#god bless the freak operators man

[akakris10]

WARFARIN LEAVE THE NEW RECRUIT ALONE-- OH WAIT NO SHE'S INTO THIS. HM. should we go notify Kal'tsit.

[hourcat]

...enlighten me more about werewolf!pierre...

ok admittedly im keeping myself from having SERIOUS thoughts about him bc if i genuinely and unironically get hot for werewolf!pierre its gonna teeter on being a furry and i cant do that in good conscience. BUT. for you my beloved. i will tiptoe that line

he's a master of control first and foremost. like he's not necessarily the alpha of his pack but he's VERY smart, he knows his limits and his strengths and weaknesses and everything, you know? he's not wild and unhinged (at least, not now. when he first was turned that's a different story but even then, he operated out of a place of fear. he was never one to attack first.) even when there's a full moon he's capable of keeping grounded enough to not do serious damage outside of whatever hunt he allows himself on. he likes to flex this when people get in his face: lets the teeth really Come Out and growls and his eyes flash and whoever is the recipient of this immediately gets back in line. (note: everyone except charles who probably is incredibly hot for pierre when he does this bc he's a lil freak.)

he's also SO cocky. like obviously we know this about Regular Man Pierre but as a WEREWOLF he has a little extra swagger/self image bc he knows he's superhuman in strength and his senses and so he Can't Be Fucked With among humans. he's also pretty confident among other werewolves but he knows how to bite his tongue enough to not get himself in trouble. so he's essentially impossible to be around bc he's SO full of himself. he knows he's hot. he knows he's powerful. he's insane.

relatedly he also fucks SO much. like. ridiculous. he's got charles in his bed every night, just absolutely unhinged. he's got a wrought iron bedframe bc they've broken SO many wooden ones bc he's just ALL power and passion and hunger all the time. god bless charles i cannot imagine getting the railing you do every single night

[walkswithdave]

Now write it as a conversation between two aesop's fable characters

Once upon a time, there was a wise old owl named Athena who lived in a tree in the forest. One day, a clever fox named Reynard stumbled upon a strange contraption in the clearing.

Reynard: "Athena, come look at this strange device I have found! It appears to have a small box with a clear front and a camera inside. There is also a monitor that displays what the camera sees."

Athena: "Ah, that is a Video Feedback Machine. It creates a closed-loop system where the output of the camera is continuously fed back to the monitor, resulting in the generation of complex and dynamic visual patterns."

Reynard: "Fascinating! I see the operator can move the camera and adjust the settings on the device to change the image on the monitor."

Athena: "Indeed, the operator can exert a high degree of control over the visual output by manipulating the camera's position and orientation in relation to the monitor. This is

Now write it for a 5 year old to understand

Once upon a time, there was a magic box that could make pretty pictures. Inside the box, there was a little camera that takes pictures and a TV screen that shows the pictures. The camera looks at the TV screen and takes a picture of the picture it sees. Then it shows that picture on the TV screen again. And it keeps doing that over and over.

It's like if you look at your reflection in a mirror and your reflection looks at another mirror, and it keeps going on and on. So, the pictures the magic box makes keep changing and they look like different shapes and colors. It's like a magic show that you can make by yourself.

Now write this in very religious overtones with overt religious symbology

The Video Feedback Machine is a blessed contraption, a gift from the heavens that allows us to glimpse the mysteries of the divine. Within its plexiglass enclosure, a holy camera captures the light of the divine and reflects it upon a sacred monitor, creating a mesmerizing feedback loop of divine energy.

As the operator, we are granted the privilege to guide and shape this sacred energy, moving the camera with the grace and precision of an angel, adjusting its angle and distance to uncover the hidden patterns of the divine will.

The four control dials, for brightness, contrast, saturation and tint, are the instruments of the holy spirit, allowing us to fine-tune the image and reveal the true nature of the divine. And as the image is mirrored on the large HD monitor, we are reminded that all of us are but a reflection of the divine will.

The image being created on the monitor in the plexiglass box is a reflection of the divine, it is a reminder that our own world is a complex feedback loop

Now write it like a new-age hippy who has just smoked a lot of weed.

Dude, like, have you ever seen like, this totally awesome machine, man? It's like, it creates these, like, crazy patterns and shapes, you know? And you can, like, control it all with this, like, yoke thing, right? And you can, like, make it go forward and backward and all around, and it's

Mix in heavy Jesus-freak religiosity with this hippy stoner character

Dude, like, have you ever seen like, this totally awesome machine, man? It's like, it creates these, like, crazy patterns and shapes, you know? And you can, like, control it all with this, like, yoke thing, right? And you can, like, make it go forward and backward and all around, and it's like, whoa, it's like Jesus is controlling it, you know? And the colors and shapes it makes, it's like, it's the beauty of God's creation, man. And you can adjust the brightness and contrast and all that, it's like, you're playing with the tools of the Lord, dude. And you can, like, watch the big screen, and it's like

Now write it like it's a Hemingway story

The Video Feedback Machine was a simple yet complex contraption. It had a small plexi-glass box with a small HD camera and an HD monitor that displayed what the camera saw. The operator would sit in front of it, using something much like a yoke on an airplane to move the camera forward, backwards, and 360 degrees around its axis. The operator would manipulate the camera's angle and distance to create intricate and sophisticated visual patterns.

The operator would use four control dial

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 9.2

"Oh my god!"  Your shriek nearly deafened the yaksha while your nails dug into his shoulder and back.  The wind whipped your hair into both of your faces, much to his dismay as he struggled to keep track of his footing.  "This is crazy! This is awesome!" Another leap and your heart dropped to your stomach in a fashion that sucked the breath out of your lungs.  "W-wait this is terrifying!  Xiao!  Slow down!"  

You asked for this yet have the audacity to panic?  Xiao tensed under the increasing grip around his body and made another leap.  Well, a 'leap' is a bit of an understatement; whether he was teleporting or zipping through the air, you couldn't tell--it happened so fast your mind couldn't keep up.  The two of you were nearing the top of Mount Tianheng, and with every 'jump' he took you'd look down to find another fifty or so feet added to the distance between you two and the ground.

Just as Xiao was beginning to think you wanted him to stop, an exasperated laugh left your lips.  "This is awesome!"

The yaksha clicked his tongue at the myriad of sounds you were making.  First you were screaming with excitement, then terror, then laughing, and now you're gasping?  Will you just make up your mind? Are you scared or not scared?  He couldn't keep up with your quick switches just as you couldn't keep up with his speed.

And then there was the fact that you asked him specifically to carry you up the mountain, not climb up with you or merely teleport to the top.  Was this the duty of a boy friend?  He didn't recall you ordering Aether to carry you at all during your travels.  Minus the time you had your leg clawed by that lawachurl, but that doesn't really count--

His feet lightly landed onto the grass at the top of the mountain and he stilled, stealing a glance at your profile.  "We're here."  Archons, your grip finally relaxed against his stinging skin.  He was expecting that classic dumbfounded look on your face, but you pulled away with the widest--and dumbest--grin once your feet lowered to the ground.

"That was amazing-!" You nearly lost your balance from the vertigo of travelling so quickly, but Xiao grabbed your arm before you could stumble over the edge of the cliff.  "Can we do that again?"

"You can't be serious," his eyes narrowed in disdain.  

"One hundred percent! Come on, please?"

Wha-What is this all of a sudden?!  Xiao averted his eyes the second your pleading ones took hold.  He let go of your arm as his gaze fell to the grass.  

You couldn't contain the gasp within your lips, "You're...blushing?"  You don't remember if it's happened before, but the very tips of his ears were pink and it was painfully obvious in the sunlight of late morning.  "Xiao, the Vigilant Yaksha, BLUSHING?!"

"I suggest you keep your quips to a minimum unless you--"

"I can't believe this is happening! What did I do to make you blush? You're ears are bright red!"  Your hands cupped the sides of your face as you freaked out.  He was so neutral when it came to emotion, but the past sixteen hours or so he's shown you more of his vulnerable side.  But the adeptus was visibly showing emotion! "This never happened before!"

"There's nothing timid about you, having the courage to mock me.  So fight me," he started to raise his glare from the ground.  "How long do you think your body will last against my blows?"

"Rex Lapis must've blessed me-!"  

In your excitement, you failed to remember that the ledge was right behind you.  One second you were laughing your ass off with a face as bright red as Xiao's, and the next you were flailing breathlessly in the air attempting to find solid ground.  Xiao's figure shrunk at the top of the cliff as you plummeted.  The shock rendered you unable to scream and instead you gasped for breath as the wind whistled in your ears.

Xiao lifted his gaze in time to watch you fall over, and he simply moved so that his gaze could still follow your shrinking figure.  "It's a wonder humans survived this long," he muttered with a slightly amused expression.  Does she not realize she has her wind glider?  He failed to notice the corner of his lips curling upward.  

He had no intention of letting you plummet to your death.  But after the stunt you just pulled on him, he figured it wouldn't hurt to tease you a bit too.  You were by no means anywhere near the ground or any other hazardous objects; his enhanced vision and depth perception confirmed it.  Why not let you fall a bit?  Maybe your wits would return to you and you'd actually remember the glider attached to your back.

Three...four...five...Xiao counted the seconds.  You were nearly half-way down the cliffside.  ...Six...She's not going to remember, is she?  Seven..."Tch." He prepared to jump.

I-I'm going to die!  You finally managed to inhale a reasonable amount of air, not daring to peek behind you at the ground that was closing in.  Your thoughts were racing with nothing but panic.  Think, think! Think of something! You wanted to smack yourself when you remembered who accompanied you.  He wouldn't just let you die like this, it was stupid of you to even forget that much!  You involuntarily reached for the cliffside where Xiao was now nothing but a miniscule dot in the distance.  

"Xiao!"

Warm arms wrapped themselves around you the instant his name fell from your lips, and the familiar sensation of teleporting enveloped you.  You spun around and hugged him as tightly as you could the second your feet touched the ground.  He didn't even tense up this time--

"You didn't remember your glider," he pointed out nonchalantly.  Almost teasingly.

"That's why you just stood there?!"  He grumbled something you couldn't hear and returned your embrace with his head buried at the crook of your neck.  His ears were still red.  Are you telling me this is how he acts when he's shy?!  

The two of you stayed in that position for awhile, never quite loosening your hold on the other as if to ensure they wouldn't float away like an anemo slime or a bloaty floaty.  A cool breeze slid across your skin--an intimate gesture Xiao wouldn't dare outright commit, much less think of.  And yet the wind entangled itself in your hair much like his hand would clasp around your nape.  It seemed to embody the long-lost gentleness of the yaksha.  It was subtle.  Soft.  An indirect display of affection.  Maybe it was just your imagination.

Just awhile longer, Xiao's heart yearned as he held you close until rational thought returned to power.  Your absence would sting more now that he's seen you, but that didn't take away from the fact that this visit allowed the sealing of your bond, and therefore saved you from a painful demise for the time being.  The last thing he wanted was for you to return to Childe, but maybe this is what would prevent his karma from touching you.  The farther you are from him, the safer you'd be.

But for right now, just awhile longer, he'll allow himself to drown in your warmth.

...................

"You seem more than eager to get back to work, Mezzetin," Childe teased as he led you through the halls of the palace.  The two of you had just returned to Snezhnaya, but the Tsaritsa had apparently no intentions of letting either of you rest after your long journey.  

"Don't mistake my happiness for the Lantern Rite as happiness for the Tsaritsa's operations.  I'm only cooperating to keep the peace in Teyvat."  

"So, when are you going to tell me what you and Xiao did?"

"Excuse me?  Since when is my private life any of your business?"

"I have the right to know since you so blatantly disobeyed my orders not to leave the harbor."  Childe grabbed the door handle and faced you.  "I expected more professionalism from you, but honestly, I'm not at all surprised," he baited with narrowed eyes.  "I could tell the Tsaritsa, you know."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at the thought of facing her again.  Something about that nightmare you had when you were with Xiao ignited a vague fear of her that you didn't really have before.  You swallowed hard before jutting your chin up at the harbinger.  "Do it."

"Oh?"  Childe squinted as he towered over you.  

"Do it," you repeated.  "Who do you think she'll discipline more, since it was a certain harbinger's idea to bring me along and didn't properly watch me?"  Childe stared at you for a few silent seconds before twisting the door handle and entering Dottore's lab without another word.  Yeah, that's what I thought.

"GAHHHHH!"  A deafening, sickening cry of pain snapped you out of your gloating session.  It was much like the rest that you've heard; the test subjects of Dottore were often strangers to mercy.  But unlike the trials before, there were no piles of bodies lying in the middle of the arena.

"Did he just start for the day?"  You forcefully peeled your eyes away from the suffering man and kept them on Childe.  It would be unusual if he did; he started in the early morning hours, but you and Childe had arrived in mid-afternoon.  

"Dunno," he shrugged slightly.  

"Ah! Childe."  Dottore noticed your presences and gave a signature manic grin, his arms spreading wide.  "We have made a breakthrough!"

"This doesn't look like a breakthrough to me," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.  Anger flickered across the masked man's face before he reset his eyes on his fellow harbinger.

"This is the fifth subject of the day."  The man's cold stare eyed the suffering Fatui agent with something similar to a sadistic excitement.  "It appears your idea to bring that brat with you succeeded."

You didn't hear Dottore, intent on watching the Fatui agent closely.  He had finally stopped shrieking, and he pushed himself to his feet rather unsteadily while wiping the sweat away from his forehead.  He was healthy despite being drenched in sweat and breathing heavily while he recovered from the subsiding pain.  You let out a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding in.  You didn't have to watch another person die at your feet--

Wait a minute.  He wasn't dying.

A cool shiver crawled down your spine at the realization, and you flinched when a manic laugh escaped Dottore.  "That was the original serum at work.  How's that for a breakthrough, brat?"

"That's...impossible," you uttered with wide eyes.

"Thank your superior for making it possible."

Your attention slid to Childe, who didn't bother to look you in the eye.  His expression was unreadable, and it remained that way when he escorted you to your room in silence.  His presence couldn't feel more hostile in that moment.

"You...my bond...," you choked when the two of you were at the door of your room.  "You lied.  You used me! You used our bond for your own selfish purposes!  How could you?"

"Don't start this, Mezzetin," a weary sigh left him as he turned to you.  His allegedly guilty appearance only infuriated you.  

"Outside, now."

The second the two of you were outside the palace walls, you let yourself snap into a fit of rage.  Childe had barely started to turn around when an ice shard shot at his face, slicing across his cheek.  His blood splattered onto the snow, and he wiped at his face to examine his blood on his fingers.  "Mezzetin--"

"Don't 'Mezzetin' me!"  Hundreds more icicles shot at him in a flurry until he had no choice but to defend himself and summon his hydro blades to parry the blows.  "This was the last straw!  I'll kill you!"

"Then I'll be more than happy to give you a fight."  Despite his usual excitement when it came to battle, he was calm and collected, even so much as cold and distant.  He lacked the usual spark fighting always gave him.  His eyes were empty and lacking of enthusiasm.

"Tch."  Your vision glinted in the sunlight as the temperature surrounding you dropped below zero.  Snow whipped through the air to create a barricade that caged the two of you in a small arena.  The blizzard made the snowflakes like needles that could cut through skin if one got too close to the edge.  Your own powers seldom hurt you, but in your anger, a few rogue icicles cut across your forehead, arms, and your back.

At the pace you were going at, it was self-destructive.

Childe noted this as he parried your every attack despite his blades turning frozen solid now.  "Mezzetin!  Keep this up, and I won't hold back!"  His warning fell on deaf ears.

"What makes you think I want you to hold back?  I'm settling this here and NOW!"  The snow beneath his feet erupted, sending him spiraling out of the eye of the storm and into the blizzard's rage.  You summoned your polearm without hesitation and began to walk towards him.  

His arms were stuck to his blades, which were stuck in the ground.  He must've attempted to summon a new set and accidentally froze his limbs.  He watched you approach, hunched over to shield himself from the blizzard.

"You said visiting him would be good for me!"  Your screams were carried away by the wind.  "That you realized your own selfishness!  This was nothing but more manipulation, wasn't it? You're NOTHING but a lying monster!"  The wind grew harsher.  Your blade grew sharper once you were a few feet from him.

Cold eyes looked down upon the Tsaritsa's war dog.  What a pathetic site it was; an esteemed harbinger on his knees before you.  A harsh kick to his jaw dislodged his hands from the ice they were trapped in, and more blood was splattered onto the snow.

"That's it," a smile of satisfaction spread across Childe's lips, making your eyes narrow in disgust.  "You're finally showing potential."  He sat up with his back to you.  "If you constantly fight like this, I'd listen to you more carefully."

"Shut up--!"  Your lance stabbed at his figure, but in one fluid motion he swung around and deflected your blade with his hand.  A sudden burst of electricity sent you flying several feet backwards.  "Ngh!"

"But unfortunately for you, ojou-chan, you misinterpreted the entire situation."  Your clearing vision settled on the electro delusion that glinted at his hip.  His figure stood over you and a sharp, hot pain tore through your side.

"Gah!"  

"I have the right to discipline my subordinates as I see fit," he twisted his blade and dug it deeper into you, completely uncaring that you were squirming around and twitching from the electric shocks pulsing through your body.  "Listen closely, girlie, because I won't say it again."  You desperately clawed at his weapon, but he held it firmly in place and refused to remove it.  "You needn't tell me what you learned from Mr. Zhongli or your adeptus boyfriend.  I don't care for that information.

"My bringing you back to Liyue was truly for your own benefit, and it just so happens it was for the Tsaritsa's benefit as well.  Make no mistake Mezzetin, I am on your side when it comes to private life.  But when it comes to work and the Tsaritsa, my loyalty lies with Snezhnaya.

"I don't care if you don't believe me.  If you so badly want to escape the Tsaritsa's grasp, you have much to learn.  Patience, for starters."  He ripped his blade out of you.  "Don't take this too personally, ojou-chan.  I don't condone disorderly conduct from anyone under my supervision."

[thedivinedemom]

An AU of DC with a mass crossover of PS4 properties.

Provisional name: Players Searching for Detectable Changes (Get the pun?)

The setup:

This is the future of DC, a world where the old guard has slowly withdrawn and the newer generations have risen to the occasion. The original Titans in particular, most of which have formed the new Justice League while many other, very similar teams had started to form across the world. One of which was a resurgence of the Teen Titans, led by an older and purified Raven. She wanted to make the Teen Titans something akin as it was for her, a place to belong and learn to use one's powers.

The first 'class' of such individuals include:

Stargirl (of the now-disbanded JSA and still getting used to the Starrod)

Blue Beetle III (Freshly attached to his alien symbiote and freaking out a bit)

Robin V (to work on his anger issues, mostly at the new Batman's request)

Kaldur (a half Atlantean half metahuman who is struggling with his identity and the surface world, Aquaman feels a kinship for the boy seeing their similarities)

Static Shock (a promising new hero but little experience working outside his city or in groups)

Mary Marvel (she's... she's going through alot. Fresh from a coma, her brother is distant as he acts as the new Wizard, and she may be, sorta kinda, being corrupted by Black Adam's gifted power)

The team was rough and there was plenty of head butting (Mostly between Stargirl and Robin/Damian as one is almost the unanimous leader while the other thinks he should be) but they were getting there. They were more of a clean up crew for the Justice League, they did more than the "kiddie missions" that the Outsiders didn't do, and they meant more than the PR grab that was the International team. Though they didn't seem to amount to more than that. They still did their best, pushing past the silent ridicule, as they went about their missions.

This may be why tempers were so high that day.

One day, outside a little city by the name of Weller's Point, the prisoner transport for the villain Plasmus had an "accident". Released and awakened the creature went on a rampage, heading ever closer to the populated area. Luckily, the mentor of the New Teen Titans could teleport. The new team did fairly well in the fight, though they did struggle a bit as Plasmus was not a being where simple brute force would work. It made the fight tricky and more than a bit... messy.

Messy enough that juvenile and emotionally compromised Mary Marvel lashed out against the downed villain but was stopped by her teammates... things escalated from there. Restraint turned blows and the whole team struggled to stop their powerhouse without hurting her. The ones who do the best are Raven, Stargirl, Blue Beetle, and oddly Static.

While both of the former could use their abilities to restrain her to a very effective degree Static was actively draining her of strength, or at least of the electic aura she was radiating and blasting with. Frustrated, done with the situation, and a bit petty Mary launched her largest attack yet by saying her magical word.

SHAZAM.

Virgil did what he did best, he handled that lightning as it came crashing down towards Mary and the Titans restraining her. Well, he tried. The bolt was just too powerful, too unlike anything he had ever encountered. He could not handle it and it was dissipating, if anything it clung to him or tried to jump towards the girl. He had to get rid of it and he had to get rid of it quickly, safely too if he could help it.

He shoved it into the ground, into the power lines. He did it as carefully as he could, trying to prevent overload or flashover as guided the charge into the power grid.

What happened next was a combination of a few things. 1. The Mystic and transformative properties of the Lightning, 2. It is effectively being filtered through a bang baby, 3. The kryptonite power plant owned by, provided by, and operated by Lexcorp.

This interaction, this new charge, cycling through the power grid interacted strangely with a number of devices but none more so than PlayStation 4s and the devices connected to them. This new electricity changed things, literally. It brought fantasy into reality.

Whatever game was loaded into became a part of our reality in a small way. Sometimes TVs, Controllers, and even the system changed to reflect items from the game but the bigger change came with the Players. If a person was playing their console during the surge then they would become a metahuman with abilities based on the playable character they were playing.

The city, the county even, was now flooded by an abundance of metahumans and items of varying power of devastation. Static felt horrible.

He couldn't help but compare what has happened here to what happened in Dakota City but on a wider scale. And this time it was his fault. His sense of responsibility wouldn't, couldn't, let that stand. He had to fix his mistake and his team was dragged along for the ride.

The story to follow is a mix of Final Crisis and Kingdom Come with a bit of the Young Justice cartoon in events and themes, a few twists and likely a bit lighter in tone but to the DC geeks this should give a rough idea… Maybe a bit of Marvel's Civil War but hopefully not the rushed knee-jerk mess that that ended up being.

But it's here that I start having issues with my planning. One part in worry as outside the set up we start to follow the perspective of OCs (something rarely smiled upon) and another part in wondering which OC to focus on.

Now, one thing I love in fiction is progressive powers and the conflict escalating from the different paths people take in said progression. In that vein, I have a pair of protags in mind as well.

The main two/co-protagonists:

The Lawkeeper- a cop before the change and now a member of a task force made up largely of those affected by the surge. A gamer, a man of color, and a believer of the spirit of the law. He doesn't always get along with his fellow officers but he believes in what the blue does. He believes that an organized response is what is best.

His abilities are based on those of Jesse Fades of Control. Meaning he has tremendous psychic potential but he needs 3 things to reach his full potential.

1.Items to bond to so he can generate these psychic abilities. Jesse's used altered items of her universe to get thematic abilities from them (ex: a safe to generate a shield, a carousel horse for a dash ability, ect). Here he can use items generated by the surge.

2. A patron/partner entity to help guide, give insights, and empower. It also let's the user enforce reality, basically becoming an anti reality warper.

3. A bonded morph weapon or a weapon to come to his hand when called.

The knight- a recent college graduate who instantly decided to go the route of the caped hero. She, after figuring out how to get her powers to work, instantly went the route of a caped crusader. Going out to the streets, saving lives, stopping instances of surge item abuse, and (in the humble opinion of the local Police Department) getting in the way of operations. In her opinion they were taking too long to get things done.

Her abilities are based on those of Prince Noctis of Final Fantasy XV. This means she has tremendous physical and magical potential but like the above she has a number of check marks needed to gain access to the character's full power.

1. A gem/crystal to draw power from.

2. 13 magical weapons to boost strength. The generated game weapons will do and I have most picked out in a way that likely would help the plot progress.

3. The blessing of 5-6 gods.

4. A power ring of some king to channel all this power.

I keep debating the two above as I do like the idea of both of them climbing in power and clashing over conflicting ideals of what to do with their power. At the same time, I think that just smooshing aspects of both into one (which is actually where they started, a single character) and play off the different ideologies of how best to help people from within her friend group and precinct along with internal conflict. Maybe have the one be a fellow officer they butt heads with because of the... precarious nature

Another OC I was thinking on, keeping with the theme of what to do when you have power, is a thief who played Persona 5. Like both of the above they would be crippled in their ability to use their abilities without a way to fake the connection to. In this case, without the Mementos App, they would need an item that could affect or enter the hearts of others. Luckily, more unlucky really, there are plenty of items floating around that can do just that. Namely Keyblades.

Most other Players are an odd mix but most are variations of the Shooter build. Peak physical humans who heal quickly and often have bullet time. But there are enough other variations to cause trouble. Demigods of unreal strength, men and women who can easily tap into a patron for powers from the outside, 2 variations of spider powers, cat eyed men and women who can cast magic with simple gestures, and so much more. But the real issue was the first two, the demigods without a parent to protect them and those easily connected to a divine source.

The disembodied New Gods of Apocalypse were very happy with those groups. For how bad this can be please look at what happened to Mary Marvel in canon Final Crisis.

Thoughts and opinions would be appreciated.

[kai5621]

Deja vu [Heisenberg x OC]

Warning: age gap, slow burn, platonic to romantic relationship. Grammer issues (english is my first language criiii) . Child abuse, family abuse, death (not major character ). Eventual smut (maybe?）

Note: OK !!!! SO after drawing a bunch of RE8 OCs I finally could resist my self writing my own story about it. Cuz damm Heisenberg stole all my heart and I have no complains about it.

This is my first time writing a fanfic, so I will try my best !! And lastly-----

HEISENBERG DESERVES SOOO MUCH MROE LOVE.  

And here’s a little potrait thet I drew for the oc (as for why I didn’t draw heisenberg as well, is bcuz im shit at drawing males ┭┮﹏┭┮)

1.

The first time Heisenberg met Erin, she was only eight, can barely reach his waist and always be smiling everyday, like an every single child would at her age. She came to this shitty village with her dad, which claims to be her only family member. They are obviously foreigners to the villagers, as no one remembered there’s anyone in this place would have a such strong British accent, therefore they must be new.

Their family history has remained a mystery to most of them, oddly enough, only a few people who are about eighty or ninety years old do recall their family name, and were quite surprised to see that Erin’s father is back here again. Although every single one of them would shoot him with fierce glances that are not so friendly, even towards Erin. Except for Luiza, but even though her kindness was mainly for the poor little girl.

“I don’t understand, Charles. If you decided to leave this place before with such determination, why bother came back?” She asked her father sternly, while watching Erin just quietly standing behind him. She was thin, with a long, dark raven hair tied into a loose pony tail. But she does look endearing, those big, innocent watery eyes could gain everyone’s sympathy.

“That’s none of your business, and why does it even matter to you?” He seemed annoyed when answering this question, he roughly grabbed Erin’s wrist, without looking any of the people here, he just simply left, leaving others remain in silent confusion. Some younger villagers did ask Luiza about Erin’s origin, but all the time she just shooked her head, signed heavily.

 “May mother Miranda bless that little girl. She does not deserve such man as her father.....”  

Of course, Heisenberg would never missed such local news from the village. He did pay a visit to the new “guests” before informing Miranda and his siblings. The appearance of new faces surely hooked his curiosity quite high, but to be honest, he doesn’t even understand why he was that excited, as surely they would probably just end like the locals here, worshiping Miranda like she’s an actual god, and then would went missing mysteriously but eventually end up on her cold, metal operating table, with chest being cut open, blood splatters all around the body, while the Cadou parasite just devouring the remains.

Didn’t someone mentioned the family also has a daughter? Ah, then perhaps that lucky little thing would go to his sister’s castle and can becomes one of the “maid”. Just another victim, Heisenberg thought to himself, he could not hide his grin back. Holding his hammer at the back of his shoulder, he walked quickly to that infamous cottage where the new family is settled, a few quite whispers can be heard during his journey, the villagers were all surprised to see the presence of the metal lord, and naturally inquiring behind his journey.

Just like before, Heisenberg ignored all of them,

When he finally reached the shabby wooden door, of the cottage, he didn’t even bother knocking, just pushed the door wide open violently, using his ridiculous strength meanwhile announcing his arrival.      

“Well, well, there’s been news all around the village about the new family, and I thought I could a pay a little visit, to get to know the new members! You are welcome, by the way......”

 But when all he saw was a little girl standing by the dinning table, looking confused and stunned at him, his smug smile disappeared quickly, and even the eyes behind his dark specs were filled with momentary surprise.

“Uh, sir?” She asked quietly, putting the tray of cookies down on the table in a panic.

“Are you.... my father’s guest? I’m really sorry, he will be a away for a quite long time, and I’m not sure if.....”

 He stood there for a moment, and then realized that she must be the daughter, although she’s much much younger than he anticipated. He cut her off before she finished the sentence : “Huh, so you don’t know who I am ?”

 She looked so lost, after blinked her eyes a few times, she nervously said : “Sorry sir, I’m afraid I don’t.”

 Heisenberg was never good with children, never, he didn’t really know what to do, after all he wasn’t expecting to meet a child who probably doesn’t even know what a dick is. So, they just stood where they were before, and staring at each other awkwardly in silence, to a point that even the little girl started to feel uncomfortable. She looked around quickly, trying to find something that could resolve this situation, then her eyes fixed on the tray of cookies on the table.

“Um, maybe...do you want to have a cookie, sir?”

The man with the hammer went speechless, he coughed a few times, put his hammer down next to the door frame, and blankly replied back with a tiny bit of fluster.

“Alright then. ”

   2.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Heisenberg would never imagined himself sitting in a old cottage, eating chocolate cookies and drinking teas like a normal human, while chatting with an eight years old girl.

Yes, he’s never good with kids, why would he? Being brought by a psycho bitch means he shouldn’t have any sympathy towards anything, everyone in this village had a good taste about his temper before, even his “Lord” title makes it too intimidate for anyone to have any contact with him. Thus, he never had a decent conversation with anyone else besides his cursed family. Frankly speaking, they were not really conversations, more like endless quarrels.    

He had a quick look around in the room, when Erin went to the kitchen to make tea. This place is shabby, there’s no doubt about it. No painting, no decorations, only an old wool blanket laying down on the floor of the living room. He could see a few photo frames on the bookshelf, cover by dusts. He tried to have to closer look, but all he could see was three people standing together, presumably a family photo that was taken a long time ago.

“Here’s your tea, sir. And there’s milk and sugar.” She was holding a big tray, walking carefully towards table and almost got tripped by the chair. Heisenberg almost chuckled at her clumsy yet cute actions, but he remained silent, and finished his ninth cookie.

“Well, thanks, little one.” He said simply, then started to sip his tea. He saw Erin was standing next to the table like a lost little lamb, he can’t help but chuckled a bit, gesturing her towards the seat across him.

“ Oh come on, no need to be so frightened! I won’t eat ya.”

She was a bit hesitate at first, but eventually took his offer, sit across the table facing him. Although the teapot blocked half of her face.

“So....” Heisenberg started again, with his smug smile back on his face: “You are new here aren’t you, with your family.”

“Yes. Me and my father came a week ago, from England. But he used to live here, at least that’s what I know. ”

That made his curiosity even higher. An outsider, that originally lived here, how interesting, and how did they even escaped this twisted place.

“Where’s your father now?”

This question let her seemed a bit troubled, she shooked her head, looking disappointed : “I don’t know, sir. He said he’s busy, and that’s it.”

His grin became wider:  “And didn’t your daddy tell you, that do not let strangers come into your house while you are alone?”

To his surprise, she did not seem scared, but instead she tilted her head as she was a bit confused, and answered him back politely.

“But I didn’t let you in, sir. You just opened the door and, broke in........”    

 Heisenberg burst into laughter right after he heard this answer, it was really loud, even the teapot and the cups on the table started to shake a bit, but thankfully Erin didn’t notice, she was completely stunned by his reaction and didn’t know what to do. She thought she probably offend him by saying that. But the truth is, Heisenberg is not mad at all, this child’s unintentional boldness is exactly what he likes.  

“ Oh yes! I did break into your house, and aren’t you scared?”

“Should I be scared?” She calmly asked him back, filling his cup again with more tea. “I was tho, but you seem like a nice guy. At least I don’t think a bad person would eat my cookies and having tea with me. If you want harm me you would've done this way earlier.”

He could have so much fun with this kid, Heisenberg though to himself. An outsider was rare enough on its own, no praying, no worshiping, and he won’t hear all those “Miranda bless us” shit. Although, it’s quite ironic that his first decent conservation in 20 was held with a freaking child.

But he’s not complaining. He finished his tea, looking around the room for the last time then shoot his glance back on her. He stood up, ignoring the girl’s skeptical look, Heisenberg chuckled a bit.

 With that, he simply waved his hand, and left the house.

“Well, thank you for your service little one, I’m afraid I must got now. But I’m sure we will meet again soon.”

 He grabbed his hammer by the door frame, opened the door in a swift motion.

“And send my greetings to your father, will you, little one?”

[svnaslove]

request for tsukki with a crush who has a crackhead energy and she manages the team

this is such a fun hc, thank you for requesting! sorry i took so long on it, i’ve been really lagging on school, i still am but i had some down time hehe

Tsukishima crushing on manager with crackhead energy

genre: absolute crack, the source of where crack cracks the crack. crack. and a dash of fluff on that crack.

warnings: n/a

oh my god where do we even start

tsukishima has no idea why he likes you he hates his head for being such a simp for you or where ever da fuk this feeling is coming from

like the amount of energy that you have, jumping around and always cracking jokes and doing the upmost unbelievable shit, he doesn’t get it, why does he want to see you all the time?

the amount of crackhead energy that you have in your body can beat tanaka, nishinoya, and hinata COMBINED, bc of that you ended up being good friends with them

one time you guys were heading out in the volleyball bus to a match and nishinoya bet that you wouldn’t try to ride on top of the bus instead of going inside of it while driving to the match

YES ON TOP OF THE BUS, YOU CLIMBED THAT BITCH AND SAT ON IT😭😭

poor ukai nearly died of a heart attack when the bus started driving and noya and tanaka were dying of laughter and ukai thought something fishy was going on so he stopped the bus and went outside and saw you just sitting on top of the bus like “yo wassup ukai mah dawg”

Tsukishima was absolutely without words “why tf did you do that” “why tf did you not join me?”

bitch had no idea what to reply, just put his headphones back on bc he himself started wondering why he didn’t join you, congratulations, you broke Tsukishima Kei

and to top it all off, you can be an absolute crackhead one second and the next you’re paying the most attention ever to a match and writing mad notes on that clipboard of yours

when tsuki first saw you do that he felt like he just go slapped in the face😭

HOW TF DOES SHE DO IT

ngl he kinda tried to uncrush on you

it didn’t work😔✊

he really tried doe, f in the chat for tsuki

he was really out her trying to avoid you at all costs but you would just be EVERYWHERE

after a while tanaka and nishinoya got on that tsukishima had a crush on you, not hinata doe, he’s so clueless smh

they told you and you were like “wait dat kinda make sense doe😳” because tsuki was always weird around you and he would be ✨extra mean✨ and ✨extra stiff✨

so you, nishinoya, tanaka and hinata were plotting on how to take the upmost advantage of you situation

hinata kept suggesting to try to make tsukishima as flustered as possible just so that everytime tsuki called him short he would bring up that exact moment

“hinata how are we gonna do this, the only emotion that boi shows is 🧂salt🧂”

so you all decided upon it and the next day

poor tsuki, he was just a simp and he didn’t know how to handle his emotions and he was about to be absolutely attacked 😭

you walked in to the volleyball practice with the shortest shorts in history

the boys were practicing their spikes and daichi spiked noya in the face by accident because he noticed you first lkdfjsdlkf

“sorry guys, all of my other shorts are in the wash hehe”

u fukin liar

you looked over to tsukishima and the POOR MAN

HE JUST DROPPED EVERYTHING AND WAS JUST STANDIN STIFF AS A BOARD AND STARING AT YOU FKLJDS

tsukishima.exe has stopped functioning

you two locked eyes and you smiled at him and he legit lagged 

yamaguchi was next to him and he thought tsuki was having a heart attack LMAOO

and the entire practice long you were throwing the CHEESIEST pick-up lines ever at tsuki, the poor soul

“ hey, hEY TSUKI! Are you a parking ticket? because you got fine written all over you” 

noya literally chocked on his water because he was right next to him and heard it ldskfjs

“are you from Tennessee, because you’re the only ten i see~”

“no y/n, im Japanese.” 

“ 😐😑 ur no fun”

he’s sitting on the bench on water break and you just plop next to him and throw your head on his shoulder dramatically 

“So tsuki-man, aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

at this point the poor man is done for, he is so embarrassed by the entire practice’s event of you throwing yourself all over him that he can’t even function enough to be salty

“Y/N can i ask you something?”

“mm?” your head still resting on his shoulder.

“why are you acting...weird...around me”

you giggled at his question yet still didn’t budge from his shoulder.

when you first started, you were going to see tease him just in a friendly manner, but afterwards you started noticing how cute he was whenever he would try to hide his flushed cheeks whenever you came nearby. ‘do i have a crush on him too?’ was the only sentence running over and over in your mind. and now, with your head pressed on his shoulder your stomach sending butterflies through you, your had decided that you did. what else could explain how you all of the sudden felt a little nervous as the time passed by?

“a lil birdie told me you liked me”

you felt him stiffen under you, the days events tired him so much he didn’t even know how to respond, he just,, sat there and tried to look for an answer to give you but all that came up to him was tv static.

“i think i like you too, you know” you said, holding your breath, hoping this wouldn’t end up embarrassing for you too.

tsukishima’s body relaxed a little and you could faintly hear how fast his heart was beating. 

“that’s good” was the only words he could muster out as he slightly stuttered.

you reached over and lightly held his hand, the intertwined hands of you both were semi-concealed as you just sat there and tsuki took his break, drinking water and watching the rest of the team practice.

noya, hinata, and tanaka were walking by to check up on 

Operation Fluster Tsukishima™

and noya was the first to notice your hands.

“WHAT THE HELL”

“wtf noya, what is it?” tanaka boi was confused as hell

“YOU TWO ARE HOLDING HANDS??!?(&$*(@&” poor hinata stil believed holding hands with the opposite gender could make you pregnant, bless his soul.

tsukishima literally bolted up from his seat as if his seat had those deject buttons from cartoons. 

“wtf y/n why you holding by hand” 

awkward award goes to tsukishima kei

he started walking away towards yamaguchi who was seeing everything that was going down from the beginning was nagging tsukishima to tell you that he liked you already

“what the hell tsuki-man, we were just having such a heartfelt moment”

you could see that he slightly smirked as he walked away.

and there you were.

left with these three knuckleheads

all freaking out.

“YOU ACTUALLY LIKED HIM WTF )&&^&$*#$()*#)”

________________________________________________________________

that was an absolute rollercoaster and i don’t regret a single word, thank you anon for requesting this, i didn’t know i needed this absolute ride😌✨

[castielchitaqua]

kaddish, allen ginsberg

I Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm—and your memory in my head three years after—And read Adonais’ last triumphant stanzas aloud—wept, realizing how we suffer— And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember, prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of Answers—and my own imagination of a withered leaf—at dawn— Dreaming back thru life, Your time—and mine accelerating toward Apocalypse, the final moment—the flower burning in the Day—and what comes after, looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed— like a poem in the dark—escaped back to Oblivion— No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream, trapped in its disappearance, sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worshipping each other, worshipping the God included in it all—longing or inevitability?—while it lasts, a Vision—anything more? It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder, Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shouldering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant—and the sky above—an old blue place. or down the Avenue to the south, to—as I walk toward the Lower East Side—where you walked 50 years ago, little girl—from Russia, eating the first poisonous tomatoes of America—frightened on the dock— then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?—toward Newark— toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards— Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school, and learning to be mad, in a dream—what is this life? Toward the Key in the window—and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk—in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward the Yiddish Theater—and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now—Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstoops doors and dark boys on the street, fire escapes old as you -Tho you’re not old now, that’s left here with me— Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe—and I guess that dies with us—enough to cancel all that comes—What came is gone forever every time— That’s good! That leaves it open for no regret—no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end— Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul—and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change’s fierce hunger—hair and teeth—and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. Ai! ai! we do worse! We are in a fix! And you’re out, Death let you out, Death had the Mercy, you’re done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it—Done with yourself at last—Pure—Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all—before the world— There, rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you’ve gone, it’s good. No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more fear of Louis, and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts, loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands— No more of sister Elanor,.—she gone before you—we kept it secret—you killed her—or she killed herself to bear with you—an arthritic heart—But Death’s killed you both—No matter— Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and weeks—forgetting, aggrieve watching Marie Dressler address humanity, Chaplin dance in youth, or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin’s at the Met, hailing his voice of a weeping Czar—by standing

room with Elanor & Max—watching also the Capitalists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds, with the YPSL’s hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920 all girls grown old, or dead, now, and that long hair in the grave—lucky to have husbands later— You made it—I came too—Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer—or kill—later perhaps—soon he will think—) And it’s the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now—tho not you I didn’t foresee what you felt—what more hideous gape of bad mouth came first—to you—and were you prepared? To go where? In that Dark—that—in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream? Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon—Deathshead with Halo? can you believe it? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have—what you had—that so pitiful—yet Triumph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower—fed to the ground—but mad, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore—freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless. No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the knife—lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman’s icy—even in the Spring—strange ghost thought—some Death—Sharp icicle in his hand—crowned with old roses—a dog for his eyes—cock of a sweatshop—heart of electric irons. All the accumulations of life, that wear us out—clocks, bodies, consciousness, shoes, breasts—begotten sons—your Communism—‘Paranoia’ into hospitals. You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later. You of stroke. Asleep? within a year, the two of you, sisters in death. Is Elanor happy? Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over midnight Accountings, not sure. l His life passes—as he sees—and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Immortality, Naomi? I’ll see him soon. Now I’ve got to cut through—to talk to you—as I didn’t when you had a mouth. Forever. And we’re bound for that, Forever—like Emily Dickinson’s horses—headed to the End. They know the way—These Steeds—run faster than we think—it’s our own life they cross—and take with them. Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, married dreamed, mortal changed—Ass and face done with murder. In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under pine, almed in Earth, balmed in Lone, Jehovah, accept. Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death. Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I’m hymnless, I’m Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not light or darkness, Dayless Eternity— Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some of my Time, now given to Nothing—to praise Thee—But Death This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Wonderer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping—page beyond Psalm—Last change of mine and Naomi—to God’s perfect Darkness—Death, stay thy phantoms! II Over and over—refrain—of the Hospitals—still haven’t written your history—leave it abstract—a few images run thru the mind—like the saxophone chorus of houses and years—remembrance of electrical shocks. By long nites as a child in Paterson apartment, watching over your nervousness—you were fat—your next move— By that afternoon I stayed home from school to take care of you—once and for all—when I vowed forever that once man disagreed with my opinion of the cosmos, I was lost— By my

later burden—vow to illuminate mankind—this is release of particulars—(mad as you)—(sanity a trick of agreement)— But you stared out the window on the Broadway Church corner, and spied a mystical assassin from Newark, So phoned the Doctor—‘OK go way for a rest’—so I put on my coat and walked you downstreet—On the way a grammarschool boy screamed, unaccountably—‘Where you goin Lady to Death’? I shuddered— and you covered your nose with motheaten fur collar, gas mask against poison sneaked into downtown atmosphere, sprayed by Grandma— And was the driver of the cheesebox Public Service bus a member of the gang? You shuddered at his face, I could hardly get you on—to New York, very Times Square, to grab another Greyhound— where we hung around 2 hours fighting invisible bugs and jewish sickness—breeze poisoned by Roosevelt— out to get you—and me tagging along, hoping it would end in a quiet room in a Victorian house by a lake. Ride 3 hours thru tunnels past all American industry, Bayonne preparing for World War II, tanks, gas fields, soda factories, diners, loco-motive roundhouse fortress—into piney woods New Jersey Indians—calm towns—long roads thru sandy tree fields— Bridges by deerless creeks, old wampum loading the streambeddown there a tomahawk or Pocahontas bone—and a million old ladies voting for Roosevelt in brown small houses, roads off the Madness highway— perhaps a hawk in a tree, or a hermit looking for an owl-filled branch— All the time arguing—afraid of strangers in the forward double seat, snoring regardless—what busride they snore on now? ‘Allen, you don’t understand—it’s—ever since those 3 big sticks up my back—they did something to me in Hospital, they poisoned me, they want to see me dead—3 big sticks, 3 big sticks— ‘The Bitch! Old Grandma! Last week I saw her, dressed in pants like an old man, with a sack on her back, climbing up the brick side of the apartment ‘On the fire escape, with poison germs, to throw on me—at night—maybe Louis is helping her—he’s under her power— ‘I’m your mother, take me to Lakewood’ (near where Graf Zeppelin had crashed before, all Hitler in Explosion) ‘where I can hide.’ We got there—Dr. Whatzis rest home—she hid behind a closet—demanded a blood transfusion. We were kicked out—tramping with Valise to unknown shady lawn houses—dusk, pine trees after dark—long dead street filled with crickets and poison ivy— I shut her up by now—big house REST HOME ROOMS—gave the landlady her money for the week—carried up the iron valise—sat on bed waiting to escape— Neat room in attic with friendly bedcover—lace curtains—spinning wheel rug—Stained wallpaper old as Naomi. We were home. I left on the next bus to New York—laid my head back in the last seat, depressed—the worst yet to come?—abandoning her, rode in torpor—I was only 12. Would she hide in her room and come out cheerful for breakfast? Or lock her door and stare thru the window for sidestreet spies? Listen at keyholes for Hitlerian invisible gas? Dream in a chair—or mock me, by—in front of a mirror, alone? 12 riding the bus at nite thru New Jersey, have left Naomi to Parcae in Lakewood’s haunted house—left to my own fate bus—sunk in a seat—all violins broken—my heart sore in my ribs—mind was empty—Would she were safe in her coffin— Or back at Normal School in Newark, studying up on America in a black skirt—winter on the street without lunch—a penny a pickle—home at night to take care of Elanor in the bedroom— First nervous breakdown was 1919—she stayed home from school and lay in a dark room for three weeks—something bad—never said what—every noise hurt—dreams of the creaks of Wall Street— Before the gray Depression—went upstate New York—recovered—Lou took photo of her sitting crossleg on the grass—her long hair wound with flowers—smiling—playing lullabies on mandolin—poison ivy smoke in left-wing summer camps and me in infancy saw trees— or back teaching school, laughing with idiots, the backward classes—her Russian specialty—morons with dreamy lips, great eyes, thin feet & sicky fingers, swaybacked, rachitic— great heads pendulous

over Alice in Wonderland, a blackboard full of C A T. Naomi reading patiently, story out of a Communist fairy book—Tale of the Sudden Sweetness of the Dictator—Forgiveness of Warlocks—Armies Kissing— Deathsheads Around the Green Table—The King & the Workers—Paterson Press printed them up in the ’30s till she went mad, or they folded, both. O Paterson! I got home late that nite. Louis was worried. How could I be so—didn’t I think? I shouldn’t have left her. Mad in Lakewood. Call the Doctor. Phone the home in the pines. Too late. Went to bed exhausted, wanting to leave the world (probably that year newly in love with R         my high school mind hero, jewish boy who came a doctor later—then silent neat kid— I later laying down life for him, moved to Manhattan—followed him to college—Prayed on ferry to help mankind if admitted—vowed, the day I journeyed to Entrance Exam— by being honest revolutionary labor lawyer—would train for that—inspired by Sacco Vanzetti, Norman Thomas, Debs, Altgeld, Sand-burg, Poe—Little Blue Books. I wanted to be President, or Senator. ignorant woe—later dreams of kneeling by R’s shocked knees declaring my love of 1941—What sweetness he’d have shown me, tho, that I’d wished him & despaired—first love—a crush— Later a mortal avalanche, whole mountains of homosexuality, Matterhorns of cock, Grand Canyons of asshole—weight on my melancholy head— meanwhile I walked on Broadway imagining Infinity like a rubber ball without space beyond—what’s outside?—coming home to Graham Avenue still melancholy passing the lone green hedges across the street, dreaming after the movies—) The telephone rang at 2 A.M.—Emergency—she’d gone mad—Naomi hiding under the bed screaming bugs of Mussolini—Help! Louis! Buba! Fascists! Death!—the landlady frightened—old fag attendant screaming back at her— Terror, that woke the neighbors—old ladies on the second floor recovering from menopause—all those rags between thighs, clean sheets, sorry over lost babies—husbands ashen—children sneering at Yale, or putting oil in hair at CCNY—or trembling in Montclair State Teachers College like Eugene— Her big leg crouched to her breast, hand outstretched Keep Away, wool dress on her thighs, fur coat dragged under the bed—she barricaded herself under bedspring with suitcases. Louis in pajamas listening to phone, frightened—do now?—Who could know?—my fault, delivering her to solitude?—sitting in the dark room on the sofa, trembling, to figure out— He took the morning train to Lakewood, Naomi still under bed—thought he brought poison Cops—Naomi screaming—Louis what happened to your heart then? Have you been killed by Naomi’s ecstasy? Dragged her out, around the corner, a cab, forced her in with valise, but the driver left them off at drugstore. Bus stop, two hours’ wait. I lay in bed nervous in the 4-room apartment, the big bed in living room, next to Louis’ desk—shaking—he came home that nite, late, told me what happened. Naomi at the prescription counter defending herself from the enemy—racks of children’s books, douche bags, aspirins, pots, blood—‘Don’t come near me—murderers! Keep away! Promise not to kill me!’ Louis in horror at the soda fountain—with Lakewood girlscouts—Coke addicts—nurses—busmen hung on schedule—Police from country precinct, dumbed—and a priest dreaming of pigs on an ancient cliff? Smelling the air—Louis pointing to emptiness?—Customers vomiting their Cokes—or staring—Louis humiliated—Naomi triumphant—The Announcement of the Plot. Bus arrives, the drivers won’t have them on trip to New York. Phonecalls to Dr. Whatzis, ‘She needs a rest,’ The mental hospital—State Greystone Doctors—‘Bring her here, Mr. Ginsberg.’ Naomi, Naomi—sweating, bulge-eyed, fat, the dress unbuttoned at one side—hair over brow, her stocking hanging evilly on her legs—screaming for a blood transfusion—one righteous hand upraised—a shoe in it—barefoot in the Pharmacy— The enemies approach—what poisons? Tape recorders? FBI? Zhdanov hiding behind the counter? Trotsky mixing rat bacteria in the back of the store? Uncle Sam in Newark, plotting deathly

perfumes in the Negro district? Uncle Ephraim, drunk with murder in the politician’s bar, scheming of Hague? Aunt Rose passing water thru the needles of the Spanish Civil War? till the hired $35 ambulance came from Red Bank——Grabbed her arms—strapped her on the stretcher—moaning, poisoned by imaginaries, vomiting chemicals thru Jersey, begging mercy from Essex County to Morristown— And back to Greystone where she lay three years—that was the last breakthrough, delivered her to Madhouse again— On what wards—I walked there later, oft—old catatonic ladies, gray as cloud or ash or walls—sit crooning over floorspace—Chairs—and the wrinkled hags acreep, accusing—begging my 13-year-old mercy— ‘Take me home’—I went alone sometimes looking for the lost Naomi, taking Shock—and I’d say, ‘No, you’re crazy Mama,—Trust the Drs.’— And Eugene, my brother, her elder son, away studying Law in a furnished room in Newark— came Paterson-ward next day—and he sat on the broken-down couch in the living room—‘We had to send her back to Greystone’— —his face perplexed, so young, then eyes with tears—then crept weeping all over his face—‘What for?’ wail vibrating in his cheekbones, eyes closed up, high voice—Eugene’s face of pain. Him faraway, escaped to an Elevator in the Newark Library, his bottle daily milk on windowsill of $5 week furn room downtown at trolley tracks— He worked 8 hrs. a day for $20/wk—thru Law School years—stayed by himself innocent near negro whorehouses. Unlaid, poor virgin—writing poems about Ideals and politics letters to the editor Pat Eve News—(we both wrote, denouncing Senator Borah and Isolationists—and felt mysterious toward Paterson City Hall— I sneaked inside it once—local Moloch tower with phallus spire & cap o’ ornament, strange gothic Poetry that stood on Market Street—replica Lyons’ Hotel de Ville— wings, balcony & scrollwork portals, gateway to the giant city clock, secret map room full of Hawthorne—dark Debs in the Board of Tax—Rembrandt smoking in the gloom— Silent polished desks in the great committee room—Aldermen? Bd of Finance? Mosca the hairdresser aplot—Crapp the gangster issuing orders from the john—The madmen struggling over Zone, Fire, Cops & Backroom Metaphysics—we’re all dead—outside by the bus stop Eugene stared thru childhood— where the Evangelist preached madly for 3 decades, hard-haired, cracked & true to his mean Bible—chalked Prepare to Meet Thy God on civic pave— or God is Love on the railroad overpass concrete—he raved like I would rave, the lone Evangelist—Death on City Hall—) But Gene, young,—been Montclair Teachers College 4 years—taught half year & quit to go ahead in life—afraid of Discipline Problems—dark sex Italian students, raw girls getting laid, no English, sonnets disregarded—and he did not know much—just that he lost— so broke his life in two and paid for Law—read huge blue books and rode the ancient elevator 13 miles away in Newark & studied up hard for the future just found the Scream of Naomi on his failure doorstep, for the final time, Naomi gone, us lonely—home—him sitting there— Then have some chicken soup, Eugene. The Man of Evangel wails in front of City Hall. And this year Lou has poetic loves of suburb middle age—in secret—music from his 1937 book—Sincere—he longs for beauty— No love since Naomi screamed—since 1923?—now lost in Greystone ward—new shock for her—Electricity, following the 40 Insulin. And Metrazol had made her fat. So that a few years later she came home again—we’d much advanced and planned—I waited for that day—my Mother again to cook & —play the piano—sing at mandolin—Lung Stew, & Stenka Razin, & the communist line on the war with Finland—and Louis in debt—,uspected to he poisoned money—mysterious capitalisms —& walked down the long front hall & looked at the furniture. She never remembered it all. Some amnesia. Examined the doilies—and the dining room set was sold— the Mahogany table—20 years love—gone to the junk man—we still had the piano—and the book of Poe—and the Mandolin, tho needed some string, dusty— She went to the backroom to lie down in

bed and ruminate, or nap, hide—I went in with her, not leave her by herself—lay in bed next to her—shades pulled, dusky, late afternoon—Louis in front room at desk, waiting—perhaps boiling chicken for supper— ‘Don’t be afraid of me because I’m just coming back home from the mental hospital—I’m your mother—’ Poor love, lost—a fear—I lay there—Said, ‘I love you Naomi,’—stiff, next to her arm. I would have cried, was this the comfortless lone union?—Nervous, and she got up soon. Was she ever satisfied? And—by herself sat on the new couch by the front windows, uneasy—cheek leaning on her hand—narrowing eye—at what fate that day— Picking her tooth with her nail, lips formed an O, suspicion—thought’s old worn vagina—absent sideglance of eye—some evil debt written in the wall, unpaid—& the aged breasts of Newark come near— May have heard radio gossip thru the wires in her head, controlled by 3 big sticks left in her back by gangsters in amnesia, thru the hospital—caused pain between her shoulders— Into her head—Roosevelt should know her case, she told me—Afraid to kill her, now, that the government knew their names—traced back to Hitler—wanted to leave Louis’ house forever. One night, sudden attack—her noise in the bathroom—like croaking up her soul—convulsions and red vomit coming out of her mouth—diarrhea water exploding from her behind—on all fours in front of the toilet—urine running between her legs—left retching on the tile floor smeared with her black feces—unfainted— At forty, varicosed, nude, fat, doomed, hiding outside the apartment door near the elevator calling Police, yelling for her girlfriend Rose to help— Once locked herself in with razor or iodine—could hear her cough in tears at sink—Lou broke through glass green-painted door, we pulled her out to the bedroom. Then quiet for months that winter—walks, alone, nearby on Broadway, read Daily Worker—Broke her arm, fell on icy street— Began to scheme escape from cosmic financial murder-plots—later she ran away to the Bronx to her sister Elanor. And there’s another saga of late Naomi in New York. Or thru Elanor or the Workmen’s Circle, where she worked, ad-dressing envelopes, she made out—went shopping for Campbell’s tomato soup—saved money Louis mailed her— Later she found a boyfriend, and he was a doctor—Dr. Isaac worked for National Maritime Union—now Italian bald and pudgy old doll—who was himself an orphan—but they kicked him out—Old cruelties— Sloppier, sat around on bed or chair, in corset dreaming to herself—‘I’m hot—I’m getting fat—I used to have such a beautiful figure before I went to the hospital—You should have seen me in Woodbine—’ This in a furnished room around the NMU hall, 1943. Looking at naked baby pictures in the magazine—baby powder advertisements, strained lamb carrots—‘I will think nothing but beautiful thoughts.’ Revolving her head round and round on her neck at window light in summertime, in hypnotize, in doven-dream recall— ‘I touch his cheek, I touch his cheek, he touches my lips with his hand, I think beautiful thoughts, the baby has a beautiful hand.’— Or a No-shake of her body, disgust—some thought of Buchenwald—some insulin passes thru her head—a grimace nerve shudder at Involuntary (as shudder when I piss)—bad chemical in her cortex—‘No don’t think of that. He’s a rat.’ Naomi: ‘And when we die we become an onion, a cabbage, a carrot, or a squash, a vegetable.’ I come downtown from Columbia and agree. She reads the Bible, thinks beautiful thoughts all day. ‘Yesterday I saw God. What did he look like? Well, in the afternoon I climbed up a ladder—he has a cheap cabin in the country, like Monroe, N.Y. the chicken farms in the wood. He was a lonely old man with a white beard. ‘I cooked supper for him. I made him a nice supper—lentil soup, vegetables, bread & butter—miltz—he sat down at the table and ate, he was sad. ‘I told him, Look at all those fightings and killings down there, What’s the matter? Why don’t you put a stop to it? ‘I try, he said—That’s all he could do, he looked tired. He’s a bachelor so long, and he likes lentil

soup.’ Serving me meanwhile, a plate of cold fish—chopped raw cabbage dript with tapwater—smelly tomatoes—week-old health food—grated beets & carrots with leaky juice, warm—more and more disconsolate food—I can’t eat it for nausea sometimes—the Charity of her hands stinking with Manhattan, madness, desire to please me, cold undercooked fish—pale red near the bones. Her smells—and oft naked in the room, so that I stare ahead, or turn a book ignoring her. One time I thought she was trying to make me come lay her—flirting to herself at sink—lay back on huge bed that filled most of the room, dress up round her hips, big slash of hair, scars of operations, pancreas, belly wounds, abortions, appendix, stitching of incisions pulling down in the fat like hideous thick zippers—ragged long lips between her legs—What, even, smell of asshole? I was cold—later revolted a little, not much—seemed perhaps a good idea to try—know the Monster of the Beginning Womb—Perhaps—that way. Would she care? She needs a lover. Yisborach, v’yistabach, v’yispoar, v’yisroman, v’yisnaseh, v’yishador, v’yishalleh, v’yishallol, sh’meh d’kudsho, b’rich hu. And Louis reestablishing himself in Paterson grimy apartment in negro district—living in dark rooms—but found himself a girl he later married, falling in love again—tho sere & shy—hurt with 20 years Naomi’s mad idealism. Once I came home, after longtime in N.Y., he’s lonely—sitting in the bedroom, he at desk chair turned round to face me—weeps, tears in red eyes under his glasses— That we’d left him—Gene gone strangely into army—she out on her own in N.Y., almost childish in her furnished room. So Louis walked downtown to postoffice to get mail, taught in highschool—stayed at poetry desk, forlorn—ate grief at Bickford’s all these years—are gone. Eugene got out of the Army, came home changed and lone—cut off his nose in jewish operation—for years stopped girls on Broadway for cups of coffee to get laid—Went to NYU, serious there, to finish Law.— And Gene lived with her, ate naked fishcakes, cheap, while she got crazier—He got thin, or felt helpless, Naomi striking 1920 poses at the moon, half-naked in the next bed. bit his nails and studied—was the weird nurse-son—Next year he moved to a room near Columbia—though she wanted to live with her children— ‘Listen to your mother’s plea, I beg you’—Louis still sending her checks—I was in bughouse that year 8 months—my own visions unmentioned in this here Lament— But then went half mad—Hitler in her room, she saw his mustache in the sink—afraid of Dr. Isaac now, suspecting that he was in on the Newark plot—went up to Bronx to live near Elanor’s Rheumatic Heart— And Uncle Max never got up before noon, tho Naomi at 6 A.M. was listening to the radio for spies—or searching the windowsill, for in the empty lot downstairs, an old man creeps with his bag stuffing packages of garbage in his hanging black overcoat. Max’s sister Edie works—17 years bookkeeper at Gimbels—lived downstairs in apartment house, divorced—so Edie took in Naomi on Rochambeau Ave— Woodlawn Cemetery across the street, vast dale of graves where Poe once—Last stop on Bronx subway—lots of communists in that area. Who enrolled for painting classes at night in Bronx Adult High School—walked alone under Van Cortlandt Elevated line to class—paints Naomiisms— Humans sitting on the grass in some Camp No-Worry summers yore—saints with droopy faces and long-ill-fitting pants, from hospital— Brides in front of Lower East Side with short grooms—lost El trains running over the Babylonian apartment rooftops in the Bronx— Sad paintings—but she expressed herself. Her mandolin gone, all strings broke in her head, she tried. Toward Beauty? or some old life Message? But started kicking Elanor, and Elanor had heart trouble—came upstairs and asked her about Spydom for hours,—Elanor frazzled. Max away at office, accounting for cigar stores till at night. ‘I am a great woman—am truly a beautiful soul—and because of that they (Hitler, Grandma, Hearst, the Capitalists, Franco, Daily News, the ’20s, Mussolini, the living

dead) want to shut me up—Buba’s the head of a spider network—’ Kicking the girls, Edie & Elanor—Woke Edie at midnite to tell her she was a spy and Elanor a rat. Edie worked all day and couldn’t take it—She was organizing the union.—And Elanor began dying, upstairs in bed. The relatives call me up, she’s getting worse—I was the only one left—Went on the subway with Eugene to see her, ate stale fish— ‘My sister whispers in the radio—Louis must be in the apartment—his mother tells him what to say—LIARS!—I cooked for my two children—I played the mandolin—’ Last night the nightingale woke me / Last night when all was still / it sang in the golden moonlight / from on the wintry hill. She did. I pushed her against the door and shouted ‘DON’T KICK ELANOR!’—she stared at me—Contempt—die—disbelief her sons are so naive, so dumb—‘Elanor is the worst spy! She’s taking orders!’ ‘—No wires in the room!’—I’m yelling at her—last ditch, Eugene listening on the bed—what can he do to escape that fatal Mama—‘You’ve been away from Louis years already—Grandma’s too old to walk—’ We’re all alive at once then—even me & Gene & Naomi in one mythological Cousinesque room—screaming at each other in the Forever—I in Columbia jacket, she half undressed. I banging against her head which saw Radios, Sticks, Hitlers—the gamut of Hallucinations—for real—her own universe—no road that goes elsewhere—to my own—No America, not even a world— That you go as all men, as Van Gogh, as mad Hannah, all the same—to the last doom—Thunder, Spirits, lightning! I’ve seen your grave! O strange Naomi! My own—cracked grave! Shema Y’Israel—I am Svul Avrum—you—in death? Your last night in the darkness of the Bronx—I phonecalled—thru hospital to secret police that came, when you and I were alone, shrieking at Elanor in my ear—who breathed hard in her own bed, got thin— Nor will forget, the doorknock, at your fright of spies,—Law advancing, on my honor—Eternity entering the room—you running to the bathroom undressed, hiding in protest from the last heroic fate— staring at my eyes, betrayed—the final cops of madness rescuing me—from your foot against the broken heart of Elanor, your voice at Edie weary of Gimbels coming home to broken radio—and Louis needing a poor divorce, he wants to get married soon—Eugene dreaming, hiding at 125 St., suing negroes for money on crud furniture, defending black girls— Protests from the bathroom—Said you were sane—dressing in a cotton robe, your shoes, then new, your purse and newspaper clippingsno—your honesty— as you vainly made your lips more real with lipstick, looking in the mirror to see if the Insanity was Me or a earful of police. or Grandma spying at 78—Your vision—Her climbing over the walls of the cemetery with political kidnapper’s bag—or what you saw on the walls of the Bronx, in pink nightgown at midnight, staring out the window on the empty lot— Ah Rochambeau Ave.—Playground of Phantoms—last apartment in the Bronx for spies—last home for Elanor or Naomi, here these communist sisters lost their revolution— ‘All right—put on your coat Mrs.—let’s go—We have the wagon downstairs—you want to come with her to the station?’ The ride then—held Naomi’s hand, and held her head to my breast, I’m taller—kissed her and said I did it for the best—Elanor sick—and Max with heart condition—Needs— To me—‘Why did you do this?’—‘Yes Mrs., your son will have to leave you in an hour’—The Ambulance came in a few hours—drove off at 4 A.M. to some Bellevue in the night downtown—gone to the hospital forever. I saw her led away—she waved, tears in her eyes. Two years, after a trip to Mexico—bleak in the flat plain near Brentwood, scrub brush and grass around the unused RR train track to the crazyhouse— new brick 20 story central building—lost on the vast lawns of madtown on Long Island—huge cities of the moon. Asylum spreads out giant wings above the path to a minute black hole—the door—entrance thru crotch— I went in—smelt funny—the halls again—up elevator—to a glass door on a Women’s Ward—to Naomi—Two nurses buxom white—They led her out, Naomi

stared—and I gaspt—She’d had a stroke— Too thin, shrunk on her bones—age come to Naomi—now broken into white hair—loose dress on her skeleton—face sunk, old! withered—cheek of crone— One hand stiff—heaviness of forties & menopause reduced by one heart stroke, lame now—wrinkles—a scar on her head, the lobotomy—ruin, the hand dipping downwards to death— O Russian faced, woman on the grass, your long black hair is crowned with flowers, the mandolin is on your knees— Communist beauty, sit here married in the summer among daisies, promised happiness at hand— holy mother, now you smile on your love, your world is born anew, children run naked in the field spotted with dandelions, they eat in the plum tree grove at the end of the meadow and find a cabin where a white-haired negro teaches the mystery of his rainbarrel— blessed daughter come to America, I long to hear your voice again, remembering your mother’s music, in the Song of the Natural Front— O glorious muse that bore me from the womb, gave suck first mystic life & taught me talk and music, from whose pained head I first took Vision— Tortured and beaten in the skull—What mad hallucinations of the damned that drive me out of my own skull to seek Eternity till I find Peace for Thee, O Poetry—and for all humankind call on the Origin Death which is the mother of the universe!—Now wear your nakedness forever, white flowers in your hair, your marriage sealed behind the sky—no revolution might destroy that maidenhood— O beautiful Garbo of my Karma—all photographs from 1920 in Camp Nicht-Gedeiget here unchanged—with all the teachers from Vewark—Nor Elanor be gone, nor Max await his specter—nor Louis retire from this High School— Back! You! Naomi! Skull on you! Gaunt immortality and revolution come—small broken woman—the ashen indoor eyes of hospitals, ward grayness on skin— ‘Are you a spy?’ I sat at the sour table, eyes filling with tears—‘Who are you? Did Louis send you?—The wires—’ in her hair, as she beat on her head—‘I’m not a bad girl—don’t murder me!—I hear the ceiling—I raised two children—’ Two years since I’d been there—I started to cry—She stared—nurse broke up the meeting a moment—I went into the bathroom to hide, against the toilet white walls ‘The Horror’ I weeping—to see her again—‘The Horror’—as if she were dead thru funeral rot in—‘The Horror!’ I came back she yelled more—they led her away—‘You’re not Allen—’ I watched her face—but she passed by me, not looking— Opened the door to the ward,—she went thru without a glance back, quiet suddenly—I stared out—she looked old—the verge of the grave—‘All the Horror!’ Another year, I left N.Y.—on West Coast in Berkeley cottage dreamed of her soul—that, thru life, in what form it stood in that body, ashen or manic, gone beyond joy— near its death—with eyes—was my own love in its form, the Naomi, my mother on earth still—sent her long letter—& wrote hymns to the mad—Work of the merciful Lord of Poetry. that causes the broken grass to be green, or the rock to break in grass—or the Sun to be constant to earth—Sun of all sunflowers and days on bright iron bridges—what shines on old hospitals—as on my yard— Returning from San Francisco one night, Orlovsky in my room—Whalen in his peaceful chair—a telegram from Gene, Naomi dead— Outside I bent my head to the ground under the bushes near the garage—knew she was better— at last—not left to look on Earth alone—2 years of solitude—no one, at age nearing 60—old woman of skulls—once long-tressed Naomi of Bible— or Ruth who wept in America—Rebecca aged in Newark—David remembering his Harp, now lawyer at Yale or Srul Avrum—Israel Abraham—myself—to sing in the wilderness toward God—O Elohim!—so to the end—2 days after her death I got her letter— Strange Prophecies anew! She wrote—‘The key is in the window, the key is in the sunlight at the window—I have the key—Get married Allen don’t take drugs—the key is in the bars, in the sunlight in the window. Love, your mother’ which is Naomi— Hymmnn In the world which He has created according to his will Blessed Praised Magnified Lauded

Exalted the Name of the Holy One Blessed is He! In the house in Newark Blessed is He! In the madhouse Blessed is He! In the house of Death Blessed is He! Blessed be He in homosexuality! Blessed be He in Paranoia! Blessed be He in the city! Blessed be He in the Book! Blessed be He who dwells in the shadow! Blessed be He! Blessed be He! Blessed be you Naomi in tears! Blessed be you Naomi in fears! Blessed Blessed Blessed in sickness! Blessed be you Naomi in Hospitals! Blessed be you Naomi in solitude! Blest be your triumph! Blest be your bars! Blest be your last years’ loneliness! Blest be your failure! Best be your stroke! Blest be the close of your eye! Blest be the gaunt of your cheek! Blest be your withered thighs! Blessed be Thee Naomi in Death! Blessed be Death! Blessed be Death! Blessed be He Who leads all sorrow to Heaven! Blessed be He in the end! Blessed be He who builds Heaven in Darkness! Blessed Blessed Blessed be He! Blessed be He! Blessed be Death on us All! III Only to have not forgotten the beginning in which she drank cheap sodas in the morgues of Newark, only to have seen her weeping on gray tables in long wards of her universe only to have known the weird ideas of Hitler at the door, the wires in her head, the three big sticks rammed down her back, the voices in the ceiling shrieking out her ugly early lays for 30 years, only to have seen the time-jumps, memory lapse, the crash of wars, the roar and silence of a vast electric shock, only to have seen her painting crude pictures of Elevateds running over the rooftops of the Bronx her brothers dead in Riverside or Russia, her lone in Long Island writing a last letter—and her image in the sunlight at the window ‘The key is in the sunlight at the window in the bars the key is in the sunlight,’ only to have come to that dark night on iron bed by stroke when the sun gone down on Long Island and the vast Atlantic roars outside the great call of Being to its own to come back out of the Nightmare—divided creation—with her head lain on a pillow of the hospital to die —in one last glimpse—all Earth one everlasting Light in the familiar black-out—no tears for this vision— But that the key should be left behind—at the window—the key in the sunlight—to the living—that can take that slice of light in hand—and turn the door—and look back see Creation glistening backwards to the same grave, size of universe, size of the tick of the hospital's clock on the archway over the white door— IV O mother what have I left out O mother what have I forgotten O mother farewell with a long black shoe farewell with Communist Party and a broken stocking farewell with six dark hairs on the wen of your breast farewell with your old dress and a long black beard around the vagina farewell with your sagging belly with your fear of Hitler with your mouth of bad short stories with your fingers of rotten mandolins with your arms of fat Paterson porches with your belly of strikes and smokestacks with your chin of Trotsky and the Spanish War with your voice singing for the decaying overbroken workers with your nose of bad lay with your nose of the smell of the pickles of Newark with your eyes with your eyes of Russia with your eyes of no money with your eyes of false China with your eyes of Aunt Elanor with your eyes of starving India with your eyes pissing in the park with your eyes of America taking a fall with your eyes of your failure at the piano with your eyes of your relatives in California with your eyes of Ma Rainey dying in an aumbulance with your eyes of Czechoslovakia attacked by robots with your eyes going to painting class at night in the Bronx with your eyes of the killer Grandma you see on the horizon from the Fire-Escape with your eyes running naked out of the apartment screaming into the hall with your eyes being led away by policemen to an aumbulance with your eyes strapped down on the operating table with your eyes with the pancreas removed with your eyes of appendix operation with your eyes of abortion with your eyes of ovaries removed with your eyes of shock with your

eyes of lobotomy with your eyes of divorce with your eyes of stroke with your eyes alone with your eyes with your eyes with your Death full of Flowers V Caw caw caw crows shriek in the white sun over grave stones in Long Island Lord Lord Lord Naomi underneath this grass my halflife and my own as hers caw caw my eye be buried in the same Ground where I stand in Angel Lord Lord great Eye that stares on All and moves in a black cloud caw caw strange cry of Beings flung up into sky over the waving trees Lord Lord O Grinder of giant Beyonds my voice in a boundless field in Sheol Caw caw the call of Time rent out of foot and wing an instant in the universe Lord Lord an echo in the sky the wind through ragged leaves the roar of memory caw caw all years my birth a dream caw caw New York the bus the broken shoe the vast highschool caw caw all Visions of the Lord Lord Lord Lord caw caw caw Lord Lord Lord caw caw caw Lord Paris, December 1957—New York, 1959

[motherfingtitan]

Counter Clock Incident Redux

When the Senior Crew comes back from an away mission, they mysteriously start to become younger. It’s up to Mariner, Boimler, Rutherford, Tendi, and Westlake to figure out what’s going on before it’s too late.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Crying rang through Medbay, piercing anybody's ears that happened to walk in. Chang had a baby Ransom in one arm and T'ana in the other, trying to hush them to sleep. Minimum medical personnel was allowed to interact with the senior crew, as seeing your captain as a baby isn't the best for leadership. As a result, Westlake, Tendi, and Chang worked non-stop researching cures and running a mini nursery. 

"Come on, Commander, hush-hush! Go to sleep. Please, for the love of God, go to sleep!" She spun and bobbed around, trying to keep herself awake.

Kitty T'ana stretched her paws out, and her retractable claws came into view. "Oh no no, you don't want to scratch the person holding you," Chang panicked, as T’ana had already scratched up half her body. It was her boss's idea of 'playing.’

Across the small room, Tendi played on the floor with Freeman. Large, colorful wooden blocks were scattered around them as they stacked the blocks as high as possible. Every few minutes or so, one of them would tip the tower over, and both would burst out in laughter. Chang walked over to Tendi with the two babies in tow.

 "Tendi, please take over. They haven't stopped crying for 30 minutes, and I have so many scratches from T'ana that I don't even think the dermal regenerator is going to fix it." Tendi always had a way with kids. She knew how to play with them, feed them, put them to sleep, and she loved them. She would have fit in perfectly as a pediatric nurse on a Galaxy-class ship where there were families, but she was on the Cerritos, with no children on board. This was a small blessing to her. 

Tendi got up from her spot and carefully took both babies. "Just watch over the captain for a moment" just then, Mariner walked into Medbay. "Oh, look, Mariner can help you!"

Tendi pushed Mariner with her hips over to where Chang sat. She plopped down in front of her mother, taking one of the many blocks and handing it to the baby.

"So, where are Boimler and Rutherford, and how is the ship?"

Mariner spoke as all three of them stacked blocks. "Rutherford is researching how to get these guys back to their normal age along with running engineering. Lieutenant Nieli has the bridge. God, he’s awkward at giving orders. And Boimler, well, I think he's in his hidey closet doing a captain’s log."

"How are you doing with" Chang motioned over to baby freeman.

Mariner thought for a moment, "I mean, it's weird, but I'm sure Rutherford can get them back to normal."

At this point, Carol had stacked the small blocks five high. When leaning over to grab more, she accidentally knocked the tower down. Sniffles came from her before the full-blown crying started.

"Oh god, not again" Chang grabbed Freeman and rocked her slowly in her arms. "The crying is nonstop with them," she explained to Mariner.

Beckett started to undo the top of her uniform jacket, causing Chang to raise an eyebrow. From her bra, she pulled out a small bottle of blue liquid.

"Romulan whiskey," Beckett answered before Chang could ask a question.

"But why in your-?"

"I always keep it on me in case I have to deal with extra bullsh*t. And it's in my bra because these uniforms don't have any pockets." 

Mariner moved closer to her mother and opened the cap on the small bottle. Chang stepped away from Mariner.

"What are you doing?" Chang asked

"Back in the 20th century, parents used to put whiskey on their kids' pacifiers to help them relax. Maybe Romulan whiskey will help calm my mother down."

"But, we don't even have a pacifier?"

"It's cool, man; I’ll just put a couple of drops in her mouth, not enough to get drunk off of" 

If the nurse wasn't so sleep-deprived, she probably would have argued against it. However, Chang wasn't exactly against having the babies fall asleep, even if that meant giving them alcohol. Beckett walked over to her mother again and positioned the little glass bottle over her mother's open mouth. The blue liquid was just about to drop into Freeman's mouth as Tendi glanced over and realized what was happening.

"Mariner!" She ran over and snatched the glass away from Beckett, "What do you think you're doing giving a child Romulan whiskey!"

"What the? Tendi, it was to calm her down! They used to do it all the time in the 20th century!"

"20th-century medicine?" Tendi continued as she grabbed the baby from Chang, "that's barbaric."

The two followed Tendi over to the replicator, where she requested baby formula at 37°c.

"Babies need milk, not outlawed whiskey" she started to feed Freeman and make baby noises to her.

Mariner rolled her eyes as Chang added, "Says the person who uses ketchup in her milkshakes." 

Rutherford burst in at that point, waving his PADD around and shouting, "I figured it out!"

Mariner walked up to him as Tendi assigned Chang to change Billups' diaper.

Rutherford started to explain, "so I was doing some research on what happened on the Enterprise over 100 years ago, and apparently after they were able to stop the aging, they placed the crew in the transporter pad. The transporter pad saved the original cellular layout of the Enterprise crew, so when they were beamed just a fraction of an inch, they were able to revert to the normal ages."

He was panting from excitement and running all the way to Sick Bay from engineering.

"We still need to figure out how to stop the cellular de-aging, or else the crew will just become babies again," Tendi pointed out.

"That is where I come in!" Westlake walked over in his tired, disheveled state. 

He held up a hypospray with a gray liquid inside. "This will freeze the cells in place, so they don't keep dying. Once Rutherford uses the transporting beam on them, their cells should reset."

"And we get our senior crew back," Tendi bounced from excitement, "though I will miss having babies around."

The four officers jump at the sound of Chang screeching from the other side of the room.

"He freaking peed on me!" She yelled as she tried to dab the urine off her uniform jacket!

"I might be the only one who misses it, though"

…

"Ok, the coordinates are put in, go ahead and place the crew members on the transporter pad," Rutherford instructed. 

Westlake, Tendi, and Chang set the babies on the pad, and Chang muttered something along the lines of good riddance. Westlake administered the hypospray to each of them. Boimler walked in carrying a stack of uniforms and Mariner followed him with a large blanket.

"The Senior Crews uniform are all pressed to regulation with Combadges and Pips nice and polished."

Mariner mumbled about how brad was a kiss ass, and she unfolded the blanket and threw it over the babies. 

"Mariner! You're gonna smother them!" Tendi pointed out

"And they're not going to fit into their Starfleet issued onesies once they revert back to their original ages. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like seeing Ransom's photon torpedo today!"

"And I'm officially sick," Chang deadpanned before her eyes widened in realization. "Also today? Do you mean that-"

"Rutherford hit it!" Mariner cut Chang off.

Rutherford pressed a button and slid his hand across the screen. Transporting sounds filled the room as the babies disappeared in white light. Moments later, they reappeared a few millimeters to the left. In the baby's place, we're five larger lumps rolling around under the blanket. 

"T'ana," Shax spoke, "You should at least take me out to dinner first." 

"Are we doing some sort of-'' Ransom was cut off by Westlake clearing his throat. Slowly, Jack pulled the blanket off from over his head and let it rest in his lap. Craning his head up, he saw three nurses intently looking at him, along with Boimler avoiding eye contact and Mariner gagging. 

"Good afternoon, Commander," Westlake spoke, and he walked over, tricorder in hand. "It's good to have you back."

"Gah," Freeman sat up, clutching her part of the blanket to her chest, "I feel like I got hit by a shuttlecraft." 

The rest of the crew slowly adjusted. 

"Do you remember anything?" Tendi started to scan the captain.

"No? Not really." She pulled the blanket higher on her. "I would like to know where our clothes are, though."

"Oh, would you fu*king relax!" T'ana snatched a tricorder from Chang and started scanning herself. "I just did physicals on all of you last week! There was nothing that I, nor the nurses, hadn't seen before."

Billups was the last to emerge, face red from embarrassment. He pointed to Boimler, Mariner, and Rutherford. Rutherford waved back.

"Not to worry, sirs, I have fresh uniforms for you, all pressed-" he was cut off by Mariner, who started digging through the clothing stack. She pulled out an operations jacket.

"Ohhh, lieutenant commander pips! Headshot!" she balled the jacket up and threw it to Billups, hitting him in the face and knocking him to his back. "That's what you get for almost phasering me!"

Mariner continued to toss uniforms to the crew, much to Brad's protests. "You're creasing them, Mariner! I spent 30 minutes pressing the pants!"

"Kid," Ransom started, "I really don't care if they're creased. I just want some freaking clothes!"

Boimler defeated look faded into the background as Westlake ordered the crew to report to sickbay. All of them shuffled out as the Ensigns stayed behind.

"I'm gonna miss them being babies! They were so cute!" Tendi stood next to Rutherford.

"I'm not" Chang rubbed her eyes, "I need sleep, a hot shower, and to never see a baby again."

"All I know is I saw way too much of the crew today" Mariner reached into her bra, pulling up a glass of Romulan whiskey. "Want some?"

And things were back to normal.

Well, as normal as the Cerritos can get.

...

Wow, my first multichapter fic is finished! Thanks for the support everyone 

[geekkatsblog]

Reviewing Grey's Anatomy Episodes but this time its Season 17

(To those people on my page who don't watch Grey's Anatomy but are being subjected to this I'm so sorry but I really just like to vent about this show.)

Its season 17 now Yay.

They're dealing with the covid 19 pandemic and I'm sure the writers probably did lots of research to make sure that they had the most accurate representation of the situation in the hospitals and otherwise.

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First we're going to start with the love triangle that is Teddy, Tom and Owen.

Owen

Now this is in no way excusing what he's done in the past for the longest while I've loathed Owen Hunt but..... now I feel sorry for him. He saw he had a problem he went to therapy to get himself right, he was actually a good partner for once and communicated in his relationship, he took his time and didn't jump into marriage spontaneously and then Teddy cheated on him over but dial to be heard by everyone in the operating theater with Owen on their wedding day. (I don't want to sound bad but this might also be karma coming to but him in the ass.) I felt so much 2nd hand embarrassment for him and the pain he had in his face the whole time he pretended not to know about her cheating was just oof. I loved though the end where he drove away for the mean time I really do agree with him taking some time and space before he makes a decision. Most of the times he made a lot of sudden decisions that later came back to bite him.

Teddy

Oh Teddy, she used to be one of my favorite characters from a little after she came to the time she left but now they just carried her character so far down hill that it's hard to keep the same energy I had before, now. Everyone at Grey Sloan is on Owen's side and giving her the cold shoulder and she really wants everyone to mind their own business (I honestly agree though, you're in the middle of a pandemic mind your business and do your job now isn't the time to be shunning coworkers because they cheated.) However when she did explain her side I kinda understood it a bit better. It's still an awful thing to do but I know plenty of people who sabotage their own happiness because they aren't used to it. Hell I do it myself sometimes. But then I was also pissed when she just pretended she did nothing wrong at first. First thing first she acted kinda offended when Owen explained why he hadn't called to cancel the wedding to her. Was it kinda sus? The answer is yes but you literally cheated on him that same day, you needed the extra time sis. Not to mention the several time he hinted to her that he knew and gave her the chance to confess yet she lied through her teeth whenever he hinted at it and flat out lied again when he asked if she had anything to confess. I get the whole sabotage route but God was I happy when Owen got in his truck, drove off and left her.

Tom

I was honestly rooting for Tom in the beginning, despite him being a douche I knew deep down he had a heart somewhere, but I actually started to feel less sorry for him last season when he continued to sleep with Teddy despite knowing her situation which he pointed out to her several times and she still ignored it. I know he loves her but let's be honest, she's going to pick Owen as long as he decides to actually take her back and Tom will be left alone and heart broken with his $100000 worth of boxes in booties and a golf club to measure 6 ft distance between him and everyone else. Honestly I kinda saw a panic attack coming, if they're treating Teddy bad then they're probably treating him even more like crap based on the fact that no one besides Teddy, Catherine and maybe Amelia liked him to begin with. This may also be an unpopular opinion but I actually agree with Catherine for making him resign of chief of all chiefs his head hasn't and probably won't be in the game for a while. At least he still gets to be head of neuro. He bought a whole $100000 dollars in booties alone by mistake during an already tough pandemic between that and everything else going on around him I'm not surprised he broke. What did surprise me was that no one even went near him to help even after the attack was finished. Dislike him or not at least ask him how he's doing geeze.

___________________________________________

Jo and Jackson (Never thought I'd have to put the two of them together in a title.)

Truly the biggest shock of the night besides the trailer for next week which I will freak out about later.

Jo

So Jo has decided that in order for her to feel herself again she has to do the devils tango with someone and because they're in a pandemic and she trusts him she chose Jackson. The night of the appointment to do the deed Jo ends up crying in his mouth. The way she treated him afterwards at first was a little uncalled for in my opinion, I mean she was the one who asked for the favor. But later they talked and it was all cool again. Jo didn't really have that big of a plot this episode so not too much to talk about.

Jackson

Agreed way to quickly to doing the devils tango with Jo if you ask me. Seems a little sus. I really hope they aren't rushing him and Jo into anything give the girl some room to breath and also give Jackson a proper plot he seems to be a plot filler for everyone right now like they have no real purpose for him on the show at the moment. I'm beginning to really think that he was the one who was supposed to die last season. I really do love his and Richard's relationship. Jackson never really had a good father and Webber seems to be filling that spot quite nicely. Him pushing Webber to fight to get better and convince him that his career can be saved was heartwarming. And can we take a moment to talk about Harriet finally appearing from the world of Narnia to bless us with her presence? And boy was she a blessing. That baby that plays Harriet was awesome from her repeating Vic saying she can't be a step mom all to her facial expressions. I hope to see baby Harriet again very soon. But speaking of Vic, did she not know that Jackson was a father? How the hell did she expect to never run into her at some point? Then there's the whole question of what did she even expect of the relationship with Jackson if she never intended to even try to accept being around his daughter? also if she really want to be Robbie Rotten from Lazy town and avoid being around kids, maybe she should call or text first instead of showing up in just a fluffy jacket and nothing else.

___________________________________________

Deluca

Glad to see he finally got the help he needed and is back put tho work. I felt so upset last season when everyone just treated him like crap without trying to help him, but they made up for it a little by trying to help him with the intervention. He was also right about the sex trafficking case and I was so glad to see that he was able to be there as her doctor. Plus he's now also finally in dark blue scrubs it has felt like forever before he got those but I digress. He is now on his way once again to be a kick ass surgeon with the awesome skills hes already showcasing. I just hope he continues to look after himself. Deluca shine like the star you are babe.

___________________________________________

Maggie

Has finally found a man who understands her, he is so nice and kind and caring the whole episode I was mentally yelling go get it hun to the screen. She deserves someone who can take her seriously and understand her awkwardness as well as her tendencies finally she has stepped out of the role of cheerleader and support character and is branching out to something else and I'm here for it. And her yelling at Catherine, to share her piece of mind. I was so proud. Go get it sis.

___________________________________________

Richard

Richard Webber is back in the building, finally the king has returned to himself and already solving problems in day one. At the beginning when he publicly called Catherine a pain in the ass I was so stoked I finally thought that he was done being pushed around by her but then he took her back in the end it also kinda felt like she bought him in order to get him back with the hiring him as the new chief of chiefs but I wish them the best of luck, Webber deserves to be happy. I was also happy to see him and Bailey interacting like friends again. For a while it was awkward between them but now it's like the balance has been restored. Side note, him laughing at Teddy and Owen made me laugh so loudly especially when he asked Teddy if her name was still Altman despite the fact he clearly knew about the phonecall drama, not gonna lie I'd do the same.

___________________________________________

Catherine

Not much there, just her being angry at the pandemic and loss of money, lack of power to save lives as well as trying to win Webber back which she successfully did after firing Koracick and giving Richard his job and finally giving him a heartfelt apology without being petty.

___________________________________________

Bailey

It might just be me but so far despite the fact that it's only been 2 episodes. Bailey seems somewhat better this season. Her guilt over Deluca was definitely warranted but at least she tried to make up for it (and just like Harriet her OCD has decided to rejoin us for a visit from Narnia.) For the past few seasons she's been a slight pain but now she seems more like herself.

Her and Ben are adorable as usual, coming every 12 hours to clap for the doctors just to see her then the cute hand signals they made for each other, between Ben, Link and recently added to the group of awesome partners Winston, I'm beginning to wonder where I can find me one of these super thoughtful understanding handsome men. The two guys that knocked her over as well spraining her ankle really should have to pay or something or at least apologize, they literally just knocked a doctor off her feet and made her wheel chair bound, the chief ro be exact. Her and Webber are on talking terms and well again but she really needs to know how to express concern better. She once told Ben that when she's scared she yells but a lot of things would have gone a lot more smoothly if she'd just reminded him he was a high risk for covid and state her concern for him to begin with instead of barking out orders.

I'm also wondering if shes going to be able to handle the whole Covid situation so well for the whole time, with all the chaos and disorganization with the whole ordeal not to mention the whole fit she had with the germs in the episode. I think it'll be a good storyline now that Grey's seems to be bringing mental awareness back up.

___________________________________________

Link and Amelia

They have now officially reached my list along with Ben and Bailey and a few others that are no longer on the show that have reached the stage of killing the couple goals on this show.

Despite the fact that they're not only raising their own baby but also Bailey, Ellis and Zola yet their relationship is still solid. I'm so proud of my baby Amelia she has come a long way from the woman who didn't even want kids to begin with.

I loved the fact that he wasn't upset over her forgetting his birthday and acted like nothing was wrong, just so she wouldn't feel bad about forgetting. I would have been livid set a reminder on your phone babes. Either way she definitely made up for it later with the whole redoing his birthday thing. Also welcome to the world Scout. Looking forward to seeing them more often.

___________________________________________

Levi

How did it all turn so bad, Nico has turned into such a jerk at this point I'm not even sure I'd be to upset if he left if it wasn't for the fact that I ship the person he was before and Levi so much I'm still hoping that they'll go back to how they were before Nico became a lying hypocrite. At the end I was practically begging Levi to push him away, Nico doesn't deserve it not after the way he treated him and he hasn't even shown a hint of remorse to this day.

___________________________________________

Meredith

The biggest shock of the whole episode. I honestly knew something was going to happen to her from the time she fell asleep and started the dream on the beach. Dreaming of beaches have never been a good sign on Grey's I just thought she was going to collapse from stress because she really had been pushing herself all episode. The thing with Meredith is that she cares so much for her patients and does anything she can to save them, but based on the preview of the next episode and the tests they showed it doesn't seem to be test. And let's just talk about that huge bombshell they dropped by bringing back Derek I never thought I'd see Patrick Dempsey on the show again. By the end of the episode I was already literally shaking in anticipation for the next episode. I know they can't kill Meredith, without her there literally is no Grey's Anatomy. That being said I really hope they don't give her cancer, (I know Patrick is involved with helping a charity for cancer.) And I also really hope she isn't getting alzheimers I just hope it's nothing serious in general. She's been through enough man. I just want this to be a really touching moment where I get to see Merder have some touching moments and it doesn't end up to be Izzie and Denny all over again. I don't think anyone is ready to handle that. I read in a spoiler that there's supposed to be some more visitors arriving on the beach and I'm stoked for it so I really hope it's a real spoiler I'm tired of rewatching the newer seasons to experience some of the old joy.

___________________________________________

Imma need them to give that intern Perez an official recurring contract for the show because he is currently one of the best things to come on that show in years. He's a breath of fresh air.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x10 Bullet Point Rambles

Oh boy. We’re in some kind of monster fight club. The first rule of fight club? BYOF (Bring your own fangs)

Boris: Okay, but that wraith’s spike should break off super easily

Things proceed to go very wrong for our boys. Burned popcorn, parking tickets, failed credit cards. Charlie’s mega-hacked card explains SO MUCH

HAS SAM ALWAYS LIFTED HOT FOOD WITHOUT POTHOLDERS? Sam plz

I’m glad to see Sam is sneezing into his elbow. That’s the good bean we love. Poor germaphobe Dean and his sickie brother!

We are INSULTED at the implication that Dean’s mechanical skills haven’t kept Baby in tip-top shape

Garth and his babies is VERY GOOD CONTENT

Please send me 80 gifs of Dean and Garth hugging thx

OMG the babies are named Sam and…………….Castiel. Bless

Garth is living the dream! PROTECT

Poor Dean Bean has a bum tooth. OH MY GOD Garth is a monster dentist and operates out of his basement!!!!

Garth got into hunting when he killed the tooth fairy while in dental school. This is my favorite precious series fact

“Mommy, the giant’s crying”

Garth spots SEVENTEEN cavities in Dean’s mouth, lol

Dean on nitrous hallucinates a vaudeville routine. He DANCES with a lamp in the bunker! OMG friends

Garth wants to know what happened to the golden boys. Who did you guys piss off?” “God”

Garth points out that being a special guest star is the way to go - no tragic backstory and a chance at a normal life. 

Fight club werewolf wakes up! He “fell down the stairs.” Sam tries to get the truth but his puppy dog stare failed! Sam’s PUPPY DOG STARE failed

Bess digs her nails into her friend’s wound to get him to talk - DAMN she plays rough (She IS into 50 shades, I guess)

Garth is worried for the Winchesters, but they’re resolute: they’re gonna stop this fight club

Dean’s goofing off with his grenade launcher. Dean. Bean.

Ahahaha Dean’s SEVEN grilled cheese sandwiches runs through him at the worst time and he races for the bathroom

The less said about the puking scene, the better

Dean and Sam get caught. WHERPS

The fight club manager wants them to fight. Dean tries to use their legend to scare them off but...no dice

OMG this monster mayhem teaser commercial I CAN’T EVEN

“Just how I wanted to die…with a freaking audience.” LOL, sorry man. (Boris and Natasha sidle off screen.)

“So could we ever actually pick a lock?” These precious boys

Dean gives Sam a rousing pep talk! We are CONCERNED

“Oh, and boys? Shirts off!” the manager calls. We perk up! ALAS the Winchesters have escaped before they can remove their shirts

Ooo we do a little time reversal. Garth came to save them!

OMG Garth dropped charges all over the place and then detonated it as soon as he got the Winchesters out. What a precious pyro bean!

“C4, a hunter’s best friend”

Garth goes to fight the big monster dude. NOOOO PROTECT

Dean and Sam continue to have…problems fighting this dude. This fight is very Looney Toons and we love it

Garth kills the big monster! “He got Garthed”

Later, holding babies... “This Cas keeps looking at me weird.” “Just like real Cas.” We love that Sam acknowledges the STARING THING

Sam and Dean bid farewell to Garth. They call him a hero and everything is S O F T

Garth gives them a tip - a place to go when your luck’s run bad - near Alaska. ROAD TRIP!

At the close of this episode, Garth dances with Bess. I am so glad he’s living the good life <3

Dean and Sam can’t handle the normal, so they’re off to Alaska! And the car breaks down again. “Son of a bitch!”

Bless. This. Show.

[ruddcatha]

Guardian Chapter 7

Thank you again to @heavenin--hell for your inspiration, I hope this story does your work justice.

posted on Ao3: Here

Posted on FFN: Here

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The last words of Miroku’s translation echoed in the room, all eyes glued to the tall silver haired man in the middle of the room.  Inuyasha turned back to face the group, noticing that their eyes held various levels of consideration to abject disbelief.  

“So, wait a minute…”

“You realize how insane that sounds.”

“Interesting, I had wondered about the legends”

“Shit now I have to remember that with the counsel”

Inuyasha’s ears tucked down atop his head as the other four members of the room all started talking over each other, their voices echoing and assaulting his ears. After the first few words he could not make out any distinct sentences as the noise level rose.  A low growl rumbled through the room, underscoring the din that sounded like a cacophony to his sensitive hearing.  Kagome picked up on the sound first, her voice trailing off as she reached out and laid a hand on Sango’s shoulder, motioning to her to lower her voice. Miroku caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and stopped.

“… I mean, I suppose the Yokai will know but this is almost more than any of the human…” Totosai continued until he noticed the sudden silence around him.  His face turned red as he cut off his statement mid-sentence, turning his full attention back to Inuyasha.  Inuyasha’s growl faded in the blessed blessed silence, and he closed his eyes in relief.

“Ok… So… what does this all mean Professor?” Kagome asked softly, purposefully keeping her voice low.

Totosai raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.  “It means, well it means we may not have a lot of time to prepare for something we were never really prepared for.”

“Well that’s helpful.” Sango tossed out sarcastically.  Inuyasha focused his attention on her, puzzled by the contradiction. Her tone seemed almost flippant, yet the way her eyes were moving suggested that she was rapidly analyzing the information, and she wasn’t very happy with the outcome of her thinking. Sango looked up to Inuyasha watching her and narrowed her eyes in response.  He was too damn observant.

Miroku cleared his throat “At this time, Totosai, the wisest course of action may be to have you contact the council to set up a meeting, in person, while I take Lord Inuyasha and Kagome back to the shrine to see if we can awaken the others.”

Totosai nodded and turned to Kagome.  “I will do what I can to explain it all later, but as I said before, the legends I taught you are real.  You were able to wake Lord Inuyasha, you will be able to awaken the others, I have faith in you.”

“But I have no idea HOW I somehow woke him up, if I was the one to wake him at all.” Kagome sputtered.  That was the biggest question to her, how she supposedly woke up the silver eared god standing in the room.  She was nothing special, just a graduate student with a fascination with Yokai lore, how would she wake up these alleged ‘guardians?’ Waking stone statues, glowing eyes, yokai lords and a fight to save humanity, these were never things that ever entered her realm of consideration for anything other than a book plot.

Inuyasha shifted his eyes to catch her gaze, his golden eyes capturing her chocolate eyes. His eyes softened slightly, then she saw them harden again, and Kagome wished she knew what was causing that look.

Inuyasha turned his head towards Miroku, asking “Are we able to try tonight?  We will need my father and brother if it is possible to release them from their seals.”

“That will depend entirely on Kagome.”  Miroku moved to Kagome’s side, relaying Inuyasha’s question to her and Sango. Kagome started to shake her head, it had been a long day, first the… whatever that was… in the shower, then a full day at the shrine, returning to her apartment after doing research to find Inuyasha… there was really only so much a woman could take in one day, but a soft whine stilled her movements.  Inuyasha had caught the movement of her head and had not been able to hold back the sound.  Embarrassed, he quickly turned and strode to the other side of the room, one ear trained back for the few snippets of conversation he could understand.  

Kagome’s eyes closed with a sigh. “What exactly would I need to do, if I can do anything at all?”

Miroku looked at her sheepishly before admitting “well, we have a general idea of what needs to be done, it’s just the… how to do it part that’s a little less clear.”

Sango placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder, glaring at Miroku.  “You had better figure it out fast buddy. We’ve both had a really long day and don’t need to be traipsing through the woods at midnight.”

“Well, my dear Sango, it isn’t midnight it is actually only 10 o’clock” a narrowing of Sango’s eyes had him stammering “but… yeah I guess it would be midnight by the time we were coming back.”

“We will be taking the day off from excavating the shrine tomorrow.” Totosai interjected. “I will be focusing on relaying information to the council and setting up the meetings, meaning you do not have to be up as early Kagome.”

Kagome looked to her professor before turning her attention to watch Inuyasha pace on the other side of the room.

“Let’s go then.” She saw Inuyasha’s ears perk a moment before his head turned towards them.

Sango moved her hand from Kagome’s shoulder to her elbow.  “All four of us will go.” She insisted, her eyes narrow as she watched Miroku.  She leaned down and whispered to Kagome “I refuse to leave you alone with the Hentai and Cosplay Boy.”  Kagome crossed her other arm over to touch Sango’s hand in gratitude.  She didn’t expect either to try anything (and Inuyasha looked like he could destroy anyone who tried to hurt them) but she appreciated the support.

_____________________

Ten minutes later Kagome and Sango stood outside, watching Miroku try and convince Inuyasha to get back into the horseless carriage while Inuyasha stalked around it in a circle, growling at it.

“Hey Sango” Kagome said softly “how are you not freaked out about this?”

“Oh, trust me Kagome, I am freaked the fuck out.” Sango said with a slight laugh. “The funny thing is though I was raised on these stories, my father would tell my brother and I a version of this, granted with a lot less detail, as we trained in martial arts with him.  How the fuck was I supposed to know they weren’t just stories.”  She sighed. “Funny huh, you don’t pay attention when you had the chance, and when you really need to know, the person who can help you isn’t there anymore.”

Miroku was finally able to convince Inuyasha into the front seat of the jeep, leaving Kagome and Sango in the back, with Sango acting as the reluctant navigator to the shrine. Inuyasha closed his eyes as the wind brushed past his face, listening to the soft sounds of the conversation behind him. The world around him seemed strange, foreign, but the soft breeze was familiar, almost soothing to his senses.  It seemed like only a moment before they stopped, and the sounds of the forest whispered in Inuyasha’s ears, welcoming him home.  Miroku and the girls exited the jeep, Inuyasha carefully watching them to see how they were able to be freed from the contraption with little success.  Kagome heard his light growls of frustration and moved to open the door. Inuyasha’s ears lowered slightly as he nodded his thanks to her as he unfolded and stood up.

“Here, Inuyasha, watch me.”  Kagome smiled at him as she showed him how to operate the door to exit and enter the car. He flashed her a look of pure gratitude, and she knew that if there had been more light, he would have seen her cheeks turning pink.  She heard a soft chuckle and knew that even with the low light he had seen her blush. He was easily one of the most attractive men she had ever met, and she felt flustered every time he got close.  

Miroku grabbed three camping lanterns out of the back of the jeep and handed one to both Sango and Kagome to illuminate their way into the shrine.  The girls had spent the majority of the last week in the shrine, yet at night it seemed foreign, almost haunted as the lights from the lanterns danced across the cold marble.  As they entered the main room, Kagome swore she saw a soft golden light pulsing through the walls.  She saw Inuyasha’s head turn slightly to the left wall, and she let out a breath in relief that she wasn’t seeing things.

As they reached the center of the room, Miroku turned in a circle, letting out a whistle as he saw the statues for the first time.  “This is… somehow more than I ever anticipated it would be.”  

Inuyasha moved quickly to the edge of the room and tapped a light pattern on the wall.  The humans heard the distinct sound of moving stone, and Inuyasha walked back towards them, the shimmering dagger in his hand.  Miroku held out his hand, silently asking to inspect the relic.  After a long pause, Inuyasha reluctantly relinquished it.

Kagome gasped, as Miroku took possession of the dagger she saw a subtle glow of gold around his hand, but it did not spread through the blade.  

“Just as Totosai thought.” Miroku looked closely at the blade and the shift of the colors.  “Its energy has been depleted.  We had thought that I would have been able to restore its energy.”  He turned towards Kagome, shifting his hold to offer her the handle of the dagger. Kagome hesitated; she was afraid to touch it.  She was afraid that nothing would happen which would disappoint the group and if the story Inuyasha had told them was to be believed, doom the world.  She was also equally afraid that something would happen, and that she would be able to help awaken the others.  She just wasn’t sure which possibility scared her more.  

Before Kagome could force herself to move, Sango reached out and snatched the dagger away from Miroku.  The golden glow faded, leaving only a shimmering silver toned dagger with a marble handle.  Sango’s face dropped; she had hoped she would be able to spare her friend from having to handle the dagger. She had heard of weapons like these before, her father had described weapons charged with energy to enhance their effectiveness.  Like all the other stories, she had thought they were just myths, but here was the proof that they were all true, both standing in front of her and in her hand.    Her eyes met Kagome’s as she handed her best friend the dagger and watched.

Nothing happened.

Kagome felt herself sag inwards as she stared at the silvery dagger in her hand, searching for any hint of gold.  She felt like an idiot, she had gotten caught up in the story being woven by Inuyasha, Miroku and Totosai and their belief that she would be able to help.  She should have known better.  She was just an archeology student in her mid-20’s, not a priestess or shrine maiden.

“Kagome” Miroku said softly as he moved closer to her yet stopped short of moving to her side. “I want you to focus on the dagger, see if you can feel the flow of air around you, and try to feel for a pulse around the dagger.”

Kagome followed his instructions, allowing her eyes to close, focusing on what she felt around her. A soft breeze came through the shrine from the staircase entrance, the ends of her long ebony hair dancing around her. She felt the air caress her cheeks, and then felt it gently flowing around her arm towards the dagger.  As the breeze connected with the dagger, she felt it.

A faint pulse within the dagger.

Eyes still closed, she tilted her head, focusing on that pulse as she felt it grow in strength. The pulse soon shifted to match the beating of her heart, and she felt the beats reverberate through her entire body.  Sango’s soft gasp drew her out of her trance, her eyes drifting open before going wide.

The dagger was glowing brightly in her hand, and the air immediately around her had taken on a soft golden sheen, as if she were encased in a protective orb of light. Inuyasha strode towards her, his hand coming out to clasp the handle of the knife over hers.  The golden color of the dagger deepened until the blade matched the burning amber of his eyes.  The soft glow around Kagome contracted until the light encircled where their hands met over the blade.

“Holy Shit.” Kagome whispered as she relinquished the blade to Inuyasha.  His eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room, the golden color burning bright through the shadows.  Inuyasha swiftly turned, dagger in hand, and strode to the sealed figure of his father.  He quickly drew the edge of the blade across his left palm, raising his hand to rest over the heart of the statue.

“Blood to awaken blood, the son calls the father.” Inuyasha’s voice echoed through the room, overlapping each other to add to the power of his words.

Without pause, Inuyasha moved to the statue of his brother, placing his hand again over the heart of the statue, his voice continuing to echo through the chamber “Blood to awaken blood, brother calls the brother.”

Inuyasha strode back to the dead center of the room, the other inhabitants scrambled out of his way, mesmerized by the display.  Inuyasha’s golden eyes flashed as he raised the dagger straight out in front of him as it shimmered, the light dancing around the blade like flames.

“AWAKEN.”

Inuyasha’s voice seemed to come from multiple directions at his last command, as if a thousand voices were speaking as one.  Miroku, Sango and Kagome stared in awe as they felt the air begin to shift around Inuyasha.  The two statues with Inuyasha’s hand print began to shimmer, a golden flush spreading down their bodies from the bloody marks on the chest.  The marks on the two statues faces darkened into a deep purple and as one both statues took their first breath in over 500 years.

[royallyprincesslilly]

I see some people are sharing quarantine stories I gotta tell you mines smh so I working this job I deal with logistics and shipping and supply chain a lot of the stuff they received from China so I was in contact with factories in China a lot around Jan I was notified that they couldn’t ship anything because everything was shutdown and it was a total lockdown so I was like wow this is serious I let the VP of the company know that we needed to start preparing now for a possible lockdown

Pt 2:  He literally laughed at me, so time progress it’s feb Italy is being overwhelmed with covid I’m telling him we need to prepare he laughs at me again then March comes and nyc is on fire with cases and I’m like can we at least make people wear mask and make people not eat lunch at the same table on top of each other it’s a small company so these changes are hard, he laughed at me again so I’m talking to my doctor I have asthma I freaking out on the inside because

Pt 3:  I just saw that an nyc nurse died from covid and they had asthma so at this point it’s the end of March and these people clearly don’t care so I ask can I work after hours or at home and they say no so I’m like I just don’t feel safe and they tell me I can take a 30 day leave of absence so I’m like ok I didn’t want to stop working but need to wrap my head around what’s going and develop a game plan to stay safe. So 2 weeks into my leave of absence I get a recording from someone at work

Pt 4:  Management is having a meeting accusing me of calling the police on them and they just lying on me saying I did this and that I was spreading fear and negativity when they only thing I had ever said to my team was to stay 6ft away from me because people would always come and ask me questions and get in my personal space and I’m like wooooow so they really had a problem with me saying we should do something to keep everyone safe. So I’m pissed because I had an idea of who called the police

Pt 5:  So I call a lawyer tell them what’s going on they advise me to just continue my leave of absence then apply for unemployment and if I go back to work after the 30 days they will more than likely try to push me out, so I’m like I’m not going back because of I do I’m catching a charge like I’m fighting someone because I hate liars and bullies and people who gossip to the point of harming someone’s livelihood long story short I don’t go back after my 30 days I end up get it extended

Pt 6:  Because the governor extended the lockdown and then they fired me and I just continued to apply for unemployment and then 23 weeks of applying to unemployment I finally get it and I’m like man I want to call them and say take that bitches they don’t understand how close they came to me setting that place on fire because they didn’t know I knew what I knew so I still have access codes passwords and the warehouse/office was in the hood I could have giving some random homeless person access

Pt 7:  And I started a business selling my artwork and I’ve made a great amount of money surprisingly because I just started like I can replace my income from that raggedy job in a few months I’m thankful it happened because it pushed me to do something I’ve wanted to do for years I’m discovering new skill sets like it’s been such a blessing to be fired for that job because before all of this I was planning on leaving because it was just a toxic environment of gossip and stabbing people in the back

Pt 8:  And I just didn’t want to be part of that the final straw was when the owner who is psycho said I was replaceable because something happened in my department that wasn’t even my fault and she didn’t even understand what happened she just went off and I was ok I’m done and I started being super frugal because I was like you don’t have another time to disrespect me but I’ve landed so well on my feet definitely not as angry as I was these are truly sad individuals

Pt 9:  And to this day they are still not wearing masks or social distancing at work and posting videos of them doing so eventually someone if they haven’t already will pop up positive for covid and I hope it scares the crap of of them because they are so greedy they can’t even think to protect employees during a freaking pandemic. Ok my ted talk is over lol

~~~~~~~~~~

Wooooow. First of all fuck that VP. His ass really was not caring one bit about your health and safety or any of his employees and their families. WTH is that!? These companies really do show what is important to them while showing us who doesn’t matter. 

Damn, this is all so fucked up. I’m so sorry you went through that and that people like that operate and run businesses and are in charge of others. It’s a damn shame.

However, Hell to the yesssss for turning a negative into a positive and making lemonade with those lemons that asshole gave you. We call that winning and a little real-life exhibit of “no weapon formed against me shall prosper”. We love to see it. God truly does open a window when he closes a door. 

Don’t worry, karma is my most favorite thing in the world and it comes for each and every one of us. 

I’m so happy things worked out well in the end. Thank you for sharing this with us. 😊

[seoulsister98]

Dissonance (Ch.1) | jjk (m)

⭄ Pairing: Jungkook x OC 

⭄ Genre: Superhero!au / Enemies-to-lovers 

⭄ Warnings: explicit language, minor character death, mentions of blood, mentions of violence 

⭄ Word Count: 2,955

⭄ Disclaimer: Hi, everyone! This is my first ever attempt at writing a BTS fanfic so please be nice. I’ll probably continue the series even if this doesn’t get many likes. I wrote this based off a dream I had, but it is also inspired by X-Men and the show The Boys. Enjoy! :) 

Mutants have been living among humans since the dawn of time. Across all cultures, religions and legends, mutants were seen as gods and miracle-workers. Overall mutants were viewed as benign, altruistic beings, gifted with special abilities. However, in this modern social and political climate, the world now perceives mutants in conflicting ways. Some people feel entitled to their gifts, given to mutants through the alterations in their DNA. They expect mutants to use their powers for good and to protect human-kind from the dangers of the world. However, others consider mutants freaks of nature and even menaces to society. Political leaders spew mutant versus human rhetoric, only fueling the hatred that humans feel towards mutant-kind. This ideology is derived from fear of the unknown. Although most mutants are capable of killing humans, most of them wish to pursue normal lives. Like getting an education, finding a career, blending into the crowd. Most of them. Until recently… 

Mutants often face discrimination and even violence from humans because of their fear-derived convictions. This has led to the formation of radical mutant groups, rallying up their bloody masses and promoting the belief that mutants are far superior to humans and should be treated as such. The government has deemed these groups as terrorists and a threat to the general public. Because of the immeasurable powers some  mutants possess, human strength nor human weaponry stand a chance to eliminate this threat. With this in mind, the government has initiated a military-trained task force called the Mutant Special-Ops (MSO). They are given mutant-related assignments that would otherwise go unchecked. Government collaboration with mutants is very controversial in the media. Some believe mutants have a duty to fight the bad guys while some think all mutants are inherently evil, and will turn against mankind. 

---

☽ Bangtan City. District 7 Railway. 1:42a.m.☾

Nara. ID number 5407. Telekinesis. These were the only three things listed on her MSO portfolio along with the red letter ‘M’ in the corner, signifying her mutant status. She never understood the need for this distinction, as if the word ‘telekinesis’ didn’t give  away what she was. She also couldn’t wrap her mind around what had become of her life. It felt like yesterday that she was just 17 years old, disowned by her family, homeless, with no prospects when a government official had approached her. A sleek, black car pulled up beside her as she walked along the sidewalk. The back, tinted window was rolled down. A man wearing a suit peered at her over his sunglasses. “Get in,” he had said. Wanting no trouble with the law, Nara cautiously entered the vehicle. She pressed herself against the leather seat across from him, attempting to put as much space between her and the man, and stared at him warily. “Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble,” he said with a slight smile. Knowing how mutants were systematically killed by law enforcement, Nara still felt doubtful about the man’s intentions. “What is it that you want from me then?” she asked. The man’s smile grew wider, “I have a proposition for you.”

That day had changed Nara’s life for the better. Along with the rigorous 4-year military training and the scientific experiments she had undergone, she had also been given a home, a family, and a purpose in life. Now she sat beside two of her fellow teammates, Jimin and Taehyung, several feet away from the city’s train tracks. It was very dark out sans the lights illuminating the track. Nara looked up at the starless sky; the city lights swallowing up their light. A cool breeze lifted Nara’s midnight hair off her shoulders and she relished in the feeling. Although she had been assigned missions countless times, she still felt on edge. 

Taehyung sighed and glanced at his cellphone again for the nth time that evening. “My patience is wearing thin. This train was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago,” he said in annoyance and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared off towards the tracks in the direction the train was supposedly arriving from. Jimin placed a hat over his head in order to cover his silver blue hair, a phenotypic mutation that came along with his powers. Although it wasn’t too strange to see a younger man with unnaturally colored hair in the city, the team was required to look as ordinary as possible. “Complaining about it isn’t going to make the train come any faster, Tae. Besides, where do any of us have to be right now?” Jimin asked. Taehyung shrugged and smirked, “I was hoping we could grab drinks after our mission. Maybe enjoy a night for once.” They were about to kill a man, a fellow mutant, and Taehyung was thinking about grabbing drinks as if they worked in some stuffy office all day. With each completed task, these things became easier and easier to do. The only solace they shared was that all of this was for the good of humanity and the rest of the mutants who didn’t want a bad rep because of a few sour apples. 

Nara placed her brown color contacts over her violet eyes. She glanced over at Taehyung who was sporting his signature pedestrian garb, all black clothes topped off with a leather jacket. Mutants often exhibit physical abnormalities like Jimin with his natural blue hair and Nara’s violet eyes. Taehyung, however, was blessed with black hair and brown eyes, making it easy for him to pass as human. He never needed a disguise while on missions or in life for that matter. “Let’s go over the mission one more time,” said Jimin, pulling up the file on his phone. “Target is on board a District 7 high-speed train heading east-bound towards Bangtan City to meet with the mutant terrorist group: Supremus. Target is mutant, but powers are unknown so execute the mission with caution. Target is in possession of top-secret information disclosed in a briefcase. Assassinate the target and retrieve the briefcase without any human casualties. Dispose of the body.” Jimin slips his phone back into his pocket. “Easy enough,” Taehyung said nonchalantly. 

The rumble of the approaching train pulled them out of their thoughts, “It’s here.” Taehyung groaned as he stood, “About time.” Jimin and Nara stood as well and they stealthily made their way towards the train. As they approached, the wind from the speed of the train whipped their hair and clothes, making Nara wince. “Which car is he in?” Jimin asked nonchalantly as he began to stretch his limbs. “According to Namjoon, he should be in car sixteen,” Nara replied. Taehyung groaned again, “When is Yoongi gonna stop this train?” Yoongi, the MSO’s hacker and shapeshifter, was tasked to hack the high-speed train’s operating system in order to stop the train instead of letting it take its intended route. A few seconds later the train came to a gradual halt. “We shouldn’t enter car sixteen immediately. We should enter from the back, it’ll give us enough time for a distraction,” Nara said. Jimin nodded in agreement. Taehyung sighed, “We’re just wasting more time by doing this! Why can’t we just kill this guy and get it over with?” Jimin nudged him and gave him a look which seemed to silence him. 

Nara approached one of the back cars, most likely empty due to the time of night. She raised her hand towards the train door. Using her power of telekinesis, she forced the door open and stepped inside. Jimin and Taehyung followed closely behind. “How’d you three get on here?” The three whipped their heads around to face a man in a uniform, most likely someone who worked on the train. Dammit, Nara thought to herself. She only considered the possibility of passengers seeing them, not an employee. However, slip ups such as this were easily fixed by Taehyung, possessing the power of memory manipulation. He approached the man and waved his hand in front of the man’s eyes, in a calm voice he said, “You never saw us here. Continue with what you were doing.” The man’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he nodded and turned away from us. Taehyung turned around and smirked at us, “Still got it.” Nara rolled her eyes, “Get serious, Tae. That could’ve blown this whole operation.” Taehyun tsked at her and shook his head, “You have such little faith in me.” Rather than contributing to their bickering, Jimin began making his way towards the sliding doors, separating them from the other cars. Nara and Taehyung followed behind as they all made their way towards car sixteen. 

The team finally came upon several confused passengers. Jimin, feigning concern, asked a couple why the train had suddenly stopped. “I don’t know, but someone came back here and told us it would start running again shortly.” They’re window of opportunity was narrowing. “We need a distraction,” Nara whispered to the others. “I have an idea,” Jimin replied, “but let’s get closer to our target.” They continued walking and slipped into car sixteen. Nara scanned the area and noticed a man, sitting by himself, holding a briefcase. He seemed inconspicuous enough, passed as human, except for the gills he was attempting to hide under his shirt collar. He could have the ability to manipulate water or even the ability to swim at inhuman speeds. Either way, he was potentially dangerous and the team needed to execute this perfectly. “Get on with this grand plan of yours Jimin, we don’t have much time,” Taehyung urged. Jimin glanced at Nara, “You got this?” She nodded. Jimin sat down close to a window and the others sat beside him. Jimin placed his hand against the side of the train, shooting volts of electricity from his fingertips. All of the lights on the train sparked and busted, encasing everyone in complete darkness. Passengers screamed and ducked for cover. This was their chance. The man with the briefcase, seeming to know something was off, shuffled out of his seat quickly. Taehyung and Nara followed after him. The man sprayed water from his hand onto the floor, causing Taehyung to slip and fall. Nara easily avoided the water and jumped over Taehyung. “Dammit! Get him, Nara.” The man clutched his briefcase to his chest and ran to the next car. Nara chased after him, shoving away distressed passengers trying to run the opposite direction. Outstretching her hand, she forced him in place. He grunted and struggled in her telekinetic grasp. She approached the man and withdrew her knife from her boot. The man’s eyes widened as if she was squeezing them out of his head. His gills seemed to be gasping for air and sweat dripped down his temple, “P-Please don’t do this. I’m one of you!” Nara felt her stomach churn at his words and grimaced, “You are not one of us,” she said and slit his throat. He made a gurgled sound as blood spurted on her face and chest. Losing her concentration, she released the man from her hold and he fell to the floor with a thump. She wiped her face and looked down at her hands. It was dark on the train, but she could still see the man’s blood on her hands. She felt sick to her stomach from the sight. Taehyung and Jimin finally reached her and lifted his lifeless body. “Let’s go.”

 In their hysterics, the passengers had run to the opposite end of the train so thankfully no one had witnessed the man being killed. Nara pried the door open with her power and helped the other two drag the man’s body out. “What should we do with the body?” Nara asked. “Let the train run over him. That should be sufficient enough for disposal,” Taehyung said and shrugged. Jimin grabbed the suitcase, “This is all we need. Let’s get out of here.” As the train began to move again, the team ran away from the tracks and into the city. 

---

“Thank god this bar stays open late!” Taehyung exclaimed as he downed his drink. After the mission was completed, the team reported to their leader, Namjoon, and delivered the briefcase they were asked to retrieve. Getting the thumbs up from Namjoon, Tae believed celebratory drinks were in order. Nara glanced at her phone, it was 3 am. Most human bars were closed by then, but mutant nightlife lasted much longer, sometimes into the early hours of the morning. Mutationem, a popular mutant-only bar in the city, was a place the team would frequent after missions. Nara sipped her beer and chuckled as she watched Tae flirt with the bartender. She turned to her left and noticed a fluffy grey cat sitting beside her on one of the barstools. “Hi, Yoongi” In a blink of an eye, he shifted back to his human form, clothes somehow intact, “Hey.” Yoongi preferred walking around as a cat, little chance for any verbal interaction but a lot of chances for petting. “That hacking thing you did was pretty convenient. I thought we might have had to jump on top of the train to get in,” she said with a laugh. Yoongi shrugged, “It wasn’t too hard for a genius like myself. Run into any other problems?” Nara shook her head, “Other than having to listen to Tae complain, it went fine.” Yoongi scoffed, “Figures.” Nara watched as she swirled the contents of her bottle around, curiosity consuming her, “So what was in the suitcase?” Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t know. Namjoon didn’t tell me and I didn’t really care to ask.” Nara thought this was strange; it wasn’t like Namjoon to keep things hush hush from the team. As if Yoongi could read the concern on her face, he said, “I’m sure it’s nothing too important. Probably just some info on their next move.” She nodded. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna go back to the base. I’ll see you later.” And with that, Yoongi transformed back into a cat and jumped down from the barstool. Before leaving, he rubbed his head against her leg, making her smile. Nara looked back at her bottle which was still almost full. Deciding it was time for her to go back to base as well, she chugged it and exited the bar. 

She regretted her decision to down her drink so quickly, feeling her head buzzing from the alcohol. Base was only a few minutes away so she decided to walk instead of calling for a government vehicle to pick her up. She shivered as the cold, night air whisked her hair around. Wrapping her arms around herself, she began walking in the direction of the base. As she walked along the sidewalk, Nara could sense someone trailing her. She couldn’t tell if they were actually following her or if her tipsiness was making her paranoid. Deciding to take a shortcut home, she made a b-line to an alley. As soon as she turned the corner, the man following her grabbed her around the waist from behind. Thanks to her military training, Nara easily broke free from his grasp and used her telekinesis to push him back several feet. Stunned, the man fell to the ground and stared at her as if he saw a ghost. “Fucking freak!” he yelled as he scrambled to his feet and ran off. She winced at his words as she watched the man run away. She knew she should be used to this kind of treatment by now, but interactions like that always left a bad taste in her mouth. And these were the people she had sworn to protect, she thought to herself and continued walking back to base. 

---

☽ Bangtan City. Supremus HQ. 3a.m.☾

The small room was dark except for the lamp that illuminated the desk. The mastermind behind Supremus, Bang Si-hyuk, sat broodingly behind the desk, a scowl on his face. Jungkook lounged across the leather couch situated in the shadowy corner of the room, watching the other man that just entered the room. 

“Intel has just informed us that our assailant from the group outside of the city is dead,” he said to Si-hyuk. “Fish boy?”

“Yes, sir.” The man behind the desk scoffed. “Of course he got himself killed. He was one of the weakest among us. I can’t believe they trusted him with such an important task,” Si-hyuk rubbed his face in exasperation. “What about the supplies?” 

“Gone, sir.” Si-hyuk slammed his fist on the desk. Jungkook closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “God dammit! MSO?” 

“Yes, sir. Three of them.” Jungkook sneered at the mention of the MSO. He couldn’t comprehend why any mutant would risk their life for the sake of humans. Humans all had unwarranted arrogance about them even though mutants were obviously the more powerful beings. They exploited these mutants for their own personal gain and still treated them like dirt. Jungkook didn’t understand and he never would. That’s why he had decided to join Supremus. They were considered terrorists by the state, but he didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t a question to him who was more superior. 

“We need the supplies back. If they figure out exactly what we’re doing, the government is going to crack down on us even harder.” 

“What do you suppose we do, sir?” Jungkook stood from his position, “I can get them back.” Si-hyuk eyed Jungkook and shook his head, “No, you’re too valuable of an asset.” Jungkook smirked at him, “You underestimate me.” Si-hyuk considered Jungkook’s words carefully, “I trust you, Jungkook. Do what needs to be done.” 

“Yes, sir.”

[edgarbright]

[ Zero's route | Part 24 spoilers ]

Oh my god, fam, oh my goodness

Don't expect this to be coherent but do expect it to be long because I'm  bursting with emotions right now

Spoiler mentions from Sirius and Edgar’s routes

THIS IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED BUT NEVER EVEN EXPECTED TO HAVE. I didn’t know this was something I could even ASK for.

My five favorite guys teaming up for the battle at the top of the Magic Tower. ALL FIVE OF THEM, NO MORE, NO LESS!

I literally decorated my room like this months ago to make this image but never had reason to use it-- until now!

Before I jump into part 24, let's go back a few parts for a second! All the events building up to this battle were marvelous.

The themes for this route are all about saving, rescuing, helping, belonging, loving.

And the bonds of trust.

Lancelot saves Alice from the Magic Tower, from himself, by directing Edgar to change assignment orders and send Zero to "help" him. Lancelot trusts Zero so much that he trusted Zero to betray him. He trusted Zero to do the right thing.

MY HEART IS BURSTING WITH LOVE FOR MY KING! T_T

Zero saves Alice from Lancelot at the Magic Tower's front door. He promised to protect her. He wanted to protect her. So he threw away everything to do so.

Harr saves Alice from the forest. Harr is "repenting for his sins" in regards to Zero and wouldn't have made a move if Zero hadn't agreed to it. But Zero realized he had to trust him. More so, Zero may have vaguely remembered him (per His POV) and knew he could trust him.

Harr and Alice go to save Zero from the Magic Tower. Alice already trusts Harr. Fun fact: Alice is ALWAYS quick to trust Harr in every route. (Then again, she’s quick to trust just about anyone so lol) I loved that we got a moment at Harr’s house and finally met Loki! It was a sweet little family moment. My belief has always been that Zero is also part of Harr’s “family” too and I was not disappointed! Zero carrying on Harr’s lollipop kindness. My heart. T_T

I would love it if Edgar got his candy addiction from Zero giving him candy for the first time and then it just got out of control (lol). No evidence yet but the route isn’t over...!

The truth about Zero reveal: I had already surmised as much because too many people in this fandom hint at spoilers like it’s their job but it still hurt to read about. The flashbacks to Zero as a child in the Tower are honestly painful. Also knowing that Harr would have been about 15 during those flashbacks, we now have one child trying to stay kind and show kindness to another child in a cruel environment and T_T Harr just wanted to study magic to make the world a better place, and instead he got wrangled into a world of child abuse and torture... And he’s still seeking to repent after twelve years for not saving Zero back then...

Edgar saves Alice from her prison cell. Good lordy God bless. Before that we saw him basically running Red Army HQ with Lancelot gone and Jonah at the front. Beautiful. Edgar is nothing BUT trustworthy in Zero's entire route. When Zero isn't around to protect Alice, such as at the party, he trusts Edgar to do it and Edgar does it spectacularly because Edgar is, in fact, the best.

As Dean so wonderfully stated earlier: Edgar is great at taking care of other people.

AND THAT’S THE TEA! Don’t let anyone tell you Edgar is anything but loving!

Edgar realizes Alice wants to come along with him to save Zero. Edgar trusts Alice to know what is best for her. He trusts Alice cares for Zero as much as Edgar cares for Zero, so they'll work together. BEAUTIFUL. I love my man acknowledging Alice’s strength!

Lancelot causing the explosion was somewhat expected. He’d vanished earlier and I KNEW he had to be up to something, somewhere.

And that moment when he betrayed Amon!? HOT DAMN I LOVE MY KING, Y’ALL!! A shame his attack didn’t work but I am ALL about that rescue-Lancelot lifestyle! Harr is too as we’ll see shortly lmao

Edgar saves Lancelot by evening the odds. THE TRUST BETWEEN THEM COMES FULL CIRCLE. I'm STILL buzzing over that goddamn moment chapters earlier when Edgar comes upon Lancelot kidnapping Alice from Red Army HQ. I honestly couldn't tell if Edgar would have followed commands or fight back, but you could tell he was wrestling with it. If Lancelot had forced him to follow orders, that would have been the ultimate betrayal considering Edgar is already pact-bound to be an obedient dog. Lancelot instead has Alice locked away so he can talk to Edgar 1:1. Lancelot might not have told him the whole truth but Edgar is intelligent enough to put the pieces together himself. He often does so in other routes without prompting.

Edgar and Alice save Zero together. EDGAR’S PLATONIC LOVE IS GIVEN EQUAL FOOTING AS ALICE’S ROMANTIC LOVE!! That moment when Zero was still holding out against Alice's pleading and Edgar just round-house kicks him to the ground and puts a sword to his neck and just DEMANDS Zero to think about who he is, what he wants, why he wields his sword!

HOT DAMN YOU TELL HIM, EDGAR! I LOVE EDGAR SO FREAKING MUCH!

My heart hurts so much for Zero, who was robbed, even temporarily, of all that love by the Magic Tower T_T They tossed him away, he found a place to belong, and they tore that from him. The absolute cruelty.

And then surprise! Loki saves Harr from imprisonment! Harr is no damsel in distress so I was wondering if our current team was going to have to rescue him later, or if he was going to rescue himself. But he absolutely deserved to be at the final fight AND I WAS NOT DISAPPOINTED! The second that ??? for the speaker showed up I was just !!!!!

Basically Edgar and then Harr’s appearances got me like:

So now we have a Lancelot, Edgar, Alice, Harr, and Loki team-up vs. Amon and Dalim! Operation Stop Amon and Save Zero is in full effect!

And holy shi-- The moment when Amon starts using Zero's tattoo to hurt him was brutal. It was bad enough when Dalim did it in front of Zero’s soldiers but  here they are at it again in front of all the people who care about Zero the most.

Personally, I think it's wild that some people claim Ikevamp is darker than Ikerev. The Ikevamp cast talk about dark plots but the Ikerev cast deal directly with war, murder, betrayal, coercion, kidnapping, child abuse, child neglect, torture, PTSD, depression, child abandonment, and more. It just wraps them up in a prettier, brighter package.

But moving on!

Alice saves Zero from Amon. I love all the flashbacks. I love Alice's promise to Zero. I love how she guards his neck to keep him from hurting himself and how she'll protect him. How they’ll protect each other. It hurt so bad but felt so good.

(Mockingjay Part 2 was on TV last night so I already got a heavy dose of Peeta and Katniss angst and how they always protect each other -- “It’s what we do” -- so I was primed for the feels between Zero and Alice here.)

At some point Alice also shows sympathy for Dalim and that struck a cord with me as well. I was actually wondering what the point of Dalim has been, as a potential suitor, since he's just been acting like a second-rate Amon this whole time, being just as villainous and coercing Lancelot the same as Amon. But seeing Amon abusing Dalim, too, and having Dalim continue to fight even when he was in such bad shape just gives me a throw-back to Edgar, who continues to follow his uncle's orders even at the cost of hurting himself. Although that Dalim used Zero's tattoo to hurt him is a big F-NO so he's got lots of redeeming to do lol

Lancelot and Harr (LANCELOT AND HARR, TOGETHER, ALLIES, FRIENDS!!) save Edgar, Alice, and Loki from the collapsing building. Lancelot and Harr aren’t antagonists in this route! HARR ONLY HAS TO SAY LANCELOT’S NAME AND LANCELOT KNOWS WHAT HE MEANS AND WHAT THEY NEED TO DO!

Harr: Lancelot!

Lancelot: Yeah!

Lancelot and Harr used their magic to shield us from the falling debris.

THAT'S IT THAT'S ALL THE CONVERSATION THEY NEED AND THEY ARE IMMEDIATELY IN UNISON. My heart is bursting with love and happiness from such a small moment. I hope we get some follow-up after this omg

(As a salty aside, this is leagues different to when Harr shows up in Sirius's route and Sirius is just like, "What are you doing here???" and then Sirius gives Loki the third-degree with all that mistrust.)

BUT MOVING ON!

That final CG with Zero makes my heart bleed. He looks so sad and so tired, but he’s alive.

Zero: I'm home.

Alice: Welcome home!

I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING!!!

I love Zero so much. A lot. In abundance. The love and relief is so palpable at this moment. Alice and Zero have such a beautiful love story.

Part 24 took me over a half hour to read which is twice as long as usual and every second of it was a PLEASURE. Just a few days left until I’m done with the whole route and it’s honestly shaping up to be one of the best in any otome. It’s adapted a lot of elements from other routes and made them it’s own to great effect. Just a fantastic, well-rounded story with a beautifully heart-warming romance. Bless bless bless!!

[youllallriseintheink]

Infinity: chapter 3- A way out.

Time to start the “where did this character end up?” game.

---

To Allison Pendle, immortality has been a blessing, but also a curse. In the past century since her transformation, she’d seen the downfall of Joey Drew Studios, joined a gang in which she worked under Lacie Benton and Shawn Flynn, gone through rehab, seen a multitude a countries, been a singer, an actress, a missionary, a mother, and a drug dealer, rubbed shoulders with Wally as a performing circus freak, gone to rehab, been rich, been homeless, tried almost every hobby imaginable, read more books, met more people, done more drugs, and had generally lived life to the fullest. The past little bit, though, she was bored with it. She’d begun to envy older people, who were able to slow down with age, and eventually die. And so, she eventually returned to Brightdale.

Brightdale as Allison remembered it, was a small and mostly unnotable little town, but it was a very significant place to Allison. It was where, in her time randomly traveling the country in her early twenties, she’d first discovered that witchcraft was real.

In present, the place had been deserted entirely. As Allison walked the empty streets lined with overgrowth, a delightfully haunted feeling came over her. She’d have to explore these dusty houses when she was finished with her mission. It was on the edge of town that she found the house of the witch she had stayed with and stolen from. Its windows and doors were thoroughly grown over with vines roots at this point. Thankfully, Allison had half-way expected the place would be patroled by some sort of guardian creature and had thus come prepared with a shotgun and a machete. There was nothing special about the foliage and it gave way fairly easily, allowing Allison in.

Within it, Allison found the place nearly untouched- nicely lit, no dust, nothing. Was the witch still here? Allison raised her gun and listened as creaking wooden steps gave away the old woman's presence. "I have a reversal shield on me. Don't try anything," Allison asserted. It was a lie, but not one to be taken lightly- casting a spell, especially an offensive one, on a reversal shield could very easily prove deadly.

"Allison?" the witch growled. "Very well, you fucking thief. What do want from me?"

"Ingredient number 30."

The old woman went to her spice cabinet, took out the ingredient, and threw it at Allison. "Anything else?"

"Well, there is something I'd like to ask you. You don't actually look like that, do you?"

The witch smiled wryly. "No... I actually look quite a bit like you. But you see, if I looked like you, then boys would be following me home all the time, getting to learn my secrets because they're after the one between my legs. It's protective to look like this."

Allison nodded. "That's what I thought. So," she pulled a recipe of sorts out of her pocket, "do you think this could kill you?"

The witch stared on in fear.

"Not that I want to kill you. I just think we should have the option."

---

It was the middle of the day when Henry received that very important letter (not the first Very Important Letter he'd received from someone in that bygone studio!). He had been in his office at the official headquarters of Disney, and the letter had been brought to him by his wife, Elaine. It read:

Dear Henry Stein,

This is  one of the immortals. I have found a potion that can cure our immortality. If you'd like it, or just like to see the rest of us again, me in Brightdale, Ohio at seven at night exactly one week from today.

See you soon (oops, that sounds ominous),

-Allison Pendle

"What is it, honey?" Elaine asked. Elaine knew that Henry was immortal, along with with pretty much everything else about him. They'd been married for fifteen years now, from her late twenties to her early forties, and had fostered many children together. Henry loved her, and certainly didn't think of her as some mayfly pet. But he wouldn't have wanted to talk about this with anyone.

"Nothing," Henry responded, perfectly calm.

"Okay," Elaine said, leaving with a look on her face that suggested that she suspected things maybe weren't.

Henry immediately tossed the letter in the trash and attempted to focus on the paperwork on his desk- fourums on the theme park he was planning on building with the help of Bertrum Piedmont. Finding he couldn't, Henry turned over the sheet and turned to his oldest coping mechanism- drawing. He was good now- all that time loop stuff was forgotten. But he was never in a million, billion, trillion years going to risk seeing Joey Drew's face again. Infinity didn't scare him much nowadays, and it scared him infinitely less than that.

---

The next house that the letter found its way to was a big, but run-down. Not many knew it, but it was where a pair of extremely well-established drug lords operated. As of right now, there were several people passed out on the crack-dusted leather couches, one of them being Lacie Benton, who was hungover from having used more substances than she could name the night before. "Hey Lacie. Letter from your old lover is here," Shawn called.

"Which one?" Lacie returned.

"The Raven."

Lacie rolled her eyes. "It was one kiss. She wanted to try it. Are you going to tease me about that until the very ends of time?"

"Probably," Shawn replied, gathering up some crack from the end table and snorting it. He couldn't wait until their next shipment would arrive, later in the afternoon.

Groggy, she got up and took the letter from Shawn's hands.

"Oh my God."

"What? Is she coming back to us?"

"No, it's better than that. She wants to give us a suicide drug!"

Shawn shared her excitement. At this point, they were both due for life-sentences, and for them, that would mean jail for centuries or millennia. Not anymore. Not with these. They were going to that meeting.

---

"So, Samuel Lawrence, explain to us why we should allow you, a man currently on parole and with many, many felonies in your past however distant, become a priest."

Sammy took a deep breath. In a similar courtroom to the one he now stood in, he'd answered the same question five years ago when he'd argued why he should be allowed in a seminary. now he had to argue it again in order to be licensed. At very least, the church where he'd done his practicum had agreed to hire him if he got through this, so he wouldn't have to make this same speech a third time.

"Your honour. I do not deny my crimes. However, as you said, they took place now nearly a century ago. I led unofficial church groups in prison which turned many people to better behaviour. I has released from my sentence- 7 charges of attempted murder at eight years each and seven charges of first degree murder at twenty years each- literal centuries early for my good behaviour, an absolutely unprecedented decision. And as one of my letters of recommendation will tell you, I stayed in prison an extra year to support the people I'd met there. What's more, and I know this is old news to you, I am immortal. The amount of life experience I could gain is immense, and I want to climb my way up through the catholic church system so that I can pass it on. Even now, I am 133 years old. Through prison and in my music career before it, I heard the stories of more people than I can count. I have experience in dealing with the worst sinners, and as we all know, a church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints. There are few people with as much life experience as me and fewer whose minds are still sharp. In short, I have made a positive impact on people's lives, and I want to get myself in a position where I'll be able to do that for as many people as possible. Thank you."

Sammy was breathing heavily from emotion as he finished his speech and sat back down. The judge said some words that Sammy barely registered about letting the jury decide. Sammy's stomach knotted up and he felt like either screaming or disappearing.

Half an hour later, he emerged from the courthouse elated, as a licensed priest. The letter was in his mailbox once he got home. Sammy laughed, then ripped it up. Today was the first step on the path to his destiny. Why would he in a million years want to die?

---

A copy of the letter came to Bickmore Insane asylum. The receptionist opened it and saw that it was addressed to one of the patients, Joseph "Joey" Drew. The receptionist did not feel badly for reading the patient's mail. For one thing, Joseph couldn't have read it anyhow. For another, Joseph honestly deserved it.

Rumour had it that decades ago- and it was decades, since Joseph was one of the immortals- Joseph had been given l a sentence spanning centuries for seven charges of attempted murder, twenty-something charges of murder, and innumerable charges of unlawful imprisonment. One of his victims had been the murder of a seventeen-year-old boy, and as a result, prison was not at all kind to Joseph. The other prisoners would beat the life out of him regularly, doing things to him that would kill most people, including giving him severe brain damage and forcing him to stumble around for hours on end as his brain repaired itself. As a result, Joseph was quickly moved to protective custody, and then to solitary confinement.

After the trauma of his treatment by the other prisoners and the solitary confinement had left him far too anxious and aggressive to be kept with the others, he was sent to Bickmore, where he at first seemed to make a quick recovery. There was, after all, a physical component to trauma, and Joseph's brain was just as resilient as the rest of him. But every time he seemed nearly ready to be transferred back to prison, he would cause a scene with panic visible in his eyes. He would begin to scream nonsense about beetles in his veins, throw objects, and attack faculty members and fellow patients. It didn't matter how many times it was explained to Joseph that he would be transferred right back to protective custody this time and the other prisoners would not be able to hurt him. Joseph did not want to go back to prison, and would do anything to buy himself more time.

As time went on, Joseph's apparent breaks from reality became more and more realistic. He would question faculty members about whether he was going back to prison, and attack them out of suspicion. The final straw, however, was when, on the first day he'd been allowed near other patients unsupervised since his last outburst, stabbed a 60-year-old schizophrenia patient with a butter knife and then a fork because he was convinced she was a spy for "the prison system." Joseph was pulled off of her, put into permanent solitary confinement, and sedated. Even now, he was in solitary, treated with the extreme care one would use for a dangerous beast, and kept heavily sedated.

Of course, the secretary didn't know any of that. Unless one had access to his files, that was all rumour- myth. She passed the letter onto her superior, who called Allison to ask that she send the drug. It was about time that someone put Joseph Drew out of his misery.

---

Thomas Connor had been making pancakes for his family when Boris brought him the mail in his mouth. Thomas smiled and took it with no word but a pat on Boris' head. The mail that day consisted of two letters and a newspaper. The first letter was just a bill, but the second one was from Allison Pendle.

What could that crazy bitch want from him? Thomas didn't know. A while ago he would have been mad, but now it had been so long that he honestly didn't feel anything. At least he had Alice to talk to if it was romantic. "Boris, could you take over for me?" he asked, moving over to the kitchen table to open the letter. Once he'd read it over, he crumpled it up, then uncrumpled it and found a fresh sheet of paper on which to write a reply.

Dear Allison

Thomas paused. He supposed he ought to keep this formal, at least at first, and wrote down her last name before continuing.

What are you up to? I don’t think I’ve seen you in person since that one time with the New York City Police.

Me, I’m still an engineer. Not for GENT- they went out of business a while after I left them. I’d worked for a few different places, but most recently (ha- “recently.” It was decades ago!) I’ve been  hired by an elite team of researchers who were looking into the ink machine. We eventually figured out how to save the people within these ink shells. You see, some of them have a human soul and a toon presence, and some get a third, demonic presence mixed in. We just had to separate them and give them separate bodies. Or cubes, in the case of the demons and toons. Don’t want them running away on us, do we? Anyhow, the humans took first priority. I saved that Buddy kid that we met and kept him at my house for a few years so that he could finish his schooling. After we were done with the people though, some bleeding heart thought we should give proper bodies to the cartoons because they “had over two decades of life experience, could feel pain and emotion,” you see where this is going. I thought it was stupid, but I was being paid to be an engineer, and if this was to be my project, so be it.

Thomas stopped and looked up. An Edgar (yes, an. Thomas had two) was playing Snakes and Ladders with Bendy and Alice on the floor. Dog, who was one one of his three Borises and the only one who walked on four legs like, well, a dog, was currently getting confronted by two sets of Charleys and Barleys for making his other Edgar cry. The Boris lowered himself to the ground in a doglike show of submission and apology, which the butcher gang members seemed to accept.

I guess they were right. Bringing them all back was a gradual process, and we could adopt some of them out. You’d be surprised how few people want to adopt a bunch of living cartoons with a truckload of trauma and no knowledge of the real world, though. I ended up with eleven of them. And it was supposed to be temporary, but now there’s a whole bunch of em’ I don’t want to separate (butcher gang trios especially) and, well, I guess I’m stuck with them. Not that I don’t like them, but I kind of wish I weren’t so tied down. I feel like I could do great things as an engineer, and while I love my kids, I kind of don’t want them to be my eternity, you know?

So that’s all to say, no. I can’t die. Can’t abandon my kids. But I’d love to see you again. Maybe I could come into town and meet up?

-Your fellow immortal, Thomas Connor