#but i just find it bizarre that i instantly recognized them like?

[jrwiyuri]

Why is it that can’t I recognize my own beloved mutuals but I can recognize the Neil Gaiman /neg blog poster

[lovverletters]

I've been scrolling through your blog, you've got some pretty cute stuff. I loved the serial killer piece. Food for thought, just a little treat- yandere hacker. Serially online genius who falls in love with a small time content creator, and would go on revenge streaks to try and "protect" His darling from trolls

ERROR404˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

A/N : i miss 707. have some yan hacker instead.

T/W : yandere theme, mentions of doxxing, mentions of harassment, invasion of personal information

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

" Thanks for the 20 dollar donation 'L3M0NP1E' !! "

[name] thanked the donor with a grateful smile. Being a smaller content creator, receiving donation is quite a rare feat especially with the small size of audience they currently have.

They had only begun making content a few months ago out of boredom under the name of [alias name]. It started with them posting videos of gameplay commentary video, that by a stroke of luck gained traction.

Viewers find their awkward and bizarre commentary that's paired by theirㅡ admittedly horribleㅡ skills in video gaming entertaining and stucked around for more.

[name] was grateful of their supportive and positive followings, they've heard countless horror stories of small content creators being harassed by trolls due to lack of moderation.

They're thankful of the fact that they have yet to encounter any and hope that it'll stay that way.

" Chat, should I go in that room? I feel like if I do, the killer would corner me like a bully asking for my lunch money " [name] turned to read their live chat to seek for the viewer's opinion.

" I see plenty of 'Yes', if I die here it's on you okay~ " They snorted before moving their character to enter the sketchy room only to be killed by the killer the moment they step foot inside of it.

" What did I say, chat?! Like a fucking loser I not only got my lunch money stolen but I was also given a wedgies by that motherfucker! " They hysterically laughed as the chat goes crazy.

It took them a moment to settle down from their fit of laughter and resumed the game. As they were playing through it and talking to the viewers, they noticed a familiar name popping up on the fast paced chat.

edgelord404 : hello. I had a business to attend to earlier, what did I missed?

A smile bloomed on [name]'s feature seeing the message in their chat. This particular viewerㅡ edgelord404ㅡ was one of their viewer they recognized from their early days when the view count barely cracked a hundred on their postings.

" edgelord404 hey! welcome to the stream, we're trying to break into this old granny's bank account and steal her retirement funds "

" Not in real life of course. Don't be silly! " They clarified by emphasizing their words.

edgelord404 : sounds illegal.

edgelord404 : I can help. I got experiences.

[name] began wheezing from how much they laughed. True to their username, edgelord404 loves to spout the most edgy and emo things. They have to admit, it did lights up their days from edgelord404 attempt at humor.

As they were about to respond to edgelord404's comments, they noticed the chat being flooded by less than pleasant comments. They immediately recognized it as to be the work of internet trolls trying to get a rise out of the creator they're harassing.

Before they could attempt at defusing the situation, all of the comments instantly disappeared. [name] and their viewers were confused but the latter assumed that [alias name] got everything under controlled and thought nothing of it.

peachesandcrem : what just happened💀

edgelord404 : you were saying?

" Uhㅡ yeah. Anyways as I was sayingㅡ "

That was odd. Huh.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Saehoon leaned back against his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. He watches [alias name], his favourite content creator playing a random game they had interest in.

The stream went along smoothly until a minor turbulence appeared but nothing that he couldn't deal with. Although, he isn't entirely done with the trolls who had invaded his beloved's chat and tried to cause a ruckus.

He had encountered [alias name]'s page a few months ago, right when they had just started with zero following. Saehoon decided to watch them to kill some time but didn't anticipated for him to fall for them instantly.

It could've been the fact that he was the only one watching them failed at the same obstacle over and over againㅡ that it felt intimate. Their bizarre humour and commentary only adds up to their charms that made him fall even deeper.

It didn't take quite a while for Saehoon to dig up information behind the content creator whom had captivated him. Being a genius hacker himself, it is something he was used to doing on a dailyㅡ for work purposes obviously.

Within a few clicks, he has the entirety of [alias name]'s information in his palm. Such as their real name, [name]. Their location, acquaintances, friends, family, their backgrounds and even more.

" [name] .. " Saehoon uttered their name once he obtained their information. It sounded perfect, the way it rolls on his tongueㅡ they were perfect for him.

As time passes, he noticed them slowly gaining popularity and he couldn't help but feel proud of how much they had grown. Admittedly, he was somewhat responsible for pushing out their contents by messing with the algorithm.

Though, he would never take credit for their success of course, he just aided them and the rest is purely their hardwork.

Although he isn't keen on sharing [name] with others, he'd comfort himself with the thought that only he knows such intimate knowledge of [name] that none of their other viewers or fans knows.

Another annoyance that came with [name]'s success is the incessant waves of trolling that comes with it. Normally, he wouldn't care but if it involves his beloved [name]? they best count their lucky stars that he only leaked their doxxes online and not done worse.

Saehoon believed that [name] should invest in some moderator but he's aware that they couldn't afford to pay them. Perhaps he should offered himself someday, that way he could not only openly protects [name] from internet trollsㅡ he could also be closer to them.

Speaking of trolls, he contemplate on what he should do as a revenge for their pathetic attempt at harassing [name]. He'd leaked their personal information as usual of course but he's feeling quite spiteful today, perhaps he should dig up their embarassing past and posted it onlineㅡ or he could post a selfie of theirs that had never been seen before on a forum board.

They'll pay the price of crossing path with [name] and in turn him as well.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[strvberrydoll]

Rosemary

Summary: After finding out Arthur’s secret you soothe your aching heart with a nice girls night out drinking in Rhodes. Unfortunately for you your problems seem to follow you everywhere. part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link (a better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Content: angst, hurt/no comfort, nothing a girls night out cannot cure ;) grammar errors for sure :(

a/n: I know you guys all wanted part 2 to be their happily ever after but,, I crave some more angst so yeah it gets messyy !! But nonetheless our girl gets some fun with the girls and some more information about Arthur and Mary’s hush hush meetings. Let me know your thoughts about it and if you sweets want part 3 !! P.S. I recommend you listen to “Rosemary” by Sierra Ferrell while reading. It’s so so good, it also kinda inspired this little fanfic here <33 (gif from pinterest)

“G’mornin’ sweet girl” Arthur groggily whispered against your neck giving you a light kiss, the movement causing the thick hair of his beard to tickle the space between your neck and your shoulder, before rolling out of bed with a tired groan, the mattress shifting under his movements unlike your unmoving form.

After your late night discovery of not one, not two but a whole drawer full of your boyfriend’s ex-fiancé letters it was safe to say that sleep didn’t come easy for you. As much as you wanted for all of this to be a dream, to close your eyes, wake up and sigh of relief laughing about the ‘bizarre dream’ you had with your Arthur while cuddling under the soft protection of the thick bed sheets, reality decided to slap you right in the face instead, leaving you awake all night trying to hold onto all the broken pieces of your heart.

During your sleepless night you wandered to yourself your next move. Should you just throw everything into his face revealing to him that you knew that the ‘sorry fellow’ of the letter was, in reality, his ex fiancé and yell at him as soon as he wakes up or wait and find out more before confronting him ? Considering the fact that you couldn’t properly read, you just had Mary’s name on various envelopes as evidence. Maybe they’re catching up on each other’s life. Just harmless conversations.

Although your heart screamed at you to just confront him first thing in the morning you knew that with what little evidence you had you would just cause a scene. You needed to go deeper into this story. As much as I’d hurt you needed to know for sure if you wasted three years of your life going after a man whose heart had already been claimed a long time ago.

You brushed off Arthur’s affection muttering a quick tired ‘morning’ before stretching your limbs out and leaving the tent, ignoring the man behind you still sitting on the bed looking at you with a puzzled expression at the lack of your usual loving greeting. Even though you two had the biggest tent in camp, aside for Dutch, it felt claustrophobic being in there with him. You needed space to think, to breathe, to not hurt.

The fresh breeze of October grounding you from your spiraling thoughts as you walked towards the pot of coffee on the fire near Pearson’s tent.

“Well look who’s here in all her glory” a voice, which you recognized as Karen’s by the thick accent, basically yelled at you over the nearby round table.

“You look like you fought a damn herd of buffalos Miss. What the hell are you an’ that old man doing in the night” she cackled at the last sentence gesturing you to join her at the table. Seated on her left Tilly shook her head sending you a sympathetic look.

“Are you already drunk ? Why are you so loud for, it’s seven in the morning” you grumbled in your mug of coffee as you took a sip, instantly cringing at the burnt taste that filled your mouth before sitting down with them.

“I’m happy to inform you that I haven’t had a sip since yesterday at lunch” she smiled smugly lifting her chin up at her achievement.

“That’s ‘cause we haven’t seen Miss Grimshaw yet. Bet you by the end of the day you’d kill for a little bit of booze after that woman.” Tilly said fixing the buttons on her yellow blouse, her words reminding you of the long day ahead of you, making you mentally shiver. It wasn’t exactly that you dreaded the woman, after all, you all knew she cared about you in her own twisted way but her attitude didn’t help with making the camp’s chores more tolerable. It seemed like the warmer weather of Lemoyne was putting everyone on edge.

After a few minutes of Karen and Tilly arguing on what was the worst chore to do around camp Abigail and Mary Beth’s dainty figure joined your small group, Mary Beth’s eyes briefly locking on yours before greeting the other girls. You couldn’t quite understand the meaning behind that look but something told you that at some level she knew something about the letters. That possibility made you nauseous to even think of because it would mean that Mary Beth, the girl who always put a smile on your face, the one who always had your back ended up covering for your cheating partner. You needed to know the truth and you needed it now. But before you could even mutter a word to her Karen called your group to attention.

“Gals, I don’t know about y’all but if I stay just one more moment in this godforsaken camp I’m gonna lose my mind.” her statement gaining a few nods and grunts among your group. With the unnecessary gunfight in Valentine leading you all to move further away from the West and this absurd play at sheriffs in town, tension was undeniably high around camp. “I heard from a handsome fella I met in town that there’s going to be some famous lady from Saint Denis singing at the saloon this evening. Heard also there’s going to be some rich folks from Saint Denis with her. Are y’all thinking the same thing I’m thinking ?”

there was a moment of silence as Karen looked at everyone with gleaming eyes.

“Hells know I need a break from this. I’m in” Tilly was the first who broke the silence followed by Mary Beth, the two girls earning a big smile from Karen.

“I don’t know, I have Jack and,” Abigail never had a chance to finish the sentence as Karen immediately interrupted her, telling her to leave Jack with Hosea for a few hours at not make a fuss. It’s not like you were going to be there all night, plus god’s knows how that woman needed some well deserved time for herself once in a while.

You couldn’t lie, the idea of going out after weeks of being in the same spot with the same routine every day excited you quite a bit and if on top of that you add some good ol’ pickpocketing then consider yourself sold. You were going out this evening no matter what.

“Are y’all lazy do-nothin’ girls done chit chatting !? There’s so much work to do today and you’re all sittin’ there doing nothin’. This generation is unbelievable. Get your asses off to work. Now.” The unmistakable trill of Miss Grimshaw's voice shook you from your comfortable seats putting you all to work for the day. As you got up from your seat you tried your best to ignore Arthur’s piercing gaze on you.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

The sun was slowly setting over flat iron lake, the sky tinted with a mixture of oranges and pinks. You passed your day washing the camp's dirty laundry, scrubbing dry blood and dirt from the old fabrics of each camp’s member clothes. Managing more or so to avoid Arthur throughout launch, the task not easy as he sat down with you and wouldn’t stop talking to you or asking you questions. You tried your best to not straight up ignore him, answering with monosyllabic answers to his questions. Eventually, he understood you weren’t having it, his hands leaving their place on top of the one you had flat on the table. An annoyed expression evident on his face. Why all of a sudden were you ignoring him ? His mind working miles an hour to find out what he did wrong but failing at the task. You seemed fine last night so what the hell happened to make his darling so distant from him.

When you were getting up from the table to put your dirty dish in the washing bin he tried to stop you, his calloused hand delicately taking your wrist. His confused face met with your tired one. He studied your face almost as if the secret to your behavior was hidden through your mesmerizing features. He tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come up, leaving both of you staring into each other eyes, his aqua ones filled with turmoil, before Uncle's voice burst your bubble calling Arthur for work.

After that, you only saw him half an hour later mounting on his horse before riding off.

You definitely needed this night with the girls.

Putting on your last finishing touches to your lipstick you met with Tilly and Abigail near the horse-drawn carriage that Lenny swiftly stole from a nearby town.

“Hello ladies,” you faked a bow lifting your skirt up by the sides the action causing the other two girls to laugh “ready for this eventful evening ?”

“Well of course I’m ready” Tilly replied mimicking your fake posh accent before getting on the carriage helped by Lenny who was your driver for the night since he also had some business to attend to. You waited for Karen and Mary Beth before going off to town, the drive to Rhodes filled with light chit-chat and silly songs, your mind and heart already feeling at ease.

As you all thanked Lenny for the drive you looked around noticing the numerous people around you, the town buzzing with life but most importantly buzzing with opportunities to steal. Before entering the saloon you strolled through the town, Abigail and Mary Beth’s skilled hands already pickpocketing around while you, Karen and Tilly distracted the poor fellas.

Twenty dollars in your pocket and half an hour later you entered the saloon, gladly finding an empty table to sit near the stage that was occupied by a tall blonde woman in a fancy dress who you deduced was the famous singer from Saint Denis.

With drinks on the table and the sweet melody of the guitar, a light conversation about your successful operation sparked amongst your group until a man approached your table, the heavy scent of alcohol evident on him as he tried to drunkenly flirt with Tilly, ending up insulting her rather than woo her earning a slap in the face from the girl, attracting some attention to your table. Luckily the slimy man was too drunk to react and decided to wander off as you all giggled at the situation.

Round after round you all let loose getting up to dance to the merry melody of the music. Tilly standing near the table swaying in her red dress, with Karen by her side singing her heart out, already too drunk for her own good, while Abigail chatted with one of the men from Saint Denis. You shot her a wink as soon as you noticed the wealthy man making her face light up with mirth.

What an absolute fool you are John Marston.

The only two sitting down were you and Mary Beth, whose eyes never left you since sitting down. Her presence a reminder of your cracked heart. It was supposed to be a fun night at the saloon away from your problems, but your curiosity and need to be wrong about Mary and Arthur gnawed inside of you.

“Mary Beth,” you cautiously greeted her, scooting your chair closer to hers so the other girls wouldn’t hear the two of you from their nearby positions. You didn’t want any more drama to spread around tonight.

“Hi,” there was a long uncomfortable pause before she looked up to you again and started blurting everything out. “I’m sorry, I really do. I should have told you he was receiving letters from her again I just didn’t know how to tell you. When I found the first letter two weeks ago he told me he was gonna tell you. But then I saw how you reacted yesterday seeing her letter and I knew he didn’t” She took your hands in hers before continuing, her words coming out fast, the alcohol in her system making her accent heavier “Oh I’m such a fool, please forgive me, I just didn’t want to come between your relationship”.

You were taken aback by her sudden confession, you thought it would be a tad more complicated to let her open up to you about it. Hearing her point of view definitely helped you clear your mind a bit, she had a fair point. It wasn’t her fault Arthur decided to hide something like this. Your anger towards that man growing more and more. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but notice one thing.

“You said the first letter arrived two weeks ago ?” you asked her. His drawer was full of letters, it was impossible to send that many letters in just two weeks.

“Yes, then I gave it to Arthur, I usually pick up the mail but Arthur has been helping me lately, why?” you started to fidget with the bracelet Arthur gifted for your first anniversary, a small gesture you did when thinking or anxious. The dots in your mind slowly connecting.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You were about to go back to camp, everyone was on the carriage. Lenny, who had come back from his business with some intel, was back in his driver seat ready to go when you noticed you forgot your gloves at the saloon. Quickly apologizing you clumsily hopped down the carriage, your tipsy state making your movements far from gracious, giggling to yourself you walked back to the saloon to retrieve your gloves. Thankfully they were still on the table untouched.

As you walked back to the carriage enjoying the chilly weather of October from the corner of your eyes you noticed a familiar figure standing outside a building. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins or perhaps your curious nature but you turned to steal a glance at the figure.

All color drained from your face as you saw who it was.

As you saw her.

You met her just once in the past but the figure you saw was unmistakably the one of Mary. Smiling up at a man you instantly recognized.

You felt your heart cracking even more. You ran away as fast as you could, leaving pieces of your shattered heart behind as you reached the carriage, quickly hopping on.

During the whole ride, you tried your absolute best to not cry in front of everyone and ruin the cheerful mood, biting the inside of your cheeks as a distraction.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You were back in your tent when Abigail stopped by.

“Hey, I saw you earlier and you didn’t look so good, are you ok sweetie ?” she asked, her sweet voice full of concern as she put her hand on your shoulder moving it in a calming manner, the tone of her voice and her action causing you to break down in tears like a child to their mother. She quickly pulled you into one of her comforting hugs as you violently sobbed your heart out. Soft ‘It’s ok’ left her lips as she held your shaking form in her arms. Managing to let out a small ‘Arthur’ to answer her question on what was wrong.

Seeing him with Mary tonight was the final straw. You didn’t need any more evidence, you already had everything you needed. He lied to Mary Beth about the letter, he lied to you about it too, matter of fact he lied to you about everything. How could he walk around kissing you, touching you, acting all caring as if nothing. As if he didn’t have a drawer with Mary’s letters, as if he didn’t lie to you this whole time.

Your heartbreak slowly turned into anger, the more you thought about it the more your blood boiled.

“Wanna talk about it ?” sensing you calming down from your sobs she gently fixed a strand of hair behind your ear, a concerned expression evident on her fair features. You dried your tears, your hands stained with mascara. You undoubtedly looked like a mess, or at least you felt like it.

Then, a familiar sound of hooves on the ground could be heard from the entrance of camp.

Arthur was back.

“Oh, so help me God I’m gonna strangle that piece of shit”.

[ckret2]

I only ask this out of curiosity. You said Bill is a monsterfucker and humans are monsters to him. So what does Bill even find attractive in a human? (besides a complete devotion to him)

Eyes are VERY important to Bill for attractiveness, and pretty much every species on earth has really sexy eyes. Just look some up! Snake eyes, frog eyes, giraffe eyes (those EYELASHES), dragonfly eyes, tarsier eyes, chameleon eyes, cat eyes, octopus eyes... human eyes are no exception. Look at their irises' stroma. Gorgeous. Shapes' eyes just don't have weird alien features like that, this bizarre ring of delicate colored fibers stretching out around the pupil.

Plus, TWO eyes? Any freak with multiple eyes instantly wins points with him.

He thinks hair is ADORABLE. He likes ruffling it around, squishing it, running his fingers through it, etc. And it annoys humans so much, that's cute too. Bonus points for multicolor hair—a human that's started graying but hasn't finished it yet has the most interesting natural hair.

Plus, human hair patterns are pretty unique for their planet—big clump of scalp hair that for most part maxes out at over half their total height, sparse short body hair everywhere else that forms clumps around their groins, pits, and sometimes their chins depending on a hormone or two. Why is their hair LIKE that? I mean he knows why their hair is like that, evolutionary selection, thermoregulation, UV rays, blah blah, but like why is it like that? It's bizarre. Fascinates him.

In his default state Bill can see straight through the human body at all times, so he sees all their guts just as easily and frequently as he sees their external skin; there are some humans he might recognize by their bone structure or by odd organ shapes rather than by face. His species essentially has exoskeletons—that's what keeps their shapes so sharp and straight—so creatures that are bone on the inside with all their organs and muscles hanging off of it and tied in place via bags called "skin" that holds everything together is just, sooo bizarre. It looks like it shouldn't even WORK, you've got all the soft tissues on the outside clinging for dear life onto the bones and getting banged around by the natural world! Like, humans WALK upon their own flesh! Don't even have hooves! It's fascinating watching vertebrates wander around inside-out.

Those are humans' specifically "monstrous" traits that he finds specifically attractive. Humans have other traits that are monstrous (nearly literally every single thing about our anatomy), but not attractive per se, just kinda neutral; and they have other traits that are attractive, but not monstrous.

You may notice that most of the above list applies to MANY species on Earth! That is correct! Bill thinks a lot of earth species are hot. Humans are actually a 6/10 to him. He actually finds frogs the most attractive category of creature on Earth, but frogs are poor conversationalists and most of them don't even understand how kink works.

[applebinnie]

▶︎˗ˏˋ zom-baby >< ´ˎ˗

𖦹 prologue 𖦹 ▶︎next part

ᯤ zombie!Anton ᯤ

→ zombies were always known as brutal, vile creatures. You always thought they were gross and scary, especially having to instantly pulverize every zombie that comes your way can be sickening to even think of. But when you were greeted by an unwanted visitor, it didn't seem too bad. After all, what could go so wrong with a girl and a zombie?

warnings: mention of monsters (zombies!), I'm vv mid at writing and it's my first time writing in eng so please reduce your expectations to ground level 😭

💭: hi gais!! the idea came to me while I was watching the odd family and I was debating whether I should make this inspired by tof or disney's zombies bcs I LOVE both films but I decided to write this one first :') also, this isn't really a significant part, i jst dk how to begin this series so you can skip to part 1. But if you want to know more about the mc (you!) then definitely recommend reading this first!

☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎

What if the world was to plunge to the bottom, finally succumbing to the deadly virus that turns human beings into brainless, brutal, flesh eating monsters. such scenarios kept yo up at night. The idea of a dead man rising to their grave just to hunt and feed on functioning human brains has always terrified you. you always thought of the living conditions, the lack of food, water, and all that. but along with the concept of zombies is the concept of a half-zombie. They are the undead, or atleast half-dead. as you grew up, with your fear of zombies came a strange fascination to it.

Among the plethora of z-films that featured blood baths and a ferrocious amount of unwanted bites to the head, there were light, comedic z-films with a common trope: Romance.

It usually features a half-zombie, or a half-dead. Rare species of the undead that have the ability to recognize humans and restrain their appetite. You always wondered what their love interest saw in them, even thinking of giving them a kiss after seeing them mutilate and bite someone's limbs off. It was bizarre, but perhaps it's the irony of the situation that made you feel less scared of them. Zombies are gross, gooey creatures with not a single coherent thought, why would you even think of falling in love with one?

You slowly close your laptop after finishing all the work, and decided to lay back and find a nice show to watch. You grab on to your blanket, and click on a light, relaxing show. Growing up with a fascination for monster macabre can be mind-twisting, so consuming light and fun media once in while is refreshing. You were watching a film where a magic powder dust from a power petal turns any person who inhales it into a cat. It was sort of like an alarming potential apocalypse if you squint, but it happened only within the borders of a small town, unnoticed by the world. You think back, what if something like that were to happen in the real world? Who would be the first ones to notice? For sure it would be those who have keen eyes and a strong intuition, like the film's hero. But then again, there is no way something like that could happen in real life.

You are moving soon, to a place much more peaceful than where you are now, perhaps you can clear your mind, free from unwanted thoughts, or even more—unwanted memories.

▶︎next part

☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎ ☠︎︎

rlly shitty start but idk how to begin this piece (╥_╥) part 1 is much much more coherent than this, but I'm still posting this either way just because raghraghragh if you did read this sorry this took so long :( and thank you smsmsm for reading ily guys so much mwap mwap mwap (´ ε ` ) - val 🧸

[selfcestmovies]

To say that Kate Bishop was frustrated was putting it mildly.

She and Yelena had decided to join Wanda and Natasha on a "working vacation" to Kamar-Taj — the ancient, mystical sanctum in Tibet where Kate had hoped she and Yelena could reignite their blossoming relationship. Things hadn't been hot and heavy between the two of them for a while; Yelena insisted they weren't to be labeled and things had to stay casual, at least until the pace of her missions slowed down. Even in Kamar-Taj, Yel seemed fully preoccupied working with Nat and Wanda to untangle some of the Red Room's aftermath, leaving Kate "theoretically single" and trapped in a bizarre foreign compound with far too much free time.

Not to mention the BOREDOM that came with it. There was no Wi-Fi here, no decent snack food, and she had to leave Lucky at home. Other than exploring the vast compound, her days were slowly becoming excruciatingly dull. And to make matters worse, Wanda had asked her to stop snooping around the dark corners of the sanctum. She said it wasn't a place for a young woman of Kate's curiosity.

It was her ninth afternoon trapped at Kamar-Taj when Kate decided to take herself for a long run through the grounds. It would eat up some time, but more importantly, it would hopefully blow of some steam and some much-lamented tension that she had hoped Yelena would have helped her release. Being sex-less with Yelena just out of arms reach was frustrating beyond belief, but Kate knew she couldn't start seeking out other girlfriends while Yelena hemmed and hawed about the status of their relationship. Kate needed patience, but that wasn't her strong-suit.

These thoughts flooded her brain during the long afternoon jog — so much so that when she recollected her wits, Kate had no idea where in the compound she had wound up. She recognized the central library, though — a corner "fully off limits" by Wanda's orders, but surely that edict wasn't absolute, and Kate was in need of a shortcut back to her dorm.

The library was cool, too. Shelves of artifacts and mystical books with seemingly limitless magical potential. Kate took a meandering route through the dusty stacks, idly fingering the spines of some of the fancier books she passed. It wouldn't hurt to take a look into some of them, right? Or to read out loud the first line of ancient script that piqued her interest...

The swirl of violet light from the books pages made her instantly regret the impulse, but it seemed too late as the magic enveloped her — before the aura subsided, finally, leaving Kate unharmed... but not alone.

"Woah." "Woah. Jinx!"

She was standing face to face with what seemed like a living mirror, identical to Kate down to the strands of hair dangling from her messy ponytail or the beads of sweat on her brow.

"Holy crap, this is freaky," one Kate murmured, reaching out to touch the hem of the clone's sports bra.

"You're telling me," the double repeated the gesture. "So you're really me? I mean – we're really us? This is freaky."

Kate nodded, confused and entranced. "I think... well, yeah. We're both us. Both Kate."

Decoding and reversing magical phenomena was not in Kate's wheelhouse, but reaching out to Wanda for help after blatantly violating her policies seemed like a non-starter. So the Kates got to work trying to re-read and undo the script they had read from the book, to little success, so they started scanning other pages of the tome, looking into other nearby books, anything to try and find a solution.

"Look at this, um, other Kate—" it felt weird to say her own name out loud, "At least this page is in English." The clone hustled to Kate's side. "It says that these enchantments are designed to last two hours, so at least..." she cast a glance at her double, "It's not permanent. We just have to kill some time."

"Thank fucking god," the second Kate huffed. "I mean, I'm not upset that you're hear, but Wanda would murder us if she saw us like this."

"The entire Kamar-Taj army would kill us, Kate," the other smirked. "Not to mention Yelena flipping out — she thinks one of us is a disaster, let alone dealing with double."

They laughed in tandem. "I've got to say," Kate put the book down on its shelf, "Speaking of Yelena, and having the chance to finally, you know, examine myself from a new perspective," she gestured head to toe at her twin's body, "Yelena is missing the fuck out."

The other Kate smiled and raised her eyebrows. "I'd say the same thing! We're hot, Kate, no dancing around it." It was fun to finally have a chance to give voice to the thought, after it had been swirling around her head since the moment she had been duplicated. They took turns complimenting the little, superficial things about each other – they looked especially fit after just completing their 10-mile jog, plus they liked their hair, their eyes, their smile. Kate avoided saying out-loud that she liked her own ass, but she presumed the other Kate was on the same page. She had checked it out probably a half-dozen times already anyway, ever since the two had started looking through books side by side.

But when Kate bit her lip, so did her reflection. They didn't need to say it the rest out loud.

One Kate quickly checked over her shoulder down the library corridor, while the other Kate did the same towards the rear entrance. "All clear," she spoke, her voice starting to waver.

"Can you imagine if Yelena walked in on us?" The other laughed. "All clear over here, too." She swiftly closed the distance between the two of them.

The first Kate had barely turned to face the twin before the other grabbed her by her wrists and pinned her from behind to the book shelf. "Fuck, Kate," the woman whispered into her ear. She traced her hands down Kate's back, to her hips, squeezing their bodies close. "I'm so glad we're on the same page."

"Was there ever any doubt?" She asked cheekily, bucking her hips backwards against her clone's body. "If Yelena refuses to get us off—"

"I'm happy to help myself," the other Kate finished the thought, taking the chance to spin her twin's body 180 degrees so the two were face to face. "I'm gorgeous," she whispered, running her hands up the other's body.

"You could say that again," Kate cooed, leaning forward to capture her clone's lips with her own. The kiss was only cautious for an instant – both Kates concerned for that split second that the universe might implode at their touch – but the moment all seemed safe and stable, the dam broke between them. Their mouths opened wide to battle for supremacy, biting and sucking at each other's lips. Their hands were just as aggressive, finding purchase on each other's ass, then chests, then abs, all eager to explore.

"Our body—" she'd gasp. "Fucking amazing—" the other would finish.

The sex was messy and quick, but electric, each woman knowing precisely the points on the other's body that spun her quickest into ecstasy. Within just a handful of minutes, the two had fallen to the floor, their backs against the stacks of books, panting for breath, leaning on each other for support.

"Holy hell, you're good at that," Kate exhaled.

The other brought a hand to her clone's knee and patted her three times. "Right back at you Kate. That was something." She checked her phone. They still had more time to kill. "Round two?"

"Yeah," Kate raised her eyebrows. "But I think we should crack open another book first."

The first Kate cocked her head to the side before the notion hit her. "Pretty and brilliant," she smirked. "Seems like we both agree—"

"—The more, the merrier."

[questinwitchface]

Hi, would love to hear about Sam and Bucky TV 👀

From this WIP game

Hello! Thanks for asking!

So the Sam and Bucky TV fic came from a prompt from @thatmexisaurusrex posted for The Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary, and if I'm remembering right, the prompt was "Sam and Bucky, trapped in a TV" or something very similar to that, and @funsized-loser reblogged with some tags that said "Kate and Yelena and Joaquin somehow control their actions" and "Kamala is there with her popcorn." You can view that post and those tags here.

Now, I love to write Kate/Yelena/Joaquin fics almost as much as I like writing SamBucky, so naturally, I was very on board with this. Basically, I decided that Sam and Bucky are indeed going to be magically trapped in a TV, and Joaquin is going to bring that TV back to the Compound where Kate and Yelena are going to try to help him get Sam and Bucky out of it. Kamala and a couple other characters will show up later, but the way that they decide to try to get them out of the magic TV is by playing videogames on it, trying to beat the games to get them out. And, of course, I went on my self-indulgent bullshit and decided that they were going to end up playing some of my favorite videogames of all time because that makes it more fun for me personally lol. Their logic is, if they beat the game, Sam and Bucky will get out of the TV, like in the Jumanji reboot.

Here's a snippet:

Kate nods, and goes to stand next to Yelena, who’s standing in front of the couch. Joaquín joins them, and together, the three of them flop onto the couch, staring at the screen. Joaquín instantly recognizes the movie that’s playing—it’s hard to mistake Clueless for anything else, even if the two leading characters have been replaced by Sam and Bucky. “This is bizarre,” Kate says, though she doesn’t look away from the screen. To be fair to her, it’s kind of hard to look away from the screen. Sam is killing it in that yellow plaid outfit, skirt and all. “How do we get them out?” Yelena asks. “Maybe we try changing the channel?” Kate asks. “There was a remote with the TV.” “Try it,” Joaquín says, though he’s got a feeling it won’t be that simple. They flip through the channels and find Sam and Bucky starring in a bunch of different movies, but changing the channel doesn’t seem to bring them any closer to getting Sam and Bucky out. “How’d this happen anyway?” Kate asks. “Yeah,” Yelena adds, turning to look sidelong at Joaquín. “All you said in your text was ‘SOS – Sam and Bucky in a TV #WizardsSuck.’” “I feel like that pretty much sums it up,” Joaquín says running a hand down his face. “We were working this mission, and we thought it was an alien. Turns out, nope. Wizard. And when we got too close, he poofed away—” “Poofed?” Kate asks, frowning. “What does that even mean?” “It means he made this cloud of pink smoke and then when it cleared, he was gone, like some shitty stage magician,” Joaquín answers miserably. “Then I turned to ask Sam what we should do next, and where Sam and Bucky were standing, there was just this TV.” Joaquín gestures vaguely toward the TV in front of them. “Obviously they’re stuck in there—I mean, that is them, right? I’m not crazy?” “No, it’s definitely them,” Yelena says, eyeing the screen. “That is Bucky’s scowl.” “I didn’t know an animated dog could scowl like that,” Kate says, sounding vaguely impressed.

[lostsneeze]

"All you have to do, little one, is wish with all your might that the spirit would find your home as repellant as you find it." That's what the Witcher had told the frightened young girl, promising that if she could do that when the ghost next appeared, it would stop haunting her and her family at last. He had spoken the words with such confidence that she didn't doubt him, but still she shook with terror in her bed as she saw the phantom creep out from behind her closet door, even with the Witcher standing between them with his amulet held up triumphantly in the moonlight, tracing some mysterious shape in the air.

The ghost was not at all frightening at first glance, in face she was a quite beautiful woman despite her unnatural paleness and somewhat sunken eyes, just as she'd heard her great-grandmother had been in life. But upon sight of her extended, double-jointed right arm ending in a claw of overly long fingers, her malevolence became unmistakable. Still, the young girl believed in the Witcher, and she held on to the wish as he'd instructed, even as that vicious claw began to reach forward to close around his heart...

"AAAH'TSCHIIIII!"

It was not a sound the girl would ever have expected hearing from such an imposing, otherworldly figure, and before she recognized it for what it was she panicked at the sudden, malevolent cry. But as it continued, she realized the bizarre truth: the spirit was sneezing.

"Haaah'atschiii! Haxschiii! WhaHaatschii! Hhhat'tshiii! Wh-what-AAXTSCHII!"

"It's a curse, my lady. Good work, little one." The Witcher nodded back at her as she sat perplexed in her bed. "I thought it up with the help of a witch I know around here who owed me a favor. Didn't think it would work exactly like this, though."

He walked around the ghost with the air of a sculptor admiring a recently finished work, taking stock of each detail. The ghost made a limp effort to swipe at him as he did so, but she was so wracked by the relentless sneezing fit that had overtaken her that she could barely even get her claw in the air.

"Obviously, you've become extremely allergic to this girl's 'home.' Here in her room the reaction is at it's strongest; I'd guess it gets less severe the further away from the house you get. Though since I have to imagine she still considers this town a part of her 'home,' I imagine even the outskirts would be near enough to tickle your nose plenty fiercely."

"Atschii Atschiishhii AAATSHIII! Ha'XSCHII ATSHHXX-ATCHXXX-TSHXXII! HAAH'TSHXII HHHAXTSHIII!" The ghost writhed in the center of the room. She'd now been sneezing non-stop for long enough that if she were an ordinary person, she'd be in genuine danger of suffocating. But as a ravening specter of the restless damned, she neither required oxygen nor even possessed lungs in any meaningful sense. The magic allergy attack could reach literally inhuman proportions in her phantasmal body.

"Of course, if you want to continue your haunting in this state, or from very very far away, there's nothing to stop you," the Witcher continued dryly in a tone that almost suggested he was becoming bored, "Or alternatively, you could just give up your grudge against your prettier, younger, living descendants and move on to the afterlife. I know which one I'd pick, given how uncomfortable that looks," he actually reached out and poked a finger right through the translucent, flaring nostrils of the specter's rather elegant pointed nose as he drove his point, "But it's your call. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be trying to get some rest."

The Witcher knelt down on the pillow he'd requested in the girl's room, and despite the cacophony of sneezes from the furious and spasming ghost hovering over him, entered a still meditative trance almost instantly. "TSHXX-HATCHTSHII!ATSHXII!TSHII!HAAXTCHII!TTXTCHII!HAAAAH'XXTSHIII!"

After a desperate series of additional sneezes, the ghost finally melted away into the darkness with one particularly pained final blast. The young girl looked at her room in near-disbelief, shocked at the absurdly weird exchange that had just taken place. There wasn't really anything for her to do about it, though, except lie back in her bed and try to get some sleep herself.

[thefatisland]

Someone posted about this little chapter on Big Cartoon Wiki and I feel in love with it. Given how simple it is, I thought I might just share this right now (I have so much to post about on this blog, but I just keep procrastinating).

This is the 16th chapter of a relatively new manga called “How many light-years to Babylon?”, an obvious nod to the rhyme “How many miles to Babylon?”. [I say relatively new, because the manga was translated in 2020 in English, after being published in 2019 in Japan). The series is quite short and was fully completed after three years of serialization, and then posted into a single volume. Yep, a single volume for three years of content. Why? Because this manga has the specificity of having very short chapters - for example, the six pages above are LITERALY the entire chapter. 

The style of the manga might remind you of someone - or maybe you’ll simply recognize it upon hearing who drew it: Seiman Douman. Aka the author of the famous and bizarre series “The Voynich Hotel”. This manga, just like The Voynich Hotel, mixes an unusual form of fantasy bordering on the surreal with dark humor and weird comedy. 

The whole story is being simple - Bub, the bowl-haired guy here, is the last of the humans of Earth. He wakes up on a space ship in outer space - Earth has just been destroyed, and he is the last surviving human. The problem is that he has no memory of his previous life and existence, and he has no idea what happened to Earth and why everyone died... The manga is a pretty simple, straight-forward quest for Bub to find back his memory, identity and understanding the mystery of the destroyed Earth, while visiting various alien planets and galaxies, through short adventures. 

And in chapter 16 Bub (with two alien kids he picked up along his travels and other companions) stop at a planet called Cromi. They are forced to stop there because the organization in charge of the intergalactic tourism placed some planets who received barely to no visitors in special posts of “obligatory tourism”, forcing all space travellers to stop there to visit. Bub is a bit surprised as the planet seems empty... but as it turns out the Cromians and their civilization are just very, very small - so small you need to almost stick your nose to the ground to see them. Which leads to some dark humor as Bub’s companion inform him that he is currently committing a genocide by crushing billions of people and destroying Cromian cities while just walking.

As they do the obligatory tourism tour to get out of the planet as fast as possible, Bub suddenly feels “full”. And he learns, much to his exasperated horror, that the Cromian’s specialty, the food they offer to their tourists... is the flesh of living Cromians. So, while Bub doesn’t see it, hundreds, if not thousands of Cromians are climbing his clothes and throwing themselves into his mouth, down his stomach, with the hope of stuffing him. And even more! The longer he stays, the bigger Bub gets... because the Cromians are apparently very high in calory, and are almost instantly digested and assimilated by the organism. So, by merely staying there, Bub quickly becomes very fat and very round...

As you can see, it is the type of weird, bizarre, surreal and slightly dark humor typical of this manga. And I just love this little story X) Maybe this manga will get adapted into an anime somedays? Who knows. 

[whisker-biscuit]

The Lines We Cross: Chapter 6

Straight to the Top

--------------------------------- 

Fortune favors the bold - so where does that leave the rest of us? 

--------------------------------- 

The sirens had started blaring not long after the fight between Muggshot and Inspector Fox, and the latter recognized them instantly. They weren’t criminals calling for backup or store security systems going off from a break-in – they were real police sirens, which meant her team was on their way.

Carmelita ultimately decided that leaving the mobster up on the top floor was a bad idea. He was unconscious and properly cuffed, sure, but there was no telling how many other secret passages out of the building he might have already built, and she didn’t want to risk going out to meet her fellow officers, then coming back up to an empty room.

So, she decided to lug the giant bulldog downstairs.

Sly, strangely, seemed to go back and forth about helping her do so. He nodded along when she explained her plan, but the moment they went back up and he saw the man lying on the floor, he suddenly became very skittish about actually touching Muggshot. It took the inspector snapping at him to either start pulling or clear out of the way for him to reluctantly grab a fistful of the criminal’s wife beater.

The rest of the dogs in the hotel were either preoccupied elsewhere or had fled entirely, as they encountered nobody else all the way down to the ground floor. Carmelita was secretly grateful for it, because she was, quite frankly, exhausted. Then she felt guilty immediately afterwards, because those were still dangerous criminals who could do a lot of damage if left unchecked.

When Muggshot was finally sitting at the foot of the bottom stairwell, wrists cuffed to the handrail, the two spared a moment to catch their breath.

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” the raccoon said between gasps. He pulled his hood back to wipe the sweat over his brow. There was a strange quality to his voice that was hard to identify, and it took a moment for her to realize it was amazement.

“Of course, I did it! I mean…” She suddenly felt self-conscious. Not many people had ever been amazed by her in a way that wasn’t tied to a crush. “It was my sworn duty. I had to at least try.”

He shook his head and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like “suicidal.” The fox gave him a sharp glance, but he was staring too hard at the limp body of the mobster to see it. In fact, that seemed to be all he could focus on at all.

Carmelita wondered what he was thinking about.

“In any case, my team will be arriving soon, so we should probably go out to greet them.”

That, at least, appeared to jolt him out of his bizarre mood, and he followed silently after her as she walked out into the hot evening air. The way she was intensely aware of his presence was the only reason she noticed the moment he was no longer right behind her. When the fox turned, it was to see him standing just outside the entrance to the hotel.

“Aren’t you coming?” She asked, watching the way he almost seemed to blend into the shadows of the building.

“Nah. The spotlight isn’t really my thing, and I sure wasn’t the one who took Muggshot down with my bare hands.”

The inspector frowned and considered telling him that she had much more than her bare hands in that fight, but she knew that the most she’d get for her troubles were rolled eyes and a sarcastic remark.

“I didn’t do all the work, you know. I wouldn’t have been able to even find him in the first place if it hadn’t been for your help.”

The raccoon shrugged, leaning against what was left of the wooden barrier she had splintered on her way inside. “I’m fine right here. You probably shouldn’t keep your team waiting, Inspector.”

He was right, and that was the only reason she left him behind, albeit reluctantly. Crossing the bridge into the lower half of the city, Carmelita followed the shrill sound of police sirens until she finally turned a block corner and saw a group of armored squad cars making their way down the street. She waved her badge in the air, knowing its flash would be seen easily in their headlights.

Sure enough, they all slowed to a stop. The nearest one rolled down its window as she approached to reveal a pig in a United States police uniform.

“Inspector Fox!” He said. “We’re with the Utah State Police. Chief Inspector Barkley contacted us as backup to help you storm Muggshot’s hideout.”

“Thank you for the support, but that won’t be necessary.” The inspector opened the passenger side door and climbed into the open seat. The vehicles all began moving as one unit again towards the hijacked hotel. “I’ve already successfully apprehended the criminal leader. All that’s left is to capture his remaining hired men.”

The pig gave her a startled glance. “What? Really? How did you manage that?”

She could hear the skepticism in his voice; the doubt that someone as young and small as her could have possibly taken on the bulldog and won. It was a far cry from the genuine recognition Sly had shown her just minutes earlier, and she gritted her teeth in frustration.

“It wasn’t an easy fight, but with the use of my training and instincts I was able to come out on top. He’s currently restrained on the first floor of the hotel we’re heading to.”

“If you say so…”

It took a Herculean effort not to snap at the other officer to respect her word. Carmelita settled on folding her arms and sitting stiffly in her seat until the group parked in front of the hotel. As everyone stepped out, covered head to toe in body armor and weaponry, she started to lead them across the lot – and then stopped short.

Sly wasn’t in front of the entrance anymore.

She blinked and looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Painfully aware of the group at her back that probably thought she was stalling for time, the inspector took them all inside, hoping that perhaps the raccoon had simply decided to wait in the lobby.

He wasn’t there either. Only Muggshot, still just as unconscious as when she’d left. She could hear the shock ripple through her team at the sight of the incapacitated gangster as they all realized that she had, in fact, been telling the truth.

For some reason, it wasn’t as satisfying as she’d expected. She chalked it up to exhaustion-induced indifference.

“Well, ma’am, I don’t know how you did it, but I can’t say I’m not impressed,” said the pig as he came up to stand beside her. The rest of the officers were already starting to maneuver the bulldog onto an outlandishly large stretcher in order to carry him out to the waiting vehicles.

“It was really nothing,” she replied distantly, still scanning the room in the hopes to catch even a glimpse of that striped tail somewhere. There was nothing to find. “I was simply doing my job.”

No one came out to greet or confront them, and Muggshot was securely loaded into the biggest armored car they had. Most of the team began combing the streets to find the mobster’s men – those who hadn’t fled the city at the sound of sirens, at least – and Carmelita led the rest in searching the entirety of the hotel to retrieve stolen goods and look for hiding criminals.

Besides the remodeled ballroom where the fight had taken place, there were three other rooms of major interest. The first was one that had been boarded up from the outside, but all the furniture within was still intact, and they found signs that someone might have been staying there until very recently. The problem was that the bed – in fact the entire room was most definitely too small for someone of Muggshot’s stature to fit in. Additionally, there were freshly-installed bars on the window; whatever this room had been meant for, it certainly wasn’t for the mobster.

It was a specific oddity among regular oddities, and they all made a note of it for later.

The second room was Muggshot’s bedroom, filled to the brim with guns and ammo and stolen loot. The third was his office – ransacked to pieces.

Inspector Fox and her team stopped short at the sight. Papers were scattered all across the desk and the floor. Binders had been pulled off the bookshelf and left haphazardly open, clearly dropped wherever the intruder had been standing once they had stopped looking through each. A wall safe had its door swinging open idly, completely empty, and the window overlooking the city had been shattered.

“Wow…” Said one of the other officers. “Was Muggshot getting ready to flee cause he heard we were coming?”

Carmelita opened one of the desk drawers with the butt of her pistol. Countless stacks of money sat tightly packed inside. Her detective mind was whirring, trying to connect the dots to the puzzle before her.

“I don’t know,” she replied, looking around the room again. “He was more surprised than worried when I showed up to apprehend him – it might’ve been one of his men who did this.”

“Okay, but who bothers with a safe when there’s plenty of cash to steal if you’re planning to run?”

“Someone who knew that whatever was in that safe was valuable.”

“More than whatever’s already here?”

“It’s possible.”

She motioned them all back so that the officer with the camera could take all the necessary pictures. As he did so, her attention drifted back to the broken window. The glass littering the carpet implied it had been broken from the outside, but that was impossible. This floor was easily twelve stories high, and for all his physical prowess, Muggshot would not have been capable of such a feat; nor were any of his goons, for that matter.

Carmelita chewed her lip as a particular thought came to mind about the raccoon who had been helping her. One who could keep up with her as easily as if he’d done the same training she had; who had saved her from two incredibly dangerous dogs within seconds; who had disappeared into the night without so much as a witness statement or even a goodbye.

Who hadn’t even told her his full name.

No, that was ridiculous. It was a conspiracy theory as laughable as if Muggshot had been the one who’d broken into his own office, and she refused to entertain the idea any longer. Sly had open disdain for the police – it made sense that he wouldn’t want to stick around an entire investigative force…even if it did make him look incredibly suspicious.

She closed her eyes and banished the thought immediately. There were much more important things to worry about than one lost ringtail when an entire city still needed to be saved. She wasn’t going to let herself get distracted by the small details again.

It was time to focus on the big picture for once. Just like Barkley said.

The next few hours passed in a blur.

Muggshot’s hired men were completely unaware and unprepared for the SWAT teams that came for them, and while a majority fought back to no avail, some fled or hid and had to be flushed out. The sun was peeking out over the distant buttes by the time Mesa City was officially declared clear of criminals.

Carmelita helped until they were done, refusing every suggestion that she stay behind and rest. She had to borrow an extra weapon as her own pistol was a smoking, sparking mess, and she was practically dead on her feet when the “all clear” was called, but it was worth it. She would have hated herself if she’d sat out on such a crucial clean-up.

It was around that time that another armored car rolled in, and out stepped Chief Inspector Barkley with a cigar between his teeth. He caught sight of the fox nursing a cup of black coffee on the front steps of the hotel, surrounded by police tape, and made a beeline for her.

“Inspector Fox,” he grunted as she quickly stood up to greet him, “I heard you managed to take down our wanted mob boss all by yourself. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said breathlessly, bracing herself for the reprimand she knew was still coming.

“That being said,” – and here it was – “you still have a lot to answer for your behavior earlier today.”

“I – I know, sir, and I apologize for everything. It was wrong of me to put the mission in jeopardy.”

“Damn right it was.” He took a long puff of his smoke, then turned to stare out at the flashing lights of the police cruisers all around them. “Luckily for you, there were very few casualties tonight, and we were still successful in recovering the city. I don’t know why your blunder didn’t put the entire wasp nest on high alert, or how you managed to pull off everything you did, but you were lucky. Very, very lucky.”

She thought back to Muggshot’s casino, and resisted the urge to rub the bump on her head hidden under her hair.

“Incredibly lucky, sir.”

“Anyway, I didn’t come all the way out here in person to confirm that Mesa City is officially safe. I came to give you some important news.”

Carmelita looked at him. “News?”

“Yeah. Word has already spread fast through our department about what you’ve done.” When she winced, he hurried to clarify. “The part about apprehending Muggshot without any help, not the rest of it. Frankly, I hadn’t even worked up the nerve yet to tell my colleagues about your mistake when you called in with that new update. You should have seen how many jaws hit the floor.”

The way he said it was incredibly pleased, and she knew without having to hear it that his jaw had not been one of them. She couldn’t help but smile at his confidence in her, as gruff as it was.

“So, because you performed above and beyond in the field today, there’s been a group decision.”

Barkley paused. He seemed both proud and wary of what he was about to say next.

“You’re being placed on the Fiendish Five case. Lead detective. You start effective immediately.”

Inspector Fox felt like the wind had been knocked straight out of her. She stared at her boss, uncomprehending, as he tapped his cigar to let ash flutter down to the concrete in a tiny pile. He met her astonished gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, Fox? Are you going to say anything, or just stand there like an idiot?”

“I’m not – I mean – I – the whole case?” She asked incredulously. “With all due respect, sir, Interpol has been trying to apprehend the Fiendish Five for at least fifteen years – there’s no way I’m qualified enough to –”

“It was an almost unanimous vote yes,” Barkley interrupted, “and the only reason the Contessa voted no was because she thinks she can find the rest of that gang herself when she gets her hands on Muggshot. Now, I know you’re not exactly used to these people giving you the credit you deserve, Fox, but trust me when I say that what you did tonight has turned a lot of important heads for the better.”

Carmelita suddenly felt faint, and not just from exhaustion. She sank back down onto the steps again in shock. An hour ago, she had been afraid she would lose her rank or even her job by the end of the night. Now, she was the head detective of a case for some of the highest-priority criminals of the last twenty years – barring perhaps the late Conner Cooper himself.

“I…really don’t know what to say,” she murmured, dumbly, staring down at her chilled coffee.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just take the offer. The case information has been sent to you already, and I’ve brought equipment that you’ll most likely not need, but better safe than sorry. Get some guys to help load it into your car before you go back to wherever your safehouse is around here.” He looked down at her with a crooked smile. “Then go take a shower and a nap, because you look like hell.”

Her head was still spinning, but she still had enough brain power to huff out an offended breath. “Thanks, sir.”

“Anytime.”

Half an hour later, Carmelita was on the road with highly sensitive information on her laptop in the passenger seat and about twenty pounds of shiny new equipment in the trunk. An armored vest, an encrypted radio, night vision goggles, an evidence-gathering kit, camping equipment, and a freaking jetpack, just to name a few.

She had no idea why they thought she needed a jetpack to arrest the rest of the Fiendish Five, but she certainly wasn’t about to question their line of thinking.

The motel was still just as sad as when she’d last left it, but now she felt Sly’s absence all too keenly. Why had he disappeared? He’d told her that he didn’t live in Mesa. They could have helped him go home after he’d given them a witness statement. Maybe even a commendation for the assistance he’d given an Interpol Inspector. She was all too aware of the fact that the night would’ve gone very differently had he not been with her.

With a shake of her head, Carmelita tucked her laptop under her arm and stepped out of the car. There was no use thinking about someone who was probably long-gone. Especially not when she was so tired that she could barely get her keys out of her pocket. Right now, what she needed to do was get inside, get some well-earned rest, and then start working on a game plan for this new case.

Heavens knew she already had her work cut out for her; Muggshot might have boldly announced his presence, but the rest of the Five had disappeared into obscurity within the last few years. It was going to take a miracle to find any kind of lead.

There was a sudden, loud thump on the roof above her. Inspector Fox froze, heart beating out of her chest, and quietly looked up. Her shock pistol was still broken in her holster, and all that fancy new equipment was halfway across the parking lot.

If this was one of Muggshot’s men who had slipped through the cracks and was now looking for revenge, then she was potentially in a very dangerous situation.

The sound had all but disappeared from above, replaced by a gentle pitter patter across the roof that she had to strain just to hear at all. It was coming towards the edge of the overhang, so Carmelita flattened herself against her apartment door with her keys held defensively in her hand. She held her breath, trying to stay as quiet as possible, as the sound stopped altogether.

For a terribly long moment, there was absolutely nothing. Just when she was starting to think she had imagined it all, a dark shape dropped down and landed on the railing right in front of her. The fox tensed, ready for a fight –

And then stopped short as a familiar pair of brown eyes in a black-furred mask locked with her own.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Sly said, straightening out of his crouch and sliding off the rail onto hard ground. “I’ve been waiting here for hours.”

Carmelita stared at him, completely gobsmacked.

“Was starting to wonder if maybe a stray dog had gotten to you,” he continued, apparently oblivious to her shock – and growing anger. “But then I figured, nah, you probably just stayed behind to wrap the entire city in that yellow tape you guys love so much.”

The raccoon finally seemed to realize he was the only one having a conversation. He tilted his head and looked her up and down.

“Uh…are you –”

“Where were you?”

It was, admittedly, not the first question she should have asked him, but it was all the fox could think to blurt out as she finally processed the fact that the impromptu partner she had written off as gone forever had, in fact, come back. He blinked, and she could practically see the lightbulb go off in his head right before he relaxed with a nonchalant shrug.

“I told you I don’t do spotlights, didn’t I? Sorry if you wanted a proper notice of evacuation, but I wasn’t exactly keen on sticking around in a city that was still full of people who’d shoot first and ask questions later.”

The explanation was accompanied by a significant look, and it took Carmelita a moment to realize it wasn’t just the criminals he was referring to. She bristled and stepped towards him.

“I don’t know what you think you’re implying –”

“Nothing about you, so don’t get so worked up.”

The inspector gritted her teeth and moved past the insult to her profession with no small amount of effort. “Fine. Next question – what are you doing here?”

Now Sly looked a little less sure of himself.

“Well, I never really took you up on your offer.”

“What offer?”

“The one where you’d let me stay the night and get some food. We sorta booked it straight back to Mesa after your phone call, remember?”

She had forgotten all about that. It was an eternity away now.

“It’s - it’s morning, Ringtail,” she reminded him, as if she wasn’t two seconds away from collapsing on the floor and sleeping through the day herself.

He shrugged again. “Yeah, well, I'm more nocturnal anyway.”

They stared at each other, and suddenly he couldn’t quite meet her eyes anymore, hunching in on himself just a little bit as his sneaker scuffed at the ground. Carmelita was struck with the sudden thought that he might not have anywhere else to go. She closed her eyes, exhaled through her nose, and prayed that she wouldn’t regret this.

“Alright. You can stay one night. But don’t try anything funny, or I’ll shoot you point blank.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The raccoon stuffed his hands in his pockets and acted like he hadn’t just been looking like a kicked puppy. She started to doubt herself a moment, worried that maybe this was all some kind of act he was putting on to – to manipulate her, or take advantage of her kindness somehow, but when he didn’t try to jump her the moment they both entered the room, she relaxed marginally.

“Okay, um, there’s re-heatables in the fridge, but you can help yourself to anything you like.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

Carmelita watched him make a beeline for the kitchenette. He opened the fridge, pulled out two boxes of TV dinners, and started microwaving them while swiping an orange from the little fruit bowl on the counter. Then he leaned against said counter and began unpeeling the orange as he waited for his food to be done.

She didn’t have the energy to be miffed at how fast he seemed to make himself at home after a second invitation, so instead she set her work laptop down on her bed and turned towards the dinky couch on the opposite end of the room. Supposedly, it could turn into a pullout mattress, and she began messing with it with an inner hope that no false advertising had been involved.

When the furniture finally unfolded after a few minutes of frustrated wrestling, the fox let out a quiet noise of triumph. Sly had been watching her the entire time, and he tilted his head with an amused twitch of lips.

“Finally tamed the couch into submission, huh?”

“I could have done it a lot faster if I had a little help,” she said pointedly. His upturned mouth became a fully smug smile.

“And make you feel like you’ve failed your guest as a hostess? No way.”

The microwave beeped. He pulled out his pre-packaged food and began eating without even giving it time to cool. Carmelita watched him do so with no small amount of envy; she was incredibly hungry too, now that things had calmed down enough for her to notice, but she couldn’t rest just yet.

Not until she at least had the rundown on her brand-new case.

Sitting down on her bed, facing her guest as he ate like a starving man, the inspector put on her reading glasses, opened her laptop, and found the files Barkley had promised had been sent to her. The members of the Fiendish Five were listed alphabetically, so she clicked the first one and started reading.

 Clockwerk. Owl. Exact species unknown. Exact age unknown and un-estimated. Exact size unknown, but estimated to be at least ten feet tall. Leader and strategist of the Fiendish Five. Whereabouts unknown; last known sighting six years ago in China.

There were photos when she scrolled past the laughably short description, but they were all blurry and dark. A large silhouette caught under the light of the moon; a shadow blocking most of the frame of a corrupted security camera feed; the glint of bright yellow eyes and what seemed to be a metallic beak – aesthetic, or augmentation, perhaps?

Not enough information for a lead. The fox blew out a frustrated breath and clicked on another member’s file at random.

 Sir Raleigh. Bullfrog. Forty-six years old. Five-feet, nine inches tall, not including attire. Chief Machinist of the Fiendish Five. Whereabouts unknown; last known sighting three years ago in Wales, United Kingdom. • Living relatives • Criminal activity previous to affiliation with Fiendish Five

Her mouse hovered over the additional links without clicking them. Three years was a lot closer than six, and Raleigh had actual photos identifying him. She’d have to check every member, of course, but as far as starting points, this one sounded awfully promising.

“What are you doing?”

Carmelita jumped, having forgotten all about the raccoon. He was standing in the middle of the room, munching away nonchalantly at a piece of bread but watching her with such intensity she nearly closed her laptop on instinct.

“Nothing, just – looking at a case. Which is confidential, so don’t even think about coming over here.”

“I won’t,” he said, still watching her in that strangely focused way. She frowned at him from over her glasses.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sly’s expression shifted, but not because of her question. It became more tense and closed off, and his gaze flickered up to hers where before they had been settled on –

Her reading glasses. Her eyes widened as she realized that in the dark room, the brightness of the laptop screen was reflected in her glasses. Photos of Raleigh’s sneering face danced just below her line of sight as if to mock her.

She shut the laptop fast, but it wasn’t fast enough.

“Are you going after the rest of the Fiendish Five?” He asked. There was none of the previous playfulness in his voice – only something incredibly cold.

It nearly made her shiver.

“Whether I am or am not is none of your business,” she snapped, fighting back the dawning horror that she had leaked confidential information to a civilian, albeit unintentionally. “You shouldn’t have been looking at any of that! Do you even realize how much trouble we could both get in?”

Instead of responding to the question, the raccoon slowly sat down on the end of her bed, staring at her the entire time. His eyes were sharp and shrewd.

“I’m going to help you.”

That…what?

“What?” The inspector asked, not sure if she’d heard right.

“I’m going to help you take down the Fiendish Five,” he repeated with a tone she couldn’t read at all.

“Absolutely not. You’re a civilian. I was pushing the line already letting you help with Muggshot, and the only reason I did that at all was because I didn’t have much of a choice. This,” she gestured to the closed laptop, the thing that had betrayed her so thoroughly, “is a far cry from any of that.”

Sly’s eyes narrowed. Whether in frustration or something stronger, she didn’t know. “You’re saying it like I haven’t already proved I can hold my own. I kept up with you just fine in Mesa, didn’t I?”

“You got lucky.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, and it was enough to make the fur rise on the back of her neck. “I saved your life and helped you get that key. You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me.”

“And I appreciate that, Sly, I really do, but this is different! I’m not working blindly or under a time crunch, I have resources at my disposal, and I will be able to approach it however I want to, now. I can’t let you risk your life for something you wouldn’t even be allowed to be a part of in the first place! There’s a reason this information is confidential!”

“Confidential, huh?” Without breaking eye contact, the raccoon reached over his shoulder into his backpack, and pulled out a set of papers to wave at her. “Does any of that ‘confidential information’ have stuff like this?”

Her breath caught as she saw exactly what he was taunting her with – printed emails between Muggshot and other members of the Fiendish Five, and probably recent to boot. Those papers could very well name where any or all of the rest of their gang was hiding, depending on how smart they were about letting that kind of thing exist on something recordable.

And the bulldog was not very smart.

“Where did you get those?” She breathed in shock. Something ugly twisted in her gut as she thought about the ransacked office. The broken window.

The opened safe.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shot right back. “What matters is that you need them, right? I skimmed over them earlier, and I know for a fact that there’s evidence here that would have you and all your buddies salivating. Not to mention, all that police procedure is gonna make looking through Muggshot’s stuff take forever. Could be weeks, maybe months before they send stuff your way. If you want to see this information anytime soon then you’re going to take me with you.”

Carmelita stood up abruptly, trembling in anger and indignation, and he stood as well to match her height. How dare he try to coerce her like this – how dare he! To think so lowly of her that she would accept what was practically blackmail just to solve her case and bring in a gang of criminals.

A gang of highly dangerous, world-infamous criminals with stolen goods worth millions and a collective body count in the triple digits, who had gone uncaught for nearly two decades.

“...Let’s just entertain, for a moment, the idea that I’d say yes to that,” she ground out with her fists clenched tight. “Why the hell would you even want to go along with me? What could you possibly hope to gain by risking your life and going up against such a powerful group?”

Sly’s eyes flashed with some terrible, deep pit of emotions that was impossible to parse out. The only thing she knew for certain was that all of it was layered with a barely restrained, almost primal drive, the reasons for which she was not privy to.

“Because I won’t feel safe until every single one of them is gone or behind bars, and I’m going to go after all of them to make sure that happens.”

Inspector Fox stared at him. She stared at the papers in his hand. Stared at the way he shook almost imperceptibly, the same way she did. There was something else she could see, something just on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it with visible difficulty.

“I’m going after them,” he finished, quiet and absolute, “and if you really want me to ‘stay safe’, then you’ll let me come with you. You’re the only cop on this planet that I think has any kind of chance to actually succeed.”

Her knuckles were white from how hard she clenched her fists at her sides. The urge to tell him no, to strike down his offer-slash-blackmail almost overwhelmed her. But she knew, just from looking at him, that her words would not stop him. He would follow her against her will or go after the Five by himself with whatever evidence he was holding onto, and there was only one way she could minimize the danger he was throwing himself into.

She closed her eyes and made her decision.

“Fine. It’s your funeral, Ringtail.”

Sly lifted his chin in triumph, but there was no self-satisfied smirk on his face. Only grim victory and steely determination. She met that gaze unflinchingly.

“But before anything else…we need to make a pit stop.”

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

A/N: Oh Carmelita, the one time it would have been prudent of you to actually look at all the small details around you instead of taking your boss's advice....

Fun fact: in the first draft of this fic, Sly was actually going to tell Carm that the Fiendish Five had stolen "something precious" of his that he was going to get back no matter what. Obviously, that would lead to more questions from our favorite cop, so I had to ditch it. You sure can see it on the tip of his tongue though, huh ;)

[bi-bard]

Reunion - Winchester Brothers Imagine (Supernatural/Criminal Minds Crossover)

Title: Reunion

Pairing: Winchester Brothers X Sibling!Reader

Requested: nope

Word Count: 2,202 words

Warning(s): mentions of kidnapping and violence, mentions of John's shitty parenting

Summary: (S.1, E.1 for SPN, just before S.1, E.1 for Criminal Minds) Hotch and (Y/n) are assigned to a case in Jericho, California where men are disappearing without a trace. The first real lead they get causes their pathways to cross with some familiar faces from (Y/n)'s past.

Author's Note: God, I love writing for this character so much.

Find more of this character here!

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I would've said that it was a normal case, but that would say that any case the B.A.U worked was "normal" and "straight-forward" when they could never really be classified as such.

Hotch and I were sent out to consult on a case in California.

There was a string of abductions occurring. It was always men, always in the same five-mile stretch of road. When you looked into the pattern further, the incidents went back twenty years.

Hotch was thinking it had to be a team with a mentor and a student. That was the only way for the abductions to continue on the way they have.

I agreed. That was the only human way for that timeline to work.

I was raised by John Winchester though. My antenna for the supernatural was up at all times, no matter how much I willed for it to just go away.

I had a multitude of ideas concerning this pattern. Not that I would ever voice them. I would just pray we found the human answer instead.

I knew my hopes were a waste when we showed up on the scene of the latest crime scene.

We were approaching with one of the forensics guys when I spotted them.

My brothers.

I wanted to smack both of them over the head.

Sam wasn't even meant to be hunting. He had found a life of his own at college. He was doing well in school, he had friends, he had a girlfriend. He was so happy. How did he get roped into this?

The two of them were having some kind of quiet discussion when Sam spotted me over Dean's shoulder. He hit Dean lightly so Dean would look at us.

I saw the panic cross his face. Not only at the sight of the F.B.I jackets, but at the sight of me in particular.

"Agents," he said with an incredibly awkward nod of his head.

The two of them walked off.

"Bizarre," I heard Hotch mutter.

"You're telling me," I replied before shaking the image of them out of my head and trying to focus on the case in front of me.

The scene itself didn't get us very far, but the call concerning fake federal marshals did.

We arrived at the police station to see the sheriff sitting with a box of stuff on his desk.

"What's going on," I asked.

"We found out that those two guys from the crime scene were using fake badges to impersonate federal marshals," he explained. "One of 'em used a fake ID with the same last night as another suspicious person that had been snooping the last abduction. The first guy got away and we managed to snag one of the two at the motel. Don't know where his partner went."

"And the box," Hotch glanced at it.

"The older guy was paying for a week or so," the sheriff stood up. "We got in and found news articles and photos of the missing people. Along with some senseless rambling in this weird journal."

I grabbed my dad's journal quickly, instantly recognizing the cover. I flicked through a few pages. It did seem like nonsense to those who didn't recognize it.

"Which one did you catch?"

"The smartass with short hair."

Dean.

"We can't get him to give us any real answers. Keeps giving us the name Ted Nugent."

"We can try to get information about his partner from him," Hotch offered.

"Be my guest," the sheriff motioned toward the door.

"Let me try," I asked Hotch. "Please."

"Why," he replied.

"I've watched countless interrogations now," I explained. "This man isn't going to respond to a stern face and yelling. He'll just taunt you and try to get through your shell. He has a problem with outside signs of authority, clearly. Let me try to get to him."

Now, I wasn't completely lying. I just wasn't working off a hunch. Dean was my brother; I knew he had problems if anyone other than our dad tried to tell him what to do. It was a side effect of being raised as a damn soldier.

"You can try," Hotch said.

"Thank you," I grinned.

"You can step out at any time," he reminded me. I hadn't led an interrogation yet. I had just helped Hotch with most of them.

I nodded.

The sheriff handed me a box of things they found in the motel room so I could take it with me. Something was clearly wrong. My dad was never this careless. None of this would be left on purpose.

What had that idiot gotten himself into?

I took a deep breath before walking into the interrogation room.

"Hello... Mr. Hector Aframian," I greeted, dropping the box on the table and acting like I didn't know Dean in the slightest. "Or Ted. Whatever you said. I'm Agent Campbell with the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the F.B.I."

"Oh, I must be pretty popular if they're sending in F.B.I," Dean smirked at me.

I knew right then that he wasn't going to help me get him out of this. Fine then, he turned his back on me when I left, I'd turn my back on him now.

I sent a condescending grin, "Yeah, multiple missing people on one stretch of road tends to bring in the big guns."

"I had nothing to do with that," he replied.

"Then why show up on the scene and pretend to be federal marshals," I asked. "Because that and the reported mockery of officers on the scene does not look good."

"Why would I jump into your spotlight when there are no leads on me?"

"You would be amazed at how often criminals will insert themselves into investigations," I shrugged. "It's usually a desire to be noticed and seen. Not our fault your plan was stupidly bold."

"Bold?"

"Stupid," I corrected. He rolled his eyes. "That's not even mentioning the missing faces taped to your wall and the collection of news articles going back twenty years."

"I would've been six twenty years ago," Dean shrugged. "It would've been kind of difficult to snag someone off the road in kindergarten."

"Your dad would've only been in his thirties," I shrugged before dropping my dad's journal on the table, open to a collection of photos. "It's Dean, right? He mentions you. And put his real name in the cover. John and Dean Winchester. I've got your names and then ramblings that seem sadistic."

"My dad's not sadistic," he replied.

"I said 'seem sadistic,'" I corrected. "You can see that this doesn't look good, right?"

He clenched his jaw.

"So, your other partner," I pointed at Sam in one of the photos. It was a baby picture. Dean and I sitting with John, who was holding Sammy up for the camera. Silly, fun, a few weeks before the fire, maybe. "That's him, yeah?"

Dean had shut down on me.

"Is that Sam," I asked, acting like I had read it in the journal. "This photo really does show a lot, huh? Why drag your baby brother into it?"

"Shut up," he grumbled at me.

It was an honest question on my part.

Sam was the only one to put an effort into keeping contact with me after I left. I knew about law school and Jess. I knew that he was on track to living a life he was proud of.

"It's your baby brother," I pushed. "And you've made him a suspect in a kidnap and murder case."

"I told you to shut up," he snapped.

"What about this one," I pointed to myself in the picture. "What happened here? Why aren't there records of four of you?"

"That's my sibling," he explained. "They left when they were 18. Haven't heard from 'em."

"Why'd they leave?"

"They thought my dad treated us like crap," he continued. Thought. I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. "My dad did his best."

"Best would not be training your kids to be soldiers," I replied. "I've read parts of this journal; I've seen how you act. You were raised to fight."

"There are bad people in this world."

"Doesn't mean you have to walk around with your gun drawn."

Dean clenched his jaw again.

"Now, I have one more question," I flipped to the back of the journal, pointing at some scribbling of Dean's name and two numbers. "What's this?"

"An old high school locker combination."

"Really," I chuckled. "Those have three numbers, but good try."

He sighed.

"I thought coordinates," I shrugged. "Is this a meeting spot... or a dump spot?"

"Even if they were coordinates, we don't have anything to dump," he replied.

I let out a sigh, "So it's a meeting spot?"

"It's not coordinates."

I clicked my tongue, "I don't think I believe you."

"You're kidding."

"Campbell," I looked up when Hotch peaked through the door. He nodded at me to step out.

"I'll be right back."

I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.

"Garcia ran a check on him," Hotch explained. "Beyond his mom dying in a house fire, he's got no clear trigger or stressor."

"What about the dad," I tried to not act a little relieved that they didn't find a motive.

"Nothing going back far enough," he replied.

"So, the notes on his wall," I asked, "they're just some independent investigation?"

"The most we have on this man and his brother is pretending to be law enforcement."

I nodded. As I did, the officers started standing up and leaving the building.

"Shots fired," one of them told us on the way out. "Whiteford road."

"Are we going," I asked. "May not be a part of our investigation."

"Can we afford that risk?"

I sighed before shaking my head and following Hotch out. I stopped at the door. I knew Dean was going to do something stupid. I looked at the interrogation room to see him already standing by the window.

We locked eyes.

I looked down and clenched my jaw before running out again.

I was angry, but he was my brother. I couldn't turn him in like that. I just couldn't. It was the ultimate intersection between my work and my family. And I chose my family.

I didn't hear from either of my brothers until I was back in my hotel room for the night.

It was about midnight when my phone rang. It was an unknown number.

"Hello," I said. Sam used to call from his burner phone all the time. It was normal.

"(Y/n)," just as I suspected. "It's Sam."

"Hi, Sam," I replied. I sat on the edge of my bed and sighed. "What the hell are you doing hunting again?"

"Dean showed up at my place," he explained. "Said Dad was missing and that he needed my help."

"Missing? Dad disappears for a few days all the time. Especially when he fixates on a hunt. What made this so special?"

"Dean said he can feel that something's off."

I ran a hand over my face, "Are you staying with him?"

"No," he insisted. "I have an interview for law school on Monday. I can't stay with him."

"My boss used to be a prosecutor, y'know," I mentioned. "Want me to ask for some advice?"

I smiled when I heard Sam chuckle, "No, I think I'll be okay."

"Good luck, Sammy."

"Thanks," he muttered. "You too."

I grinned, "Love you."

"Love you too."

Sam hung up a few seconds later.

Something in my stomach didn't feel right. It was just this little pinch that something was going to happen. That something wasn't right. It made me feel just a little bit sick.

I didn't get to dwell on the thought before there was a knock on the door.

I opened the door to find Hotch standing on the other side.

"I need to ask you something," he said. I nodded. "Campbell. It's your mom's maiden name, right?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"The other kid in that photo," he muttered. "That was you."

I should've known he would've picked up on it. He was trained to find any pattern he could. That and he was the only member of the team to have ever seen my full name. I didn't want any connection to the hunting world, but I didn't think to go through the process of legally changing it. Hotch had respected that.

"Yeah," I answered. "That didn't change how I handled it-"

"I know. I don't think your brother's involved either."

"Neither is my dad," I added. "He was a bit of an ass, but he doesn't do stuff like this. He tries to help people."

"I believe you," he replied. There was a long pause. "I won't ask for details. It's none of my business. I just needed to know."

"Okay."

"You did well today," Hotch grinned at me.

I grinned, "Thank you."

After I closed the door on him, that dreadful feeling came back. Something wasn't right. I sat on the edge of my bed again as I tried to shake off those thoughts.

What was the universe planning that I just knew was going to be so awful?

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

Masterlist (Includes links to Taylor Swift, Maisie Peters, and Lizzy McAlpine Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[lumilasi]

Finished this one, after that laptop restart scare. Like said in the sketch, this is based on a scene I wrote for Reclaimed, then decided to scrap it because I changed direction as to where the story will go. I decided to include a shortened version of the scene below too:

(Context: Tomura is waking up from an unconscious state he was put in as an attempt to activate his slumbering AFO prematurely, so his Sensei can’t possess him later - the person helping him do this ironically being another, more benevolent version of the man. Why there’s two is too much of a long story to explain here, (if you’re someone who doesn’t know much about my writing) but basically there’s bit of a multiverse going on with some of my fics lmao)

He felt so cold, like all the heat had left his body. He was sore and numb, feeling all kinds of drained. Waking up felt extremely difficult, almost like he was dragging himself uphill underwater. The closer to the ’surface’ he got however, the warmer it got. Bit by bit Tomura begins to stir, the shadowy depths slowly receding from his mind.

He was resting on something soft, and there was something warm next to him. A scent he recognized, indicating they’d brought him home. He could vaguely recall hearing them talk, after it was all over. He’d felt someone pick him up, probably Spinner.

After that, nothing. 

He’d fallen right back into the depths of his mind.

It had been....bizarre. His mind had never been so blank, nothing but black emptiness. No flashbacks, no nightmares, nothing. Just silence, just darkness. It was admittedly a welcome change to his slumber, but so strange to experience. There had been a flash of something though, at one point. 

Something green again.

The feeling of....something, reaching for him.

As he looked, he couldn’t see it, just darkness. Metaphorically speaking.

How long had he been out cold? Probably for a while, the man had warned him before they started, that he could end up comatose for a bit. Who knew how long, days, weeks, he wouldn’t know until he woke up properly.

The warm feeling beside him intensified as he slowly crawled closer and closer to the waking world. Tomura now remembers, he’d woken up briefly earlier. He’d been somewhere else. There had been muffled voices nearby. Some strange hissing noise, and a stitched hand eventually touching his cheek. He’d tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t. He’d fallen back down into the black depths of his mind instantly.

As he climbed up the metaphorical hill, his mind begins to clear more and more. He’d stirred more than once. He’d heard voices, felt someone touch him, carry him maybe. Now he was resting on a bed somewhere, maybe his own. The warm presence next to him becomes clearer bit by bit, and he could make out more details. Lips pressed against his neck, slightly parted as the person breathed evenly in their sleep. Fingers mingled into his hair, the arm reaching across his chest.

He finds himself wanting to shift closer to the warmth, but he still wasn’t there. The darkness still wanted to pull him back down, telling him to stay there a bit longer, where he was free of pain, free of nightmares and all the agony he’d suffered through so far. Tomura ignored the lulling temptation, crawling towards the light, wanting to wake up. He’d gone too far to back off now and hide away like a coward. He’d never been one, facing whatever shit life threw at him head on, no matter how much it hurt.

There were voices echoing in his head again, memories; his friends, quietly discussing something around him, sounding concerned. He couldn’t make out the words. They’d been there too, at some point. Now it was just the warmth beside him, the familiar ashy scent that would probably cling to him for the rest of his life eventually, even if Dabi didn’t.

There was another echo in his mind, he wasn’t sure if it was spoken now or earlier. It was just a whisper, a quiet utterance of his name pressed against his skin, but it was enough to snap Tomura out of it, shaking off the lull to head towards the light ahead. The shadows resisted, clearly keen on keeping him there, where it was safe. Where it was quiet.

Another light appears ahead of him, a small, fragile looking butterfly. 

It was glowing red, illuminating his way forward. The shadowy coils slowly retreat, understanding this was what he wanted. Tomura follows the butterfly towards the light, hearing a voice echoing in his head, this time not strictly a memory, but not fully real either.

”This is as far as I can support you. From here on out, as you wake up, you’re on your own.”

It was said like a warning, making sure he understood the consequences. Tomura halts in his steps, examining the glowing small figure in front of him. It had been present this whole time since they started, though at first, it hadn’t been this shape. This butterfly appeared once he’d begun to stir properly, replacing the man who’d been watching over him the whole process. 

It had felt like forever, even though the initial ordeal he’d gone through had likely only been for a few hours. How long had it been since though? He didn’t know.

”Part of me still wants to do more for you, but...this is not my battle to fight.”

”You’d just make everything worse.”

Tomura agrees with a faint nod, holding his hand up as the butterfly lands on it. It would be so easy to crush it now, turn it to dust. He doesn’t. 

”How long have I been out?”

”I cannot say. I know of the outside world only as much as you do.”

”Right. Once I wake up, you’ll disappear, right?”

The butterfly doesn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. It was how this worked. Once it wasn’t needed, the vestige would disappear as the man had promised. He had not placed this piece here with him to stay. Just to help him through this difficult first step. For a change, Tomura felt like he could trust the man’s word for it. It was bizarre feeling for sure.

Part of Tomura knew he should still feel angry and bitter about all this. Of all people, why this man had to be the one with the key to his situation? He’d chosen to let go of that anger, for it would not serve him. 

”Your anger is a great asset though; just use it wisely. You’re not just a hate filled empty vessel anymore; keep that part of you growing, and you’ll survive.”

Tomura nods faintly, turning to look towards the lights.

”.....Thank you.”

With that he closes his fist, shattering the tiny butterfly to glowing dust as light engulfs him now, finally forcing his body awake.

Red eyes snap open, staring at the ceiling for a moment. It was nighttime judging from the minimal light outside. For a moment Tomura just lies there completely still, feeling all his senses awaken, eventually looking at the figure sleeping beside him. He looked exhausted, as if he’d been worrying over him while he was unconscious.

Tomura couldn’t stop but wonder. 

How long had he been out?

[true-blue-megamind]

What would Megamind actually look like in real life?

FAN THEORY THURSDAY: What Would Megamind Look Like in Real Life?

Special thanks to OtherworldlyBookGoddess for suggesting this week’s topic! You’re fantastic!

Just in case there remains someone out there who has not yet seen the epic awesomeness that is Megamind—in which case, seriously, why are you reading this?—SPOILER ALERT!

Over the years, Megamind has become an iconic character, so much so that someone who is especially intelligent or does something particularly smart may be referred to by the name. For most of us, the charming, oddly-handsome blue alien is instantly recognizable. What, however, would he look like in real life? Would he still appear likable, or would we find ourselves feeling uncomfortable around him?

The first thing that struck me while researching this is that—although the total sum of his appearance was strange enough to make the citizens of Metro City fear him, even as a child—besides his blue skin, there is no other single feature that I can point to as extremely odd or inhuman. (No, not even his head size. You’ll see what I mean shortly.) Rather it is the combination that makes him look so different. (Well, that and the aforementioned skin tone, of course, although even that is possible for humans. Read Megamind’s Anatomy for more about that.)

Let’s start with one of the most obvious features. As discussed before in How Smart is Megamind, the blue man’s head is about 35percent larger than a typical human adult’s. This means that, while large, it wouldn’t be as absurdly huge as you may think. In the film, it actually looks bigger than it would really be because the particular animated style used causes everyone’s head to seem a little large. (Just look at Roxanne for reference and compare her appearance to that of an actual human female.)

According to Asking a Lot, Megamind’s head is about one-fifth of his overall height. This is interesting because it means that the blue man’s head-to-body ratio is roughly the same as that of a four-year-old human. So, again, his head is large for an adult, but it cannot rightfully be said to be inhumanly big, only oddly pronounced for a grown male. Indeed, this could mean that his larger head size might even cause natives of earth to automatically view him as slightly cute and childlike. That has to be annoying.

There are, in fact, two different fan theories related to this. The first is that Megamind wears lots of black leather and spikes, in part, to ensure that everyone around him recognizes that he absolutely is not adorable in any way. This may, perhaps, partially account for why he chose to create a persona intended to both shock and terrify. (You can read more about that in Who is the Real Megamind Part 2.)

The second supposition is that Megamind may have chosen to grow a rather roguish hourglass soul patch on his chin to counteract both his aforementioned childlike proportions and his boyishly handsome face. After all, the combination can’t have done much to help him establish himself as a serious, feared, and decidedly grown-up supervillain.

Which brings us to the blue man’s facial features. In the movie, his eyes appear huge, but again the animation style portrays everyone’s as larger-than-life, so in reality his would not be a big as they appear. I’ll use Roxanne as a comparison once more. Jadeite-ART created a wonderful realistic version of the film’s heroine which shows her eyes to be roughly half the size of the animated counterpart, so we can assume the ratio of Megamind’s features between an animated and a realistic version would be about the same.

This means that while the former villain’s eyes are certainly large, they are again not bizarrely so. Furthermore, unless he has his eyes wide open in surprise, they are not truly round but more of a rounded almond or oval shape. This makes them unusual by human standards, but not excessively strange.

Beyond that, it appears that the animators were careful to blend various features to create a face for the alien that was recognizable while not imitating any particular race. He has a roughly diamond-shaped face, moderately slender brows, somewhat high cheekbones, a straight, slim nose with a wide bottom, and a strong, narrow, rather square chin. The result is that he appears humaniod without fitting too closely into any human nationality. It’s careful details like this that give me the greatest respect for the animation team behind the movie.

So, given all of this information, what would Megamind’s portrait look like in real life? Using the measurements and data above, this is my (admittedly inexpert) attempt at visually answering that question.

(Fair warning: I’m not much of an artist and I don’t claim to be any sort of digital art guru, so, you know, just pretend this is better than it is.)

Special thanks to the Megamind Evil Lair Discord, especially Owl, Emma, Nickel, Ender, and Vamp, for all their great suggestions and advice in what would have otherwise been a disastrous and creepy attempt at art!

Moving on to the rest of the blue man’s appearance, his physique is, of course, very skinny. There’s no getting past that. His torso is also unusually long, putting his waistline lower than typical. Look closely at the image below. Megamind's waistline is about a third thinner than Roxanne's. Sure, the reporter herself is meant to be fit yet a little curvaceous—Fandom.com describes her as having “an average chest and wide hips, making her body pear shaped”—but still, the blue man’s waist is only about two-thirds the size of his lady love’s.

To be more specific, Roxanne is five feet tall (153 centimeters) and fans speculate, based on her measurements in the film, that she wears a US dress size medium. Judging by this article on women’s measurements, this would make her weight about 150 pounds (or around 70 kilograms.) That, in turn, means that Megamind’s waist would be about the same as that of a US women’s extra small, making the blue alien’s probable weight (assuming his body mass is similar to that of humans) about 120 pounds or 55 kilograms. Even for a fellow slightly under five-and-a-half feet, that’s pretty skinny! His slim neck, compared to most human males, may add to this deceptively delicate appearance.

And, make no mistake, it is deceptive. If we examine the movie character closely, we can see that Megamind’s physique does have some definition, albeit very subtle. Furthermore, as mentioned before in the blog article How Strong is Megamind, we have ample evidence that our favorite villain-turned-hero is much more physically powerful than he appears. Indeed, if the aforementioned suppositions about Megamind’s size and weight are correct then it makes his strength even more impressive because, whenever he picks up Roxanne with apparent ease, he is actually lifting someone heavier than himself without even straining.

This has led fans to make a couple of logical assumptions. The first is that Megamind’s physique is similar to that of a male ballet dancer: slender but surprisingly strong. The second is that the blue man’s musculature must differ from that of a human, although the specifics in different fan theories vary. At any rate, both ideas seem to be reasonable.

And that’s about it! I hope you’ve all found this post both fun and informative. Thank you for reading and I’ll see you next week!

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 10

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

What was going on around Gavin was essentially up to his imagination due to the fact that Rael wouldn’t move his damn hands. While he wasn’t really eager to encounter any more alteons, Gavin was beginning to feel claustrophobic with parts of Rael’s body surrounding him on all sides.

After the interaction with the guard at the entrance, Gavin heard Rael exchange a few more brief greetings as he made his way through the palace. It was bizarre, being so near to other people but being unnoticed or otherwise unacknowledged.

Gavin found it kind of odd that no one had even commented on the weird way Rael’s hands were situated. Surely at least some of them had noticed, right? So why didn’t they mention it? Maybe minding one’s own business was a big staple of alteon culture or something…

The din of voices, rummaging around, and clanging dishes that had been present ever since entering the building began to fade. Only once everything had fallen silent did Rael speak up. “I’m going to remove my hand now,” he stated.

Before Gavin could get the chance to try to prepare himself, he suddenly found himself bombarded with light. “Ah, god,” he complained as he blinked away the spots in his eyes.

Once his vision had recovered from the initial assault, Gavin carefully opened his eyes all the way. The sight he was met with took his breath away. Sure it may have just been a hallway, but it was the most stunning hallway he had ever been in!

The walls were made of smooth gray stone that rose up into arches in the ceiling. Banners of a rich blue color, decorated with a complex emblem hung from the walls on either side. Floor candelabras that looked to be made out of some kind of dark metal stood every few feet along the sides of the hallway--it was impressive how well candles managed to light the area.

The centerpiece of the room was the tall door that Rael stood directly in front of. The thing was made of dark wood that had been carved with intricate designs. It looked as though it would weigh a ton, even to someone Rael’s size.

Gavin had been in a lot of fancy places in his day--it had usually been while he was breaking and entering, but that was besides the point. The point was, none of those places matched the grandiose nature this literal castle possessed. “Think of all the riches I could find here…” Gavin’s thief brain was kicking in and he very nearly smacked himself as a result. “Yeah, like I haven’t gotten in enough trouble for stealing from alteons,” the more rational section of his mind countered.

“Hey, are you listening?” Gavin was abruptly jerked out of his own mental argument by the sound of Rael’s voice, which he only now realized had been going off in the background for the past few seconds.

“Uh--sorry, what did you say?” Gavin asked sheepishly as he leaned back to look up at the alteon’s face.

Rael blew out an impatient sigh. “I said, this door leads to the central part of the palace,” he summarized. “I also said that I’m going to keep you uncovered from now on.”

Gavin wasn’t really sure whether to be pleased or upset by this news. On one hand, he was eager to not be stuck in the oppressive dark. However, on the other hand, being out in the open meant getting ogled at by giants. Plus there was the risk of someone snatching him again… “No one's gonna try and grab me, are they?” He voiced his concern.

Rael’s expression softened so slightly Gavin barely even managed to detect it. “No, the palace is the most secure location in the world, you’ll be fine,” the dark haired giant assured him.

Satisfied with the response, Gavin gave a nod. He relaxed just a bit. Despite the many ups and downs they’d had together, Gavin trusted Rael’s judgement as well as his ability to protect him. Though the giant had managed to handle the Kaydin situation with words rather than violence, Gavin didn’t doubt that the guy would kick ass in a fight--if the definition in the guy’s biceps were anything to go by anyways.

-

To be honest, Rael would have preferred to keep Gavin hidden until the moment he delivered him to the Emperor. However, he knew that while the servants he’d passed by already had known better than to intrude upon a soldier’s business, most of the people in the central part of the palace would have no qualms in doing so. If he were to walk in, clearly hiding something, he would no doubt get stopped at least several times. At least with Gavin on display, everyone would instantly know the situation. Of course that may not prevent them from interfering, but Rael could only hope for minimal interaction.

After a quick glance downwards to ensure his passenger was secure, Rael pulled open the large door that separated the servant’s section from the rest of the palace.

The decor and architecture in this area, while similar to that of the previous section, was far grander and more extravagant. Rael didn’t even have to look to know Gavin was stunned by the sight. He took a small bit of pride in knowing the human was impressed by alteon craftsmanship.

The room they were in was the front entryway, it was where most visitors would first enter the palace. A handful of guards dotted the room, and of course, as soon as they all spotted Gavin, their eyes were glued to the little man.

Rael could feel Gavin fidgeting nervously in his hand, and honestly, the feeling was somewhat mutual. While Rael wasn’t the focus of anyone’s stares, he was still getting far more attention than he would prefer. Imagining what they could all be thinking about him made Rael feel sick to his stomach.

“Just...try to ignore them,” he advised himself as he began to walk further into the entryway. Avoiding making eye contact with anyone, he made his way towards the grand staircase that was the focal point of the room.

After ascending the steps, Rael was met with the enormous doors that would lead into the throne room. Rather than going through them, he made a right down the hallway that would take him to the Emperor’s office. The throne room was only used for official, large scale events. The Emperor was far more likely to be working in his office at this hour.

Unfortunately, there was no shortage of people milling around, and while so far everyone had refrained from approaching Rael, that streak was about to come to an end. “Ah, so this must be the human who attempted to rob Lady Elyth,” remarked a woman he recognized as being one of the Emperor’s scribes.

The scribe stood in front of Rael, effectively blocking his path. He sighed internally. Despite having no actual title, the Emperor’s scribes were well respected around the palace, and as close servants of the Emperor, soldiers like Rael were expected to defer to them. This meant he would be forced to humor this woman.

“Yes, I’m on my way to bring him to the Emperor now,” Rael stated, hoping the scribe would want to avoid getting in the way of Imperial orders.

Rael had to fight the urge to look down when he felt Gavin inching backwards on his palm. The little guy seemed to be trying to put some distance between himself at the unfamiliar alteon that was currently staring at him.

The woman gave a nod of understanding but still didn’t move. “This one certainly appears younger than the other ones I’ve seen,” she commented as she leaned in for a closer look.

Rather than jerking backwards as he reflexively wanted to, Rael remained still. He glanced down to see that Gavin had retreated all the way towards his chest. It was evident he was trying to keep a calm expression on his face, but it was easy to tell the man was highly uncomfortable. “Just hang in there,” Rael thought, wishing he could mentally send the message to the human.

Finally, after several long moments of ogling, the scribe pulled back and straightened up. “The Emperor is currently meeting with one of his advisors in his office, so you’ll have to wait until he’s finished” she informed him. “Anyways, enjoy the rest of your day, soldier.”

“And you as well, miss,” Rael replied. He waited until the woman had walked past him and out of sight before he started forward once again.

Gavin let out a deep sigh of relief, but otherwise kept quiet, which was for the best considering there were still guards about. Rael didn’t fail to notice that the human hadn’t moved away from his body. Even through his clothes, Rael could feel the slight movements that brushed against his chest. Were he not a man of fortitude, he may have reacted to the ticklish sensation.

After turning a corner, Rael made it to the more secluded area of the palace that housed the Emperor’s personal office. He was surprised to find the small sitting area outside the office completely vacant. Typically, there was at least one guard stationed outside the door so long as the Emperor was inside.

Rael furrowed his brows. Had the scribe not confirmed that the Emperor was indeed in his office, he might have suspected the ruler was elsewhere. But, since Rael couldn’t risk potentially barging in on a private meeting, he wouldn’t be able to check to be certain. “We’re going to have to wait,” he told Gavin in a low voice.

“Okay, yeah..good,” the human replied, not bothering to hide his relief at getting to postpone his impending judgement.

Being sure to keep Gavin steady, Rael took a seat on the stone bench across from the door to the Emperor’s office. It was only once he was seated that he realized how cramped the hand that was holding Gavin was. For quite awhile now he’d been making a concentrated effort to keep the appendage still so as to not accidentally exacerbate the human’s injuries.

“I’m going to set you down beside me, alright?” Rael waited for Gavin’s nod of confirmation before carefully relocating him onto the bench. Once the human was safely settled on his own two feet, Rael gratefully shook out his aching hand.

“Nothing like a giant castle to make a guy feel small,” Gavin remarked with a nervous chuckle as he sat down.

Rael glanced down at the human thoughtfully. Sometimes he forgot that in Gavin’s eyes, humans weren’t unusually tiny and weak creatures. To him, humans were normal sized--therefore he perceived alteons as giants. It was strange for Rael to imagine, because he couldn’t help but see Gavin as anything but tiny. “It’s quite large even to us alteons, if that’s any consolation,” he said honestly. “Anyone unfamiliar with the layout is bound to get lost.”

It had taken a good few weeks after beginning work at the palace for Rael to get a hang of navigating the expansive property. The winding hallways and innumerable doors made the place a virtual maze. He could only imagine how daunting it must be for someone of Gavin’s size. It would be effortless for the little guy to get hopelessly lost.

Just then, Rael’s attention was drawn to the office door, which had begun opening. The person who exited was familiar--he was a fellow member of the Imperial Guard. Rael quickly realized that he must have been the one who was meant to be on duty outside the office, though that didn’t explain what he’d been doing inside the room.

“Rael, there you are,” Ashryn greeted as he swiftly shut the door behind him before Rael could even get a glimpse inside the office. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”

Ashryn was tall and well muscled. His skin was a touch lighter than Rael’s and his braided hair was of a chestnut brown color. Judging by his broad shoulders and sharp jawline, the guy would undoubtedly make for an intimidating adversary.

“The Emperor just asked me for some insight on a few matters,” Ashryn explained, gesturing back towards the office. Rael suppressed a look of confusion. He had never really heard of a guard of Ashryn’s rank being asked for input from the Emperor himself. “But enough about that,” Ashryn declared, interrupting Rael’s contemplation. “I’m eager to meet this human criminal.” In an instant his gaze was upon Gavin. A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and there was a glint in those pale green eyes of his that Rael didn’t like in the slightest.

[assemble-revengers]

Nexus Split

**Contains spoilers for Loki**

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2203

Prompt: “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

Author’s Note: I woke up and chose violence today.

--

Time was hard to grasp before this whole mess began, but it at least had some structure regardless of how ethereal it seemed. There was structure and a time and place and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time so it seemed when you also made a move to snatch up the Tesseract the second you saw Loki move in New York. That’s how you got into this mess and honestly there were many things you had regretted initially. For instance, why couldn’t you have minded your own business?

Well, if you had you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet Loki, and at the moment? That felt worth more than anything. It hadn’t started that way -- the two of you were practically at each other’s throats and when you weren’t bickering between each other you were being confused by the politics of the TVA and time in general.

In a wild turn of events you became an unpaid intern all over again. You supposed it was better than dying or “being pruned”. You still were confused as ever by the lingo and even though you had tried your best to pay attention to the onboarding process, but frankly you were still wrapping your head around the prospect of the TVA in general. How had no one even considered this being a possibility? Where did these people come from? It seemed that it just...was? But if that was the case, why was there an onboarding process?

Miss Minutes was terrifying -- she was just so...eerie and popped up randomly and honestly you just wanted a nap. Or to wake up from this bizarre dream.

The worst part was the notion of running into other variants, namely the fact that a variant that had been targeting members of the TVA happened to be a Loki-variant.

“Wonderful,” you retorted, interrupting Mobius with disdain, “There’s another one of him.”

The aforementioned god was sitting across a table from you and you weren’t entirely sure how he was taking the whole thing. According to him, the tesseract was useless here. A paper weight. Another beyond weird thing that the TVA brought.

“We should team up,” a voice interrupted your spacing out and it took you a moment to realize that the voice belonged to Loki. And he was talking to you.

You blinked a few times incredulously, “You have been nothing but cruel to me since we met. Why would I ever help you?” Honestly, the audacity of men.

“I am sorry about that, by the way,” he answered, “I was going through something.”

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out, covering your mouth immediately to try to mute the sound and avoid any more attention. “Aw, that makes it all better.”

There was no reason to hide your sarcasm, and he knew that. You could tell from the way he blanched for a moment before resuming his composure, obviously trying to turn on some godly charm or something onto you, “I was. I truly am sorry.”

“Loki, you stole the Tesseract, tried to take over the world and brought a bunch of crazy alien things into New York City,” you listed, counting off the things on your fingers, “And now because you went after the stupid Tesseract again, with a room full of Avengers I might add, I cannot return to my life which wasn’t that impressive, but at this moment? I kind of miss it. So, no, I don’t accept your apology.” He was silent after that and you went back to your mind palace spiraling about the logistics of what was happening to you.

It was not a great day for you. Week? Hour? Time was weird. It was even more weird when you were suddenly having to do research into the Loki-variant-assassin. Going through files and files of different instances in time was tedious. It was interesting in that some of the things had already happened, were going to happen, and were happening in places you had never even heard of. It was during this that you and Loki had begun to work more collaboratively.

In fact, the moment you guys had made the connection that it was apocalypses? You taught the god of mischief the importance of a high five. Or rather, never leaving someone hanging because you chased him down, yelling at him until he returned the high five before you even allowed him to present your findings to Mobius. The bond continued when you both were treated like unhinged criminals or starved, ravenous animals by pretty much everyone other than Mobius who was...friendly as ever.

You did not have a lot of options in terms of trust. While Mobius seemed genuine, there was no way you could possibly know. The issue was that the only thing that was any level of normal in your eyes was Loki which was...laughable, but he was from your timeline. The two of you were in this together sort of because at this point you wanted to go home and it seemed he did too after the whole semantics of this whole thing. Or maybe he wanted to take over the TVA. Regardless, it gave you some hope that he might be kind and put you into your timeline where you belong.

The feelings came out of nowhere. In fact, you hadn’t even realized it happened until there was a chance for you both to chase after the Loki-variant (or Sylvie as you would learn later) and before Loki went through the portal, he reached a hand out for you, Mobius yelling and you found your feet moving on their own accord, turning to mouth ‘Sorry’ to Mobius before grabbing Loki’s hand and rushing through the portal.

Sylvie was interesting and endearing and was someone you instantly found yourself drawn to. You felt sympathetic to her story, and maybe that was dangerous. Dangerous, but gave you another sliver of hope despite the fact things were bleak. Very bleak. Being on Lamentis-1 about to explode and everyone die bleak. Despite this, the two of you sat and chatted in your booth at the bar while Loki got absolutely hammered and even began to softly serenade you in what you assumed was Asgardian (this was after he sung to the whole room) and you found yourself pulling him back down to the chairs and pulling him into a hug while you laughed.

“Loki, I have no idea what you’re saying,” you giggled, pulling away from him, “But I think you’ve had enough.”

“Darling, I think I’m just getting started,” he answered with the smoothness of butter on a hot pancake. You couldn’t help the burning of your ears and the rest of the blush that began to dance across your features. Sylvie coughed. Moment interrupted (Thankfully? You don’t know). Back to the business of the world ending and no way out. Maybe that’s what let all of you decide to unload tales of the past. Yours was boring and...uneventful comparatively which led you to remain relatively quiet as both Loki and Sylvie talked.

Hearing all of Sylvie’s plight and what brought her to that moment had both you and Loki feeling empathetic. You felt anger that this whole this was allowed and deemed ‘okay’ by the TVA. An entity that really had no checks and balances as far as you could see. You pretended to ignore Sylvie and Loki bonding. You felt your stomach tighten. Envy was ugly and green really was never your color.

But that triggered the TVA rolling up and taking the three of you back. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You weren’t expecting yourself to start fighting. Your restraints, the situation, the fact you were separated from Sylvie and more importantly Loki. You were utterly alone in your cell, screaming for them to let you out. The person interrogating you entered, tried asking you questions that you just couldn’t hear. Your head was swimming and it was almost as if you were hearing things like you were underwater. Fight or flight and apparently your entire being chose to fight.

Per someone’s orders you were moved, you lit up the moment you saw Loki and soon you were joined by Sylvie. Your restraints were removed and your eyes began watering as you rushed to Loki’s side, grabbing his hand as he gave yours a reassuring squeeze, moving so that he was shielding you from the front. The next thing you knew and before you had a moment to process, Mobius was pruned in front of you and Loki moved to shield you further.

Surprisingly, you were not entirely useless in the fight that ensued, but couldn’t help but feel entirely out of your element. The closest you had ever been to being in a fight in the past was when you were five and some girl stole your crayons and had the nerve to try to eat them.

Your adrenaline was pumping when you turned to Loki a feeling like being shocked by a plug while also being burned by a pan that had been on the stove. You were confused, Loki was yelling something. You couldn’t hear. You reach for him, desperate to calm him down or maybe it was because you subconsciously knew what was happening and you were terrified. The hot, electric feeling spread across your body before what felt like you were dropped in ice cold water and suddenly...your eyes blinked awake. You weren’t at the TVA.

Instead, you found yourself on the run (you hated yourself for missing out on all that gym time because your cardio could use some work) from a cloud that ate things. You would learn that you were in The Void, the evil vacuum of the cloud was called Alioth, and that there were even more Loki variants. One was an alligator. He was your favorite.

Your Loki also turned up and you practically threw yourself into his arms in relief, “I thought I lost you, you idiot.”

“I could say the same to you, pet,” he responded, murmuring into the crook of your shoulder. Reunions had to be cut short after you introduced the other variants, (“And this Loki is an alligator! How cool is that! He’s my favorite of all of you, no offense.”) and now you were seeking shelter to hide from Alioth and...well survive you supposed.

President Loki and the other Lokis were...a lot. In fact, there were so many Lokis that you were beginning to get a tension headache trying to keep up with everything that was going on. Some of them seemed to recognize you, including President Loki that informed you that you were late and with the wrong people (“No? I don’t even know who you are?” “You will.”)

Reuniting with Sylvie and Mobius brought even more relief. Sylvie seemed to think she could enchant the Alioth. You protested quite a bit before she was able to convince you otherwise. There was a way out. You had a chance to go back to the TVA and sort things with Mobius. Maybe go back to where you belong. Maybe stay. You weren’t sure, but it seemed Loki, your-Loki was hesitating.

Mobius was opening the portal behind you to the TVA. You stood with your hand firmly within Loki’s, fingers interlaced as you bid Sylvie a small, quiet ‘good luck, you’ve got this’. You and Loki were right by the portal, a sliver from stepping in before Loki stops, pulling you so that you two were facing each other, your back to the portal.

“What’s wrong?” you ask concerned.

“I’m staying,” Loki affirms, “To help Sylvie, to...do this.”

“Okay,” you lament. You were staying too. You tried to move to leave the portal Loki gave Mobius a heartfelt hug, which ended up being a group hug since Loki wouldn’t let go of you. In fact, as soon as Mobius was released from the hug, you were engulfed into Loki’s arms where you practically melted. The hug ended far too soon, but Loki didn’t release you, holding your face in his hands as he pressed his forehead to yours. It made your heart warm and peace washed over you.

“Loki…” you sigh, feeling an entire lifetime of emotions flooding your system, “I…”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, “I know. I feel the same...but I can’t bear to hear it.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You inquire, voice cracking. You felt frozen in place as panic began to bubble up under your skin.

“Because you’re not staying with me,” he murmurs weakly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. Remember that, please.”

Before you could respond, you were shoved by a great force. You couldn’t even react as your grip was easily broken, your sense of balance knocked out from under you. Mobius had already stepped through the portal...surely it wasn’t still up? You landed on the ground, having been knocked off your feet, but you were no longer in the void.

You felt your heart shattering. You couldn’t even cry. He was gone.

[rockettransman]

Re: The Adventure Zone, psychosis, and Justin McElroy wrecking my shit

An anecdote about navigating fiction and fantasy with psychosis

One night as work was closing up, I was listening to The Adventure Zone: Balance ep. 67 (emotions and stakes are SKY high; iykyk), when I was struck with a realization: none of these people have autonomy over their memory. They never got to choose what and who to remember or forget.

I realized that the cause for my trauma, and a large amount of psychosis triggers are just that -- not having bodily autonomy. Not being able to make decisions or having a say in what I experienced; hearing voices, mind control, parasites and spying.

As Taako spewed his fury at Lucretia for taking away his memory of his sister, I remember thinking, "wouldn't it be funny if this triggered an episode"

Familiar fog suffocated my mind. I narrowed my eyes at a coworker. What felt like electricity crackled from temple to temple. A benevolent voice advised me,

He's going to follow you home.

Why?

He just is. Better watch out.

My inner monologue morphed into a voice I recognized so instantly it made me nauseous.

"Better watch out," sang Taako, unmistakably.

I froze.

Of course there was no wizard elf whispering in my ear. He was someone who I had never entertained existing moments ago. Moments ago, he was a silly voice in a DND podcast. He was Justin McElroy, beloved podcast host and storyteller. But even after I had shut it off, he did not leave me. He was real, and he was in my brain.

"Don't worry, I won't hang long."

We're not doing this, not now.

"What are you scared of, kid?"

He did not stop. It did not stop.

The Adventure Zone triggered a psychotic spiral that left me aimlessly stumbling along one half-mile stretch downtown, muttering nonsense and twitching and crying. I circled the block like a deranged animal. And I guess in those hours, I was. There was no lucid Noah left in me.

I desperately wanted to get in my car to drive home. But I couldn't, because my coworker was in my car waiting for me. I couldn't, because he would follow me home. I couldn't, because Taako was in my car. If I approached him, he'd kill me. Why would he want to kill me?

It's hard to explain the sheer terror of feeling like you are disconnected from realty, and knowing it. It's hard to explain the fear of recognizing the bizarre behavior and thoughts in yourself, but not being able to turn them off. Being unable to trust your thoughts, being forced to follow where a delusion takes you, is a unique betrayal by your own mind. I knew it was dark, late, and I was a vulnerable-looking person in not a great area, but that didn't matter. Taako was in my car and he wouldn't leave. I was being spied on by the Bureau of Balance through the lampposts. They wanted to kill me. Why? No one told me why. Keep walking. You cannot leave.

I wanted help. I needed help. But I couldn't get out.

As much as I wanted help, no one and nothing was safe. I fled from coworkers approaching me on the street. I listened to the voice telling me the median is nice and soft and safe. Don't touch the grass, though. You will be sucked up through a portal to their world. Don't fucking touch the grass.

A man delicately approached me and asked if I needed help finding my car, seeing my keys clutched in my fist. I shook my head, wanting to cry. I knew the answer I wanted to give wouldn’t make any sense to him.

“Make the wizard in my car leave, please.” It’s all I wanted. I didn’t know where I was or what was going to make it all stop. None of it made sense, but it didn’t make any of it less real. It never stopped.

Hours later, after the sheer exhaustion of pacing and crying numbed my panic to a degree, I yielded and allowed a friend to take me home.

Storytelling is my favorite thing about humanity. But my illness prevents me so often from enjoying it, or consuming it safely and without incident. Unfortunately I've had to hang up Balance, this close to the finish line. Characters and a story that brought me so much joy and took up so much space in my mind can turn on me in moments, doing much more damage than an anxiety attack.