#BRO DRAWING THE HELMET WILL KILL ME

[spaciebabie]

hashtag royal guard fit

[klcthebookworm]

WIP Wednesday

Things are so good for Vash. He has a relationship with Meryl, he has strange younger children to look after, and maybe future children. So of course it's time for the ugly to show up.

Vash caught the ball bounced up off his knee before the ripple of powerful rot slammed against his mind. The memory of pink light disintegrating a building around him shook loose from his head and almost obscured the man walking across the square. A memorable fellow: white coat down to his feet nothing at all like Meryl’s new one, a skull tied to his left arm, spikes coming out of his right shoulder, and blue hair covering his face so only his right golden eye was visible. And no one in the busy town square was glancing at him as he crossed it to sit on the other side of the monument behind Vash’s back. “I found you, Vash the Stampede,” projected into his mind in an amused male’s voice.

“What? Who are you?” Vash shored up his mental defenses. That cut back the rot to an ignorable level. Was he another independent plant? The stranger didn’t feel like Meryl did even when Vash was ignorant of her true nature. A telepathic human maybe?

“Legato, Legato Bluesummers.”

Milly called for Vash’s attention and he threw her the ball with a silly smile on his face. She moved the game with the children away with Vash prompting her. Or was Bluesummers affecting the whole crowd?

Vash slipped on his sunshades. “What do you want from me?”

“Your life.” Legato chuckled. “Perhaps that was a bit too dramatic. Actually I’m here as a messenger. That’s right, I’ve come here to warn you. I’m afraid your life is going to end. Today.”

“What!”

“Do you think I’m lying to you?”

Chuck winced and kicked the ball Hannah before marching away from the game. He stopped next to Vash and glared at Bluesummers. “Who is he?”

Legato didn’t turn around. “Well, this is new. We knew about the insurance representatives, but you managed to keep a stray little spider without us discovering it until now, Vash?”

“I’m not a spider!” Chuck projected back.

Another memory jarred loose without Vash’s looking for it. Young Knives laughing maniacally as the Fleet made flaming entry into Gunsmoke’s atmosphere and morphing into an adult Knives still laughing the same way. Vash turned is head to see Bluesummers with more of his gaze.

“Bro, who is that?” Chuck looked up at Vash and he could feel the worry from the mouse boy. “Karbunkle and Limburger don’t laugh that crazy.”

“Bro? Brother?” Bluesummers’ interior voice turned from intrigued to disappointed. “Have you gone and replaced your actual family, Vash? My master will be so disappointed to hear that. It probably won’t surprise him though. After all, he found me when you rejected him.” Vash saw Bluesummers’ shoulder shrug in the corner of his eye. Bluesummers continued projecting, “Have I done everything today? I gave you your warning. I haven’t given you the gift yet, have I?”

“Don’t take gifts from strangers, Vash!” Chuck projected.

“And you should learn to stay quiet when adults are talking!”

The powerful rot slammed into Chuck, who dropped to his knees clutching his helmet. Vash whirled around, pressed his hand to the back of Chuck’s furry neck, weaved power into the boy’s natural mental shields, and glared balefully at Bluesummers. “I’m the one you’re here for. Leave him alone!”

Bluesummers laughed mental but no sound comes out of him. “Your reaction is better than I’d hoped. You’re fun. And to think, I could kill every man, woman, and child here in the blink of an eye if I wanted to. The power of death is intoxicating.”

The power bearing down on Chuck eased off and the mouse boy dropped his hands. Vash pulled his hand back, ready to draw.

Bluesummers stood up but doesn’t turn around. “Don’t be in so much of a hurry. You still have a little time left. Or perhaps you don’t. And don’t worry, the boy isn’t harmed.” Bluesummers looked over his shoulder at Vash. “So do you want to draw?”

Vash didn’t move as he seethed.

“A wise choice. Oh, I almost forgot. This is a little farewell gift. It contains a lesson from me. I’ll just leave it here.” Bluesummers waved at a brown sack on the bench that some shopkeepers put goods in if one didn’t walk out wearing or eating the goods. Something was in it, but Vash couldn’t tell what from his side of the monument.

A woman screamed behind Vash, not in the town square yet, but running toward it.

Meryl gripped Vash’s right arm. “What was that? It felt like the thunderstorm had come back. Chuck, are you all right?”

“My head hurts.” Chuck stood. “Who was that wrenchhead?”

Meryl turned her head to look around the square. Vash tore his gaze away from the sack to do the same. “He’s gone,” Meryl said.

“Help me!” the woman running screamed.

“What’s up with her?” someone in square asked.

“That’s Mrs. Belding, the shoemaker’s wife,” someone else answered.

“She looks upset,” a third man commented.

Mrs. Belding collapsed against the second man in the huddle. “It’s murder!” she screamed.

“Hey! Hey! It’s okay! Calm down.”

“Murder? What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“My husband! My husband still sitting there! But his head. His head! My husband!”

The other townspeople tried to calm Mrs. Belding down and make sense of what she was saying. Vash looked back at the sack on the bench, the right size and right lumpy shape to hold a human head.

[tsuki-sennin]

The biggest boy of all Jamato! Vs! The two big boy Riders!

...I uh... can't really come up with an intro today, I'm a little preoccupied.

Spoilers, I guess...

-The lying-ass sparrow! He's gone!

-Punkjack! I missed you!

-"Eh, well... your grandpa helped pay for all this, sooooo... we might not kill you."

-Did he miss Ace? :3

-Hot damn, Duncan's got strength.

-"Blardy blardy blar... Hahahahhaa... Nobody's smart but me~!" type energy.

-If you get that reference, I give you a kiss (platonically).

-"Archimedel~! Sweetie~! How are you today~?"

-Caught you at a bad time?

-Kamen Rider Goots.

-"Backstabbed again, little lady?"

-Fucker deserved it.

-Ohhhhhh right, Sara doesn't know.

-"So like... are you gonna kill me too?"

-Guess Boss Man Suel has a jorb for you.

-Grand End!

-Where we're all gonna fucking die.

-"So like, you wanna deal with Beroba for me? I have lunch with Samas at 2 PM."

-Oh thanks, Buffa.

-PUNKJACK JUMPSCARE

-He's helping us? :3

-I can get behind this team-up more.

-Oh, thanks Niram.

-I suppose we're piling up all the big final all-or-nothing gambits.

-Hey, the world's ending, I say why not?

-Neon... :(

-"The world doesn't need to worry about Kurama Neon."

-"I do!"

-Can't believe

-Hello, Keiwa. I sure Ponkicchi doesn't exist for too long.

-Yes! Friend~!

-And here comes Kousei!

-Bro shut the fuck up, you don't get to be mad about this.

-You enabled it. You profited off it.

-The simple things in life~!

-True happiness was very easy.

-Oh I see Buffa drew 'em all.

-Well he doesn't seem a very artsy type, but I am impressed with his detailing.

-They kinda remind me of Tbh jhlkhg

-Especially Keiwa and Neon.

-"You're missing someone :3"

-Oh okay, sure

-Show off!

-My new headcanon is that Ace struggles to draw bears so he just made Punkjack's helmet from memory.

-I don't really think of Buffa as an anti-hero at this point.

-With how aggressive, unsympathetic, cruel, and downright savage he is as of now, he's ironically far closer to a classical Greco-Roman hero.

-Idk Ace, I think perhaps you're being a little generous here. It's pretty damn cruel to rip someone's dream away, even if it meant saving them.

-You're a sweet gal, Sara-neesan.

-She stands.

-"We are going to win this."

-...wait a minute, I just thought of something.

-If Sara knows how to use the Spider Phone, then surely she must've popped open the score screen at some point.

-...Keiwa, you should've been found out the MOMENT she got the phone.

-Takahashi, what the fuck???

-"Hold it."

-Duncan Jumpscare.

-"There's Big Sister..."

-Will one of you guys fucking jump in?

-Finally, you go Keiwa!

-I'd better be seeing cute sibling teamups soon, Takahashi.

-:)

-"Whatever, this is our problem now."

-The Na-Go Nation accepts Hakubi as one of our leaders.

-Alrighty then Ace, show us what you got.

-Well then, Buffa. Show us what you're made of.

-Let's goooooo!

-This is fascinating camera work.

-Jetlagged Fox.

-Oh, he

-He swims.

-Yeah this is pretty sick

-Shoot him harder, Buffa.

-Oh

-There goes his armor.

-Oh! Okay, that was cool.

-You're a bastard Buffa, but I can't deny your sense of style.

-...Monster looks pretty silly on you though.

-"I'm dying... I'm cold... but my boys will grow big..."

-This hurts.

-The Jyamato are just another of the Admins' many victims. Born and bred to fight and die for their entertainment.

-Good night, Archimedel. Gardener.

-"This sucks."

-Oh dammit, that's Nadgey's Core.

-"What do you want now?"

-"DGP is cancelled."

-Ovetime~!

-OH????

-THAT'S NEW

-What that????

-The buckle's orange... Boost MarkIII?

-...he looks so naked like that, what the heck?

[blackkatmagic]

I'm sorry? But also not because I've spent the past week trying(and failing) to draw Guenhwyvar and the zabrak bros all asleep in a cuddle pile. And I absolutely blame you. I haven't drawn anything in 16 years!!! The idea is just so cute though.

(Disclaimer: I have no idea how timeliness work, but...) I am also imagining Mother Talzin hiring someone to get them back and I mean the shenanigans that could result from a certain mandalorian taking the job? *makes puppy dog eyes*

I know you probably meant Jango but given the timelines I went with Jaster and im totally not sorry.

There's someone in the forest.

Drizzt raises his head, sees Guenhwyvar do the same from the other side of the fire. Against her side, Savage stirs, clutching his brother tighter to him, but when Guenhwyvar wraps her tail around them, curls in tighter, he settles. She looks back at Drizzt, ears folding back, and Drizzt nods, silently sliding down from the rock he was perched on and drawing a scimitar.

“Stay with them, Guen,” he murmurs, though he likely doesn’t need to; Guenhwyvar likely wouldn’t leave a pair of children on their own unless directly ordered to, and even then she’d resist as long as possible.

Guenhwyvar rumbles her agreement, claws digging into the soft earth, and drops her head onto her paws, still perfectly alert. It makes Drizzt smile, and he leans down to stroke her head as he passes but doesn’t pause. This moon’s forest is thick and deep and dark, and the sun only rises on it rarely, which makes it perfect for a drow, and Drizzt's steps are perfectly silent as he slips away from the camp, following the source of the sound. Savage had said there were no predators on this moon, and Drizzt, still unfamiliar with the workings of the holonet and ships and all the other strange things in this universe, had taken his word for it, but—

Someone hunting them isn't out of the question. The matron Drizzt stole Savage and Feral from—with their permission and willing participation, but stole all the same—seemed far more like Malice Do’Urden than anyone Drizzt has encountered in centuries, and Drizzt would believe without hesitation that she would send pursuers after them.

At the very edge of the deep trees beyond the camp, he stops, looks back. Guenhwyvar looks like she’s asleep, though Drizzt knows she isn't, and the two shapes tucked against her side are dwarfed by her bulk. He lingers for a moment, watching Savage sleep, watching Feral turn his head and press closer to his brother, the dig of his small horns making Savage huff and shift before he sinks back down into sleep. It makes something in Drizzt's chest feel tight in a way it hasn’t in a very long time, since well before Catti-brie died.

Connection, he thinks, even in this disconnected place. But for all this whole dimension is strange and foreign and often alarming, no one here seems to know the drow. No one thinks Drizzt is going to kill them as soon as they see him. And maybe the victory of that should feel hollow, after so many years trying to find a place where he was welcomed in his own world, but—it’s truly just a relief.

Feral and Savage are his, and this world is his now. Drizzt won't let anyone take it from him.

Steady, careful, Drizzt picks his way over the rise, up through massive trees that blot out the sky and the planet there. There are voices ahead of him, he thinks, so low that even his ears have a hard time picking them out. Steps, and the shift of cloth, and the brush of metal, and Drizzt slides behind a tree, lets his vision slip to infrared, and immediately spots a pair of figures who are just separating. One circles around through the trees, while the other heads right towards Drizzt, and it’s clear that they’ve spotted the little fire, the campsite. Drizzt tightens his grip on his sword, blinking back to regular sight, and debates who to take first. The one circling around will run right into Guenhwyvar, and for all Drizzt doesn’t want to scare the children, it seems better to catch this man, who’s moving more quickly, with more purpose.

Silently, Drizzt waits, listening to his steps approach. Closes his eyes, marking each one, and just as the man passes the tree Drizzt is tucked behind, Drizzt leaps.

The man is almost a foot taller than him, but then, most everyone Drizzt fights is. He’s in armor, black and red with a design on the chestplate in gold, but it just means he’s heavier. When Drizzt hits him from above, fouls his feet, and uses his weight against him, he goes down hard. Hits a rock, rolls, his helmet bouncing free, and Drizzt doesn’t hesitate. He has both scimitars out and striking in a fraction of a second, and drives the blades into the ground on either side of the man’s head, crossed over his neck.

Instantly, the man stills, and Drizzt leans over him, knee planted in his chest, gripping the hilts and ready to sweep the blades across the vulnerable throat. “Who are you?” he demands, and the man’s eyes sweep over him, a little wide, before he carefully, deliberately brings his hands up, fingers spread. Drizzt tenses, but there's none of the green magic the matron used, no attempt at a spell. Just a surrender, wary and slow.

“I'm Jaster Mereel,” the man says. “Of Mandalore.”

It’s likely supposed to mean something; the way he says it has weight. Drizzt has dealt with too many people who thought themselves important, though, and he just narrows his eyes. “And who sent you after me?”

“Not you,” Jaster says, cool. “The children you kidnapped. A tribe on Dathomir—”

“I took them,” Drizzt says, willing to admit it freely. “Because they wanted to come with me. They told me Nightbrothers are—”

“Nightbrothers?” Jaster interrupts, and immediately the tension is back in his body, stark and almost startling. “Only the Nightsisters call their men Nightbrothers.”

“Yes,” Drizzt says, confused. “That is who I took them from. Matron—Mother Talzin.”

There's a long, long pause, and then Jaster scowls, deep and displeased. “The witch who hired us failed to mention she spoke for Talzin.”

[maxdark158]

Wooo! Writing shoes are back on and i’m actually really happy that i’m finally able to write again. This chapter is a bit shorter than normal but the next two are heavy hitters so it’s alright

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian typically liked patrol.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop under the cover of the night was always exhilarating. Parkour just wasn’t the same without a belt of weapons and a costume, it was always a good way to burn of excess energy and get his mind focused.

Sure, it was his job to protect Gotham so he couldn’t be joking around, but he had to admit he liked the physical activity. He took his job seriously but taking it seriously didn’t mean it had to be unenjoyable.

Patrols were a time when he didn’t feel constrained, didn’t have to play a part or meet expectations. Nothing could ruin the cool gotham city nights on the rooftops.

Well, almost nothing.

After all, Damian’s father had the insane habit of adopting shitty ass kids for his crime fighting ring. Which meant Damian had this awful sickness called siblings. And the only thing that could ruin his nice patrols were the chortling of the other costumed idiots.

The worst nights were when all his brothers went.

Every. Single. Brother.

And what made it worse on top of that?

When they had something they felt they could tease him about. And when they were all teasing him about the same thing at the same time.

He was going to snap and stab one of them. His father might be anti murder but he didn’t have to know…

Damian shook his head. Bad thoughts.

“Thinking of your Angel?” Drake seemed to have a death wish and Damian was all about granting fucking wishes right now.

“Why do you all insist on being here?” he grumbled to himself. Because really they didn’t have to be. No bat signal, probably a few minor purse snatching crimes that one or two could handle easily. Why were they all in costume? Take the night off, stop fucking bothering him.

Annoying Fuck #1 snorted next to him when he said that, clearly not planning to be reasonable. “What, don’t like us teasing you about your Angel, demon spawn?” Todd snorted.

Damian ignored him. “Batman, shouldn’t he not be allowed to patrol with us?” His father could at least tell Todd to go home. Then when his back was turned he wouldn’t witness what happened to Dra-

“C’mon, I haven’t killed anyone and I want to hang out with my little bro! It’s not every day that Robin gets his first crush!”

Annoying Fuck #2, Drake, nearly slipped and fell from laughter.

Damian’s face warmed under his mask. “I do not have a crush you-“

“Focus on the job,” As always, father was on his side. “You can make fun of Robin later when we aren’t patrolling,” the traitorous bastard added.

Damian didn’t want to be the fucking blood son anymore.

He glared at Batman, scoffing to himself. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my own route.”

“I’ll go with you little bird!”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Because of fucking course Grayson suggested that. And of fucking course Damian momentarily forgot that Grayson was back and patrolling too, leaving him unprepared for the suggestion. Grayson’s uncharacteristic quietness was the worst thing at times.

Fucking hell why’d they all have to be here tonight?

Proving himself to truly be a traitor, his father nodded to Grayson’s suggestion. So Damian, previously wanting to get away with his brothers and dream of murdering them alone, now had a tagalong stopping such a fun activity.

At this rate he’d have frown lines at 23.

Damian went off, not waiting for Grayson. He knew he’d easily keep pace though, so the halfhearted dream of being fully alone wouldn’t happen.

“Robin, wait here a second.” Oh fuck no. That’s Grayson’s I want to talk voice. Too bad for him because Damian did not want to talk. At all. Especially about anything Grayson might want to talk about. Because Grayson wanted to talk about French Angels and Riddlers and Spars and-

“Robin, are you listening?”

“No, Nightwing, I’m not.” Damian stared at him and raised a brow. “What is there to talk about?”

Grayson huffed, annoyed. Good. Fucker deserves it after what he and the others put him through these last few days. “I was asking if you actually had a crush or not. They’re teasing you but I’ve been,” at WE all day, Damian knew, “busy all day. I can’t tell if they’re making something out of nothing and I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

There was a time when Damian would have said he wasn’t a horse. When he was younger, he didn’t know idioms and expressions that well. He considered saying it now, to try and change the subject, but he also knew Grayson didn’t let things go easily. Which wasn’t very good.

Because Damian wasn’t sure how to answer.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it, even to himself. His weedkiller wouldn’t arrive for a few more fucking days, he wasn’t prepared for this.

Though maybe that in of itself showed the answer to Grayson’s question…

Fucking fuck fuck.

He shook himself from those thoughts. Grayson was waiting on an answer and he didn’t have time to get lost in thought about his Ang- Marinette. Marinette.

Damian settled for glaring at Grayson. “My private life is not any business of yours.”

Grayson snorted. “Suure little bird. She’s one of the French students, right?”

“Don’t say that right now,” he snapped. Not while they were in costume, not while they could be listened to. “Focus on the job, Nightwing.”

Grayson put his hands up in surrender. “Race you to Wayne Enterprises?”

Damian didn’t wait for an answer, jumping to the next roof and making his way as fast as he could. He was determined to beat his adopted brother’s sorry ass, not that he cared about winning. It wasn’t that he was competitive, he simply didn’t want to continue this discussion. That was all. That’s fucking it.

Grayson laughed behind him, and the race began.

-----

They were taking a break near the Batcave. No activity yet, but they stayed suited up incase that changed. The night was still young, after all.

Batman instructed them to meet there through the comms. Damian and Grayson, further from the cave, made it there last. Grayson luckily hadn’t brought up and other conversation during patrol, and Damian hoped that would hold ou-

The other two idiots were waiting like the fucking lunatics they are.

Fucking fuck fuck.

“Did the demon spawn tell you about his precious Angel?” Todd clearly decided that he would die in seven days by saying that, big dumb fucking grin on his face and hair messy from removing his dumbass helmet.

“What was her name again? Mary?” Drake knew her name and was just being a little bitch. Damian decided not to give him the fucking bait, going over to a place to sit-

“Marie something, French and I think with brown eyes?”

“They’re blue,” Damian bit out. Fuck, their stupidity had infected him, he spoke before thinking. Was there a cure? He doubted it as they were all still stupid and have been for years. Fucking fuck the last thing he needs is to be on their level of idiocy.

“Right, right,” Jason’s wolfish smug grin was showing exactly how much of a fucking bitch he planned to be. Damian wanted to kick his face in.

“Little bird was pretty tight lipped on patrol,” Grayson said lightly as if he didn’t just stab him in the back.

“It’d be rude to kiss and tell,” Damian was going to strangle Drake with his own two hands.

“I haven’t kissed her!” He snapped again. His face was very warm, did he get sunburned somehow?? “We’re friends you imbeciles!”

“Friends that hold hands,” Drake pointed out.

“And tour Gotham together, alone.” Todd shortened his life span even more.

“And invite each other over to their house, where they never invited anyone before, to eat lunch.”

“Look how red his face is!”

“Little bird probably even planned to buy her ice cream! That’s why they were there when the Riddler showed up!”

“I’ll bed demon spawn-“

Damian stormed out of the room. Blood was roaring in his ears and he needed to- he just. He fucking needed fucking out of here. Away from those fuckers. Or he’d actually follow through with his thinly veiled threats and he’d rather not get blood on his costume.

He hated siblings with a passion. If his father ever considered adopting again Damian would fill all of his shoes with centipedes and rip the third seam out of every pair of pants he owned.

I don’t have a crush on her. I don’t. She’s wonderful and amazing, an angel, but I don’t like Ang- Marinette like that. She’s a friend I made and that is all.

Damian grabbed some throwing knives for target practice. Not on his brothers this time. He wanted to clear his head without those fucks nearby.

He threw one. The aim was a bit off, and he frowned. His aim was impeccable, why was he off right now? Why is having a crush on Marinette a bad thing?

No. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think those fucking thoughts right now. He threw another, harder. It went deep into the target, still off by more than he was happy with. He growled lowly.

Ange- Marinette is pure and good and wonderful. I was raised by assassins and I can’t completely shake their ideals.

Another knife. Damian’s grip on them tightened. Why was he missing?

I’m a vigilante and Damian Wayne. I have blood on my hands and money to my name and she wants to make her fashion empire herself.

Damian got more knives. His frustration was growing with each thought. They kept coming back as he tried to dismiss them, kept distracting him from the target.

She’s a talented designer. She’s incredibly smart, knows how to fight. Beautiful, dark hair and freckles and blue eyes.

Another knife sailed through the air.

I’m not anything of note without my last name or costume. She’s amazing without needing either.

Damian walked over and began taking the knives off the targets. Maybe they were fucking with his aim. He should get rid of them. Focus on removing them. Stop thinking about her.

But no matter how many fucking times he tried to redirect his thoughts, they came back.

She doesn’t have to tolerate me.

She’s wonderful and innocent.

She doesn’t deserve to be dragged down.

I don’t want to hurt her.

Damian’s hands were on his face, pushing at his eyes and trying to stop the thoughts. His Ange- Marinette was wonderful he knew that, but he didn’t think the other things. Not constantly anyway, he helped people as Robin. He was his father’s blood son. He wasn’t unhappy with himself.

But that doesn’t mean I’m good enough for Marinette.

He grabbed a knife from the table he set them on and threw it blindly, as if throwing the thought itself out and away.

It hit the center perfectly.

Damian took a deep breath. Everything was fucking overwhelming right now, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

But it seemed he’d have to.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Okay, okay. He… He might have a crush on Marinette.

Admitting it, oddly, seemed to lift a weight off his shoulders. Damian took another deep breath.

He has a crush on Marinette. But he values her a friend very much. He isn’t going to do anything about his crush, because she deserves someone as amazing and angelic as her, and Damian isn’t that.

But that’s okay. Because he already loves being her friend. And his weedkiller isn’t too far away.

Damian calmed down. He threw some more knives. They were all on target.

She’ll always be my friend and Angel, if I have any say in it. I’ll make sure whoever she choses is worthy of her.

Damian had just thrown his third when his father spoke through their comms. “Poison Ivy sighting at Gotham Hotel.”

The six words turned Damian’s recently found peaceful mood onto its head. Ice water poured into his and filled his limbs with dread. His chest was tight, as if someone was grabbing at his lungs and they were closing. The weeds of worry were strangling him.

That’s my Angel’s hotel.

He had dropped her off there with Alfred just earlier that day. She was staying there with her class. They were supposed to be safe and protected, she was supposed to be safe and protected.

Damian’s knives hit the ground but his feet hit it faster as he ran through the cave to the exit. Ivy best not lay a finger on her or she would lose her entire arm.

His Angel wouldn’t get hurt, not if he could help it.

[sir-sunny]

(Green) okay! Here are some unlikely friendship headcanons!

Kokichi and Hiyoko:

-Blame DRS for this one

-Lowkey HATE each other but also can't help but be drawn to each other, probably because they're both gremlin children

-Will usually team up to make fun of people like Mikan or Miu even if they're angry with each other because the prank is worth it

-ABSOLUTELY fight over who gets the last bag of fruit gummies (Kokichi usually wins because he's a manipulative bastard)

-Kokichi genuinely hates that Hiyoko likes to kill small animals and because he's the way he is, instead of directly telling her to stop, he'll try to guilt her into feeling bad

-Hiyoko is one of the few people that Kokichi will dress differently around, even if he doesn't go all out. He'll wear something small like,,,multicoloured shoelaces and Hiyoko will be like "!!! I thought you were just an emo asylum patient this is actually kinda cool"

Gonta and Jataro:

-Already talked about this before but!! Big brother Gonta and Little brother Jataro!!

-Gonta is one of the few adults(technically) that Jataro trusts, mainly because he likes bugs and bugs are creepy and cool

-Sharing bug facts!! Gonta tells Jataro that the spots on a butterfly's wings are used to ward off predators and Jarato is like 8O!!!

-Jataro draws pictures of him and Gonta hanging out together. Gonta doesn't know why but he cries every time he sees them

-Do not bully Jataro otherwise Gonta will Not be happy

-Gonta doesn't mind that Jataro wears his helmet most of the time. At least then there's a smaller chance of him getting stung by a bee!

-"Do you hate me?"

"What?! Gonta could never hate you! Gonta doesn't hate anyone!"

"Oh...that's not good. Now I need to find a way to make you hate me."

"W-wait, Gonta can hate you if you want that! Gonta want to make Jataro happiest he can be!"

Makoto and Nagito:

-Honestly they give me brother vibes,,,hope bros,,,

-Makoto might not be as obsessed with hope as Nagito is but he can sort of understand where he's coming from. It's nice to believe in something like that when the world hasn't been that nice to you

-Nagito's a little jealous of Makoto's luck usually playing in his favour but he's also happy that Makoto doesn't end up getting hurt most of the time

-Being the Genuine Good Boi he is, Makoto will talk to Nagito and try to understand him on a level that most people don't get, because God damn it he can SEE how much this boy is struggling and he wants to help : (

-,,,Makoto asking Nagito where he buys his clothes because they're kinda nice-

-Good at impersonating each other : )

Gundham and Himiko:

-A popular friendship in the fandom but very much deserving. Chaotic Mage Pals

-Himiko thinks she's training Gundham in how to magic, Gundham is actually the one giving Himiko solid advice on how to take care of animals while casting sick spells

-Gundham's energy gets to be a bit much for Himiko sometimes so Gundham subconsciously lowers his voice when spending time with her

-The four devas love Himiko! They especially like hiding under her hat when they want a nap

-Gundham carrying Himiko to somewhere comfortable when she falls asleep and not acknowleging anyone when they point out how cute it is because he's evil damn it this is just so he can carry out his evil plans without someone getting in the way

Chihiro and Kaito:

-Kaito is the perfect mix of self confidence and positive masculine energy that Chihiro has been looking for so they're drawn to him like a magnet

-Training! They train a lot and Chihiro is a bit slow to start but Kaito is there to make sure they don't give up

-Kaito's main knowledge of computers are the control panels in a space ship so Chihiro talks to him about other types of computers and Kaito barely understands but he's trying real hard

-Chihiro wearing Kaito's space jacket,,,it's like twice as big on them but it's warm and comfy so it's nice

-I like to think that Chihiro can speak English too so imagine them both having full conversations in English and none of the other characters understanding

-Chihiro mentioning one day that their favourite constellation is the Ursa Major because it's like a bear that's protecting the stars. Kaito winning a bear plush at a festival and deciding to give it to Chihiro because he remembered

Hifumi and Tsumugi:

-Either fanboy/girling about their favourite animes together or having passive aggressive debates on which girl is best girl and what adaptation was better than the manga etc etc

-Tsumugi makes a cosplay for one of Hifumi's characters one day because she just felt like it and Hifumi almost goes into cardiac arrest

-Hifumi being jealous of Tsumugi's height and grumbling about it to himself whenever he sees her hgirughtr

(I'm gonna stop here because this is already a lot but if you want more I'll be happy to supply!)

kokichi and hiyoko are a NIGHTMARE duo akskjdjdjf god could you imagine these two talking shit behind ur back,,,

gonta and jataro canon siblings!!! they are literally adorable i LOVE their dynamic

nagito will get into an extremely passionate rant abt hope and whatnot and makoto will very politely nod and try his best to keep up akaskhdhd

gundham and himiko are such a good pair omg like gundham genuinely respects himiko's talent and refers to her as a mage, he'll even aid her in tricks involving animals (he'll make sure that theyre all very safe of course)

oooooo! kaito and chihiro would ve such good friendsssss kaito would be so supportive of them and he'd be so unwaveringly positive and kind,,,, and these two bonding over constellation stories,,,,,aaaaaa,,,,,

hifumi and tsumugi would get along SO well alsjdhd these two cosplay together, binge watch anime together, go to cons together, collaborate on art pieces MAN,,

[kindaangelic]

The Ghost of Wayne Manor

For the first time in years, Jason Todd walked into Wayne Manor, his erstwhile home.

Well. Snuck in.

Launching himself through a window that he had jimmied open, Jason landed softly on his toes, like a cat. Through the eyeholes of his helmet, he took in the sight of what was once his bedroom.l, his sanctum sanctorum-

Wait.

This wasn't his room.

Jason looked around at his surroundings, taking note of the rumpled bedspread (disgraceful), the boxers on the bed (Jason was a briefs man), and the plushie elephant on the pillow.

Oh no. He was in Dick's bedroom.

Through his panic, Jason heard the shower in the attached bathroom turn off, and the sound of Dick's singing grow clearer. Suddenly, he was out, only a tiny fluffy towel around his bum to hide his modesty.

Jason might have thrown up a little bit at the sight of mostly-naked bro, but Dick had spotted him and was screaming.

Jason legged it out of the room, even as Dick screamed “Intruder!”

Jason stumbled out only as far as the hallway before the lights all went out. Damn, someone had activated a security protocol. He was locked in.

Jason sprinted down the hallway, losing himself in the maze that was Wayne Manor. Just when he thought that he was safe, Jason saw a pale, otherworldly figure fluttering in the distance. It was slim and short, perhaps a Victorian era child, judging from the billowing white chemise it was wearing.

Please don't be an ancient Wayne ghost, Jason thought, as the figure fixed him with its pale, owlish eyes. Okay, definitely ghost, but maybe it was nice-

“Heck!” Jason cried, as the ghost raised its hands, and summoned whip like tendrils from the walls, which lashed out at Jason. Dodging expertly, Jason ran backwards, losing himself again.

Just when he thought that he had escaped the spectre, Jason startled to see it again, this time with blood dripping sluggishly down it's overlong white shirt. Once again, the spectre raised its hand, and this time, a gas filled the hallway, rendering Jason's limbs useless and leaden by his side.

As Jason felt his consciousness dimming, he saw the ghost drawing closer and closer, while strange tendrils wrapped around Jason from behind, holding him down-

*-*-*-*-*

When Jason awoke, it was in the medway in the Batcave, and to the extremely unpleasant sight of a still mostly naked Dick sighing next to him, the only difference being that he now had a towel wrapped around his wet hair.

“Oh, little wing,” Dick sighed, “why do you always have to do things the hard way? Why didn't you use use the door?”

Jason scuttled back from Dick, whose wet, glistening body was inching closer for a hug. He was not about to become part of the fanfics that Roy so enjoyed.

“Dick you boob, put on some clothes,” he growled.

“Yes, Dick, put on some clothes,” Bruce's voice came.

Jason looked up at Bruce, who.was standing on his other side, looking a strange mix of bemused and upset. “Jason-”

“Stop,” Jason growled, skittering the other way, and consequently closer to Dick. Ah well, at least he was the lesser evil. “Don't you dare try to play nice with- ARGH!” Jason stopped mid-sentence, pointing at the pale apparition that had appeared at the end of his sickbed, and clung to Dick's moist shoulders.

Dick looked over and frowned. “Timmy, why are you wearing Bruce's shirt?”

Jason stared at the spectre, which shrugged. “Laundry day.”

“What is that thing!” Jason demanded, pointing.

“Don't be rude, Jason,” Bruce chastised. “This is Tim. Tim, who is for some reason wearing my dress shirt and has dropped pizza sauce onto it.”

“Can't stop, won't stop,” Tim said, brandishing a floppy slice of pizza from.behind his back and biting into it.

“Wait, this is Tim?” Jason asked. “This is my replacement?”

“Don't say that, Jason,” Bruce said, sounding pained. “Nothing would ever replace you in my heart. You're my son, just like Dick, and now Tim. I love you, lad, no matter what.”

Jason chose to ignore his feelings in favour of staring at Tim, who was chewing placidly. He was meant to kill this wisp of a twink-

“Ow,” Jason grumbled, rubbing his leg. He looked at the wound that the weird tendrils from the wall had given him.

“Ah, you stumbled upon Timmy's state of the art home security system,” Tim said, noting Jason's wounds. “You like?”

“No I don't like,” Jason barked at an unfazed Tim, “You assaulted me, you Victorian ghost child!”

“Timmy's not a ghost, Jay” Dick said. “Are you sure that the knockout gas isn't messing with you?”

“That, or it was the hentai monster that grabbed me as I fell,” Jason grumbled.

“That was me, Jay,” Dick said, sounding hurt.

“Oh,” Jason said, and registed the touch of tendrils in his hair. “Hentai tentacles!” Jason shrieked, and batted the tentacles away, spinning around.

“Those were my fingers, Jason,” Bruce rumbled, and Jason thought that perhaps he ought to stop reading Roy's fanfics before bedtime.

“Tee hee,” Tim giggled sinisterly.

Bruce glared at his eldest and youngest. “Dick, let go of Jason and wear some clothes, please. Tim, take off my clothes and wear something else.”

When the boys had slunk off, Bruce looked dubiously at Jason. “Jason-”

“Hurl.”

Bruce frowned, but continued. “-I don't know why you broke in, but you should know that one one not normally invade their own home. You can just walk in, lad. It'll save you from seeing Dick in the nude again.”

Jason shuddered. Would he ever be whole again? Perhaps never. At least Roy would have more fodder for his ao3 account.

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled in response. Bruce stared at Jason for a second before bending down and pressing a kiss to his hair. Super duper gross, Jason thought, cringing.

“You should sleep,” Bruce suggested, throwing the blanket over Jason, “Tim's new knockout gas formulation is fast acting, but also long lasting. There'll be some dizziness.”

Jason felt sleep come over him again, and distantly noted Brice sitting down beside him, and Dick and Tim slipping back in, the eels.

As he slipped into dreamland, Jason could not help but feel at peace with his place in the world, in his family.

[gamebunny-advance]

Grab Bag Doodles

Whoo, art output is definitely gonna slow down now that I’m gonna be busy again, but hopefully moving around more will give me more ideas for stuff.

Notes under the cut as always~

1) Mike Hatsune from Yo! Noid 2. I’ve decided to come to terms with the fact that I just like cartoon old dudes, so I tried drawing one of my other favorite cartoon old dudes. I dunno, there’s just something really funny about “old man Miku” as a concept and still having the candy colored anime hair.

2) Superfan Kliff (Chibi Edition): What if Kliff was a different artist’s number one fan? Based on my theory that Kliff’s design is supposed to subtly imitate Tatiana, I wanted to try doing something similar for the other artists. I think I’m a lot less subtle about it, but I generally like the ideas in there. It’s just a matter of filling them out. They’re all different kinds of obsessive/creepy.

3) DJSS Superfan. I have drafts for the first 3 artists, but 1010 and Eve still need some work. It’s my headcanon that Kliff actually dyes his hair, so his hair color is different for each of them.

Captions (Clockwise, Starting from Top Left):

Circular frames to imitate DJ’s round helmet

Silver windbreaker

A ring for each of DJ’s white fingers

Tall white boots to reference DJ’s concept art

“Wireless” Earbuds

4) Unwilling Harem Protagonist. I actually drew this as a standalone, but I think doing that is just asking for trouble, so I’m throwing it in here.

Captions:

Kliff: WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?? I HATE LITERALLY EVERY PERSON IN THIS ROOM!

Neon J.: BABY! HONEY! ANGEL!

DJSS: It’s not like I like you, or anything! Simpleton!

Joey: Bro, I’m just here to get my mixtape back, but fuck you too I guess.

5-6) Vape. I dunno why, but I wanted to draw Roboto vaping. I dunno. He’s very stressed out.

Captions:

Red 1010: Is that even doing anything for you?

White 1010: It’s gumming up my internals, so I’d say it’s doing a great job of killing me slowly.

7) Farmer’s Tan. Inspired by a Sakurai Famitsu collumn where he talks about his own ROB and how just its head and base have yellowed, making it look like it has a “farmer’s tan”. [The translated article by Source Gaming.]

8) R.O.B. drawing. Practicing using refs again.

9) Me after realizing that Miitopia still doesn’t have any adequate curly hair options. We’ve come so far, but not far enough damn it. We should not still be having this problem, and even if it comes in a later patch, I’m still gonna be pissed. And why is changing the skintone limited to just the face?? I’m not a goddamn carrot Nintendo. I know Nintendo technically didn’t make this port, but these were problems in the original too.

[donut-entendre]

for the character ask thing: church

w. which one. I am going to assume α-Church

Why I like them:

I can't give an interesting answer for why I like him he's just. Church is The character ever do you NEED reasons to like him. Are you fucking kidding me. He is hilariously unobservant about himself and a total fucking nerd if you need literally any statements. It's so funny that people actually think he hates the reds and blues. Like riddle me this fool would YOU sacrifice yourself for some guys you weren't even AROUND at the time if you didn't care about them? Huh? He is constantly fighting off the empathy demons with a stick to maintain his uncaring guise but it doesn't fucking work because he keeps pulling shit like 'make potentially competent medic get to new idiot at all costs' and 'worries very hard about sick teammate' and we can't FORGET about 'would hold their hands if they were dying in a visceral and gross way despite voicing he didn't want to go near the sick one just moments ago and was worried that said visceral death might happen in the first place' Are you fucking kidding me. Why do I like Church. He's so fucking ridiculous and tragic. Love that dude he is so Adjective

Why I don’t: Not applicable. If I had to pick anything it would be how he treats his friends but I'd still have to acknowledge the nuance in that psychologically he COULDN'T accept that he cared about people because of the PFL bullshit.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I cannot choose. You cannot make me because I am incapable of this.

Favorite season/movie: See above.

Favorite line: 'any of his pissed off screaming lines' for 500. Also when O'Malley went into his head and he was just that post that's like 'if a demon possessed me I'd just be like whatever man your turn I'm out'

Favorite outfit: Halo 3 armor FTW buuuuut also he dresses like a slutty goth cowboy. Prove me wrong. You can't. I'm the only person here who knows how people dress in the south I'm the authority on this matter /j

OTP: Church x Happiness is the real ship. Uhhhh if I had to pick a ship to become canon though It'd be chucker or chuckboose

Brotp: ... Chex tbh. Literally imagine them being ex's AND friends. I know canon is already kinda like that but Imagine. Church and Grif are also bros they make fun of shitty sci-fi movies that Simmons would scream at together

Head Canon: The blues draw silly faces on all his helmet visors and he will find every excuse to not get rid of them. Also I am a fat αlpha Church truther. And Church was shorter than Tucker by an inch or two at first but is exactly ONE inch taller than him as Robot #2. EXACTLY one. and he's all smug about it too

Unpopular opinion: I can't BELIEVE this is unpopular but he's not actually angry most of the time, just irritated. There's a difference. Church is ANGRY when Caboose dies in the time loops, he's IRRITATED when he's in a stupid argument.

A wish: PSA's with Church? PSA's with Church pretty please? I don't care if he's dead in the main show the PSA verse is implied to be like. They're actors of themselves. PSA's with Church I want to see him. Give him soup and fresh bread

An oh-god-please-don't-ever-happen: ... But do NOT bring him back, worse if it's just to kill him again. I'm a slut for Church lives au's but he shouldn't come back in canon either. They got to say bye, let it stay bye.

5 words to best describe them: In denial, Irritable, needs therapy, softhearted, selfless

My nickname for them: Horrible little cuddlebug. Dickhead McDumbass. LL Church. Shouty McLoud. Baby blue bitch. I'm fucking with you only 2 of those are nicknames I use lol

[scribbles97]

Cahelium and Stone

@gumnut-logic​ wrote this wonderful bit of fic for us but seems to have forgotten how to not leave a fic on a cliff hanger :P 

So of course I could not simply ignore the implications of said fic, so I went ahead and added to it. 

Thank you Nutty for letting me play with your ideas! 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It wasn’t like Virgil to flee when a family member was in hospital. The middle brother having both the most patience and the most medical knowledge of them all would always be the first to take vigil at a bedside. It was impossible to count how many days his brother has sat by a bedside, either waiting or entertaining another.

He was never first to leave. It was rare for him to even consider leaving before the patient was stabilised unless they had a job to do. 

So to be ordered back to Thunderbird Two just minutes after landing in Auckland and flown  home in tense, deadly silence, was nothing like normal. 

To say it freaked Gordon out was an understatement. 

Especially considering just who was in that hospital bed. 

The fact that his older brother hadn’t even protested when Grandma insisted on repeating the medscan on his head spoke volumes. 

Gordon had been shooed off with that look only Grandma had perfected, sent away to shower and change. Grandma would set Virgil straight, she always did. 

Except, the next time Gordon found his brother it was on the floor of the hangar, arms and legs limp like a ragdoll as his eyes stared blankly at a familiar green panel. 

He doesn’t have to look up to Two to know just which panel it was. 

The panel from the wing that had collided with Thunderbird Shadow. 

***

Gordon was by far the least quiet of his brothers, and also the least subtle. 

Despite the pounding rush of blood in his ears and the screaming guilt in his head, he had still heard his younger brother coming. He knew exactly what conversation was to follow, could have probably planned it out in his head if he had been so inclined. 

Except, after the rush of so many emotions just moments ago, numbness had taken over. Physically and mentally exhausted from a day of rescues and disaster, his entire body had gone into protective mode and shut itself down. 

There wasn’t even the energy to tear his eyes away from that dent. 

“She’s fine V.” 

Still he couldn’t draw his eyes away. 

Gordon sighed as he sat down next to him, kicking the panel out of sight with a clank and a shower of paint flecks. 

“Couple of bruises, a bum leg, and a mild concussion, nothing that any of us hasn’t had before.”

Except he had caused it, that hadn’t happened before. 

“Come on bro, this isn’t your fault. You’re the last person Kayo’s gonna blame for this.” 

He was the first person she should blame. Everyone had questioned him after he’d caught his face on that bit of metal that had been sticking out where it shouldn’t have been. A couple of steristrips and a quick med scan had been enough to convince them that he was fine, fit to continue the rescue. It was just a cut after all. 

Maybe he’d missed something. 

“Should’da let you fly home.”

Gordon scoffed, shaking his head  with a grin, “What, so I could ding up both your girls and then suffer a slow, painful, death by both yours and Kayo’s hands? I’m good thanks.” 

He knew it was meant as a joke. 

“V, be grateful it was you flying. Nobody else would have recovered Two quick enough to grab Shadow out of the sky like that.”

It hadn’t been quick enough though, she’d still hit the side of the cliff, crumpled between the weight of Two and the solid rock face. All he’d saved her from was a watery demise. 

“Eos and John both said that the gust came out of nowhere, it was a freak accident, a random result of mother nature and the start of the hurricane.”

“She could have died.” Was all he could force past his lips. 

“She didn’t though.” Gordon persisted, ever the optimist, “Because you pulled her out of that dive into the water.”

A hand squeezed hard on his aching shoulder, feeling finally coming back with a vengeance as he realised just how much of himself was starting to ache. 

“Everyone else saw the same as me bro, you saving your fiancee’s ass. Let me tell you, if you don’t get that into your head, I’m gonna tell her what you’re thinking and let her kick your ass for me.”

His brother’s elbow was lumpy against Virgil’s ribs as he grinned some more and added, “And I will take great pleasure in watching.” 

The little question was still in the back of his mind though, still needling against his greatest fear of the moment. 

“I could have killed her.” 

“Virgil Tracy, you couldn’t kill me if you damn tried. You even hesitate to try and punch me when we’re training.”

Aching muscles damned, he immediately sat straighter, eyes widening at the voice from Gordon’s wrist. 

“Told ya I would.” Gordon grinned, “Your funeral, Virg.”

“Kay, I-- you-- wha--”

Her hologram appeared above his younger brother’s wrist. The image may have been small but the anger she radiated was enough to fill him with fear. 

“Where the hell are you?” 

He swallowed, feeling as small as the image in front of him. 

Visibly she seemed fine, a minor cut on her cheek, a swelling bruise blending with her hairline. She hadn’t had her helmet on at the time, the rush to clear the area before the hurricane hit more of a necessity. There had been nothing to protect her if her ship had hit the water below. 

“The hangar at home.” Gordon filled in for him as the silence stretched on. 

Her glare hardened, as cold as ice. 

“I’m sorry.” He forced out, pursing his lips as he watched her, “Kay I--”

“That had better be an apology for not being here.”

He couldn’t lie to her, it wasn’t in his nature. In that moment though there were several things he was sorry for, and Kay probably knew exactly what he meant. 

Looking across to Gordon, Virgil swallowed, “Gords, will you--” 

His younger brother was already standing, a hand held out to help him up, “Alan’s already prepped Tracy Two. Don’t worry Kayo, we’ll make sure he’s delivered direct to your door at no extra charge.” 

That earned them both a slight smile before she looked back to him, “Virgil? I’m okay, thanks to you.”

His chest tightened, a lump swelling in his throat blocking off any words that he might have tired to respond with. Instead he simply nodded, mute, trying to ignore the cut on her cheek. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She prompted softly. 

Straightening, he glanced to Gordon before clearing his throat. There was nowhere else he would rather be, nowhere else he should have been. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He confirmed. 

Her smile was softer, the anger fizzled out as she nodded back to him. 

“I love you, Virgil tracy.” 

He snorted softly, scratching the back of his head as his next breath came easier. Both knew there was no need for him to respond, that the only reason that he wasn’t already there was out of how much love he held for her. 

Still, he said it anyway. 

“I love you too Kay.”

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 27: Joey Punches Valon to Death and Seto Kaiba buys a Car.

My favorite character is back!

THE STORYBOARDER.

Like clockwork, the best storyboarder of all of Yugioh saw in the episode notes “This is the one where we shall Destroy Joey Wheeler” and he was like “Yes! this is extremely my thing!” and he’s back at it again, destroying Joey Wheeler with such finesse.

Like it’s so hard to explain in caps because you can’t see stuff move, but this animator is so good at the Yugioh vibe--he makes these character designs WORK for him (or her? No idea the identity of the mysterious storyboarder (or team of storyboarders--maybe this was one little group they freelance out to that worked really well together? I dunno) ) they really capture what Yugioh IS in a really unique way and still remain fairly economical in the animation sense. They do not hold back on any pose, and go completely ham into this ridiculous concept of a card game where you put on a special suit and punch eachother in the face.

Mind you, it’s still a card game and I skipped all that, but man...this is such a good storyboarder and I know that next episode they’ll be gone but for now I’m just gonna bask in it.

First off, Rebecca manages to figure out Seto’s 6-letter password in order to access billions of people’s personal data off of a satellite (we don’t get to find out what the password was) and although the storyboarder is great--they did make one fatal mistake.

The bane of every Californian who leaves California. LA is like a completely different country to San Fransisco but everyone only knows of two Californian cities and assumes we’re right next door to each other.

And it’s like...no, man. I don’t have Disneyland. Do I sound like a cheerful person that lives next to Disneyland? Do I say “bruh” and smile with the force of 1000 suns as we surf the coast on the backs of Lisa Frank dolphins? No dude, I have a strong Bay Area accent that makes me sound like a dry sarcastic asshole and I wear sweatshirts to the freakin beach because it’s very cold and filled with great white sharks.

(Sorry I just had to delete like 10 k words where I compared the entire cast to US cities by saying cryptic stuff like Joey Wheeler : Seto Kaiba is like LA : San Fransisco and like it was the biggest random tangent that only makes sense to me. Quarantine brain, y’all, I got SERIOUS quarantine brain. Anyone else? Anyone else just find themselves wasting like 2 hours thinking of which cities match the personalities of different characters on a show that came out so long ago? Man I need distractions right now.)

But back to what’s happening on the show, Yami is coming to terms with Joey’s struggle about as well as Yami does.

Which is mostly Yami saying “I’m pretty sure I killed Joey in that card game with Bakura in S1 and Tea had to bring him back from the graveyard so like wtv.”

(read more under the cut)

This was like 2003??? I think I keep forgetting when this season came out but we had printers at this point. We had google maps and a printer.

I don’t think I’ve touched a map like that since the 5th grade, where we had this competition to make a hypothetical road trip across America. It was Awful, and if you won the competition to get from SF to New York with the shortest distance, you would win something like pizza and a cool engraved name plate. We did not win pizza, because I could not even unfold this asshole map.

And now we have Google so like thanks, Mrs. Lambert, it was cool, but I’ll never use that information again. I hope. It was such a vivid frustrating memory that these maps still fill me with anxiety to this day, hearkening back to my 5th grade self just desperately trying to use string to measure how many miles the freeways across the midwest contain. (spoiler: a lot)

How OLD is this kid? Rebecca’s like secretly a 68 year old. She’s secretly Mrs. Lambert.

At this point we had a swell in the music as each friend of Joey joined in to announce their willingness to risk danger and save him.

Were they...not going to join him the whole time? It just seemed like a weird thing to bring up sooo after the fact.

Yami then turned to Duke and was like “but not you. You stay here” and he was like “Oh, thank gods.”

Rebecca stayed behind because the animators don’t want to draw her. Honestly, she’s incredibly helpful and they were mad stupid to leave the only smart one in the car. But youknow...this team loves being mad stupid. It makes the show more entertaining.

As they left we had a weird aside where Arthur Hawkins reflected “Rebecca is having just a REAL hard time trusting Yami” and it’s like--Arthur Hawkins! You’ve been dumping on Yami for like an entire season, that’s why. Like don’t pretend you’re all on team Pharaoh now. Why ever stop dunking?

But youknow, character development, Rebecca is going to learn the trust the ghost that possessed her crush/best friend that she’s had for 2+ years on a kid who’s been living in Japan this whole time who literally forgot who she was 2 weeks ago. You trust that ghost, Rebecca.

Or not. I mean you really don’t have to. You don’t owe Yami anything, dude. You don’t need to blindly trust idiot men, Rebecca. You just do you. Trust that instinct of “is this guy not trustworthy?” because yep. Chances are if you’re having that thought, that he’s totally not.

Storyboarder!

Storyboarder what ARE you???

STORYBOARDER!

after this followed a scene that I’ve seen gif-ed just so, so often that I assumed it was in a Yugioh Spin-off. I don’t know why I thought it wasn’t in this OG series, but I didn’t expect it to be here, in the Dartz season. But, it does make sense that this scene was under the best Storyboarder‘s direction because *chef’s kisses * it’s perfect. Every frame is a joy. The amount of sinister expressions on Mokuba, the level of sass coming off of Kaiba. It’s such a freakin shame that this man’s best work so far only lasts like a few seconds.

PS my bro looked it up and this car salesman has a wikipedia page.

He also looked up if anyone has shipped this car salesman and it’s our lucky day because this ship does not exist with any human ever in the world. Thank you, humanity. But, they DID make a wikipedia page so maybe we’re just putting off the inevitable?

I’m not even gonna cap it because I KNOW this is a gif you can easily download from everywhere but mm--this is a SOLID piece of animation. This animator is just flexing so hard, man. Yugioh did not deserve this much care and attention to detail.

Shippers rejoice, Seto Kaiba did briefly consider helping out Joey (before he absolutely drove away in the opposite direction)

(They’re clearly in the financial district already, PS. They are driving 5 ft to Dartz’ house.)

At some point Joey nabbed Valon’s card and so now he also gets to wear a bunch of stupid armor outfits.

This one is weird! It’s very Kamen rider-ish...but it’s a color scheme that feels very valentines day. It looks hard to wear. Good thing it’s animated.

I may need to capture this walk sequence though...if I still have the energy...the picture does not display his very energetic arms-in-the-air walk cycle I haven’t seen since that one Season zero episode. I dunno if it’s a reference to that, but I can’t think of any other reason why Tristan is walking like that.

This is when Mai finally shows up.

Valon lost his helmet during this fight, which lead to this:

What a good note to end on.

Anyways, I have no idea what my update schedule will look like or be, so if you’re new here and you want to start reading these from the beginning, I have a link for that:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[sadchappuccino]

Love Don’t Hate It - 3

Pairing: Din Djarrin x reader

Warnings: None?

Summary: Farmers can hide some crucial information

A/n: Some parts won’t be consistent with the storyline

<- previous next ->

You knew that your days were over on Sorgan, your three masters told you to train the kid and stay the with Mandalorion and you followed their instructions.

Dressed in your jedi robes you got a few weird looks, but you shrugged it off. It felt strangely good to wear the clothes in public, it gave you a surge of confidence as your lightsaber was placed on your hip.

“So what’s that?” Cara said mentioning the fabric. You laughed at her, “it’s part of my religion, it took awhile to make, but it seems quite fitting.”

“You look very good y/n/n.”

“Thank you,” you nodded your head, “I can say the same about you.” Cara lets out an airy laugh “always a flirt.”

You smile back at her, “I hope we arrive soon, I still want to meditate before the sun sets.”

You felt all eyes on you again, “meditate?” the scepticism radiated from that one word uttered by the Mandalorion. “Yes meditate, it gives me a clear mind which helps me to make the right decisions,” you shrugged, “part of the religion.”

The group just took your word for it, but Mando came to your side. “You’re a part of a creed,” he states. You nodded your head at him, “you are too, so why do you sound surprised.”

“I didn’t expect a bartender to be strongly religious, by the blasters on your holster it doesn’t seem safe too.”

You smirked, “good observation Mando, it’s not safe no. It never was, but it’s safer since the fall of the empire, but not enough to share everything with you.”

“I can respect that,” the modulated voice said. “Good, we’d have a bit of a problem if you didn’t,” you joked half hearted. A silence dropped over the both of you after that, you just walked without saying anything.

Not much later you arrived at the small village, where you were greeted by a brown haired woman. “I’m Omera,” she introduced herself, “welcome.”

“I’m y/n,” you extended your hand for her to shake, she took it and smiled at you. “It’s nice to meet you y/n, I’m glad you want to help us.”

“It’s no problem, I'm happy to help.”

“I’ll show you to the cabin you can stay at, I’m sorry but we only have 2 left.” she smiled at you. “Me and y/n can stay together,” Cara said and clasped her arm on your shoulder.

Together you walked to the small wooden house. Inside there are two beds and a small closet. You placed what little stuff you had in the drawers, it consisted mostly out of a few clothes, the holocron and a few blasters.

“Didn’t know you can shoot,” Cara piped up from behind you. “Some people consider it rude to look at other people’s belongings,” you smirked. “Come on you’re killing me y/n.”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a chuckle, “yes I know how to shoot, it’s always good to have self defense.”

“Damn you’re not just a bartender, huh?”

“Is anyone here ‘just anyone’” you replied smugly. “You got me there again.”

“Let’s get ready to scout the area,” you suggested, “so we know what to expect.” Cara smiled at you again, “good idea, it might give us an idea of how many raiders there are. Who knew that you knew how a battle works.”

“Believe me I know more than you might think,” you winked at her. You could hear the faint sound of a chuckle as you walked out.

Your feet carried you to Mando’s cabin and you knocked on his door. The door opened and you smiled at him, “Cara and I thought it’d be good to search this place, do you want to come?”

“Okay,” he nodded his head and left his lodge. Together you made your way back to Cara and to the woods. The force was guiding you to a place you didn’t know and the others following you blind for some reason.

“Come look here,” you pointed to the branches and the ground. “about 15 or 20 came through here on foot,” Mando noticed, “and something big sheared of those branches,” he pointed to the air.

Without another word you took a few more steps, in front of you there was a big footprint in the ground. “AT-ST,” Cara said. “Imperial walker, what is it doing here?” Mando asked.

“I don’t know,” Cara shrugs. “I don’t like this,” you noted, you crouched down and let your hand travel through it, “the raiders must’ve stolen it after the fall, a lot of imperial tech was unprotected since there was so many.”

“It’s more than I signed up for,” Cara noted, “we should get back.”

The group walked back to the farm again. “Y/n can I ask you something?” The Mandalorion asked you. “Depends on what the question is,” you teased. “Why are you helping them?”

You laughed, “can’t I do something just because it’s right?” You couldn’t see his reaction, but below his helmet the Mandalorion cracked a smile. “Do you even know how to fight?”

“Oh I might not look like it, but I could take you down before you could even comprehend what is happening.”

“I don’t think so,” Mando said. “Keep saying that and I might believe you some day.”

When you finally arrived at the farm, everyone crowded around you. “You can’t live here anymore,” Mando announced. You placed your face in your hand, ‘how could he be so blunt’ you thought.

“Nice bedside manner,” Cara shoved his side. “What you think you can do any better?” Mando bited back. “Can’t do much worse.”

“I know this is not the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.” There were murmurs and shouts through the crowd. “This is a big planet, I mean I’ve seen much smaller,” Cara announced.

“Everyone please understand that it’s nearly impossible to take on an AT-ST and around 20 raiders,” you spoke loudly.

“An impossible there isn’t,” Yoda said from beside you. “That’s why I said nearly,” you replied with a hushed tone, getting a weird look from Cara, but a smile from the Jedi’s.

“There are only 3 of us,” Cara said. “There is at least 20.”

“I mean fighters,” Cara sighed. You tapped her shoulder, “what if we teach them how, you me and mando can probably take care of the walker while the others fight the raiders.”

“Y/n, be realistic, you need to have some superpower to do that,” Mando said joining in the conversation. “If you guys won’t help I’ll do it myself,” you declared. “Fine,” Cara grunted and Mando groaned too. “Perfect,” you turned around, “we will help you.”

———

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Mando fic: @700teacups @stupidly-lazy @theladywholivesonthemoon @jelly-snow-stark @leilei-draws @resistancesquadronblackleader @aeryntheofficial @buckyboobear @peggers-n-beggers @sirianfromsixties @loilko @thetrappednerd @ispilledmyink

[tagsecretsanta]

From Gumnut

to @scattergraph

I don’t own this, full credit to the author above

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Prologue: ‘Twas the week before Christmas

Author: Gumnut

8 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 1437 

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic and it is a big one ::headdesk:: I hope you enjoy it. I know I have thoroughly enjoyed researching a gorgeous corner of this planet. 

My prompts were:

TAG Christmas pudding contest, points awarded for taste, originality and flammability.

“I don’t care if it’s Christmas…you ARE NOT bringing THAT back to the Island!”

Driving home for Christmas.

I’ll let you work out which I managed to include in this :D

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

And as always, thank you all for creating such a fantastic fandom. Thundernerds rock! I hope you all have a wonderful festive season. Thank you all so much for everything.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Looking back, it really could have happened to any of them. Hell, now it had happened once, it was even more likely it could happen to any of the rest of them, but of course it had to be Virgil and, of course, it had to happen a week before Christmas.

Fortunately, not only Gordon and Alan, but also John was aboard Thunderbird Two when her pilot folded in half with a groan. The great green behemoth responded to his touch and for a second there, the whole ship tipped sideways.

Alan lost his hard-earned sandwich, and Gordon, who had been half asleep in the co-pilot’s chair, despite the coffee he had consumed not five minutes ago, received an adrenalin spike that was well used in the next half an hour or so.

It had been a hard week. Australia was on fire. Every year the drought dried continent suffered and every year International Rescue did all it could to help. Brains had even designed some specialised equipment, deployed through Tracy Industries to help dampen the eucalypt fuel load, but the change of climate over the last hundred odd years had done its damage and the ecosystem suffered for it.

It was painful to watch.

And tiring to fight.

John had taken to coming down not only for Christmas, but for the fires. He had developed a communications network, tied into TB5, to help coordinate the fire services of the country and pin point the hot spots. At the end of the last outbreak, Gordon had been gobsmacked to find his usually reclusive brother sprawled in a chair beside the Australian Fire Defense Network chief, beer in hand, swapping stories.

It had helped that the chief was the middle of five himself and a communications specialist pushed into management. There was much commiseration.

But none of the past really foretold this little hiccup.

Later when Gordon referred to said incident as a ‘hiccup’, Virgil’s eyebrows had frowned so much, they’d physically climbed off his head and slapped Gordon around his.

Or it could have been Virgil’s hand. Gordon was too busy ducking to really identity the body parts his brother was using.

So, with three brothers aboard, Virgil had plenty of back up.

Gordon was fully awake and stabilising Two before he had even had a chance to draw in a breath. They were halfway across the Tasman Sea, finally on the way home for a well-deserved break.

“Virgil?” John was out of his seat and moving towards the pilot.

“Uh, I’m okay.” The man straightened, still in his silver firefighting suit, minus the helmet. A quick look in his brother’s direction and Gordon could see it was all a lie. Even through the soot on Virgil’s face, his brother’s complexion was pale, almost green. “Just a stitch.”

“Doesn’t look like one from here, bro.” Gordon frowned as John gently nudged Virgil back in his seat. The pilot closed his eyes and lay back, his shoulders dropping just a little. John reached over to the console and flicked a couple of switches. Virgil’s vitals sprang up in all their holographic glory.

Even Gordon could see something was seriously wrong. “You have a fever. What the hell, Virg?”

His brother stared at his stats and frowned. “Just thought I was hot.”

No surprise considering the conditions they were working in.

John sighed. “Your suit has active refrigeration, Virgil, you know that. You should be the coolest of all of us.”

If it had been a different situation, Gordon would have then started a ‘discussion’ on who exactly was the coolest or the hottest of the brothers. As it was, another groan from his engineer brother killed all conversation other than medical concern.

“What is it?” John disengaged Virgil’s seat from the dash, pulling it back and giving him access to his older brother.

“My side.” Virgil’s eyes were squeezed shut.

His lower right side.

Five minutes later and Gordon was beelining Two to the nearest hospital, which turned out to be Auckland near the northern tip of New Zealand.

Less than an hour later, Virgil had his very angry appendix removed.

Of all things.

For the past three days, it had been a mixture of firefly pod and fire exo-suit. His brother had been tossing about massive hoses, shifting huge amounts of timber, excavating firebreaks and water bombing from Two.

Apparently, all while suffering from appendicitis.

When Scott arrived on scene, he was a walking facepalm.

When Virgil woke up, it was all kind words for the first hour or so while he recovered from the anaesthetic, but after that, the tongue lashing Scott delivered was enough to strip the paint off the walls of Virgil’s hospital room.

Grandma ended up dragging the man from the room.

Everyone was quiet after that.

No one liked it when Scott got scared.

Least of all Scott.

But even Gordon had to agree that his eldest brother had a point. Appendicitis wasn’t something that didn’t come with symptoms. Virgil admitted that he had noted some pain, but he had been busy. There had been more important things.

Scott’s response to that was only suitable for mature audiences.

Gordon couldn’t help but agree after having to watch his brother writhe in pain on one of his own hover stretchers while they had been on approach to Auckland.

But it had happened when it had happened and everyone was safe, Virgil included. There were much worse scenarios available considering their occupations and the entire family was grateful it had turned out best it could.

Scott was still livid, though, likely because the man was exhausted. They were all exhausted.

Grandma eyed all of them in turn, cornering each of them in their hotel rooms. It didn’t take her more than half a day to conclude that International Rescue needed a well-earned break. Virgil’s illness made a great excuse and her meeting with Scott was short, sharp and to the point.

The Commander of International Rescue contacted the GDF not long after, advising their aunt that their organisation would not be available for the next week. Eos was tasked with redirecting emergency calls after Grandma grabbed John by the scruff of his neck and with an equally sharp word in his ear, grounded the spaceman beside his brothers.

Virgil received a few glares, but the tired man just rolled over awkwardly and went back to sleep. Apparently, he agreed with Grandma.

Always did, the big Grandma softie.

Except perhaps with her cooking, but that led Virgil to being the biggest victim in that department because despite his incapacity to lie, he would do anything for the woman.

Virgil was released from the hospital a day after his surgery and they helped him back to their hotel rooms and set him up with the holoprojector and an appropriate stash of snacks and engineering journals. Kayo even bought him a sketchbook and an array of art materials.

For two days, the brothers hung out with him or darted out to the shops for convenience’s sake. Copious amounts of takeout were consumed, a treat they were often denied on the Island. But ultimately five usually very active men got very bored very quickly.

They couldn’t go home, because Virgil wasn’t allowed to fly. His operation excluded air travel for at least seven days, which meant, to add insult to injury, they would be stuck on the mainland for Christmas Day.

Their first Christmas off in who knew how many years, and they couldn’t even share it at home.

John distracted himself by linking in with Eos and helping out with emergency calls...until Grandma discovered him and rounded on both him and Eos with the ire Scott had managed to inherit.

Both father and daughter behaved after that, Eos a little stunned at the power of the eldest Tracy.

Alan dove into his computer games and hermitized. Gordon could only swim so much, so resorted to pranking Alan, which ended up in the brawl of the century and half the penthouse draped in toilet paper.

Scott turned to Tracy Industries and began phone calls that lasted hours. Virgil sent Gordon to chase him down.

Scott quite frankly ignored him, which led to Virgil hauling himself off the couch and doing the chasing himself.

That led to a screaming match that ended with both men pale when Virgil twisted angrily and groaned as he pulled at his stitches.

The atmosphere plummeted after that and the whole penthouse floor deteriorated into a sullen gloom.

It was shaping up to be an ass of a Christmas.

Until Gordon had an idea.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Hell and Back (spicyhoney)

Notes: Okay, so there was a writing prompt that you can find here.The prompt was:

‘When you got married, you told your spouse that you would go to Hell and back for them. As you stand before the gates of Hell, covered in the blood of countless demons, you intend to keep your word.’

Well, this isn't quite that, it’s more ‘inspired by’. So here is where I went with the prompt.

WARNINGS: This is a darker story. There is non-explicit mentions of torture, violence, injuries, hurt/comfort, minor character death (none mentioned by name), LV, dust.  I mean, it is supposed to be a rescue from 'hell'.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

There were one thousand, seven hundred and thirteen bricks that made up Edge’s walls. He knew because he counted them daily. Sometimes he’d start in the corner by the ceiling, sometimes by the floor, and sometimes even in the middle and he’d only know he counted a row twice when he made it to the last one.

Counting them had originally been a distraction from the pain and he idly wondered when that had changed. When pain had become the distraction from boredom and even that changed, eventually. Was no longer enough.

Eight-hundred and seventy-five. Eight-hundred and seventy-six.

The chains clinked as Edge raised his hand, looking disinterestedly at the rusty trails of marrow trailing down his arm. The cuffs binding his wrists were tight enough to cut into the bone and he could smell the festering infection, the dull pulse of heat.

He would probably be taken to be healed again soon; Asgore would be displeased to be deprived of his chance to punish before he was finished. Edge expected that would be some time yet; he might be bored of this all, but Asgore’s temper was still fresh. Every day he spewed foul saliva with his shouting, his hands filthy with marrow as he rained down vicious blows.

Yes, it would be some time and the boredom might well kill him before Asgore finally got around to it.

Edge let his hand fall back to the ground, the cracked bones of his fingers giving a fresh jolt of pain. It faded too quickly, and he tried to clench his hand, to draw it out. Uselessly. He could barely feel it.

Nine-hundred and six. Nine-hundred and seven.

Pain would be his again later, anyway, something he could look forward to, he supposed, grimly amused. Asgore could make him feel pain, he could break him, would, eventually; Edge was certain of it. His bones and his soul.

But his fury would never abate because Asgore could never make Edge feel the one thing he wanted most. He couldn’t make Edge regret not allowing Asgore to kill the Human child.

There was no point to his mockery of interrogations. The Human was gone, through the barrier. All Asgore could do was inflict pain, and that he did with relish, even if every blow only ignited more rage. Eventually, he’d lose control and kill Edge, on purpose or accident, it no longer mattered.

One-thousand, two-hundred and thirty. One-thousand, two-hundred and thirty-one.

Edge had given his life for a single Human child and could not be made to regret it. His regrets lay elsewhere; that his brother would have to carry on alone, that Undyne had been forced to take him to Asgore, unspeaking and cold, her eye dark with the knowledge of his betrayal. That he couldn’t say goodbye to those few who would miss him. To the one who would miss him.

The only grace he’d been granted was the knowledge that Red had escaped; that information had been given to him by Undyne herself from the ashes of their friendship. The first few days his fear was not of the King’s brutal hands, but that Red would foolishly sacrifice his life in an impossible escape attempt. Each day that possibility dwindled further, and it was enough. His death would come, and the thought filled him with a sort of mad exhilaration because when it did, Asgore would truly have lost.

Until then, his days were routine; a meager meal in the morning and one at night, bowls of thin broth and vegetables heavy with rot, only enough to keep him alive. Guards coming for him, at first walking and then later dragging him to the throne room for his meaningless time with Asgore. A return to his cell for snatches of rest, then it began again.

One-thousand, five-hundred and seventy-nine. One-thousand, five-hundred and eighty.

The guards were forbidden to speak to him. Their faces were masked by their helmets, eyeless and soulless drones obeying orders. None spoke to him but Asgore and here in this cell there was only the rattle of his chains and his own breathing.

So when he first heard the strange, familiar rasp, Edge thought it was a desperate hallucination sent by his faltering mind.

It almost sounded like a lighter, but that wasn’t possible; guards weren’t allowed to smoke on duty and none would risk Asgore’s wrath, certainly not now with his unending fury over the loss of the Human.

But the whiff of cigarette smoke was no illusion. With some difficulty, Edge pushed himself upright, distantly curious to see what fool would risk turning Asgore’s anger from his prisoner to themselves.

He saw sneakers first and his immediate thought was that they were gray. Until they moved, the laces trailing and shedding dust with each step. The smell of cigarette smoke grew stronger, a pair of pale eye lights cutting through the gloom.

Edge hadn’t made a sound past screams in longer than he cared to remember. He tried now, a single word, a name, and the cracked, broken noise that emerged was a senseless garble.

A reply came anyway, on a breath of smoke, “yeah, it’s me. hey, edgelord.”

In front of the bars, Rus crouched. All of his clothes were the same dusty grey as his shoes. It was caked into his joints, falling like gruesome snow from his fingers as he took another drag off his cigarette. The powdery grey on his skull lent him the ghastly appearance of something beyond a Monster, some otherworldly, terrible creature that laughed as it consumed the souls of those who crossed them.

Then a droplet of sweat slipped down his face, revealing a pale streak of bone beneath and the illusion was broken.

Edge didn’t even have enough magic for a Check, couldn’t speak. He only looked at Rus mutely, at the ashy, beloved face he’d never expected to see again.

“didn’t i tell you once i’d go to hell to find you?” Rus looked around at the damp, crumbling walls of the prison, unimpressed. “not much hellfire here, but i did find a few demons, so close enough.” His grin was a shadow of the one Edge remembered. With one dusty finger, so much dust, Rus held up a ring of keys. “c’mon. i’m kinda wanting to go home now. your bro is at my place. he’s okay. he would’ve come but, well.” Unfamiliar orange clouded those pale eye lights and his grin sharpened, a knife-blade slash of teeth. It was a hint, a sly little clue, pointing towards LV and possibly dubious sanity. “i persuaded him to let me give it a shot.”

Edge tried to talk as Rus unlocked the door, careless of the loud creak as it swung open. Dusty footsteps inside and Rus crouched, cigarette clenched in his teeth as he reached for the chains. The small key turned easily in the lock and Edge couldn’t stop a ragged cry as the first cuff fell away, exposing the damaged bone beneath.

“shhh, it’s okay,” Rus crooned, already working on the second. “i’m gonna take care of everything, it’ll be okay.”

The moment the second chain clattered to the ground, Edge moved. His knees wouldn’t hold him, he knew; he hadn’t stood in far longer than he’d last spoken. But he could crawl, the flashes of pain ignored instead of treasured. At least enough to get close to Rus, to get his arms around him, heedless of the choking cloud of dust that rose in his embrace. In that moment even the grit grinding against his bones was sweet.

His hands hung uselessly behind Rus’s head, both from the days of being bound and the broken fingers. He grasped at Rus instead with his forearms, holding him in and if there were fresh LV in his soul, Edge did not know, nor did he care.

All he could hear was the love in Rus’s whispers; sweet murmurs that he was here, that they were going home.

Edge raised his head from Rus’s shoulder, only enough to look up on the wall at a single brick in the furthest corner. One thousand, seven hundred and thirteen bricks. Last one counted for all.

-finis-

[thejadedjewel]

Game Grumps Live - Asbury Park, NJ - 8/24/19

Game Grumps Live:

Left to Jersey 9:30-ish

Got to Jersey by 2PM.

Had lunch at Wendys – terrible bathroom, great food.  Checked in at Inn afterwards, but did a check of the Stone Pony Summer Stage to see how it looked.  Chilled at the room until a little before 5PM.

Was dropped off and got in line.  At the time, it had almost completely circled around the whole area (building and outdoor stage).  Doors opened a little before 6 because the line soon went all the way around TWICE. Talked with the guys and ladies in line and made friends with them.  There were folks as Danny Sexbang, Arina, and Daniella.  Got in around 615-ish.  Got water and waited over an hour in line for the merch table.

A ‘burgie’ chant started up at one point.  Lots of awesome music played – Rush, Queen, etc.

There was a chopper circling around and many of us joked that Dan and Arin would make an entrance from it.  Cheers always happened when someone came on-stage, one point tossing water into the audience.

Got shirt and poster and left my drawings at the table.  Then hit the bathroom.  By this time it was 740-ish and the screen suddenly pulled up the Wii-U main menu.  A voice came on and started to hype the crowd that the show will be starting a few minutes later.  By this time, the sun was setting and nearly gone.

Show started around 8 with Vernon coming on-stage to hype the crowd.  He notes that this was the biggest Game Grumps Live ever – 4 thousand fans.  To prep everyone, a fan – Chris – is brought up from the audience to play Super Mario Bros world 1-1 blindfolded.  Chaos ensues, but Chris ended up beating it after two game overs and on the last life of attempt 3.

Afterwards, Vernon joked that he was out there stalling for time due to Arin pooping and joked about making an attempt of standup comedy.  Before he leaves, he gives some homework to everyone: make a new friend at the show – it’s easy.  He also tells everyone to be kind and tells everyone to get loud and do the theme song. V: Hey, I’m grump. Us: I’M NOT SO GRUMP!  AND WE’RE THE GAME GRUMPS!

Coming out to music (Pour Some Sugar On Me) Arin and Dan ate up the applause. Dan was extra-hyped due to the show not only being the first outdoor show, but also in his birth state of New Jersey.  “Welcome Home” chants ensue.  There’s also a joke from Dan about how Arin would make cracks at live shows about the place they’re doing it, but Arin refused to do one due to fears of being beat up by Jersey folks.

Game time – Mario Party 10!  Dan was Yoshi and Arin was Peach.  The crowd was split into two sides – side one was Player 3, Waluigi and side two, my side, was Player 4, Toad.  We were given chants to shout out (“Wa-Lu-Igi!”/”Go Toad!  Go Toad!”)

Danny: (after giving each team their chants) I’m drunk with power!

To compensate for Player 3 and 4’s rolls, Arin would do that.  When Dan told the crowd to boo Arin when he rolled wrong, the crowd started to boo anyway.

Arin: Don’t boo yet!

Dan: Your Jersey hate is like vitamins(?) to me!

For Mini-games, someone to represent for each player team would come up onstage to play alongside Dan and Arin.  Mini-game 1 had Jonathon for team Waluigi and Devon for Team Toad.  When asked for something to get their respected teams hyped up, they said “Waaaaa” and “We’re the video game boys” (Us: We’re the ones who win!)  The game was a memory-esq game, which was gonna be bad for Dan (because of the weed he smoked in the 90’s killing his memory) and Arin (because he’s “an idiot”, in his words).  The game was intense with Jonathon winning.  This was when Dan noticed that, for some odd reason, Waluigi had ‘boob physics’.

Mini-game two came soon with Marcus (wearing a Dream Daddy T-shirt) and Kirsten (wearing the sexy Sonic costume) for Team Waluigi and Team toad respectively. The question asked, by Arin, was which sandwich is the favorite – Dan jokingly said that was the stupidest question ever asked… then asked “same question” for the other player (something similar happened later) and it was Tuna Melt VS BLT.  We were also asked to do a giant Golf Clap during the mini-game shenanigans.

The post-Golf clap comment from Dan: You have given Daddy the ASRM tingles.

Daddy Chants ensued.  Dan would do another “Daddy” comment shortly afterwards – “So many stars for Daddy”.

When it was time for the third Mini-game of the night, Dan and Arin noticed some cool stuff in the crowd – A “Bienvenue Power Bottoms” sign and a “Burgie” paper craft being held up.  Player 3 and Player 4 were Divan and Chris, who was dressed like Danny Sexbang, and their question was to say something to badmouth the opposing team.  Divan’s was “Boo, Toad, you suck!” while Chris was “This is why you weren’t in Smash!”  Burn comments ensue.  Mini-game turned out to be a three on one battle… everyone vs Arin.

Dan: It’s New Jersey VS Arin!

Arin eventually won that game and during and after the game, there was a “Fuck You, Arin” chant from everyone.  Dan “OK! OK!  Hang on!  Hang on! Hang on!  Don’t get me wrong… I love it…,” but he asked if they should do “Heck you, Arin” but decided nope and let the crowd continue.  He then joked about how the folks on the boardwalk were probably wondering what the hell’s going on at the show.

Mini-game four was with Erid and a tall guy named Roger.  Dan also noted that his dad, Avi, was in the audience.  I began to chant “Avi” and pretty soon a large chant for “AVI” started.  Team Toad/Roger won the mini game.

Mini-game five was Bowser related with a lot of stars up for grabs.  Both players were ladies – a female Danny who, like Dan, was Jewish, from Jersey, favorite color was light blue, and loved dinosaurs, and Renee, who had an LED helmet and had apparently been there since 6AM.  There were 6AM chants for her.  Dan noted that he smelt weed in the audience, which I thought was a stupid thing to go.  Dan then picked the wrong mini-game chosen for that round.  His reasoning for the screw up? “I HAVE GIANT THUMBS!”  Team Toad won that round again.

Final mini-game was up and it was Sophie and Bethany as players 3 and 4.  They were asked to say something to hype their teams.  Sophie said “Mycaruba” (a old-school Game Grumps joke) while Bethany’s was “We got this, dude!”  Team 3 won and the finally tally was Waluigi/Team 3 victory.

For the last bit of the show was a Q and A with the audience.  Ground rules were laid out: No selfies, no hugs, not songs, and you can’t touch Dan’s hair… so Dan touched his hair for us.

Q: Favorite Cartoon Network cartoon? A: from Dan, it was Aqua team Hunger Force and, since it was aired on CN, Starlight Brigade music video while for Arin, it was “Mighty Magisword”, which he worked on.

Q: Favorite game they got into via Grumps? A: Dan went with House Party while Arin couldn’t think of one.  They hyped the new version that was going to include them as characters coming soon.

Q: for Arin, favorite voice to do around the office? A: the Grubba voice and the “Ball-sniffing adventure” one.

Q: A request for some more Snipperclips, which they would love to do.

Q: For Arin, it was about the frequency of his pooping and asking the “Yum to Dump” ratio.

A: Arin talked about a incident from eating at Whataburger.  He pulled off at an exit and ate a burger from Whataburger. Got back on the interstate… and pulled over at the next exit to do a 2 at that exit’s Whataburger.

I think I’m gonna avoid Whataburger…. Q: Can Claud come back? (I have no idea who Claud was, but they want him to come back.  I think they meant “Claudio Sanchez”, who had appeared on Guest Grumps.)

Q: For Arin, favorite 3D Zelda game? A: first game he said was “A Link Between Worlds”.  When asked for a second, he picked “Wind Waker”.  Good choice.

Q: A request for more Dog Island and Princef Taaanx.

The next question was right by me and I managed to get two pictures of Vernon, who was out in the crowd getting the questions from the crowd.  I thanked Vernon for the second one, which he smiled for. Before the question was asked, there were some “Furry” jokes and Dan went into a long rant about being a Furry in reference to the running gag about him being one.  The question was about Starbomb and hopes for new stuff in relation to it.  Dan and Arin threw around some possibilities like a boxed set for the CD’s/vinyls.

Q: What’s gonna be the new format for live shows.  They have no idea.

Q: An offer to do later framing for CDs/Vinyls/etc.

Q: for Danny, since he and the asker are from Jersey, is it Pork Rolls or Taylor Ham? Dan picked Taylor ham, prompting booos.

Q: the original asker game his question op to his friend, who asked since they looked alike and had similar likes, does Dan know who the doctor was that cloned the two of them?

Dan thinks it was Def Leppard’s lead singer Joe Elliot (?)

The last question: "the band bowling for soup...are they bowling to receive soup or are they bowling on behalf of soup?"  Dan thinks they’re bowling on behalf of soup while Arin thinks it’s the former.

To end the show off, Dan notes this show meant a lot for him since it’s in Jersey and the best night.  “Danny”/”Jersey” chants.  Dan and Arin thanked everyone and left with a message: They don’t care what your race/religion/gender/political stance/etc. is, they love us.

Show ended a little around 950 and I got my ride back to the Inn to chill.

Pictures to come later

[megsblackfirewrites]

Keep Yourself Alive

Mortars fell from the sky and the ground evaporated beneath them. Jack yanked one of the German soldiers behind cover and covered their body with his. He felt heat rush over his back and he grit his teeth against the pain.

“You okay?” Jack yelled, feeling his eardrums throb as they tried to repair themselves.

“Shaken, but good,” the soldier shouted back. “Where’s the rest of the squad?”

Jack reached up for his earpiece and pressed down on the piece of tech. “Morrison to Squad B. Come in Squad B.”

“Squad B,” a muffled voice replied. “Good to hear your voice, Morrison. Thought we lost you after that last bombing.”

“I’m with Hasenkamp,” Jack said. “Where’s the Commander?”

“Reyes here,” a familiar, comforting voice shouted over the comms. “Looks like we got split into three different groups. I need a head count.”

“Two,” Jack said.

“Three,” the muffle voice said.

“And two with me. Fuck.”

Eight soldiers left from the twenty that went in. Jack reached up and push a hand into his fuzzy hair. He looked at the ground between his boots and felt bile rising in his throat. That was over fifty percent of their team gone. That was a lot of firepower gone in one fell swoop. Damn these omnics to whatever hole they crawled out of.

“We need to pull back,” Jack said. “Get who we can out of here.”

“Retreat’s cut off for almost everyone,” Gabriel said. “It’s going to be a fight to get back to base.”

“What about the Crusaders? Can they cut a swath for us?”

“Reinhardt’s three cities over,” Gabriel said. “No way he’ll get here in time.”

“Can command drop anything on us?”

“No.”

“Squad A?”

“No response.”

“C?”

“Three miles back dealing with OR-10s.”

“Wonderful,” Jack growled and looked up. “And I see dropships coming in for another round.”

Gabriel swore loudly. “Okay, I want a full retreat, understood? Do what you need to do, but we need to regroup with Squad C. I’m going to try to get a hold of Command, but there’s no guarantee about anything. No stupid risks. Get. Out.”

“Hoorah,” Jack snarled before he grabbed Hasenkamp’s arm. “Let’s go, bro. On your feet.”

Hasenkamp hauled himself to his feet and spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground. Jack had a moment of panic, but Hasenkamp shook his head.

“Chew the inside of my cheek when I get stressed,” he said. “Sorry. I’m good.”

“Just stay close,” Jack instructed. “We’ve got at least three miles to cover. More if Squad C’s been pushed back.”

Hasenkamp nodded and they bolted for the next cover. Jack kept his speed in check, vaulting over fallen debris with ease, but making sure that his slower companion stayed right behind him. He had to haul the exhausted soldier over whatever he could, watching their back as the dropships started swinging overhead.

“Bombs incoming,” he shouted over comms. “Get to cover!”

Hasenkamp dove under what must have been a car at one point and Jack followed him. He covered the other man as well as he could, both of them curling up as the bombs started falling. The explosions deafened him, leaving a terrifying ringing in his ears. He felt blood trickling down his jaw, but resisted the urge to wipe it away.

Hasenkamp was sobbing beneath him, wailing under Jack’s chest. Jack couldn’t blame him; he would be screaming too if he wasn’t so focused on keeping the other man alive. His hand tightened in Hasenkamp’s jacket and he shifted, drawing his knees up to make a better bubble over him.

The ground stopped shaking and Jack lifted his head. Dirt, dust, and smoke wafted through the air. He could smell something burning and knew that they had to move. He crawled out from under the twisted heap of metal and hauled Hasenkamp to his feet.

“We need to move,” Jack shouted.

Hasenkamp made a desperate motion with his hand before looking at the sky. “I can’t hear,” he shouted.

Jack nodded his head in understanding. He pointed towards the road and mimed running. Hasenkamp nodded and they took off as fast as they could. Jack watched the skyline, looking for any sign of falling ORs. Hasenkamp’s face was a mess of dirt with tear tracks rolling down his cheeks, but he moved like a trained soldier. He hadn’t been knocked down too far, at least.

Jack darted into a building and Hasenkamp slipped in behind him. Jack made a few quick signs and Hasenkamp pulled his helmet off. Jack popped the lid off of a stimpak and jabbed it into Hasenkamp’s arm, watching the desiccated flesh bounce back.

“Hear me?” he asked.

“Through a tunnel,” Hasenkamp shook his head. “But, yah.”

“Good,” Jack said as he pulled the stimpak away from the man’s arm. “Won’t repair much, I’m afraid, but it should get you to the field medics.”

Hasenkamp said something in German before he rubbed his face. He looked up at Jack and his brown eyes were swimming with tears. Jack pulled the man into a tight hug, squeezing harder as Hasenkamp clung to him.

“We’re going to get through this,” Jack murmured.

“Shouldn’t make promises like that,” Hasenkamp mumbled against Jack’s chest. “Can’t keep them.”

“I can if you are willing to follow my lead,” Jack smiled.

“I shouldn’t be crying like this,” Hasenkamp said as he tried to pull away.

“Maybe not, but you’re stressed and scared; I am too,” Jack said. “Seen worse reactions than just crying.”

Hasenkamp tightened his hands in Jack’s jacket before he pulled away. He wiped at his face and shook his head. He grumbled in German, looking around before he set his hands on his hips.

“So, where to from here?”

Jack looked out the window, remembering which way they had come a few hours before. He mapped it out in his head before pointing away from the building that they were in.

“That way for another mile,” he said. “At least.”

“Haven’t seen any omnics,” Hasenkamp said. “Think they’re just going to drop bombs and hope that they get us?”

“I’d wager at least one more run and then they’re going to drop on top of us,” Jack said. “That’s what they did in L.A.”

“Not so great,” Hasenkamp sighed and rubbed his face. “How are we going to survive this?”

“Hard work and pure, dumb luck,” Jack sighed. “Come on.”

Jack counted five soldiers from Squad B and grimaced. “Get medical,” he ordered as he shooed the limping soldiers along. “You haven’t heard anything from Commander Reyes?”

“Not since his orders,” Garret said as he leaned on his buddy’s shoulder. “Sorry, Captain.”

Jack shook his head and shooed them along. There was no reason for them to worry about the Commander; that was his responsibility now. He reached up and pressed a hand against his comm.

“Reyes, come in,” he said.

Static came back. He growled and repeated himself. He walked in a tight circle, glancing over at the commanding officer for Squad C. The woman shook her head and walked over.

“I haven’t heard anything either, Jack,” she said. “Should we pull back?”

“Get the others ready for transport,” Jack said as he looked to where his gun was being serviced by a technician. “I’m going to look for him.”

“You don’t know where to start,” the captain grimaced. “And if we lose you too….”

“You’ll have Reinhardt, Ana, and Torbjorn to help,” he said as he headed for his gun. “If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow, let high command know that we’re both KIA.”

The captain stared at him as if he was nuts as he shouldered his rifle. He left as quickly as he could, knowing that if he hung around too long, someone might try to stop him. He was not going to punch anyone in the face if he could avoid it, but he was not going to leave Gabriel on the battlefield to rot.

He ducked under the gate that kept the omnics out and headed for the heart of the city. Bombed-out shells of cars and buildings greeted him. Charred bodies reduced to pieces of discarded black extremities were strewn about, either the remains of the citizens or the soldiers that had been sent in ahead of them.

He forced himself not to think about how Gabriel’s corpse could be part of that number. It would still be burning if it was, so either Gabriel was still alive or he was dead further along.  He had to find him, either way. Gabriel’s family deserved to at least have his body.

He heard the rapid percussion of shotguns and veered towards the sound. He pushed on his earpiece, trying to get Gabriel to answer him. All that spat back at him was static until he rounded the corner.

“Motherfucker!” he shouted before diving out of the way. “Don’t shoot me, you fucking moron!”

“Sorry,” Gabriel snorted. “Little surrounded, in case your country bumpkin ass didn’t notice.”

Jack fired off three helix rockets and the omnics were reduced to scrap. He hurried to Gabriel’s side, spotting the dying bodies of the other two soldiers. He grimaced at the sight, wishing there was something he could do for them.

“Stay close,” Gabriel growled as he fired on the advancing omnics. “They’re like fucking ants!”

“Ants?”

“There’s a lot of them, okay.”

“And you didn’t think of wasps?”

“No. No, apparently, I think of annoying little, hardworking ants instead of fuck-off wasps.”

“At least your sense of humor hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“Small blessings, Jack, small blessings,” Gabriel snorted. “Duck.”

Jack threw himself to the ground as Gabriel started spinning. He didn’t know how Gabriel could fire his stupid shotguns that fast, but he wasn’t complaining as the omnics fell to pieces around them. He saw bullets blast through Gabriel’s torso, but he shrugged them off until the last omnic fell sparking to the ground.

“Gabe.”

Gabriel shook his head before stumbling over to one of the dying soldiers. Jack watched Gabriel kneel down and grab the man’s jaw, wrenching his head up and around to look at him. Bile burned in his throat and Jack looked away, unable to watch as Gabriel stole the life from the man’s body.

“Glad you’re still alive,” he said as he heard Gabriel groan in pain.

“Glad you came along when you did,” Gabriel grunted before he stumbled over to Jack and dropped down on the ground. “Those that you killed would have overwhelmed me otherwise.”

Jack nodded and reached out to pet Gabriel’s head. “Should head back,” he said. “They’re going to be looking for us.”

Gabriel sighed heavily. “I need a few minutes, Jack,” he said. “I managed to heal the wounds but I’m exhausted.”

Jack settled down beside Gabriel. He nodded and reached up to touch his earpiece. He managed to get a hold of Squad C and told them that Gabriel was alive and that they’d head for the extraction point when he could move. When he got the confirmation, he set a hand on Gabriel’s head and started gently massaging his scalp.

“I’m glad you made it,” Jack said.

“Me too,” Gabriel said before he slumped against Jack’s shoulder. “Watch my back.”

Jack smiled a little before he lifted his head to keep watch.