#and he was always getting carried away by cats dogs and vultures

[violetlunette]

Okay, so hear me out; an Au where everything is the same except Mic is only a foot tall.

Think about it; imagine a foot tall Mic with his extremely powerful quirk, yelling everywhere. And as a bonus he could ride on Aizawa’s shoulder everywhere. (Till Aizawa gets annoyed, then he gets shoved in a pocket.) Plus, Midnight treating him like a doll when she wants to tease him. Am I the only one who thinks this could be fun?

[bonecorn]

I love your anatomy/references posts & I love skulls and skeletons & I would love to know how you convince people to give you their animal heads to clean. Also any bone cleaning tips for suburban areas?? When I was living on a farm it was easy to leave stuff out and let the bugs take care of it but my parents said hard no to dead things bleaching on the porch

Oh this is very easy!

Find a friend or acquaintance with land and leave your stuff there. Bug cleaning and tub maceration don't need a lot of hands-on attendance so you can check in however often you like.

There's also "hot water maceration" where you simmer (dont boil!) fresh heads in hot water and remove the cooked meat by hand. Make sure you scramble the brains first and then cook away inside or with a camping stove on the porch. And "bleaching" which is done with hydrogen peroxide can be done inside since the skulls are already clean by then anyway.

I don't actually convince people to give me their pets. For livestock, I ask because most people aren't emotionally attached to their livestock.

For pets, I wait to be offered the remains. More on that under the cut.

TLDR: Know the pet owner, wait to be offered bodies rather than asking. Make sure they are always in control. Ask for livestock no problem. Don't let scavengers eat euthanized meat.

holy crap lol

I don't ask for pet bodies. The trick is to be very open and excited about what you do so that people who know you know about bones and know that you are respectful of animal remains. Then, when a beloved pet dies, they might think about you.

Open up the conversation on death before it's relevant

You can also plant the seed ahead of time during a conversation about bones while the pet in question is alive and healthy. "Sometimes I do pets if their owner is ok with it, though most want to bury. Have you ever thought about that for Baxter?" It's in SUPER poor taste to do this while an animal is dying, when you'll need to be way more tactful.

Know your friend well enough to guess their feelings on it

It SUPER depends on the person and how they view bodies and death. My ex's dog passed away and he was always queasy about corpses. I comforted him and cried with him while his beloved 15 year old dog declined and passed. I didn't ask or even mention it because I knew him enough to know that he would say no, and that asking would be painful and upsetting for him to think about. Same with my dear friend and her 20 year old cat. She had a beautiful pet graveyard with headstones and everything. You just know not to ask some people because traditionally laying bodies to rest is important to them.

Other pet owners are chill about it, ESPECIALLY if they come from a livestock background. Livestock people are used to sending their animals to be recycled into glue and wax when they die, because it's generally not feasible to bury or cremate a horse. If someone does plan to take that on, you know they are absolutely dedicated to traditional burial and won't give you anything.

Make it their choice to offer, rather than it being your request

Anyway. If you know the person, and you know they might be ok with giving up their pet's body due to how they view bodies and death, then you work on making them think about you. First, you comfort and do everything you can to help the person through their grief. If you weren't already planning on doing that, then you have no business asking for their pet. Do not comfort someone in order to get something out of them. That's disgusting. Just straight up ask them for their pet and know that they will view you as tactless and rude, but its better than manipulating them.

What I do is not manipulation, it's reminding people what you do and then letting them make their own decisions. When your friend is feeling a little better and is not crying, you can ask about logistics. I ask "What do you plan to do for burial/with the body?" and that usually makes them think about me and what I do with bodies. If they already have a meaningful spot picked out to bury or scatter/keep ashes, then that means the body is important to them and I shouldn't ask further.

At this point, they should realize what you could use the body for and think about how they feel about that. This is when my sister (who has a livestock background) offered her dog to me. We talked about how she thought of bodies, and she thought that the soul is the only thing that matters and once her dog passes there's nothing important left. I did not say anything to convince her, these were all her own thoughts.

It's very VERY important to respect and love the pet owner because they're extremely vulnerable and emotionally raw. That's why I don't straight up ask, because when you're losing a pet, you don't want to feel like someone is trying to gain something from you.

If your friend says they don't know or haven't decided what to do for the body, you can gently say "Let me know if you want me to help bury it, to take it with me, or to just be there for you." This is a close-ended statement and not a question. A question means that your friend has to come up with an answer right there and then, while an offer is actionable. This puts the power and autonomy in your friend's hands, so that when they make a decision it comes fully from their wants and needs and is not about you and what you want.

Be there for them even if you get nothing out of it

If they don't offer at this point, they're not going to. Now hold up your end of the bargain and continue to comfort and help through the grieving process. Again, if you aren't already invested in this person enough to want to soothe and comfort and be there for the human person in the equation, then you have no business asking for their pet. When a pet dies, your first concern should be to the person. If it's not, then you aren't close enough to ask for goodies.

Helping someone grieve is not payment for their pet's body. If you realize they aren't going to give you something in return for your comfort and so you abandon them, you're a terrible person using their grief to manipulate them for your own gain. Comfort is not payment. Closeness in grief is a metric by which you measure "Do I have any business to ask?"

The pet owner runs the show, not you

Throughout this process, stress that the owner can change their mind at any time. You don't want the owner to think "I hate this but I can't back out now because I promised..." Even when they animal is all wrapped up an in your vehicle and ready to go, quietly tell the owner that they can still choose what happens and if they have second thoughts, that's ok and you won't be mad.

My sister let me be there for putting her dog down and it was all about her and her love for her dog. She carried him out and laid him in my trunk and we stood in the rain and talked and hugged. She then told me she was happy that he could bring happiness to someone in life and now still in death, but that she didn't want to know anything. I agreed not to tell her or post anything about processing her dog, so for her it would be like burial. The same thing happened with my other friend's horse. She spent some time with him and then as soon as he passed she drove away and let me do what I wanted. She didn't want to hear Any of it. Again, I didn't ask or even offer, she came up with the idea of giving me the body all on her own even before I knew he was dying.

Horse people are much closer to pet owners than livestock owners, but they are used to sending their friend's bodies off to a different kind of processing (at Tallow factories, livestock remains are ground up, cut apart, cooked, and spun around to extract various substances that become soap, glue, candles, etc) so they know not to think about what happens after death. It still depends on how well you know the owner and know how they think about death, but if you offer to handle logistics like dealing with the tallow guy, they can actually save money by letting you have it.

You're actually doing livestock a favor

Livestock people are generally chill and have a much more utility/asset view of their animals. If the animal doesn't even have a name they probably don't care what happens when it's dead. In fact, most farmers will jump at the chance to give you their animal for free because calling the tallow company to haul it away costs them money. This is also why in areas with lots of livestock, you sometimes find bodies dumped in ditches or left on the side of the road, because the farmer didn't want to pay to get rid of it so they made it everyone else's problem. Even pet animals like dogs and cats are more Utility than pure companions on a farm, so you might have a better chance of getting remains from a farmer than a neighbor.

One more thing about pets and livestock.

When I find a dead deer, I flay it open and let the vultures eat it. For domestic animals, they are often put to sleep via chemical/drug.

THIS IS POISONOUS TO SCAVENGERS.

DO NOT LET SCAVENGERS EAT EUTHANIZED ANIMALS

Seriously. If you like nature, you need to protect it. Deflesh it yourself, throw all the meat/blood/offal away or bury it 6 feet down. Idk what it does to the environment so I always freeze it and then throw it away on garbage day.

Rot bacteria and beetle larvae dermestids don't mind. In fact, dermestid droppings and pupa shells can be analyzed for toxins by forensic scientists to determine cause of death. Neat! Just make sure that if you process outdoors, the remains are EXTREMELY SECURE and cannot be opened by vultures, coyotes, or wild pigs.

Remember the living, human person

I know I look very clinical by picking apart human emotions, but I respond, feel, love, and grieve just like everyone else. I didn't plan how to get any of the animals in the above stories, I just acted on instinct and these are the ones where that paid off well.

Most of the time if I go "huh. I feel that may not go over well" I can then take that feeling apart and figure out why. So hopefully explaining how my feelings work it can help you listen to your most useful and most compassionate ones.

The living person is always more important than a dead pet. Sometimes you can get the dead pet without distressing your friend, sometimes you shouldn't even try.

Respecting the dead

A final note on working with pets vs wild animals. This is someone's family member, so don't play puppet with it like you might with a skunk skin. Don't take pictures of any part of the process until they are rendered to bones. Pictures of dead pet species are even more distressing to the general public than wild animals, and sick freaks might take your photos and send them to people for kicks or attention. Better to just not have photos than for that to happen.

What processing a pet feels like

Working on a pet is always going to be different for you, the vulture, than a wild animal. Everything you see is touched by human hands. My sister's dog was... beautiful. You don't really realize how moved you're going to be by seeing the perfect amount of healthy fat covering, or beautiful muscles that speak of exercise and attention. She rescued this starving pup and turned him into the healthiest animal I have ever seen. She's a vet assistant and the care and love she put into this dog had me sitting there crying while I held his paws; with their perfectly maintained clipped and sanded nails. I'd only met the dog once for a few minutes when he was alive, but his body was a canvas and every inch was painted with layers and layers of love. It made me so, so sad that his neurological issues couldn't be helped because his body was proof of someone who would stop at nothing to cure what could be cured, and that the last months of his life were happier than he ever imagined.

On the flip side, pets whose bodies show signs of neglect and abuse are going to hit you harder than any deer could. The dog I found discarded in a garbage bag on the side of the road had rotten teeth and nails so long they curled over themselves into hoops. An overgrown and suffering deer is just the sign of nature taking its course. An overgrown and suffering dog is the sign of human cruelty, of shirked responsibility.

Most pets you get will between these two dogs. No owner is perfect. Most old dogs have lost teeth to rot, sick cats too weak to scratch properly may have overgrown nails.

Death as beauty

A pet's body usually a beautiful story full of ups and downs; of owners doing things wrong and then doing things right. A vulture or an artist can read a body like rings on a tree and feel the heart beat in their chest that tells them how strong and full of love this life had been. You need to be ready for this part. Every detail is a message from your fellow human and even though we are all animals and we decompose into the same dirt, we're meant to connect to each other here and now.

Keep your emotions open when working with remains.

Listen to what they have to teach you.

[maddrmatt]

A Beautiful Future: A Premonition or a Punishment?

New to this fanfic? Click here to properly begin!

Greetings, readers and fellow SoKai fans!

Time for a certain Princess of Heart to take the spotlight in this story!  

Fair bit of warning though, I sort of used this chapter to showcase a few headcanons and speculations regarding the future of the series.  

Also, there’s a little challenge within this chapter that you can take on if you wish.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 3: Writings of a Princess

Land of Departure

Dear Sora,

I know it’s been a while since I last wrote to you.  I haven’t really had anything really important to tell you since I came here.

Now something incredible has just happened and I had to tell you first before anyone else.  But before that, here’s a few updates on what’s been happening on this side of reality.

I’m still training hard.  No offense to Merlin, but I think I’m getting way better with my Keyblade training under Master Aqua than him.

My days here at the Land of Departure are filled with learning various fighting techniques or improving my magic skills.  And to test them, I often spar with Aqua, Terra or Ven.  One day, I might even get a perfect score against one of them in our matches.

All of three of them and Chirithy have been very good to me. They’ve really made me feel like part of their family.

But as great as it’s been with them, they’re no true replacement for everyone back home.  I miss everyone:  Mom, Dad, Selphie, Wakka, Tidus, Riku, and you.  Especially you.

Sorry, Sora.  It’s just so hard every day knowing that you’re trapped in that fictional world.  I really wish I could’ve gone there with Riku to save you.  But after being out of action for a year and the fact that I couldn’t even land a single blow on that memory of Xehanort, I knew it was the better choice to stay behind and train even if I didn’t like it.

I really hope Riku finds you soon.  We’re all so worried about both of you.  Since nobody really knows anything about this Quadratum place, we’ve all thought Riku was a little hasty in just taking off there alone.

We still haven’t heard anything from Mickey yet either. Hopefully, he’ll come back soon from Scala Ad Caelum, and he’ll have found something we can use to help you and Riku.  Until that happens, all the rest of us can do is wait.

Anyway, time to tell you the real reason for this latest letter, Sora. And you are not going to believe what it is.  I can hardly believe it myself.

Last night, I had a dream.  It was actually the first dream I’ve had since I came to the Land of Departure.

Not that I’ve minded not having dreams just in case they ended up being recreations of my worst memories.  I’ve already watched you vanish twice.  I don’t think I could bear to watch it happen again in my dreams.

But the dream I had was nothing like that at all.  It was of a wedding, Sora.  Our wedding.

It was an amazing sight.  It was in this gigantic chapel that looked like it was in Radiant Garden, and it was filled with all your friends from around the worlds.

Many of our fellow Guardians of Light and closest friends made up our wedding party.  It was hardly a surprise to see Selphie as my maid of honor or Riku as your best man.

You looked so handsome in the suit you were wearing.  And judging from the stunned look on your face when you saw me coming down the aisle, I must’ve looked pretty beautiful to you.

It was truly incredible, Sora.  It felt so real and so wonderful.  I wished it never ended.

But, unfortunately, as it is with dreams, we all have to wake up eventually.  And when I did, the happiness I felt ended up giving way to other emotions as I reflected on the dream.

First of all, I felt a little confused.  As good as that dream was, I couldn’t help but wonder why I had it at all.  I mean, wouldn’t you find a little strange to have a dream about a wedding especially since we haven’t even had our first kiss yet?  It’s kind of rushing things a little.  

But don’t get me wrong, Sora.  I know, deep down in my heart, how we truly feel about each other. I wouldn’t have shared that paopu fruit with you otherwise.  And when the time is right for it, the idea of getting married to you is something I will embrace wholeheartedly.

So, I thought more about the dream and believe it or not, I started to think that it was not merely just a dream.  I wonder if what I saw was our future.  It definitely did feel like that since there were so many unfamiliar parts in it.  

For example, I had no idea there was a tradition in Radiant Garden weddings for the bride and groom to crown each other with symbolic flowers.  Then again, I could have known that if the knowledge came from a memory from when I lived there.  Maybe I attended a wedding there when I was young.

But what really stood out to me and made me believe that this could be our future was the many unfamiliar guests.  I knew that because I’ve been studying the details of your last two journeys from Jiminy’s Journal and the Gummi Phone.  And even though the Journal of your first journey was erased (Naminè’s still really sorry about that), I still remember everything about it from being in your heart through it all.

So, I was able to recognize who you had met and who were strangers. They were far too numerous to mention. But here are some examples that really stood out to me.

A tall woman with long black hair wearing a tan colored dress and a beautiful turquoise necklace with a raccoon, a dog and I think I saw a hummingbird flittering around her.

A pair of robots, one yellow and box-shaped, the other white and cylindrical, who were holding hands.

A couple that consisted of a redhaired woman and blonde-haired man who appeared to have some kind of hairless rodent on his shoulder.

A teenage boy and girl along with a younger boy and a company of animals such as a bear with gray fur, a panther, an elephant with a tuft of brown hair and a quartet of vultures.

A large family that appeared to be a mix of humans and skeletons along with a very colorful winged dog and a giant winged cat.

A boy with red hair (whose head looked triangular) along with another boy with green hair and a bunch of other teenagers as well as some kind of strange teal animal that looked like a cross between a duck and a beaver and a man with brown hair, poor posture and wearing a lab coat (who wears that to a wedding?).

A princess dressed in a beautiful green gown accompanied by a prince in a green suit with a blonde woman dressed in pink, a short old woman dressed in white and wearing sunglasses and a snake around her shoulders as well as an alligator who was carrying a trumpet.

A very unusual group consisting of two men and a woman with blue skin and pointy ears along with a dog-sized dragon, a centaur, and a winged lionlike creature with horns and a scorpion’s tail.

A girl with bushy brown hair among what appeared to be a family of giant frogs.

A woman dressed like she was some kind of islander with a burly man with numerous tattoos (I think I saw one of them move) over his body along with a pig and a chicken that didn’t look very smart.

A family who seemed to be some kind of royalty consisting of a princess in a simple green dress with long curly red hair along with three identical boys with the same kind of hair, their big, strong father with a peg leg and their very elegant mother.

A boy and a girl who looked like they were twin siblings who were accompanied by a pair of old men who looked like twins as well.

A redhaired boy in the company of a group of what looked like various human-sized bugs.

There were so many more, but I think I’ll stop here.  With the large number of guests at this wedding, I could go on listing them for a long time.  But it does seem there’s a lot more friends for you in the future.

Unfortunately, while I was mulling over the dream further, a horrible thought came to me.  I started to wonder if the dream, as beautiful as it was, wasn’t meant to bring me happiness at all because it was actually showing the future that we could have had but now would never have.  And the true reason of it was to punish me for my failures in the fight against Xehanort.

I know you wouldn’t like to hear this, Sora.  But there are still days where I can’t help but feel responsible for your disappearance and think that if I had made some different choices, you’d still be here.

I know it was my choice to fight alongside you because I wanted to keep you safe the same way you’ve always done for me.  But looking back, I now see it was foolish to assume that my training alongside Axel would turn me into a Keyblade wielder on yours or Riku’s level. And it was probably an even worse idea for a wielder with very little actual battle experience to go from basic training to a high stakes battle with nothing in between.

We may have been desperate to stop Xehanort before he went after the New Seven Hearts especially since he had already assembled all his darknesses. But we probably could’ve and should’ve explored some other options instead of going to fight the Organization right away after you woke Ven.

Since Ienzo told us that they had a replica body ready before we even left for the Keyblade Graveyard, we could’ve gotten Roxas or maybe even Xion out of your heart before the fight.  In Axel’s words, they were the old hands when it came to Keyblades.

We also could have made a bigger effort to find and save Terra first even if our chances were pretty low.  That would not only have gotten us a more experienced wielder, but it would’ve also lowered Xehanort’s ranks by one.

Maybe if we had done things that way, we would’ve had more experienced Keyblade wielders to fill out the Seven Guardians of Light.  And even if it would be disappointing to be put in the reserves, it would’ve been worth it if it led to you being safe.

So, those are the reasons I believed that dream was a punishment. But you’ll be glad to know, Sora, that I only entertained those beliefs briefly.

After thinking it over some more, I decided that it didn’t matter what that dream’s purpose was.  Comfort or punishment, I’m going to actually use it to serve my own purposes instead.

I’m going to let it remind me of what my ultimate goal is and drive me to be the best Keyblade wielder I can be.  One that’s going to make the forces of darkness think twice before causing trouble and one that you and Riku will be proud to have fighting alongside you.  And hopefully, that will lead us to a future like the one in the dream or at least one that’s pretty close.

In fact, after seeing that dream, I think I may end up actually proposing a couple of ideas to Aqua and Master Yen Sid.  I’ve been thinking about them a lot and maybe now is the time to try to put them into action.

Since I need to get some real battle experience to become a stronger Keyblade wielder, I’d like to go on a journey throughout the worlds to gain some. Hopefully, Aqua will think it’s a good idea.  And even though there’s been little sign of the Heartless and Nobodies since Xehanort’s defeat, there is one thing I really wish to do.

I’d like to try to find and identify the remaining three of the New Seven Hearts.  After all, who’d better to find them than someone who’s part of the same group?  And if we knew who they were and what their home worlds were, we’d be in a better position to protect them if someone tried what Maleficent and Xehanort did.

Who knows?  Maybe all those unfamiliar faces at the wedding were not only friends you’ll make on future adventures, but ones I’ll make on my own adventures.  Maybe even the remaining New Seven Hearts were among them.

I also have an idea that may be able to help in the quest to bring you home. If Fairy Godmother could bring me back to the Final World, I could talk to that girl from Quadratum again.  She may not be able to remember certain things. But she might be able to tell us something about that world that could help.  

Naminè might even be able to help with this plan.  Even if you only met that girl briefly, that may be enough for her to be considered connected to you and therefore, Naminè’s memory powers can work on her.

Hopefully, the Masters will think that these are good plans.  I really want to do any part I can to not only help bring you and Riku home, but also to protect the worlds as both a Keyblade wielder and a Princess of Heart.  After all, with you two gone, someone’s got to pick up the slack.

Well, I think that’s enough for now.  It’s nearly time for breakfast and then it’s training until lunch.  But before I go, there’s just one final thing I’d like to say.

Whether that beautiful dream shows a wonderful future that is meant to be or not, it doesn’t matter.  Because the only kind of future I’ll ever wish for is one in which we’re safe, we’re happy, and we’re together.  That’s all I really need.

See you soon,

Kairi

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Much later, the training hall in the Land of Departure was filled with the sounds of clashing Keyblades and various shouts of magical invocation.  While those sounds were nothing uncommon in that location, there was an unusual intensity that day.

As Aqua, Ven and Chirithy watched, a heated sparring match was taking place between Kairi and Terra.  But much to their surprise, the more experienced Keyblade wielder was actually struggling as the young rookie was keeping him mostly on the defensive.

“Wow!  Kairi’s on fire today!” exclaimed Ven.

“She is, indeed,” concurred Chirithy.

“Well, she has improved a lot in her skills since she came here.  But you two are right.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this driven before,” said Aqua.

“You’ve got that right, Aqua.  If she lands one more hit on Terra, this’ll be the first time she’s won by a perfect score,” said Ven.

As the match went on, Terra blocked blow after blow from Kairi.  Then, strangely, she ceased her attack.

Terra saw his opportunity and charged toward her with a downward slash. The Princess dodged to the right narrowly avoiding the hit.

“Light!” she cried out as she fired a small but powerful Light spell at Terra’s side.  He grunted as the magic struck him and knocked him off his feet.

“Point to Kairi,” declared Aqua.

“That’s three to nothing!  Kairi wins!” exclaimed Ven as Chirithy clapped its paws together.

“Well done, Kairi,” said Aqua.

“Thank you, Master Aqua,” Kairi said as she walked over to Terra and helped him up.  

After exchanging bows with each other, the Princess of Heart said, “I hope that didn’t hurt you too badly, Terra.”

Terra chuckled.  “Not at all.  It helps that you’ve learned how to restrain your magic during training.  But I’ve got to say, Kairi that I am impressed. That’s the first time since you’ve come here that I’ve been unable to land a single hit on you.”

“You’ve certainly come a long way, Kairi.  Today, you showed some truly exceptional skill and strength.  You should be very proud of yourself,” said Aqua as she, Ven and Chirithy approached.

“Well, I’ve had a good teacher and some great sparring partners.  But I think it really helped that when I woke up today, I just felt a little extra drive,” said Kairi.

“Yes.  We noticed,” said Aqua.

“Why is that exactly?” asked Chirithy.

A certain smile came to Kairi’s face which caused her four friends to exchange knowing looks.  They had spent plenty of time with her by now to know what exactly brought out that special smile of hers: thoughts of a certain someone close to her heart.

“I had the most amazing dream.”

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Notes from the Mad Doctor:

I thought the best way for Kairi’s spotlight chapter would be to do in the style of one of her letters to Sora.  I’ve used it before as readers of my big fic Kairi’s Epic Journey would know.

So, in case it wasn’t obvious, the challenge I mentioned at the start is that list of unknown guests.  It was quite a challenge to write all those characters by description alone.  I hope you all will take a shot at identifying them. Some are pretty obvious, but some may be a little more difficult.

I hope I did a good job in trying not to make this chapter’s narrative too similar to the previous chapters.  I actually tried having Kairi leap to the punishment notion before the premonition notion.  But unfortunately, the flow didn’t work right.

Fortunately, the views on the punishment notion are a little different. Sora has absolutely no regrets for what he did and believes that he’s being unfairly punished for breaking rules he had no idea existed.  Kairi, however, believes her punishment is deserved since she blames herself for what happened to Sora.  Fortunately, both are able to use that dream to keep on fighting.

I hope you all aren’t put off that this is more like a series of one-shots centered around a certain plot device (the wedding dream) instead of a congruent storyline.  That was what this project ended up being.

I give my thanks to whoever reads this chapter.

I also give my special thanks to @fandomchanger, @flynn-science​, and @ladylucky​ for their likes on the previous chapters as well as @sokaiweek, @phoenix-downer, and @the-secret-place​ for reblogging the previous chapter.

Comments, likes and reblogs are much appreciated!  Stay tuned for what comes next because it’s going to be a real feel-good chapter!

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Onto the next chapter!

[rigelsenshis]

the old guard + dæmons

a completely self-indulgent au bcos dæmons sit squarely in the Top Five Best Storytelling Concepts Ever Created and i will absolutely fight you on this it’s the hill i will die on

i made a post about this that evolved in a beautiful thread, with so many great ideas being shared by a lot of wonderful people, and then spent a couple of days thinking about possible shapes and possible names and this probably longer-than-comfortable post is the result of all that so i hope you enjoy let’s discuss let’s talk about this god i just love dæmons so much

first things first, some ground rules of how dæmons might work when taking into account the old guard’s particular flavor of immortality. @fleurdufeu suggested that the dæmon gets Severed with the person’s first death, the one that triggers immortality. and with each death (@en-sam-malas also brought this up) the dæmon can travel farther and farther away and can stay awake when their human is sleeping, contributing to the general idea of Otherness™ the old guard carries with them, especially in a world with a dæmons. @dearest--gertrude also suggested that just like the first deaths takes longer to return back from, dæmons would be slower to reappear— taking maybe two or three days the first time (which would add to the shock of having discovered immortality bcos like??? i’m alive??? and without my dæmon??? what the fuck???) to movie-time when the dæmon’s body is already there even before the human comes back to life. which only leads to the fact that when the final death comes the dæmon does disappear in a puff of golden dust like in hdm and creates a general wave of Angst (like i imagine that’s how Andy and Quynh knew that it was Lykon’s time, bcos his dæmon just disappeared and didn’t return)

@en-sam-malas added two Great Ideas, which is that most of the old guard would not have grown up with the taboo of not touching other people’s dæmons and so would use them in battle against other humans (which highlights their Otherness™ once again), and that their dæmons can probably undergo changes of shape— not as frequent as a child but following big traumatic events, like their first death, huge losses and grief and so on, and that’s the idea i’ve built on when looking for suitable shapes for each of them so here we fucking go (note that i did omit Lykon bcos we know so little of him atm but maybe when more material comes out we’ll be able to figure him out better???)

Nile

i’d like to think that as times grow more modern, dæmons’ names grow more modern as well— bcos Nile’s from Chicago, her dæmon could be called Jazz (bcos of the city’s history with the music genre) or Hopper (bcos Hopper’s Nighthawks is in Chicago and Nile loves art??? is it a stretch??? i’m open to better ideas for sure). her dæmon probably settled sometime after her father’s death into a german shepherd, as suggested by @stevie-harrington bcos in hdm many soldiers are shown to have a dog dæmon and dog dæmons are reliable and intelligent, pack animals that can hold their own in a fight. when she comes back from her first death Hopper is not with her, which only adds to the uneasiness the other marines feel around her bcos how tf is she alive without her dæmon this is just Wrong. he reappears when she wakes up in the back of the van, and it’s only on the plane that she realised that something is different about him and that he’s not exactly a german shepherd anymore— i’d like for his first changed shape to be one of those dogs that could be wolves and toy the line between the two (bcos it’s a bit more wild and also bcos i’d like Andy to have a wold dæmon and for Nile’s to resemble Andy’s since it’s vaguely implied she will take her place as leader of the old guard)

Booker

Booker’s dæmon is called Manette (which means “bitter���/”bitterness” and i mean,,,,nomen omen) and when it first settled it was a marmoset, as suggested by both @mewbotz and @fleurdufeu, an animal dexterous enough to help him with his forgeries and also deeply family oriented (marmosets mate for life are very involved in bringing up younglings which would make sense to Booker falling deep into desperation once his family passes). Manette changes the first time when he dies, and again @fleurdufeu suggests she could turn into a carrion crow to blend in with the others while Booker hangs for three/four days, brings him idk insects to eat and stays on his shoulder and they both cry bcos they don’t understand what happened to them and they feel each other but they’re also so different (crows are also family oriented and they mimic sounds so in theory she’s like her previous form but also with trauma and the imagery of death). she could turn into a cinereous vulture when the last members of Booker’s family die, reserved and passive and isolated, and then during movie-time she’s something even smaller, maybe even a mouse, bcos grief has twisted Booker into something that he himself cannot recognise and he sleeps with Manette in his hands like he used to do when she was a monkey and it feels almost the same but not quite. i’d assume that after the ordeal with Quynh she changes shape again, maybe if he starts healing up a bit??? 

Nicky + Joe

they go together bcos a) obviously and b) their dæmons have very similar stories and changes of shape so it makes sense for me to talk about them together

i called Nicky’s dæmon Glauca, which is a sort of shortening of the Homeric epithet given to the goddess Athena, glaukôpis aka bright-eyed (you get it??? like Nicky himself when will Luca’s eyes leave me in peace the answer is never). bcos he was born in a coastal city i’d like to his dæmon to have settled into a sea bird, and i chose the shape of a scopoli’s shearwater, a bird that’s native to Liguria and a good swimmer

i chose Zahara for Joe’s dæmon, a name that means most exquisite bcos i thought about the fact that he was an artist and a poet but i’m Very Much Open to more informed opinions than mine. Zahara’s first shape could have been a fennec, native to Northern Africa and a very outgoing kind of animal which i feel would match Joe’s personality

the first change for both of them is, again obviously, when they kill each other for the first time. when they find their dæmons again after having spent like three days in a blind rage and confusion and pain and where is my dæmon have it lost her what have i become it’s his fault they’re both smaller in dimension, bcos they’re in shock, and more vicious than their original shape, so i picked a stoat for Nicky and a genette for Joe— both small carnivores, native one to Europe and the other to North Africa, and they just tear into each other again for a not-better-specified amount of days it’s just sword scimitar teeth claws whatever. i then see Nicky and Joe sort of “making peace” and travelling together from Jerusalem to the sea, where they part ways, and the shock is so great, the reflection they go through when they’re apart so massive that causes another change, this one the farthest away from their “personality” as they struggle to understand who they are now and what they have become. Zahara becomes a blackbird and Glauca a cape hare, shapes that neither of them feel like are right

when they both start to make peace with what they have become and realise that there might be Feelings popping out, say like a couple of centuries after Jerusalem they’ve caught glimpses of each other in other Crusades and such, both dæmons change into cats. smaller cats for now, and when Joe and Nicky go and look for each other and find each other in Malta and realise that they love each other and share some poetic and lyrical declaration of eternal adoration they wake up and find their dæmons in similar shapes— big cats, like @mewbotz suggested. Joe’s dæmon settles into a leopard, majestic and sun-like, while Nicky’s becomes a panther, hiding in the shadows, fiercely protective and betraying Nicky’s nature of actually being a Pretty Dangerous Guy. and @mewbotz goes on to say that Joe and Nicky are so inseparable that their dæmons actually follow the other around, a way to always make sure they’re safe, and so it looks like Joe’s the one with Glauca the panther and Nicky’s the one with Zahara the leopard and in that way they’re never really apart and it’s Beautiful

Quynh

bcos they’re both so old, i have this idea that neither Quynh not Andy remember the actual very first shape their dæmon took (like Andy says that she doesn’t remember the faces of her sisters, for example). i’d like for him to be called Giao Long, a name lifted from Vietnamese myths about dragons, but again i only acquired this knowledge through internet searches so if anyone more informed wants to weigh in i’d be Very Happy

when Quynh’s riding with Andy, her dæmon is a crested serpent eagle, as suggested by @fleurdufeu, with the beautiful image of it flying close to Quynh’s arrow as it sails towards its target like @mewbotz said. the fact that their dæmons are so eerie and strange contribute to the English townspeople believing Quynh and Andy are witches, and when they throw Quynh overboard her dæmon is left flying above the water and it’s just a horrible cycle of madness with the dæmon changing shape to a bird to a fish to an insect reaching her into her cage flying above just mad with grief and pain like Quynh herself is

they find each other when she gets out but they’re both broken and twisted in an ugly way, and the dæmon has turned into something she can keep close— i’d partial to the idea of a snake bcos she was “a pit viper in a fight” and even tho they can separate like every other immortal they never do bcos the trauma is too great

Andy

i got Andy’s dæmon’s name from the Italian wikipedia page about Scythians and for the life of me i can’t find the same info in english but like, apparently there was a mythical/semi-mythical Scythian king called Colassai??? i find it a very fitting name and like Andy herself he could have shortened it to Cole in the modern age

Andy doesn’t remember his first shape (but i realised the deer was a pretty important animal in Scythian culture so maybe it could have been one???), but when she meets Lykon her dæmon is a wild boar— still an earthbound animal, brutal in a fight to match her axe-wielding fighting style. when she meets Quynh, their dæmons match (immortal wives and immortal husbands with matching dæmons for the win) and @fleurdufeu suggested it might be a golden eagle, The™ steppes’ predator

losing Quynh definitely triggers a change of shape and Andy’s dæmon becomes earthbound once again, as if Quynh’s death clipped its wings, and it become maybe a fox??? smaller, still vicious, still useful in a fight. then, when Andy’s in Australia with Achilles (as per the comics but also the movie bcos i think they showed Andy’s portrait in the cave) her dæmon could take the shape of an Australian-born animal, maybe a dingo??? and in movie-time her dæmon is a full out wolf, leader of the pack, brutal in a fight— and Nile’s dæmon slowly starts to resemble Andy’s wolf

and that’s the end of this dissertation-length monstrosity if you managed to get here wow i’m truly Moved

[bigfan-fanfic]

Far From Home (Male!Reader x Peter Parker)

Requested by Anonymous for #21 from “Ideas Bumping Around”

Note: This totally got away from me and evolved into something else. Hope you like!

It’s kind of a strange feeling never to have met your boyfriend in person.

You met as part of an e-Pen Pal initiative for schools nationwide. You two were matched at random and started talking over email, exchanging school pictures.

It’s fun for you. You don’t have a lot of other friends - Peter’s an escape for you, always being there to talk to you. 

You’re almost constantly connected. Of course you email each other, but you’ve exchanged numbers and have had an ongoing chat for years. Basically, as long as you are online, you’re in the midst of communicating with him

Peter sometimes uses words, sometimes he expresses himself through meme. Sometimes there is trouble communicating.

Peter sends a GIF he found of a cat getting scared and falling off a shelf.

You: Lol. ???

Peter: It’s you! Scared because you’re old now! Happy birthday!

You: adhafonhaf THX PETE

And after a few years of being best friends despite never having met in person, he sends you a GIF of two puppies cuddling.

You: Adorable! *Heart emojis*

Long wait. Then:

Peter: Can this be us?

Peter: Will you be my bowling?

Peter: Aadhadohaf

Peter: Bowling

Peter: BOWLING

Peter: B  O   Y  F  R  I  E N  D ???

Peter: Sry autocorrect

You: YES. SO MUCH YES!!!!

Text failed. Retry?

Eventually the lines cross, and you exchange short videos of blowing kisses at each other.

Peter feels bad about not telling you about Spider-Man. He has to lie and say he’s been studying paper books because it takes so much time away from you two talking.

And then you offer to tutor him, and he just melts because you’re so sweet and smart and pretty.....

He gets that dreamy look and is distracted for a while.

But eventually something special happens.

You send him a link to a YouTube of Spider-Man talking to an older woman who’s buying him a churro. And then you call.

“Peter. You’re safe, right?”

“Y/N? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I hope Spider-Man isn’t boyfriends with someone who would die for churros, because he’d be pretty ticked off that they weren’t sharing. On an unrelated note, I like churros quite a bit.”

“Uh....”

“Don’t worry, Pete. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK.”

You hang up.

Peter thinks you don’t know.

But you urge him to check out your Tumblr, where you’ve started to occasionally post self-defense articles and first-aid hacks.

Peter sees this and is like, “HE KNOWS!?!?!?!?!”

But you become his long-range support sidekick. He loves you more and more every time you discreetly help him.

Because you know anyone could be monitoring either of you, you’re always the one to bring up Spider-Man stuff, under the guise of you being obsessed with the Queens-based superhero. 

Like, “Pete, have you seen this video? Spider-Man nearly got killed by some bank robbers with weird weapons!”

And he’ll say that he heard Spider-Man was okay. It’s completely normal. Everyone your age in New York is talking about him.

And a few days later you mention that you looked at some blog about crime in New York and text a link and a “Stay safe xoxo”

And the article has mentions of crimes using alien weapons and a map of where they are, helping Peter to track down the source.

But the two of you first meet during the events of Homecoming.

You’re on your school’s Scholastic Decathlon team, and you get to go to D.C., where you plan to meet Peter.

And he really wants to, but then he has to try and follow the lead on the alien energy source.

He’s about to leave his room when there’s a knock, and you’re there.

“Y/N?”

“Pete!”

You two hug like you were made for it. Peter sighs a little and leans in, and the two of you share your first kiss, the first of many.

And then you see he’s in his suit.

You don’t take no for an answer, and he has to take you with him. You’re a surprisingly skilled ally.

He’s super strong and carries you as he swings along, and finds out you’re good at hiding wherever he might set you down. You both are trapped on the DODC truck, after you’ve pepper-sprayed the Vulture

It was ineffectual because he was wearing goggles, but it obscured his vision enough for Peter to get the upper hand. 

When you are trapped in the warehouse, you and Pete catch up on everything, telling each other everything that didn’t make it into the texts and chats. He tells you about Germany, but is even more interested in you.

You two end up falling asleep, him giving you his Decathlon team sweater to keep warm, snuggling together.

You don’t even get in trouble afterward

Because you were awesome. You had already made sure everyone knew you were gonna meet your boyfriend because you were so excited, and then you convinced your friend who was bunking with you to cover for you once you knew you wouldn’t make it to the Decathlon. He spread the story that you were throwing up all night, and he found Ned and made sure he did the same. No one says anything, but the teachers assume you two snuck out together on a midnight date and got food poisoning or mono or something, and decide to let it go.

After D.C, you promise to meet each other again soon.

And, as always, you keep in touch.

Peter texts you as soon as he’s on the way back to New York

Peter: Y/N?

You: Yeah?

Peter: *heart emojis* I love you.

You send a GIF of a kitten curling up on top of a dog who just lets it happen

You: I love you too.

Peter: You’re the bass

Peter: Base

Peter: B E S T Ilysm

You: Love you more!

[paperficwriter]

Our Endless Numbered Days

All Might and Aizawa, being soft and affectionate and having breakfast together. Because what else is the Retired Symbol of Peace going to do?

There are a lot of good days.

Some days after Kamino, Yagi Toshinori can get up and go jogging. He can put on his new suits that are actually tailored to fit him, and he can stand up straight, push his hair back (even though it bounces right back into place like flopping rabbit ears) and walk out the door. On those days, Aizawa Shouta lets himself stay in bed a little longer, and he tells him after the fact that it's because he has so much more space to himself, but the truth is he loves to see him thriving.

And he knows that if he waits and dozes, eventually Yagi will come back, fresh from a shower, and even though that thin body seems light enough that it could break in a strong wind, he'll welcome it, bare and soft under the blankets to cover his own.

"Shouta," he'll whisper, kissing him, nuzzling into his scruff. "Wake up, love."

Aizawa smiles, and pretends to sleep so he'll do what he likes. What they like.

But sometimes, especially a year or so later, there are days that aren't as good.

Although that's not to say they're bad. When Aizawa rolls over and the sun has passed beyond the eyelid of the window, he sees Yagi's dark eyes staring up at the ceiling. It's not clear if he's lost in thought or if he's trying to seek the fortitude he once had to fight villains, now needed just to conquer gravity and find his clothes or the bathroom. Aizawa finds his hand under the covers, and they feel so much older than he is. Years beyond their time. And he asks, "Bad day?"

There's the smile. "Of course not."

He squeezes, wryly adding in the tepid light creeping into his partner's expression, "Is All Might too stubborn for bad days?"

Even though it's hard when he's this tired, this worn, Yagi rolls over, lifting Aizawa's scarred fingers to his lips. He can just make our the shape of that tender smile. "How could it ever be, when I am here with you?"

Those are also the days that Aizawa's Russian Blue will curl up on Yagi's side of the bed. He won't hear him leap up from the floor; the only indication will be the moment he hears the motor boat purring, and after a while, Po's round, smiling face appearing over Yagi's slender waist. Yagi laughs as he blinks slowly, rubbing his face into his side.

"Why doesn't he like me when I can play with him? I pick up all those toys and throw them around, and he stares at me like I am the biggest fool in the world."

Aizawa reaches out to scratch his chin, and Po lets him. Real explanations are out there, and he would never tell Yagi that some of the inflammation may be making him warm, and since he is barely moving, Po isn't on the defense from being anxious or smothered. He would never tell him how obvious it is that he is a dog person, and how much he desperately wants Po to act like a puppy, in the same way he desperately wanted Aizawa to act like a real boyfriend, like the detective he used to date. Aizawa learned over time how to show the affection and love that Yagi needs, even if he personally doesn't think that he is good at it.

What he says is, "He knows this is when you need him the most." And that is true.

In that following year, Aizawa takes more time away from the classroom. The students, hearing the stories of how he expelled so many, and how even the league of villains was no match for how strict and terrifying he could be...are surprised at how much softer he is. He's certainly strict, still, his tests hard and his no-nonsense attitude ever present, and he doesn't tolerate any nonsense, but also...

"I thought he was supposed to be scary."

"He is scary!"

"No more scary than teachers are supposed to be, though!"

There are more doctors appointments, too. Yagi's quirk had kept so many complications at bay before that now he goes in regularly to get checked out. Naturally, he's taken to the most prestigious hospitals, with security to keep out the paparazzi, but Aizawa still refuses to let him go alone. "I'm not going to let those vultures find out. They never know how to act when it comes to you."

"Or anyone," Yagi says softly, resting his head on his shoulder in the car while they wait for the shuttle with its dark windows to take them inside.

When they try to kick Aizawa out, he doesn't even give them the opportunity to make him feel like it's necessary. He's already in his sleeping bag, next to the bed, and Yagi just shrugs. What are you going to do?

On the way back, his arms sore from needle sticks and his head swimming with medicine, Yagi says, "We should go to that place with the breakfast food!"

"It's almost dinner time. We should go home and order something." Aizawa is notoriously paranoid that someone who is tenacious will follow them from the hospital and harass them in public.

Yagi hums, his forehead bumping the window as he stares at the trees passing above them. "Yes, but..." He trails off, picking a little at one of the paper tape bandages on his arm holding a cotton ball in his elbow. Aizawa gently guides his hand away until he's holding his.

"What?"

"You never eat breakfast in the morning," Yagi says, and it doesn't matter that it's probably the fatigue or the meds. It feels like he has never said anything so horribly sad, and Aizawa hates himself for this one thing.

The next morning, Aizawa goes about doing the hardest thing he has ever done, and it's not because it's a particularly terrible day (although the twenty-four hours after hospital tests are always rough for Yagi) but because he actually wakes himself up at an ungodly hour. His alarm goes off next to his ear, and he fires off his quirk before he can remember that the phone is a piece of technology, unaffected by his erasing powers. In fact, he swears that it beeps even louder to spite him.

"Shou...? Are you okay, darling?" Yagi's sleep-laden voice breaks, and the splinters hurt Aizawa's heart. The thought of him using that same fatigued tone again is encouragement enough to push him out the bed and out the door.

He sits up and leans over to kiss his forehead, the wrinkled flesh relaxing under his lips. "Keep resting. I just have an errand to run." He waits and listens for his (shallow, always so shallow) breaths to even out, so he knows that he won't get up and follow him.

The whole thing is nearly spoiled when Aizawa comes an inch close to putting his full weight on Po's tail. "MOW!" the cat curses, glaring up at him, promises of accidents conveniently next to but not inside the litter box exuding from his whiskers.

"Sorry, sorry. Just. Stay with him."

When he picks Po up and puts him on the bed, he can feel his own cat adding him to his feline shit list.

And Aizawa walks. He walks to the market, and it's so early that people are still unloading huge crates of vegetables and fruit, and the morning air is broken by the crinkling slide of ice being placed into even bigger crates, fish slapped down on top and staring at him. It smells different, being out of the only two places he knows at this hour when the sun is still hidden away over the horizon like Po's smiling face beneath the horizon of Yagi's form in his bed. He knows home. He knows Yuuei.

Nobody recognizes him, and he's not sure if he should attribute that to the low numbers or that they just don't care. They don't know him, and they don't plaster fake smiles on their faces for him. In fact, they look blissfully annoyed that he's standing there with his hands in his pockets waiting for them to finish, willing them to hurry so he can purchase fresh eggs still dirty with stray feathers, salmon and seaweed so wet it's like they were taken straight from the water to his hands, the most perfect apples he has ever seen (and he pays for that perfection), and rice. And, well, the rice is rice, but the satisfying heft to it, the way it's measured into a paper bag and added with everything... it's perfect.

Aizawa smiles, and he goes home, and he cooks.

He cooks everything. Everything he bought, and everything he didn't. He makes miso and tea and coffee that was a gift from America, from Dave (the one love of Yagi's he doesn't mind hearing about, that doesn't make him ache like his heart has a charlie horse). He cuts the apples into rabbits, then gives a few triangular smiles with his small knife so there are also All Mights in the mix, too. He makes the eggs every way he knows, and he even tries making thick, fluffy pancakes. They aren't great.

He's sliding his knife through the beautiful pink of the salmon when something butts against his shins, insistent and familiar. The moment he looks down, all slights from the early dawn are forgotten, and Po only has eyes for him. But if he's gotten out of the bedroom, then...

"Shouta?"

He turns, caught in the act. Yagi is holding the door frame, so shaky and uneasy that it's as though he could go at any minute, and even the fact that that thought cycles through Aizawa's brain makes him immediately go to him, holding him in his arms. "You should have stayed in bed. I would have come to you."

"Did you make all this for me?" Yagi asks. His tone is so reverent, so sweet, like Aizawa has brought the entire world to his kitchen, just for him.

"It's just breakfast."

The smile is dazzling and timeless. "Just breakfast, he says...Shouta." He's tenderly tapping his face with his finger, the world's most gentle admonishment.

"Come on already."

Yagi must be tired, must be so weak, because when Aizawa lifts him off the floor and carries him back to bed, he doesn't even startle. He just holds his sweater with a thin hand until he puts him back down, goes back to the kitchen, and loads a plate with a little bit of everything. There's a lap desk by the bed that Aizawa uses sometimes for grading papers, and it's the perfect banquet table for Yagi, quickly filled with the plate, a bowl of soup, coffee, tea, water...even the pills he takes every morning are in a tiny dish.

He eats it all.

He eats it and then more, and on the third helping, Aizawa puts a hand on his arm. "Toshi, I swear, if you're doing this to be nice..."

Aizawa is pulled in by that arm. There are hands on his face and the warmth coming from them soaks into him deeper than the stove he worked over to make the meal that is now disappearing. Yagi is kissing him, with such depth and love that maybe, just maybe, he's going to disappear too. Past those lips, into that mouth, and disappear into his heart.

For Yagi, he would give up everything. His whole existence.

Especially if it meant going out like this.

"I love you," Toshinori Yagi whispers against his lips. "I love you, and being here with you, and everything that you are."

Aizawa closes his eyes. He could shrug it off, if he wanted to. Tell him to stop being such an overbearing sap.

But he doesn't want to. He holds him too, kisses him back. He accepts his love like the gift it is, and he vows that he'll stop defending the existence of bad days.

[yfere]

Shipping Calculus! Live updates from C2E64

They say that fire exposes a person’s priorities, but we here at the lab believe that a gaggle of overly friendly moaning demons can also do the trick. Thank you to @softazelma, @fyeahthominho, and @alarnia for helping with data entry! Masterpost here.

+500 to The Mighty Nein/Totally Not Anachronisms. Beau invented the phrase “Don’t shoot the messenger,” and also ravioli, with her hidden chef talent. Caleb, having wheeled and dealed with the rich assholes of the Empire, naturally invented the game of golf during his year at the Academy. And Moro watched only half of the first season of Stranger Things. Don’t spoil her, okay?

+150 to Caleb/Astrid/Eodwulf “FOR FUTURE REFERENCE, JESTER, I’ll have you know that Eodwulf who I have never mentioned to you and who was not mentioned in the letter was buff and muscular and strong and so talented whoops that’s not even a physical description anymore but did I mention he was impressive? So if Marion Lavorre meets a black haired blue eyed incredibly eligible and attractive and gifted heartthrob of a man that’s the one you’re looking for BEWARE.” Okay, Caleb. Gone are the days of being content with all the love being directed at Astrid, I see. All right.

+0 to Jester/Beau Well, if an indirect kiss involves drinking from the same water glass, is it an indirect flirt if you both flirt with the same person? Moro became the unlikely receptacle of both these gal’s affections this episode, between Beau’s loud and enthusiastic appreciation of Moro’s criminal hustle, and Jester making sure Moro knows that Jester thinks she’s cute (and that she’ll kill her for lying to them). Beau as usual hyping up Jester’s awesomeness to everyone (in this case Caduceus) who will listen. Shockingly, this episode Beau seems to have acquired the ability to actually fool Jester into thinking she’s fine, which resulted in point loss and meant Caleb instead had to pick up the slack to gracefully get some help for the poor beat up monk. (For him, that’s +6 to Caleb/Faking Injury for Friendship)

-30 to Fjord/Shortcuts Just as when Captain of the Ball-Eater, Fjord is ALL ABOUT running into clear danger if it means shaving one or two days off of a trip. Into the eye of the storm! Into Ground Zero of the Calamity! We care for speed here, not safety!

+18 to Caleb/Jester and speaking of Caleb having a Thing for strong people, how he continues to single out Jester as the Strongest Woman, who even is Yasha, which creates a perfect combination of #ItPaysToBeADamselInDistress and #LovesToBeAKnightInShiningArmor between the two of them, as Caleb begs for assistance getting a horse on his moorbounder of COURSE Jester can do this alone, Jester squashing Caleb adorably and staying there for….a length of time while at Moro’s (I guess Caleb is the type to have people sit on his face huh), and Caleb very effectively pulling his “Oh no, I am so weak and delicate I must have a fainting couch to rest upon for a spell” to Jester’s delighted crowing over how weak he is. Caleb as usual thinking Jester’s out-of-the-box thinking with an aerial view is The Best Thing Ever. Jester wanting to get in on the Healing Caleb Action Caduceus has been hogging with a Cure Wounds, what do you mean Fjord is injured too? (#ItReallyDoesPayToBeADamselInDistress). Caleb’s Worrywarting directed at full strength at Marion Lavorre. +4 to Yasha/Cockblocking for Jester bringing Yasha in on the horse moving action. Point loss for Caleb’s Worrywarting creating Jester Worrying and making her lose sleep. Nein! Not okay!

+17 to Beau/Yasha because as we all know mutilating corpses with Beau is a sure way to her big gooey heart. Also, Beau adopting a Striking Pose after striking the enemy dead, and the Gay Power of that alone probably making Yasha’s rage drop, as she struggles to pick her jaw up off the floor and reorient towards combat.

-10 to The Mighty Nein/The Neighbors as they apparently carry a couplea severed heads in plain view all across town on their way to the Xhorhaus before storing them. According to the local Mighty Nein Neighborhood Watch, this is only the third or fourth weirdest thing they’ve done.

+24 to Caleb/Caduceus as Caduceus continues as always to think Caleb is the solution to all problems always with his cool magic and his alarms, though +5 to Cockblocking for both Jester and Beau who tragically remind him that there are other people out there who can also do things. The slip into nearly calling Caleb “Mr. Clay” instead of “Mr. Caleb” is of note, and someone needs to investigate what he’s been writing in those hearts in his journal pronto. Caduceus making Caleb his #1 priority in battle, #ItPaysToBeADamselInDistress, with his ray of enfeeblement, healing, attacks, and physically standing over the wizard in a defensive stance to protect him! Batting away attacking bats (while Caleb crawls around collecting guano!). Points taken away because poor Caduceus forgets for a moment that the next brightest thing after his own pink hair is Caleb’s. It’s still romantic if you’re saving people from trouble you sent their way, right? Right? Points gained for asking if Caleb is okay after the fight, and for them both being very dark, between advocating for decapitation and threatening Moro and her employee with decapitation, simmer down a second Caleb.

+10 to Caleb/Vulture Culture. Between Frumpkin’s new shape and getting Those Good Spell Components, our dear Caleb, covered once more in gore and shit and Death, is his happiest self. Hopefully he didn’t ruin his new fancy threads.

+2 to Beau/Hosting as Beau practices Manners and Decorum with a “no, sir” to the attacking demons (#CustomerService). Some mixed messages by following this up with pummeling them to death, but An Effort Was Made.

+4 to Caduceus/Nature as he found a new mushroom! Which will definitely not be a bad mushroom in any way.

+90 to Caleb/Cat-Shaped Creatures. There’s the usual spying Frumpkin rigmarole, but it says something about your love for cats when you’re willing to forgive, nay, even love, suspiciously dog-like behavior of gross licking for affection—so long as it’s coming from a cat. Caleb cleverly disposing of troublesome corpses and feeding his favorite members of the M9 at the same time. Caleb also adorably taking Jannick out for a little run on the Fields of Death, and all the Moorbounders coming in clutch as fighting machines (with some wonderful light-based assistance from Caleb, Support Catster Extraordinare), and somehow remaining unscathed during battle.

+45 to Fjord/Jester. Lips. Made. Contact. With. A. Cheek. That is very cheeky of you Fjord, if I do say so myself. Jessie is said, not once but twice, and Jester gets to be her true #LovesToBeAKnightInShiningArmor self as she saves Fjord repeatedly by murdering the demons attacking him, only getting slightly annoyed that he gets in trouble immediately after she saves him the first time. Seriously though, the amount of Goopy Feelings Jester has for saving this poor man….well, #ItPaysToBeADamselInDistress. Point loss for poor Jester failing to look as cool as the knights in the novels as she falls flat on her face with the handaxe strike, but she makes up for it by pounding the creature to death with her spiritual weapon instead, that was totally intentional. Point gains for Fjord being very Pleased with anything and everything Jester got up to, Jester pumping up Fjord’s accent and impersonation skills, contributing to Corpse Interrogation with her own Disguise Self, and the Excellence that was the fake Insta-Death spell the two of them threatened Moro with.

-8 to Nott/Yeza “Tell Veth I love her” does not make up for fucking ditching your husband without a word, Nott, you absolute asshole. Please talk to your spouse.

+13 to Caleb/Fjord/Jester In another great week for this triad, they all prove to be Excellent at Delivering Deceptive Threats, though Caleb is as per usual a little too serious about his contributions (though the other two are uh a bit more on the serious side as well this is a Bloodthirsty Throuple) The Epic Triangle Of Saving Each Other, as Jester rescues Fjord and Fjord hustles to rescue Caleb, followed by Jester’s healing action. Fjord taking joy in Jester falling on top of Caleb, and the both of them being very good about letting the Totally Actually Injured And Not At All Faking dramatic wizard take a short rest for Beau.

+1 to Fjord/Caleb. Most of their points this week were more applicable to Caleb/Fjord./Jester, but the instant “Moro, you got to die” when Caleb Can’t-Switch-Tasks Assassin Wizard suggests it is still very fun. Fjord sort of leaps to Caleb’s suggestions this episode, the ultimate yes-and-man.

+6 to Fjord/Detective Work as he steers the party clear of the Bad Tar Pits, they might have landed in quite a sticky situation otherwise

+20 to Critters/Detective Work, as the cast very loudly run through the Totally Natural Conclusion to the clues provided in the last ep, they Definitely Solved This Themselves, they had No Help From The Internet.

+14 to Fjord/Caduceus. Fjord offers to “loom” over Caduceus’ shoulder and points out that he looks “fleek” like damn, Caduceus, the boy is making an effort for you! As usual they are On The Same Wavelength and good cop/bad cop Moro and co. like pros, no discussion or even a conspiratorial glance required, they know what the jig is before anyone else. Fjord advocating for sending Moro money because that was Caduceus’ plan, no one is allowed to argue. Also being excellent interrogators of corpses together. Fjord is a huge fan of Caduceus’ magical food powers, #MagicalCrush, would “not turn down” Caduceus’ healing, and he kills some bats Cads was slapping around. Unfortunately without the bats Caduceus proceeds to slap a bunch of points out of the ship by saying he “doesn’t care.” That is cold.

+7 to Jester/Caduceus as they do a little awkward dance on the steps to make it around each other, and spending hours annoying everyone else in the party by talking about Cleric Things. Caduceus being impressed over Jester totally lying about being able to talk to dead horses, and Jester going wild over HOW COOL the Corpse Interrogation was. The Clerics Cuddling for comfort when the enemies first attack, since that was definitely what Jester and Caduceus were doing no questions here. Points taken away because Jester’s enthusiasm for Corpse Interrogation sort of glosses over how Caduceus “feels dirty” over the whole affair, they are apparently not too compatible in this area.

-5 to Nott/Yasha as Nott makes a sincere and successful effort to apologize to Yasha for sticking her like a pincushion and trying to be Nice and Supportive with memory games to help Yasha remember the “drow.” But points are drained away into the negatives as Nott goes a little too hard with the interrogation over Yasha having potentially killed people to make orphans (“that’s a cool name” and “Orphie” is terrible and does not make up for this nonsense), and Yasha’s well-received but still terrible allowance of Nott’s alcoholic predilections. They are a wonderful trainwreck to watch.

-20 to The Mighty Nein/Names. As of right now, there appears to be one (1) member of the Mighty Nein in Caduceus Clay who did not at some point either change their name or have some type of Name Angst over what someone else has named them. Though making faces at ‘Ducey might come to count for something, in time.

+11 to Nott/Jester Speaking of Disguise Self Shenanigans, how Nott is the Moro to Jester’s invisible bugbear, making them the logical pairing of the Corpse Interrogation Caper. Jester’s adorable confusion over her nickname being “Little Sapphire” which leads to Nott instantly screeching about how beautiful and perfect Jester is, that lovable dumbass. Nott using the word “shiny” to describe Jester, which seems technically a little odd but says loads about Nott’s affection for the gal, as this is the #1 lover of Shiny Valuable Things in the party speaking.

+8 to Jester/Yasha as Yasha in her sweet soft way also points out how Jester is very pretty and brings up Fluffernutter as a potential badass name that some of the people in her tribe might have been named for. Jester, for her part, directing Worrywarting in Yasha’s direction over how she was recognized and trying to give Yasha control over what they do next and what Yasha wants, though dear Yasha who cannot assert herself to save her life only manages to tentatively say she wants to know what’s going on before saying she’ll do whatever the group wants. (They! Want! What! You! Want! Yasha!)

-6 to Jester/Curtains, which surprisingly don’t taste as good to tieflings as they do to moths. Further experimentation required to determine how delicious they are to goblins, firbolgs, half orcs, aasimar and humans.

-101,019.01 to Critters/Child Poverty. TAKE THAT, CHILD POVERTY! This is how much was raised at the end of the stream, and a deserved kick in the face to all Child Poverty ships everywhere #AntiChildPoverty

[make-it-mavis]

Too Young to Notice, Too Dumb to Care (part 1)

WiR fic (main timeline, ~1984) 5643 words Characters: Turbo, Make-it Mavis, Pyro and Nitro (the Turbo Twins) Content warnings: N/A Premise: It’s 1984, and Mavis and Turbo are young, stupid, and inexperienced -- especially Mavis, who is still working hard to overcome her touch aversion. But there’s a sort of touch she has not attempted, one she barely even understands. When she asks Turbo about it, however, she finds that he’s not exactly an expert on it either. So, with all of two brain cells at their disposal, they tackle the question... What the hell is kissing??

______________________________________________________________

To any ignorant outsider, it would have seemed like Make-it Mavis and Turbo were friends. All the signs were there -- the way they joked and played, the way they spent more time together than apart, and the way their biting insults seemed to bite just a tad gentler when directed at each other. Many ignorant outsiders did, in fact, make note of their bond. The two sprites were hard enough to ignore on their own, but put together? Their supposed friendship was explosively loud. Over time, it rang out through the very boundaries of the arcade, until there was not a sprite alive who was not at least aware of the gossip they inspired.

Mavis herself was fully aware, too, of course. The arcade’s assumptions were frustrating to her, what with ‘friend’ carrying so many connotations. Connotations she did not sign up for. No, she and Turbo were not friends, and of this fact, she was quite certain. Turbo was a source of fun, one she had been fixated on for some time, but that was all he was. She liked him more than she liked anyone else. She made the decision to trust him with things no other sprite could be cut out for, even touching her, over time. But if things went south, if he became a drag, she would walk away guilt-free.

Friends did not have that kind of freedom.

Even still, even after over a year of knowing him closely and hanging out almost every night, Mavis was excited to spend the evening with Turbo. It had been another boring day of waiting out gameplay, and at last, it was time to go goof off and raise hell with the only other sprite in the arcade who seemed to know how to do it. She trotted casually down the gravely road flanked by trees, absolutely soaked in the relentless Turbo Time sunshine. Every few steps, she took a carefree leap and sailed smoothly through the air on her feathered feet. The boys’ sort of trailer park would be just down the way, but before she quite made it there, she spied a figure up ahead, clad in blue, with an arm around another humanoid sprite. 

Had to have been one of the twins, and… somebody.

Knowing Turbo’s brother would not be pleased to see her, and delighting in that fact, Mavis let out a sharp whistle. The two stopped and turned back to look at her as she flew in for a closer look. The guest looked like he must have been from Front Line, with the camo and dog tags and muscles. His cropped black hair was oily, his skin was dirty, and he smelled awful.

The twin just looked like a twin. Mavis was not sure why she expected to recognize him if she got closer.

“Hi cat,” she said anyway, “what’s this you’re draggin’ in?”

“Hey,” the twin said sharply. “That’s my guest you’re talkin’ about. Watch it.”

“Hi Mavis,” the guest said plainly, as if he had been expecting her to be trouble, and accepted it.

“Hiya,” she nodded. Of course the guy knew who she was. She was only the most notorious trickster in the arcade. This particular guest, however… not important enough for Mavis to remember, anyway.

“My name’s McKenzie,” he said, sending that name through Mavis’ ear and out the other. “If you care to know.”

“I don’t, really,” she shrugged. “But now that I’m here, I’m hopin’ Blueballs here brought you in to hose you down like a dog, ‘cause you sure smell like one.”

The twin actually smirked at that, and nudged his hip against McKenzie’s. “Y’really could use a shower.”

“Oh, really, now?” His guest replied, giving the twin a look that Mavis did not quite understand, but still found repulsive.

“O-kay,” she said loudly, “well, it’s been fun. Always quality conversation with you, Pluto.”

“Pyro,” the twin corrected her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she whined dismissively, twirling off into the air, electing to fly directly to the trailer park. It was a short flight, barely a few seconds at her speed, before she came upon the rough-looking, rectangular mobile homes, arranged in a modestly spaced triangle. Mavis knew all three racers wished they could separate their living spaces even farther, but ironically enough, there was nowhere else in the game to move their movable homes to. Not off-screen anyway, and they could not very well air out their wet laundry right where the gamers could see.

She landed and approached Turbo’s trailer -- perhaps the dirtiest of the three, with discarded bottles and cigarette butts littering the sparse grass. She could even smell a fresh cigarette, but following her nose over her shoulder, she found that it was the other twin leaning out of his window and calmly smoking. By process of elimination, that one was Nitro.

Mavis tipped up her chin at him, and he just exhaled a smoky plume in reply, serving her a look of casual distaste. It was on the friendlier end of their spectrum of interaction.

Wasting no more time, she turned back around and knocked hard on Turbo’s door in a musical rhythm. 

“Who is it?” Turbo’s gruff voice called.

“It’s Litwak,” Mavis replied impatiently. “Better clear outta here before I unplug your game.”

“As if you could live without me, old man,” she heard him say, among footsteps and keys jangling. Promptly, the door opened, and there was the demon boy himself, clad in the usual white-and-red jumpsuit zipped down and tied at his hips. His overgrown mullet was as fluffy as ever, but Mavis smiled a bit at the thought of the flat dome of helmet hair she knew it had been right after quitting time. He must have spent the whole time since then fixing it.

“What’s that look?” he asked casually as he turned to close the door and lock it.

“Hm?”

“You’re givin’ me a look.”

“Am not,” she said.

“I’m gettin’ real good at readin’ your nasty lil’ mind, Make-it,” he said as he stepped off the tiny stairs to his door and turned to head towards the gravel path back to Game Central. “And y’know what your face is sayin’ to me, right now? It’s sayin’-- Oh, gag me with a spoon.”

“Wow. Not even close.”

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “Pyro’s brought a friend home.”

Sure enough, Pyro and McWhatever had arrived on the scene, and the twin was unlocking his door with a self-satisfied smile. Mavis got the distinct impression that he knew Turbo was hating what he saw, and relishing it.

“Yeah, so?” she asked Turbo, a bit perplexed.

“So, let’s get outta here before they get a chance to get into it,” he said, taking off with a swift pace. Mavis hovered along next to him.

“Get into what?”

As the two of them passed his trailer, Pyro called out with devilish glee, “Seeya in the mornin’, little brother!”

Without looking, Turbo called back coldly, “Yeah-huh. Have fun swappin’ your spit for the hundredth time this week.”

“‘Least I’m gettin’ any!”

“‘Least I ain't a sleazebag!”

The exchange seemed to be over as she and Turbo put more distance between themselves and the trailer park, but Mavis was confused to the point of irritation. No one seemed to be saying what they meant, at least not to her ears. Like it was all some kind of code that she had not been taught. Some weird brother-code.

“What’s swappin’ spit?” she demanded, craning over Turbo’s head like a vulture as he walked.

“Nothing,” he grumbled dismissively, fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and patting for a lighter.

“What’s Pyro getting?!” she asked more sharply.

“Nothing-- who cares, okay? I don’t wanna think about what my brother’s gettin’. Let’s just forget it and cut right to the hell-raising, aye?”

Mavis did not like giving up, but she did not want Turbo to be in a bad mood for what was supposed to be a fun night. He could get so annoying when he was grumpy. But she would find out the truth later, that much she decided right then and there.

Turbo lit up a cigarette, and the two left the subject behind entirely.

The rest of the evening carried on in the usual sort of erratic way, with the pair doing whatever happened to come into their heads with no regard for others. Some time was spent in Frogger, setting fire to items pulled from Mavis’ hoard, and watching the flames float down the river like funeral pyres. Another little while was spent in Ghosts ‘n Goblins causing general unrest, finding particular joy in knocking on gravestones and hiding while the confused rotting dead rose to find no one there. When a group of angry ghosts chased them out, Mavis and Turbo found themselves hungry, and swung by Burger Time to pick up some take out to bring into Rampage.

Rampage was a favorite of Mavis’, even just to relax in. It was neither dark nor bright, neither day or night, with the sky a vibrant but deep blue just dark enough to paint the tall figures of distant buildings in shadow. It was also both loud and quiet, with tanks below, helicopters above, and three beastly titans, well, rampaging freely through the fully destructible city, but a big enough map that there was always somewhere far enough to sit out of the proper cacophony. 

It was in one of those far reaches that Mavis and Turbo found themselves around 3 AM, perched at the very top of a building with their feet hanging off the edge. They ate their food and chatted, casually watching a huge ape and werewolf roughhouse some ways away, deeper into the city. 

“See, why can’t my game be this cool?” Mavis complained through a mouthful of burger. “It’s the same basic idea. Big gorilla wrecks buildings ‘n crap.”

Turbo snorted. “Your gorilla just ain’t big enough.”

“And we only got one building,” she grumbled. “And, hey, that werewolf out there? His name is Ralph.”

“What? No way,” Turbo disputed with a smile, “What kinda name is that for a big, badass werewolf?”

Mavis shrugged, smiling back, “Ask the Devs. I guess he wasn’t always a werewolf. That’s how werewolves work, right? He was just some guy named Ralph. Lucky him, now he’s interesting. My game would be way more interesting if our Ralph got turned into a werewolf. But fat chance of that ever happening.”

“Y’know what,” he said matter-of-factly as he popped a fry in his mouth, “the Ralphs should switch places for a day.”

Mavis half-guffawed.

Turbo continued, “Yeah, I mean, big Ralph would be real good at little Ralph’s job. He’d probably decimate Niceland with a single kick.”

“Take more than a few whacks from a hammer to fix that,” Mavis commented.

“We’d call it ‘hard mode.’ It’d be a hit.”

Mavis looked around, considering her surroundings. “Y’know, the gamers do the wrecking in this one, right? So Ralph would be the Good Guy here. I wonder how he’d feel about that. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a stick in the mud anymore.”

“Daresay that Fix-it would have less time to bug you with an entire city to fix,” Turbo pointed out. “Though he’d have to be the Bad Guy, ‘n man, there ain’t a bad bone in that choir boy’s body.”

“Hell, give him a shot,” Mavis shrugged dramatically. “Not like he’s all that good at bein’ a Good Guy either.”

Turbo chuckled a bit, but otherwise fell silent, and she did as well. Then the silence became awkward. Mavis chastised herself quietly for letting any bit of her emotional baggage with her cousin slip into her tone. Turbo knew how she felt. He even knew why she felt that way, what had happened, what Fix-it had done. And, blessedly, he was on her side for all of it. But, still, it was an emotional subject to just throw into casual conversation, and Mavis knew it. She was still getting used to having another sprite in the know on her… family issues.

Topic change. Topic change. Topic change.

Bingo.

“Ready to tell me why Pyro havin’ friends is so horrifying?” she asked suddenly.

Turbo sighed gruffly, smacking his tongue. “They’re not his friends, okay, that’s just-- y’know-- and it ain’t horrifyin’, it’s just gross. Nasty. I don’t need to know every time my brother makes out with someone. I don’t need that image.”

“Uh huh,” she tapped her heel back against the brick wall below, “and ‘makes out’ means…?”

Turbo paused before giving her a very peculiar look, as if she were the one not making sense. “Are you asking me what ‘making out’ is?”

“Yes,” she snapped a bit. “I’m asking you what ‘making out’ is. Will ya just tell me?”

“Well, it’s--” he shrugged sharply, shaking his head. “I mean-- it’s kissing and junk. How could you not know that?”

Mavis paused. “...Kissing?”

“Don’t tell me y’don’t know what that is.”

“I know what kissing is, ya dick. I just mean… kissing? Really? Like-- well, on the mouth, right?”

“Obviously. Where else?” Turbo regretted asking, by the look on his face. He grimaced at whatever thought just came up.

“Oh,” Mavis lifted her finger, “oh. Oh, okay. Yeah. They’re not his friends. They’re his boyfriends.”

Turbo groaned a bit. “Not exactly.”

“But… kissing’s all romantic-whatever, right? Only sprites who are in love kiss on the mouth.”

At that, Turbo outright cackled. It startled Mavis so bad, she quite nearly fell off the ledge. Turbo set his food down behind him and stood, waving her off as he walked to the middle of the roof and laughed it out. Mavis felt her face heating up, just knowing she had said something stupid and now had to somehow recover from it. She stood as well, crossing over to the chortling demon boy. 

“If you’re gonna laugh in my face, at least say why before you saunter off,” she told him, annoyed.

“Look, dollface, if you hit me with another joke like that, I was gonna go tumbling right down to my death, arright?” he told her, straightening up and grinning. “I mean-- I mean, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

She hesitated. “No.”

“Oh, oh my Devs.”

“I said ‘no!’”

“Okay, okay,” Turbo said, placing steady hands on her shoulders, but still sporting that delighted smile. He touched his chest, “I ain’t being fair, okay? I’ll admit that. ‘Cause I’m gonna take a wild leap ‘n say all the education you’ve had on the subject has been what your cousin’s told ya.”

“Well--” she frowned. “Ugh. Yeah. But why would he lie to me about-- about kissing rules, or--?”

“Dunno if ‘lie’ is the right word. It’s probably what he personally believes, babe,” he nodded. “The guy’s about as traditional as they come. He probably told ya that because he wants you to be just as traditional as he is. And to keep ya from kissin’ anybody. To protect you from sprites like-- Well, like my brother.”

Mavis backed off from him, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need protection--” she paused. “Wait, like your brother? What’s he doin’, exactly?”

“Mmm,” Turbo put his hands on his hips. “How can I put this? All the boys-- and sometimes girls-- that Pyro brings home? Not boyfriends, not girlfriends. Just conquests. Pyro goes for numbers. And-- well, he doesn’t care about any of ‘em. Not even to the point of bein’ decent. He can get pretty manipulative about it, s’far as I’ve heard. And no matter what, after he’s had his fill a’ makin’ out, he gives ‘em the boot. Seen a fair share of cryin’ sprites leavin’ the game before.”

“Wow…”

Mavis considered all that. Suddenly, Turbo’s disgust made more sense. That really was a reprehensible way to treat other sprites, and that was saying a lot, coming from her. A strange thought crept into her head, one that questioned whether the way she used sprites for fun while refusing friendship was any similar to what Pyro did. Whether it was any similar to what she was doing to Turbo. Was she manipulating him without even realizing?

No. No, it was different. It had to be. Mavis only ever protected herself. Pyro was taking whatever he wanted. She would never do what he did.

A humorless half-smirk appeared on Mavis’ face. “So Fix-it’s afraid I’ll fall victim to some kinda romantic manipulation, then? Doesn’t he know I’ve got a cold, spiky heart?”

“He must,” Turbo shrugged, “if he wanted you to think that makin’ out is just a lovers’ thing. If you believe that, you’ll never so much as kiss anybody, and he’s never gotta picture his sweet baby cousin doin’ grown-up touching.”

Mavis twitched. She could feel her hard-wired defiant nature bristling up. “That’s it, isn’t it? He thinks I'm his responsibility. Like I can't make good choices for-- for my touch life.”

Turbo scoffed. “‘Touch life?’ Y'really wanna go with that?"

"What else should I call it?"

"I'unno Mav, don'tcha think that's a bit generous for the amount a touchin’ you do? I mean, I'm flattered that bein' able to touch me is worth a whole life to ya--"

“Hey,” Mavis growled, pointing, “hey, are you kiddin’ me right now?”

“Okay, okay,” Turbo sighed and put his hands up, “don’t make a thing of it.”

Mavis fumed, stomping over to him as she rolled up her sleeves. There was the slightest twinge of confusion and alarm in Turbo’s eyes, almost as if he expected her to take a swing at him, but she only seized his arm. With a harsh yank, she pulled him closer, and she rubbed the bare skin of her forearm against his. She could feel her code prickling a bit under her skin, but she had worked so hard to become accustomed to the feeling, it barely mattered anymore.

“See that?" she said firmly, “You've seen what'd happen if I tried this six months ago. This here's a big deal. Don't make fun of it, dickweed."

“Yeah, I know-- I take your point,” Turbo said through a rueful smile, pulling his arm away. “Sheesh, I was just buggin’ you.”

“You’re good at that.”

“I’m good at everything,” he rolled his eyes, “and you’re pretty good at being touched now, okay? And I’m sure that if you keep workin’ on it, one day you’ll even be able to handle kissing somebody, or makin’ out, or whatever sorta things would horrify your cousin. I’m sure that’ll be good motivation for you.”

“Y’don’t think I could handle it right now?” Mavis asked, brow cocked.

Turbo gave a short laugh. “Uh, yeah. It’s a bit different from rubbin’ arms.”

Mavis’ eyes narrowed. A challenge was standing directly in front of her, and that defiant instinct of hers grabbed onto it with both hands. He would be proven wrong. He would be proven so wrong.

“Show me.”

Still smiling, Turbo blinked and paused. “What?”

“Kiss me,” she said boldly, stepping closer. “I dare you.”

While Turbo’s smile did not disappear, it shifted into a more nervous shade. His eyes darted around just once, looking for an audience that was not there. “Right now?” he asked, his voice high.

“Right now,” Mavis agreed, straightening up and grinning. “Kiss me right here. Prove to me that I can’t handle it.”

“Well…” he breathed, pausing for a while to stare at her. “Alright, then, weirdo. I’ll give ya one freebie. Hope y’know how lucky you are.”

“Shut up and make with the kiss.”

A bit of an indignant scoff rolled from Turbo’s throat and out of his nose, but he obliged her request. That is, he began to oblige her request. Slowly, he began to bring his face closer, pausing and letting his eyes fall to her mouth, as if making sure he was still on course. Mavis merely watched, intrigued and perplexed by his process. Once he was close enough for her to practically taste the salt on his lips, he cleared his throat.

“What?” Mavis asked plainly.

Meeting her stare point-blank, he mumbled, “You’re supposed to close your eyes.”

“Oh,” Mavis promptly closed her eyes. It seemed strange to her, but it was all strange to her. She had figured Turbo would have been done already, but it was almost like he had stage fright, what with how slow he took it and how he did not want her to watch. But it was just a kiss, something that took literally no skill. No one could be bad at kissing.

Or so she believed, right up until something warm and slimy dragged across her mouth. 

“What th--”

Tearing her head away from the tentacle onslaught that just assaulted her lips, she spat and sputtered, shoving Turbo back and stumbling in a direction steered only by her disgust. She wiped aggressively at her mouth, smearing off a horrifying amount of saliva. “What-- pfft-- the hell-- pbbt-- was that?!”

“A kiss, dumbass! Or it would’ve been if y’didn’t bail half a second in! But I told ya! Didn’t I tell ya?! You’re not up to it!”

He was offended. He was very deeply offended. 

“That,” she said, finally turning to face him again, “was not a kiss! You licked my mouth! Who have you been makin’ out with, the Duck Hunt dog?!”

Indignantly, he said, “I ain’t been makin’ out with anybody.”

Despite his obvious lack of experience, Mavis still found that surprising, if only because she had not thought to question it before. “Why not? You’re one of them touchy-types.”

“Yeah, don’t call me that,” he said flatly. “Just ‘cause I can stand bein’ touched doesn’t mean I want everyone to touch me. This here--” he gestured a circle around his face, “--this ain’t free parking. I ain’t my sleaze-bag of a brother.”

“So,” Mavis lowered her volume just a bit, “y’don’t wanna be kissed, then? Y’could’a just said no when I asked.”

The demon boy blew through his lips and turned his gaze out to the city, running a rough hand through his messy hair. “No, it’s whatever. It’s kinda different with you.”

At that, Mavis’ heart hit an unsteady beat, and she felt a bit of warmth rush to her face, but not in the most pleasant way. She was almost afraid that she had steered her dynamic with Turbo in the wrong direction, and that she would have to bail for good at any second.

“Wh-What’s that mean?” she stammered a bit.

He seemed to pick up on her vibe. “Well, I know you, is what I mean. You ain’t some rando. Doesn’t hurt that you’re a cute girl.”

His physical attraction to her was never really a secret, and for that reason, it did not bother her for him to say that. Mavis may not have entirely understood what physical attraction entailed as far as one’s feelings towards the object of attraction went, but so far, it had not gotten in the way of them having fun together. So, she figured there was no sense worrying about it.

“That’s fair,” she nodded.

“And, y’know, whatever. It’s just for getting over your no-touchiness. It’s not even real.”

Mavis pondered that, tapping her hip lightly. “Yeah,” she agreed, “exactly. We don’t even gotta think of it like our first times… y’know, respectively. It’s just a practice run.”

“Well, whatever y’call it, y’better be grateful,” Turbo looked at his nails, “‘cause I got droves of adorin’ fans who’d kill to have a practice round with me.”

Mavis scoffed wetly. “After what you just did to me? No, they really wouldn’t.”

“Look,” he rolled his eyes, throwing a hand up,“there’s tongue in kissing! That’s a real thing!”

“Wh-- No, there’s not! What the hell do you think kissing is?!”

Turbo paused, suddenly squinting at her. Suspiciously, he said, “What do you think kissing is?”

Mavis swallowed, but quickly strode over. “I can’t believe I have to show you this,” she said, before leaning in… and craning her head around to plant a quick, sheepish kiss on his cheek, immediately chastising herself for avoiding his mouth. Once she pulled back, she could not quite pinpoint the emotion on Turbo’s face. He was just stunned.

“Did… I just blow your mind, or…?” she mumbled.

“That-- That wasn’t--” he pointed to his mouth, “we’re talkin’ about this kinda kiss.”

“‘Kay, well, excuse me for bein’ cautious a’ you trying to swallow my entire head again,” she said begrudgingly, “but, fine.”

Quick as a mouse, she took the very same kiss and planted it right on his lips before pulling away. It did not feel all that different to her, she noted thankfully. His lips were just a bit softer than his cheek, but that felt like an inconsequential thing to notice. 

All the same, she noticed it.

“There,” she said. “See? I told you I could do it.”

Turbo closed his eyes and took a moment to scratch the back of his neck. “...Yeah, see,” he groaned a bit, “that’s not… at all… what I’ve been talkin’ about. Ain’t you ever seen anyone kiss on the lips?”

“I don’t exactly go lookin’ for couples-- or whatever-- to watch ‘em kiss, Turbo.” Mavis could feel herself about to regret her words, “I see cheek kissin’ all the time, and how much different can it be on the mouth?”

Turbo just stared at her, this disbelieving humor sitting behind his eyes. “You’re precious, y’know that? You’re just a peach.”

“Am not,” she huffed. “Don’t say that. It’s weird.”

“You’re a grown-ass woman and still somehow think that a kiss on the lips lasts about point-five seconds. That’s adorable. So unlike a trash-eatin’ gremlin to be so innocent.”

“Oh, I’ll show you innocent,” Mavis growled, stepping right into his space again, practically nose-to-nose. “I’m gonna get this right, and it’s gonna rock your world, hotshot, no matter how long it takes.”

Turbo only had time to load a chuckle in his mouth before Mavis’ lips snuffed it out. This time, she would do better. Maybe not quite right, but better. If time was the issue, she would keep her lips against his just as long as it took for him to stop laughing at her. It was easy enough -- she merely replicated her small peck from before, but held it there, motionless, waiting.

It did not take long for Turbo to make a small, uncertain grunt in his throat.

“Don’t lick me,” she told him, muffled against his lips.

“I’m not gonna lick you,” he said right back. 

“Am I doin’ this right, yet?”

“Does it feel right to you?”

“How’s it supposed to feel?”

He shrugged. “Awesome?”

Mavis took the time to consider that before answering. She counted the things she felt physically. From the neck down, she felt completely normal, but her face… was full of Turbo. He was just right there, literally face-to-face, right against her mouth. She could smell the burger grease left over, and even with her lips closed, she could sort of taste it, which, while it was not a bad taste, felt weird to get second-hand… or second-mouth. The breath from his nose was leaving a sort of wetness against her cheek. Her pursed lips were kind of falling asleep. It was weird. All of it was weird.

But did she feel awesome emotionally? ...No. No, she just felt frustrated.

At last, she pulled away, avoiding his gaze to glare at his collar. “Not awesome,” she grumbled.

“Ee-yeah, didn’t think so,” Turbo muttered.

“I don’t get it,” she said, meeting his eyes again. “How’s kissing supposed to be so great that sprites wanna do it all the time, just for fun?”

“Well,” he half-laughed, “they don’t do it like that, that’s for sure. Supposedly, it is pretty damn awesome if you do it right.”

“But--” 

Mavis was quickly cut off as the deafening thudding of helicopter blades drew near. Turbo stepped away, attempting to hold his hair out of his suddenly outraged face, but Mavis just let hers whip around wildly. From the direction of the city proper, one of the game’s helicopters had hovered over. Its pilot did not seem too alarmed by them, given its lazy speed, but it was always in the best interest of game characters to keep an eye on her and Turbo. Mavis supposed they were just checking in to make sure no bombs were being made or anything -- something Mavis suddenly wished they had been doing instead of fruitlessly trying to kiss. Bombs would have been way more fun.

After Turbo put an arm out by his side, giving the pilot a silent gesture of, “What,” they seemed to decide all was well, and the aircraft carried on its way, flying back to the city to monitor the beasts.

“Can’t a gal just sit on a roof eatin’ burgers anymore?” Mavis asked no one in particular.

Turbo was growling, too busy trying to put his hair back in the very specific mess he liked to answer her. “Stupid-- freakin’-- helicopters-- freakin’ bird-brain piece a’ scrap metal--”

Mavis’ heart jumped as another roaring sound rudely interrupted them, only this time, it was an actual roar. It came right from the center of the city, right where the rampaging monsters had been playing around. Gazing out, Mavis could see that both creatures were looking right at her, even waving. She grinned a bit. Just like with any other sprite, Mavis did not really consider the monsters from Rampage her friends, per se, but they sure were a lot of fun to play around with. The big, lumbering oafs loved to chase her around and try to knock her out of the air -- something they tried to do gently, but still ended up sending Mavis back to Fix-it with her share of broken bones on more than one occasion. But that was just how Mavis liked her fun.

She withdrew her brush, painted feathers on her heels, and rose a bit into the air to wave back at them. With another flick of her brush, she painted a megaphone and called out to them, “HI, YA BIG UGLY BEASTIES! WHAT’S UP?!”

From below, Turbo groaned loudly, and she looked down to see him covering his ears and glaring sharply. “Really?” he hissed.

George, the gorilla, hooted and bellowed again. He and big Ralph were making beckoning arm motions, even picking up chunks of debris and swinging them around in a playful display. Mavis’ sense of fun perked up like a pair of ears.

“DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE,” she shouted with a grin. 

Big Ralph let out a howl that ripped through the atmosphere like it was nothing at all. The boys were so nonsensically loud, and she loved it.

“OH, WHAT,” she called, “YA THINK Y’CAN CATCH ME THIS TIME?!”

At that, Turbo cleared his throat in protest. Looking down, she found him folding his arms and tapping his foot, clearly displeased with her. The megaphone in her hand despawned, and she lowered back to the roof to face Turbo.

“Hi,” she said, just prompting him to be out with it.

“You’re gonna just ditch me for those guys?” he hissed. 

Mavis sighed. Whether she was actually too flippant or Turbo was too sensitive, she was not sure, but it was not the first time he got snippy over her hanging out with other sprites. It was not as if she was actually abandoning him -- she was just naturally wired to go where the fun was. He would have to understand that, she thought, if he ever wanted to really understand her.

But, then again, she still could not have been sure just what level of understanding she wanted between her and her… frequent playmate.

“I’m not ditching you,” she groaned. “Look, I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here ‘n finish your food. I’ll just goof off with these guys for a couple games of tag, or something.”

Turbo scoffed. “Thanks. It’s real cozy here on the backburner.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, okay,” she snapped. “I gotta go shake off how weird it was tryin’ to lock lips with you.”

He was quiet for just a moment, holding her in a narrow-eyed glare.

“Fine. Whatever,” he threw an arm up a bit. “Go pretend like you didn’t love it. I’ll just sit back here ‘n quietly eat all your fries.”

As she rose back into the air, she pointed at him and warned, “I’ll cut you open ‘n eat ‘em outta your guts if ya so much as think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off, dismissing her completely as he walked back to the ledge of the building where their food sat. She waited only a few seconds before whistling through the air, quickly passing over broken buildings that reached up like outstretched arms. There was an itch in the back of her neck, a sort of fix for fun that needed to be sated after all that awkwardness. What she said was true -- she did have to break out of the frustrated funk that all the failed kissing had put her in.

Strangely, though, she sort of wished that she had been less of a jerk about it.

Because despite the awkwardness, she really did want to figure out how to get it just right. If other sprites could kiss and find a way to enjoy it, then she could, too. And Turbo? Maybe he deserved a bit more credit for helping her. Devs knew there was no one else in the arcade she could try it with. No one else she would have wanted to.

But that still did not mean they were friends. So long as she did not say so.

[bugcthulhu]

Spanish/Iberian mythological creatures: So Many Goblins edition

Marraco: Wingless dragon with a very wide mouth and stomach. While said to swallow people whole, it is also treated as a spiritual guardian

Ayalga: Nymphs that guard vast treasures in caves or palaces, alongside dragons. Some were cursed into the role, but many just do it from the get-go. Only go outside during a single night of every year, and may offer some of their riches to the men that seek them out if they follow certain rituals. A dragon whose Ayalga has abandoned them for good succumbs to despair and abandons the land.

Crespell: Cave-dwelling, child-eating monsters covered in warts that spew flames from their eyes. Always appear in groups of seven: six tiny ones and one gigantic.

Ollaparo: A man-eating cyclops with an additional eye on the back of its head

Xacio: Amphibious beings that live at the bottom of rivers. Usually presented as merfolk, but sometimes they have the lower bodies of lizards.

Carmenco: A creature covered in woolly black hair that prowls the mountains. Settles in abandoned houses and prevents them from falling to disrepair, but spotting one brings years of bad luck. Can be driven away by throwing stones at the house its chosen.

Nonell: Horse-sized dog of dense, flowing white fur and black eyes. Its arrival precedes the fall of snow in mountain areas.

Cucala: Black birds that dislike being seen and emerge in droves during the darkest nights. Extremely dangerous, and really noisy

Sacauntos: “Grease puller” A bogeyman that carves children open to remove and devour their body fat. Carries its bounty around in a sack

Maruga: Tiny critters that swim in rivers and ponds. Their bite makes women pregnant, but what they are pregnant with is not specified.

Lambiron: Demonic being with the power to poison sources of water, make fields go dry and ruin crops

Mouro: Dark-skinned, really tall humanoids (sometimes flat out giants) that live underground. Extremely skilled in mining and metallurgy, to the point everything they own is made of gold, and are immensely rich. Often made deals with humans with gold as payment, but humans had to never reveal the source of said gold, or else it would turn to coal….or the Mouros would kill them straight away. Said to love wine, and have outstandingly beautiful women

 (The Mouros are a really tricky one because their name sounds almost exactly like Moro, which is the word for the ancient muslim invaders of Spain, and a modern-day derogative slang to refer to muslims. Coupled with everything else about them… yeah)

 Serpe: Very much like the Cuelebre in that they’re giant snakes with bat wings and extraordinarily hard scales, usually guarding the treasures left behind by the Mouros. Other times they’re women cursed into the form of huge white snakes, waiting for someone to break their curse

 Zarronco: A child-eater that usually takes the form of a huge insect

 Bloody Pirico: Bogeyman that resembles a bloody, skinless humanoid. Steals lost children.

 Half-Face: Another child-eater, appears as a figure with a single arm, a single leg and a single eye, like a body that’s been bisected.

 Malismo: The Spanish answer to norse trolls, a drooling, excessively hairy, stinking, hideous and malicious monster that dies when exposed to sunlight. Though said to be on the small side, they are noted as extremely dangerous due to their knowledge of sorcery

 Trasgo: The quintessential Spanish goblin, usually depicted with a hole in the palm of each hand. Though not evil, it is an obnoxious prankster that loves playing tricks on the people it shares a house with. May sometimes take a shine to said families, which means it’ll follow them wherever they go. Extremely hard to get rid of

 Trasno: Similar to the trasgo in many aspects, the trasno is also said to assault people in forests, and stalk travellers to bring misfortune upon them

 Martinico: Benevolent and helpful goblin, though terrifying if upset. Has the ability to shapeshift into animals

 Tardo: Unlike its brethren, a genuinely evil goblin with green skin and sharp teeth, usually carrying a small sword. Causes nightmares

 Quarantamaula: Half-man, half-chicken, half-vulture. Jumps from roof to roof to make noise and scare children.

 Cerdet: Snaggle-toothed hairy pig that spooks travellers at night, loves riding horses

 Goncho: A beautiful male giant that takes wives away from their husbands, appearing only when said wives want him to do so

 Maragassa: Female figure that causes anguish and grief on women.

 Pardalot: Bird that feeds its chicks with human children and enjoys the warmth of fire and smoke, entering houses through the chimney

 Man of the Noses: Self-explanatory, a man possessing as many noses on his body as days there are in a year. Benevolent, but in some areas it is treated as a bogeyman that can be bribed away with money.

 Aneto: A giant that refused to help Jesus when he arrived exhausted and hungry to his domain, was punished by being transformed into a mountain. Only recovers his conscience on stormy days, and all he does is wail about his fate.

Meiga Xuxona: Blood-sucking witch that takes the form of a bumblebee.

 Falugue: Tiny being similar to the Nyitus that enters the bodies of humans and devours the inner ear, rendering them deaf

 Avelainya: Spectral butterfly that can be black or white depending on whether it brings good or bad omens. Might be related to Cuques, glowing worms that appear at night and are likened to the souls of the dead

 Famelier: A goblin with a huge head and mouth, and a terrible voice, born from containing a certain kind of ephemeral grass inside a black bottle. Constantly asks for either food or work, will indulge the former if not given the latter.

 Boet: Another servile entity, except this one will go out of its way to NOT do any tasks after begging its master for some.

 Freba: Small, shiny fairy that uses crickets and/or legless lizards as steeds. So beautiful anyone who spots one falls into lovesick melancholy

 Joanet: Luminous goblins that can be summoned to find hidden treasure

 Barruget: Goblins of elongated heads and immense strength that usually live deep in wells, but might emerge in groups on days of bad weather to play in the raging waves. A prankster that can be placated by offering it bread with cheese.

 Martinet: Born from mushrooms, extremely fast, easy to anger, and outrageously powerful, capable of changing the course of rivers or altering mountains. Is repelled by snake drool

  Negret: Black goblin that turns into a pile of coins if someone touches it while holding a candle

 Telles-Melles: Invisible goblin that watches over children and plays with them.

 Follet: Sometimes said to be a goblin, sometimes just said to be a special gift. Either way it is tied to an individual person and grants them powers.

 Rotlla/Rotlan/Errolan: A version of the fictional Sir Roland, wielder of Durendal, in which he is an heroic giant. Rode an equally gigantic one-eyed horse that could chew through mountains.

 Pesanta: Sometimes a huge dog, sometimes a huge cat, both with legs made of iron. Enters houses from under doors or through walls and sits on people as they sleep, giving them nightmares and great pain

 Pupieirinya: Forest fairies that love bread crumbs, very quick and very silent. Can hear the voices of children that are too young to speak, and bring them gifts.

 Lavandeira: Old woman that sits by rivers washing clothes and calls for passersby to help. Ignoring her pleas or folding the clothes in the same way she does nets you extreme bad luck, if not guaranteed death.

 Canouro: Vaguely defined evil entity associated with water. Fond of mortally wounding children on the arms of their parents

Butoni: Hairy bogeyman with claws, horns and two faces that enters houses through keyholes

Aideko: Wind spirit said to be responsible for every disease and disgrace that cannot be explained by conventional means. An even more malevolent variant, the Aidegatxo, also controls storms. Can only be driven off through magic.

 Es Vedra Giant: Sea-dwelling. Hunger for human flesh only surpassed by his love of octopi. Will eat until it can’t move anymore

 Saint Llorenc’s Dragon:  Brought to the land by foreign invaders, originally very small but grew to monstrous proportions by devouring everything in its path, and soon claimed an entire mountain. Survived what should’ve been a fatal sword strike, forcing its slayer to call upon divine intervention to finally smite it down

 Altzuruku Dragon: Enormous and fierce. A knight called SIR GASTON fought it to a stalemate for weeks, some say months, and finally had to resort to feeding it an ox skin filled with gunpowder to do the trick, blowing its head off.

 Espillet’s Dragon: Considered one of the dracs, of deadly all-rotting stench. Terrorized the city of Valencia until a man called Espillet slayed it in return for avoiding life-long prison and reuniting with his lost love. In one version, however, the dragon merely scared people away to live in peace, and the city blamed it for all sorts of kidnappings. Espillet had no choice to kill it anyway, even if he felt pity for the beast.

[huckleberrysaywhen-blog]

“Pick Your Poison”

Featuring Lucy, Gabe, and Quinn

“What are we gonna do with him?” Muttered a typically excited, happy voice that was now low and rumbly with confusion. American, male, and definitely rather young.

“I do not know. Perhaps we may send him to Lucille.” Said the second voice, softer and much more dainty. It was also male, although donning a much more British-English type of speaking, watered down as if he had spent too much time with the Americans.

The partners were both standing above a man’s unconscious body, splayed out ungracefully by their feet. He seemed to be stretched out like a trapeze artist reaching for his next checkpoint. He was fair-skinned, with a head of long, messy blonde hair, and eyes that were half-closed and glazed over in his unwanted slumber. His clothing was very ripped and it was now difficult to tell what he had been wearing.

The American accent rose up again, more panicked and stressed. “I don’t know, Gabe, maybe this was a mistake. Maybe we should’ve stayed in the underworld. This dude didn’t haf’ta die.”

Presumably, the Englishman named Gabe turned his head in the shadows to see the American. “Since when have you doubted me, my love? Since when have you become so feeble?” His voice was low and soft, purring the words that rolled off his tongue as smooth as velvet.

The American nervously shifted to face him. They were both drowned out in darkness, but it could hardly be made out that they were in the shadows of an alleyway. The disturbing drips of an unknown liquid rapped quietly on the asphalt below them. The stench of the dumpsters floated around them like a thick woman’s perfume, and the bustle of the city life outside them seemed to fade away when he stared up at Gabe.

“Oh, Gabe, I don’t know, maybe since this guy’s friends tried hunting us. The humans have always been stupid! They’ve never really believed in us, and the ones that did, we killed! But this guy, he-- he had an army, Gabe, he could kill us, he could kill you...” His voice faded toward the end of his sentence, strained and thick with worry. He reached out and set his hand on top of Gabe’s, gripping his fingers tightly.

Their fingers intertwined like vines, knuckles turning white from the heavy hold they had on each other. Gabe’s voice was low and soft, as he took a step closer. “Please, my love, do not fret. They’re nothing different from the other stupid mortals. We can kill them as easily as we did the others. And, before you protest...” He leaned down, nose to nose with the American boy who was much shorter than him. “Although you dislike Lucille, he disposes of bodies quite well.”

Gabe’s partner’s breath caught in his throat at the closeness of his warm companion. In the dim light, he stared up at Gabe’s bright amber eyes, glittering a fierce yellow. He admired the pupils that were slit vertically like a cat’s. He couldn’t resist letting his eyes wander across his partner’s face; perfectly shaped, angular yet soft with curves...

“Quinn, I am flattered, but focus on the matter at hand. Help me tie up this man and get him to Lucille.” Gabe muttered, nose brushing Quinn’s cheek as his head turned away. Although it was a soft touch, hardly there, Quinn’s body was racked with a shudder.

“O-oh, okay.” He stammered out, helplessly turning after Gabe, who had stepped closer to the unconscious body once more. He dumbly stared at Gabe, his mind foggy with matters that would have to be tended to much later.

Gabe arched over, the lights from the nearby market illuminating him for a split second. He was pale-skinned, a muscular form that was rather broad-shouldered and overall large, even as a silhouette. He had a head full of dark, thick hair; presumably a dark brown or black. He had a dainty nose, upturned slightly, and pouty pink lips. Quinn often commented he looked “handcrafted with love.”

“I do suppose we can take him back to the castle--” Gabe began, crouching down over the body and rolling him onto his side, beginning to draw his limbs together to bind them. However, he was cut off by a very heavy German accent, still throaty and hissing as if it were born in the heart of the Fatherland.

“Well, Gabriel! Quinn! How nice to see you! Oh, and I see you have our friend here, the little ​besserwisser​.” The words seemed to uncomfortably shove and rattle against each other as they tumbled past the thin, faint lips of the German that was now standing at the entrance of the alleyway.

Quinn exhaled sharply, swinging his head downward and covering his face. “Oh, kill me now.”

Light from the market street dappled Quinn in such a position, revealing the beauty of the boy. He had skin that was sun-kissed and mottled with freckles absolutely everywhere, and a large beauty mark beside his left eye on his upper cheekbone. His hair was thin and wispy, but silky soft. It, strangely, was black at the roots and faded into shades of gray and silver until it was snow white at the tips. It was long and untamed, slightly curly at the tips.

Amongst his beauty, were the set of peculiar objects amongst his spine. They weren’t completely visible until he turned to aggressively face the German, in an attack stance. He looked like a gray wolf alpha, baring his teeth and bristling his spine to protect his young. A look of sheer vengeance and natural-born hate searing in his breast.

He had wings. A beautiful, large set of wings upon his back. They were extremely large, a wingspan that could easily wrap two average-sized humans comfortably. The light dappled them a mangy, dirty yellow, swamping their beauty, yet it was clear that they were silver on the undersides and solid black on the topsides. The beauties had the traditional upside down “V” at the bone’s bend, and the typical shine of a vulture’s wings.

“Ahh, ah, calm your mutt, why don’t you, Gabriel?” The German laughed, high and maniacal at the sight of Quinn’s glare that was shooting daggers. His fists flexed at his sides, lips peeled back in a disgusted expression. His gray eyes were turned silver, burning hatred, pupils dilated completely.

Gabriel cocked his head upward from where he crouched over the collapsed body. “Well, hallo,​ Lucille.Lendmeahandwiththisbody,andwecansettleyourdifferencesatthecastle, yes?” He offered, as he slid his hands underneath the body’s armpits. Gabe heaved upward as if carrying a toddler, holding it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Lucille was well-hidden in the shadows of the alleyway entrance, about twenty paces away from the boys. However, it was undeniably him, due to the revealing accent and schoolgirl giggle that Quinn despised.

“Slut bastard.” Quinn spat, hissing like a feline. If he were, his spine would be bristling, tail puffed completely. Instead, his wings kept twitching and rustling, fingers flexing. He was visibly itching to attack Lucille.

“Oh, relax, ​der Schatz,​ you just go back to being Gabriel’s lapdog. Do not be jealous of what you will never be.” Lucille cackled, head tipping back slightly. His eyes flashed a glint in the darkness, a wisp of scarlet red.

Quinn stepped forward, aggressively. “Oh, you take that back, Lucy, you bastard--” He fully intended to bash the German’s perfect face into a pulp.

But something stopped him. He hesitated, looking down to see Gabe’s free arm pressed against his chest.

“No.” Was all Gabriel said, his eyes slowly settling on Quinn’s face. They were burning with the authoritative power of a king. Well, Gabriel was a king. And although lovers, Quinn was his immortal servant nonetheless.

Quinn’s head ducked. He backed away a few paces, stumbling over his own feet. His silver gaze was averted away, hands coming to touch his throat and chest, nervously. He acted like that of a submissive dog, or wolf; even licking his lips to silently beg for forgiveness. He cringed at the sound of Gabriel’s boots hitting the asphalt in rhythm, beginning to walk away.

Lucille thought this was extremely funny. Quinn, however, did not, but could not come to his senses to beat some sense into the German for disrespecting him with laughter.

“Let’s go, boys.” Gabe purred, low and commanding. He began to walk out of the alley with the body limply swinging over his shoulder, one heavy arm wrapped around it’s hips to secure it to his person.

Quinn and Lucille exchanged a glance before following after. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing.

After a struggle of getting back to the hell castle in the underworld with an added body, the boys were sitting in the second tea room, sharing a kettle of mint tea. The castle was extravagant; three whole stories. It belonged entirely to Gabriel and Quinn, and rarely Lucille spent an evening.

The second tea room was small; hosting a red velvet sofa with golden embroideries and a golden frame, very Victorian. It had a matching armchair that Lucille lazed across, and a small Italian coffee table that was solid glass, including the legs. The walls were littered with old photos of people; some including Gabriel, some including a white-haired man, some including a large creature with terrifying red eyes and large goat horns protruding from his forehead. Mysterious folk.

Amongst the photographs, there was red-and-gold wallpaper, as well as many bookshelves pressed against the walls. Instead of containing books, they seemed to contain handmade ledgers, leatherback mostly, with scribbled, messy labels on the spines. A large glass and marble chandelier hung from the ceiling, lighting the room with gold.

Gabriel delicately handled the china, that was white with navy blue patterns and trim, pouring more steaming mint tea into Quinn’s teacup. Quinn wasn’t big on tea at all, he’d rather down a bottle of Kentucky bourbon, but Gabe forced his lover to learn tea manners.

“Thank you, again, Lucille, for all the help.” Gabe said, sincerely. His amber gaze flicked up to the German, briefly. He set down the china teapot beside the larger hot water kettle in case they wanted more. His palms set on his trousers, smoothing the wrinkles in the thighs.

Gabriel dressed quite handsomely; typically in three-piece suits, but at the least, velvet black trousers and a white French dress shirt, tucked in. On this particular occasion, he donned a black three-piece with a white undershirt and a dark red bowtie nestled under his chin. It had been difficult to see, in the dark alleyway, but was now beautifully illuminated.

Lucille flashed a grin. He, like Gabriel, dressed handsomely, and was just as beautiful. He had a head full of raven-black hair, long and untamed in his face. It framed his eyes that were a bright scarlet, with flecks of remaining brown in the centre near his dilated pupil. He had a constellation of freckles draping his nose and high, protruding cheekbones; pale, soft skin clinging to dainty bones and the curves of his feminine body. His height to weight ratio was off; he was very slender and thin, narrow-bodied and the smallest of the trio, as well as the shortest.

Typically, Lucy was found wearing the same outfit every day. It was a priest’s jacket that had been modified to drape floor-length, similar to a trench coat, but it was split in the front and back up to the waist like a riding duster. It was solid black, and buttoned up completely. Underneath his modified coat, he had a pair of black shorts that were shaped like women’s underwear. He also had fishnet stockings that gartered to the shorts. His boots were black and leather, settling just above his knee, and showing off a four-inch heel.

As well as his promiscuous outfit, Lucy had a range of jewelry. Black earrings draping across his cartilage and two black studs in his earlobes, as well as a silver chain around his neck that had a sterling silver charm of an upside down cross. Usually, he wore a scarlet neckerchief, as well as a white knit scarf around his neck.

Not to mention, the German painted his long, claw-like nails black, and often wore a cat-eye liner above his slitted, lazy red eyes.

Gabriel called him his “little incubus.” It wasn’t far off from what Lucille was.

In hilarious contrast, Quinn usually wore hoodies and jeans. Casual, and human-like. Although, he did have to cut holes in the shoulders of the hoodies and t-shirts so he could fit his wings through.

“Well, I believe we should go check on our friend, ​ja?​ ” Lucille said, standing up from where he’d been prowling on his armchair like a male lion. He dusted his coat off, re-wrapping his scarf around his neck.

Quinn eagerly set down his teacup. Despite hating Lucille and his ideas, he’d do about anything to avoid having tea time. “Yeah, I think so. Who is this bastard, again?” Quinn asked, slowly standing up and raising his arms above his head to stretch. His wings twitched in response to the muscles flexing.

Gabriel nudged all the china closer together for easy cleanup later. He rose to his feet as well, staring down at his subjects.

“He is a half breed like you, my dear. However, he is a mix between demon and human. Access to the underworld, yes, but still suffers a few side-effects. Worse than you, though.” Gabe said, as he snaked his left arm around Quinn’s waist. His warm palm settled on his hip, their sides flush together.

Quinn sheepishly nosed into his lover’s shoulder, willingly pressing against him.

Lucille snorted a high-pitched giggle. “Ah, thank god we don’t have another fallen angel on our hands. I think ​der unser Freund hier​ is enough.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. His eyes always narrowed before he was about to speak something vile, or eat someone alive. “Shut up with the foreign language, Lucy. You know I can understand German, right? And your stupid Latin, and French, and Greek... The list goes on. You’re just a slutty little asshole who thinks he’s great, just ‘cause he managed to get in cahoots with the king of hell. Now, in my opinion--”

Quinn would have kept going, but Gabriel squeezed his hip and dug his nails into his side, causing the wretch to yelp in pain and grip his wrist.

Lucille didn’t seem all that hurt, just snickering his amusement at Quinn’s punishment. “Let’s go see the half breed then, ​Liebling​.” He purred, in that same low, spine-quivering tone of voice Gabriel used. His harsh, throaty accent made it much less attractive, but nonetheless caught the fallen angel’s attention.

Lucy waved his arm, starting to stalk out of the second tea room toward a staircase leading to the basement. They were on the first floor, with one above them; and the holding cells below them.

Lucy trotted down the concrete steps, heels clicking loudly. Gabriel and Quinn followed after, still glued to each other’s hips, padding much more quietly downward.

The underground holding cells contained three metal bar cells on each side of the hallway, with a total of six open slots. There was a large metal door at the end of the hallway, with a variety of locks on it, for dangerous animals that needed to be held. The walls were a mix of concrete, diorite, and a solid form of mercury. Very difficult to escape from. The metal bars were, of course, a mix of various metals and silver, to ward off creatures that were weak to it. It was dim and musky, and smelled strongly of sweat and blood.

Each cell contained a small bed. And that was about it. Only one of the cells was occupied; by the half breed they had captured earlier. And boy, was he pissed. He was awake, and raging.

His claws had dug into the walls, trying to rip holes in them; adding to pre-existing claw marks. His head swung around, staring with sheer hatred at the trio that stepped down the stairs. His voice rose in a high-pitched screech, like that of a hawk or eagle. It was deafening, and made Quinn flinch and cover his much more sensitive ears.

Lucille and Gabriel stared back, unfazed. Gabriel snickered quietly, looking downward and shaking his head. “My, oh my, you poor creature.” He said, softly. Gabe stepped closer to the cell, peering through the bars with his hands in his pockets. His shadow enveloped the half breed completely. What a size difference.

“I’d love to cut you into a fillet and feed you to the hellhounds.” He said, lips twitching up slightly at the corner. His eyes bore into the half breed with malicious thoughts, staring right through him.

The creature in the cell quivered slightly, jerking his blue gaze away. Instead, he glared at Lucille, baring his teeth like a dog.

Lucy giggled, high and insane. He stepped beside Gabriel, meeting the fearless blue gaze with authority. “Oh, Gabriel, I’d like to shove objects down his throat until he suffocates!”

He cried out a little with joy at the thought, flashing his insane grin. His white teeth glinted in the dim light, sharp canines whispering “we want your flesh” to the half breed.

Quinn crept closer to Gabe, shaking his head to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. “I’d like to beat the shit outta him, ‘till he’s begging for mercy, and then I wanna cut out that stupid tongue’a his.” The American accent and slang really came flowing out of Quinn during that sentence, with a faint drawl to his tongue-tip.

Gabriel laughed slightly, quietly. A rare sound. He peered down at the now intimidated prisoner, flashing a smile with rows of shark-like teeth, all triangular and pointed. With promise in his voice, he murmured, “Pick your poison.”

[spottedlekkudancer]

Same Heart

Chapter 1 - Voyagers

Sum: You are a Colonel from the Battlecruiser Absolution now aboard Finalizer in an attempt to close a banking deal for the Order abroad. Not much has ever given you cause to seek a significant other before, however, when several people on the ship start taking a personal interest in you things may change.(KyloxReaderxHux)

Word count: 3,700+

Warnings: Language

“Come on Master (F/N)” The clawed hands of a B1-Battle Droid wrapped around your forearm, shaking your form in it’s place. “Did you forget what this day is?”

Through cracked lids you gazed up your assistant now acting as an alarm clock. “No Sterling, I did not.” Swinging the grey striped bed sheets off your body and placing your feet onto the floor you decided you had to get up even though you did not want to. Today you were being temporarily relocated to the Finalizer, a Resurgent-class Battlecruiser under the command of General Armitage Hux. A high ranking official, such as yourself, was needed to deliberate and sign off on a loan with the InterGalactic Banking clan. You only hoped it wouldn’t take too long. For although you loathed where you called home now you still did not enjoy entertaining the idea of being so close to the tyrannical Hux. Just his name made your stomach turn over with bitter, doleful, and vexatious memories. 

The only thing you carried with to the hanger was your data pad; you still had quite a bit of work to finish and the quiet of space would be just the place to help you think. Or so you thought. Lt Colonel Zack had different plans. He stood in front of the Upsilon-class shuttle prepared for your transport: a smile plastered to his face and bags in hand. You stopped short in front of him. “Did you receive the order to come as well then?” You didn’t know how to feel about this development. Zack could be quite the chatterbox, even emotional at times.

“Good morning to you too Colonel.” He looked you up and down a bit too cheerily, but perhaps he was just excited to get off the ship for once. “Where is your luggage? I was under the impression this trip would be a week in length.”

“A week or more.” You corrected. “I had Scarlet bring them down earlier.”

The lines in Lt Colonel Zack’s forehead creased. “Is your droid coming with us ma’am?”

You shook your head ‘no’ as an answer, not wanting him to pick up more things to comment on. It was far too early to be conversating without a steaming cup of Tutsee brew.

Traveling the abyss of the outer rim takes time.

Far more time than you cared for. Several full cycles in fact. Between your trip to Finalizer and back you would be spending just as much time in wild space as you would closing that bank deal. When you did finally land you were so relieved you could have kissed the first person you saw. However, that would prove to be a tight lipped and pompous ginger haired man. You greeted him with a grimace half woven into a smile. “General, a pleasure as always.”

“General Hux, Sir.” Zack immediately picked up on the tension arching between the two of you.

“Lt Colonel, Captain.” He nodded to your officer and then to you.

“Actually sir, (Y/N) is a Colonel herself now.” Zack wanted to be respectful but it came across as timid.

Zack didn’t need to state that fact you thought, Hux was already aware of it. If the change in uniform color wasn't enough the plaque on your chest was a dead give away. Moreover, the fact he had signed for you to come here; no meager petty officer or Captain would be consulted on something like this.

“Yes I was informed your ship and feet were taken over by Captain Jaohm some time ago. How are you liking desk work instead?” His tone suggested the stab was intentionally set up.

Your time as Captain of the TA-772 explorer craft “Armata” was extremely short lived. Only a few months after receiving the new assignment Armata had come under the attack of  Pirates equipped with clone war era Vulture Droids.  During this you managed to lose some not necessarily important but definitely expensive cargo and were then sent for court martial. Although the court agreed this was entirely a success on your behalf, and you had been promoted several ranks for it, they unfortunately had moved you out of the Navy. “It is as fulfilling of a position as one could expect.” At this you did smile, for making sure he knew you weren’t bothered by this was paramount. “And I hear you are moving to StarKiller soon, with Commander Ren in tow no less. Seems you two have become quite the team.”

It was common knowledge that Ren and Hux shared more animosity for one another than a Loth-cat and an Akk dog. “Yes well, one learns to use the cards they’ve been dealt.”

It was good face but this idea was laughable to you. Though you had never met the Commander before you were positive in the conclusion that he was one of the only people Hux could not command or manipulate. “I was under the impression Commander Ren was in the Navy not the Army, General. Do correct me if I’m wrong.”

“You are not.” Hux stated plainly.

You only scoffed. So you were at least right in thinking he held no power over him officially.

After your little “welcome aboard” meeting in the hanger Hux introduced you to Lieutenant Mitaka whom was instructed to show both you and Zack to your quarters, and around the two kilometer long space cruiser. It was nearly a whole day's event in front of you, but this was much better of a pastime than mindless document work. So you didn’t complain. You did however, request time to use the refresher before your tour. Mitaka seemed happy to oblige and forwarded a map of the ship to your data pad. You all agreed you would rendezvous in the cafeteria in one hour.

On your way to the mess hall you passed by a peculiar scene

“Okay now can we rewire it please so i can go have my muffin.” The woman’s abrasive and accusatory tone is what caught your attention.

Down the hall on your left a clearly upset technician supervisor was hunched over an even larger man: his hands in a hole in the wall entirely too small to accommodate both of them.

New guy, maybe? Didn’t matter, you had somewhere to be. You took another step forward turning away, but the subordinate's actions were too loud to ignore.

“I haven’t had my muffin yet Matt!” She groaned loudly standing at her full height and throwing her hands up in the air. “Why do they keep sending me these people?!” She stormed away from the crouching man. “Huh Steve, why?” She regarded one of the stormtrooper guards on her way out of the area. You were almost struck with the nerve to go track her down and reprimand her. But it wasn’t worth the energy. She didn’t necessarily do something wrong, just obscene behavioral conduct. This wasn’t your ship. therefore, not your place to correct anything either.

Just as one disturbance left another entered. A trooper with an arrogant strut. “What up Matt.” he mocked the man on the ground. Passing him and kicking his wrench across the floor.

Honestly did none of these people see you, a superior officer, standing at the end of the intersection? The stormtrooper was headed right for you. Did they just not care? Should you care? Things were obviously run a little different on this ship.

“Hey you kicked my wrench!” The Nerf of a blonde turned on his heels, facing your direction for the first time. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to scream or cry. “Jerkface” Matt muttered to himself.

You sighed, his dorky glasses and defeated posture pulled at your heartstrings. It would be inappropriate to console him, but you had enough time to make a small detore.

Your boots clicked with an echo as you changed course. Casually you nudged the wrench with your foot giving it the momentum it needed to slide it’s way back to the toolbox next to Matt. The eye contact you made was brief and more than enough in your opinion to get your point across. Once out of the hall you turned right, correcting the “short cut” you had created. You would now be able to sleep without guilt over the situation you just witnessed.

You seemed to be lacking control a lot today. First Matt, next Mitaka didn’t have answers to any of your questions, then Zack got lost in a common area and it took two hours to hunt him down, and now at the end of a long day Hux was treating you to more invasive prying.

“And my former quarters?” Hux inquired as straight faced as ever. Absolution was where Hux called home in his first years as a general.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh.” Amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I hate to think they didn’t offer you them when you arrived for duty aboard the battlecruiser. How...” he paused to consider his next words. “Unfair.”

You knew he was teasing you, Hux didn’t believe in fairness like you did. On several occasions when you worked together in the past he regarded you as naive or foolish for such ideals. “Not at all. Admiral Broste did in fact push that I take Brendol’s old apartment in favor of a more modest one. It took him some time to accept ‘no’ as my answer.”

Hux stiffened at the mention of his father. Unblinking.

“Of course since then another officer moved in. I’m told he was ecstatic at his luck to have such a roomy abode.” You turned to him, face filled with false curiosity. “Are your quarters here as large as on Absolution?”

He cleared his throat. “No, no. Only Ren’s are.” It was a mindless answer and the muscles in his neck were not yet relaxing.

“How…unfair.” A teasing grin replaced the hard lines of Hux’s face when you said this. There were rare moments when your quibs and insidious bickering could turn pleasant enough to call friendly. If you were being completely honest with yourself Armitage was never really the one that got your stomach turning, it was the thought of his father. And at times the two Hux’s were very much alike.

The next thing you knew all of your attention was drawn to the thunderous footfalls of none other than Kylo Ren. Both you and Hux turned to greet him.

“Ren, it’s about time you joined us.”  Hux said.

The closer Kylo got to the both of you the more intimidating he became. The very air around him was heavy, not to mention he towered over everyone else. “My place is not in the bridge, General. I’m only here to formally meet our guests.” It was the first time you were hearing the voice of the Knight and it made you wonder if all the stories of Kylo being a cyborg or alien were true. Maybe he wore the mask to hide the colored skin of a different humanoid species. It wasn’t the enslaving era of the Galactic empire, but among a predominantly human order people still acted just as racist as ever.

“Yes.” Hux gestured to you. “Allow me to introduce Colonel (F/N)(L/N): former Captain of the Armata and an old friend of my family.”

“An honer to meet you Commander Ren. I look forward to our time together.” You were surprised your voice wasn’t shaking you were so nervous, and after an awkward moment when Kylo didn’t reply to you you continued speaking. “I’m sorry to inform you my Lieutenant has already turned in for the evening.” You brushed a straying hair from your bun behind your ear, trying not to think about how close he stood to you. How the heat and energy he exuded made you feel weak with trepidation. Kylo didn’t respond verbally to this either, only stared at you. Or at least you assumed he was staring at you. The eye slit of his mask was facing only you.

You turned back to Hux figuring it would be less stressful to talk to him than acknowledge the silence of Ren any longer.  “So what is on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“Nothing for you. The representative from the bank has given an ETA of 2200 hours.” Hux stated.

“I’m sure they will -

“Is that how you rose in ranks so quickly?” The modulated voice of Kylo interrupted.

You looked back up at him, far more confused than Hux seemed to be by the outburst. “Beg pardon?”

Kylo was right on top of clarifying himself, he wanted you to ask for the question to be repeated. “You are young, especially for such a high rank. At best you should be no more than an First Lieutenant.”

It dawned on you then and you're faced dropped into a stern frown. Any panic you had faced by the man’s presence was now overcome by the inherent need to prove your worth in some way. Many before Ren had assumed or questioned your position because of your political connection with Armitage and other powerful people in the First Order. None, however, had been so blunt about it to your face.

“If not your connection with the General perhaps you are conducting relations with another authority.” Kylo had just crossed a very clear line and the whole bridge went silent.

“Ren!” Hux was about ready to take the stick up his own ass out and beat Kylo with it. But you were much quicker to defend yourself than he was.

“If anything, Commander, should I have any urge to ‘conduct relations’ it would not be with someone of power. I enjoy playing the boss.” It was an equally crass comment. Fighting fire with fire is at times the best approach. And sure enough no one had anything to say back to you after that. Even Ren had fallen into silence. Weather he was taken aback or not, you couldn’t tell, but that is what you hoped happened.

You gazed around the room and all the officers immediately put their heads down and went back to work. Satisfied you pulled down at your tunic some. “If you’ll excuse me Sir.” It was directed at the General. He nodded.

After the blaster doors to the bridge closed behind you, you pulled up the map you were given on your data pad. It didn’t take long to find what you were looking for, every ship this size or larger had one and they were all relatively in the same location. It didn’t take you long to get their either, the smell of liquor was both revolting and intoxicating. All you needed was a little something to calm you down after what just happened.

You sat at the bar of the small cantina like common area and gave your order. To your liking the tender was quick and made your cocktail strong. Perhaps he could tell from the way your forehead creased that you were not having the best night, or maybe he just always made them hard.

“I didn’t take you for a drinker.” A figure in black uniform took the stool next to you.

“Lt Mitaka.” You played with the rim of your glass. “I could say the same for you.”

He chuckled. “The only people aboard this carrier that don’t are the Commander and the General.”

Armitage drinks, just not with noisy co-workers, you thought to yourself. The man is almost as big of an alcoholic as his father was. “I guess that doesn't surprise me much. I can’t think of two more stressful people to work with.”

“Is that why you are here?”

You nodded slightly. “I can’t say i’ve met the Commander's equal before.”

Mitaka chuckled at your comment. “That’s one way of putting it!”

You swiveled in your chair to talk to the off duty officer better. “Can’t blame it all of him. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I sleep better after a drink or two on a regular night.”

Mitaka’s eyebrows raised. “Only two?”

“Oh yes.” You flattened your hand against the counter top, patting the black glass. “That’s the Max out. I’ve heard stories about myself drunk that I am frightened to imagine, so I don’t let it get that far. Blackouts aren’t exactly good if I intend to keep my position here.”

“And here I pegged you for one of those giggling and dancing drunks.” He took a sip of his own drink. “But totally out of control Colonel could be fun to watch too.”

It was something in the way he emphasized the word ‘control’ that caught your attention. “I promise you, neither would be a pretty sight.”

“With someone as alluring as you, doesn’t matter what you would do.” For a moment a nagging voice in the back of your mind asked you to consider if he had heard what happened in the bridge. What he mocking you? You tried hard to dismiss these thoughts. He was already off duty at that time and you didn’t see him in front or behind you on your way here. You doubted he actually knew anything. This little man that you had taken for meek and not worth your time earlier today was just a smoother talker once you got him in a looser environment.  That was all.

You shook your head at him, both flattered and dis-amused. It was a strange combination of  feelings. You didn’t want to be hit on. Not tonight. And not by him. He was nice, but you just weren’t interested in personal engagements. “I should get going.” You quickly finished off your drink. The ferment burned a little going down. “Big day tomorrow.” You lied.

“Oh, of course.” His smile faded. “Did you want me to walk you back?”

“No, Thank you. I remember where it is.” You forced yourself to smile at him and leave in a manner that was very unhurried. “I’ll see you on the clock, Lieutenant.”

Several times tonight you had to remind yourself that you would not be on Finalizer long. That all of this was temporary and you could go back to your old grumpy Admiral on Absolution where things were straight-laced and normal. Admiral Kelljaed Broste was always a comforting thought. He always treated you like a grown woman, even when you were still in the academy and under Brendol’s crushing boots. The man beyond set in his Imperial ways. In your mind he was the only living personnel from the Empire’s fallen military left. This lead to many arguments on how things were to be run, but those worded scuffles always ended in some kind of understanding, a stiff drink, and Broste saying something outrageously funny. He was a nice man for someone who was responsible for the death of millions. That wasn’t to say he was a good person. He wasn’t. Nor were you. There was a distinct difference between nice and good. The Admiral was nice and you would miss him when he eventually passed. A sense of humor was hard to come by in such a strict military regime.

Now if someone would ask you if you would consider yourself Nice or Good you would say “Neither.” Keeping in mind you didn’t see yourself as the opposite. Mean or Bad that is. In your eyes the only thing you aspired to be was Right. Right, Fair, and Just. The galaxy needed a firm hand and this order was far stronger than the Empire. No planet under the watch of the First Order starved or were so impoverished that people lived in the wilds. There was no slavery, and above all you were here to protect the people from encroaching dangers. Dangers that included shielding people from their destructive selves. That included a total outlaw of Spice and mandatory mental and physical check ups yearly; for military it was quarterly.

That’s why when you heard yelling and saw sparks flying out of a control room it took you aback. Whomever it was throwing this temper tantrum needed not only to be court Martialed but to be mentally evaluated. Still this wasn’t your ship. You didn’t have to power to initiate an investigation into said person. All you could do right now was stop this madman from causing more damage.

You adjusted your uniform and hair to look as professional as possible, with the plan of going in there and giving the clearly out of line subordinate a severe reprimand. When you turned the corner to confront the culprit you could have puked in horror.

There surrounded by on fire computers was Kylo Ren, ignited lightsaber in hand and hunched in aggressive breathing.

“Commander!” You were outraged. A superior officer flat out demolishing in use equipment that was in fact not cheap to fix. You had never heard of such a thing. You thought a Knight of Ren would at least keep their rage checked on ship. Apparently not. Was this what Mitaka was referring to when he said everyone drank because of the Commander?

Kylo whirled around, seating with unchecked fury. “What?!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. ‘What?’ was all he had to say for his actions? Like he had some kind of permission slip that said he could do whatever he wanted? “You do realize someone has to fix this right? If you were so angry about something why didn’t you just use the battle simulators in the training rooms? Kriff! Go and cut down droids no one gives two shits about?”

Kylo took two long strides so he was mere inches away from you, and that heavy presence he carried started to make you feel sick again. It hit you that you just yelled at the most powerful man in the galaxy besides the supreme leader. Of course he had a ‘get out of jail free’ card. He stared you down for what felt like a medium sized eternity. Long enough to get you thinking about why you were afraid of him crushing you before, but not now. You didn’t get to come to a conclusion.

“Not my problem.” He growled, straightening to his full height and pushing past you.

“You could have at least put out the fire.” You projected to him over your shoulder. “Jerkface” You mumbled the last part, not really wanting to prove you had a death wish.  You started typing out messages to proper personnel and emergency droids.

Unbeknownst to you Kylo did catch that last remark. And if he wasn’t so worked up over Hux chewing him out for disrespecting you earlier he might have even smiled.

[ellanainthetardis]

Lots of things happening today! I hope you enjoy it! Please do let me know, feedback makes my day and feeds my wavering motivation!

[FF] or [AO3]

39. 17 Days

Haymitch was aware he was strutting but he couldn’t stop himself.

He carefully pushed the pram down the streets that led to Sae’s restaurant, proud as a peacock, to the others’ obvious amusement. He was suspecting Effie and Katniss were exchanging mocking looks behind his back but he didn’t care.

Not when every acquaintance they crossed path with took a look inside the pram and declared April to be beautiful. And she was beautiful. Effie had dressed her up for her first official outing. She was wearing a white dress with pink glittery flowers that matched her pacifier and her tiny boots.

So far, there had only been one incident to report. A paparazzi who had been hiding near the entrance to the Village and had ended up with an arrow wedged in his camera for his trouble. Haymitch wasn’t sure what had freaked out the guy most: being shot at by the Mockingjay or Snowball jumping on him, all snarls and growls. The dog hadn’t attacked but it had been a close thing, at Haymitch’s whistle he had simply snatched the camera with its jutting arrow from the man’s hands and had sauntered back to spit it at Katniss’ feet.

The girl had sighed and reluctantly patted his head. The dog would win her over yet, Haymitch could feel it.

Needless to say both Tadius and Elindra had been appalled by their way of handling the situation but Katniss had simply shouldered her bow with a shrug. As for Effie, she had ushered her parents down the slope, chatting with her newly arrived father, dismissing any of their warnings about possible lawsuits for assault. None of the vultures would dare drag them in front of a court of law. Not with Plutarch Heavensbee at their back.

There had been more reporters but they had had the good taste of staying far away. There would be pictures in the gossip rags probably but, with some luck, the pram would shield the baby. And Effie had been right, it had been time to take April out.

Their daughter was certainly enjoying it.

Her blue eyes were wide open, her attention mainly on him since it was all she could see. She was sucking on her pacifier and making some noises from time to time – the kind he and Effie had decided meant she was happy.

When Effie looped her arms around one of his, leaving her parents to their discussion, he smirked even harder.

“You are being far too smug.” she grinned, looking very pleased herself. “We will irritate people who do not like us.”

“They can go to hell.” he snorted. “I’ve got the most perfect baby in Panem and the prettiest wife. I’m allowed to be smug.”

She laughed, leaning into his side before reaching inside the pram to adjust the light blanket on April’s legs.  “Look at your Papa being all smooth, darling… And they say he cannot be charming…”

“Can be charming, alright.” he smirked. “Where do you think she gets it from?”

His teasing was answered with some light bumping against his shoulder and a shake of her head.

“And off goes the charm, April. Did you see it fly away?” she cooed at their daughter. “A charming man would have said you take after your Mama.”

Haymitch decided it should have been illegal to be as happy as he was right then.

The moment Sae spotted them, she was over in a flash. She insisted on settling them outside so they could enjoy the sun and pushed several tables closer so they could all sit together. Everyone was welcomed warmly – except for Elindra – and the old woman cooed and awed at the baby long enough that Haymitch felt like he was going to burst with pride.

He knew he might have been a little too obvious when Katniss and Peeta started laughing like the two annoying brats they were. Snowball settled next to the pram, always watchful over April, and eventually rested his head on Haymitch’s foot when he sat down at the very end of the table so he could keep an eye on his daughter who was falling asleep.

They were a loud party.

The food was good but clearly not up to Tadius and Elindra’s standards. It was funny if only to hear the Capitol woman argue with Sae. There was some debate going on between Tadius and Peeta about medical discoveries that still weren’t within everyone’s reach and reserved to those wealthy enough to pay for it. Peeta was advocating that it was unfair while Tadius argued that the country didn’t have enough funds to support a medical insurance system to cover procedures as expensive as the ones they were talking about.

The topic interested Haymitch and he would have loved to cut in but his whole attention was on his daughter. When she stirred, he picked her up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Effie touched his arm and he handed her over. They kept doing that, passing her back and forth between them, still adjusting to the fact this was real…

“It’s time for her bottle.” Effie reminded him, pushing her sunglasses on her head.

They were eating dessert and most of them had finished so he almost suggested to wait until they were back at the house but, truth be told, nobody seemed in a hurry to leave and it was such a nice day… Even Elindra wasn’t as irritating. Or maybe he was simply getting used to her.

He rummaged in the diaper bag until he found the bottle they had packed and handed it to her.

Tadius cleared his throat. “May I, Euphemia?”

Effie looked taken aback and almost immediately cradled April closer to her chest in an instinctive protective move. “You want to feed her?”

“Have you lost your mind, Tadius?” Elindra huffed. “You have never fed an infant.”

“What can I say, this District makes me bold.” the Capitol man declared, almost sheepish. “I would understand if you would rather do it yourself, of course. As you mother pointed out I am not skilled in that department…”

Effie searched Haymitch’s eyes. He shrugged, leaving the decision to her. She seemed to hesitate and then stood up to walk around the table. Katniss immediately gave her her own seat, taking the chair Effie had vacated instead. His wife was careful when she placed the baby in Tadius’ arms, making sure he was supporting April’s head adequately.

Since he had arrived the previous night, her father hadn’t requested to hold his granddaughter. Haymitch had written it off as a Capitol quirk. Elindra had picked April up a few times but the woman never carried her for long. A few minutes at best and then she handed it over to Effie or Haymitch. Aside for gushing over how precious April was, she didn’t seem to know what to do with a baby and she didn’t look very interested in learning. She had told them at least five times that they should get a nanny and had finally made her peace with their refusal when Effie had gotten so upset she had almost burst out in tears at the mere thought of a stranger taking care of their child.

She had only given birth a little over two weeks earlier and she was still dealing with that. Haymitch had learned to avoid certain touchy subjects. She was emotional about the strangest things.

He distractedly fiddled with the cat ragdoll, watching Effie laugh softly while she guided her father’s hands. Tadius seemed afraid of hurting April somehow.

The baby was a trooper. As long as there was food, she wasn’t peaky about where it came from.

Conversations started again but Haymitch didn’t engage, trying to remember the last time he had felt so relaxed with such a big group of people, outside in the sun, carefree and relaxed.

This was… good.

“They’re not the worst.” Katniss muttered as an aside clearly meant for his ears only. “For Capitols. Well, her mother isn’t really nice but…” She rolled her eyes. “She’s growing on me, I guess.”

“They’re family now, I guess.” he answered on the same tone. He was the first surprised by that answer.

Katniss’ eyebrows shot up but, in the end, she wrinkled her nose. “They stuck around this time. So… Yeah, maybe.”

Tadius looked elated to have managed his first bottle feeding but Haymitch wasn’t sure it was the action that had delighted him as much as Effie’s obvious pleasure at seeing him make an effort. The man held April a little while longer and only handed her back when she started fussing. Effie automatically rubbed her tummy, meeting Haymitch’s gaze over the table.

April had been crying after they fed her for a few days now. Larcher insisted it was nothing concerning, that colic wasn’t uncommon, that it would fade eventually…

He hated seeing his daughter in pain.

April was loud and she was obviously tired of fresh air so they all stood up. Effie kept the baby in her arms, he stuck close to them, letting Peeta push the empty pram.

“I know, sweetie.” she hummed, pressing soothing kisses to their daughter’s brow. “I know it hurts…”

Haymitch wrapped his arm around Effie’s shoulders and gently rubbed April’s stomach. It wasn’t that easy a thing to do as they walked but they had become very skilled at it. Their daughter only stopped crying when they walked around and rubbed her belly in a particularly gentle way.

They bumped into the Clarkes as they passed by the bakery. Effie and Elindra immediately stopped to chat with Eileen – the Capitol woman complimented the children in a very hypocritical tone – and Peeta, who had been talking about his business with Tadius, was soon trapped in a conversation with Liam about increasing the daily amount of baked goods the boy delivered to the coffee shop. Peeta would need to hire help soon, Haymitch figured, business was good.

“Haymitch, I have a favor to ask you.” Tadius said suddenly, leaving the boy to his discussion. “Do you know where the old mines were and would you take me there?”

His eyebrows shot up. “What do you want to go there for?”

“The government is about to put the lands for sale.” Effie’s father explained.

“It’s Swiss cheese down there.” he commented. “Not sure you can build anything.”

Tadius dismissed that with a wave of his hand, the black gemstone he always wore on his middle finger catching the light. “I still would like to inspect them.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged and reached out to tap Effie’s shoulder. Effie had been in the middle of a sentence and shot him a dark glare. Interrupting someone was rude. He smirked in answer. “Your dad wants to see the old mines, I’ll be back quick.”

“Yes, alright.” she huffed, irritated with his disrupting of her conversation. “Take Snowball with you. He needs some proper exercising.”

He pecked her lips just to annoy her further, brushed his fingers against April’s cheek and nodded to Eileen before steering Tadius away from Elindra and her high pitched voice.

“What kind of business do you do?” he asked, realizing a bit too late that he had never asked. Effie had always mentioned business without going into the specifics and Tadius took obvious pride in his company but Haymitch had no clue what the company actually did.

“Oh, a little of everything really.” the man smiled. “My grandfather was an architect, the company was specialized in residential design when he started it. Then, he took on an associate who was into interior design and the business really took off. It did not flourish until my father came to work into the company though. He bought a few smaller architecture companies, made enough money to buy my grandfather’s associate’s shares… Then, he started investing in other fields. Food service industry, leisure, fashion, private clinics… We have shares everywhere now.” The more Tadius talked, the lighter the spring in his steps became. “When my father came into the company it was declining, when he left it to me, it was an empire.”

The Capitol obviously had a great admiration for his father.

“He sounds like a brilliant man.” he ventured carefully.

“He was.” Tadius nodded. “Business is ruthless. I learned more from watching him close deals than I did at university. He taught me how to deal with sharks.” The man chuckled. “Although, I trust you had experience in that department yourself.”

He meant sponsors.

Haymitch focused on the familiar narrow streets that used to lead to the Seam. “More than I’d like.”

“My father was a great man.” the Capitol nodded slowly, as if to himself. “He was not pleased about my marrying Elindra. It created a rift between us I never quite managed to breach.”

“Really?” he frowned. “Why?”

Aside from the obvious, he didn’t say. Elindra was a silly, shallow and greedy woman. But most women in the city – hell, most people – were like that.

“She did not have… the pedigree.” Tadius offered tactfully. “My father built our financial empire and hoisted us to the upper class but… People never let you forget where you come from. Money is a good deterrent to their snobbism though.”

“Wasn’t she rich too?” he frowned. “Thought she was an actress or something…”

He was sure Effie had mentioned that.

“She was and she had made quite a name for herself.” the Capitol nodded. “She was a star… So beautiful… More beautiful than Lyssa in her prime by far. She was… breathtaking. She could bat an eyelash and all the men around her threw themselves at her feet.” Tadius laughed, a little bitter. “I begged her to marry me. I loved her, you see. I loved her madly. I realized only too late that what she loved was my money.”

Haymitch winced and kicked a pebble. “Sucks.”

“Quite.” Tadius snorted, burying his hands in the pockets of his suit. “It was stipulated in our marriage contract that we were supposed to have one child. I pleaded for another for five years. She had made Lyssandra her sole property and I was hoping for a boy. In the end, all it took was agreeing to buying a country house. She refused to carry the baby though so we paid a surrogate.”

He was starting to feel ill-at-ease. He liked Effie’s father but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know all those details about her parents’ marriage. Or Effie’s birth.

It made him angry that Elindra hadn’t even wanted to carry her, to grow her. Effie was… Effie was perfect. Extraordinary. And the fact that Elindra hadn’t been able to see that from the start, the fact that she had chosen to…

“We’re almost there.” he said, hoping to change the subject. That part of the District hadn’t really been touched yet. Dust puffed in clouds as they walked and Tadius muttered about the state of his shoes and pants.

“Are you certain this is quite safe?” the Capitol asked when they left the town behind for good.

Haymitch supposed he hadn’t often wandered into the wild – if you could call that the wild.

“Bears don’t wander this far.” he shrugged, whistling when Snowball disappeared from sight. “Some wild cats do but they’re afraid of humans, it’s really not that dangerous. Polecats though, they’re the real plague.” He abruptly stopped when he caught sight of the familiar landmarks. “We’re here.” Tadius stepped forward but Haymitch held him back. The mines had collapsed during the bombings and it was a real landfill still. Vegetation had grown, making it look like green craters. “I’m not sure the ground’s stable enough. The Mayor’s been petitioning the government to do something for two years. Kids know not to play around here but teenagers are often stupid.”  

He would know. He had hung around the abandoned mines with his friends often enough in his youth despite the warnings.

“We had the same situation in Two.” Tadius declared. His voice has lost the friendly touch, he sounded professional now. He was inspecting the place with a serious gaze, calculating… “We filled the empty cavities underground with cement. It was costly but worth the investment.”

It would beat having a potential cave-in on their hands. Now that April was there… He was hyper aware of Twelve’s every danger.

“What do you want to build?” he asked curiously.

“I would have to come back with a few experts.” the Capitol hummed distractedly, before pointing out to a large section of rocky ground. “From here to here… We would build a residential area. Something similar to the Victors Village but more modern. We did the same in Two and Seven and it was very successful. Twelve is a growing District but people are reluctant to move in because they like their comfort.”

“I like my District small.” Haymitch grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Tadius actually laughed. “Have no fear, I do not think it will ever become as big as Two or Four.” He pointed to another place, a little away from the residential area, closer to town. “I was thinking about building a convalescent home here, they are always interested in secluded locations. It is better for patients, I believe.”

“You think people will come to Twelve to be treated?” he frowned. “Thirteen’s not that far…”

“Thirteen does not have fresh air or a beautiful view like this one.” Tadius dismissed. “It is all about marketing, Haymitch. We could implement some sort of agreement with the Mayor… We could grant use of our medical machines in exchange for some financial arrangement… That would benefit both us and the District.” The Capitol nodded thoughtfully. “And, naturally, I will have to look into empty buildings in town itself.”

“Are you taking over Twelve?” he asked, half-joking and half-apprehensive.

“Twelve is lacking a good sweetshop.” the businessman countered. “It won’t be said my granddaughter will live somewhere without a sweetshop. The Candy Paradise franchise will do very well. I was thinking about having one of the Children’s Kingdom center implemented too.”

Haymitch shook his head. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, it is the best thing for children.” Tadius explained, gesturing to the path they had taken so they would head back to town. Haymitch followed after making sure Snowball was sticking around. “Why, the franchise is almost twenty years old now and still popular. It is a daycare center with games and trained nannies… There are different rooms and activities depending on ages and interests… There are different fees depending on if you want them to take care of your child daily or if you are just leaving them there for the afternoon… Children love it. It has been a big hit in every District we set shop in.” Haymitch wasn’t sure. It sounded like a Capitol thing to him. They were always eager to get their kids off their hands. “Timotheo and Bryden love it. It is all they talk about. When they talk to me, that is. I am sure April will love it too.”

Haymitch didn’t commit. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings but April didn’t need to live in a small version of the Capitol. That wasn’t how they did things around here.

He would have to tell Effie to talk to him, he decided.

“I would have to visit Twelve more often.” the Capitol added, almost as an afterthought. Despite its casualness, Haymitch doubted it was so innocent.

“You’re always welcome, Tadius.” he said sincerely enough. “You don’t need to buy any land to come around.”

“I am afraid Elindra will insist on accompanying me.” the man replied and Haymitch winced a little. He wasn’t sure if Effie’s father had caught it or not but the Capitol remained silent for a few minutes. When he talked, he was deadly serious. “She is not heartless.”

“That’s really not my business.” he sighed.

“You are our son-in-law, Haymitch.” Tadius argued. “I do believe it makes it your business.” He wasn’t sure how to disagree with that so he simply shrugged. The Capitol cleared his throat. “She was… misguided for a long time. I told you my father did not approve of our match.”

“’Cause she was interested.” he guessed.

“No.” Tadius denied. “It would not have been the first marriage where money was a third participant. Elindra is clever, she has perfect manners and she was famous. Three things he would have loved in any other potential daughter-in-law. The problem laid elsewhere… Has Effie ever talked to you about her grandfather on her mother’s side?”

“No much.” he hesitated. “Just that she loved him a lot. Took her ice skating and such… Let her be a real kid.”

“Yes, Timotheo was quite… controversial.” Tadius remarked. “He was against the Games and for a good reason, you see. Before the first rebellion… Well, he was the eldest son of one of the wealthiest families in the city but he fell in love with a girl from a District. It wasn’t forbidden yet although very much frowned upon.”

“Effie’s grandmother was a District girl?” he asked, stunned. She had never told him that.

“He was forced to choose between the girl and his fortune and he chose the girl.” Tadius sighed. “Elindra grew up in poverty.”

“For a Capitol.” he snorted, not even trying to stop himself. “We don’t have the same definition.”

“I suppose not.” Tadius amended. “However, it was terrible for her. She resented her father a lot for his choices and loathed her mother’s sometimes couth behavior. She had ambitions and she fought to get to the top. Her origins, though… My father never forgave them.”

“Can’t really feel sorry for her.” Haymitch replied. “I’m sorry, Tadius, but it’s…”

“She has always been terribly afraid of falling back into poverty, of becoming a nobody again.” the Capitol interrupted him. “The rebellion… You must understand the climate after that was difficult. Capitol companies were shunned by the government, business was uncertain, social circles were even more treacherous… Elindra is used to being queen. She doesn’t…”

“Doesn’t justify kicking Effie out the door.” he growled. “You have any idea the state she was in the day she came here?”

He didn’t like remembering.

Drenched from the rain, two suitcases, a frayed pink coat… He had opened his door and had thought for a second that she looked like a drown rat. She had started crying before he had even stepped aside to let her in.

He had spent thirty minutes trying to comfort her while getting her into dry clothes. He hadn’t been sure how long it had been since she had eaten a proper meal, she had looked famished, almost feverish…

She had been frantic, sobbing about how much in debts she was, about how the government had taken everything she owned and how she had tried to keep afloat…

He could still remember it perfectly. The way her fingers had clenched the mug of tea he had brewed for her, the tears that kept falling into the liquid, the slight shaking of her shoulders…

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.” she had finally confessed in a broken breath.

He had been terrified. Terrified. Because he was certain she hadn’t been talking of living in the Capitol at the time. It had been living she couldn’t bear anymore.

The first few weeks had been hard.

He had kept triggering flashbacks and panic attacks without meaning to. He had asked the kids not to come around without warning anymore because she hated them seeing her like that. It had taken so long for them to find a routine, some sort of rhythm…

He had paid off her debts, of course. She had promised to repay him but she had been in no state to find a job and it hadn’t really been a problem or a priority. With that weight off her shoulders, she had been able to focus on herself a little more.

It had been tough, though.

So, so tough.

He wouldn’t say she had recovered now but she was so much better than when she had first showed up.

“I was not home when Effie came that day.” Tadius confessed. “I would not have let Elindra… We could not take Effie in. Lyssa was already living with us and she was far too angry with her sister. Lyssa needed us.”

“So did Effie.” he spat.

“Yes, I understand that now. At the time…” the Capitol shook his head, lowering his voice a little because they were entering town again and there were people going about their own business in the street. “I would have found her a small apartment. Somewhere to live.”

“That wasn’t what she needed.” he scoffed. “She needed…”

“We did not know, Haymitch.” Effie’s father cut him off harshly. “As far as we were concerned, she had been arrested and that was it. It took almost a year for rumors about what really happened to the Capitols who had been arrested to float around. The rebels shot them down. And by then…” He sighed. “The war was an electroshock for Elindra. She realized just how important we were to her. She loves her daughters, you must understand. I do think she thought Effie would come back after a week or two… I think she was trying to give her a lesson by turning her away… In her mind, Effie would come back, we would find her a proper husband and we would put all this nonsense behind us. She never expected Effie to stay in Twelve with you.”

“You don’t know your daughter.” he declared coldly. “Never made the effort. And that’s sad ‘cause she’s really worth knowing.”

Tadius’ jaw clenched but he didn’t outright dispute the point. Maybe because he knew Haymitch was right.

“Capitols are starting to speak out about what happened to them during the war under Snow’s regime.” Tadius said. “They want to be heard. President Paylor seems to be favorable to that, she has been… She has been good in dealing with the Capitols but there is a strong opposition, people who would like us to remain the villains and who would gladly make second-class citizens of us.”

“She’ll sort it out.” he dismissed. “She’s a good woman.”

“She is a better President than I expected.” the man granted. “But that is not… Has Effie told you about a certain conversation she had with her mother recently?”

He made a face. If Effie’s father was talking about the conversation he had accidentally overheard through the baby monitor… “Look…”

“Elindra was frantic when she came home from that lecture.” Tadius said in a rush. “She piled clothes in her suitcase without properly folding any or asking for the maid’s help. It took… It took me a long time to calm her down enough to make sense out of what she was saying…”

“Tadius.” he cut him off but the man didn’t seem to be able to stop.

“The things that man said…” the Capitol shook his head. “When I learned Effie had been hurt, I… I was furious naturally  but I thought I had made my peace with it because she seemed so much better now but… The things that man said, Haymitch… I need to know…”

“No.” he interrupted firmly. “You don’t. ‘Cause if she wanted you to know, she would have told you.”

Elindra had been better in not prying.

Tadius though, he had the determined look of a businessman who wouldn’t take no for an answer. “She does not need to know you told me.”    

“Yeah, I don’t keep secrets.” Haymitch scoffed. “That’s not how we do things.”

“What if it was April?” the Capitol snapped. “Could you live without knowing if it was April?”

Haymitch rubbed his face, almost relieved to see the familiar slope leading to the Village. That wasn’t a question he had ever entertained and he had been happier that way.

“It’s not fair what you’re asking.” he argued. “We’re… We’re friends, you and me, but she’s my wife and I won’t betray her trust.”

“I am not asking you to betray her trust.” Tadius insisted. “I am simply asking you to give a father some peace.”

He chuckled bitterly. “There’s no peace to be found there.”

“Most of the Peacekeepers have been released, do you know this?” Effie’s father asked. “A case was made that they had simply been soldiers obeying orders. They tried and executed senior officers but the others are free. How many of those who hurt my daughter are living a peaceful life in whatever District they chose to hide in, Haymitch? How many?”

Snowball bumped against his leg, probably sensing his distress. He crouched to pet the dog, hiding his shaking fingers in his fur. He had been doing much better in the last few days but, suddenly, he was craving a drink again.

“I killed him.” he said slowly, in a quiet voice that didn’t carry very far.

“I beg your pardon?” Tadius frowned.

“When we arrived at the prison, the rebels had just taken it. I had been looking for Effie for a while, we didn’t know if she was even there, I just… I don’t know.” he shrugged. “That guard… The moment he saw me, there was no shutting him up. The Peacekeepers had surrendered, they were supposed to be safe from immediate repercussions but that one…” He closed his eyes and he was back there. The smell of powder in the air, the smoke that came from the still fuming breach in the wall… The Peacekeepers parked in one corner of the courtyard and the rebels walking around in their grey uniforms, trying to figure out how to sort through the prisoners… Some had been Capitols, some hadn’t… There had been no quick way of deciding who was an ally and who was a foe. The silver lighter in the man’s hand, the goading, the details…. He had often wondered if the guard had wanted to die or if he had just been that sick. Torturing people for a living didn’t make for sane people, probably. “I killed him.”

“Was it painful?” Tadius asked.

“Oh, yeah.” he snorted bitterly. He had unleashed his inner demon for that one, the beast he had carefully kept contained since his arena… He had let it lose on that man. “The things he claimed to have done to her… And he wouldn’t shut up… He wouldn’t…”

Snowball licked his face with a small whimper and he blinked, coming back to reality. He had been griping the dog’s fur far too tight and he petted him in apology. He was rewarded with a forgiving bump of his head.

“Good.” the Capitol hissed. “I abhor violence, you must understand, but there are circumstances. I wish I could have done it myself.”

“It doesn’t matter, you know.” he sighed, standing up and clicking his fingers so Snowball would stick close to his leg. “Revenge. Doesn’t change anything.”

Tadius didn’t look convinced by that but Haymitch supposed that it was because he had never killed before. He couldn’t understand.

“Was she raped?” It was a horrified whisper, probably the Capitol’s greatest fear. It had been his too once upon a time, before he had realized what they had done to her was maybe equally as bad if not worse.

Haymitch started walking because he couldn’t talk about that standing still. It filled him with too much rage…

“Don’t think so.” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Always said no. But…” He hesitated. “If she was, she won’t tell me. She thinks she needs to protect me.” He shook his head. “I really don’t think so though. They probably threatened her with it but it wasn’t their kind of sadism.”

“What was it, then?” Tadius insisted. “You said too much now. I won’t tell Effie and I won’t tell Elindra. But I need to know, Haymitch. I cannot lie awake another night and wonder what was done to my little girl.” Imagination was sometimes worse than the truth, he understood that. He had spent months in Thirteen thinking about what they had been doing to her. The Capitol grabbed his arm just as they walked through the iron gates. “She told Elindra they took her humanity away. I thought that meant she had been… If it was not sexual assault, then what?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at the broken fountain in the distance.

“She didn’t tell me everything. She told me some. Peeta and Jo said a few things. There’s stuff I pieced together from her medical files.” he admitted. “Can’t promise I’m right about everything.”

“Tell me.” Tadius demanded again.

“Let’s sit.” he suggested. He waited until the Capitol man was sitting on the edge of the fountain – to his obvious distaste because it would leave stains on his already dirty pants – to talk. He paced. There was no way he was sitting through this. He paced back and forth in front of the man. “From what I understood, it started with pretty basic stuff. They arrested her, roughened her up, scared her… When she didn’t give them any information, they stripped her off her clothes, wig and make-up and forced her into a prisoner uniform. They taunted her.”

“Because she has always taken pride in her beauty.” Tadius surmised.

“Yeah.” he confirmed. “It’s standard interrogation tactics. I don’t think it took too long for them to understand she didn’t know anything. They kept on taunting her, telling her I didn’t really…” He shook his head. “They wanted her broken so they could use her to get Peeta and Johanna to talk. They didn’t call her by her name anymore, she was… She was Abernathy’s bitch. They punished her if she didn’t answer to that name.” He licked his lips and buried his hands in his pockets because they were shaking too much. “They tortured her in front of Peeta and Johanna. Whips, knives, fists… You name it, they used it on her.”

Tadius took a sharp intake of breath and Haymitch wondered if he was going to be sick. He had been sick when he had found her. As soon as he had been sure the doctors were taking care of her, he had staggered to the closest bathroom and he had thrown up.

“The victors were rescued.” her father scowled. “Why wasn’t she…”

“Because Katniss had never thought of putting her on the list.” he scoffed. “As far as the girl knew, she was chilling at home with one of her awful blue cocktail…” He shook his head again. “She was on my list but we didn’t know she was there. They had moved her before we infiltrated the Center.”

“But surely they had no use for her once the victors…” Tadius argued.

“That was the worst part, I think.” he interrupted. “Everything else… She’s so fucking strong… She would have bounced back quicker but that… They moved her to a high security prison. They tossed her in a cell…” He kicked hard at a stone on his path. “Shit, that cell was so small… She couldn’t stand. She couldn’t…” He stopped for a second. “There was no window. No light at all. They kept her there, fed her once in a while, never acknowledged her directly, only took her out when they were bored and needed some distraction…” He rubbed his mouth. “They left her to rot. Literally. The stench… When I opened that door, I thought she was dead. I really thought…”

He closed his eyes and stopped his pacing, taking a moment to ground himself. He was in Twelve, in the Village, Effie was home with their daughter. She was safe. She was alive.

“I see.” Tadius’ voice was weak. “Is it… Is it everything?”

“Being in the dark so long… She had a fit when I carried her out.” he whispered. “The light… She struggled… I hurt her. There were so many injuries… I tried to be careful but I hurt her… She passed out…”

“I hardly think that was your fault.” her father remarked, still sounding like he was going to be ill. “Why was it kept a secret? Why…”

He stretched his neck, watching the blue sky overhead.

“Same reason both sides targeted victors.” he shrugged. “They didn’t want martyrs. I just wanted to protect her. She was… We didn’t know if… She was insane, Tadius. She was hysterical for days. Every time we tried to take her off sedation, she screamed and screamed. It got better once she could see properly again but… She wouldn’t let anyone touch her. She grew panicked every time someone came too close… She started clinging to me after a while but we didn’t know if it was because I was in her room the most and I had become familiar or if it was ‘cause she recognized me. She wouldn’t talk. She wouldn’t…” He clenched his jaw. “It took weeks for her to become herself again. She had lost herself in that cell, had locked herself outside of her mind, I don’t know…”

He had cried the day she had said his name for the first time. He had gone back to his room, closed the door and just… let it all out. There had been so many dead, the previous months had been so awful, he had been so scared of losing Katniss and Peeta, of losing her…

“I was against her staying in the Capitol in the first place.” he said. “She needed to. For the boy. And then… Then, she wanted to prove it to herself she could, I guess, but I knew if she failed she would crash and burn.” He swallowed hard. “The first days she spent here… I kept waiting for her to do something stupid… The kids saved her. She wanted to be strong for them. She kept saying they needed her… The kids. I’m pretty sure that’s all that stopped her from trying to kill herself. And you had turned her away. If she hadn’t had us… If she…”

He stopped talking when he realized silent tears were rolling down Tadius’ plastic pumped cheeks.

A part of him felt bad for the man because he genuinely liked him, another rejoiced because he had been desperate to give them a piece of his mind ever since he had opened his front door on her almost two years ago.

“She will tell you it doesn’t matter what your family did to her.” he continued. “Maybe she even thinks it because she’s too used to being treated like second best to her sister. It did matter. Keep your excuses about your wife’s behavior ‘cause nothing is ever gonna justify that to me. I’ll never kick my kid out and I’ll never let her down. Never.” Tadius nodded slowly like a scolded child. “Effie moved on. She forgave you. That’s fine with me. But I’ve told Elindra once and I’m gonna tell you now… I’m tired of nursing her broken heart every time one of you fucks up. Hurt her again and I will kick your ass.”

That was supposed to be Tadius’ speech. The ‘don’t hurt my daughter’ speech. It was ridiculous and painful he had to break a ‘don’t hurt my wife’ speech to her own father.

He stormed off because he wasn’t sure how to end that conversation. He was unsettled, angry and upset. Thinking back to that time… It never did him any good.

He hadn’t expected Tadius to catch up just as he was turning their front door’s handle.

“I am happy she found someone who loves her as much as you do.” the Capitol man stated.

Snowball prevented him from answering that by pushing the door open and dashing inside with a joyful bark, leaving Haymitch no choice but to follow or raise questions.

The kids were gone. Effie and her mother were having tea – in proper teacups and saucers he hadn’t even known they owned, unless it was Elindra’s doing – in the living-room.

Haymitch made a beeline for the baby who was lying on his wife’s lap, drooling a little around her pacifier. She was waving her arms next to her face, letting out sharp little cries from time to time that meant she wanted attention… He had attention to give in spare.

He picked her up carefully and pressed a kiss to her head, snatching the cat ragdoll from the end of the couch where it had been abandoned to make it dance in front of her face. She let out more of those little sounds that he was certain meant she was happy and he gradually relaxed.

He hadn’t been aware of the tension that had followed him in the room until Elindra cleared her throat. “Did you have a nice stroll, dear?”

“It was very informative, yes.” Tadius answered in a somehow clipped tone.

Haymitch declared he was taking April upstairs to change her diaper, even though it really didn’t need changing, and ran away before anyone could ask him how the stroll had been. He settled on the rocking-chair in the nursery and hummed the familiar lullaby that always helped her sleep.

It was fifteen minutes before Effie managed to escape her parents to check on him.

“Did you have a fight with Father?” she asked, clearly confused.

“No.” he denied. And then sighed, reaching for her hand. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Not… now.”

He wasn’t going to lie to her.

Maybe Tadius could keep secrets from his wife and his daughters but that wasn’t how Haymitch wanted to do things.

“Are you alright?” she insisted, brushing April’s soft blond hair. Haymitch hoped it would turn out to be curly. Just like her mother’s. “If he said something that upset you…”

“I’m fine, Princess.” he promised.

She relented and went back downstairs. He did too after a while, mostly because he was hungry and he didn’t want to miss dinner – and neither did April. The moment Effie made it clear she was going to breastfeed her, the Trinkets made their escape.

It was a relief.

Effie rolled her eyes once they were gone and reclined more comfortably on the couch before unbuttoning her silk shirt.

There would be no perfect moment so he sat on the coffee table and toyed with his wedding band, making it turn one way and then the other.

“I hope you are not thinking of taking it off.” she teased. He hadn’t been aware he was doing it and he looked up guiltily. It made her frown. “Alright. Out with it. What happened between you and my father?”

Haymitch took a deep breath, his gaze darting to April. “It might upset you.”

“I will tell you if I need you to take her.” she retorted. “You are scaring me.”

“It’s nothing big.” he promised and then made a face. “Well, yeah, it’s big. But not that big.”

“Haymitch.” she hissed in a warning tone.

“Your father asked questions and I answered them.” he said, rushing the words out. She looked puzzled so he clarified. “Questions about the war. Questions about…” He averted his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, that’s your story to tell but he started saying ‘what if it was April?’ and, yeah… I would like to know so…” He winced. “He needed to know. He was imagining stuff and…”

“Did you tell him everything?” Her voice was faint but she looked lucid enough.

“Pretty much.” he confessed. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded slowly and then stared at April. “I don’t care if he knows. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Are you sure?” he hesitated.

“That lecture my mother went to? That man who is speaking out?” she said. “He is brave. I wish I was that brave.”

He moved from the coffee table to the couch, lifting her legs and placing them on his lap so he could sit with the two of them.

“You’re brave, Effie.” he stated. “I’m so proud of you…”

“Yes, I think you proved that this morning.” she grinned. “Why, the whole District knows just how proud of your family you are.”

It wasn’t exactly what he meant but he accepted her deflecting and shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “Perfect baby, perfect wife. I did good for myself. I’m allowed to be proud.”

She laughed and he delighted in the sound.

It sounded like hope.

[iwatobi-swim-club-imagines-blog]

Old Fanfiction Post!

Since I have so many old, unfinished fanfics laying around, I figured I’d post one every now and then, and see if anyone’s interested in them. If there’s some attention, I might make a full -length version, so be sure to tell me if something interests you

With that said, here’s the first in this kind of post (series?):

Sitting up on the long-dead electric poles, there was a nest. He thought about pointing it out to his friend, but shrugged it off. A bird nest was nothing unusual on these poles.

It seemed the birds, like their human counterparts, were untroubled by the plague man had brought upon itself.

“Looking at the vultures?” Makoto set his bag down, laying next to his friend.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think they like being up that high? Seems kind of scary to me.”

“Of course.”

“I guess they are birds. They’re pretty impressive, huh? Building such a big nest up that high.”

“They don’t build nests.”

“Huh? But they have a nest up there.”

“They use the abandoned nests from other birds.”

“Huh, well you learn something every day... You wouldn’t happen to know any other world-shattering vulture facts, would you?”

Haru shrugged.

“Do you think that they’re pretty?”

“Beautiful,” Haru muttered, staring up at the mother bird.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about birds anymore?”

“I got the feeling you weren’t.”

“Hey, you don’t have to flatter me. I’m-” Their conversation was interrupted when one of the birds, who had been looking over the edge of the pole, began tumbling to the ground. It held out its fuzzy wings, but they were no use to the chick. Makoto jumped to catch the bird.

Haru heard something crack upon the bird landing in Makoto’s hands, and flinched instinctively. It seemed to have fallen on one of it’s wings.

Why even try to catch something like that? It had fallen so far, it had to be dead.

“It’s okay buddy,” Makoto cooed, sounding too much like a mother bird.

“Makoto, I don’t think that’s...” But when his friend turned around, the bird stared at him, head cocked, beady eyes blinking as if it hadn’t just had a close brush with death.

“How is he still...”

“Alive? It’s a miracle, I guess.”

“Well just leave him here, then. Birds are good parents, I’m sure-”

“Come on! Look at him! Besides, if he broke his wing, what can they do for him?”

“It will heal.”

“But he’s still growing!”

“Look, we have enough to worry about without you having a pet. Leave him.”

Makoto wrapped the bird in his shirt, standing up carefully. “I’m a Vulture, too. I’m not leaving one of my own behind.”

“But...” Haru had to relent at that. It was the first time Makoto had treated his identity as something other than a curse making him a monster.

“Fine. But I don’t want  to have to care for him.” Of course, Haru would be the one gathering the thing food. He sighed at the thought. The last thing they needed was an extra mouth, but at least it made Makoto happy. Even if it would only be a matter of time before a feral cat or owl stole it away. Besides, what’s the point of a bird that can’t fly?

“Alright then, it’s time to get moving to the next town. We’ll need to find more food and supplies if we want to survive the winter.”

“So, what should we name him?”

“Do you even know it’s a boy?”

“No, I suppose... Alright, what do we name them? Something gender neutral, then...”

“It’s a bird, it doesn’t care. I mean, it’s not even one of those birds that can speak.”

“Well, he can still hear.”

“And as long as you put food in his gullet, he doesn’t care what you say.”

“Oh, I think he fell asleep...”

“Great.”

Makoto sighed. “Fine then, what do you want to talk about?”

“What we usually do.How are we going to survive the winter?”

“If we found a settlement, it wouldn’t be-”

“A settlement that’ll accept the both of us? Fat chance. You haven’t exactly gotten warm greetings in the towns we’ve passed through.”

“Then, why don’t you-”

“No. Never.” He spoke with the intensity and force he did any time Makoto brought ‘that’ up.

“Come on, it doesn’t mean leaving me to die. And I’ll be less of a burden....”

“Yes it will be a death sentence. Do you think the people you’re talking about are going to cut up your food for you, cook it? It’s not that kind of place. And-” he turned around, staring at his friend with glaring eyes. “Don’t ever call yourself a burden again.”

“A-alright.”

But, as bravely as Haru could talk, he wasn't sure he could deliver. The snow would provide a sort of refrigerator, sure, but for how long? They needed a generator, but the chances of finding one? As picked over as all the towns they had found so far were, he doubted it.

Tokyo was too violent, and too far anyway. Besides, that’s where all of this started, it wouldn’t do any good to go there.

And... Basically any large city was filled with violence, especially towards Vultures. Which only left small towns, which could easily go against Vultures, or full of Vultures. Or, if they were lucky, empty.

Haru pulled out his map, orientating himself to face North.

“The next town if a few miles this way... There’s a road, but it’ll be shorter just to go through these woods.”

“But, night is coming...”

“Yeah, and we haven’t found any food for you all day. Come on, let’s go.” Seeing the reluctant expression, Haru sighed, and grabbed Makoto’s free hand. As they ducked into the woods, a car passed on the road.

“Do you think that’s...”

“Not worth the risk, that’s all it is. Come on, we don’t have any time to waste. You got a nap back there, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He was silent for a long time, occasionally checking on the fast asleep chick.

“Haru... What happens when you can’t find any food for me?” His voice was like that of a small child.

“Then I’ll go through heaven and hell to find more, okay? Now shut up about that.”

Makoto sighed. It wasn’t a real answer. Unrealistic, and for someone like Haru to say something unrealistic, the situation had to have been bad. Of course he knew the situation was bad, his waning strength and hurting stomach told him that much.

There was another question, always gnawing at him, worse than his hunger, but he didn’t dare ask Haru.

‘What if it starts to take you, too?’

“Stay here.” Haru pointed inside an abandoned building. The place had been stripped clean, but there were only two entrances- a front door and a back door- and Haru figured it was the best they would get.

“Alright... Good luck.”

Haru gave Makoto’s had a last squeeze before letting go, hurrying off into the small town.

Once again, Makoto sat in a corner, feeling like trash. If only he weren’t here, if only he died or they got separated, Haru wouldn’t have to always do this. Of course, Haru would never tolerate talk like that. Still, the thoughts were there, all the same.

He gently unwrapped the baby bird. He wasn’t happy to be woken up, and started crying after a moment.

“Hey, it’s okay, quiet down...” Makoto stroked the bird gently. “Haru’ll be back in a little bit with food... Until then, let’s get your wing fixed up, okay?”

He took the injured wing into his hand, and the bird started squirming, cawing pitifully.

“I’m sorry, it’ll be okay.” He set down the bird on his backpack, pulling a handkerchief out of one of the pockets.

“Now, just need a stick...” He found one outside, broken off a pine. The birds cries were louder when he left, and he hurried back to it.

The bird cawed the entire time he put on the makeshift cast. Once he was done, they quieted down.

“Hopefully, that’ll work.”  The baby stared at him, expectantly.

“Just wait a little, I’m sure he’ll be back in no time.”

But no time turned into half an hour, an hour, and eventually Makoto fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Haru went from door to door in the town. He knocked before entering, not particularly wanting to be met with a baseball bat wielding survivor.

He didn’t encounter anyone that was still alive, for all his caution. He stumbled upon a few corpses, badly decomposed.

Rooting through what appeared to be an old woman’s home, he found a collection of fine china and silverware.

“I guess she won’t be needing these.” He placed enough for the two of them in his bag.

He checked behind the house, hoping the woman had a vegetable garden. Any food she might have had long since expired, or been carried off by animals or humans.

He rooted through what had been a garden long ago, but found no domestic crops. A few of the wild plants were edible, though, and he satisfied his hunger with them.

In the bedroom, he found a container with vegetable seeds. A great score, once they found a place to settle down, he could plant them in the spring.

But that was for him, and in the future. He had to find food for Makoto, now.

A few houses down, he found what he was looking for. He pulled out his axe, tied a handkerchief over his nose, and got to work.

Something nudged Makoto in the arm. A plate he realized.

“Oh, hey.” He took the plate from Haru, realizing just how hungry he was. “Been awhile since we ate off this, huh?”

“I guess. I found a few chickens, think that guy would want any? I... Don’t want it to go to waste.”

Makoto smiled. “Is he such a waste now?”

“He will be when there’s not more than enough food. I say we cook him.”

“Hey! No eating babies, we agreed on this.”

Haru rolled his eyes. “Fine. Hand him here.”

Makoto scooped the bird up with one hand, passing him to his friend.

“Think of a name for it yet?”

“No.”

“Good, I don’t want you getting too attached.”

“How can I not? He’s a vulture.”

Haru sighed, giving the bird a small strip of the meat. He gladly gobbled it, head bobbing up and down.

“What can he do for us?”

“He could bring us carion!”

“I don’t exactly like eating roadkill.”

“But what if he finds... You know...”

“Ah... I guess that’s good enough to keep him around. Think you can teach him to track out humans?”

Makoto flinched at the word. “I... Maybe? Either way, it’s promising.”

“And he’s quieter than a dog, I suppose.” Haru tore another small piece of the animal flesh off, giving it to the bird. “I guess he is kinda cute.”

“See? I knew he’d grow on you.” Makoto finally started his food, reluctant as always. He tried not to think of what it was, but as always, failed. You’d think he’d be used to it by now...

Haru finished far before him, and set his plate on the floor.

“I’ll go outside and get cleaned up while you finish. There’s a well next to one of the homes. If you get in trouble, call.”

“I know, you don’t have to tell me every time.”

“Well, if anything happened to you...” Haru shook his head, leaving through the doorway.

Outside, he pulled up a bucket. The water was dirty, and had insect larvae squirming in it.

He sifted it through a cloth, getting it clean enough, before boiling it. He filled up his and Makoto’s water bottles. It would enough to last them for a few days- a week if they rationed it carefully.

With that out of the way, he rinsed off his bloody clothing. It fell apart in a few places, and he sighed, giving up. He’d just have to find a new set in one of the homes.

After looking around longer than he would have liked, he found himself a blue jacket and jeans, grabbing a larger set for Makoto.

He cleaned as much dirt and blood off himself as he could manage.

He glanced over himself in the mirror. “Good enough.” He was worried about not getting sick, not looking good.

He hurried back to their shelter. Makoto was still finishing the last bit of his meal.

“No leftovers...” Haru frowned. “We’ll work something out tomorrow, then, I guess.” He threw his friend the clothes. “Get changed into this, your clothes are filthy.”

“Oh, I guess they are.”

He stood up, pulling off the tattered long sleeve. You sat, sorting through your bag.

“Say, Haru, what if we just stay here?”

“Why would we do that? There’s not enough food for you here.”

“Where will there be? You said it yourself, to find enough for me, we have to constantly be on the move. But we need to stop somewhere for the winter. You just have to accept it, I won’t-”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’ll keep you warm all winter, then. It can’t be helped.”

“Haru, you can’t... I won’t make it through winter.”

“Shut up!” Haru stood, pushing Makoto back. “Why are you always like this? We will survive. It’s what we do.”

“It’s what you help me do.”

“You’re so stupid.” Haru glared at his friend. “I wouldn’t be here without you either. I need you.”

“But for what? I just follow you around, and take your time and energy because I’m too weak-”

“I need you.” His expression softened, eyes glazing slightly. “I need you so much, you idiot.”

Makoto was taken aback by the sudden change.

“I mean...” He gave up on the argument with a sigh. “Right, sorry.”

“You can’t help it, that’s fine. Besides, it’s kind of charming.”

“Huh?”

“Oh nothing.” Haru pulled away, wiping his eyes. “Nothing, shut up.”

Makoto relaxed, smiling. “Sure.”

Haru pushed him again, before sitting. “Forget that, alright?” Makoto sat next to him. He wanted to talk more about it, but then, he guessed there were more important things.

Still, he had to say something before it was too late.

“That thing better start carrying its own weight soon,” Haru said over his shoulder.

The vulture, somewhat recovered, had perched himself on Makoto’s shoulder. He still couldn’t fly, although he made an attempt every now and then.

The sun was near the middle of the sky, and Haru set his bag down, sitting down a few meters from the road.

“If any cars come-”

“Duck into the cover, I know.”

He handed his friend a bento box, although it only had one ingredient.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t give him any until you’re full.”

“So he’s gone from it to him, then?”

“Just eat.”

Makoto glanced at the bird on his shoulder. “You heard him. Why don’t you go find a rat or something to snack on?”

He only cawed in reply.

“Say, how do you feel about Akachan?” Baby.

“Ka! Ka!” The bird replied enthusiastically.

“Alright then, that’s it.” He held up a hand for Akachan to step up on, and set him on the ground. “Go on, find something to eat.”

He only pecked at the ground. Makoto figured he would find the bird something after he finished his meal. He wasn’t as hungry as he was yesterday, but Haru had started walking faster with the threat of winter coming, and he needed more and more food these days.

He ate everything in the box, leaving nothing for Akachan. After cleaning out the bloodstains as best he could, he put it in his bag.

Akachan had wandered a few feet away, and busied himself with the ants in the dirt.

“Hey, they’ll bite you.” He urged him back on his hand. Pacing around the area Haru had left him in, he couldn’t find anything. But after a little while, Akachan leap off his hand, fluttering to the ground without grace.

Well, vultures never really did have grace. Still, it was clear he wouldn’t be flying anytime soon.

He buried his head in the grass, coming up with a lizard. Before Makoto could take it to break up the meal, the bird swallowed it whole.

“Well, guess that takes care of that.” He picked the bird back up, absentmindedly scratching under the feathers on his head. Bits of the soft fluff came off as he did so, telling Makoto he was molting.

“Hey, soon you’ll get better feathers. Excited about that, Akachan?”

The vulture grabbed Makoto’s shoulder with his beak, climbing up with some difficulty.”Hey, that’s not an answer.”

“Having fun with your buddy?” Haru stepped out of the trees, his tote bag filled with plants.

“His name’s Akachan!”

“That’s stupid. He won’t be a baby for long.”

“But he’ll always be my baby.”

Haru shrugged, pulling his burner out of his backpack. “Whatever, name him what you want.”

The smell of frying plants repulsed Makoto, no matter how much seasoning Haru added to the “stir fry.” He wished he could smell it the way Haru did, the way it was meant to.

Haru had offered him a bite, once and only once, when they were young. He had seen the pained expression Makoto wore in the moment, and never made the mistake again.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Haru never made the same mistake with him twice.

Once he said he liked his meat prepared a certain way, it was always prepared that way, no matter what. Once he said what made him uncomfortable, Haru did everything in his power to ensure that never happened again. That he would never have to find his own food, or see it before it was placed neatly on a plate in front of him.

It made him feel weak and useless, of course, but he appreciated it. But if his need to eat ever got in the way of Haru’s, well, he liked to think he wasn’t too much of a coward to off himself.

Or, if he ever had to eat someone who wasn’t dead.

He shivered involuntarily at the thoughts, and Haru moved closer when he noticed it.

He appreciated the gesture, but the pungent sell of the cooked wild vegetables made him nauseated.

“Sorry.” Haru set the bowl away. “It’s not that cold out here.”

“Maybe I have a cold or something.”

Haru frowned. “You’ve never been sick before. I guess I always assumed Vultures couldn’t get sick.”

“We’re immune to one virus. I’m I don’t think it works the same way with other illnesses.”

“We’ve just been lucky then. Nothing to do, I suppose, except keep you warm.  We can’t afford to slow our pace, we have to reach the next town.”

“What’re we gonna do there?”

“Find out if there’s people. Hopefully not. If there is, we take as much food as we can and head back. If there isn’t, we settle down there. It’s getting too late to keep moving, I underestimated how early the real cold would come.”

“What about a generator?”

“We can always keep warm with fire.” Haru shrugged. “Won’t be fun, but we’ll make it.”

Makoto nods. “We’ve made it this far, a little more cold can’t stop us.”

“It looks like it’s going to be worse than usual this year. Which is good for keeping meat cold, but not so much for finding it. I-I don’t know, if this time...” Haru shook his head. “Makoto, you should join a town of-”

“No!” Makoto’s voice was near violent, and surprised Haru. “Never, you know what they do. I would die before I joined the likes of them.”

“That’s not very wise, I would much rather you take your own life into account.”

“But they kill people like you! How could you suggest I join them, Haru?”

“Because I care about you, I want you to live.”

“What makes my life more valuable than the people I would have to kill to survive?”

“The fact that I love you.” Haru closed his eyes, leaning back. Makoto’s mouth went dry. Of course Haru loved him, they had been friends since they were children. But the way Haru said that... it felt different than friendship to Makoto. Almost like Haru felt the same way about Makoto than Makoto did about Haru, which would be very bad.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else to Haru.

“Hey, Rei look, a bird.”

Makoto started at the sound of voices. Akachan played in the snow, a few feet in front of him. A wall prevented him from seeing who was talking, and, he hoped, them from seeing him.

“Hardly uncommon, come on we should get going, I have a bad feeling about this place.”

“But look, he’s not flying away! Come on!”

Footsteps approached, and Makoto hid himself as far in the corner as he could.

The strangers approached, and for a moment Makoto thought they wouldn’t notice him. But then the taller one glanced up and saw him.

“Nagisa, step back,” he said in a tone that Makoto didn’t like.

“Hey, he doesn’t look harmful.” The blonde turned back to Makoto. “Is this bird yours?”

Makoto nodded numbly. Should he run? But they had him cornered. If only Haru were here, Haru would know what to do.

He recoiled when the blonde took a few steps closer. “Say, you’re a Vulture aren’t you?”

He didn’t know how to answer. If he said yes and they were humans, they might kill him. If he said no and they were Vultures, the same.

“It’s okay.” Nagisa kneeled down, smiling brightly. “You don’t have to be scared. I'm a Vulture too. Do you need help?”

“Nagisa, that’s enough. Do I need to remind you what happened to the last person we tried to help?”

“N-no, I don’t need it,” Makoto managed. “I’m fine... On my own.”

“Are you sure? You look kinda skinny.”

“He would never let starve, Makoto muttered quickly, before he realized what he said. “I-I mean, no, I can find food on my own...”

“It’s fine.” Nagisa stood up, with a puzzled expression. “But you just said you were alone. Who is he?”

Makoto shook his head. “Nothing.” He held an arm out, becoming Akachan to him.

“Come on,” Rei chimed in. “He said no.”

“We can’t. He’s like me!”

“There are lots of people like you that you don’t want to help.”

“But not like him, he’s all alone”

“Stop, you two.” The pair froze, and Makoto jumped up the moment he saw Haru.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back!”

“Get out of here,” Haru ordered the two.

“Hey, this is our base! You can’t just tell us to get out. Look, we don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Haru unclipped his bloodstained axe from his belt. “If you don’t want any trouble, then get out.”

“Haru!” Makoto ran forward, tearing the weapon out of his friend’s hand. “If they’d wanted to do any harm, they would’ve when I was alone.”

“You can’t trust anyone.”

“Maybe I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

Haru’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you know what they are?”

“One’s a Vulture, one’s a human, just like us.”

Haru looked at the two suspiciously.

“Umm, I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Nagisa said, stepping forward. “But I like looking out for my own kind. You won’t find any bodies here, my friend and I already stored them all away.”

“I guess we should have counted on this,” Haru replied. He wrenched his axe back from Makoto, and put it in his belt. “We should get a move on then, while it’s not snowing too badly.”

“Hey, wait! We can share with you. If you try anywhere else, all the food will be buried.”

“I’m not sure about this, Nagisa...” Rei said from behind his friend.

“Neither am I,” hissed Haru, but Makoto silenced him.

“You’d really do that?”

“Of course!” Nagisa replied cheerfully, and with the agreement, neither of their partners felt like disagreeing.

Haru followed the two back, sulking, and with a hand over his axe. Makoto felt bad about agreeing to something when his friend had expressly warned against it, but he felt Haru was being too cautious. Hadn’t he said earlier he couldn’t feed Makoto?

Makoto dropped back next to his friend.“If you want, you can go to the next town. But he was right, by the time you get there all the bodies will be buried.”

“I know,” Haru said, refusing to look at Makoto. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Well, you’re not alone there. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Haru sighed. “No, you’re right. If you had starved because I was being stupid, I... I don’t know.”

“These guys don’t seem too bad. Really, they’re just like us.”

“Yeah, that’s what I don’t like about it.”

He didn’t have to say anything more.

The “base” was a small, sea blue colored house.

“Isn’t it kind of obvious someone’s living here?” Haru asked, glancing over the home. A garden was visible from the front of the home, and a pen with chickens stood out in the front yard.

“And so what? Hardly anyone comes here,” Rei answered. “If someone does, either Nagisa or

myself approaches them, depending on if they’re a Vulture or not.”

“Let’s get inside, I’m freezing!” Nagisa unlocked the door and rushed into the house.

“Wait, don’t turn the heater on!”

Makoto looked to his friend, then took his hand. “It’s gonna be alright.”

“Isn’t that what I usually tell you?”

“Sometimes things change.” Makoto cupped Haru’s cheek with one hand, tall enough to stare down in his friend’s eyes.

Or... More than a friend?

He leaned down. The kiss was soft, and for a moment he thought it was perfect. Then, haru winced slightly, and he stepped back, wiping his lips with a glove.

“Oh, god, I’m, I’m sorry, I forgot...”

“It’s okay.”

Makoto bit his lip, before turning and hurrying inside the home. How could he have been so stupid?

Nagisa grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him into a room left of the main door.

“What was that about?”

“H-hey, you were watching?”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“That had nothing to do with you.”

Nagisa crossed his arms, pouting. “You need to tell him how you feel.”

“Why? It’s not news to him.”

“See? This is why what just happened did. You two are obviously terrible with communication.”

“We are not.” Makoto turned to leave the room, but Nagisa pulled him into a chair. He stood in front of him, blocking escape.

“Now, listen here. Just because civilization ended is no excuse to have bad relationship skills.”

“What are you talking abou-”

“Ah- who’s the one dating here? Look, you need to go talk to him about what happened. Work out something. Rei and I had the same problem.”

“And what did you do?”

Nagisa giggled. “An old word thing, brushing my teeth, and mint! It doesn’t taste very good, but I don’t have to eat or anything. Covers the taste right up.”

“It doesn’t make you sick?”

“Strangely, no. Rei started spurting some science nonsense about cold receptors and sharpened taste senses, I dunno I didn’t catch it.”

“Well, thanks I guess.” If nothing else, Nagisa had given him the space and mind to realize he did have to go speak with Haru.

“Anytime! We gotta look out for each other, right?”

“Whatever you say.”

He found Haru in the back garden, mulling over a frozen pond.

“H-Haru?”

His friend looked to him, then back at the ground. Makoto knelt down beside him.

“About back there-”

Haru had his arms wrapped around Makoto in an instant, and Makoto’s breath hitched in his throat. After a moment of hesitation, he hugged Haru closer.

‘Definitely not just friends,’ he thought, feeling like he would melt away any instant.

After a few moments, Haru let go, staring at Makoto with wide eyes.

“So, what does this make us?”

“Who cares about old world labels? I love you.”

Haru smiled. “Me too.”

Makoto could have sat out there, in the cold, forever, but soon his fingers started going numb, and he figured in the house would be slightly warmer.

Inside, Nagisa was happy to direct them to the spare bedroom. The bed, a twin, would be cramped, but it wasn’t like they could afford to sleep apart with the cold.

“I’m afraid it’ll get a bit warm in the summer, but that’s a while off.” He waved the two goodbye, winking at Makoto.

“What was that?”

“O-oh, I talked with him a little  while ago. He tried giving me advice, but it looks like I don’t need it, I guess.”

“Knew you for half an hour, and tried to give you relationship advice.

“Come on, be fair. He was only trying to help.”

Haru set his duffel bag on the floor. “I say we take stock of the food inventory, see if there’s actually enough like they say.”

In the kitchen, the two found Rei making a meal.

“I can cook for you, if you want,” Haru said, looking at the meal. It didn’t look too bad, but certainly not as good as his cooking.

Rei looked at him doubtfully, but shrugged. “Guess that’s one way to help around the house.” He stepped aside, and Haru immediately went to work.

Makoto pinched his nose when the meat started to cook. Fish, he knew. Haru had caught some once when they were in a beachside village. He was glad for Haru, at least, it had been one of his favorite foods.

“Umm, Haru had mentioned wanting to see the food stores, to see if there was enough for the winter...”

“And if there isn’t?”

“I’m... Not sure. Maybe we could go to the next town, or...”

Rei shook his head. “You could carry one back at a time.” He tapped his glasses, something of a habit for him. “The two of you probably eat two pounds of meat a day, but being stuck in the house all winter, I imagine one and a half should suffice. We have five bodies, about 750 pounds in all. And with about 100 days of winter in front of us, I say if we get creative with the preparation it should all be fine. But when the snow thaws...” He shook his head. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

Makoto nodded, feeling relieved. “I didn’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Actually, if you want to help out too, perhaps you could help Nagisa and I switch out the snow in the freezer. We do it about twice a day, I don’t want to take the risk of losing any meat.”

Makoto repressed a shiver at the thought, and nodded. “Of course. Anything else you could use my help with?”

“Actually, yes. Are you any good with animals?”

He led Makoto to his and Nagisa’s room, then to the bathroom. On the meticulously clean counter was a ten gallon aquarium.

“These are mosquito fish. Most died off when the cold came, but I saved the biggest females and males and put them in here. Once it gets warm, they reproduce at a rapid rate. Not a terribly substantial food source, but the best we have in regards to fish here. Any ocean fish would die from the water change, and any domestic fish have gotten eaten long ago by now.

“Now, these guys are pretty hardy, caring for them should be easy enough.”

“Can akachan have some when the spring comes around?”

Rei looked doubtfully at the vulture. “I don’t imagine he’d be too interested in them, but sure.”

Nagisa, as it turned out, adored the bird.

He threw the juvenile a piece of coyote meat.

“He sure warmed up to you fast, huh?” Makoto smiled at the scene.

“Obviously! He had someone who raised him well.”

Makoto leaned back in his seat, enjoying the occasion Akachan wasn’t pestering him for attention. “I guess so.”

“You’re the mama bird, then?” Nagisa held out a hand, and the vulture flapped up clumsily to it. “Not a great flier, though.”

“He hurt his wing when I found him. And, he’s never had much reason to fly. I don’t think he even realized he’s a bird sometimes.”

“Cause he’s not a bird, he’s my new buddy!” Nagisa said proudly, wrapping Akachan in a hug. The vulture squawked in protest.

“Haru’s always telling me I should let him be free. Sometimes I have to wonder...”

“Huh? Why isn’t he free with you?”

“Well, he’s a bird. He should be flying, shouldn’t he? Traveling miles and miles through the air.”

Nagisa shrugged. “How do you know he would be happy like that? Did you ask him?”

“Of course not, he can’t talk-”

“In a way. If he really wanted to fly, he would be trying harder, wouldn’t he? If the sky were so important, he would be reaching for it every day. Yet he’s happy here with you. You aren’t making him unhappy by keeping him here. You’re making him unhappy by thinking that you aren’t enough for him. Right, Akachan?”

Makoto noticed the tears in Nagisa’s eyes, but didn’t say anything. “Something tells me we’re not talking about birds anymore.” He said, wistfully.

“Something tells me you can see right through me.”

“It’s not that hard. We’re pretty similar.”

“So you feel it, too?”

“Like a burden? LIke I’m holding him back? Like, if I didn’t exist or ran off, he’d finally be able to be with others... Other humans?”

Nagisa looked up to Makoto, and shook his head.

“I mean, I feel it too, but... Oh, nevermind.”

Whatever Nagisa didn’t want to talk about obviously caused him a lot of pain, and Makoto didn’t want to push the issue.

And, besides, another part of him told him he didn’t want to hear whatever it was.

“What are we supposed to do?” Makoto sighed.

“Vultures were supposed to become the new branch of humanity.” Nagisa patted the bird in his lap. “Instead, we became hunted by it. There’s no cure for it, you know. No vaccine, not like a vaccine would help anyone here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rei told me all about it. In the town he came from, there were plenty of people who knew exactly what happened sixteen years ago. A disease, a horrible, flesh eating disease that threatened the human race. They tried vaccening adults, nothing, Children, nothing. Fetus’s? It worked. Except, we came out like this. Monsters.” “Don’t say-”

“There’s no sense in hiding from what you are, is there? We’re the trial run, the experiment. I bet in other places they have solutions that don’t involve a race of cannibalistic monsters, but here? Nobody wants to come here, not with us. Ever wonder why it’s been 16 years and nothing's changed here? They’re waiting for it to die out, for everything to die out. For us to.”

“But, why not...”

Nagisa stood up, wiping tears away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Makoto stared at him. It had never occurred to him the winter would be difficult in this way.

But Nagisa’s words brought a thought to his mind, one he had always avoided.

Why would he do when everyone died? When the Vultures ate all that there was to eat?

He had felt that, time and time again. Japan might have been a big country once upon a time, but the populator had been devastated by the disease. Sure, for some, the disease took a long time to kill, for others, their death came about by other means. But eventually, those stragglers would run out.

Another, far worse thought, clawed at him, once again. What would he do when the disease got to Haru?

The next few days were quiet. Preparations for winter weren’t complete. Rei went on about “diet variety” and how necessary it was for him and Haru. Makoto thought of telling him about how Haru had eaten fish for a month straight once, but he didn’t have the spirit.

He didn’t much have the spirit for much more than chores. Haru certainly noticed, but didn’t say anything. On one hand, he wanted to talk about his fears, but he didn’t want to burden Haru with them.

Packaging food, hunting for gasoline, changing out the snow... Everything piled into a monotonous rhythm.

Then, one day, the snow had piled up too quickly for him to open the door. He sighed, sitting next to it. Knees wrapped up to his chest, he still shivered. As he calmed his quivering breathing, he noticed the conversation coming from the room next to him.

“-can’t mean.” It was Haru.

“I can’t say for sure if it’s true or not. But Nagisa lived in a colony of them, and once they reach their twenties, it would seem-”

Something hit the wall, shattering. Makoto flinched.

“Bull shit! WHat about the plans we had? What about-”

“Haru, calm down. I know, it’s difficult news. But if you’re not strong, how do you think he can take it?”

He... Makoto knew they were talking about him.

“How can I be calm about this? Can’t you do something, anything-”

“If I could, wouldn’t I have already? Why do you think we got this house, tried to make some sort of lives for ourselves? They weren’t built for this. They weren’t built for anything, you simple have to accept that.”

“And let him just die?” “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Aren’t the others doing something, anything-”

“It’s not anything we can stop. Maybe it we had outside help, but you know they wouldn’t be willing.”

Makoto stood as Haru opened the study door, and his friend’s expression turned from anger to surprise.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry...”

“Why? You’re the one, who, you know.”

“I mean, a Vulture aren’t I? The best thing I can do for humanity is die..”

Haru glared at Makoto for a moment, before slapping him.

“Don’t... Say that.”

Makoto rubbed his stinging cheek. “But it’s true. You know it, too. Soon there will be nothing more for me to eat. Already, we’re finding less and less people, how long do you think it’ll be before people stop dying?”

“As long as I’m alive, you are to,” Haru swore, sincerity blazing in his eyes like Makoto had never seen before.

“Don’t say that! I’m fine with my fate. So what if I don’t live as long as a human? At least I got to be with you.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“How am I supposed to say it? Haru, you’ve done a lot of things for me, but you can’t save me from this. I say you and Rei go to a human inhabited city after the winter, and-”

“No! I’m not leaving you. And I’m not going to go make nice with the people that would have you killed, either. I’ve said it since I was a kid. We’re in this together, forever. Right?”

“Haven't you done this long enough, though? I'm tired of holding you back, keeping you from other-”

“I don't want anyone but you! I don't need anyone but you.” His shoulders hunched and despite the bangs that fell over his eyes, Makoto could see tears. “I need you. I love you.”

“You’re starving, you have to eat something!”

His hand trembled as he looked a the axe Haru had handed him. The handle was stained with blood, the blade carefully cleaned.

Soon, it would be stained with blood again, though. It was so fruitless of Haru to try and keep clean in a place like this.

He slowly placed a second hand on the weapon. How could he swing it and off himself?

It might take a while, but he could never ask Haru to do it. Just like he could never to sacrifice something off his living flesh. Dead flesh was okay, they didn’t need it anymore. But he was alive, and here you needed every bit of you.

He might have needed it as well, but he didn’t want it.

He stood up, still trembling, and lifted the axe, aiming for his stomach.

“Give that,” Haru snatched it away, and for a hopeful moment he thought Haru would finally do it, end him quickly and move on. There was no reason for both of them to suffer, after all.

“Making me do everything,” Haru grumbled, grabbing a stick off the ground.

“Wait, no!” He lunged forward, but his lover only kicked him back, raising the axe with one arm. The first swing make it only a quarter in his flesh. Blood splattered everywhere around him, but he heard only a small grunt from Haru.

Second swing. It cut in the bone, which produced a greater sound from Haru, but not a scream.

Breaking out of his daze, Makoto rushed to his feet, but by then the third swing had been swung.

It was a hideous sight, a thousand times worse than the sight he had become accustomed to.

“Damn it, why do you have you have to do this? Just let go of me already!”

Haru picked up his arm from the ground, and slowly approached Makoto, holding it out.

“No, no, we’re bandaging you up first,” Makoto said firmly.

“Only if you agree to eat this.”

“Fine, fine!”

Haru smiled weakly, a sight he would have usually appreciated. Not he lived in a panicked state. He set the stump in snow, while he ran inside to grab bandaged, cloth, something.

Alcohol, too, he recalled. He had never known much about medical care before Haru taught him. Vultures had stronger immune systems, they didn’t bother with such things.

But humans, humans were fragile, breakable things. To care for them, you had to learn to care about such things.

He hurriedly grabbed everything he needed, and rushed outside. The snow around Haru was stained red, and Makoto’s heart bled at the sight as well.

“Stay awake, stay awake,” he said rushed, as he poured rubbing alcohol on the wound.

Haru flinched. “Remember who taught you how to care for the sick,” he replied weakly.

But hey, he replied at all, and Makoto convinced himself that was a good thing.

“I’m pretty sure staying healthy doesn't involve cutting your arm off.”

“Or starving yourself.”

“I’m just a Vulture...” He forced himself not to repeat the thought that had so infuriated his lover before.

That had been the final straw for Makoto. Once Rei was on the scene, looking after Haru, Makoto snuck off. The snow was deep and hard to navigate, but it would be best for him to catch hypothermia and die anyway. Haru’s arm was stored away in his bag but he was still far to nauseous for that. If he ate it now he would only vomit it back up.

He ran through the snow for what must have been hours, lungs burning with every breath. When he finally stopped to regain his breath, he was somewhere unfamiliar. Buildings surrounded, but he had no idea where he was. Sitting by the side of the road, he opened his bag. He slowly unwrapped the arm, closing his eyes. With each bite, he despised himself more and more, but he so hungry, he had no choice but to continue eating. It would be last thing he’d eat for the next week.

He had hardly stood up when someone was running to him.

“Damn it,” he muttered. Before he could so much as turn away, he was grabbed.

He knew this was a risk, a big risk, but he was so hungry.

He bit at the hand of the person who had grabbed, feeling ashamed but primal at the same time.

“Hey, buddy, calm down. You gotta be a vulture.” The stranger slowly lowered him to the ground, surprisingly gentle. Still, he held Makoto's frothing mouth to the ground.

“Oi, Sousuke get over here! We got someone starving over here!”

Footsteps approached, and suddenly logic made it through his clouded mind. Strangers, strangers holding him. What were they going to do? He was a Vulture.

At least if they killed him, he wouldn’t have to live with this hunger, he supposed.

“We don’t have much food to spare.”

“Yeah, lots of hungry mouths to feed, right?”

The other sighed, sounding exasperated. “Fine, I’ll get him something small.”

“He’s starving!”

“You’re not supposed to feed starving people much food right away. That’s people, at least, who knows about Vultures?”

“Fine, fine just grab something. Preferably torn off the bone.”

Makoto had a crazy thought of asking them to cook it, but any food he could digest would taste the same to him at the moment.

After a few moments, the person sitting on top of him released him.

“Sorry about that. Feel a little better?”

He nodded numbly, sitting up. He stared at the ground as the other person talked.

“We’re Vultures, so there’s no reason to be worried. There was a whole community of us here before, but a group of humans came by and wiped us out. So, now it’s just the two of us. Food's Starting to run a bit thin, but hey there are a few human communities nearby.”

Makoto was too exhausted to find fault with those words, simple nodding along.

(Please note that this story is old, and therefore, not up to my current quality standards. I did some spell checking, but in the spirit of this series, I don’t want to change these stories too much. Besides I’m lazy. Please let me know if you’d like to continue with this story!)

[smokeybrandreviews]

Ruthless Calculus

I addressed this a while ago with my top ten Marvel villains post (which you can see here: http://smokeybrandreviews.tumblr.com/post/172603958899/one-bad-day) but, after seeing Infinity War for a third time (I am doing my very best to single-handedly get this flick to two billion) i wanted to address the opened ended conclusion on that list. Thanos is definitely on that list and is in definite contention to take that top spot. It’s wild how developed Brolin’s Thanos came out considering he’s only had one film of development. Infinity War’s Thanos is legitimately Marvel’s version of Ledger’s Joker and that’s profound as to me. The creatives over at Marvel, created a film that is essentially part one of a climax, to a series of films a decade in the making, but till developed one of the most complex antagonists in the history of cinema. I just compared him to The Dark Knight’s Joker but i’ve heard others throw him up there with Darth Vader or Hannibal Lecter and they’d be right. Thanos is just that good and the way the character came about is a legitimate narrative miracle.

Origins

Thanos is a beast in the comics. He’s a nihilistic god bent on destroying half the universe for the sake of impressing the personification of Death. He stronger than the hulk, heals faster than Wolverine, and can manipulate energy on a level of Captain Marvel. Dude is OP as hell and that works in the comic narrative but in cinema? Not so much. I was concerned how the MCU would portray Thanos because he’s basically a mustache twirling, bond villain with just as convoluted designs on the Marvel comic universe. Thanos is the benchmark for villainy in the comics so how do you translate such a ridiculously over-the-top presence into film? You don’t.

The core motivation of Thanos’ aggression is to impresses a girl. That sh*t was corny then but it works because comics are generally corny. Comic fans, though passionate about their hobby, tend to be pretty corny, too. I should know, i’m a comic book fan and i have been accused of corn on more than one occasion. Films, however, have a much wider audience. They have to toe that line to be accessible to a much wider swath of an audience while simultaneously being true to the character. The MCU found a very creative way to ground Thanos in a conceivable reality outside of his Death crush. His motivation to essentially cull have the universe as a means to enrich the lives of those left behind, was absolutely brilliant. It makes his goal feel real while paying homage to his ludicrous comic book origins and instills a plausible sense of stakes within a movie where aliens, gods, super-soldiers, powered armors, a tree, and a raccoon, clash in a hidden world superpower, tucked away in Africa. That sh*t is ridiculous and takes me to my next point...

Writing

Yo, Thanos is one of the best written antagonists i have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. The trick that was pulled off here is the fact that Thanos isn’t the villain of this story. He’s not the antagonist. Sure, in the greater sense of it all, he is the big bad, the bogey man, the lurking danger but, as a character, he’s just a guy who absolutely KNOWS a truth that is undeniable. He’s seen the end result of his theory and it’s utter devastation. He knows what’s at the end of that tunnel and has struggled, for what i assume to be centuries, trying to divert that inevitability. And this is the story about how he goes about that. The Thanos in Infinity War, is written like a PROTAGONIST. This is HIS story and everyone else, all of the heroes we have come to love and support, are HIS antagonists.

We’ve had a decade and nineteen films to establish our heroes, to endear them and their world to us. What would the MCU be without RDJ’s Tony Stark, Chris Evan’s Cap, Chris Hemsworth’s Thor, or Sam Jackson’s Nick Fury? Even newcomers like Boseman’s T’Challa or (my personal favorites because he’s always my personal favorite) Holland’s Pete, have come along and stolen fan’s hearts. Hell, for a long time, the only “villain” in Hiddleston’s Loki, sat on high, as the benchmark of MCU character development. So to create a threat in Thanos, who not only destroys all of that earned investment in a matter of minutes, is f*cking profound and to do it while creating a character that doesn’t feel cruel or misguided, is absolutely amazing. Thanos is written as the hero of this tale, while simultaneously, being the MCU’s goddamn apocalypse.

Scale

Now, when you have such a long, meta universe, you need one helluva a third act. You need to establish a threat great enough to put the entirety of a universe on it’s heels. Thanos does that almost effortlessly. The writing establishes his righteous mission and very human motivation but the scale of his strength is proven time and time again. Those opening scenes where he essentially retires The Hulk; a being that stands equal to Thor and, more or less, dog walked Loki, got his lunch sacked in a matter of seconds by the not-so-Mad Titan. All of this, after Thanos essentially decimate half of the remaining Asgardian pantheon! The cherry on top? Equipping a second Infinity stone on his gauntlet, a feat not even f*cking Celestials could accomplish, so far as we know. But it didn’t stop there. Thanos cut a swath through the MCU, single-handedly defeating half or the Guardians, Tony Stark, Doctor Strange, and my boy, Spidey - only to then teleport to Earth and decimate an army of heroes, killing vision in the process, on his way to a well earned victory. Dude took an Stormbreaker to the chest, from a rejuvenated and revenge-driven Thor, and still had the willpower to snap his fingers. There has never been a menace on this scale in the MCU and he caught everyone with their pants down, and these are cats who have stopped arms dealers, an alien invasion, and a goddamn AI takeover.

Vision

This massive, chaotic, amalgamation of creativity would be a real mess, if not for the vision of Kevin Feige but, more so, the Russo brothers. These cats entered the MCU with a bang, fundamentally altering how these stories were told. Their films are systematically the best in the MCU. Ryan Coogler is trying to give them a run for their money but he’s only got one under his belt while James Gunn is a distant second with his Guardians franchise, but the Russos hold the title of the best as we stand right now.The Winter Soldier gave us our first, compelling, villain in Peirce and their follow-up, Civil War, raised the stakes of an entire universe while grounded this shift in a very personal, very intimate tale between friends. This narrative wizardry essentially derailed the entirety of Joss Whedon’s more comic book camp, and grounded an already rich universe in the realities of our world. And to do that same thing with a giant, purple, space tyrant is profound.

Whedon laid out at the end of Avengers was a villain who would be a massive punchline to the entirety of the MCU. I lost my sh*t when we saw Thanos for the first time but, knowing the character, i understood he was going to be the biggest one-and-done situations in cinema. Dude is a ridiculous, overpowered villain, with a ridiculous motivation. The Russos took this framework and created a proper tragic villain, a villainous protagonist so to speak, that did the entirety of the MCU journey justice. The Thanos that the Russos envisioned so much more than his caricature beginnings and they guided us toward that vision with such care and expertise, by the end of the film, after he snapped his fingered, you almost identified with him. To have such a clear understanding of where this character was suppose to go is testament to why these cats are in charge of the overall MCU. They real good at they jobs, manq.

Casting

All of this, everything i just covered, would mean nothing if the person cast to represent Big Purple couldn’t carry the wight of this character. SO much went into making Thanos feel real, feel plausible that, if you have a performance even slightly lacking, it blows everything. The Joker wouldn’t have been the same without Heath Ledger. Lecter wouldn’t have been the same without Hopkins. Wader wouldn’t have been the same without Jones. Thanos wouldn’t have been the same without Brolin. Seriously, that scene with him and Gamaroa in his throne room was brilliant. Keep in mind, Thanos completely CG, you still feel every ounce of his emotion as Brolin desperately appeals to his favorite daughter. The geyser of anguish thrust upon his heart when he realizes the key to unlocking the Soul stone was written all over his face. His exchange with young Gamora in the Soul world after his victory was heart-wrenching. This man, and i mean that. This. Man. Sacrificed everything; his home, his empire, his children, and the one person he genuinely loved, for the greater good of the universe, as he saw it. Thanos broke himself in an effort to fix the ill of the universe and Brolin portrays that frailty with such skill, such nuance, you forget that this character was literally created as a means to reset continuity in a bloated comic book universe. The MCU Thanos is a real, live, emotional, force and Brolin’s skill in his craft, made that happen. He took what laid out before him and distilled one of the greatest performances i have seen in years. And this is after Killmonger and The Vulture stole the show in their respective films.

Thanos is a game changer. He is the new benchmark for a villain, not only in the MCU, but in cinema as a whole. This is a character that showed up, in full, for three hours and destroyed everything we know about the decades long universe Marvel created on screen, and he did it while being one of the most accessible, most understandable, most vulnerable antagonists in movies as a whole. You feel for him as he systemically rends your favorite heroes asunder. You identify with why he sets out to do the unthinkable. Even as he genocides half of the goddamn universe, you kind of want him to see that sunset at the end. Thanos committed a true atrocity, yes, but he paid a real f*cking price in the process. Dude might as  well be a martyr at this point. We understood his motivations. We could do the math that got him to that cruel sum, even if it came across as obvious error to anyone with a heart. More to the point, he made that equation work. He punched his theory into fruition and, ultimately “saved” the entire universe. Thanos won and the best villains almost always do. The Joker won. Lecter won. Vader won. Thanos. Won. And he did it by being a real character - by being a real, complete, person with flaws and fear. That, i think, deserves the utmost recognition.

So, is Thanos the greatest Marvel villain out there? You bet your f*cking ass he is!