funny to me.

Nonverbal popular kid and the boy who needs someone to talk to for the absolute win. They are bonded for life... Good luck, Poof.

I also really like Poof, especially in "Love Triangle" when he screws Foop over by making him take over as understudy and then he just eats popcorn while Foop fumbles around onstage. Comedy gold. Poof is sweet and forgiving, but he's also a straight-up savage and he knew EXACTLY what he was doing. Love him for that. As good as he is, he still has that wild streak the same way that Foop has a secret soft spot for people. Poof doesn't mean to cause trouble except for the times when he definitely DOES mean to cause trouble and it's hilarious.

Poof has a certain "looks like a cinnamon roll, but could kill you" vibe. He's this kindhearted little boy who's very cautious and sweet and you can just imagine what a little gentleman he'll be when he grows up. I love how the first thing he did when he met Chloe was tip his crown at her, the sweetheart.

He'll jump into new adventures. He'll play along. He'll help you out. Yet while all of this is going on, you can see how when he's scolded - either when it's being scolded for "not forgiving people after they try to destroy you" or Timmy yelling that getting them both stuck in a spider's web is all his fault or even just Wanda telling him to calm down because he was getting so worked up when he was unable to articulate what he wanted to say......

Poof doesn't know how to stand up for himself in those situations. He holds himself to this standard of respecting authority even when he's overworked to the point of exhaustion. When he was assigned as godparent to Mrs. Crocker, he went into it with a good attitude but came home wiped out. Didn't voice a single complaint. Just exhausted. Didn't know what to say.

Meanwhile, Foop will flip the heck out if you accuse him of anything and I really enjoy that... Here are two counterparts, and you've got one kid who struggles to speak up so he usually just keeps his head down, and then you've got Captain Overshare who will outright lie and throw blame on other people and it's just... nice to see the personalities of two opposite creatures truly be opposite like that.

There's definitely something to be said about how when Poof finally started talking in sentences, it was while dueling Crocker in a magic fight. The poor kid had been been begging for others to step in and get Crocker out of Spellementary School for two days. No one was there for him. Poof got backed in a corner and had no choice but to challenge Crocker himself. Kid got blasted with magic lightning, slammed into a wall twice, and finally pushed himself off the floor and stood up for himself. Good on ya, kiddo. He WILL get in a physical fight to protect himself or others, but if he's in a situation where he needs to say "Hey, I'm struggling with this assignment" or "No, I'd rather not hug the guy who tried to kill me last time we met" then oh heck no, absolutely not, he'd rather die skldfj.

Poof finally spoke and the second sentence out of his mouth was "Your plan to absorb all the magic from my friends and Foop has failed" slkdfj. Tell us how you really feel. And then after Foop apologized for a lifetime spent trying to kill him, Poof still tried to extend the hand of friendship, my heart...

Also, the dynamic of "I blatantly do not like Foop, but I tolerate him because he's my cousin / counterpart / classmate" is very funny. Poof doesn't usually go out of his way to hurt Foop, but he absolutely sits back to watch Foop create problems for himself. If Foop launches a spiked ball at him, he'll fling it right back at him instead of eliminating it. He also accidentally pushed Foop into a garbage can one time and chose to leave him there instead of helping him. Love that.

Poof's great, I love his vibe. He's neither a brat nor a goody-goody... He's just this shy little kid who was born a celebrity and has to deal with everything that comes with that, like attracting a crowd of friends at school and being nominated class president. He's sweet with a streak of mischief... He'll go along with a plan to steal Cupid's arrows, he'll eat all your brownies, and he'll also eat 11 pounds of chocolate just because he wants it. He has his share of chaos, but he's a lot more thoughtful and controlled about it than Foop is. Needlessly dramatic and likes doing things with a flair <3

Woo... This post became much longer than intended, yikes. I'll wrap it up, but Juandissimo, Kevin, Norm, Crocker, Ed Leadly, Chester, A.J., Elmer, Sanjay, Binky, Jorgen, and Dr. Rip Studwell, are all such fantastic characters too, just to name a few off the top of my head. There's a special place in my heart for Chet Ubetcha, Mr. Bickles, Schnozmo, Chloe, Molly, Dark Laser, Cosmo, Wanda, Anti-Cosmo, Anti-Wanda, Blonda, Schnozmo, Remy, Mama Cosma, Big Daddy, and Sammy Sweetsparkle too. And Timmy himself, but I think that goes without saying.

So many funky dudes; I love them so much...

¿Headcanons from an alternate universe where succubi are humans in the human world and their s/o is a demon? I need to read about them being submissive to a higher being 👀👀👀

Human! Succubi with an demon s/o

Verosika

Shes skeptical until you show her your demon form. Then she’s beyond fucking amazed. She’s been dating a demon!

She want to show you off to the world, you’re one of a kind, literally! She jokes about how she doesn’t need a bodyguard now, she’s got you!

She has you go around in your true form on Halloween to scare all her friends. “Oh that looks so real, where’d you get it?” “Did you make it yourself?” She always laughs at the responses

She respects your power but still acts like she’s the stronger one. She can be intimidating from time to time

Josh

There’s a moment where he’s laughing thinking you’re joking, then you show him and he panics. Have you been a demon all along? So wait you’re dead? Is it legal to date a dead person??

You assure him you aren’t a reanimated corpse and he calms down a bit, though he’s scared of what you could do

He wants to know all about your past life, what was it like? How old where you when you died? Did...you two know each other while you were living?

He wonders why you ever would come back, aren’t there millions of options in Hell? Do...you like him more than the demons? Or are you keeping him for a sacrifice?

Coco

She doesn’t need to see you’re demon form, she believes you. Why would you lie about that kind of thing, what would you have to gain from it?

She is concerned though, this means you died at some point, probably violently given you’re in hell. Do you remember it? Do you want to talk about it?

She worries how you’ll be able to maintain a relationship since you have to stay in hell more often then earth. What if she dies and goes to heaven? Is that it? You’d never see each other again?

She want to help you, you shouldn’t be there, but she doesn’t know what to do, she just tries to avoid and sore subjects

Apple

Oh that’s so cool! Can she see?? She’s all excited, she wants to know everything you ever did as a human and a demon!

Do you like hell? What are the other inhabitants like? Can you die down there? Does this mean heaven is real too?

She’s loaded with questions and doesn’t want to overwhelm you but is just genuinely curious

She notices when you get distressed about certain things and stops, she wants to know but not at your expense

Kat

They are curious, why date a human? Is everyone else down there that boring? They wonder if you chose your firm and if not, how did your body get chosen?

They don’t ask too much, we all die someday, might as well leave some things to figure out on their own right?

They ask if you were truthful about everything you told them, was it all before or after you wound up in hell?

They just want to wrap their head around things but it is admittedly quite a lot to try to understand

Milky

She wants to explore your demon form, how different is it? Is your human disguise real or an illusion?

She’s interested in any horns/wings/tail you have since they are inhuman characteristics and quite interesting

Does your skin feel differently from a humans? She just want to understand you and all demons more

She only touches you if you allow it, she won’t push you into staying in that form if you’re uncomfortable 

Kiki

She doesn’t believe you at first, yeah right, what are the odds she of all people is dating a de-OH SHIT YOU ARE A DEMON

She’s cautious with you like you’re a tiger let out of its cage. You’re so strong and fierce looking as a demon, were you always that strong??

She gloats about the fact she’s dating a demon, you cute wreak an entire city before you get hurt! You’re like having a grizzly bear as a pet!

She loves to see you destroy things with ease, it’s funny how you don’t even have to try to destroy vehicles

Ace

He’s pretty damn strong but you sure put him to shame in comparison. Can humans even get that strong?

He likes having you as a workout partner, you two are like a power couple you both can hold your own and defend each other

Even though you’re so much stronger than him he want to atleast try to protect you, demon or not he loves you

No one messes with him but in you’re human form you get targeted often, so to ensure you don’t have to risking getting outed he defends you

Speaking of Neo Heroes' security guards doing the housekeeping at Badd's house as part of the deal between Badd and Neo Heroes when he joined them, this makes me think:

- "What if redeemed Garou successed at infiltrating Neo Heroes without getting recognized and disguising himself as Badd's guard?" -

This is just pure self-indulging thought because imagine this: Current Garou, the calmer, wiser, matured, yet still powerful as ever, been wanting to return the favor to Badd for defending him in the previous battle and also to protect him from Neo Heroes' shady schemes, he decided to infiltrate Neo Heroes with his new identity and becomes Badd's security guard.

Of course I know this scenario wont be possible at all because of Neo Heroes would investigate everyone to the tiniest details, and some of Neo Heroes members already recognized Garou in canon webcomic just like the whole Suiryu's team squad did. But let's just think they would be fooled by Garou's new persona when he enrolled the job.

Not to mention, let's just assumed enrolling the job as Neo Heroes' staff would be separated from the regular member's employment and many of Neo Heroes' execs haven't familiarized yet with Garou's new appearance.

The setting could be after Garou got ambushed by Suiryu's team and also after Badd got attacked by Neo Heroes' cyborgs, since I think these events occured on the same time or at least at the same week, imho. So, once Garou heard about what happened to the Neo Heroes' members, he got worried for Badd and decided to sorta helped him in a way by become his personal guard.

During the interview, Garou would giving "made up" personal data that wont mentioned any of Bang's influence or everything related to his mentor. During the physical test, he would only using the most basic martial art moves in front of the execs so they wont recognizing his distinct style.

Garou successfully passed the test and get the job, at the same time when Neo Heroes' need a new security guard for Badd since the delinquent hero already kicked out the latest guard from his house for being "too goddamn nosy", courtesy by the furious Badd himself. Badd said he wanted a more decently normal guard and not a creep. That was a great chance for Garou to fill the requirement as his security guard.

Imagine the short-haired Garou wearing a suit like usual bodyguard outfit, looking so neat, professional, and reserved. And he was standing in front of Badd's front door, ready to greet the hero (who saved his life before) then introducing himself as both his new bodyguard and housekeeping guard.

Eventhough from outside Garou looked very calm, actually he was a bit nervous because he would meet Badd again. Unsure if he should be proud that he got a real good job in which he could be by Badd's side, or afraid that Badd would reject him then kick him out from the house just like what he did to other previous guards.

The moment Badd opened the door to scold and complained whoever Neo Heroes stubbornly have sent to him, he got tongue-tied by Garou's appearance. At first Badd still not recognized his identity, but after inspecting him for a few seconds Badd immediately gawked and immediately yanked Garou into the house, closing the door so noone would hear their conversation.

Badd realized that this man, this charming mysterious person, his new bodyguard, is Garou. Garou the ex Hero Hunter, Human Monster, the former enemy who put him into hospital yet also the one whom he protected from the rest of S-Class heroes, the reason why Badd leaving Hero Association, now was standing before him. Introducing himself as Neo Heroes' new security guard who will "keep him and his lil sister" from any danger outside.

Not easily convinced, Badd cornered Garou and asking if Garou has gone crazy for joining Neo Heroes, too. Especially now Badd knew that they were such scumbags disguising themself as saviors.

Garou calmly answered that he already know firsthandly of what Neo Heroes is, also had heard of what they have done to Badd. Hence he became a double agent: working for Neo Heroes to gain their trust so he can protect Badd from anyone, including Neo Heroes members itself since he has the privillege to do that. Of course by doing that, Garou must be smart enough to trick them and manipulated the reports so they wont gain Badd's personal information that was too private to be shared because it could endangered Badd's life.

Garou doesn't care if this could endanger himself should Neo Heroes realizing his true intention. As long as Badd is safe, he wont give a fuck for all of Neo Heroes' bullshits again. Nobody would hurt Badd any longer, let the delinquent hero do his job properly without any disturbance.

Badd was surprised at how far Garou willing to do for the sake of him, but he still wont convinced enough of him because at this point it seems Badd couldn't trust people anymore since the Hero Association's post-war chaos and Neo Heroes' cyborgs assault.

Garou knows Badd got trust issue because of them, same as what Garou feels after all this time. Wanted to reassure Badd, Garou kneeled before Badd and vowed to him, that he definitely will keep Badd and Zenko safe at all cost. If something wrong happened between Badd and him that makes he should betray Badd, Badd has the full rights to punish him severely and he wont fights Badd back. His life is fully on Badd's hand and not Neo Heroes'. With pleasure, Garou pledged his loyalty just for Badd only. Only him.

Garou ended his vow by taking Badd's hand and kissed his knuckles softly. Then he gave Badd such tender genuine smile with equally tender adoring gaze, because for Garou this man in front of him is his "Hero". Now he would return the favor by cherishing Badd and make him happy.

Listening Garou's vow and receiving sweet gestures from him made Badd flustered, he didn't expect that the ex Hero Hunter who hunted him down would be willing to be his loyal guard. Even swore to cherish him. That's more than a regular guard should do to their client!

Badd had thought he didn't deserved to be treated so nicely like this since he was just doing what he thinks is right. Also he wasn't often getting praised at all by people hence he still hasn't used by it. But seeing how genuine and determinated Garou is, somehow it warms Badd's heart. That Garou really appreciating him to the point he wanted to return the favor, in which Garou didn't have to do that yet he still do it out of free will.

Finally, Badd accepting Garou's offer and trusted him to do his job as his bodyguard. Like Garou has promised before, if someday Garou has to betray his trust, Badd will not hesitated to demolish the wolfman. Monster form or not.

With a bright yet soothing smile, Badd helped Garou to stand up again from his kneeling position and then hugged him tightly.

And saying, "Welcome home, Garou".

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

Bonus headcanon:

Imagine how often Garou gets Badd blushing madly just by appearing as professional bodyguard, so handsome and charming. Not to mention now Garou showing more responsible and mature side of him that put Badd in awe everytime Garou doing his job properly. Sometimes it distracted Badd's mind and every single memories of the wolfman being so sweet and loving to him lives in his head rent free.

Also, Zenko totally adores Garou and really glad that he wasn't like those creepy bodyguards that Badd had to kick out before. More often Zenko asked Garou to be more casual and to treat Badd more as a friend and not as a client, since she told Garou that her bigbro loves his presence especially when both of them were off-duty at home.

Gradually, Garou becomes more laid-back around Badd (except when he was on-duty or still under Neo Heroes' surveillance). They're eventually becomes bestfriends, completing and complementing eachother since they both were alone and lonely boys.

Secretly without Neo Heroes' knowledge, Garou has been helping Badd to cope with his doomed situation under Neo Heroes' cruel scheme by finally having someone trusted enough on his side when he need it, as he will be always on Badd's side no matter what. Even as far manipulated the daily reports brilliantly so Neo Heroes wont touch Badd with their dirty hands anymore. Anything Garou will do, for Badd.

In return, Badd wont let anyone to hurt Garou again, even if it's Neo Heroes itself. The ex Hero Hunter has already suffered enough. Badd would try his best to cooperate with Garou so they both could make convincing "false reports" while they enjoyed their secret private life together. If someone from Neo Heroes found out what they have done, Badd worried if Garou would be taken away from him. Or worst, gets a fate worse than death. And Badd doesn't want that happens.

On the brighter side, Garou could spend time together most of the time with. Even living with Badd as a privillege of his bodyguard status and Badd's seal of approval to the Neo Heroes execs (so they would let Garou lives together with him, for "surveillance" reason).

Sometimes Garou also assisting Badd in a battle when he was still on bodyguard duty, ensuring Badd wont be too reckless during fighting the enemies. If Badd was injured, Garou was the first one who reacted and immediately taking care of him at home, or bringing him to the nearest hospital if the injuries were quite heavy and need proper medical treatment.

Imagine Garou bridal-carried Badd towards hospital. Badd was actually unconscious at first, but when he regained his consciousness the first thing he saw was Garou's handsome face with those seriously worried expression. That made Badd swooning because: 1. "Why did Garou has to be THIS gorgeous even in pinch situation like this??"; 2. "But he cares so much to me, this strangely makes me happy in some way..";

Then Badd pretended to be passed out in Garou's arms, just so he can peek on Garou's face. Spoiler: Garou knows it the entire time, but he let Badd enjoyed the scenery while he focused on running to hospital.

Imagine the off-duty Badd walking around the town together with Garou. Or going to family picnic with Zenko and Garou has to "keep on eye" on them (when in fact Garou just having fun together with them as it's just a false report for the Neo Heroes execs, Neo Heroes surveillance be damned).

Maybe somewhere in the future, Badd would finally releasing himself from Neo Heroes' grasp and decided to be vigilante, followed by Garou who rebelled against Neo Heroes since his loyalty is only for Badd. Noone can stop them as vigilante duo. Maybe at that point, one of them would confessed their feeling to the other and then they would become lovers, too..

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---- THE END -----

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Notes:

NO THOUGHT HEAD EMPTY, ONLY GAROU WEARING BODYGUARD SUITS *hyperventilated* 😍😩👌💗💘🔥🔥

This was totally self-indulged headcanon where I want short-haired Garou wears some formal outfits and being a Cool Looking Guy™ who is secretly as powerful as monster. I'm thirsty for any short-haired Garou contents (and also him being together with Badd), forgive me for this outrageously messy writing.. 😅🙏

But honestly, if Garou really showed up at Badd's door as his bodyguard that would be very hilarious lmaoo! Btw I wrote this at 4 AM and now it's already 7 AM by the time I finished, lol. Getting not enough sleep go brrr 😜

So, how was it, guys? Did you enjoyed it? I'm so sorry if it wasn't good enough 😳💦👉👈

@hiro-gari @the-goddessfighter @garous-nipple @jusqu-une-etudiante

Thank you so much for reading this headcanon, guts! I will try to fight off my writer's block and depression, hopefully I can get back on writing more stuff in the future. Wish me luck ✌😁

Have a nice weekend, guys! Love you all~ 😎😘💕💞💖💝🌸🌺🌼🌻🌷💐

-Little1993lamb-

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~Lilia:

Yessss dude I’m here for this!! Finally he’s got a job that suits him :’) And oh yeahhhh Garou dressed as a bodyguard 🥴 pleeease it would be such a look for him👌😩 bet he pops the collar a bit tho

I love how Badd is like ??hello these guys are scumbags, wtf are you doing, and Garou’s like 🤷 that’s why I’m here, duh. What a sweetheart agshsjsks

I irl clutched my chest when he got down on one knee!! awwwe 🥺💖 The fact that he went to such lengths has to speak for itself as well, I mean Badd knows how much he hates heroes, but especially morally corrupt ones with ulterior motives 🙄BROOO and Badd’s acting all professional and slightly suspicious and Zenko’s just coming out and telling Garou how it really is 😂😂 That’s perfect omg

I love this alternate webcomic version so much 💗 What happened to Badd is so heartbreaking 😓 so it’s very nice to see Garou’s using his mischievous tactics for good to help him get through it and support him 😩 *sobbing*

Thank you so much for sharing this with all of us!! It’s beautifully creative and sweet 💕💗💖😚 We love youu~

Random Angsty Things About John Hancock - Fallout 4 Headcanons

He has a habit he was taught by one of the more elderly ghouls when he was younger in Diamond city. He was told to at least do three selfless acts a day. At the time he laughed it off, joking that if he did that he would end up with nothing. However, as time went on the comment stuck with him, and he realised that his initial reaction was almost a complete copy of his parents' rants and preaches about the people not in the stands. As his relationship decreased with his family, the more the ghouls messaged haunted him. When he started going to Goodneighbour was when he acted on this, starting with giving away chems to those who wanted to share the high. Or steal food from his family to even sharing safe ways to get by. Due to this he made friends pretty quickly, and these were the people that fought by him to get rid of Vic. Now that he is the Mayor of Goodneighbour he tries to do as many selfless deeds as he can without being too generous, from offering chems, food, shelter and protections. When he became mayor he travelled to one of the safe places he led the ghouls from Diamond city, however he found out that the elderly ghoul had been killed by raiders

When he was closer to the ghoul families in Diamond city than to his own family. They would take him in and let him stay with them when he would have fallen out with his family.  This helped him see ghouls as his equal and see them as the same as humans and made him stand out from the prejudice surrounding him in the stands.

He knew Nick Valentine when he first arrived in Goodneighbour. He didn't talk to Valentine at first, due to his family very much not wanting anyone of them to associate with him. Plus Valentine seemed to always find him when he was trying to sneak out of town or do something against the rules. Valentine did snitch to his parents and did take his chems from him or block up entrances to sneak out. In his mind Hancock knew that he meant well and was trying to protect him. However after hearing about the broken mask incident he was always unsettled with synths. Years later, they will be pleasant to each other but to each other as the troublemaker and the snitch. His views on synths however have lessened with him allowing the railroad to operate at Goodneighbour from time to time. 

He had a girl he was pretty serious with when he was younger, and before he had turned himself into a ghoul. He met her while he was sneaking out into the Goodneighbour. He wanted to marry her someday and even promised with a simple metal ring which he put on a necklace. People remembered them as inseparable trouble makers.  However after a few years of dating, Hancock's drug habit had started causing him to behave differently from how he normally acted and in her eyes become more unstable. So one day he woke up to find the necklace on a note with the simple message “Goodbye, I wish we could be more. But we won't. Don't come find me”. He went out to find her anyway. But couldn't. He keeps the ring on him, and he hasn't been able to have a stable and long running relationship since. When Fahrenheit arrived in Goodneighbour years later looking like his past lover with his eyes he had his suspicions. However it was never brought up between the two of them, and she mentioned a distaste for her family, saying Goodneighbour was her ‘new’ family which she would protect.

His relationship with his family had always been negative, with his brother being the one he trusted the most until he ran for mayor. As much as his brother pushed him around, they did used to have each other back, with the both of them getting into fights at the dugout for each other. His parents however always found a way to blame any trouble on him, seeing McDonough as  the golden child. Hancock was reminded of this regularly. So to run away from this, he started chems when he was 15.  Originally he just bought them from Diamond city sellers. But when his brother found out he was, his family stopped any seller from selling them to him. This started his journeys to Goodneighbour.

Due to being  a chem user for many years there are a few side effects that he suffered with before and after. Before he turned himself into a ghoul - His skin always seemed irritated, and he would constantly have scratch marks on arms, shoulders and his side. He was always slightly nauseous with food always tasting bitter and an iron taste always lingering. He also would have weak visible hallucinations. After his transformation, His skin became so callous that he doesn't feel it when someone touches his shoulder or would hold his hands. His visions became stronger to the top where he would sometimes see his old reflection in the mirrors around the old state house. There are no more there due to them being punched through or having something thrown at them. His senses also heightened with smells being stronger, noises loader, and even the smallest movements being easier to spot in his peripheral vision. He also suffers from paranoia so will always have some form of weapon near him and will engage in a hostile tone if he thinks a person wants to start a fight. 

Hancock is smarter than he lets on. He still reads, more to past time, or to ignore a hangover or the nauseous feeling of a low, and is pretty skilled at chess and anything to do with strategy. He enjoys cat and mouse games if he gets to control a fight and in general is a skilled leader when it comes to planning and coordinating people. He is just as good with his words if he thinks violence wont work and is quick enough to read a situation to know the mood before following through  However, he does like to learn new things when possible, and will try and learn skills  from the people of Goodneighbour if he can, disguise him learning with him stating him being bored and trying to ride a high commenting he might forget what they say the next day. He even knows how to work some of the machinery in the memory den, and perform medical aid to those who OD or get injured. Only few know how smart he actually is, with his charming and no fucks given personality a great disguise.

I'm sorry for the angst but idk why but honestly he is one of my fav companions fo4 wise next to Nick and Maccready.  I hope you guys enjoy the ideas though and comment if you have any more :) I apologise for spelling error, I am horrible at spell checking. If anyone has an imagines or reactions from fallout 3-4 or new Vegas just comment or send a request. Hope you all enjoy and have an amazing day -Love you all <3 

Angel of Death - Simeon x F! Reader

You stood there admiring the field of flowers in heaven, in awe with the picturesque view. Simeon stood there behind you, his mask of calmness cracked a little more the longer he stood watching you. Tightly gripped behind him was the holy scythe, yet to him it was cursed. Once the directives were given, he is unable to stop the scythe from filling his head with instructions. He used to think of nothing about it, that it was merely God's will. However, now those words fill his heart with nothing but dread. ~ "Simeon, Heaven's Gardener. Please proceed to enter Father's chambers" He stepped into the chamber. It was a very spacious room with white marble walls supported by gold pillars; its high ceiling reflected the stars, constellations as well as the universe itself. The guards announced his presence to Him. Walking to the grand throne, he bowed to Father, his right hand upon his heart. "What do you need of me today?" His eyes were downcast as a sign of respect. Since here was no one else in the room, he knows what He had been called for. "Simeon, here is the list for today." A scroll containing the names of humans floated in front of Simeon. Yes, this list contained the names of those who will die before their proper time. Whether it due to sickness, accidents or even a victim of crime. He was assigned to deal with them all. Simeon doesn't know how they will die, but it does not matter anyway. Those who were in this list were chosen by Him to sit on His altar, a great honour. They are worthy due to their purity and/or kindness that they have shown throughout their short life. Not many angels actually know of his position, as the angel of death, not even Luke. But those who do know wouldn't dare cross with the dark-skinned angel. They keep themselves silent for death is something unknown to them and they fear it. However, because of Simeon's angelic behaviour even those who know of his special position brushed it away and thought nothing of it after a few years. Simeon unfurled the scroll and right before his eyes, letters burned themselves on the holy paper. Names, age, occupation; every detail he ever needed would be printed there. The holy markings beneath his black gloves shined bright, signifying the job has been accepted. A golden line forms in front of Simeon, showing him the way to the chosen human that He called to His side. Simeon gave Him a final bow before he setting off to collect those souls. Using his pure white wings, he flew down to the human realm, following the line. He disguised himself in the human world, going by many names in order to do his job. It wasn't the easiest job in the world. He had to observe their sufferings; be with them during their final moments yet doing nothing that might hinder his work. ~ Of all places, Simeon could have chose, he chose here, his beautiful flower garden. He truly had a green thumb for all the flowers he grew in the vast field were exuberant as if they have a life of their own. It was fitting for the title, Heaven's Gardener and much like cutting the stems of plants, he too cut the lives of people. It should be normal but why does his heart falters. Why is his throat dry? It's simple, he always does this. So why was it so hard to even unsheath the scythe? ~ This was his 100th soul for today, a newborn baby. The handsome angel stretched out his arms as the golden threads from his markings formed a gleaming golden scythe. He plunged the weapon into the heart of the baby and it began extracting it's soul. The physical body is unharmed of course for the scythe could only be used for souls. The tip of the scythe was to break the barrier of the body which encases the soul to allow it to be extracted by the gleaming weapon. The baby was already dying due to an infection there was nothing anyone could do. A bowed head and a silent prayer, that is all he could offer to the grieving parents. He felt his heart becoming weary. He was tired of seeing such heart breaking scenes. But a job is a job, and this particular one doesn't have a candidate to replace him. Who would want this job after all? He would give anything for someone to take this burden. But then again, he would feel sorry for the poor angel which took over. So, might as well, he carry this burden alone. He was resting on top of a high rise building when his D. D. D. rang. He thought it might be a call from Luke or even, Satan but he was pleasantly surprised to hear your voice. He placed the phone at his ear to hear you better. You chuckled. "Simeon.... this is a video call..." Your amused voice brightened up his day immediately. He really didn't now how to use these gadgets but he's learning. "So, what do I do?" He asked innocently. "You just look at the screen like you usually do. So you can see me." "Like this?" He looked at the screen to see the face of the light of his life staring back at him. His smile widened at the instant he saw you. You looked as elegant as ever. Both of you exchanged words and smiles and soon it was time for Simeon to continue with his work. "Don't forget our date tomorrow." "I wouldn't miss it for the world." The words in his head which were silent throughout the exchange, suddenly spoke up. "It's her." Simeon was taken aback. What ever could those voices mean? He checked his scroll again. Written in black letters, he saw your name there in the last column. He couldn't believe it. How could this happened? He tried to rub it with his thumb, thinking that it will smudge or be erased but it was still there. How could this be? He tried using his feathered pen to strike your name off but the paper seemed to absorb any liquid. In a last bid attempt, he tore the paper but it was futile. The paper regenerated and place itself upon his palms once more, as if nothing happened. The holy markings on his arms burned brightly as if he was branded by red hot iron, a warning. The words in his head blared loudly. He can't disobey the order. He had to kill you. ~ He had always wanted to bring you to his favourite place, but not like this. Why must it be this way? "Simeon?" She looked worriedly at him, her eyes reflected his. "Is everything alright?" His tears were on the edge of his eyelids. Why must she die? He knew that she would go someday but ... "Simeon... I know things can be hard but whatever it is, I will always be with you. Even if you wouldn't confide in me on the matter." She embraced him as if she wanted to drive away the sadness. She wanted to be there for him. However, that sweet gesture only caused his heart to sink further into the soil. How could he drive the scythe into her? ~ Simeon will never tell you how happy he was when you confessed to him. With bright red cheeks and tightly shut eyelids, you said those words, the words where he had heard humans speak a million times yet it was somehow endearing to know that those words were meant solely for him. The moonlight of Devildom had cast a soft glow upon your features. Oh how happy she had looked when he said yes. Her eyes gleamed, telling him of her happiness which could not be formed by words. He chuckled at her infectious enthusiasm. As their lips met for a short yet sweet kiss, he wished nothing more for her happiness and longevity. How could his past self forgive him for what he was about to do? ~ Despite being with the 7 brothers, she was not tainted. Her smile was infectious. Her laugh was genuine. Her flaws made her more endearing than she already is. He thought to himself "Of course, they had to take the most beautiful flower in the garden." The difference is only that this time the flower was you. The returned your warm hug. It would be only a few minutes more till his markings completely take over the function of his arms but until then he wanted to savour this last moment with you. "I'm sorry. I truly love you. Forgive... me," He kissed her forehead as his hands plunged the weapon deep into her soul. The extraction had begun. She had only but a few seconds left. Her face contorted to one of surprise and pain. Due to the extraction process, he could see into her heart in his mind as they were temporarily connected. He could see her pain, her shock. He expected her to hate him; resent him but what he saw next shook his core. As her eyes met him, her heart reflected forgiveness and appreciation along with the thousand memories they made together. He is killing her but yet those clear eyes showed no ill feeling towards her betrayer. How he wished that she would curse him; be mad at him. It was the right thing to feel. She shouldn't forgive him at all. Then, he understood that she had truly loved the gardener. She was so happy that her feelings were reciprocated by him. She cupped his dark skinned cheeks gently, making sure that he would hear her last words. "I knew my life was too good to last. Thank you for everything Simeon." Her lips met his for one final goodbye. "Thank you for being with me. I'm glad that fate brought us together." How can she say that when fate was separating them? How could she be so optimistic? He wanted to ask her but her body had turned cold. Her eyes closed ever so gently. The process was complete. The sounds in his head ceased. The holy weapon disintegrated, signalling the end of his job. There, in Heaven's Garden, the flower fell gently to the ground. There was a slight pain at the placed she was plucked but she knew that it would be temporary. She knew who had pluck her yet she still bloomed wholeheartedly for that person, the light of her life, for the last time. With a dying breath, her soft petals grazed the lips of the immortal gardener. Her beautiful earthly form was unscarred yet it was missing that shine which made her truly special. Her ethereal form or also known as her soul, would only glow. She can no longer talk to him nor touch him, much like a plastic flower. Everlasting but devoid of life, merely being there like an accessory. No longer the love of his life that he had given his heart to. Screaming apologies to the wind, the angel clutched the flower tightly to his heart. His most prized flower whom he had watched over so tenderly needed to be presented to Him. He wanted her so. The poor gardener of the Celestial Realm had to comply; no matter how much he loved his precious beloved flower. The flower which bloomed so breathtakingly, solely for him. He traced his thumb over the delicate petals one last time. His angelic tears wetting it. He wanted the flower to do something, say something, give any indication that might give him any hope. If she'd move, he'd throw everything away for her. However, the flower had been plucked and no matter how much water he supplied to the flower, she was already dead from the moment her life force was separated from its stem. The only thing Simeon could do was cradle the flower in his arms before he needed to present the flower. He was to place her on the altar of God where there she shall forever remain by His side, where she will bloom eternally. Every day the gardener would bring the most beautiful flowers to put at God's altar. Sometimes a daisy, sometimes a rose to accompany the flower. At times, he would even arranged them into beautiful bouquets, knowing that if she were still alive, she would love them. She loved anything that he did after all. He would even occasionally strike a conversation with the flower even if he knew in his heart she will never reply. He imagined her voice, her laughter, her warmth through memories but they were merely that. It can never be compared with her living and breathing by his side. He could only dream of her on the other side of the ethereal glass. If by chance, you managed to go up to God's altar, please do keep a lookout for the dark-skinned gardener and his flower. You'll notice his gaze softly follow the flower, endlessly yearning for her as she glows upon the celestial altar forever. ~ Extra:- "Father, why must she die?" The archangel Michael, questioned Him. "It is the law of nature. Every human will perish one day." Michael knew that He had deliberately done this. The archangel had caught a glimpse of her before. She was to live a long life. He only questioned because he wanted to hear the truth. He pitied Simeon who is now almost like an empty shell of the cheerful person he once was. Maybe He didn't want any more angel to follow the path of the 7 brothers but the way He carried it out was ruthless. Micheal could only look on at the two star-crossed lovers who were mercilessly parted by the hands of cruel fate. ~In a field full of flowers, which do you pick first? The most beautiful ones are the ones which will be picked first. ~

~ Yun ~

Hope you guys enjoy it. 

Extra information. What I thought for God's Altar was like a glass wall, where only the most purest souls are inside. These souls won't be reborn anymore because they have said to reach the final stage of purity. The souls usually look like a glowing golden orb but sometimes they flicker and you can see the final form that they took before they managed to get in there. They are silent and unmoving. No one managed to go in nor has any soul managed to escape. Only He can place the soul in there. Once he puts them in, there is no way of taking them out. In any case, if the wall gets destroyed, all those souls will be destroyed as well. That is why not even the brothers took action.

What Humans Are Doing To Pepe Le Pew, Is Added To My Semi-Misanthrope

okay I don’t think I wanted to believe it, but I’m still in the middle of watching the video this video --> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUpm9M45O_s

I’m watching it on the Xbox In the living room, but I just had to pause it and sign on to tumblr to talk about my feelings. 

I was watching some movies before that,

that has a crossover of live action and animation.

I love movies that has crossovers of the real world and cartoon world.

even if Pepe comes on a bit strong to women, maybe both toon and non-toon.

he isn’t as bad as some humans in real life, who have done far worse.

and if it is true that Johnny Bravo will be next, then I will have another thing to add to my Semi-Misanthropy.

I still like humanity, just not when they do stupid and insensitive disgusting things like what they are trying to do to Pepe Le Pew.

lucky there are some humans that know better and those are the ones that I still don’t find disgusting and doing that disgusting act on Pepe.

who by the way is a TOON, not a human.

even if he and some toons like him are “human on the inside”

they are Anthropomorphic.

even if some years decades back, there were such offensive cartoons

that are known as the Banned Cartoons.

but you can’t just mix them in with toons like Pepe Le Pew or even Johnny Bravo.

if the cartoon Johnny Bravo gets hurt in anyway by those so called women,

who think they are helping women by cancelling Johnny Bravo,

their not, and Johnny Bravo might be many things, but at least he doesn’t try to “hurt” women like most attackers do in real life.

  yeah both Pepe and Bravo flirt, and kiss the toon females in their cartoons,

BUT they do not cross the line into what some disgusting humans do in real life.

so don’t go and blame those self proclaim gift to women/adorkable toon romeos, for how some humans act in real life.

  also please read this too -->  https://www.nbcnews.com/pop-culture/movies/pep-le-pew-scene-removed-space-jam-sequel-actor-says-n1260282

but make sure to watch the video link first.

I have it on pause right now, and I’m still watching it, and I plan to check out the other videos that talk about what is happening to Pepe Le Pew.

then after that, I might just play Bendy And The Ink Machine.

if they wanted to change Pepe, they could of had Pepe end up in some kind of scene where he sings about how he only has eyes for Penelope,

and him ending up not flirting with every pretty face after they started to meet up again, and Pepe gets the realization that he is truly in love with Penelope.

but instead of doing that, they just decide to cut him out.

my fighting for Pepe has nothing to do with my heritage,

like my 23rd Great-Grandfather Philip being from France,

and well he was a very important person back in his time.

but like I said, my fighting for Pepe has nothing to do with one of my heritages.

Pepe deserves better, he is a Toon that should have some rights,

even if he and other toons are fictional, he shouldn’t be cut out of the movie.

 and it seems Warner Bros wont have Pepe appear in anymore future projects  

even if Penelope got a restraining order on Pepe,

for him touching others without their consent, it doesn’t mean he did what most humans have done in real life.

touching, could imply the kissing and touching of the arm or hugging,

not the forbidden zone, he ain’t No Holli Would.

if we want toons to be modernize, don’t just kill them off.

in one of the Looney Tunes Shows, where that new character Tina appeared in,

who I happen to like has Daffy’s new love interest.

Speedy ran his own restaurant and even had a dance studio where he taught other people dancing, he did thought Bugs was a real lady when Bugs was in disguise.

and Pepe he was helping plan Lola and Bugs’s wedding, and he was apparently married many times himself.

yes I can agree that Pepe can be a bit forceful in his smitten affections,

as well as him not being able to take a no for a answer.

plus if you watched any re-run of his cartoons,

you will see that he gets his karma by the shoe being on the other foot,

and he becomes the scared and running away from the lovesick female cat.

so how come no one is fighting for Pepe when he ends up being the one who tries to get away from the lovesick female...?

he wasn’t the only one who locked the door so the one he was trying to chase after couldn’t escape.

if you watch one of the re-run cartoons that has that episode,

it is the female cat who locks the door so Pepe couldn’t escape.

so how come Pepe when he ends up in the shoes/place of the females he tries to win the love of (even if it is in the wrong way) he doesn’t get people who tell him it’s okay, and he isn’t the only guy who went through such a terrible thing?

I don’t believe that Looney Tunes would go so far in their show of aggressive affection.

Pepe and Johnny might be many things, like not being able to take a No,

and tend to hug or kiss gals without consent,

but they are not the “R” word.

if toons have to get modernize, they shouldn’t be hurt like how Pepe is being hurt right now.

some cartoons aren’t for kids, and it should be the parents or guardians responsibility to keep the kids from seeing mature cartoons, or some mature live action/cartoon crossover type movies with mature themes in them,

until they are the proper ages to watch them.

I also want to say that I hope that someday the Cartoon Network’s name

is changed to “Warnertoon Network” because technically the Cartoon Network is linked to Warner Bros.

there is a old short, that is even shown on Youtube,

that shows Johnny Bravo having some form of attraction to Samurai Jack.

even if it could show some form of proof that Johnny isn’t as hetero as he appears in his cartoons, and his interaction with Jack shows that he might be either bi or pan, but not realize it.

it might not truly stop Johnny being the next victim.

I am not a feminist or feminism, even if there are some positive groups that are still fighting for women and girls rights.

I rather be a part of a Androgyny side, it could still fight for Feminine.

but it can be a group for both Female, Male, Andro-Agender, Gyno-Agender, Agender, any form of Binary and Non-Binary.

yes there can still be jerk guys who still think girls are beneath them.

but a guy should only feel that way, if the said girls are being sexist jerks,

and the same goes for girls who are treated the same way, if a guy is being a sexist jerk, then try not to give them power to treat you that way.

even if I know there can be good people in this world,

like friends, family and others.

I can’t agree with what is happening with Pepe Le Pew,

I feel it is wrong and if they have to change Pepe for the modern times,

it should show in Space Jam 2 Movie, that after meeting with Penelope again,

and he finds himself not hitting on other females, because he comes to the realization that he is truly in love with her,

and doesn’t want anyone else but her.

characters do evolve and change over time,

some still stay the same but can still be a bit different.

if they did have a musical in Space Jam 2,

it would have Pepe Le Pew singing about how much he loves Penelope,

and how he no longer wants to chase any other girl

but her from now on.

even if it is still good to fight for rights for women, but Pepe isn’t a monster.

he might kiss and hug without consent, but he would NEVER cross the line.

even if some cartoon episodes might give the misinterpretation he would.

also even if I do have a Semi-Androphobia, I know that not all guys are bad or dangerous, and some can be safe to be around.

plus there can be some guys who have Gynophobia,

which could be caused by different reasons,

one of which could have to do with being a victim of unwanted forbidden zone advances.

and even Mr. Max Landis did do such a disgusting thing,

Pepe should not be some form of scapegoat, 

or be blamed for that disgusting human’s actions.

like I said, Pepe Le Pew and Johnny Bravo might be many things,

but they would NEVER cross the line,

and do what that Shisno Landis  did.

no matter what bio-sex or gender identity you are,

if you believe that Pepe is being wrong, that I hope you can agree that what is happening to him isn’t right.

Pepe might think he can flirt or hug and kiss other gals without their consent,

and think they will fall for him, but he would never do what that Shisno did.

Shisno is of course from Red Vs Blue, and is what A.I. and Robots

call Humans, or in other words, what Organics are called.

even if Tali from Mass Effect does have her positive side,

and she does end up forming some type of friendship with Legion in one of the game timelines.

when she doesn’t form a friendship with Legion or starts to finally realize

that her people did the geth wrong.

she stays a dirty dirty shisno.

at least some quarians didn’t try to destroy the geth,

and wanted to help them, those quarians that did try to help the geth,

aren’t dirty shisno. but those quarians in the past were met with a bad end when they did try to help and protect the geth.

even if I haven’t been able to beat the Mass Effect 3 yet,

I know the info from reading or watching clips about it.

I hope that someone makes a petition to save Pepe and put him back in the Space Jam 2 Movie, and maybe have Pepe realize he wants no other woman in his life but Penelope, maybe even have Penelope realize the same thing too.

I know that there is a possibility by the time the movie is fully finished,

Pepe might still be out of it, which isn’t fair and should be fixed.

Pepe is a bit aggressive in his flirting, but he isn’t a monster like some humans are in real life.

if ya want to change Pepe a bit, to make him less how he was in his older cartoons, then make it so that he at least gets a slap or takes one No for answer.

Pepe acting the way he does, could mirror how Johnny Bravo acts, but a big differently.

yes Pepe is suppose to be French, but who he is wouldn’t have to do with his heritage, he is flirty and can take his flirting in the wrong direction.

but he is not a monster who would hurt the females he tries to win the love of,

if someone says that in some non-canon work that has Pepe in it,

it would NOT be canon to the canon Pepe.

 Pepe being the way he is, would have to do with the person he is on the inside,

not because of where he comes from.

if we want to save Pepe Le Pew, then how he ends up chasing women,

can be changed a bit when he finally take the first or few signs of no,

as  sign that he needs to stop, or his flirting can be played down a bit,

so it doesn’t get misinterpreted as being something that would cross the line to the forbidden zone.

I know that not everyone will see reason or try to understand that Pepe Le Pew,

might be a bit aggressive when he falls in love, or becomes attracted to someone that he believes he is in love with, but really he might not of truly have fallen in love before.

Pepe could have have his character developed a bit more

so he doesn’t get misinterpreted as one of the dangerous men/women that are seen in real life.       

yes I am counting the women too, because there are some who are just as bad as men.

and yes as the title shows, what is happening with Pepe Le Pew,

is something that I have mentally added to my reasons to dislike humanity.

even if I still have some love for humanity,

it is what Pepe Le Pew that I just can’t stand.

if Pepe has to get rebooted to save him from the metaphorical dip,

which is because of the different reasons he is cut from the Space Jam 2 Movie, then I would be for Pepe’s character being rebooted if it saves him.

if they do reboot him a bit, but still have him be a flirt, they could make it so that he does take a No for answer, but would just do friendly flirts from time to time

but not cross the uncomfortable line.

they could even have his Nationally Changed a bit,

like him being American, but having French heritage.

I mean I am from America, but I do have French heritage,

sadly I can’t speak the language and might only know a few words.

I got a few other different heritages too...

but I strongly believe that Pepe Henri Le Pew, deserves better.

and if rebooting him saves him from being no longer used by a Warner Brothers and keeps humans from misinterpreting him, because of how he is as a person on the inside, then I am for him rebooting him if it means he can be back on the Space Jam 2 Movie.

how some people act wouldn’t have to do with where they come from,

it would have to do with the person they are on the inside.

and I hope some of you understand that and don’t misunderstand.

I want to believe there can be hope for Pepe Henri Le Pew,

that if he does end up back in the movie, those who work on the movie

will point out they will change Pepe a bit, and make it so that he doesn’t flirt the same way he had done in the past, and will fall in love in the movie and no longer have eyes on anyone but who he has fallen for.

once more Pepe should not be blamed for what some shisno guy did,

and if he is causing misunderstandings of any kind,

just reboot him and make it so he flirts but he does take a no, and even does friendly flirts without crossing the line of no touching like hugging or kisses without the consent.

consent is very important, and I still think Pepe’s old cartoon where in the end

he ends up being the one who becomes the runner while the female cat ends up chasing him, should be mention.

Pepe might be the type that is desperate for romantic love but never truly fell in love and only felt attraction.

and he just goes about it the wrong way, but if he never truly crossed the forbidden zone line, that would mean that Pepe would have some form of

Moral Compass where he knows there are some actions he would not take to try to win the heart of those he chases.

he might cross the line of hugging and kissing and unwanted cuddles,

but I don’t believe he would cross to the forbidden zone line, where it goes beyond hugs, kisses and cuddles.

Put Pepe Le Pew back in the Space Jam 2 Movie,

but make sure there is info saying that his character will be changed a bit,

to be less aggressive in his flirting, and he has learn to take No for answer,

and his flirting has transformed into friendly flirting, and he no longer kisses or hugs a woman without her consent.

I can only hope some other fans of Looney Tunes, feel the same and will speak out about it.

if they go after Fifi too, then that would be another line crossed,

yeah she can be a bit aggressive when chasing after boys,

but she does seem to have a love interest in Hampton, who likes her back.

but she wouldn’t cross the line either.

I need to grab something to eat, I’m still gonna finish watching that video.

once more even though I am Semi-Misanthrope,

I still have humans that I still care about and I know that not all humans

are the same and wouldn’t just place the blame solely on Pepe.

and I really do hope he lets back in the movie before it’s fully finished,

and his character gets changed a little bit, so he comes off as a friendly flirt

that has learn to take No for answer.

Pepe and Johnny might take their flirting over the line at times,

but they would never cross the gross and physically harmful line,

where it would cause the person to become scared of either a man or woman that did harm to them.

the sooner humans learn this, I think the better it will be for all toonkind in the cartoons we love, both in shows, movies, video games and comics.

even if they are just fictional, even those like Pepe Le Pew and Johnny Bravo,

should have some form of justice.

see ya later and stay safe everybody.

I’m gonna go grab something to eat now, and continue watching that video

that talks about Pepe Le Pew. 

over the mossy roots

@geraltwhumpweek

TITLE: over the mossy roots

SHIP: Gen

PROMPT DAY: Day 1: Ostracism

  MEDIUM (Netflix, Books, Games, Hexer): Netflix

WARNINGS: Child abuse (of the magical mind manipulation variety), Hurt/No Comfort, Unhappy Ending

SUMMARY: Ciri has been running too hard for too long. When Visenna stumbles across her in the woods, it's no wonder her mind welcomes in the warm, comforting feeling of her magic. It's no wonder she bends to her suggestions, becomes the perfect daughter Visenna has dreamed of since she was forced to get rid of her last child. And, when Geralt finds them, it's no wonder he's horrified.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is the second part to a lil series I’m working on where Geralt has inherited some of his mother’s druid magic. You can find the whole series on AO3 here

Ciri is so tired of being wary. Of looking at every stranger like they wish to rip her heart out.

It’s a necessity to keep her alive, she knows that. If even the familiar is dangerous—she still dreams of Mousesack twisting into a monster—then the unfamiliar is even more so. The Nilfgaardians wouldn’t even need to disguise themselves, they could just send a soldier to pose as one of the dozens of well-meaning women that have tried to adopt her.

And yet, part of her—a very large part of her—is begging the rest of her to just take the offer. To let herself be someone’s daughter again, to live in a simple, warm house, and take whatever name her new mother might want to give. To stop running, to stop looking for a man she suspects doesn’t want her. To be safe.

Right now, she’s huddled in her makeshift camp in the forest, shivering as the wind skitters across her back on icy feet. Her fingers are growing numb, but she can’t risk a fire—not so close to the nearest town. So she keeps them clenched into fists in Dara’s gloves, tucked under her armpits. Hopefully that’ll be enough to stave off frostbite.

Something growls.

She snaps her head up, staring intently into the undergrowth. Four pairs of yellow eyes stare back at her.

Shit.

She should have built that fire after all.

She stumbles to her feet and takes one step backward, then another, not breaking eye contact with the wolves. She fears that, if she does, they will take the opportunity to attack.

Breathe. Stay calm. Don’t let them smell your fear.

Sweat pricks at the back of her neck as, pools in her gloves. One of the wolves slinks forward, slipping from the undergrowth, followed by his fellows. He’s a monstrous thing, gray fur stuck through with twigs and burrs, the fur around his mouth already matted with blood. He’s just eaten then, but he’s clearly still hungry, drool dripping out of his mouth as he stalks towards Ciri.

He snarls and Ciri trips over a tree root, jolting her wrists as she tries to catch herself on the muddy, mossy earth. The wolf seems oddly satisfied as it moves towards her, like it can taste her panic in the air. Easy prey.

She reaches inside her, tugging at the part of her soul that tore a rift in the Earth, that fell the boys that tried to hurt her, but it feels stifled, buried deep beneath something else. Something stronger.

“That’s enough, dearies,” a voice says. It’s a woman’s voice, clear and calm, and that something else shifts over Ciri, rolling across her mind like a warm wave. Her limbs feel heavy, fuzzy with sleep, the aches of five months on the run sliding away from her as easily as a shed coat.

The woman moves forward, into Ciri’s line of sight. She walks through the forest as if it’s her court, and it bends to her like a loyal subject. Roots moving away from her feet, clearing the path between her and the wolves. The wolves that are no longer, snarling, bloodthirsty beasts, but docile puppies, whining and wagging their tails as she kneels down before them.

She’s never seen this kind of magic before. Nature magic, yes, from the women of Brokilon, from Mousesack. But never something this warm and weighty.

“Hush now,” the woman says, stroking the lead wolf’s nose. “Hush.”

The wolf goes to the ground, closing his eyes with a huff as sleep rushes over him. His pack follows suit, and soon, the woman is surrounded by snoring wolves.

The woman turns her head over her shoulder, locking eyes with Ciri.

“They’ll sleep for a while,” she says. “Would you like to pet one?”

The warmth slips through and around her brain, enveloping her in a feeling of safety so full and complete that she thinks she’ll cry. She doesn’t trust herself to speak so she just nods, slipping forward to crouch down next to the lead wolf, the one with the bloody muzzle.

She wonders if he ate some other little girl without a druid to protect her.

“These ones aren’t scared of people,” the woman murmurs as Ciri rests her hand on the wolf’s head. It’s softer than she imagined it would be. “They see them as prey.”

Ciri knows what happens to wild animals that aren’t scared of people.

“Are you going to kill them?” she asks.

“Oh no. It’s not their fault they’re hungry. Not their fault they were born with the taste for blood.” She keeps stroking the wolf’s head. A glow forms at her fingertips, the sickly yellow of half-rotted flowers.

“This will keep both them and the humans safe,” she explains as the glow covers the wolf from nose to lazily-flopping tail. Ciri feels like she’s being lectured by one of her tutors. “It’ll cause them pain to be within fifty feet of a person. They’ll turn and run when they feel the pain, and while it might hurt them a bit, it’ll cause less death and suffering overall. Does that make sense?”

Ciri nods.

“Good,” the woman says. She moves her hand to the next wolf. “I’ll teach you how to do this someday. You should be able to. I can sense your power. It is strong, but misguided at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” The nearly-forgotten wariness is back, shoving insistently through the artificial safety.

The woman smiles, but there is sadness in her eyes. She brings her free hand up, stroking her fingers through Ciri’s hair, and Ciri can’t stop herself from flinching. She half expects the yellow glow to cover her too, a punishment for her chaos.

“When you’re in danger, your first instinct is to lash out,” the woman says. “To kill. There is no need for this.”

They tried to kill me first, Ciri wants to protest, to defend herself. But her tongue feels very heavy in her mouth.

“I’ll take care of you,” the woman says, and then her arms are around Ciri, hoisting her into the air. Panic coils in Ciri’s throat, but it is quickly soothed away by safe, safe, safe. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a child in my house.”

“But I have to find—”

Who does she need to find again?

“You just need a place to rest,” the woman says. “To grow. To become something wonderful.”

She’s forgetting something. Something important, slipping further and further away from her brain as safety, warmth, home, comfort, quiet, quiet, QUIET, slips in.

The woman turns her head to look at the place that Ciri had fallen.

“I am Visenna,” she says. “But you will call me Ma. And you…”

“I’m C—”

“I will call you Moss,” she says decisively, shifting Ciri—Moss—Ciri, her name is Ciri, she won’t forget that too, she can’t forget that too—so that her weight rests against her hip.

“Why are you doing this?” Ciri manages to ask as the warmth floods her brain. She knows she won’t be able to hold out against it much longer.

“I told you,” Visenna says, running a finger over Ciri’s cheek, almost lovingly. “It’s been so long since I had a child.”

Ciri sleeps.

***

Moss wakes up.

She stretches lazily, staring at the first rays of sun as they play over her bedroom wall. Something is lingering in her brain, a dream of a forest, a star, a pair of flashing golden eyes. She shakes her head, blinking back the last bits of sleep and readying herself to start the day. Ma said she could start learning taming magic today, start coaxing restless piglets into contented slumber. She can’t wait.

She climbs out of bed and heads into the kitchen, where Ma is already up and slicing up thick slices of bread.

“Morning, Ma,” she yawns, snatching an apple out of the bowl on the table.

“Good morning, Moss,” Ma says, dropping a kiss onto Moss’s hair. Her touch is soft and gentle, her voice is soft and gentle, her magic is soft and gentle. And part of Moss thinks that that isn’t quite right, that her Ma is supposed to be burning violet eyes and fire and fierce protectiveness.

But that isn’t right.

She’s lived here all her life.

Must just be the remnants of a dream.

***

She’s happy.

***

She’s safe.

***

But some days she feels like she’s not supposed to be happy and safe. She’s supposed to be grieving something, something greater than a single person’s death, something huge and all-encompassing. She’s supposed to be terrified of something equally vast. Something coming for her.

She’s just a simple druid. She has made no enemies, has lost no family, has no reason to be sad and scared in this warm, bright forest.

And yet she is.

***

Ma teaches her how to coax the flowers out of the earth, how to calm piglets and wolves alike, how to soothe away small storms, how to encourage trees to grow into useful shapes—houses and walls and the like. She cultivates a gentle kind of power, and the urge to scream, to run, to get away(and why does she feel that anyway, in her own home?) lessens day by day.

***

There’s a knock at their door.

A man standing there, all shining white hair and fierce yellow eyes. He balks at the sight of Ma, staring at her like she’s a monster, like she’s dangerous. Moss bristles in indignation, glaring at the man as she comes to stand by Ma’s side.

(Part of her hollers in triumph, that someone else recognizes Ma for who she is.)

“Can I help you, sir witcher?” Ma asks, looping an arm around Moss’s shoulders. There’s frost threaded through her voice. She noticed the man’s stare too.

“I’m here for Ciri,” he growls and Moss—

That name sparks something in her, clamps down on her heart until it hurts, until she’s biting down on her fist to stifle a sob. Ma gently steers Moss—that isn’t your name, and that isn’t your mother, wake up—behind her, putting herself between her and the man.

A wave of warm safety rushes over Moss and she leans into it with a sigh, letting go of the fear that had flooded her system at the sound of a name that she’s quickly forgetting. The man shakes his head like he’s shooing away a fly.

“Stop that,” he says.

“You’re strong,” Ma laughs. There’s no humor in it. “Even for a witcher.”

“I always have been,” the man says. His voice is shaking, no matter how tough he tries to sound. “Give up the girl.”

“I have more than mind magic you know.” She steps forward, but the man doesn’t flinch.

“So do I,” he says evenly. It’s not just his voice that’s shaking now. Fine tremors run up and down his body, making him tremble all over except for his right hand, which rests steady against the hilt of his sword.

“You won’t take my child,” Ma says. “I’ll die before I let that happen.”

And the man laughs. It’s bitter. Wounded.

“That’s a new tune for you,” he says. His knuckles are turning white. “How long will you want to keep her then,Visenna?” He spits Ma’s name like it’s poison. “A year? Five years? Until she gets a mind of her own?”

Around them, the trees that make up the framework of their house creak in warning. Ma stretches out her arms, trying to cover as much of the space in front of Moss as she can.

Run. Go to him. He’s here to save you.

SafetyWarmthQuietQuietQUIET

She stays still. This feels more like a dreams than her dream had.

“You’re breaking her,” the man says. He sounds close to tears. “You’re shattering her mind, surely you must realize that—”

“I’m helping her,” Ma insists. “Her chaos is destructive. Dangerous—”

“As is mine,” The trees shake more violently. Three of them break free of their contorted (wrong, wrong, they shouldn’t growlike that) positions and curl inwards, branches snapping threateningly.

Ma stretches her fingers up and the trees fall still. Her shoulders heave as she takes in the man.

“So what will you do with her when her chaos escapes your shackles?” The man storms forward. Branch after branch peels away from the ceiling. “Take her off to market? Leave her alone by the side of the road?”

Leaves spin around them like a gathering storm and Moss doesn’t even know how to counter this kind of power. More than that, she doesn’t know if she wantsto counter this kind of power. Because Ma isn’t denying the man’s accusations.

“Aspen,” she breathes instead.

“Not my name anymore.”

The branches descend.

Moss thinks, for a moment, that she’s about to watch Ma die. Fear and relief burn through her, so intermingled she can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Her head burns like something is tearing apart her brain piece by piece. Just when their home is about to pierce through Ma’s heart, she waves her hand and they freeze in the air.

She’s trembling, clearly straining against the man’s power, but she holds fast.

“You want me dead,” she whispers.

“I kill monsters,” the man says. He draws his sword. There’s pain on his face, stark and stricken, flashing in his eyes and twisting down his mouth. “And I’m sorry that you are one, but you are.”

“I’m not the one trying to pull apart a mother and her daughter,” Ma says, and she twists her right hand in a familiar pattern.

“No,” Moss says, as her hand glows sickly yellow. She’s seen this spell used before, on countless wolves and bears and kikimora. The thought of using it on a person is just—it’s unimaginable. Unthinkably cruel. “No!”

QUIET.

Her mouth snaps shut and she falls to her knees, the pain peaking in her head. The man growls and charges forward, swinging his sword at Ma’s head. She ducks under the swing and darts past him, brushing her hand across her chest as she goes.

The glow spreads over his skin, eating up every inch of him, and he drops to the ground with a scream, his limbs jerking uncontrollably. He curls in on himself, the scream still piercing the air, writhing and gasping like a dying fish.

“Wh—Wha—?” he chokes, reaching for his fallen sword. Ma takes a step closer to him and his hand curls into a useless claw. His question cuts off as he chokes on air, curling even tighter as agony racks through him. Moss can practically see the pain shuddering through him, wave after wave, his muscles twisting and jerking against it.

Her mother did this.

Her mother cursed a human being to feel pain whenever he goes near another person.

Her mother has effectively cut this man off from the rest of the world.

Moss is going to be sick. She’s sure of it.

“I had to,” Ma—no, Visenna, this woman doesn’t deserve the title of mother—says, cupping the man’s cheek in her hand. He wails as soon as she touches him, jerking backwards in a feeble attempt to get away from the pain. “You’re dangerous. You’d murder your own mother. You can’t be trusted around people.”

“Wha—?”

“Fifty feet,” Visenna says, getting to her feet. Her voice is clinical. Instructive. “That’s how close you can get to humans, before the burning starts. It’ll keep you and me safe, both. And keep others safe from you as well.”

“Y—You—” He’s trembling, and Moss isn’t sure if it’s from pain or fear. She wants to go to him, comfort him, but that will only make it worse.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But we wouldn’t be here if you’d just listened to me, all those years ago.”

She sighs, regretfully but not mournfully, like she’s discovered one of her plants—not even her favorite plant—is infested with aphids.

“Be well, Aspen,” she says, ignoring his earlier insistence that that isn’t his name. Ignoring the fact that he could hardly expect to be well with this kind of curse, that killing him would have been kinder.

She turns around to pick up Moss, and for the first time in a long time, Moss struggles against her grip.

“No!” she screams, as Visenna hoists her into the air and carries her towards the door. “No, no, you have to undo it, you can’t just leave him like this, you fucking—”

“Language,” Visenna says idly as a wave of safetywarmthquietquietquiet rushes over her. She fights it with everything she has, thrashing against it like a fish caught in a net. But Visenna has always been stronger than her, will always be stronger than her, and she can feel her mind slipping out of her control.

And then, another command. One that she dimly realizes she’s felt before.

Forget.

The man lies on the floor of their house, shaking and shuddering as the pain pours through him.

Forget.

He tilts his head and meets Moss’s gaze with panicked golden eyes.

FORGET.

And she remembers. The White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia. Her destiny.

FORGET. SLEEP.

Ciri closes her eyes.

***

Moss wakes up.

Door Into Winter

Name of Piece: Door into Winter part 2 Square Filled: C1 - Terrible Choices Rating  Teen  Warnings: mild violence Summary: In which Bucky is not, in fact, kidnapped... and something Very Bad happens Created for @buckybarnesbingo

A/n - Apparently I didn’t post this. Oops.

Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456288/chapters/51231106

 “You can’t kidnap me,” Bucky exclaimed, as if that had anything to do with anything. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

Tony wasn’t really looking at him; instead he was staring up at the portrait over the fireplace. “That’s my father up there, Howard Stark. Respectable, you know. For certain definitions of respectable. The Starks have served the Queen since there was a queen; since there were Starks. And there’s a standing order, Lord Barnes. Humans are to be captured and turned over to the Queen.”

“What? Why?” Bucky demanded. “I don’t know anything about any queens, and I’m nobody’s lord. I’m just a poor guy from Brooklyn. That’s all. Now, lemme go, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s good,” Tony said, “as I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Well, if you’re gonna go kidnappin’ people who ain’t done anything to you,” Bucky said, “you ought to expect to be hurt. What’ve I ever done to this Queen of yours, anyway?”

“I’m afraid it’s more that what the Queen has done to you,” Tony said. “She took the throne, which was never intended for her. The Queen, you know, is not human. She claims to be. She looks human enough, for those of us who don’t know. But she’s not. She’s not descended from Adam and Eve, the first humans. It’s said she’s a daughter of Lilith, Adam’s first wife. Or some say she’s really a giantess. Or perhaps she’s merely wearing a human disguise. We don’t know. But the thrones, they’re meant for humans. By an ancient law, even older than the Queen’s. You, being here, just being here, in Narnia, is a threat to her rule.”

“So, I’ll go,” Bucky said. “Ain’t like I-- wait, she’s an usurper, so why are you working for her? You seemed… nice.” 

It wouldn’t be the first time that Bucky had been taken in by someone nice.

“I don’t know,” Tony said. “It seemed best, for so long. Do the Queen’s bidding, keep people from getting hurt. It’s not like we can fight back. The Queen is a witch, powerful and terrible. She turns people to stone with a single flick of her wand. We tried to fight her, over the years. There’ve been rebellions and uprisings, and all that’s happened is that we have whole battlefields full of statues.”

“Doesn’t seem like a great person to be servin’,” Bucky said, cautiously. 

“No, perhaps not,” Tony said. “But it was the best way to keep everyone safe. Until you came. Until humans came back to Narnia.”

“I didn’t come here on purpose,” Bucky protested.

“I don’t see how that matters,” Tony said. “You’re here now. Her spells can be broken, her rule overturned. Unless I turn you over to her.”

“You really can’t do that,” Bucky said. He eyed the small room for anything that he could use as a weapon. He didn’t want to hurt Tony, he didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he would. If he had to.

“No, I don’t suppose I can,” Tony said. “I know I don’t want to. I thought-- well, I thought humans would be like her, so it wouldn’t matter if you ruled, or if I turned you over, it wouldn’t change anything. But you-- you’re not like that. Humans aren’t like the Queen. And maybe, maybe this was meant to happen.”

Bucky relaxed, infinitesimally. “So what do we do now?”

“If we hurry, I can probably get you home before any messages reach the Queen that you’ve been here at all,” Tony said. “But we must go, now, quickly and quietly. Even some of the trees are on her side, and they talk so quickly, they might already be sending word.”

Bucky gathered up his few things, and took the coat that Tony offered him to keep warm in the snow.

They hurried out of Tony’s little house and down the path. Bucky didn’t know where he was, and he probably couldn’t have found his way back to the lamppost without a guide, so it was just as well that Tony had a change of heart.

The ground was covered with snow, in fact it had not stopped snowing since Bucky arrived and now the drifts were nearly to his knee. He would not have been able to follow his footsteps back out.

“All right, my darling,” Tony said, when they reached the lamppost. “If you go straight there, through those two big trees, do you see them? You should be able to get to the door that will take you back to Brooklyn.”

“What will happen to you, if you betray the Queen?”

“If I’m very lucky, she’ll never find out,” Tony said. “Who would believe it, humans in Narnia? Silly willow stories. I’ll be fine. Go on, you should go.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Bucky was oddly reluctant to leave, now that he was being given his opportunity.

“Someday, perhaps,” Tony said, and then he moved into Bucky’s personal space, those little cloven hooves of his stamping nervously. “Kiss me goodbye and then go.”

There was magic in that kiss, Bucky felt it. Like a spark of heat between them, a jolt of electricity, a prick of blood to seal a spell, or a drop of wax to close a letter. Tony tasted strange and wild, beautiful and feral all at the same time. He made Bucky ache for more, more kisses, more… other things.

“Goodbye,” Bucky said, and he touched Tony’s cheek.

“Goodbye, and good luck,” Tony said.

Bucky turned and ran for home, pushing great waves of snow out of his way, floundering like a fish, until he reached the trees, and there, there was the door.

He grasped the knob and looked back. He could barely see the lamppost, and the shadow beside it that must still have been Tony.

And then he was through the door, back home, and Nat was laughing.

“Found you!” she said. Like no time had passed at all. Like he hadn’t been with Tony for hours and hours.

“You should see--” Bucky started. And then stopped

There was no snow in Bucky’s hair. There was no door behind him.

There was nothing.

It was gone.

Tony was gone.

“Where’d you get the coat?” Steve was asking. He’d already been tagged out, probably. Steve was terrible at Hide and Seek even when he was sober. His arm was around Peggy’s waist, and she was laughing. “It’s beautiful.”

“You are not going to believe what just happened,” Bucky said.

***

Tony was barely even home when the wolves came for him.

He’d love to say he was shocked, but he wasn’t. He was, in fact, prepared. Brock Rumlow, the Captain of her Majesty’s secret police, at least paid him the honor of coming, personally, to arrest Tony, to clamp him in irons and drag him through the villages as a traitor.

A traitor, the words were whispered. Traitor to the Queen? A Stark?

The people came out, dwarves and satyrs, talking animals and living trees, to throw offal at him, to jeer and mock, but under their contemptuous shouts and the barrage of disgusting things that Tony was showered with, he saw concern. Curiosity. Hope.

How had a Stark betrayed the Queen?

And unless Tony was greatly mistaken, the snow was starting to melt. Icicles formed on the edge of roofs, growing thin and pale. A few green shoots of grass stuck out, here and there.

A thaw, perhaps. 

Before the next great snow.

Or maybe, just maybe, Spring was coming.

The first Spring in generations. Children who had never seen flowers before except in paintings, might see them bloom.

Hope.

Tony was dragged before the Queen, and he knelt. She was terrible and glorious and beautiful, and her beauty was a thing of knives and poisoned splinters. Deadly and fascinating all at once.

“You are accused of treason, Anthony Stark,” she intoned, looking at him from her icy throne. “What have you to say for yourself?”

She held her wand between two fingers, twirling it idly. 

“I say I have committed treason, your Majesty,” Tony said. “Treason to the true rules of Narnia. Treason to the people of Narnia. And for the first time in my life, I have rejected your rule and all that I have done in your name, because I have met-- an actual human.”

The word curled around the courtroom like a raven, whispered and repeated and echoed.

“Liar!” the Queen yelled. She was already on her feet, pointing her wand at him. “Even now, you can save yourself. Say that you are lying, and you will see I can be merciful.”

“I tell no lies, Whitney Frost,” Tony said. “I have met a human. The rightful king will return.”

Frost gestured at Tony. “Rip his heart out,” she said, and one of her servants, Stane, came forward. He put a hand to Tony’s chest and clutched--

Tony toppled forward, slowly, dying.

“Long live the Kin--”

Frost waved her wand and Tony barely had time to know that he was being turned to stone before everything went black

To be continued 

Trauma,

Let me paint a picture, a story in your mind. Trauma like a friend, has come to story time. With it , bring those flashbacks of the ones you'd rather hide . With it brings you forward all your petty lies behind the pride. A story left to tell for it's been hidden far to long;

Starting with a plane ride , and ending with one too. The day we picked you up the sky was just so blue. I thought this was a good thing,and boy I was so wrong for the trauma that consumed me --- would go on for far to long. You painted this pretty little picture of derangement in your head of how our life would be together as you stitched your thread together using my very soul, no noticed as you unraveling me at every point you could.

Compliant was I ever with the things put in my drinks you lied and told me , it was all just in my head as the flashes of me naked now fill my nights with dread. You claimed you where my master, you claimed you where a God, you claimed so many things you wanted without asking and reworded it as love . You forced my affection to feed your ego in this world of make belive. So scared was I, yet I stayed so hopeful that your promises of change where valid and authentic.

The moment you where angery the world stoped making sense, as your hands found my face over and over again. So bruised and so broken the ER was a home . So many lies that never unfolded as they saw the bruises you left scattered across my skin like a coloring book. Lies I told to save my life as you watched from the chair across the room . To busy would the cops have been , with what I was wearing to contrate on the purple way my skin tented after every time I disappointed you.

So mad where you with everyone's happiness that you took it out of me. Damaging my mind and my body in your pillaging drive to claim what was never yours.... Your name was their carved into my skin ... where you left it knife in hand. , where you left me on the bed in the dark alone, when you where done with your master plan . You gave me panic attacks and disguised it as love . As your fingers traced every mark in adoration of the ways in which you could unconsentually hurt me.

You stole every password, every shread of my identity, every inch of my existance hung on the balance of your every whim like the puppet I had become on a string waiting to be used whenever you saw fit to force my compliance. You reworded everything onto everyone else for the way you told us all the blue sky was purple in a hope to convince the world and yourself of the unfathomable horrors you claim to have blocked from your memory with the 7 plus other people you swore occupied your head. Still I belived you could change and such was the trauma , of every inch of my sanity slowly slipping away .

You took my peace of mind and the safty of home as you forced my phone into your hands and changed everything you could to block the outside world from me and me from the outside world. Because of you I'm scared to be in the dark for to long by myself, because of you I'm scared to go out at night or trust anyone at all , I guard my drinks closely , I watch what I eat and I try to hurry up in the shower so the water does not trap me in my own mind. Which attacks itself in constant fear of your return.

Somedays I dont pick up my phone at all because I can't bare one more alert, as you hack into things yet again. Screen shoting my words to send back to me in anger mophing me into a robotic version of myself only made to agree with you. So paranoid am I of technology as I block you on every form of media known to man yet you still find ways to torment me again and again. Because you tried to drown me in a tub and call it a baptism I'm scared to stay alone in the bathroom for to long. The sad thing is I know why I have these fears and still I see your face haunting me every second of the day . Because of you I am afraid of my own shadow and the thought of someone touching me alone is enough to drive me into panic.

Because of you I wake up screaming in the middle of the night and freak out enough to turn every light on in the house and hide under my bed. You duck taped my body and covered me in slurs as you dumped cold ice water all over me until I was drenched and still you didn't stop nothing was ever enough as you took pictures of me and sent them to your friends as you raped me and had no regret because of you I'm scared to have sex. Because of you I'm scared to even exist anymore. You took a chunk of my sanity the day you pushed me off the bed because I looked like a 'dead fish' after you assulted me.

The fear that never left my eyes as you shouted and screamed how stupid and worthless I was and how I would not amount to anything . The fear that never left my eyes when you punched me in the face and knocked me unconscious in a rage that two other people saw but yet you claimed you couldn't rememebr until they called you out on your bullshit. A fear to even use my bank because you forced me to give you the passwords and took all my money on the grounds I couldn't be trusted . Because you called and pretended to be me and closed my accounts .... there was never justification in your actions . In your financial, physical, emotional, mental , sexual or identity abuse because of you I have Trauma. There is no apology that can fix the mess you made as you tried to tell me you wished you could change, only to admit you where lieing in an effort to control me again. Which drove me insane.

You started drugs and forced every second of my 2019 to be as miserable as it could be , using our rent and car money to fuel your secondary needs as if the Meth you took was far more important then our need to survive. You hurt so many not just me but everyone else around us. Because of you I am afraid . Afriad to do the things I normally would have never been afraid to do . I'm scared to leave the house in fear of you being there again . You swore to me I would never be anyone elses as you created a fantasy I was forced to play along with for survival only to be thrown off guard as you knocked me unconscious and choked me so hard I turned blue . The cops and doctors never sided with you. All MY friends never sided with you. You ruined every inch of my sanity but yet you where insistent on taking more. This Trauma was never enough for you.

This is my voice, this is my statement from the nightmares, the terror filled dreams , the way I wake up screaming and crying and shaking like a leaf. Because the PTSD you caused is like a plague one of which spread to many different things as month after month my Stockholm got worse until I was so oblivious to your constant abuse. You caused me so much pain. Pain I couldn't handle as the doctors admited me for fear I may take my own life.... because of the trauma I endured. The trauma you spread over every part of our lives.

Anytime I was happy --- a road trip to a friends , three chances and at each turn you broke into my accounts... at each turn you dramatically lied to get your way for me to return. You threatened to kill anyone that stood in your way of getting to me. Yet still you saw no derangement in your illusions.

Trauma defined as a deeply distressing or disturbing experience. That is all you are now as my words flow off the pages that is all you are now an experince --- a bad one with some good points an experince a lesson --- I had to learn to become stronger yeah I'm scared but that wont change how far I've come . I wont be afraid of you anymore. I refuse to let it define me because you hurt me , you broke every inch of trust sure. My hope though is one thing you will never have... never take and never betray like you did so much else.

You were wrong once you are nothing like him, the man who hurt us so badly that we United in solidarity .... you became him in your own self involved Prophecy--- I refuse to accept the blame for your mistakes. I refuse to cover up your false truths and ignore the fact that you ... need help. Help I can not provide but this is over now , said and done they know your flaws everyone and though I didnt use a name people have heard my story of the days in which my fears cause me the most worry. Trauma is everywhere and that's okay right now. My wounds will heal both mental and physical, but you'll always be the one who hurt another human being.

The end.

hi! could i request an imagine with yandere taeyong regretting kidnapping his s/o and apologizing to her?? i really love your yandere content!!!

Length: 1053 words

The dimness of those dead eyes, the loss of the shimmer oflife that would dance across the light that once boundlessly filled every speckof your iris’, the skin that had once been warm and glistened in the sun like earth-borngold or the gleaming dust of Mars now so cold to the touch and lustreless, thevoice that had once carried the sound of music, hope, passion and gentlenesswith each note that would spill from your mouth now devoid of the beauty thathad once resided within… these things, these things and so much more werehardly the beginning of the list of what Taeyong misses about you. If he wereto write every aspect of your being that had once enticed him and entrancedhim, chained him to you and drove him wild that was now lost to the winds oftime, there’d be an entire stack of books piled against each corner of thishouse that contained the lists. Gratefulness leaped within him that you still hadsense enough to do the bare minimum to keep yourself alive, however, the drearinessof your unstimulated movements and the desolate tone of your now monotonousvoice were enough to nearly leave a mind-numbing sense of remorse within himand dread spread through his body with each passing day over the thought thatsomeday soon you’d be wasted-away and he’d be left with nothing.

Taeyong is well aware of the cause for your current state ofbeing. He knows that you have become this way because of his insensitivity toyour desire for freedom. He knows that you have become this nearly exanimatebeing consisting of mere flesh and bone and hollowed eyes and dead-like limbsdue to his greed and desire to have you by his side. He had never intended to clipyour wings and cage you in to the point that you rather desire death. He never intendedto drive you to the point of existential despair.

To help him cope with this ever-growingcompunction, Taeyong makes a part of his daily protocol stem around showing youhis penitence towards what he has done. He does everything possible that heimagines will get a reaction from you, one other than an insensated shrug ofyour shoulders or a toneless huff.  Torelieve you of your melancholia, Taeyong gifts to you every desire that you hadpleaded to be granted when he had first claimed you for himself and brought youto your current place of desolate residence…. Well nearly everything. Taeyongis incapable of cutting your chains loose and letting you spread your wings andfly like the beautiful bird that he once associated you to be. He is incapableand averse to letting you run back to the grime and filth that walks in humanform- disguised as people that you had come to classify as your friends andfamily. That is the one thing, and one thing only, that Taeyong repudiatesalthough he has become aware that this will only lead to the continuation ofyour downfall.

—————————————————————————————————

Today Taeyong has high hopes that he’ll bring some sign oflife back into you. Taeyong has spent months making preparations and finishingfinal touches to this master scheme that he prays will resurrect the livelinessthat you have lost and restore it to you indefinitely. As he watches you slowlydress yourself in the clothes that he has laid out for you Taeyong’s giddinessnearly burst out of its restraints. He can hardly repress the overbearingfeeling as he laces his fingers between yours after taking your hand in his. “You’ll love this babe, I promise” isall that he says as he leads you up the stairs, through a plethora of hallways,through the back dinning room and towards the door that leads to the backyard. Hepauses as he lays his free hand around the handle of the door to look down atyou emaciated figure, the sight hurts him- a sharp pang pulses through hisheart- but it dissipates as he imagines the reaction you’ll have to thesurprise that awaits you just on the other side of this door.

With trembling fingers, he twists the knob of the door andpulls in towards him, opening the back door ever so slowly… each creak of therusty hinges causing the rapid beating of his heart to increase.

Upon opening the door, Taeyong leads you past the deck ofthe house, down its stairs and onto the grassy yard. With his free hand hegently clasps your chin and raises your head up to enable you to see the giftthat he can’t wait any longer to present to you.

Upon raising your head high enough to see his gift to you,Taeyong watches intently for any sign of emotion or motion from you. At firstit seems as though it has been another failed attempt as your eyes remain dimand devoid but, faster than the blink of an eye he sees it, a sign, a sign ofemotion other than despair and gloom, he sees the slight rise of your droppedeyelids and the small part of your lips from each other as you take in thesight before you. “you….. What?”

“it’s a Granny Pod.”        “A what?”         “A Granny pod, at least that’s whatmost people officially call them….. It’s a small house, just for you, here inthe backyard. You’ll be free to roam in it as you please and you have freerange of the backyard and our official house as well.”

He pays specially attention to every slight raise of youreyelids and nearly chokes up when he sees tear brim in your eyes, he watchesevery small motion of your jaw slowly dropping and spares no chance atforgetting the sight of light slowly returning to your dull eyes. When he seesyou run to the house and hears you break down within, he knows he’s done it.

He’s won!

The y/n that he grew to love and be infatuated with hasreturned. You are no longer an empty vessel devoid of life and emotion. You arenow yourself again. His apologies haven’t gone to waste. His hard work hasn’t beenfor nothing.

Taeyong has won, you’ve come home.

~Savie

((yes yes yes, I know it’s shit, no need to point that out to me. Please refrain from hatin’. Also, apologies for not having as much dialogue as I originally intended and for not quite following the request))   

((also, I’m gonna put more tags on this other than the typical yandere ones since this scenario is pretty tame-ish............maybe............. Hopefully there won’t be much backlash.))

Children Of Iron, Chapter 5: Jealousy

Summary: Wanda, Vision, and Harley try to track down Peter in Venice.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323687/chapters/49256699

A short while later, Happy dropped off Wanda, Vision, and Harley over Venice. Literally, over Venice. Not knowing the exact details of what had transpired so far, Vision had decided it was best to avoid drawing too much attention to themselves, therfore they had opted against actually landing the plane. Instead, hey were going to fly down.. A little risky since one member of the trio could not actually fly, but it they could work something out.

"I can hang on to Wanda" Harley suggested, a little too hopefully, as they were preparing to disembark.

"No, I think it will be better if you were to hang on to me" Vision countered. "I am more suited to flying with the extra weight."

"Oh, right.. Good point" Harley giggled nervously.

"Alternatively, Harley does not have to hang on to either one of us" Wanda waved a hand, a rather cheeky grin on her face, and Harley began to float, surrounded by very familiar scarlet energy.

"Whoa!" Harley yelped, tightening his grip on the case housing the Nano-Legion. "I.. whoa!"

"Shall we go now, boys?" Wanda smirked.

Both Vision and Harley nodded dumbly, Vision gathering the rest of their things. --

Thankfully, it was rather dark, masking the arrival of the two newly-engaged Avengers and their new 'Intern'. Vision took a moment to survey the beautiful old city from above. There were a few pieces of scattered debris from the earlier attack, but for the most part, the damage seemed relatively minor.

Wanda landed first, behind an old building, bringing Harley down gently beside her.

"That was awesome!" Harley grinned. "Just like flying for real. Can we do that again?"

"Maybe" Wanda chuckled, looking around, and smiling at Vision when he came down on her other side. "I forgot how beautiful Venice is.. do you remember last time we were here, Vizh?"

"I do" Vision smiled, shifting into his human disguise. "We went on a Gondola ride.."

"And you took me out for a very nice dinner.." Wanda linked her fingers with his.

"Mmhm. And on the day we were supposed to leave I missed my flight because we were.."

"Vizh!" Wanda yelped, clapping a hand over his mouth. "That is not a company-appropriate story.."

Vision blushed, suddenly remembering Harley, standing awkwardly beside them.

"Sorry, Harley.."

"I hear way worse stuff at School" Harley shrugged. "So, what do we do now that we're here?"

"First things first" said Wanda, "I think we need to find Peter."

"Agreed" Vision nodded. "Happy said May got a text from Peter mentioning that they were going to switch Hotels, but I'm not sure which one he was switching too.."

"No problem, I think I can help.." Harley knelt, opening his case and pulling out a small controller. He pressed a few buttons, and a single Nano-Iron Man droid formed from the nanites. "We need to track down Spider-Man."

The droid seemed to salute Harley, then it's eyes glowed, initiating a scan of the area. It emitted a small beeping noise when the scan was complete, and spoke in a robotic voice.

"Spider-Man located."

The droid hovered upward, awaiting further instructions.

"It's got something" Harley grinned.

"Sclipitor" Wanda smiled, gently ruffling the boy's hair. "Lead the way, Harley."

"Yes, Ma'm!" Harley stood, speaking to the droid. "Lead us to Spider-Man.. but do it in stealth mode, we don't want too many people seeing you.."

The droid saluted again, then took off, Harley hurrying along its wake, with Wanda and Vision following along behind him.

"I'm not sure you should be encouraging him quite so much.." Vision frowned, speaking quietly enough that Harley wouldn't hear him, clutching Wanda's hand a bit tighter.

"What do you mean?" Wanda's brow crinkled in confusion.

"Well, Harley clearly has a little crush.." Vision looked around awkwardly. The streets of Venice were largely empty, most people choosing to huddle indoors with their loved ones after the earlier monster attack.

"I've noticed. It's actually a little flattering, but completely harmless.. Wait" Wanda paused, a smirk spreading over her face. "Vizh, are you jealous?"

"No.. of course not.."

"You are!" Wanda almost burst out laughing.

Harley, some ways ahead now, paid little attention to them, completely focused on the task at hand.

"I know it's stupid.." Vision blushed. "I suppose I am just not used to sharing your attention.."

"Vision.." Wanda shook her head, reaching up to stroke his cheek, and smiling when he leaned into her touch. "Harley is a baiat dulce, and I am enjoying getting to know him, because he is your brother, and it is important to you that all the members of this family you are building get along.."

"It is" Vision nodded.

"It is important to me too" Wanda continued, "Because I love you. More than I thought I could ever love anyone. You are the man I am marrying, the one I am promising forever to someday soon. I love you, Vision. Just you. Nobody else. Okay?"

"Okay" A wonderfully bright smile spread over his face. "I love you too. So much."

"I know.." Wanda smiled, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Now, let's go find your other little brother.. And try not to have a crisis if this one develops a crush on your wife to be."

"That is quite unlikely" Vision chuckled, relaxing now. "From what happy tells me, Peter is rather hung up on a girl called MJ.." --

They followed the nano-droid for a while longer, until Harley frantically gestured to them.

"I think I see something!"

Wanda and Vision hurried to where Harley was waiting near the docks, the nano-droid hovering at his side. All three of them crouched behind an out-of service Gondola. Harley looked out to the water, Wanda and Vision following his gaze.

They could see a motorboat, with two passengers aboard. One was Peter Parker, fully suited up apart from his mask.

The other was Nick Fury.

Paris From Space

|Prélude|

All the universe is breathless abandon.

Atoms entangling in a game of paradox—ceaseless here-and-there playfulness.

You see the skies soggy with storm, their careful cracks of vaporous ash across dark marsh.

You hear the pulse of pressure manifested, crushing and resonant. The dogs tremble and bark. The birds dangle in mid-flight, hanging on an unseen grid.

You smell the moisture—refreshing, cold. Sometimes you forget the world is water. Rain is a decent reminder.

You taste the mellow dread of waning nostalgia. Every passing day is further from a memory you once considered real.

But in hindsight, the fringes fading from view, the minced details of sensory lushness peeling away one by one—first, you forget the scent of it; then the flavors; then the sounds; then the appearances.

Someday you may even forget the feeling—the inextricable meaning of an experience that reasoned the memory extant in the first place.

You touch the surface of everything. A nervous glaze. The stitching of molecules costumed by your fragile perception, vainly convincing itself of every object’s difference and every texture subjective.

The truth—hidden as it always is—behind a curtain of illusion, saving your conscious fragility from being frightened by the position of matter in these rules of reality.

As you look on and wonder:

If everything is everything else, then what am I?

A composed ape. Poised against the frigid metal-legs of a balcony. Posing in a slumped grace, posturing yourself unconsciously to the gravity of detached comfort. Legs bent. Arms slung. Back sloped. If a raindrop fell on you at this current moment, you might collapse.

A loosely-lit cigarette between your lips. The tip of heat wavering on-and-off, totally uncaring if its trail of crumbling conflagration ever reaches its end. A stained sleeveless-shirt, crinkle-cut by use. Undergarments slacking, spotted, indented by under-sweat. Quite the sloppy ape you are.

You flick the unfinished cigarette. An indifferent attitude. Does this bundle of moody fluids have a name? Do you have a name? It is customary for you apes to award each other names. Such superficial symbols permit you to feign definition.

Emilia.

Emilia is done observing these constellations of atoms we refer to as life. She swallows one last gulp of drenched oxygen, then retreats from the patio-wilderness back into her modernist cave. The ape must sleep. And forget how all the universe is breathless abandon.

|Act Une|

Emilia nearly choked on her croissant.

“You killed yourself? How?” she garbled, removing rogue flakes from her mouth with a napkin.

Her friend initiated conversation in a peculiar way, explaining she had killed herself the night before, only to awake in the morning alive and disappointed.

“I took the pills Jamer gave me, settled myself in a nice bath, then drank a pinot all the way through, waiting.”

Her friend sipped an exotic tea. Emilia drowned the remaining flakes, stuck in her teeth like fleas on a dog, with a whip of bitter coffee. Her throat convulsed from the heat.

“And nothing happened?” she asked, politely.

Her friend shook her head, annoyed—not at Emilia, but at her situation.

“I remember a sudden nausea. Then I started vomiting blood and pastry, the pain in my stomach so strong. It was like being grinded alive. I thought it was it for me—I remember thinking it was the end. I made my peace with the universe and all that, but then… I wake up the next morning. No blood. No vomit. No pain. Even the bathtub had been drained!”

Emilia expressed awe at her friend’s predicament.

“So strange.” she mused.

“So strange!” Her friend parroted.

It was still gloomy weather and the café was hushed in midday reverence.

Emilia and her friend cooled in silence. Until a coddled boom whimpered through the streets. Followed by a glimpse of glow. The storm was barely holding it together. But the sun stood no chance as the clouds formed a fortress, a last-ditch effort to reclaim their tempest-might.

“Did you tell Jamer?” Emilia inquired.

Her friend sighed. “No, and I’m not going to bother. Fuck Jamer, he sold me a trick instead of a death.”

Emilia agreed. She struck a mental note of never buying toxins from Jamer again. Then her attention diverted to the concrete floor, where a party of ants convened upon a parcel of croissant Emilia had spat out after noticing a corner of it was burnt. Her discretion did not extend to the searing temperature of the coffee, however, which she drank freely despite the lesions forming in her throat. Her friend sighed again.

“I’ll try again tonight. I’ll do something else this time. If only I could get a gun.”

Wasps invaded the arthropod gathering, their bulbous black-yellow behinds sweeping through the tiny ants, rolling the little troopers over like butter on toast. It made Emilia sick to watch.

Her stomach roiled and fussed.

“Oh dear, sorry to intrude on your complaints Lulu, but I feel quite nauseous suddenly.” She pinched the sides of her fatty glands in disgust and boredom.

Lulu nodded, a friend quite understanding. “Shall we take a walk? Refresh ourselves?”

Emilia and Lulu left the café and followed the Parisian street.

A peculiar aether presented itself. Oxygen was languorous. Mist curled between the cement and plastic altars of commerce, down alleyways to hideaways, elapsing the vestibules of vanity where so many spend so much to hide themselves away in cosmetic disguises and fabricated costumes. Their artifice exhibited in the store-windows on mannequins that appear more real and fashionable than them themselves.

Emilia thought it was amusing how new things pretended to be while erected upon the platforms of old. Shops stood where castles once did. Cafés in the place of cathedrals. Roads once medieval morphed modern, the only remnants of design in the curving sewer crates and occasional decorative gargoyle, perched upon a prosthetic height like skeletons bolted by metal supports in a museum. Alive in false motion. The pretense of being displayed.

Emilia, curiously, swayed down the sidewalk, her steps careful and airy. It was the respectful thing to do, she considered, for how else is one supposed to walk through a graveyard? If not avoidant of others’ peaceful beds and nostalgic crypts.

She looked up at a street-sign, which was welded unto a steel-beam older than anything else on the street, and she smiled at how it could still find usefulness even in the ages after its inception.

“We walk the same place as they did three-hundred years ago.” Emilia mentioned. But Lulu ignored it, fascinated by the passing montage of jewelry and clothing. “No, you’re right. We don’t. This is only a replica city.” Emilia muttered, defeated.

“I’m thinking—should I just jump off a roof somewhere? Perhaps a church or skyscraper. Maybe I’ll climb to the top of Eiffel and leap—no, no, they have gates for that, don’t they? Of course, I’m sure I’m not the first to think of it.”

Lulu mused on. Emilia encouraged her friend, examining the merits of her plan.

“I don’t know how effective that would be. What if, after jumping off, you suddenly grow wings and take flight? Then you’ll feel foolish.”

Her friend snickered, “Then I’ll crash myself to the ground! Or maybe I’ll fly higher, to that level where the atmosphere folds unto itself, and let myself be crushed by a blanket of gravity.”

“A remarkable idea! But now where do you get wings?” Emilia wondered.

Her friend sighed, adjusting the grief on her face. “All of this talk of failure is ruining my mood. Sorry to disparage you today. I should be more grateful to have a friend like you, Emilia!”

Lulu embraced Emilia. Her friend’s hair was scented in tones of tangerine, flecking through bits and pieces of minted beach. Emilia sniffed deeply—she wished to never end the cuddle, so she could sniff this citrus dream forever. But Lulu, first to grip, was also the first to pull back. They continued on.

Along their path, a carious fiend, whom could barely speak, adorned in leftovers.

“Spare a penny? Just a penny!” he beseeched any who would listen.

Passersby passed by, either deaf or deferent. But when Emilia and her friend came by his way, he bowed, tingling from starvation.

“Excuse me Misses, but I must say you are both the most beautiful angels I’ve ever seen in this godforsaken city. Please tell me—I’ve heard rumors—I’ve heard we are on Mars now? Is it true? Did mankind send some of its own to claim the red oasis as ours? Oh, I’ve tried to see them. I look up at it every night, hoping to see. Tell me what I see is what it be?”

Emilia and Lulu both stared at the sky, then each other, then the fiend, who was gazing upward, a wistfulness dripping from his eye, plopping to the ground in weak rain.

“I imagine them up there, looking back at us. I bet they don’t cry; they don’t miss us. They look back at this garbage mess of hideous rock and wicked ocean, thinking we deserve to be left behind. They probably look out to the cosmic horizon, where our galaxy holds hands with God, and thinks the summation of Mankind is calculated in the stars and the stars alone.”

Emilia quivered. The beggar fiend was beginning to affect her.

His face collapsed. He heaved in. Let it out. “I don’t think we were born here. I think we plummeted here from somewhere beyond. This is not our planet. This is not our destiny.”

Emilia fumbled through her pockets and scrounged up some meager change. It wasn’t enough for her, but it was enough for him. When she handed it to him, she spoke, “We’re there. Those who are, I hear they’re preparing everything for us. We won’t be left behind, I promise. They’re coming back for the rest of us.”

The beggar grinned and thanked her, quaking in appreciation. “Oh, you’re so kind! You wondrous angel! So kind. God crafted you especially, I can tell. I’d like to believe you, too. But angel, you know how we humans are. We’ll sooner see the child of God return than for those who’ve left us to come back for us.”

Emilia saddened. The beggar disappeared, a puff of lost hope.

Lulu nudged her. “Come on, just down over here is Saladin’s place. He may be able to help me.”

Her friend strolled forward. Emilia took her arm and dabbed herself dry, taking one last peek toward the sky, in vain vehemence. If only he knew it was all still the same, even up there. Still just as boring, but more red.

On the stoop, a figure in prescience rose to greet them. He had a habit of always looking around, as if always being watched, or suspecting someone of always trying to catch him.

“Salaam. Salaam. You here for the Wise?” he greeted Emilia and Lulu individually. He recognized Lulu.

Emilia was intrigued. She heard her friend speak of Saladin before, many times, but had never met him. Lulu was comfortable, if not a smidge annoyed, rushing through pleasantries to get straight to business. The weight of life was one she was done carrying.

“Omar, I wish to speak to Saladin. Is he here?”

She pointed at the building behind Omar, a destitute stack of rooms, hidden in sharpened architecture and a sallow-salmon shade. Omar replied, “Yes he is. He has time for you. What is your friend’s name?”

Omar motioned toward Emilia. How bizarre it was to be referred to as the friend for once. Emilia perked up, saying her name for the inquirer. Omar dugs his fists in to the pockets of his footie-jacket and told the duo to accompany him up the stairs.

Emilia hurried through a cigarette as they walked, the stairs sidewinding through an elevated terrace stuffed with nature’s contraptions of petal-jaws and coiling-brush.

All Emilia seemed occupied with, however, was the beggar. And she, too, became obsessed with the rumors of Mankind’s ascent—blissfully disregarding the reality she knew that nobody was going anywhere special.

And just like that, she was finished with her cigarette.

|Act Deux|

A room with a plastic aroma.

Blood-boiled bulbs bleed unto the scene. Strobes of smoke and scarlet sound.

Sandcastles painted on the walls; behind them the mystic beaches of space. Built from magenta-dust or emerald-gore, standing upon the corners of unknown planets, these sandcastles holding a trillion pieces together through sheer gravity and will.

On the floor, decorative and intricate rugs sprawling across, reminiscent of Persian palaces.

In the middle, an oval-cut booth, dressed in maroon leather, tussles of gold fluff along the precipices. Rising from this lavish throne, a figure of regard and wisdom, moving like a demigod in repose, raising a cup of champagne.

“To all my friends—time makes the blade forget!”

Everybody cheers. Electronic trumpets blare. Maidens dance; jesters spin. A decadence infused with grim detachment. They lack the music of olden whimsy—instead moving mechanically, like robotic replicas imitating a scene from context rather than reality. But this bothers them none.

And so here we are—the sound of shells snapping back to reality.

“Salaam! I am Saladin the Wise. Welcome to my harem of knowledge!”

Saladin clapped.

Emilia and Lulu were offered drinks, then introduced to a circle of sole seats beside the circular cathedra, with a nest of tobacco temples, fur-fringed pumps snaking around their bases and heads.

Aside from Saladin, there was Omar looming in the corner, vigilant.

And there was Soelle, sitting next to Saladin, ignoring the visitors, much keener to blow the mold from her knife-nails, which lunged like claws from her fingertips, stained in hot-pink blood. Smoke looped through the diamond hoops hanging from her ears. She had the appearance and the attitude of a queen.

Saladin’s smile was a huge jumble, twinkling under his round-nose and frizzy hair, and he looked more like a buffoon than a wiseman.

“Lulu, my darling swan! Why have you come to me today? What wisdom do you seek?” Saladin proclaimed.

Lulu sipped her champagne, then spoke, “I seek your guidance on a problem I can’t seem to solve.”

Saladin nodded, then his face sunk in contemplation. Then he asked, “Who is your friend? She is a gorgeous swan!”

Emilia perked up. She had been distracted, admiring the sandcastles, all their detail, from their towers to their gates to their moats.

“Emilia. It is a pleasure.”

Saladin clapped again, enthusiastic.

“Emilia! A perfect name for the perfect portrait. Come, you must indulge in my delicacies. It is only right you have pleasure in the House of Saladin!”

Saladin snapped.

From nowhere, another person emerged with trays of treats, placing them on the tiny stone-surface which stood between the cancerous contraptions, drenched in their smoke, glazed in crimson cream. Then she returned to nowhere.

Saladin gestured for Emilia and Lulu. Emilia looked at her friend, seeking a sign of procedure. Lulu flicked her eyeballs, obviously annoyed, intending Emilia to eat one of Saladin’s offerings. She stared down at the silver-tray, which held a bowl of glass candy and strips of peppered seaweed.

Lulu grabbed one of the strips and chewed it happily. Emilia hesitated. Her stomach was still disturbed from her earlier caffeine, and she really didn’t feel like munching on strange snacks. But Lulu nudged her, implying that Emilia shouldn’t be rude and accept at least one bite of whatever weird gift this wise fellow was giving her.

So she picked one of the glass candies, which felt cold in her hands. It was translucent, spherical, with two symmetrical stripes of blue sugar stretching around it. Her teeth preemptively winced, anticipating what it would feel like to chomp glass.

But she tucked it in, swiftly, then ate her worries away when the unbelievable sweetness dissolved in her mouth. Her entire throat and tongue and jaw were tingling in sensation. Her body warmed. Everything became so wet and hot and sugary. Her limbs shivered. Her torso became mush. It was the most deliciously saccharine thing she had ever tasted.

“Thank you, Saladin. I appreciate your kindness.” Emilia mumbled, still licking residue from her lips. Saladin chuckled warmly.

“You are my valuable guests. All your whims are of value to me. Come, you must try this delicate smoke. It is imported from the land of ancient time—the place where all mankind comes from. Please, you must try this.”

Saladin snapped.

Omar brought hot coals and placed them on the podium of one of the plant-vaporizers, which bubbled and brewed in delight. On the base, letters of languages unspoken for millennia, etched in gold and glue. Omar lifted one of the hairy hoses, handing it to Emilia first.

“You are a new guest in the House of Saladin. It is tradition you smoke first as well.” Omar explained.

Emilia took the tube, no questions, and sucked it with all her force.

The smoke broke upon her lungs like dolphins crashing upon waves. It soothed her welts. It was smooth as serpent-skin, slithering down into her belly, flushes of peppermint and tangerine and baked-bark, peeling the crust from her inner organs, renewing her breathe, rejuvenating her blood and sweat.

The smoke seeped through every vein, pulsating every cell along the way, orgasmic needles pricking every last cent of her body. It crawled like vines upon stone, outward in labyrinthine motion, weaving a web of sylvan silk, cradling its host in tendril embrace. Emilia was paralyzed. Yet, she was not uncomfortable.

As the smoke dissipated, her body reverted to its natural state, which felt unnatural compared to what it had just experienced. By the time she had feeling and movement again, Emilia was disappointed, drained, drowned. She had preferred being paralytic. She had preferred the smoke wearing her carcass like a costume. It was a feeling beyond human hue.

“You like it, yes? It is exquisite! Saladin only provides the best for his companions!” Saladin inhaled from his own pump, expelling the smoke in a bluster of gust, shaped exactly like a sandcastle.

And just like a sandcastle in rising tides, it was only a temporary moment until it evaporated into nothingness.

“It is the divine will that has brought you to me. Do you believe this?” Saladin inquired.

Emilia was still recovering. Lulu poked her cheek, reminding her of the material realm.

“Excuse my friend, she is overwhelmed by your luscious smoke. She is a true Frenchwoman—she’s only smoked cigarettes, never any hookahs.” Emilia blushed, then apologized.

Saladin repeated his question.

Emilia thought about it, then answered, “I believe in a cosmic will, yes. In something greater than ourselves. I believe in a higher power.” She swallowed.

“I don’t mean to offend anyone, but I don’t believe in a He or a She or a master plan or anything like that. I think it’s more like, well, there are cells, and something tells them they need to be cells and act like cells and do cell things. And then the cells do as they’re told, and everything else just sort of happens because of it.”

Saladin hunched over, contemplating. Emilia hoped she hadn’t offended him by morphing his definition of divine will into a different idea.

Arisen from his meditation, however, Saladin still smiled, still laughed in heart, and responded to Emilia, “You are wiser than you know, my friend. It is divine will that seeds grow to trees; that eggs hatch to fly; that earth rotates and sun shines. The matter of the universe is planned in advance. Even chaos is a device of this design. Even randomness and nothingness serve a purpose.”

Saladin gulped another drag from his pump, spewing smoke out in the form of sparkling stars, which levitated to the heavens, out of mortal sight.

“This higher power you speak of—it is not a singular entity. It is embedded in everything. The divine will is us. We are the higher power.”

Emilia pondered this apparent truth. Saladin, humbled, clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and bent his head backward, praying to the spectacle of everything around him.

“So, if what you say is true, then it was us that brought ourselves here. And this is true, we did choose to come here. But why is there a here or an us in the first place?” Emilia asked.

Saladin nodded, then spoke, “You ask the right questions. Curiosity is infinitely more powerful than wisdom. If the moment ever comes when you know everything, then truly you know nothing. Let me see, for you my friend, what it is you seek.”

Saladin meditated.

Emilia waited, her eyes leering over to the wall, those sandcastles still standing. Saladin whispered, under his breath, as if communing with an apparition from beyond, his voice hushed in spiritual reverence.

Emilia looked beside him, at his companion. Soelle was puffing smoke from her pump, glaring at the corner, uninterested in the conversation. Her long lashes flared with every cuff of smoke that rose through them. Emilia wondered why she was there. What insight did Soelle deliver to Saladin? What insight could he impart on her? Maybe it was a matter of yin and yang—the fountain of wisdom contrasted against an abyss of thoughtlessness. A necessary paradox, perhaps, to ensure the full spectrum of possibility, from positive to negative, whole to empty.

Emilia looked at her friend. She was sitting there, fidgeting, probably thinking about how terribly long today has been and how she wasn’t even supposed to be alive for it. Emilia almost laughed, but annulled the action because it was inappropriate, and her friend had been through enough trouble for one day.

Saladin finally sighed. Then he glistened, speaking, “My friend, you have taught me something today. You asked why the divine will is, and I have contemplated the reason, diving deep within myself for a proper view, only to realize I should have been looking outward!”

Saladin slapped his forehead. “You see, we already know the answer. We are here, are we not? So, this is why. By virtue of being at all, this is why we be. There is something because without something, nothing is undefined. Nothing requires something so it can be nothing. Its definition is dependent upon its opposite.”

Emilia and Lulu both looked at each other, confused. Saladin recognized their confusion, and insisted, “I know it seems insensible. But why are we here? We are here because if we weren’t here, we would be nowhere. And if we were nowhere, then we wouldn’t be at all—and there wouldn’t be a nowhere for us to be if we weren’t being at all. You have proven to me a wisdom I did not have before. That the question of why is answered by itself—why is why is why!”

Saladin roared with laughter, tears parading down his face.

His euphoria was infectious, and soon Emilia was laughing uncontrollably too, with Lulu following, and eventually even Soelle beheld them, diverting her attention away from her nails to watch the primates around her self-destruct in absurd relief. Though she did not partake herself, the fact she became intrigued at all was a testament to the dreadful delirium unfolding.

It wasn’t the truth Emilia had been seeking—it was so much more dooming. The truth of no truth. How haunting.

After everybody calmed, Saladin summoned a graveness to his demeanor, addressing Lulu directly, “My darling swan, it was you that desired most to come here. It is you that has a problem you cannot solve. Tell me, my friend, what is it that ails you? What wisdom do you seek?”

“I want to kill myself. I keep trying, but it’s impossible. It’s almost like I can’t die.” Lulu explicated to Saladin.

His Wiseness spoke, “Impermanence is impossible. Everything must come to an end. My darling swan, shall I guide you to what you seek?”

Lulu rubbed her chin, thinking. Then she said, “Yes, that is what I really want. I came to you for help because I knew you were the only one who could help. Your wisdom saves us all.”

Saladin bowed, humbling, “I am no wiser than a discarded shell on the beach. No wiser than a speck of dust on a shelf. You will see. I shall guide you to what you seek, but you must walk the path alone.”

Lulu nodded. “That’s fine. I have no qualms walking whatever path by myself.”

She got up from her seat, expecting to go somewhere.

Saladin smiled. “You will always find what you seek in the House of Saladin! May divine wisdom bless you, as you begin the journey toward your desire. Come, let us find what you seek…”

Saladin snapped.

A blast splattered her head all over the floor.

Emilia flinched, startled by the sudden boom. She reveled in horror as her friend stood motionless, her face missing, replaced by a hole of dangling strands, tentacles of gut and blood sprouting from a crater, her brain shattered to shreds, coils of it unraveled and stuck to her remaining bone like confetti. Her stance didn’t remain forever, and her body finally fell to the ground in a splashing thud.

Omar, who was behind her, cleaned his gun out of respect and concealed it away to its resting spot once more.

Emilia gasped in shock. She couldn’t say anything. The nausea that had been plaguing her since morning reached its breaking point, the contents of her stomach erupting from her mouth. Saladin winced, mourning the demise of his luxurious carpet.

With her insides cleared, Emilia screamed.

Soelle seemed amused. “Your friend is fine now. The best death is a surprise.”

That was all she had to say, redirecting her devotion back to her nails.

Saladin comforted Emilia, “My darling swan, she dives to her peace now! You must understand, I did only what she wanted me to do. Are you upset, my friend?”

He waited for Emilia’s composure to regain.

Once it did, Emilia, panting, spoke, “Y-Yes. Yes. I understand. Thank you. You are…” Emilia choked, chunks of vomit still clogging her throat. “You are most wise.”

Emilia rose, wobbling. Omar grasped her arms, assisting her in stabilizing. She strained her eyes as far from her friend’s corpse as she could, focusing intently on the sandcastles.

Saladin stepped beside her, observing them himself.

“Castles made of sand always fall in to the sea eventually…”

The sound of waves whispering.

Emilia, leaving, shut her eyes, the last image seen an impression of a sandcastle, as Omar and Saladin gripped her and led her outside.

|Act Trois|

I was alone again.

On the porch, overlooking a street steeped in drowsy dusk. The lamplights glowed fuzzy, balls of shiny fur humming in the surrounding night. Along the shadows, everything swirled like an abstract painting.

I looked for the painter’s brush, following the strokes, that every bit of dark which seemed out of place or smeared on. But I couldn’t find the fingers, folded on a stick, illustrating a new reality in the material of crushed powder and melted glass. I couldn’t find anyone

I sighed. Where had I been? What was I doing? Who have I become? Then I snickered. Like I ever knew who I was in the first place, let alone who I had transformed in to. Leave me alone. I didn’t want to be bothered by thoughts like that, empty and unhelpful as they are.

I was Emilia. And I needed a cigarette.

The sounds of sirens singing in delight burrowed its way through the drowsiness. I walked away from the place I had been, in to the path beside the street, joined by sleepy lamplights and intoxicated fireflies.

There were random strangers without faces. They weren’t walking anywhere; they just hung in the deeper portions of sight, clinging to darkness as if they were afraid of revealing their hideousness. I knew how that felt. I knew what it meant to hide myself away. Fuck, I needed a cigarette.

Bodyguards of the state were patrolling their areas, probably frustrated to be spending a perfectly lazy night exacting the neurotic policy of lords living in homes far away from such concerns. They carried their phallic extensions, loaded in harmful ornaments, always prepared for when the mood should sour suddenly, and chaos become comfortable in its own skin.

“Could I bother you for a smoke?” I asked one of the brutes.

Like a sulking gargoyle he gazed at me, in controlled ire, then faced away to watch other things. What a sullen loaf. No matter. I wandered further down the paved path, popping in and out of lamplights, each one more dazed than the last. It amazed me they even had any spark left. On a night like this?

Everything was so diffused. Quietness was quaking. Silence had violence. The moon, half-lit, smoked its own cigarette, a dreary squiggle of haze floating away from it, into the utter blackness of space.

The surface of the waves from a nearby riverway couldn’t even bother to reflect in a symmetrical, instead coloring the moon and stars onto its shady-sapphire surface in crayons and hatchets. The waves barely made any movement at all, tingling into triangular splash only when a duck paddled its way through. And even the ducks had their beaks at half-tilt, beady-eyes closed, feathers snoozing as they bumped off brick wall to brick wall, letting liquid inertia drag them by, slower than trees. And the trees even! Their leaves droopy, their branches sighing—the bark across their faces slung to the side in uninspired sadness. How blasé!

I wanted to shout, “Wake up!” to every passing thing, but I decided it wasn’t worth my time or energy. Then I embarrassed myself, realizing I was as allergic to effort as everything else had been on this night. At least we shared something in common.

“Do you have a cigarette I could borrow?” I queried one of the ducks while standing over a railing. His beak-snout didn’t even perk up in my direction, but he still quacked a negating quack, and drifted on from my dreams. What vermin.

Sometimes this city is a slumbering wasteland.

I dallied onward. Until I didn't recognize where I was anymore. Not that it looked any different. Just the same metropolitan mecca, intertwined by the same endless street with the same banal bazaars.

Napoleon must have lost his mind commuting across this city—no wonder he sought other shores. Such is the plight of conquerors I suppose. You wouldn't become a conqueror if you were content staying where you are.

Approaching through the veil, I spied a foggy fire. As I neared it, I kept the same pace, casual and observant. The source of conflagration was a vehicle, smashed upon by a fist of flames. How eerie. The car was doused in blaze, burning from the interior out. Its windows had been shattered, so the smoldering gift could swell instead of suffocate. And as I passed this burning car, I noticed nobody around. It was an elysian flame. The only soul was this fire, engaged by this metallic machine, which held it like a goblet, letting its insides crumple to ash and smoke without a single regard for itself.

The ethereal combustion, eternal in force.

I exited the area, leaving behind the effigy of rage and rebellion. Up ahead, a curious and callous sound—the sound of people. The sound of a crowd gathering, the hiccups, elbow-bumps, muted coughs, uncareful gossip. There was anticipation for something.

As I neared the end of the street, I scanned through the midnight mist to see the tower of Eiffel, erect in fireworks and lanterns. A bustle of randomly dressed persons were shuffled into lines, at the base of an enormous metal claw; within its palms a golden shuttle, mounted with silver wings and boosters.

On a platform overhanging the spectacle, two astronauts stood alongside a speaker, who announced in tremendous tone the events unfolding.

I roamed into the lagoon, slicing my way through dazed onlookers, through wondrous children, through trapped gazers. Up to the front, where I snuck under the velvet rope—when no one was looking, which was easy since most everyone stared at the spacecraft—and I tiptoed into my place in the front of the line. One of the pilots was down there, greeting people half-heartedly, as if the excitement of spaceflight had waned from him quite some time ago.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

Without looking at me, he said, “Somewhere far away, I hope. You mean to fly with us?”

“You’d really let me go with you? In to space?” I said, eyes deepening.

He waved me by, exclaiming, “Sure. Why not. You seem like you want to go. Why should I stop you from what you want?”

I giggled in glee, my face pelted by internal rain, frothing down my cheeks in a most unkept way. But I wasn’t embarrassed.

The pilot lifted the rope and allowed me to pass. I ambled down the railed path, up flights of stairs, winding steel grates, until I reached the entrance of the rocketship and was bestowed with my very own spacesuit and a bouquet of flowers. A French model kissed each of us as we passed through the door, in to a chamber of glittery buttons and deafening silicon-fences, supported in circular fashion around the whole corridor.

A fellow astronaut showed me to my seat, then strapped me in, whistling an old tune that soldiers used to whistle during the old war—the great one. None of them were great.

Even inside, I could still hear outside people shouting. They hollered farewells and “c’est la vie”, glad that they themselves didn’t have to ruin routine by hopping on an interstellar locomotion to nowhere. They were content to return to their lives, wandering from café to store to park, astonished by every new cage, yet unconcerned with doing anything about them. To walk among the ancient streets where knights and kings once galloped—now occupied by troopers and beggars. To ignore the refuge and embrace the resonant. To be vapid, empty ghosts, haunting a place that was happy when no one was there.

The disgruntled pilot entered, situating himself beside me. As he buckled in, he glanced at me, his face stone and sour, but encumbered with surprise. “I’ve never seen someone so happy to go into space before.”

I wiped my face dry as best I could, trying to feign my smile to death, but I couldn’t.

“I don’t know if it’s so much so going into space,” I said. “As it is a last-minute effort to forget I was never there to begin with.”

The pilot chuckled, then commanded his attention forward, to the great steering mechanisms, wheels of blasted fury. They sealed the door shut. This was it. I could feel the rumbling below me, bubbling up like a feverish nausea all its own, the ship rattling in unsettling pangs.

I reclaimed my composure, being as mature and disconnected as I could be about such a thing as what was happening. As if it was passé to be spacebound.

The countdown initiated. The two astronauts ahead of us clicked the ignition, tapped their knobs and buttons and googly gadgets. They acted as if it was simulation. As if it was vexation. As if it was something they just had to get through; a gallery or museum they hurry through, disregarding the depth of present art, eliminating the exposure to the past some revere—revere enough to have tombs built to honor these objects and their articulators.

“Have you ever seen a quasar before?” I burst out.

The pilot scratched his nose. “Only the kind I spread on my toast.”

They engaged the thrusting emotions, stirring up those memories of fuel and fusion. The resulting concoction was a nostalgic spark, a wistful thunderbolt to the cold heart of rocketship.

I turned to the other patrons beside myself, but I found them unrelatable. They all had tattered faces, worn with beaten expressions, speaking in a language I did not understand. I smiled at them though, and they smiled back, all of us connected by our collective odyssey. And the pilot, even, revealed a bar of chocolate candy from his sleeve like some kind of magician, passing it along to the younger ones next to me.

He also offered me a piece, expressing to me an amiable resentment, “It’s still a mystery to me why people want to follow the stars. They don’t go anywhere.”

I agreed with him, nibbling the sweet cocoa paste. A rapturous jubilance captured me, an overwhelming pulse of sincerity and sensation. It was like marinating in morphine.

“Prepare for ascent…” a robotic voice spoke.

I gripped the creases of my spacesuit, my stomach a cauldron of nervousness and neurosis. I was sweating. My anxiety had become palpable. The pilot noticed, nurturing his hand upon my shoulder, quite familiar with this situation, as if everyone got nervous every time they had to do this sort of thing.

“Don’t you worry,” he smirked. “Because we’re almost done.”

The pilot assured me so well that by the time he removed his hand, we had already speared through orbit. At last, we abandoned those apes. And now we were crawling through the muck of space.

Oxygen flickers on…

But I am breathless.

[fatal vore] Prison Rations

Looks like I forgot to post any fics here for a while owo;

Wolf!Red and Fox!Sans have been captured by humans. Everyone is sad and almost everyone dies.

2.9k words [on AO3]

Sans raised his skull at the thump that announced new arrivals, his triangular ears seeking the sound involuntarily. There were two skeleton hybrid monsters, a bunny and a mouse. The bunny was picking himself up off the floor. “Stay back!” he said, snatching up the mouse protectively. It was completely unnecessary. Sans wasn’t going to pounce on them. But of course they couldn’t be expected to know that. “Relax, pal,” he advised. “None of it’ll make any difference in the end.” The bunny stepped backward, putting some distance between himself and the fox, but immediately came up against the dingy concrete wall. He had round blue eyelights that could have imparted a measure of cheer to any place but this, one flickering and sparking as he tried in vain to defend himself. “Argh, why can’t I use any magic?” “Don’t you know? The humans won’t let anyone use magic.” There was no point explaining it to him but it wasn’t like Sans had anything better to do. “They’ve blocked it somehow. Or else I wouldn’t be in here waiting for you.” “Waiting?” The bunny pressed himself closer against the wall. “What’re you gonna do to me?” “Nothin’.” Sans shrugged. He was hungry, sure, but he wasn’t that desperate. The mouse lay curled up in the bunny’s hands, he noted with little real interest. It may well have given up. His tongue formed in anticipation, and he didn’t bother fighting it. Sans heard motion behind him. “Well. It was nice meetin’ ya, bunny.” Although they’d only exchanged a few words, he felt like under better circumstances they could have been good friends. But it didn’t help to dwell on the maybes. “What?” The bunny was unnerved by the implied goodbye and, unable to back away further, took a few cautious steps parallel to the wall. “Ooh. A bunny,” Red rumbled as he came up behind Sans. “Only one?” “There’s a mouse too,” Sans informed him, and turned away. He’d seen this too many times. The fact that it didn’t really horrify him anymore was horrifying in itself. “Oh, you’ve got the mousy there, huh? Lemme see ‘im. How’s he doin’?” “No! Leave us alone!” “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt ‘im.” “No! Let go!” There was a brief scuffle as Red overpowered the bunny. “You okay, mousy?” he addressed the mouse. “He seems pretty despondent.” That was for Sans’s benefit, but the fox refused to turn around. “All right. Let’s get on with it. C’mere.” Sans was startled as something pulled on his tail, and finally turned to see the bunny standing there. Sans took a step back, to make sure he wouldn’t latch onto his tail again. “You’ve gotta help me. The wolf, I think he’s gonna—” His plea was cut off as Red snatched him up by the ears. “Nope. You take this one.” The larger skeleton dropped the mouse into Sans’s hands. It was curled up tight and shivering. Sans hid it in his pocket; unlike the new arrivals, he and Red had been allowed to keep their clothes, although he couldn’t imagine what his brother would say if he saw how long they’d gone without washing. Red lifted the bunny over his skull, and the smaller monster began to panic in earnest at the sight of the open jaws below him. Sans let his eyelights drift toward the nondescript floor, but his ears naturally tracked the sound of the bunny’s shrieks and protests, as Red lowered him in. The wolf took his time, not dragging out the bunny’s torment, but not rushing either. By the time he’d gathered his prey’s legs and pelvis into his mouth and started to swallow, the bunny had broken into tears. It was enough for Sans, and he turned his skull away. Even with his ears folded in distaste, he could hear the bunny’s sobs muffled as Red closed his jaws, and finally silenced with the wolf’s last gulp. Sans stood where he was. He thought he might need a minute to compose himself before he faced Red, but he found himself indifferent. Nothing would change their situation. Neither he nor Red could have changed the bunny’s fate if they’d tried. He wasn’t avoiding looking at Red; he just didn’t have the motivation. “Sans,” Red called softly. He was resting on his belly with his arms folded under his skull, considerately disguising any sign of the bunny’s final struggles. Sans was glad for the hundredth time that the humans hadn’t denied them clothes, or he would’ve been able to see everything. “Don’t keep him waiting. Your mouse.” Sans pulled the mouse out of his pocket. It looked up at him, tiny bones clattering, hugging its knees to its rib cage. He grimaced. “It’ll be worse if you don’t,” Red reminded him. Of course, he hadn’t become a cannibal from day one. But their human captors were either unable or unwilling to provide them with monster food—they’d experimented at first, and in desperation he and Red had attempted to eat whatever they were given, but it wasn’t magic and they couldn’t absorb it. When the humans had first dropped skeleton mice in with them, they’d naturally assumed the mice were fellow prisoners, and companionably starved, until the mice dusted, never having been provided any food, and were replaced with new mice. It was only after Sans had succumbed to his latent vulpine instincts that they realized the mice were probably intended as food. And they were the first thing the humans had given the two monsters that they could actually eat. Sans was horrified and refused to repeat the act when the next pair of mice appeared. Red was desperately hungry by then and ate them immediately, justifying his actions by arguing that the mice were only going to starve to death slowly if he didn’t. The arrival of the fourth pair of mice some time later created an awkward situation. Sans wasn’t willing to deliberately eat a mouse, and Red was of the opinion that the doomed mice should be put out of their misery sooner rather than later. In the end, the mice huddled miserably in the corner for several days before Red took it upon himself to eat them. By the time the fifth pair of mice were introduced, Sans was dangerously hungry and allowed himself to be convinced that the more unresisting of the pair was better off eaten than left to Fall Down, and that became their system. Sans would only eat the mice that were already too far gone to protest, and Red took the rest. It didn’t bother him, he said; he was a wolf, after all. When the humans began to give them bunnies as well, Sans wouldn’t touch them. The mice were small enough that he could pretend just for a moment that he was eating something else, not a fellow monster, but the rabbits were too big, reminded him too much of himself, or worse, his brother. “I know,” Sans answered, ears pressed back in misery. He tossed the mouse onto his tongue and swallowed as quickly as he could. It was a bit like a monster candy—if candy had legs and fingers and gasped in shock when you ate it. He sat down and leaned against Red for comfort and to distract himself from the memory of the mouse in his mouth. The silence stretched out; they had nothing but time. “Why do they do it?” Sans said at last. “Hell if I know,” said Red. He probably didn’t want to rehash the same question they’d discussed so many times already. “I think they just like seeing monsters reduced to this … uncivilized behavior. They’re forcing us to do this in order to prove their superiority.” “Maybe. Maybe they just never did figure out monster food, and figured, well—they’re predatory monsters, so throw some prey monsters in and see what happens.” “You’ve got a lot of sympathy for humans all of a sudden.” “Nah. It just doesn’t bother me as much.” “’Cause you’re a wolf?” Sans didn’t really see the difference between a wolf and a fox in that respect. “’Cause I used to catch rabbits on my own now and then, before the whole thing with the humans.” Sans stopped breathing. “It’s natural,” Red said to defend himself. “Like I said. I’m a wolf.” “I guess,” Sans conceded. He hoped that blue-eyed bunny was finished suffering by now. *** “They’re gonna feed us again any day now,” said Sans. “Mm,” Red agreed, not even opening his eyes. The two spent a lot of time conserving energy. Sans reasoned that they didn’t want to encourage the humans to feed them any more often than they did. “We’re never gonna get out of here, are we?” Red was silent for a long time and Sans thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then: “They gotta run out of mice someday.” “Do they?” Sans wasn’t convinced. And besides, they might well just let them starve if they ran out of food, rather than set them free. Red really didn’t answer this time, and Sans let the silence stretch out. “There’s only one way out of here, really,” he said at last. “What’s that?” Red was curious but not hopeful. “The way all the bunnies go.” Red looked at him sharply. “I can’t keep doing this, Red.” “What are you saying? You know what happens if you try and starve yourself. You’ll just feel worse in the end.” “You must be pretty hungry by now, right?” “No. Don’t even think about it.” “It doesn’t bother you so much. You’re a wolf.” “You’re not a bunny.” “What’s the difference?” Sans sat up and started to shrug off his hoodie. “You’re not food.” “I’m made of magic, just like them.” Red scooted away from the fox, but Sans followed him. “You’re not even tempted?” he asked, as if it were hurtful. “Think about this, Sans.” The wolf was cornered against the wall now. “I have.” “Well I haven’t. Gimme some time.” “I’ll lose my nerve.” “That’s the idea.” “Please, Red, before they feed us again.” Sans pressed against the larger skeleton’s chest. At first Red turned his skull away toward the ceiling but gradually wore down and looked at Sans. The fox gave him an encouraging smile. Red pushed him off and for a moment Sans was disappointed. Then Red pushed him onto the floor, leaning over him as if to pin him down, and reached for Sans’s shorts. Of course, food didn’t wear clothes. That was how you knew it was food. Sans squirmed out of his remaining clothes. Red leaned in and licked his face. “I lied, you know. About the bunnies.” Of course. Red wouldn’t have hunted and eaten bunnies of his own free will; he’d just said that so that Sans wouldn’t feel so bad about shirking his share of the dirty work. Sans stared back at him, wondering if that changed everything or nothing. A moment passed and he felt the beginnings of relief and rejection, but then Red pushed forward and enveloped the fox’s skull in his jaws. Sans pushed upward, the wolf’s teeth scraping against his ears, the magic of his tongue soft against Sans’s skull, until he hit the back and had to wait for Red to swallow. Red grumbled and the sound seemed to come from all around him; he hoped it meant Red liked his taste. *** Not that much had changed, Red told himself. He still spent his days in captivity lying around, conserving energy, waiting to see how long it took him to Fall Down and whether or not anything would break his routine before that happened. Maybe the humans were using him to farm LV and would eventually kill him for the EXP, he thought, but had no one to tell about his theory. Sans’s hoodie was nicer to lie on but not as good company to curl up against as it had been with Sans in it. And the humans gave him the occasional skeleton fox instead of a bunny or mouse. He thought of them as larger, longer-tailed rabbits. Then one day there were two foxes, the taller one wrapped protectively around the shorter one, who shoved him off after they landed in order to get to his feet. The little one spotted Red immediately and took a defensive stance. Both foxes were ragged and battered, but he had a set of rather striking parallel scars across his eye socket, as if claws had gouged the bone. “Whoa, calm down.” Red ambled toward them. “How come there’s two of ya?” They glanced at each other, uncomprehending. Most likely the humans hadn’t told them why they were here. He had to assume they’d been recently captured, but it was hard to imagine; his own life before the humans’ cage seemed lost in the distant past. “Don’t come any closer!” the smaller fox snarled, ears pinned back aggressively. The other was more passive, but poised to act if necessary. Not that there was anything they could do; if they’d had magic they might have had a chance against Red, two-against-one. “Relax. I only need one of you.” This did not make them relax. The smaller one stepped back, and the taller one stepped closer to him, protectively. “Any volunteers?” Red asked. There weren’t, but the taller fox subtly tried to herd the smaller one away from the wolf. That was good enough for Red. He looked more filling, anyway. “No!” the smaller one shrieked as Red grabbed the other fox by the arm, and leapt at him. Red caught him by the front of his rib cage and pressed him down into the floor. He was a bit smaller than Sans had been. Red kept him pinned down as he pulled the taller fox close and readjusted his grip. The fox yelped as Red unceremoniously shoved his skull into his mouth. “How dare you! Stop! You’ll regret this!” the little one threatened, but Red ignored him, gulping his prey deeper even as the fox braced his feet against the floor to resist, eventually losing his grip as Red swallowed enough of his torso to lift him off the floor. The smaller one cursed and snarled as Red unhurriedly drew the tail and legs into his mouth. Only when he was finished did he lift his hand off the smaller fox and look at him, taking in the rage and tears and helplessness. “What’s your name, fox?” he asked. “You killed him!” the fox accused, making no move to stand up. “Well. Not yet.” Red smirked. “I’ll tear you to shreds. If I had my magic I’d—” “Yeah? And who should I beg for mercy when you’re making good on that promise?” “I have no name to give to a murdering cannibal like you.” “Huh. Makes sense.” Red stood and lumbered away. “But since you’re stuck here, you may as well have this.” He tossed Sans’s hoodie at the fox. The fox caught it and sat up to glare at him. “I’ll kill you in your sleep.” “You’re welcome to try.” Red curled up around his full belly on the hard floor. If the fox managed to kill him in spite of his size and LV, good for him. He could take a turn being the humans’ project. Either way, he would soon be no better than Red. *** “I don’t wanna talk about that part too much. But then one day the hatch in the ceiling opened and instead o’ humans there was my brother and half the Royal Guard. You should probably ask him to tell you about it.” “I’ve heard all his war stories a million times,” said the bunny. It was one of the neighbors’ kids; they had quite a litter, and Red hadn’t learned all their names. At least it wasn’t a skeleton monster. “How long were you captured for? Were you all alone?” “I couldn’t tell how long it was. There was no daylight in there.” “Weren’t you bored?” “Bored outta my mind.” “All by yourself?” “No,” Red admitted reluctantly. “You know Razz? He was there too, toward the end.” “I’ll ask him about it then! Since you won’t tell me.” “No, don’t bother him with that.” Red crouched down to whisper conspiratorially. “He lost someone in the war, you know. You don’t wanna bring up those memories.” “Oh.” The bunny considered this seriously, then looked up at him with wide innocent eyes. “Did you lose anyone?” For a moment Red was back in the room with Edge and an assortment of formidable canine monsters and one very battle-scarred fish, trying to remember enough details to identify all the monsters he could confirm were dead. He waited a few seconds to see if he could get out of answering, but the bunny just stared. “Yeah. I did too.” The bunny opened its mouth to ask another question and Red flinched, but thankfully they were interrupted. “What are you doing in here, Cinnamon?” Edge collected the bunny and herded it away. “I don’t know why you want to pester my brother. Even if he put any effort into storytelling, there’s no way to make sitting in a room for months on end sound interesting! Why don’t I tell you about how I tracked down the location of the facility where the humans were holding him? That’s much more exciting!” Red breathed a sigh of relief as the voices grew distant.