#<-has been transformed into a large raccoon

[mayathexpsychic]

FALL OUT BOY!!!!

[non-plutonian-druid]

look guys i actually did some spirit designs

[ID: the Hargreeves' spirits in the Paranatural au - or at least, the five of them that are kids in this au.

Luther's is an ape that looks like his body from the comics. Diego's is a creature that looks a bit like a small porcupine. Allison's is a large snake with its mouth duct taped shut. Klaus' is a blue raccoon with three eyes and a pink tail, and Viktor's is based off of the White Violin from the comics, except its head transforms into reaching arms. End ID.]

sorry, the ID got REALLY long this time. that's a summary for anyone scrolling, theres a more detailed one under the cut!

[ID: Luther's spirit is labelled First Simian In Space: THE MARTIAN APE. He looks like the ape that supplied Luther's body in the comics, drawn in the paranatural style; blue, with one eye. He is wearing an astronaut helmet and sitting in a coin operated rocket ship that is much too small for it. He has transformed the world around him into a scifi martian landscape; cardboard standups with doors and lockers scribbled on them are the only indication of the real world. Luther is sprawled on the ground staring in shock, while the Martian Ape says "Y'know, you should totally just kill your dad".

Diego's spirit is a very small creature that looks a bit like a porcupine.

Panel 1: Diego holds his spirit in his hands and says, "So, what's your name?". His spirit responds "I am called..."

Panel 2: A caption appears; Projectile Extraordinaire: KRAKEN. The image is in full color, focusing on Kraken, which glowers cutely and shows off her spines.

Panel 3: The same shot as panel one, except Diego now looks very skeptical. He says "..." and then "Why." Kraken responds "It sounded cool."

Allison's spirit is a giant green snake coiled around a tree branch, with a pattern down his back that looks like open mouths.

The first two images are centered on Allison, who is scowling in both. Someone unseen says "It can force people to do things, honey!" and "It's too dangerous to leave you alone with it." and finally, "So we fixed it."

The final image is of the spirit. He is captioned Muzzled Mind Controller: THE RUMOR. His mouth has been duct taped shut. He does not look pleased.

Klaus' spirit is a blue raccoon with dark purple legs and a fluffy striped pink tail. It also has three eyes.

Panel 1: The large colored closeup of Klaus' spirit. It is captioned Mystical Conartist: THE SEANCE.

Panel 2: Klaus asks it "With a name like that, what's your power?" The Seance, its nose just high enough to fit into frame, replies, "Oh, I can sense ghosts"

Panel 3: Klaus looks supremely unimpressed. In the background, a ghost says "Hi" to Allison and Luther, and they say "Oh, hey" back.

Panel 4: Klaus asks, "Seriously?"

Panel 5: The Seance, viewed from above, says "Hey, I can sense them even when they're not visible! Like behind walls and stuff!"

Panel 6: The Seance adds "Also I can float." It is demonstrating, floating about eye level with Klaus and emitting a cloud of cyan spectral energy as it does so. Klaus looks more pleased with this and says "Okay, that one's pretty good."

Viktor's spirit is a Wight, a spirit so warped by rage and pain that it has permanently been changed, its spectral energy has become white, and has gained massive, devastating power. It looks a lot like the design of the White Violin in the comics, but it manifests too many or too few arms from where its head should be.

There are three images of it. In the first, it is kneeling. It has manifested six arms in varying degrees of completeness, and all of them look sad.

In the second, the matter of its head has split into many small pieces that almost look like parts of mouths, save for two clawing hands. It screams, in the Wight spirit language from Paranatural, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME.

In the third, the largest, its knees buckle as it stands and manifests one reaching hand. It is captioned Violent White: THE WHITE VIOLIN. End ID]

[everlasting-rainfall]

In skin into fur, I couldn't help but latch onto that one brief mentioning of Lucci hanging out around the giraffe enclosure and wonder if that means Kaku is also there for the same reason.

This led to me thinking about how giraffes go about courting, and how males will just beat the shit out of each other with their necks for dominance. Like I'm picturing Kaku waiting until the object of his affection is walking by and then just slamming into a poor unfortunate zookeeper as a display of strength. He quickly whips around to see if they look impressed and is confused (and jealous) to see them fretting over the zookeeper he just obliterated.

At least the gift giving would be more tame though? Instead of finding dead animals in their locker there's just like... a large branch with lots of leaves sticking out of it

I’m glad that you liked the Animal Shifter AU, I’m thinking of calling it Skin into Fur AU but I also might not so feel free to just call it whatever you guys want as long as it isn’t something mean

Anyways let’s get into it!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Stalking, Violence, Human into Animal Transformation, Pee Mention, Dead Animals, Deception, Jealousy

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

Yeah! That does mean that that Kaku is here too, I’m glad that you picked up on it! Basically a lot of animal shifters have been known to make it so that they appear as regular animals although others do just decide to appear human

Some appear as house pets, others are wild animals like that raccoon behind the corner store, and others like Lucci choose to live in zoo’s or wildlife sanctuary’s

The purpose of it being a lot of things like some of them have simply decided to live out their lives there until the day that animal shifters take over the world and become the dominant species of earth while others use it as a way to more easily find mates and breed as a lot of people are around

An animal shifter will never take a normal animal as a mate though as that’s really weird even to them so typically an animal shifter will just take another animal shifter as a mate or a human they intend to court in a similar fashion to how an animal would until they eventually mate them turning them into an animal shifter too

Also I can’t say that I know too much about animal courtship methods but I do know something about giraffes and it’s that males will actually headbutt a female until they pee then they drink it to see if the female is fertile or something like that but let’s not think too much about that, yeah?

But that would be pretty interesting like that thing you brought up like let’s say that the male zookeeper is the one that’s been caring for Kaku way before you came along and Kaku has never had any problems with him

Doesn’t like him too much but he’s not a problem and he keeps the enclosure clean and sanitary while also keeping Kaku fed so he won’t cause any issues

But then comes the day that you get hired and I can imagine that when you walk in with the male zookeeper, it’s like a stereotypical scene where there’s like pink at the edges of the screen and some kind of romantic music in the background as Kaku looks at you

Definitely follows you around the enclosure a bunch eventually deciding that he wants you specifically as his mate but before he can start courting you, it seems like the male zookeeper has taken an interest in you too!! How dare he!!

(In actuality, all he did was ask if you wanted to go out to get some food together after work)

So next time that he gets a chance when you and the zookeeper are both near his enclosure, it’s time to show him just whose the better man so he waits for you to be watching then obliterates the male zookeeper just like you said

He’s so proud of himself, he took down the competition in one blow! Look at you running towards him, you’re likely going to accept him as your mate and let him fill you with his-! Wait, wait a second… You just ran past him…

You’re checking on the male zookeeper and dragging him off to safety which likely does not goes over well with Kaku, he won the fight so you should be recognizing him as the better person to mate but he has all of your attention…

Jealousy is rising and he figures it’s time to take matters into his own hands…

He’ll do exactly what Lucci did by leaving you gifts and things and it would be a hell of a lot tamer like it probably is branches but I can also see Kaku thinking of what human related things you might like

Like maybe a giraffe plush to remind you of him? That might get you accused of stealing though so this may take a while

Honestly though, his gift giving would definitely be a lot tamer than Lucci’s like if you worked there at the same time that Lucci’s S/O went missing then it’s probably worrying but at least it isn’t dead animals, yeah?

At most, it’s stuff that Kaku thinks you would enjoy and also things to help you get used to what’s soon going to be your new life as soon you’ll be an animal shifter just like him living in this zoo with him as another giraffe

Like I can just imagine him looking at a branch in his enclosure while he’s chomping down on some of the leaves and going “Hmm, that seems like it would be nice” then just getting offended when he checks around at night to see if you took it only to find it in the trash bin

How rude of you! But no matter, he doesn’t care too much as he knows that you’ll come around and even if you don’t then there’s not much that you can do about it as you’ll have to get used to it eventually when another giraffe mysteriously appears in the enclosure

[buckyarchives]

[A Raccoons Guide To Stealing A Cybernetic Arm]

bucky barnes x reader drabble

you're a guardian and after the war of New York, the team decides to settle with the Avengers for a while. Soon, a certain super-solider caught your attention, and you caught his.

“You cannot be serious, Steve?”

Bucky’s eyes glance from the six sittings sprawled on a couch and then, back to Steve, Steve just shrugged. “Listen. They've been fighting this just as long as we have, probably even longer. They need time and space to rest just, like all of us.”

“And they're helping rebuild the compound and get the world back in order,” Steve adds.

“God knows we need the help.” Bucky lets out a breath, looking at the still very disheveled courtyard. Courtesy of Thanos and his stupid ass army.

After the second snap by Bruce and the battle of New York. The guardians (along with the persuasion of Tony) decided to mellow down on earth for as long as they needed. Deciding that a little pause from saving the galaxy would do some good for them.

“Just be nice, buck.” Steve wore his infamous smile and gave bucky a pat on the back.

“Thanos's daughter and a tree are sitting in the living room.” bucky somewhat whisper-yelled. “And I'm convinced that little thing is trying to steal my arm.”

Steve rolled his eyes and simply walked away from the dumbfounded supersoldier. Bucky’s eyes glanced towards the group again, his eyes landed on you. With large bandages across your body from the battle, you were passed out and the raccoon lay sleeping on your stomach. Bucky decided not to question it then and there and just wandered off into the kitchen.

“The cyborgs staring at you,” Rocket spoke, his head lying back on the couch cushion.

You hummed, getting some shut-eye was hard in any world with a raccoon attached to your hip. “Leave him alone, Rocket. He's human and old, this stuff is very new to him.”

“That'd be a valid statement if it wasn't for that fact he was ogling at one of the only human-looking ones here.” Rocket spoke matter-of-factly.

You sat up, shoving the guardian off your stomach. “Get off of me, I'm getting food.”

Rocket fell to the side with an oomph and gave you a snarl. you just smiled and found your way to the kitchen. Your fingertips grazed upon the countertops as you walked around, your boots clicking quietly on the hard floor.

Openings a few cabinets and contains just to snoop, your eyes land on a plastic package labeled ‘Froot Roll-Ups.’ kleptomania wins again and you grab a few and stuff them into your coat pocket. Pulling yourself together, you open the fridge and pull out a container of leftovers.

“So, what's your shtick?” the bird avenger said from behind you, sitting next to the cyborg soldier. Bucky stared at you rather intensely.

“nice to meet you too. What if I don't have one?” you smiled at the two men.

Sam blows raspberries, “if you haven't noticed, everyone has one of those around here.”

You ignore the statement for a moment and throw the leftovers in the microwave, you gaze at Sam and bucky while leaning up against the counter. “And your shtick is flying? His is the arm or that serum?”

The two looked at each other and simple nod. You laugh quietly.

“Well I don't know, so I guess I’m just a normal being that can fight well.” you shrug.

The timer for the microwave beeped and you stuck a fork in the noodles and take a bite. Bucky snickered under his breath. “I watched you knock Thanos on his ass, I don't call that normal.”

“And you can somehow domestic a talking rodent.”

Your eyes shot to the supersoldier, raising your fork swiftly toward him, “Hey! Don't call rocket that. That is very rude.”

“Sorry.” he apologized quietly and raised his hands in defense.

“Anyways.” you roll your eyes. “How's the development going on the west wing?”

“Good, thanks to you guys.” Natasha practically strutted into the kitchen, wearing a warm smile. You nod in response. “Nebula and Mantis have been helping Tony with some stuff today.”

“Speaking of him, tony wants to throw a ‘small’ party tonight to celebrate and relax.” Natasha continued, throwing her hands up to make air quotes around the word small.

Sam scoffs, “I don't think any party tony has ever thrown had been small.”

“Or relaxing.” bucky grumbled.

“Sounds fun.” you shugged and waltz your way out of the kitchen. Mindlessly grabbing at some random pastries off the counter.

Bucky’s eyes followed you, looking you up and down. Noting the way your body swayed so calmly, despite the multiple wounds around your body.

You are quite beautiful– no way bucky could deny that, but he was almost convinced you had to be some godly being or alien race. You moved confidently and swiftly on that battlefield and even more, you had a good punch. And your best friend was a tree and a raccoon.

Sam nudged bucky’s side with an amused-curious look. Snapping him out of his gaze. “What's with the googly eyes at her?”

“What?” bucky practically winced back. “What are you talking about?”

Natasha and Sam both exchanged a knowing glance like they knew something bucky didn’t. A smirk rose to Natasha's face as she bowed her head to suppress a laugh. Bucky grew confused, and quite annoyed now.

“You've been watching her specifically since the guardians settled here,” Sam commented.

Another grumbled escaped bucky’s lips as he got up to leave the room as well, choosing to overlook the teasing comments from Natasha and Sam behind him. Bucky Barnes is due for a good nap.

Rocket spoke your name in a hushed tone, walking side by side with you, a teenage Groot stood close next to him. “What?”

“That soldier. The one with the long hair and beard.” Rocket's hands rose to his face to imitate a beard. Your eyebrows knot together.

“What about him?” you ask.

“He won't give me the arm, I need it.” Rocket whined and you swear you saw Groot roll his eyes. “Won't even let me near it!”

Rocket's multiple attempts to even just observe bucky’s cybernetic vibranium arm have been failures. Despite the bargaining, sneaking, and… attacking, the resistance from the avenger seemed to fuel Rocket's desire even more.

“What is your little infatuation with his arm?”

Rocket scoffs, and looks at you like you just said the most idiotic thing ever. A face you’re too familiar with from him. “Are you serious? It's so cool, I need it.”

“Listen to yourself rock, you are trying to take a human's arm away from him.” you stop walking to look down at him. He's too stubborn for his own good.

“He can get a new one!”

“You're horrible.” you huff and began to walk quickly through the compound's hallway. Rocket's protest began as he caught up to you, frantically grabbing at your arm.

“No, no, no, listen to me!” he shouts, “I have a plan!”

Rolling your eyes, you continue to walk. “Oh, amuse me.”

your word came out harsh, doused in a sarcastic tone. Rocket slid past you as you walked into the medical room to take your bandages off, considering they'd already healed. Groot followed close behind you and tapped away at his Nintendo Rocket stole from somewhere.

“So tonight you– hey! Are you even listening to me?” Rocket yelled as you more or less listen, busy unraveling the crusty white bandage around your shoulder. You hum in response.

Rocket hopped onto the table in front of you and grabbed you by your shoulder, ignoring the way you winced slightly at the way he grabbed you. asshole.

Rocket continued, eyes bored intensely into your very tired ones. “You are going to seduce that man and–”

“SEDUCE?” your eyes widen, “you want me to– what? I know you are crazy but have you lost your mind?”

“Yes, you are going to seduce him, get him vulnerable, maybe in bed, and then take his arm.” rocket finished and if it wasn't for the many years of friendship, you'd probably stab him for even thinking of using you for this. But stabbing has never really been off the table in the past.

“I am Groot.”

“Thank you!” you motion towards Groot. You shrug Rocket’s hands off you and stand up, “Groot’s right, I’m not sleeping with someone just to steal from them. That is one of my rules!”

“I didn’t say you had to sleep with him!” Rocket shouts

“I’m not doing it anyways!” you shout back

Rocket snarls, “you're a bad friend!”

“fine!”

The door swings open and the trio's head whips toward the entrance. Your face drops at the sight of a rather scared Bucky Barnes, standing there with a large gash in his flesh arm. His eyes scan the room and land on you. After noticing the blood drip down his arm, you're quick to grab some bandages and medicine. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Bucky eyes Groot and Rocket nervously as he walks past them and closer to you, “uh… yeah, got myself on one of the scraps of metal while helping clean up.”

“Should heal quick but Sam made me come here.” bucky continued, looking between you and Rocket as you get some alcohol from the cabinets. “I can leave… if you're in the middle of something.”

“No! Im just taking my bandages off.” you replied rather quickly, you can hear the two guardians snickering to themself. You rolled your eyes and focused back on bucky, “here, let me help.”

Bucky wanted to protest, but the words got caught in his throat and your hands are already on him. Your fingers grasp around his wrist and you gently tug at him to the sink, “im gonna pour this over the cut, okay?”

You're eyeing down bucky and suddenly he's hyper-aware of your touch, feeling hot. Bucky just nods with a straight face and you continue to clean the wound. Thankfully to the serum, stuff like this didn’t hurt, but you were still so gentle. Holding bucky as if he may break under your touch, a weird feeling shot through his body at that realization.

You hum as you start to wrap the bandage around his arm, you two now incredibly close. “You going to that party tonight?”

“Tonys? Im pretty sure I have to, or Steve will carry me there on his back.” bucky says dead serious but you still smile and giggle quietly. “you?”

Bucky just gawks as you smile, noticing the way your smile lines were more prominent now. “Yeah, all of the guardians are going, which– warning, will be very eventful. Wanda promised me a cool dress.”

You place the tape to secure the bandages and smooth it down, your touch lingering slightly on his arm. Bucky takes a sharp intake when you look back up to him, the lack of distance made his ears red.

You would hear Rocket laugh in the background, “I am groot.”

“Am not!” you shouted and quickly removed your fingers from bucky’s skin, leaving him feeling awkward and cold now. He hated feeling cold. Bucky caught his breath, not realizing he was holding it.

“Groots right and you know it!” the two continued snickered to themselves, Rocket dodging a hit to the head by you as they walked out of the medbay. The door banged as it shut, making bucky flinch slightly.

Confusion littered the soldier's face, “what did he say?”

“Oh- uhh, nothing, nothing to be worried about.” you quickly responded, struggling over your words and hands waving frantically in front of you.

“You sure?” bucky asked, his eyebrow quirked up slightly that mad him look hotter than you’d rather admit to yourself.

“Mmhmm.” you looked down, “I have to go get ready for later, be careful with that.” you motioned towards his arm.

Bucky smiles slightly, motioning toward your shoulder. “You too.”

“See you tonight then?” you smile back at him.

“See you tonight.”

You thought over that last exchange with bucky, you could practically feel his skin under yours lingering. You hadn't expected to be so close to him like that, remembering the way your breath caught in your throat when made eye contact with him. Maybe you wanted to try that out again tonight, and it's not because of Rocket, no matter how much he may be conviced you were.

“Hey! What about this one?” Gamora handed you a silk green dress. “I don't think green on green looks so good on me.”

You both laugh and you walked into the bathroom to change, Gamora spoke up again. “So what's going on with you and that supersoldier?”

“What?” you shouted from the bathroom, pulling the dress down and looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked quite good, running your hand down your hips.

You could hear Gamora scoff, “he's been staring at you like your a chunk of meat, and Groot told me you had a quote-unquote intimate moment with him earlier today.”

“Oh my god, I was just bandaging his arm.” you groan. Walking out of the bathroom to reveal yourself. “Anyways, do I look good?”

A loud gasp comes from Mantis from the doorway, she shouts your name making both of you flinch from her surprise visit. “You look so good!” she shouts before running towards you, getting a closer look at your dress.

“Let's go, let's go. Party isn't waiting on anyone!” Mantis ushered you and Gamora out of the bedroom.

Gamora shoots you a look that says ‘we’ll talk about this later’ and the three of you are off to a party.

you were instantly met with Thor, taking you in a huge bear hug. you’re still surprised at just the sight of him now. seeing him on the battlefield was another thing as well.

“tiny god! you look quite beautiful tonight!” Thor spoke as he half-crushed your body against his chest.

muffled by the crushing hug, “how many times to have to tell you, i’m not a god.”

he pulls back and dust off your shoulders politely. a huge enthusiastic smile on his face, Thor seemed chipper than usual after his redemption in battle. and getting his brother back.

“yes but you do fight like one.” Thor adds. you can only shake him off and go to find your group of friends.

And Natasha was right when she said no Tony Stark party could ever be small, with many unfamiliar faces in flashy dresses, holding glasses of liquor with happy smiles. You spot most of the guardians huddled around each other, with the addition of some avengers and new faces. You hear Drax call your name, barely audible through his obnoxious laughter. the smiling faces look good on everyone after this stupid war.

“Get your ass over here.” Drax yells. You sit next to Peter and Gamora. It seems the guardians have warmed up well with the other, Mantis had already started to begin with the party tricks. Many people around the room seemed surprised as her antennas lit up and she bends and reads other emotions at will, some more comfortable with it than others.

“I think we may need to borrow you when Tony doesn't leave his workshop.” pepper comments, her face tinted red from the alcohol and warm lights around the room.

“Aw, I don't think so.” Tony laughs before noticing that you had joined the party. His eye light up in your direction. “What party trick do you got over here? I didnt get the chance to see you fight.”

A sheepish smile grows on your face as you notice everyone's eye falls on you, even bucky as he hid himself behind Steve and Sam on the couch. He looked more or less bored to be here, maybe even a little uncomfortable. Yet his eyes stay on you, anticipating your next words.

You attempt to shake the stares off, “oh no, I don't have any tricks. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, I call bullshit.” Steve speaks up.

An exaggerated gasp comes from Sam, “you kiss your mother with that mouth, Roger?”

The avengers begin and finish up their teasing toward Steve. Midst the chaos you still notice bucky seemingly closing in on himself, making himself smaller behind his two friends.

“Anyways. You gotta show us.” Steve continued, turning his and everyone else attention back to you. “I saw you fighting and moving around like you weighed nothing, or the way could both take and hit a punch was just… nothing I've ever seen before.”

While Steve spoke you couldn't help but watch bucky getting up and leaving with a sour look on his face, you can't find yourself answering the captain's question. You just shrug with a shy smile, Gamora speaks up for you.

“Oh, she's shy about her abilities.” Gamora speaks, waving off the curious avengers. “let her be.”

You smile at her and excuse yourself from the group, you stand up and look around the room for bucky. You hoped he hadn't already left the party, maybe your hopes were too high that you'd be able to speak with bucky, possibly even share a drink or two.

In the middle of a group of people, you see the super soldier attempt to nudge his way through. Being stopped by random men in suits asking invasive questions and women trying to get much further than just a small conversation. You can see him roll his eyes so hard they practically reach the back of his head.

Bucky goes to turn around to rid of the crowd, but he begins to collide with one of the workers with a large tray of drinks in their hands. Bucky, along with the drinks and the worker start to fall, but your senses are quicker. Your hand rises towards them and the gravity shifts around bucky and the worker, making them lighter and stalling their fall. The drinks practically stop where they fell and the liquid floats through the air as if time has paused.

You walk towards the group and grab the drinks and plate before they fall and fix the gravitational shift. Bucky caught himself before he falls and his face is flushed with confusion as he attempts to grasp whatever you just did to him. He looks down at his hands and body before you, eyebrows knotted together. “What did you just do to me?”

“Nothing.” you smile innocently, handing one of the two drinks to bucky. “Cocktail?”

Bucky blinks, once, twice. Before hesitantly grabbing the drink in your hand and nodding. “Uh, sure.”

“Join me?” you ask, motioning towards the two empty seats at the bar. Bucky just nodded again and starts to follow you.

Sitting next to bucky, a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you, the sound of people chatting and laughing filtered out in the background. You ask for another drink and order bucky some Asgardian liquor, knowing of the serum's side effects. Handing it to him with soft eyes, yet he still seems to be pulling away from you.

“Do you have a problem with me, Barnes?” you ask rather abruptly, avoiding his eyes. A part of you didnt want to hear his response, in fear his response might be bad.

You can hear the nervousness in his voice when he stumbled over his response. “What? I mean no. no, of course not.”

Bucky lets out a rather shaky breath, you don't say anything and simply hum in response. Attempting to not push any further.

You noticed the way bucky swirled his drink around, he gulped before speaking up. “Honestly, you kinda scare me,” he confessed with a slightly nervous tone.

“Oh?” you had to push down a laugh. You decided to joke around, hoping to calm any anxieties the man next to you may have, “is it because im just so strong and so powerful?”

Bucky's lip quirks up slightly, “that, and…” he trails off and your smile drops slightly, zeroing in on him,

“And?”

He doesn't respond, “come on now, don't leave me hanging, sarge.”

The nickname knocked him back a little, coming from you at least. He contemplates his choices before speaking, continuing to swirl the Asgardian liquor around in his glass. Bucky's head rises and turns to you slowly, looking at you close in your eyes and deciding to take the leap.

“I’m attracted to you, and I don't know why.” the nerves catch up to him and he avoids your gaze, “and that scares me.”

You weren't going to flat-out lie and say those words didn’t arise something in you, making your face hot and ears red. Confidence oozed through you suddenly and you went to graze your hands across his jaw. “Do you really need a reason to be attracted to someone? It's just your body telling you what you want.”

“Is this you flirting with me?” Bucky's eyes narrow at your’s playfully, and a small grin fell on his lips.

You smile, “do you want it to be?”

Bucky’s eyes might have flashed towards your lips for a faltering moment. You noticed. Bucky blames it on the alcohol, for now, blames it on anything he can, but he needs more. So bucky’s leans over and looks at you sweetly, smiling. Your foot may have risen towards his calve. Bucky definitely noticed, looking you up and down. “What are you doing to me, doll?”

You simply smile and shrug. “I don't know, what am i doing to you?”

As bucky responded, you tried to focus on the words coming from his mouth, you really did. But certain someone caught your attention from behind bucky’s head, your face dropped slowly. Rocket stood with the largest grin on his face, his thumbs up and pointing excitedly to his left arm. God, if you could kill him right now, you would.

Bucky noticed the way your eye linger behind him and how your smile dropped, “what’s wrong?” he began to turn his head around but you were quicker, grabbing at his jaw and turning him back around.

“Nothing, I’m sorry, I just got distracted.” you looked into his eyes, your faces were much closer now and the tension between you two got thicker. All bucky wanted to do was tear straight through it, but he held himself back for now.

Bucky's eyes scan you up and down, his face falls and he pulls back. A disappointed sigh leaves his mouth. “I’m sorry, I should get back soon.”

the moment ends way too quickly, and bucky gets up from the barstool beside you. Any protest for him to stay fall short and his eyes linger on you as he leaves.

Your head falls flat on the bar and a loud groan escapes your lips, you cannot believe you embarrassed yourself like that, you'd probably already scared him off now. A squeak from the chair next to you and you're too bothered in your own self-pity to raise your head and look.

That is until you hear who speaks, “what's happened? You so had him on the ropes!” rockets annoying voice ring in your ears.

“You need to stop.” your state, your head raises so fast your are dizzy.

“What?” rocket argues back, “what the hell did I do?”

You stared back at him in disbelief, and annoyance. “You distracted me! And now he thinks im weird. So leave me alone and stop cock blocking me, dude!”

Rocket doesn't respond and you don't give him the time to. You're up on your feet and walking quickly out of the room. A huff escapes your lips as you dodge the many people throughout the compound, trying to find your temporary room.

You push past the door, still slightly angered, and take no time in throwing yourself on the bed.

Hoping– praying the day tomorrow will be better and come with better chances with the supersoldier. He clouded your mind as you attempted to sleep, even in your dreams.

[rallamajoop]

Resident Evil 6: When a franchise has an identity crisis

I can’t tell you RE6 is a better game than RE5, but if nothing else, it’s a far more interesting failure.

RE6 is famously the game that tried so hard to appeal to everyone that it wound up appealing to no-one: overlong, overproduced and utterly OTT. RE5 left the franchise at a crossroads: the previous two games were huge successes, but drew criticism for straying from the series’ horror roots. Faced with the choice of doubling down on the new direction or diverting back towards something more survival horror, Capcom attempted to do both, at once, and then some.

The new RE6 would have three different main campaigns (Chris & Piers, Leon & Helena, and Jake & Sherry), all aimed at different markets, plus a fourth which would unlock only after the previous three were completed, which was to be different again. It would have something for everyone! Provided ‘everyone’ wanted a co-op shooter experience with ALL the explosions, or was prepared to play through three different extended co-op experiences just to unlock the one that was kinda more designed to be played solo. Completing that fourth campaign would also be essential to ever finding out what the fuck was going on during those first three. How could that go wrong?

RE6 is, in other words, exactly what happens when a franchise has an identity crisis.

Experienced purely on the level of plot and cutscenes, RE6 remains hard to rate overall because while there are parts of this game I genuinely enjoyed in a way nothing in RE5 could boast, so many other parts of were legitimately uncomfortable to sit through, and in ways owing less to effective horror than to gratuitous, ugly misery porn.

Watch, as these bit characters you barely know die in horrible, gruesome ways in front of people who care about them! Watch! As Helena is finally reunited with the infected sister she committed treason to save, just in time to watch her beloved Deborah transform into a horrific butt-naked-lady monster who will spend the ensuing boss fight posing sexily while her tits show off their jiggle physics! It’s so traumatic for poor Helena, you have no idea!

Watch! As Chris reaches desperately for the outstretched fingers of StarryEyed McNewKid in the final seconds before his body erupts into a monster cocoon! Chris, dude, how long have you been in this business? He’s not falling off a rooftop, Chris! Grabbing his hand is not going to help!

It would all be hilarious if it wasn’t also all so skin-crawlingly unpleasant. There’s something uniquely gross about how these scenes play out, and largely not in the fun way.

With all four campaigns down, the big secret behind devastating bio-terror outbreaks in three different locations around the world turns out to be that some member of the Actual Illuminati gets Big Mad that Ada Wong won’t put out, and converts a loyal scientist (Carla) into an Ada-clone, who promptly sets out to end the world in a fit of clone-angst. There’s a bit more going on in some of the individual campaigns – Illuminati Dude also sets up a plot to kill the US president so he can’t reveal the truth about Raccoon City (whatever that means), then frames Leon and Helena for it. He’s also sent Sherry out to find Wesker’s son, whose blood may be the one cure for their latest alphabet-virus, Sherry little realising who she’s really working for. And the real Ada’s around too – you can tell her apart by how the clone doesn’t wear enough red to be the real deal.

Among the many problems with this game are that Illuminati Dude and clone!Ada are our only real villains, and neither are up to the franchise standard. Ada is just too well-established a character to work as the kind of villain who just wants-to-watch-the-world-burn – you can see the twist coming long, tiring hours before it hits. And Simmons (Illuminati Dude) just does not have any of the personality that makes people remember villains like Wesker or Salazar. There is some impressive creature design in this game – some of the boss monsters are far more memorable than the villains. But by this stage of franchise-transformation, your base level infected-enemy is just a generic guy with a machine gun and maybe an extra couple of eyes up close. It's a military shooter with occasional monsters, expecting you to mow down mooks without stopping for breath.

Speaking of military shooters, Chris has a campaign too, but for the life of me I could not tell you anything in it that matters to anyone else. He runs around a few locations, he fights a lot of monsters, completely fails to stop a missile launch, and loses people in the field. In the wake of RE5, the new game has honed in on the one defining feature of Chris’ character, Man With Lots Of Feelings About Losing People In The Field, and doubled down. Chris loses a lot of people in the field in this game.

The four campaigns in this game are separate enough that I’m going to talk about them that way, so let’s start with Chris.

Chris and Piers

Like the franchise as a whole, Chris is in the midst of his own identity crisis. Is running from place to place, fighting monsters and losing so many people in the field really his whole life now? Yes, Chris. Yes, it is. I don’t know what else to tell you.

As much shade as this game gets for not being proper horror, there’s a case to be made that Chris’ campaign is absolutely a horror story, just one about the specific horrors of toxic masculinity. Aww, Chris, are you having an alcohol-fuelled, amnesic breakdown after traumatically losing your whole team in the field? You think maybe you could use some therapy, some downtime? Well fuck you, Chris, what you need is for the one survivor of your big fuck-up to come yell at you, drag your amnesic ass back to base and give you a whole new team. Then you can go lose them all in the field again, this time down to the very last man, so you can learn how to be a fucking man about it! MEN DON’T GET TO HAVE FEELINGS!!

Chris persists in having feelings nonetheless, mostly rage and denial. By the end game, poor Chris is about half a breakdown away from the point where he could see his whole team smeared into a bloody pulp, and would still have to be dragged away screaming “noooooo we can still save them!!!” The sheer hilarity can only temper the misery so far.

Watch as Chris solemnly retrieves the C4 cartridge that is all that was left of the last (non-playable) survivor of the second team he’s lost this game, which game text will dutifully label as Marco’s C4. Watch the sadness in Chris’ eyes as he slaps it onto a door and blows it open! (That was Marco’s C4, Piers! He loved that C4! He took it everywhere with him! Now it’s as burned and blackened as he is!)

If you’re here for testosterone poisoning, Chris and Piers’ campaign is here for you. Up to this point in the series, one of Chris’ few vaguely-distinguishing features was how many women there were in his life, and how he generally managed not to be weird about that – Jill, Claire, Sheva, even Rebecca. In RE6, Chris is a man’s man in a man’s world, full of men – no lady partners around to slow down this Redfield!

Chris interacts with all of three women in the whole game, and is one of those is him telling a barmaid ‘Listen, sweetheart, you’re here to pour drinks and look pretty’ when she tries to cut him off during his drunken-amnesic opening sequence. Chris spends the rest of the game hunting clone!Ada after she gruesomely murders his first team in front of him. He never gets his final showdown with her. He never finds out she’s a clone. But he sure does get into a big punch-up with Leon when Leon has the gall to suggest they need to bring “Ada” in alive, not in a body bag (the clone herself slips away while they’re still arguing).

Chris does manage to be nicer to Sherry, at least, but his biggest interaction with Jake is similarly testosterone-laden. If you play these campaigns in their intended order, you’ll have the big Wesker-junior-reveal exposed for you in other people’s dialogue long before you’ll ever see Jake find out for himself. Chris decides this means he absolutely has to let Jake know that I Killed Your Father at the first possible opportunity, never mind that the lives of millions could hang on whether he and Jake can get on long enough to get out alive. He and Jake very nearly come to blows over it.

It’s all so ridiculous that even Piers calls him out on it; Chris simply insists that Jake “had a right to know.” Sure, but why now? For which matter, why would Jake suddenly care about the death of the evil, asshole deadbeat he hates so much? Oh, let’s not kid ourselves, it’s all because the writers wanted their big, tense, manly, “I killed your daddy!”-confrontation, and were going to shoehorn it in at any cost.

And yet, for all the bullshit that is Chris’ manly, manly campaign, I can’t completely hate it, because there’s this one bit at the end where Piers injects himself with a virus in a desperate moment, and promptly grows a giant mutant arm that shoots lightning. Like, if you are playing as Piers, you get to wield his mutant lightning arm through the remaining combat scenes.

The game even throws up a bunch of lightning-destructible barriers after the big boss battle just to give you more to do with it. I mean, how can you not love a thing like that? It’s amazing.

More importantly, why the fuck is there not more use of Piers’ horrifying lightning-shooting monster-arm in Chris/Piers fanfic? Do you all not see how 100% DTF Chris would be if he thought it had even a chance of helping convince Piers his monster-arm wasn’t so bad and he didn’t need to nobly stay behind to die? You can’t experience this game and tell me this isn’t the moment Chris has been building up for the whole damn campaign! Am I going to have to write monster-fucker!Chris myself?

Ahem.

Leon and Helena

Leon’s campaign does not start in a bar, comfortably far from the action. It starts in a presidential office, where Leon is already pointing a gun at the zombified PotUS, who is even now eating another victim.

“Don’t make me do this!” Leon begs, demonstrating that Chris has absolutely set the standard for seasoned-pros-still-living-in-absurd-denial that we can expect from everyone in this mad game. Leon, c’mon – wake up and smell the decomposition! Fuck, your boss is so far gone already they can probably smell him from the building next door!

Leon seems to be working presidential security, but he can’t be doing a very good job, considering that not only has the president been zombified on his watch, there’s a woman with a drawn firearm standing next to him in the president’s presence, and (in one of many record-scratch moments) we’re about to find out Leon hasn’t a clue who she is. Other games might have spent some time leading up to this moment, establishing how Leon, Helena and the ex-pres all got into this position. They might even have given us a scene or two to set up Leon’s relationship with said president, a man whose death has apparently been so traumatic that Leon’s forgotten everything he ever knew about zombies (and take note that this isn’t even Ashley’s-dad-the-president, it’s apparently some completely new guy, so even franchise vets are coming in blind). But not RE6! RE6 gives us a few seconds of flashback-montage right before Leon pulls the trigger, and gets right back to its regular schedule of misery porn.

Helena mutters, “It’s all my fault!” but refuses to elaborate in any way until they reach this cathedral on the other side of town (naturally hiding some kind of biotech lab facility) where it will all become clear. It takes a long time to get to the cathedral, however, because there’s a zombie outbreak in progress, and Leon and Helena keep stopping to watch people die.

There’s a man who wants help looking for his daughter! “We don’t have time!” says Helena. “We’ll make time!” says Leon. Well, they sure do make time to watch that newly-zombified daughter eat her father in a horrific scene. Yay! Later, they find a security feed showing a couple of helpless civilians desperately waving “HELP” signs at a security camera, like there’s going to be anyone checking security feeds in the midst of the zombie apocalypse. Leon watches the feed. The civilians persist in waving signs in one of those awkward video-game animation cycles. Leon watches some more. The signs wave some more. Finally, “we should go help them!” says Leon, as zombies show up to eat everyone present. Helena points out it may be a little late. It’s all so hilarible it hurts.

There’s no good reason why Helena can’t explain anything until they get to the cathedral. All she needs to say is that she’s a federal agent whose sister was taken hostage to force her to cooperate with the villains responsible for the president’s death, and who've been making bioweapons in a secret lab under the cathedral. You could question why a major bio-terror outbreak was necessary for one little act of political assassination, but because this is the Resident Evil universe, any evil worth doing is worth doing with zombies.

You could question exactly what Helena was forced to do, but the game isn’t interested in any of that logical plot stuff. You could question exactly why whatever the president was about to reveal about Raccoon City was worth a political assassination, but the game isn’t interested in politics either. We’re going to the cathedral! It’ll all be much easier to explain there! (It won’t be, we’re not here to explain anything.)

It doesn’t really get better from here. Leon’s campaign is, in short, an epic mess. But I can’t completely hate it, because despite all the bullshit material he’s working with, I am kind of into this take on Leon. This is a Leon who’s older, cooler and more sophisticated, and it just gets me something ridiculous. I’ve seen complaints from fans of the original RE4 who weren’t happy he’s more serious and has less goofy one-liners, which is probably fair – Leon still gets some good ones in, but Jake is hoarding most of the real one-liners in this game, and Leon does come across kind of absurdly over-earnest in a lot of early scenes. He's not going to be to everyone's taste.

But frankly, I’ll take this Leon over RE4’s any day. He feels so much closer to the version in the new games I fell for so hard (and not just because he can actually work with women without being weird about it). He also looks amazing in a suit and still has great chemistry with (real) Ada, and good god, they should just run away together already, those combined genetics would produce the coolest babies imaginable, you just try and tell me they wouldn’t!

And, y'know, sue me, but I kinda liked Helena too. I could do without the police-brutality backstory that she gets in documents, but she's a woman who has fucked up big time, who knows it, and is trying to make up for it, and that kind of complicated tends to be what gives me most of my female faves in this franchise.

Jake & Sherry

Much as I enjoyed Leon and Helena though, their campaign at large is still a pretty miserable slog. And having already sat through two long campaigns of indifferent misery porn, I can’t tell you what a breath of fresh air it was it reach Jake and Sherry’s story and realise, oh my god, I’m actually having a good time! They’re actually having some fun together! They have such great chemistry! Jake even has an actual character arc where he looks back on his life with new eyes and real drive to become a better person! Did I accidentally switch to a whole different game?

Jake (aka Wesker Junior) is the kind of character who shouldn’t work: an above-it-all edgelord mercenary asshole who sounds like everything wrong with this game in a nutshell. His reaction to discovering he might be carrying the cure to a zombie plague is to cheerfully put a price on his own blood in the millions. And yet, he’s refreshingly not awful to Sherry, quickly get attached to her and develops a great dynamic, and he’s young enough that he’s out of his depth a lot in the world of bio-terrorism, and not too uptight to admit it.

Finding out his father was none other than Wesker prompts some serious self-reflection, but we’re not going to watch him spend the rest of the game angsting over it, and even through all the horror he mostly seems to be having a good time. Jake’s great.

My only serious complaint about this campaign is that it’d be nice if they’d given Sherry a little more personality beyond being Jake’s no-nonsense handler. I like that she’s grown up from rescued-little-damsel into trusted agent, that she’s competent and comfortable enough with the world of bio-terror that nothing really fazes her (even if the game does get a little patronising about having Jake tackle her out of danger repeatedly), but she’s stuck being the straight-man to Jake’s wilder personality, and that’s just a bit disappointing.

For someone whose parents were neglectful Umbrella scientists responsible for throwing her into a world of horrific childhood trauma, Sherry comes across like she’s never questioned an authority figure in her life since, and that just doesn’t ring true to me. But at least she and Jake get to have friendly interactions with Leon and Helena, because god knows Chris and Piers can't ever be invited to a group cutscene without one of them having to hold the other back.

I can’t say whether I’d have enjoyed Jake’s storyline nearly so much had I not suffered through Chris and Leon’s first, but Jake’s feels like a far more complete story than either of the previous – and there’s a refreshing lack of stopping-to-watch-people-die-horribly. I don’t feel like I’m missing a preceding act’s worth of set-up, and clone!Ada has a smaller role, so the fact Sherry and Jake never find out what her deal is doesn’t feel like it leaves their story critically unfinished.

Which brings us to Ada’s campaign.

Ada

So here’s where we learn that the Ada in the purple dress is a clone created by that one Illuminati Dude she ghosted after he got too clingy. And by ‘we learn’ I mean ‘just the real Ada learns’, because god knows Chris and Leon never find out – and one can only imagine the kind of furious arguments they’re going to have over Ada’s character, motives, and whether she’s even alive or not after the events of the game. Even Ada only finds out her clone exists because the clone insists on trying to best her original, in that classic clone-angst way.

I have such conflicted feelings about Ada’s portrayal in this game. I’d like to be able to enjoy how unflappably cool she is, even when faced with evidence that the Literal Illuminati may be trying to make her the scapegoat for the apocalypse. But the reality is that Ada flaps so little she’s utterly one-note here – like, if you thought the RE4 remake Ada was a little limited in range, RE6 is exactly that, only more so, for much longer. Surely she should at least be annoyed that someone with Chris’ connections thinks she’s directly responsible for major bio-terror outbreaks in multiple countries? A little flap or two would go an awful long way here.

The most memorable part of Ada’s campaign is her final showdown with Carla, her clone – who mutates into a monster so huge and horrific that she basically becomes the whole battle stage, and it’s fantastically creepy and fucked-up (in a way I can actually enjoy, for a change). But most of the rest of Ada’s campaign is her wandering through her scheduled appearances in other characters’ stories, and there’s just not much of interest going on there. Time to fight all those same bosses that keep coming back over and over again!

A lot of what makes RE6 ultimately so unsatisfying is that in the end, thousands or millions of people have died around the world because of what amounts to bullshit illuminati infighting, well beyond the ken of any of the heroes running around the edges doing damage control. Even when Chris finally catches up with the Ada clone, it’s only to see her shot down by mysterious men in a black helicopter who just fly away out of the story again as inexplicably as they entered.

The clone’s not dead, of course – she gets right back up again in time for her boss fight with Ada. There’s no need for the helicopter in this scene at all – letting the Ada clone throw herself off the rooftop without being shot would have served the same narrative purpose. But throwing in an Illuminati drive-by shooting sure does underline how little real agency any of the heroes really have, when the world can be brought to the brink of a bio-terror apocalypse because one rich, white man couldn’t deal with the fact a woman said no to him.

No-one other than Ada even seems interested in the real truth: no-one asks who was flying the helicopter, or ends their campaign with any ‘time to get the rest of those Illuminati bastards’-declaration. Had RE6 been a smash-hit success, I don’t doubt that some kind of get-the-Illuminati plot would have come up in the sequel, but as it stands, Chris and Leon seem unbothered by being mere pawns in the schemes of the unknowably powerful. That’s not much of a happy note to end on.

In the end, the best thing about RE6 is that its reception was so tepid that it led directly to the IP being almost completely reinvented for RE7. And without a trainwreck on the scale of RE6, that might not have happened.

For all the parts of this story I like enough to wish they’d appeared in a better game, it’s hard to call RE6 any kind of success. But it’s at least an interesting failure – a fascinatingly awful trainwreck of an experience – and that’s at least something worth talking about.

[sagaduwyrm]

I write something! I did it! The muse didn't even suddenly abandon me partway through!

Against the Smoke of the City (I Marched)

There is a city called Gotham that doesn't exist, but by god the Daily Planet is going to find it. Or Gotham is so cursed the outside world doesn't even know it's there, but that's nothing in the face of a reporter's curiosity.

Just off I-nine in New Jersey, there is a city that doesn't exist.

Clark knows this because for weeks the Daily Planet has been researching every piece of evidence they could find to prove the city that doesn't exist, did exist.

It started with a piece on the richest companies in the world where the numbers just wouldn't add up. It was Marlene Samson's first big piece, and she was crying when she came to Dean Jones, the Daily Planet's best eye for tax returns and accounting, certain she had to have done something wrong. The rest of the Planet assumed that would be the end of it, extending Marlene their sympathies for running into so many problems on her first big job, but certain it would be solved soon with Dean looking at it.

It was not.

Three weeks later, Dean came in with raccoon eyes, greasy hair, and a four foot pile of files that he had to make Clark help him carry.

Apparently, Marlene didn't do anything wrong, it was just that there was a whole multi-billion dollar company somewhere on the East Coast that existed in government tax data, agreements with other companies, and nowhere else.

It should be noted that even as a company that regularly reported on alien invasions, Superman's love life, and Lex Luthor's newest schemes, this was not the conspiracy the Daily Planet expected to find on an average day.

The crown jewel of Dean's coffee-fueled hallucinogenic research binge was a series of photos of an unfamiliar logo for one Wayne Industries on a variety of products from luxury cars, to prosthetic limbs, to the coffee maker in the office, often covered by a sticker from whatever company didn't want to admit they were reselling the products of a nonexistent corporation. Under each logo was a minuscule maker's mark that said, "Made in New Jersey."

This was about when the whole thing stopped being a personal project and became a company-wide mystery that the Daily Planet was determined to solve.

Diane and Thea were the next to come up with something. They were the history buffs of the group, the ones who wrote about the historical value of such-and-such building or how this event a century ago affected the city today. Real interesting stuff, if a little niche for some of their readers.

"The New Jersey Mystery" it was called.

It was a whole thing for anyone interested in the historical urban development of the New England area. Clark didn't claim to understand it, but Diane said that a large number of historians, amateur and professional, believed that there was something off about the socio-economic development of New Jersey, particularly in the lack of big cities. According to the historical and modern shipping routes, there should have been a harbor city as big as Metropolis in the area, but there just… wasn't. It was, frankly, baffling and mildly concerning to most historians, according to Thea.

It wasn't hard to guess that a missing city and a missing company were more likely than not connected.

Catt Grant was the next to dig something up, finding an old piece from the gossip section about some kind of scandal, written by one Vicki Vale. Dale, the IT guy, managed to find some emails from her time in Metropolis that identified the mystery city as sitting on the Mullica River, next to the Great Bay. Mrs. Vale complained extensively about the swamp land around the city, apparently caused by a dam being built where it shouldn't some fifty years ago, now spread to the entire area. The waters were known to be toxic enough to kill a swimmer, but not dangerous enough for the municipal government to do something.

That was just the beginning of it. Jack found police reports about a mafioso that was to be sent back to New Jersey to be tried with the rest of his group. Stella traced charity funds back to a foundation in the city. Sawyer and Thea managed to make a model of the supposed dam, putting an exact location to the place.

So.

Just off I-nine in New Jersey, there is a city that doesn't exist. They don't know its name, size, or population, just that money comes flowing out, legally and illegally, but people stay in.

And it is Clark and Lois's responsibility to prove that it does exist, and, hopefully, to figure out why it's on no map, spoken by no human tongue, and invisible to satellites and Superman's gaze.

+++

They take a bus first. They'd both prefer to drive themselves, but James Pierceson managed to get an interview that suggested that only people who'd been before could find the city they were looking for. A train was out too, as even if the conductor was a native of the place, it still only had a small chance of passing through the city. That was all James had gotten out of his interview, though. Nothing about the city itself, the company that drew Daily Planet's eyes, nothing. Just how to get in, and a warning to make sure they could still get out afterward.

The bus is their only real option. It's a creaky old thing, grimy in all the wrong ways, but it had the only driver they found that knew where they were going.

Clark stares out the window as they ride, eyes on the road so he knows how to come back if he needs to. He watches as the woods slowly change into swamp land, filled with strange, nasty , brackish water that smells too much like corpses for comfort.

Lois is beside him, typing on her laptop, putting together everything they've found so far, ready for whatever they find in the city. She looks up when she feels him tense against her shoulder, just in time to see the sign as the bus passes.

Turn Back All, nailed to a half-dead tree, rusted red and falling apart.

"Just a little joke folks, the locals aren't fond of tourists so they like to scare 'em off if they can. Just means we're getting close." 

The rest of the bus is seemingly mollified by the bus driver's words, chattering about the fun local custom, but Clark's eyes are on the next sign, peeking out of the foliage on the other side of the bus.

Beware.

The bus goes silent.

Danger.

Leave This Place.

Warning: Death.

They just keep showing up, one after the other even as the sky gets darker with clouds and the rot in the air gets thicker. Some are clearly set up by the city, with neat lines and bright colors. Some are probably made by the citizens, big pieces of wood or metal covered in messy paint. A few are just paint on the trees, dripping like blood.

Go Away.

This Place is Not Safe.

Get Out.

"They might as well have said 'Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here,'" Lois mutters.

Clark snorts, but his eyes stay up. The bus is turning a corner, and a city is finally visible through the thick foliage.

It was tall, is Clark's first thought. There aren't any suburbs of short little houses for the bourgeoisie, no industrial outskirts, just crumbling brutalist architecture and gothic decor right from the entrance.

He can finally hear the city too. He doesn't know why he couldn't before, how it hid from Kryptonian ears, but it echoes in his ears now, gunshots and sirens and screams and whispers. He can't hear anything else on top of the noise, like the rest of the world no longer exists even to Superman's ears. He would have been afraid if his mind had room for it.

The bus is being swallowed, Clark was suddenly sure. The signs were the teeth of the great and terrible city he sees before him and soon they would pass through the maw and enter the place of no return. Soon they would be in the throat and it would convulse and throw them downward and then the city would digest them alive. Whatever was left would not be the same as what entered.

The bus stops at a rickety station just inside the city. The bus driver turns to them as the doors open and his smile is friendly but his eyes are distant and tired.

"Welcome to Gotham," he said. "The most cursed city in America."

"Good luck."

[adleryoung]

"Where is Didelphis now?" I asked Chloe.

"Last I heard," the duck replied, "she was locked in jail with Oonagh."

"What!?" I blurted. "In the same cell?"

"Tulgeyside only has one jail," Chloe explained. "With one cell in it. There isn't a lot of crime, and most of what there is can be punished with a day in the stocks."

"Why not put Didelphis in the stocks then?"

"She'd scream," Chloe answered without hesitation. "Plus she's too small to fit in the holes."

"Okay, but why lock them up together?? If they truly believe Oonagh bewitched Didelphis with black magick, then why in Fuma's creation did the town not separate them??"

"Where else could they put her?" Chloe replied. "Who wants to foster a shrill, obnoxious child who screeches constantly and is likely to return your hospitality by accusing you of witchcraft? No one really liked Didelphis before she was transformed, and now she's even worse. She's louder, with more stamina, and she can run faster."

"She got what she wanted," I objected. "She got Oonagh locked up, but you say she was still screeching? What for?"

"She wanted things. She demanded that the moment Oonagh was executed, all of the baking awards should be given to her since Oonagh had cheated by using witchcraft and she, Didelphis, was the one who truly deserved them. She also demanded to be given Oonagh's head as a trophy. She demanded apologies from all the baking judges that unfairly favored Oonagh over her. She demanded that lutes be outlawed and all songs less than 70 years old should be banned. She demanded that all the mels get haircuts and the femmes wear ankle-length skirts. The rabbits backed her up on those last two. There's more. The list goes on and on."

"Did Oonagh do or say anything in her defense?"

"Yes. Oonagh threatened to put Didelphis in timeout for a whole five minutes."

"Wow," I scoffed ironically. "Quite the disciplinarian. Well, at least we know where Didelphis is. The fact that no one particularly likes or cares about her could work to our advantage. The part that troubles me the most is the fact that this whole clown show sounds like it's just being done to pacify the rabbits of Bunkirk."

Suddenly, Burnside burst through the bushes into the circle.

"Got yer orders from the Ixies," she breathed excitedly, brandishing a large knife in each hand. "Who do ya need killed?? I'm ready to go buck wild on this here entire county! You give the word, an ever'body ever'where gonna find their insides on their outside right quick!"

"Save that for the worst case scenario," I advised.

"Is Miss Burnside all right?" Rebecca whispered. "I think she's foaming at the mouth."

"She's just excited at the chance to use her special talents," I whispered back. "They don't call her the Raccoon Monster for nothing."

"All right now," I called, holding up my hand for silence. "Everyone calm down. Burnside is to stay here in case any of the mob manage to come into the forest. If they make it this far, it means they're tough enough to be dangerous. Your mission may change if the situation changes, but right now I need a terrifyingly lethal personal bodyguard. Now, everyone keep quiet for a moment. I need to think of a plan."

I rubbed my face and began to ponder. What would Irenaeus do? Obviously, he'd ride into town astride Bucephalus, hacking and hewing right and left with his deadly sword. Burnside would love that, but unfortunately I was not cut out for such heroics - and besides, I couldn't leave this stone circle.

If I could scry the jail, I could get Oonagh out of there … but this idea had problems as well. Scrying would require me to go through the Gate, and I still wasn't confident about managing the time slips. I could keep the discrepancy down to a minute or two, MAYBE, but was it worth the risk? I decided it was not, because I recalled that the rabbits had been able to prevent me from scrying beyond the woods. Supposedly they did it by praying (of which I was highly skeptical) and there was no reason to assume that they had lowered the barrier, which meant that using the scry tower would likely be a waste of time.

Arrgh, I needed to come up with a plan! I had to fix this! This whole mess was my fault, because I thought it would be a laugh to turn this old hag into a child and have her adopted by her mortal enemy! I must have been insane to think … wait … could the solution be as simple as turning Didelphis back into a crone? I could undo the transmogrification from here, without having to see Didelphis or even know where she was.

But even if she turned back into an old crone, how would that solve this predicament? There would have to be a way to incriminate Didelphis and blackmail her into silence, otherwise she could still blame the whole thing on Oonagh. On further reflection, blackmail would require establishing contact, proving that we had the incriminating evidence, and making our threats. I didn't have time. The possum would have to be framed. Could we plant evidence at her shack to imply that she had bewitched herself with an evil pie, in a desperate attempt to discredit her rival? Would it be possible to do such a thing without violating Thorwald's Edict regarding elves and the truth?

Suddenly Ash's little book began to feel hot in my Elfintory.

[fonulyn]

I played the Resident Evil 4 demo and let me say *chef's kiss* I did want to give my opinion about it! One of the first things I've noticed is that they absolutely gave Leon a form of PTSD from Raccoon City and I'm glad they did. That might sound weird, but I can't believe he didn't walk away without trauma. I mean, this dude was literally fighting for his life for more than twenty-four hours. So, the fact that it shows in his face and mannerisms speaks volumes about the detail done in this game. Is he still giving those cheesy one-liners? Yeah. No one has to worry about it. Is it still challenging? I died. Multiple times. One of the aspects I loved about it was the added stealth and the fact that there will be times that you have to use it. You don't have to, but Jesus Christ, use it! The developers at Capcom really did want to respect the original game and there were even interviews showing their doubts about even remaking this one since they really do consider the original a masterpiece in their eyes. All in all, don't think of this as a replacement, but more of as a game that could be built upon since gaming really has transformed into a beast of its own making.

i'm glad you enjoyed the demo. and i hope you'll have fun with the full game when it comes out, too! i'm sure if you liked the demo this much you'll love the game too! :)

altho i must say, the thought that you can somehow see someone's depression or trauma on their face and in their expressions is... not something i find realistic or something to strive for in media. i know people who have been severely depressed but it doesn't outwardly show in their expressions. so giving Leon super low eyebrows and making him look stern is, in my opinion, at best a childish and lazy way of trying to portray trauma, if that's what they're doing with it. how a person looks has no automatic relation to how they feel.

i agree with you 100% that Leon definitely walked away from Raccoon City with trauma. that's not at all what i'm trying to criticize. but i'm so tired of this fandom equating someone's resting face or expression with what they feel inside. (not directed at you, specifically, just the fandom at large). how does one look depressed or traumatized? it's just not a thing.

also, I don't mind getting occasional messages about the remake, but I just want to reiterate something: I am not going to play it when it comes out. I am not going to excitedly look for new content about it. i have the tag blocked for a reason.

sometimes i might venture out and look at gifs or opinions about it, hell, i even reblogged some of the things i actually liked! but I've gotten multiple messages from (well meaning and nice) people trying to tell me to "just enjoy the game!" and I have to say i'm feeling a little pressured to do something i have no intentions to do.

i wish that you all have LOADS of fun playing the remake! i hope you'll enjoy yourself and i hope you get to be super excited about it! i genuinely do!

but at the same time, please allow me to not join in on the hype.

[darkestprompts]

What about DD characters as animals in general instead of dogs. BH being a barn owl is a popular one and I can't see it any other way. GR would be a secretary bird or any other kind of graceful bird. That one I picked specifically because they are vicious killers despite looking beautiful. Jester as a maned wolf would be fitting. Red and black color scheme with lanky legs and strange barks

I’m gonna end up doing an animal behavior especialization course for all the wrong reasons. Let’s fucking go!

Some of the heroes come with pre-baked animal themes that are obvious, like BH and raptor birds, SB and serpents/cobras, Houndmaster and dogs. PD is probably meant to be some kind of corvid. I think all of those fit well enough and require no explanation.

I like your Secretary Bird idea for GR, they are not only graceful, but also quick and precise. I like to imagine that her husband would have been a snake she knocked on the head. 

While maned wolves have the right visuals for Jester... Idk, they are known for being shy loners. He's more of a marmoset. They have adapted to urban areas and live in groups. The noisy little bastards will break into your home, eat your food and then throw stuff at you. Or a ferret? Slinky little dudes that need a *lot* of play and socialization. Super curious too.

Antiquarian is a squirrel. Hoarding little jerk that doesn't fear god nor man. Five ounces of whoopass.

MAA I imagine as a big proud buffaloo. Chilling by the water until some dumbass predator decides it wants to be yeeted 10 feet in the air and then skewered. Gotta protect the herd.

Leper is like... an elephant. Super smart and caring gentle giants but also will destroy you if you piss them off. No kidding, they will actually seek out humans to take revenge and wreck their entire shit.

I’m torn with Hellion. I like the lioness theme** of her CC trinket and it kind of fits the fact that she’s a loner, but only because she was cast out by her people, who are definitely war-like hunters. But did you know that a jaguar has more bite power despite the smaller size? They are less about running down prey and more about powerful, decisive blows. Their jaws are adapted to crush skulls! Since Hellion is a high damage fighter that gets debuffs the longer she uses her skills, that aspect fits her better... Maybe her problem was being a jaguar among lions.

** I should acknowledge that Hellion has both a wolf theme and a “warhawk” theme. I didn’t opt for wolves because they are primarily endurance hunters that rely heavily on tactics, coordination and patience to take down large prey, since they are much smaller than large cats. And the raptor theme fits in much better with BH and GR.

HWM is a trash panda. It’s true. Listen. Raccoons are urban animals (which by itself requires smarts), that can survive on anything, have little skillful hands and like to hang out on their own. Trash. Panda. Boy.

Vestal... Maybe a horse? A domesticated prey animal that can therefore be skittish, but by god if it fights back your life is over. Otherwise can be helpful and sociable, and help people in medical situations. I feel like a lot of it applies to Crusader too, except it’s more that he’s a farm animal repurposed for battle and made to look imposing and intimidating... Vestal is like a sweet therapy pony and Crusader is a warhorse that bites.

Flagellant is a badger. He just is. He’s the motherfucker getting bitten by an apex predator 10 times his size, shaking himself off and turning back to intimidate the shit out of them. Badger Flagellant don’t give a fuck.

Abom in human form makes me think of a fox. Scared of people, hunted by humans and larger prey animals, crafty, gets a bad rap. Transformed abom is something crazy like a bearmoose.

Occultist... I’d say some type of highly intelligent parrot. What’s more notable about their intelligence is their language skills, after all, and Alhazred is a liberal arts guy. Also shows his fun/silly side (he sings camp songs, come on).

Arbalest could be an ibex. Herd animal that nonetheless likes to go out and explore and whose main defense tactic is staying out of range (but can still break your bones if you push your luck). 

[leafytaffy]

So basically I found out I assign animal qualities to Everhood characters a lot

Gonna make a list of the characters and what animals they are in my headcanons; as in literally or traits they have based off said species

Pink: wolf. Wolf Pink is a wolf to me it even works thematically like. Chasing a rabbit. The misunderstood “big bad wolf,” something demonized by everyone yet is actually not in the wrong. Yeah. I need to draw them with pointed ears and a tail more but they have fangs even so. But! They also can purr! And yip like a fox when excited or wanting to call Rasta from far away!

Rasta Beast: It’s just canon they’re a unicorn but I also love to think they make chuffs and roars like a tiger <3 they also give off a lot of large dog energy, hell, Rottweilers were and still are the inspiration for how I draw them! Also such malamute energy in their design as well

Brown Mage: bear bear BEAR. BEAR IN THE GAY SENSE AND ANIMAL SENSE. Big fat hairy guy!!!!! Also sits in their cave alone eating and eating, like a bear (the animal)… I also draw them with some badger like qualities as well, but nothing aside from being human originally explains their long, luscious, wavy hair that probably has mats and knots and hasn’t been washed or brushed in eons

Shopkeeper: a snake! Specifically a hognose snake! Mainly because of the head shape, but also because it sorta fits with their profession as a florist/gardener as hognose snakes are known to burrow!! I can imagine them digging a hole to plant some flowers by using their snout, hehe..

Blue Thief: oh man. This little guy is purse dog coded. But getting into specifics, Blue was probably once an actual gnome! How they ended up the way they are now is… gruesome, though. They defected from their mage status by ripping their gem out. Of their forehead. Kickstarting the memory issues. Then a ton of surgeries trying to fix them that ended up botched, getting worse and worse until nearly nothing inside could be salvaged, leading to their body being scooped out and stuffed. Blue is just a living plush/taxidermy, their limbs lock back in place via their bones, but their skin still has to be sewn together again. I got off topic though, animal traits I think they have is a whole hodgepodge of stuff. They purr and make biscuits like a cat and have the same climbing ability, they have cheek pouches like a hamster, paw pads for general stealth, and fangs like a cat or dog. I love my little dog-cat-hamster-raccoon-hedgehog thing that is Blue <3

Green: if you’ve seen my art you know I see Green as a bird. Green just has that messed up bird energy + they have the claws. I feel like they were once human, but then began to transform into a bird-like monster via the gem’s influence. In the end though, they now look the way they do thanks to tearing their original body to shreds… Poor Green will make nests out of three race cars and some dice, like a pigeon. Will also purr and coo like a chicken (and also do warning/threat squawks like one too)

Purple: unlike Brown and Green, they started as a furry, a goat to be specific! Purple was a goat person about to be sacrificed, until they found Everhood, and unfortunately taken in by Gold Pig with the promise of power and shelter. Over time, they have transformed due to the influence of the gem and the magic they performed. Now, they are some sort of void-like creature with only tentacles that serve as a body and limbs, mostly comparable to a jellyfish.

Zigg: hairless cat <3

Muck and Flan: these guys have such salamander energy tbh. Feed them worms. I love drawing them as big goo dragons like Goodra which is one of my top 3 favorite Pokémon <3

Reese: I don’t headcanon them as having any animal traits, but I do think if they were an animal they would be a horse.

Noseferatchu: classic vampire, but because of a lot of general vampire headcanons I have, Nose is a big leech guy pretty much! Bring back leech vampires leeches are so cool and one of my fave animals </3

Vampire Kid: still a leech but has some bat traits as well!! Used to rock themselves to sleep as a baby hanging upside down like baby bats do…

[legend-collection]

Obake

Obake and bakemono are a class of yōkai, preternatural creatures in Japanese folklore. Literally, the terms mean a thing that changes, referring to a state of transformation or shapeshifting.

These words are often translated as "ghost", but primarily they refer to living things or supernatural beings who have taken on a temporary transformation, and these bakemono are distinct from the spirits of the dead. However, as a secondary usage, the term obake can be a synonym for yūrei, the ghost of a deceased human being.

Kasa-obake Yokai by Voidzurf on DeviantArt

A bakemono's true form may be an animal such as a fox (kitsune), a raccoon dog (bake-danuki), a badger (mujina), a transforming cat (bakeneko), the spirit of a plant—such as a kodama, or an inanimate object which may possess a soul in Shinto and other animistic traditions. Obake derived from household objects are often called tsukumogami.

A bakemono usually either disguises itself as a human or appears in a strange or terrifying form such as a hitotsume-kozō, an ōnyūdō, or a noppera-bō. In common usage, any bizarre apparition can be referred to as a bakemono or an obake whether or not it is believed to have some other form, making the terms roughly synonymous with yōkai.

Due to the influence of a large number of Hawaiian population with Japanese ancestry, on the islands of Hawaii the term obake has found its way into the dialect of the local people. Some Japanese stories concerning these creatures have found their way into local culture in Hawaii: numerous sightings of kappa have been reported on the islands, and the Japanese faceless ghosts called noppera-bō have also become well known in Hawaii under the name mujina. This name confusion seems to have stemmed from a story by Lafcadio Hearn titled "Mujina", a story about a badger (mujina) which takes the form of a noppera-bō, rather than being one itself, which first introduced the faceless ghost to the Western world.

Hawaiian folklorist Glen Grant was known for his Obake Files, a series of reports he developed about supernatural incidents in Hawaii. The grand bulk of these incidents and reports were of Japanese origin or concerned obake.

[icethewolf20025]

She wasn't a werewolf exactly. I mean, she said she was, and she does transform on a full moon. I'm a witch, and all the other werewolves I've interacted with have been intimidating. Large when they were transformed, and rather gruff otherwise. Closed off, like they were trying not to hurt anyone. Merripen was different. She was super sweet, but the other werewolves didn't know what to make of her. So much so that about a week ago they had just dropped her off on my doorstep. I had startled when I heard the knock. It was after my shop's hours the sign was flipped to closed. hurried to open the door. A werewolf stood, in human form, in front of me.

"Hello? We're closed." I said

"I'm very sorry about this" He said, "I've heard you were dating Merripen. We have her in a carrier here. She's just so much all the time. Please, take her." He dropped a large cat carrier and ran away.

I kind of understand why they gave her to me. She acts more like a puppy than a big scary werewolf. She begs the butcher for scraps and play wrestles with the alley cats. She's always up for cuddles and has an IQ of a dust bunny

"Hey, heyheyheyhey wanna play! brought horne a new friend!" I looked up to see my girlfriend holding a raccoon. The raccoon looked perfectly happy to be held. I tried to hide my smile.

"Merripen, just cause it's friend-shaped doesn't mean it's a friend." I didn't have to look at her to know she was pouting knew that later I would be putting out a food dish for the raccoon, but for now, I would just hope that she would see reason and put the poor thing outside. smiled and shook my head. "I love you, but put it outside." She smiled.

"I love you too!"

[eabwriting2023]

Who Am I? Day Thirteen

I know that I am not a child that seeks approval from their parents. I am not small or know little things.

I feel I am expressive. My vocabulary is varied.

I know I am not an animal because I stand on two feet. When I speak out into the void the words I want to say come out of my mouth with ease.

I do not know where I am but I can easily describe it. I stand on grimy titles with bare feet. My toes are jagged and long. The walls are made from the same concrete as the floor is, devoid of any colour. It looks as if I am trapped inside a small box room. Many metal bars from ceiling to the floor block the entrance. There is no way in or out.

I take a closer look at my appearance and clothing. There are no mirrors in this miniature space. There is a rickety toilet attached to the tiled wall, and one insecure bed frame screwed very loosely.

I sit upon this bed which has scratchy covers and take in what I am wearing. Clothing which resembles pjs. Black and white pinned stripes printed out in a landscape pattern.

I feel my hair. I do have some although it feels mangled and tatted, long and bushy. There is a high chance I must be female which becomes clearer as I touch my chest. Large breasts underneath my buttoned up shirt helps understand exactly who I am.

My body is weary and my eyes feel heavy. Whatever has happened me obviously took all of my strength. I peer around this tiny box of a room to try to piece together any sort of clue but this shell gives very little away. This cell has no personality, nothing to tell me what kind of person I am.

I look down at my ankles suddenly because pain is starting to make feel queazy. My left ankle, as I felt, looks as if I have been cut by a sharp blade of some sort. There is no blood pouring from my skin anymore but deep scratches have been left behind.

I go to touch the wound very slowly and carefully with the tips of my fingers, the pain pulses around my skin making me feel dizzy.

I can’t hold this in any longer. I dash over to the toilet in one corner of the cell barely holding on to vomit.

I am crouched upon the cold tilted floor, with my brown messy hair dropping down the metal seat. I try to contain the mess but it’s impossible.

My head spins like a waltzer on a funfair. Vomit pours out of my mouth with no control. I feel a dreaded pit in my stomach crawling to get out. I just need whatever nightmare this is to just go away.

It’s no mirror, but I see a warped version of myself in the toilet lid pressed up against wall. After catching my breath I take a good hard look at my features.

I look middle aged. Perhaps I have children, a husband, perhaps I am a spy or something dangerous like that. My pupils are hazel but sunken. Dark, purple bags with wrinkled skin.

I am as grey as the walls and floor inside this place.

I wobble but stand up using the toilet seat for stability. My legs are jelly as I walk over to the cell bars. Like the inside of this room, outside is dark and gloomy, absent of any sort of colour. I cannot work out where I am yet alone who I am because everything looks so similar.

“Hello?” I say croaking out into the void trying to squeeze my arms through the bars.

Silence. Just dead silence. I try again, but like last time no answer. I’m beginning to realise perhaps I am alone in whatever place this is.

I sit on the disgusting floor, my legs outstretched in front of me, hope all gone. There is no way out and even if there was, I knew not who I am, I had no where to turn too.

I sit for what feels like hours in the darkness starting onwards until I hear a scurry of someone or something across the floor on the other side…

This is definitely not human as I can tell it walks on all fours. I feel it’s heartbeat edging ever closer and an odd sort of feeling transforms my mind. I’m hungry and I’m desperate for its flesh.

Out of the blackness, a tiny snout pops out with matted fur and a bushy tail. A raccoon of some sort crawling around. Without warning, without consultation between body and head, my spindly arms reach out for its tiny body, now limp with fear. My fingernails are long and grubby, like a set of knives of my own.

The raccoon creature is pulled towards me and into the cell as I devour its skin and bone. I am bloody but refreshed and full of energy. I feel as if I can accomplish anything.

Rising to my feet, I try to pull the metal bars apart just with the strength of my two arms, nothing can stop me now…

What looks like a fully grown human comes marching past. Without any regrets, the figure pulls out a weapon and shoots me in the head. All I see is gloom within my eyes clouded over.

[theultimatefan]

Bernthal, Gunn, ‘Charmed’ Duo, Cullen, Lee Added To FAN EXPO New Orleans Celebrity Lineup, Jan. 5-7

Jon Bernthal (“The Punisher,” “The Walking Dead”), Sean Gunn (Guardians of the Galaxy, “Avengers: Infinity War”), the “Charmed” duo of Holly Marie Combs and Rose McGowan, Peter Cullen (Transformers) and Jason Lee (Vanilla Sky, Almost Famous) have been added to the celebrity lineup at FAN EXPO New Orleans, set for January 5-7, 2024, at the Ernest N. Morial Convention Center.

They join a standout roster of stars at FAN EXPO New Orleans that includes Danny Trejo (Machete, The Book of Boba Fett), the "Daredevil" tandem of Charlie Cox and Vincent D'Onofrio, Katee Sackhoff (Star Wars’ “The Mandalorian”) and voice acting stars of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” Barry Gordon (“Donatello”), Cam Clarke (“Leonardo”), Townsend Coleman (“Michelango”) and Rob Paulsen (“Raphael”).

Bernthal played the lead “Frank Castle” in the Netflix Marvel series “Daredevil” after a popular run as “Shane Walsh” in the AMC hit drama “The Walking Dead.” The classically trained Bernthal most recently starred in last year’s “American Gigolo” on Showtime and has appeared in such large-scale productions as World Trade Center, The Pacific and Rampart, and has had guest roles on top TV series like "CSI: Miami," "Boston Legal," "Without a Trace" and "How I Met Your Mother."

Gunn played "Kraglin" in Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) and its sequels in 2017 and this year, as well as providing the physical performance via motion capture for "Rocket Raccoon" in the films plus Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame and Thor: Love and Thunder. He also portrayed "Kirk Gleason" throughout the seven-year run of "Gilmore Girls" among his 60+ acting credits.

Combs starred in "Charmed," which ran for eight seasons and has adopted a huge, loyal following since, as "Piper Halliwell," one of three witch sisters fighting evil in modern day San Francisco. That followed her breakout role in 88 episodes of the hit series "Picket Fences" and later led to appearances in more than 30 series and movies and a long run as "Ella Montgomery" on "Pretty Little Liars."

Her “Charmed” co-star McGowan played long-lost sister "Paige Matthews" for the final five seasons of the series. The Italian-born actress first caught major attention for her role as "Tatum Riley" in the horror blockbuster Scream (1996) opposite Neve Campbell, Courteney Cox and David Arquette. She has appeared in more than 60 films and shows as an actress and is also an accomplished producer and director.

Cullen is a voice actor in 200+ films and TV shows, notably portraying "Optimus Prime" in numerous iterations of the "Transformers" franchise. Some of his other well-known works include roles in "Winnie The Pooh," "Chip 'n' Dale," "The Flintstone Kids" and dozens of others.

A native of Southern California, Lee is a photographer, producer, director, and actor. Having established a successful career as a professional skateboarder during skateboarding's pivotal late 80s and early 90s period, Lee would go on to pursue acting, which would lead to working in film, television, and voiceover, and with such directors as Kevin Smith, Lawrence Kasdan, Cameron Crowe and Rebecca Miller.

FAN EXPO New Orleans features the biggest and best in pop culture: movies, TV, music, artists, writers, exhibitors, cosplay, with three full days of themed programming to satisfy every fandom. More guest news will be released in the following weeks, including line-up reveals for comic creator guests, voice actors, and cosplayers.

New Orleans is the first event on the 2024 FAN EXPO HQ calendar; the full schedule is available at fanexpohq.com/home/events/.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Caught In A Trap

Summary: On the night of the transformation, Dean stumbles into a snare, ending his night’s frivolities injured and trapped. Y/N comes across the Alpha and offers to let him recover in her cabin nearby, but Dean doesn’t want help from some little Omega; he doesn’t need it.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: Dub Con, shifter Alpha, a little more werewolf-y than normal A/B/O, Dean’s an asshole, Omega heat, hate sex, rough sex, claws / scratching, oral (f rec), fingering, p in v, knotting, hint of praise kink, bit of dirty talk Word Count: 3,168 Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Scratching | @spnabobingo - Shifter | @spndeanbingo - A/B/O

A/N: Written for @synmorite’s monthly commission! God bless you for seeing this square on the A/B/O board and picking it out because I love this idea for it ❤

You were up all night, listening to the yowling. Sleep had been nearly impossible with all that screeching racket echoing through the woods.

The Alphas come out every full moon, breaking away from their packs and running free in their true forms; something only the Alphas still remember how to do. Omegas had been the first to forget what it was like to run on four legs, and eventually the Betas stopped turning, too. But the Alphas clung to it; their birthright, this mystical power that somehow made them better than everybody else.

It’s all a load of bullshit, in your opinion, but it’s apt – that Alphas still transform into these beasts that terrorise the population once a month. Not that they don��t terrorise you the rest of the time, too. That’s why you live alone, out here in the woods, where no one knows where to find you. Life is much simpler that way.

Towards the break of day, most of the howling has died down. It never got too close to your cabin, but it had still been audible enough that you stayed on your guard. You thought you may have heard a fight break out at some point; a loud growling whine had woken you up in the middle of the night, clearly a wolf in pain. Hopefully no one had been hurt too badly. You may not like Alphas as a rule, but you never like seeing anyone in pain, no matter what presentation they are.

Dragging yourself out of bed with a shiver, you burrow your toes into the shaggy fur rug protecting you from the cold of the wooden floor. The weather has just started to fall from the brisk ephemerality of autumn into the chill drear of winter. You’re looking forward to getting into a hot shower, and curling up with an even hotter cup of tea when you’re done, but first you need to brave the outdoors to bring more wood inside. You’d used your last log on the fire last night.

Bundled up against the cold, you strike out of the cabin, feet crunching the frosty leaves underfoot as you stomp towards the wood pile you keep around the back of the house. You pause when you hear something drifting towards you on the hurried breeze. It’s not a usual forest sound – it’s more of a groan. Sometimes trees made those sort of moaning sounds during a heavy storm, but that wasn’t it. This was higher and keener… and closer.

Looking around apprehensively, you drop your hand to the small knife you wear at your waist. You can’t see anything near you or the cabin, but then you hear it again. That’s definitely a person making that noise. The groans are succeeded by a series of grunts, giving you a better idea of which direction the noises are coming from. Following the trail that winds around the back of your cabin, you pick your way through the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible.

As you move through the thicket of trees, the groaning and rustling is getting louder, and it occurs to you that you’re nearing the circle of traps that you have surrounding your cabin. Fuck, something’s probably gotten caught. You draw your knife and creep around the large hemlock bush that’s blocking your view of where the closest trap is, expecting to see a raccoon or something when you round the corner.

It is absolutely not a raccoon caught in that trap.

Dean, as he grumpily informed you was his name, is now sitting in your favourite squashy armchair in the middle of your cabin. He’s clutching a warm washcloth to the deep teeth marks that your wolf trap gouged into his forearm. He’d been partially transformed still when you’d found him, a wolf’s leg jutting out from the shoulder of his very human body. It was a fucking weird sight to stumble on.

“Here, let me see how that’s healing up,” you offer, coming back to sit on the couch by his side and reaching for the bloodstained cloth. Dean growls at you, like he had when you’d first approached him outside, and you roll your eyes reflexively. Alphas are such fucking babies.

“Let me see the damn arm,” you grumble, snatching the limb and pulling it into your lap so you can get a better look at the wound. “It looks like it’s healing, okay,” you muse, noticing the cuts are definitely shallower than they had been at first. The prongs of the trap had gone entirely through his leg… arm… whatever the hell limb this was.

“Of course it’s healing, perks of the job, sweetheart.” Dean flashes you a cocky sneer, and you slap the fresh cloth down onto his forearm much more forcefully than necessary, making him hiss and recoil.

“Good, that’ll heal too then,” you smirk, satisfied with your comeuppance for now. The tea kettle whistles and you heave yourself off the couch to go turn the burner off. “What kind of tea do you want?” you call behind you, looking through your available options.

“I don’t drink tea,” Dean grunts aggressively.

“Well, too bad. You were half frozen when I found you out there, this’ll help warm you up”

“I don’t need some Omega bitch to take care a’me,” Dean growls. You spin on your heel and give him a stern look before pointedly dropping a tea bag into a mug and pouring the kettle.

“You don’t want me taking care of you?” You carry his tea back to the armchair and drop it on the side table with a loud thunk.

“No,” Dean snarls, baring his teeth, which are still pointier than usual after last night’s full moon. You refuse to back down, your anger driving you closer to him.

“No? So you don’t want some Omega bitch to take care of that boner you’ve been sporting since the first time I touched you?” Your eyes drop accusingly to the poorly concealed erection that is bulging in his lap. You’ve loaned him a pair of your loosest sweatpants, the ones you save for days you want to be extra comfy, but they’re stretched awkwardly over his crotch, obviously not being made to accommodate the male anatomy.

Dean scoffs at you, rolling his eyes.

“What, like you woulda offered,” he sneers, tone brimming with condescension.

“Well, I was gonna, but if you don’t need my help...” You throw your hands up in surrender and shrug, turning away to go back to the kettle and pour your own cup of tea. Of course, you absolutely hadn’t planned on offering, but Dean is royally pissing you off, and the tease had been too good to resist.

“Oh, so now you’re a cocktease, huh, sweetheart?” Dean follows close behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck.

“I didn’t do anything that warrants that kind of reaction,” you stare pointedly at his crotch. You would jump off a bridge before admitting it, but the sight is actually making your mouth water.

“Yes you fuckin’ did,” Dean snarls, lunging forward and bracketing his arms on either side of you, trapping you against the kitchen worktop with his chest pressing into your back.

“Get the fuck off me!” you grunt, trying to throw him off, but the vestiges of his strength from the transformation are still working their way through his body, and he’s far too strong for you to move. “I didn’t do anything,” you argue again, futilely.

“You’re the one walkin’ around here smelling this fuckin’ delicious,” Dean murmurs, the sudden quiet of his tone somehow more threatening than when he was growling at you. “How d’you expect an Alpha to react? When we smell a little ‘mega bitch just ripe for the taking. It’s instinct, baby.”

One of Dean’s hands leaves the counter, but his body is holding yours in place, so there’s still no chance of escape. His fingers worm their way between you both and grope at the crotch of your leggings. You can’t contain the moan that sneaks up your throat at the feeling of his hand against your sex.

“And it’s not just me who wants it, is it? Are those panties getting nice an’ slick for me, sweetheart? You are about to go into your heat, aren’t ya? Lucky I’m here then, to take care of you.”

You try to contain the moan that bleeds through your lips when Dean’s fingers finally come into contact with the little bundle of nerves between your legs, but you can’t quite manage it. He’s right, as much as you’re loath to admit it. You are about to go into heat, you’d been expecting it for days now, and the presence of an Alpha just off the back of his transformation is clearly pushing you towards that inevitability even more quickly.

“Get the hell off of me, asshole!” you growl, trying again to buck him off. “I don’t need some Alpha douchebag taking care of anything.”

“Hey now,” Dean tuts, grinding his hips into your ass to keep you still, “that’s no way to talk to an Alpha, baby girl. ‘Specially one who’s just trying to help.” You can feel his stupid fucking grin against the back of your neck when he ducks down to nip at the skin stretched across your spine.

Embarrassingly, the feel of his teeth against your neck, so close to your mating gland, sends a gush of arousal down your body. Dean laughs heartily, and you know he’s just felt the slick that’s leaked into your panties. He must be able to smell it, even if he hasn’t felt it against his fingers yet.

“You can struggle all you want, ‘mega, but you can’t fool me,” Dean whispers, his breath burning against your ear.

Suddenly, your centre of gravity has shifted and you’re hanging upside down, because Dean has picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. He stomps towards your bed on the opposite end of the cabin, ignoring your fists currently pounding into his back. He tosses you onto your back, the mattress making a disgruntled creaking noise as he climbs on with you.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, kicking out at him, but he catches your foot in his grasp easily. The easy strength he uses to manipulate you is disconcertingly hot, and you curse your Omega instincts for making you feel like that, for telling your body that it should be submitting to this man in front of you; this Alpha.

“I know just how to get bratty little Omegas like you to behave,” Dean smiles cockily, then slides his hand along your ankle into the bottom of your leggings and shreds the fabric along the seam. It rips all the way up to your crotch and then down the other leg as well. You catch sight of one of Dean’s claws extending from a finger, and he uses it to tear the remaining threads, so your leggings are hanging from your waist, openly exposing your soaking panties.

You’re frozen, watching as Dean places his clawed fingers one by one on your leg, then drags them, agonisingly slowly, up your thigh. An involuntary shiver rocks through your body at the sensation of him scratching so delicately against your flesh, all the while knowing he could draw blood if he pressed just a little harder, sank those claws just a little deeper. You feel another wave of slick flood your panties at the mere thought, and you once again curse how fucking kinky your Omega instincts have always made you. You shouldn’t want anything that’s happening right now, but deep inside, you know you really fucking do.

Dean snags one claw through the lace of your panties and tugs threateningly.

“What, no sassy comments anymore?” he grins triumphantly, eyes gleaming.

“Fuck you,” you grunt, gritting your teeth against the urge to moan as the backs of his fingers skate through the wet between your legs, one knuckle catching against your clit and making your hips jerk.

“That’s ‘fuck you, Alpha’ to you, ‘mega,” Dean growls, then in one swift motion he’s leaning down and ripping your panties off with his teeth.

“Fuck!” you whimper in shock when his teeth scrape lightly over the folds between your legs, quickly followed by his tongue delving between them to lap at your entrance. Your hands fly to his head, intent on pushing him away, except without meaning to you pull him closer instead. You feel him laugh against you, but he doesn’t let up in his mission to fuck his tongue as deep inside you as it can possibly reach.

He switches focus after a moment and licks his way up to your clit. Your hips buck against his hold when he starts to trace tiny circles around it with his tongue, teasing you more than you can take. You whimper, ashamed at how pathetic you sound, but maybe he takes pity on you, because a moment later he sucks you between his lips and does something with his tongue you hadn’t even realised was possible.

A finger – thankfully clawless now – snakes its way inside you and begins teasing at the nerves just inside your entrance. Dean chuckles deeply when you whine and clench around him, quickly adding another finger and spreading them to stretch your walls.

“So tight, ‘mega,” he groans, lips still gliding over your slick skin. “Don’t know how you’re gonna fit my knot in here.”

“Oh fuck,” you whimper at the thought, craving it, wondering just how big Dean really is, hoping desperately that he can fit, because you really do want him to fuck you now.

“You’re close, aren’t ya, sweetheart,” he smirks, speeding up the pace of his fingers and bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit. “I can feel how tight you’re squeezing me, your body’s just beggin’ to let go, ain’t it?”

“Please,” you whimper, burying your head against your pillow in shame, while at the same time thrusting yourself down onto Dean’s hand.

“I gotcha sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, holding your hips down with his free arm and fucking into you even faster. “Just gotta do one little thing f’me first, yeah?”

“Please,” you beg again, struggling in his grasp, desperate to reach your peak. You’d do anything at this point.

“Just gotta be the good little Omega bitch I know you are, an’ say ‘thank you, Alpha’,” Dean’s voice rumbles deep in his chest, almost feral.

You can’t believe him, the pompous asshole. You’re not planning on saying anything of the sort.

“Go to hell!” You try to growl at him, but it comes out closer to a whine.

Dean shakes his head at you, like he’s disappointed, and withdraws his hands from between your legs with a smirk.

“Still gotta teach you some manners, apparently.”

“Someone needs to teach you some fucking manners,” you grumble under your breath, but Dean’s dark chuckle lets you know he’s heard you.

“C’mon, ‘mega, I’m doing you a favour here,” Dean coos, reaching for the band of his sweatpants and pushing them down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. “You’re fuckin’ lucky I wound up here to get you through this heat.”

You stare at his cock hungrily, utterly astounded by how fucking perfect it looks; long, but even more importantly, thick. Your cunt actually flutters when you think about Dean fucking you with that. He finishes peeling himself out of the ill-fitting sweatpants and crawls over you, like a hunter stalking his prey. You’re caught beneath him, trapped by your desire to have him ravish you, and you’re terrified he can tell just how badly you need him to ruin you.

His claws are back out, and in the next instant the rest of your clothes are hanging in shreds off your body. You want to be angry about it, except all you can think about is Dean scratching those claws down your body, trailing your skin with red welts that will show anyone who looks at you that he’s claimed his territory.

As if he can read your mind, Dean traces his claws lightly over your chest, pausing to dig deeper against your collarbone, then scratching more harshly, leaving a trail leading from your breasts down your stomach, to back between your legs.

“Stop fighting me, ‘mega,” Dean bends down to whisper in your ear, nibbling at your throat while he’s at it. The scratch of his teeth so near your mating gland makes you dizzy. “Lemme take care’a you, let your Alpha in.” You whimper as he grabs his cock and runs it over your entrance, collecting the slick that’s begun leaking out of you and onto the bed. “All you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to break, you really don’t, but you know you will. You know there’s no denying how badly you want him – need him – inside you. And the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can have what your body so desperately craves.

The moment the word Alpha crosses your lips, Dean is pushing inside you. You cry out, unable to hold back, immediately trying to fuck yourself into his cock, and Dean just laughs down at you, clearly pleased with your desperate submission. You feel a sting of betrayal at the warm glow that fills you when Dean begins to whisper condescending praises in your ear.

“Good girl, good ‘mega, knew you had it in you. Knew you were just a sweet little cockslut deep down. Just lay back baby, lemme take care of you. Gonna keep you locked on my knot until your heat’s all better ‘mega, I promise.”

“Fuck, Alpha, please,” you beg, shame and desire mixing to heat your skin.

“That’s it, ‘mega, you keep fuckin’ begging f’me,” Dean growls, fucking into you violently. You feel his knot start to swell, pushing threateningly at your entrance. “If you’re really fuckin’ good, maybe I’ll decide to keep you. Let you use my big Alpha cock whenever you want. How’s that sound sweetheart?”

You mewl desperately, teetering on the edge of your climax. Dean must be able to tell, you’re squeezing him so tightly between your legs.

“Fuckin’ cum for me, ‘mega. Cum on my Alpha cock and say fuckin’ thank you for it,” Dean pounds himself into you, his knot popping inside, rubbing against that sweet spot inside your cunt, and you scream out your release, a babble of curses and thank yous and Alphas tumbling from your lips as you gush around him. He collapses on top of you, grunting through his own climax as his knot pulses against your walls.

You know you’ll be tied together for a while now, while he finishes cumming and his knot deflates, and as much as you hate to admit it, you really don’t mind being trapped here with him anymore.

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Muskrat fur cuffs and the North American fur trade

In this post, I am focusing my research on the fur trade up to the mid 18th century. On a superficial level, this is because the armlets in question are based on a 1732-35 painting. But, more importantly, any attempt to expand beyond this using this format would be far too limited to responsibly grapple with the history. In addition, the end of the French and Indian wars in 1763 resulted in changing fur trade dynamics which would not be easily integrated into the research I have been able to do. There are many facets I had to leave out like religion, trading posts, and more, simply because a comprehensive history of the fur trade, even before 1763, is a book topic, not an Instagram one. For this post, I chose to focus largely on the material aspect--tangible goods and how they were experienced by Indigenous communities as both suppliers of pelts and consumers of trade items. The latter slides will also look into human relationships and enduring consequences as much as space will allow.

“Indigenous” in this post is a catch-all descriptor that tries to encompass a vast variety of different nations who had varying contacts and concerns within the early fur trade. In the north, Hudson’s Bay Company traded primarily with Cree, Dene, Inuit, and Assiniboine groups (Chan 79). The Great Lakes region was dominated by Anishinaabe groups, including the Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi (Warren 124). In the Ohio River Valley, trade was largely divided among the Miami, Wyandot, and Shawnee (Sleeper-Smith, Indigenous Prosperity 95). Additional fur trading occurred along the southern British colonies as well, but I did not find scholarship that has covered it to the same extent. The history of the North American fur trade, at least in its earlier decades, challenges the paternalistic idea that Indigenous groups were helpless against the arrival of Europeans and their trade goods, as if European culture was so potent that mere proximity was enough to degrade centuries-old traditions. Rather, Indigenous peoples used their knowledge of the land, access to pelts, and kinship networks to enter into the trade on their own terms and use it to further their own material and cultural ends.

While the fur trade was dominated by beaver pelts, Native American trappers caught and traded a variety of pelts. Muskrat made up a fairly minor part of the overall trade, but still had moments of demand. In the Ohio River Valley, the muskrat fur trade grew as a result of beaver pelt oversupply in the late 17th century. Between 1696 and 1716, indigenous peoples in the valley developed a fur trade that focused on pelts like muskrat, otter, raccoon, and marten. These pelts had become more valuable as trade goods, and more prized in the European market, because of the drop in beaver prices (Indigenous Prosperity 192-194). Further north, the Hudson’s Bay Company acquired an estimated 6000-7000 pelts annually between 1710 and 1725, 15,200 pelts in 1739 and 24,600 pelts in 1750 (Obbard 1015). Notably, this rise towards the middle of the 18th century corresponds to both an overall boom in the fur trade in the 1730s, and a drop in beaver trade by 1750, both factors that would encourage the trapping of muskrat (Carlos 111-112). 

European traders were highly sensitive to the material preferences of their counterparts. Indigenous trappers and their families had very specific standards for trade goods. Cloth is the most significant example of this. European textile mills produced cloth specifically for Native consumers, with close attention to color, pattern, and weight (Levine). The importance of cloth also highlights the extent to which the European goods provided in the trade shifted fairly quickly from utilitarian goods to luxury items. Silver, for instance, was in such high demand even as early as the late 17th century that it actually endangered the currency supply in New France as French traders sought to melt down silver coins into tradeable items (Indigenous Prosperity 193). For Indigenous artisans, especially women, this influx of luxury European goods offered opportunities to enhance their own artistry. Native women used cloth and its attendant sewing implements, beads and trim, to create elaborate beadwork and patterns on clothing, creating exquisite wearable artwork with deeply meaningful expressions of their own cultures (Indigenous Prosperity 175). Indigenous relationships with European trade goods were highly transformative. Even old kettles were taken apart and transformed into jewelry and other items of personal adornment. Indigenous consumers readily adapted trade goods into their own cultures, rather than performing a simple 1:1 replacement of traditional goods and ways of life for European ones.

In 1852, William Whipple Warren wrote a history of the Ojibwe, his mother’s people, based on oral histories he collected. The accounts in this history accord with a general impression that the fur trade in the 17th and 18th centuries was actively managed by and productive for the indigenous participants, rather than reducing Native peoples to mere clients of European trading houses. The book includes several anecdotes that depict the fur trade as a way for the Ojibwe to further their own personal and national goals, especially in relation to other Indigenous groups. One story recounts an Ojibwe hunter who, after his family was massacred by enemy O-dug-am-ee (Fox/Meskwaki), trapped for pelts until he had enough to convince the French to help him get revenge (Warren 153). In instances like this, European traders were used as tools by indigenous operators rather than the other way around. The Ojibwe also used the fur trade for their own territorial ends. Through trade, they acquired weapons with which to fight against the Dakota/Santee Sioux, pushing them out of favorable grounds (Warren 160, 178). The Ojibwe thus gained yet more opportunities to trap valuable pelts for the fur trade (Warren 126-127). In this instance, as in many others, the fur trade with Europeans had markedly different effects on different Indigenous nations.

The histories also specifically highlight the difference between French and English traders, praising the French for their respect of Ojibwe customs and integration into Ojibwe communities, which later English and American settlers bypassed in favor of assimilation and domination (Warren 132). Successful integration into Native communities and kinship networks was crucial for the success of early European fur traders. For one thing, European traders were largely dependent on Indigenous communities to provide them with food (Sleeper-Smith, Women Kin & Catholicism 429). Indigenous women in particular attained importance for their role in agricultural production and through their ability to create profitable trade relationships for both sides through marriage (Women Kin & Catholicism 430). Warren’s history gives an example of the centrality of women in the fur trade when he mentions the Ojibwe wife of French trader Jean Baptiste Cadotte, who was notable for the influence she could sway over her extended family (Warren 213). The influence from these kinship networks enabled Cadotte to convince the Ojibwe of Lake Superior to stay out of Pontiac’s rebellion, keeping them from being destroyed like some other tribes that had gotten involved in European wars (Warren 211).

An overview of this trade, no matter how general, still has to acknowledge the enduring negative consequences that have been wrought by the presence and encroachment of white colonists into Indigenous spaces. The North American fur trade evolved into something much more exploitative with the European occupation of Indigenous peoples’ traditional territories and the proliferation of unfair treaties. For instance, the accounts of the early fur trade in Warren’s oral history of the Ojibwe were colored by the tellers’ awareness of the negative impact that contact with European settlers had ultimately caused by the 19th century. Guns and alcohol are singled out as the most significant trade goods, reflecting the compounding detrimental effect that these items had Native populations in later decades (Warren 119). In addition, even benign contact with European groups carried exposure to devastating diseases like smallpox. The disruptions caused to Indigenous communities by disease, warfare, and European settlement affected traditional supplies and made them more reliant on a fur trade that was increasingly stacked against indigenous traders.

A 1972 documentary called “The Other Side of the Ledger: An Indian View of the Hudson's Bay Company” describes how the Hudson Bay Company exploited Indigenous fur traders into the modern day. The company traded for furs on unequal terms, and Indigenous trappers were unable to try to trade elsewhere for more favorable terms because for many remote communities, the Hudson Bay Company stores were the only nearby sources of food. These supplies were sold at high mark-ups, forcing customers to buy on credit. This crediting system kept Indigenous communities in perpetual debt to the Hudson Bay Company, as their principal provider of food and buyer of pelts. The particular involvement of the Hudson Bay Company in operating these stores ended in 1987 (Gismondi), but even today food insecurity remains high among Native families living on reservations, owing to limited and expensive groceries and low incomes. The early years of the fur trade held promise as a zone of cultural and economic exchange in which Indigenous participants were often equal, at times dominant, partners in trade. Nevertheless, contact with European traders initiated a perpetual drive for settlement, territorial expansion, and the attendant marginalization of Native peoples in their own lands by European colonizers.

Works Cited:

Carlos, Ann M., and Frank D. Lewis. Commerce by a Frozen Sea: Native Americans and the European Fur Trade. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010. http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt3fhbsp.

DeFalco, Martin and Willie Dunn, dir. The Other Side of the Ledger: An Indian View of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 1972; National Film Board of Canada. https://www.nfb.ca/film/other_side_of_the_ledger/.

Gismondi, Melissa. “The untold story of the Hudson’s Bay Company.” Canadian Geographic.May 2, 2020. https://www.canadiangeographic.ca/article/untold-story-hudsons-bay-company.

Levine, Mary Ann. “The Fabric of Empire in a Native World: An Analysis of Trade Cloth Recovered from Eighteenth-Century Otstonwakin.” American Antiquity 85, no. 1 (2020): 51–71. doi:10.1017/aaq.2019.81.

Obbard, Martyn E. et. al, “Furbearer Harvests in North America.” 1987. In Wild Furbearer Management and Conservation in North America, edited by M. Novak, J.A. Baker, M.E. Obbard, B. Malloch, 1007-1034. Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources, 1999. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/275353911_Furbearer_Harvests_in_North_America_1600-1984 

Sleeper-Smith, Susan. Indigenous Prosperity and American Conquest: Indian Women of the Ohio River Valley, 1690-1792. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2018. Accessed August 11, 2021. http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5149/9781469640600_sleeper-smith.

Sleeper-Smith, Susan. "Women, Kin, and Catholicism: New Perspectives on the Fur Trade." Ethnohistory 47, no. 2 (Spring, 2000): 423-452.

Smith, David Chan. "The Hudson's Bay Company, Social Legitimacy, and the Political Economy of Eighteenth-Century Empire." The William and Mary Quarterly 75, no. 1 (2018): 71-108. doi:10.5309/willmaryquar.75.1.0071.

Warren, William Whipple. History of the Ojibways: Based upon Traditions and Oral Statements. Saint Paul, Minn.: Minnesota Historical Society, 1885. https://www.loc.gov/item/rc01001074/. 

Further Reading

Allard, Amélie. “Relationships and the Creation of Colonial Landscapes in the Eighteenth-Century Fur Trade.” American Indian Quarterly 44 (2020): 149–70. doi:10.5250/amerindiquar.44.2.0149.

Nassaney, Michael S. "Decolonizing Archaeological Theory at Fort St. Joseph, An Eighteenth-Century Multi-Ethnic Community in the Western Great Lakes Region." Midcontinental Journal of Archaeology 37, no. 1 (2012): 5-23. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24571259.

Snow, Deborah. "Impact of the French Fur Trade on the Lives of Native Women in the Great Lakes Region during the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth Centuries." Order No. EP77052, University of Michigan-Flint, 1999.