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blorbologist · 2 years

Note

Kittens AU bc of course

and then two Wild Card AUs of Your Choice

Hmmm to find things I haven't shared with you:

A lot of the inspiration for the more benign aspects of this AU is going to come from my experience with two litters: the one that resulted in Jolie, my lil bastard runt, and Miss Thing + Pam, my Gorls my Criturs

However, a lot of the more dramatic beats are just... inspired by how hard life is for abandoned cats and kittens in general. Because as cute as kittens are, unwanted cats are a real problem and everyone loses when unplanned litters happen :c

I figure Percy actually named Curio - he noticed this pretty cat started hanging around the workshop a month or so before the events of the story. He built her some shelters to keep her warm in the worst of the chill - she was very curious but terrified of him, and he had never seen a stray cat with her colors: hence, Curio. (I asked @insyndiar for name ideas SO nkjgrtn <3)

My backstory for Curio is that she was someone's pet, a kitten taken home by a family who never had cats before. She didn't get spayed before her first heat and got out, and when her owners realized she was pregnant they just... dumped her because they couldn't afford to get her spayed, let alone feed and house a litter of kittens. She's very lost, scared and confused, and hardly more than a kitten herself. :C I figure if she got inside, with consistent meals and care, she'd be quite the sweetheart.

There are plenty of other options for housing the kittens: most sensibly, Percy can just take them on and bring them to his house (ok bourgeoisie boy) instead of practically moving in with Vex. It's just that his place is 40 minutes away, so they first bring the kittens to Vex's to warm them up, and from there it's just... too much of a bother to move them. (Also Vex knows Percy has little experience with animals so she'd rather be on standby in case he calls in a panic because one of them is dreaming and twitching in its sleep and Vex is this normal??)

And for some more AUs!

Let's start with some One for sorrow / Two for joy HCs I'm not sure I'll squeeze into the sequel fic or not:

Allura has PTSD now :D yay :D I'm not sure how much I can devote to it, but being Feebleminded for several days with little food and water, with a dragon and his army actively hunting you? Yeah that'll fuck a girl up. Still unsure if she'll keep her position on the Council or retire as a result.

OOC, the same mixup as canon happens when Grog has Kaylie draw a card from the Deck: Matt initially thinks it's the card for the random magic item, but later retcons it to be the curse. So Kaylie's cursed now! Make of that what you will. :)

I had thought up a scene were Percy and Cass visit some graveless gravestones placed in their parents' and siblings' names before the Thordak fight - however, given how long the chapter was getting + the fact neither Vex nor Vax would see it, I kept it to myself. It would have really made it obvious Percy had decided to leave VM once the world was safe. The remaining de Rolos really just ended up talking about what they remembered of their family, how their people would remember them, and what to do going forward. Cass absolutely made a comment about Vex being nobility as soon as she got the paperwork filed, so, y'know, perfectly suitable to court (they certainly have room in their little family for her), which made Percy Unusually Solemn instead of blushy.

As soon as VM left, Cass cornered Percy in his workshop and absolutely fucking chewed him out. He has friends, he has freedom, things she's absolutely dreamed of having these last five years, and he just - he just threw that all away? She eventually quiets when she realizes he's not responding, he's just so drained and focused on his project. They eventually settle for a hug and some quiet support.

Trinket is actually pretty happy with Cass! He misses Vex of course, but trusts Vax to protect her. Galdric? Verdict's out on Galdric - bears and wolves don't get along as a rule, but this one smells of power and ancient magics.

Oh god this is getting so long erfkneknger uhhh one more AU, let's sayyyy Bashter 2/3 Vampire AU:

Yasha was turned by Obann, which caused her whole Orphanmaker thing and is why she easily get swayed under his control under Bazzoxan despite, yknow, being a vampire in this AU.

I think Jester almost dies, for good, in the final fight against Lucien. Somehow Yasha turns her into a vampire to avoid this, which - severely miffs half the party. But Yasha was just forced to help kill this thing who still is, deep down, her best friend. She's not thinking straight and she can't lose anyone else.

Beau and Yasha help Jester adapt to the whole creature of the night thing. It's a weird irony, that adventurous Jester is forced to become more sedentary like her mom and dad as a result of the whole 'burning in the sunlight' thing. Yasha, being a nomad, has some helpful tips for handling it, but it's definitely a harsh learning curve.

I feel Bad about excluding Fjord from this after watching the M9 reunited, given he and Jester are so fucking cute together there. So? I guess it's Bashter + Fjester. Tusks and fangs look very cute together when they're smiling earnestly at eachother. Fjord was very conflicted about Jes being a vampire initially, given he's familiar with being beholden to terrible power, and keeps gently prodding her to be honest about her feelings about the less pleasant sides to it. So like Polynein with only half the Nein while Cad, Caleb, Veth, Essek and Kingsley all just watch this with varying levels of confusion.

Essek whips up a simple cousin to the light-blocking spell of Rosohna he enchants to the Bashter home, so they don't need to worry quite as much about carefully keeping the windows drawn. He makes a Very Specific Face when Jester makes jokes about him totally being a vampire too.

#critical role #cat's cradle au #vex is the raven queen's champion au #vampire!bashter #bashter #perc'ahlia #percahlia #my writing #ask #holy shit that's a lot

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

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GF - We’re Coming Back Home

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, the last one I plan to do, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 3rd.

~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, miraculously, through all of Ford’s traveling, through countless dimensions, his Quantum Destabilizer remained on his back and fully intact.

Okay, well, mostly intact. Partially intact.

When he was finally ready to attack Bill and put an end to his reign of terror, his plans had been put on hold when a crack in space-time opened. He didn’t dare hope that it was a way home, but maybe if he aimed correctly, the shot would not only kill Bill, but fly him home. But no, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young girl fly out of the hole, and with reflexes he developed over thirty years of staying alive in the worst circumstances, he hooked his Quantum Destabilizer onto his back, caught the girl, and swam through the gravity-less air for safety, hiding behind an asteroid, putting a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissing for her silence, swearing she would be okay, and they barely made it out as Bill’s words echoed through the Nightmare Realm.

“Sixer’s caught a Shooting Star, boys!”

Ford had no idea what that was supposed to mean at the time, but now a month later, he thinks he finally understood. His niece, Shermie’s granddaughter, Mabel, loved stars, and was very much like one herself. Always shining. Always so bright and full of hope. Many times in history, and even today in other dimensions, runaway slaves used the stars as maps to guide them to a better place. Ford often wondered if Mabel was his star, maybe not guiding him physically to a safe haven, but guiding him to a happier mindset. Guiding him to a life that isn’t completely isolated. Guiding him to a life that included love.

The last few weeks have been challenging, sure, but not that much more challenging than traveling alone; Mabel was a fast learner, and while she refused to use a knife or gun (“Cuz those hurt, Grunkle Ford!”), she was perfectly comfortable with pop-rocks and making foes lose their footing and fall down so they couldn’t attack. And she was very good at hunting for food and water and other reliable resources.

In fact, Ford would easily say the last few weeks have been the happiest of his life. Maybe only tying with when Fiddleford joined him in Gravity Falls, before work on the portal became dangerous, but after he realized that maybe the woods had been too quiet the last six years.

After just a day and a half, Ford was fully-aware of his attachment to his niece and how much it would ruin him if he lost her. Mabel was everything a good person strives to be: kind, sweet, a pleasure to be around, but not a pushover, either; Mabel Pines knew how to stand her ground.

And so the last month was littered with so many happy memories. Ford was a little hurt when she “borrowed” two broken fishing poles and fixed them up so they could fish, but he very quickly enjoyed sitting on a log by a river and fishing with Mabel. Ford found it brought her much comfort to brush her hair, and he also discovered he enjoyed a calm brush himself. Ford found he didn’t mind the extra weight of his niece on his shoulders; quite the contrary, he found it comforting, and he was always swallowed with peace when she was so relaxed with him that she fell asleep, using his fluffy gray hair as a pillow.

No longer was Ford met with suspicious looks when he walked down the street of a market alone, face hidden. Quite the opposite. He was always met with smiles and warm greetings, and sometimes a little extra food was thrown into a purchase for free. Be it because people saw him as a parent with an adorable child, or because of Mabel’s charm. Or both.

The dimensions they came across were random and different, just like it was when Ford traveled alone. Some dimensions were like an alien sci-fi movie, completely different with no humans. Some dimensions were scaringly like home, with a small difference here and there. Ironically, the alien-like dimensions were typically safer, because they were used to travelers and weird-looking creatures.

But Ford guessed it would be okay if he and Mabel stepped into a normal grocery store to buy some food.

They had come across a “normal” dimension, and while Ford’s first thought was to retreat for the woods, he heard Mabel’s stomach growl, and he decided her health was more important. So they stepped in and kept to themselves.

Ford and Mabel were picking up crackers when the little girl grinned at rows of cereals behind them. “Grunkle Ford, can I please pick a cereal?” She asked politely.

The old scientist thought about it for a moment. Cereal would definitely cover a few meals and be light and easy to carry, and it wouldn’t get hold too quickly, and he had wanted to get her at least one nice thing while in the store, so he nodded and said, “Yes, dear, you may pick one box. Any flavor you want.”

“Thank you!” And Mabel took the time to hug him before skipping over to the cereals to look.

Ford chuckled and picked some crackers, then decided to browse the fruit snacks, debating if it would be wise. Probably not, because if they get stuck in another desert climate the gummies could melt and make a mess, but they could make a good snack for Mabel. He held his chin, debating the idea, while a couple was also looking over the cereals.

“Which do you think Dad would want?” The yellow-haired woman asked.

“Honey, who cares what Rick wants? Just get a cereal you’ll like.” The husband said with an eye roll.

Ford froze at that name. No no, that was most definitely a different Rick. It was a common enough name, and there were billions of dimensions. There was no way Ford and Mabel somehow managed to stumble into C-137. He ultimately decided against gummies and he then looked at the trail mixes and granola bars. Both were always a good option.

“I know, but I want him to feel welcome, you know?” The wife said as she picked a box. “He’s been travelling in space alone for years…”

Oh no. No, no, no. Ford quickly chose some packets of trail mix and several granola bars and hurried back to his niece. He was not going to do this today. Nope.

Mabel grinned at him, a box of cereal in hand, and she held it out to him. “Look, Grunkle Ford, do you like this flavor? I can pick a different one if you want.”

“Oh, thank you, my dear, but I like the one you picked.” Ford did a decent job masking his uneasiness and he took her hand and smiled. “Why don’t we pick up some fruit for today, and then we’ll go fishing for dinner?”

“Yay! Sounds great!”

Ford didn’t miss the yellow-haired woman smiling at them as they left the aisle. If that was who he thought it was… She really didn’t look anything like him. She might have just favored her mother. Who else would have spent years traveling space? Bastard.

Ford may have hated him for many reasons, but choosing to abandon his girls was at the top of the list.

At the checkout line, Ford nervously watched the total of their purchase go up with each beep. He recounted their cash and made a small list of items in his mind for them to go down if they couldn’t afford everything. A few granola bars can go. And, maybe they could find band-aids elsewhere and “borrow” them.

The worker rang up the last item and Ford smiled when he saw the total was 29.89. He had thirty. But then the worker pressed the total button and taxes were added. Shit, right. That made their total 35.45. Ford winced. Mabel looked up at him worriedly, but she smiled and stood on her tippy-toes to see the worker better.

“Hi, I’m Mabel! Can you please put the cereal back? We don’t really need it.”

Ford looked down at her, surprised and also a little disheartened. He had really wanted to get her at least one nice thing, but truth be told the cereal was the most expensive item, so it made sense to get rid of it first. Still, it sucked.

“Total’s now 32.14.”

Ford bit his lip. “Very well, may we please put the band-aids back, too?”

The worker nodded, seeming tired and annoyed, but they didn’t say a word. Blissfully, the total went down to 29.99.

With hands full of bags, Mabel and Ford paused at the beginning of the parking lot to move their groceries into their backpacks. While they worked, the old scientist said, “I’m sorry I could afford your cereal, Mabel.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” The girl said instantly. “I’ve got something even sweeter.” And she grinned at her grunkle and gave him a warm smile.

Ford smiled back at her tiredly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do.” Mabel insisted and hugged him around the neck, nuzzling her face into his shoulder and determined to sink as much comfort as she could into his skin. “I love you Grunkle Ford. Please don’t beat yourself up, m’k?”

Ford hugged her back and petted her short brown hair. It was certainly easier to feel better with a ball of sunshine in his arms.

They both heard rustling behind them as a buggy rolled from the door to the parking lot. They both looked behind Mabel and saw a bag with the cereal and the band-aids in it. They looked around and saw no one, except for the yellow-haired woman and her husband going to their car.

Mabel grinned and hollered to them, “Thank you!”

They didn’t respond, but the woman did smile and wave before putting groceries into her car. As appreciated as Ford was for her kindness, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. No offense to her. She seemed like a very lovely lady.

But then it hit Ford like a pile of rocks. What was it he had said before he had pulled out his gun and left Ford to travel alone? “And hey, if you ever wanna travel without customs or waiting for wormholes to open, don’t come looking for me.” And then he winked and fell backwards into a pool of green, leaving Ford to curse his name.

If this was like before, when Ford was alone, he wouldn’t dare. But if he could help get Mabel home…

Ford took Mabel’s hand and muttered, “Come with me.” And she followed without question.

Beth felt good helping the old man and the little girl, and she didn’t expect anything more. Really, it was only five dollars worth of stuff. But she was happy when they started to walk towards her, so she trusted Jerry to finish loading up the car and she smiled at them.

“Excuse me, miss, I just want to thank you for what you did.” The old man said.

“Oh, you’re welcome, it was no trouble at all.”

“I… I hope I’m not being too invasive, but… but I believe you know someone I know.”

Beth smiled. Small world! “Really? That’s great! Oh, are you a relative of Dave’s? Or, you know, I do know a lot of people indirectly from the horse-track.”

“Er, no.” The old man gave her a more serious look, and then asked quietly, “Do you know Rick Sanchez?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Beth was so excited to give Stanford Pines and his niece, Mabel, a ride, and to invite them to dinner, not only because she thought seeing an old friend might make her dad smile, but maybe she’ll learn more about what he’s been up to all these years. The man was very polite and the girl was as sweet as can be, both of whom looked rough and in need of a cozy bed and maybe a soothing bath. Jerry was a little unsure, not wanting “more Ricks” into his house, but after a huf from the girl and a cheerful greeting, Jerry couldn’t help but tell the girl she was more than welcome, so now he was roped in.

Mabel noticed that her uncle looked distracted. He was looking out his window, but his eyes were elsewhere. He was thinking. So she decided to try to help him with his thoughts. “Grunkle Ford, who’s Rick Sanchez?” She asked quietly.

Ford looked at her, sighed quietly, and muttered, “He’s an intergalactic scientist. He’s ridiculously intelligent and clever, and… a bit…” Ford pursed his lips. All the words that came to mind he didn’t want Mabel hearing, so he settled on. “... mad.”

“Oh. Is he like a real mad-scientist?” Mabel asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Yes, but with less laughter, more slurs and sluggish demeanor, and even less consideration of other living things.”

Mabel noticed his cold tone and grew concerned. “You don’t like him, do you?”

Ford bit his lip. No, he didn’t. But there was a more important reason why he didn’t want to see Rick today.

Mabel leaned in closer and whispered, “Is he mean?”

Trust Mabel to sum it up perfectly for her uncle. “Yes.” Ford said just as quietly. “And I don’t want him meeting you.”

“Why?”

Ford hesitated. But being blunt and honest seemed to be working, and it was best for Mabel to prepare herself for the lion’s den they were walking into. “I don’t want him to hurt your feelings.” a bit elementary, but it was the best way to explain it to a child without scaring her too much.

Mabel, however, grinned. “Grunkle Ford, no one can resist the Power of Mabel.”

Ford smiled and ruffled her hair softly. “We’ll see…”

“So, if you don’t like Mr. Sanchez, then why are we going to go see him?”

“He’s an expert on interdimensional-travel.” Ford informed her. “He might know how to get us home.”

Mabel’s eyes widened and she “oh”ed as she realized what was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~

The garage door was open to let in good lighting and fresh air. But that wasn’t an invitation to come in whenever people feel like it; Rick will have to work on a security system to keep nosy neighbors away. He was opening a box and getting organized when he heard his daughter’s car roll into the driveway. He didn’t bother to look up, instead waited for the sounds of car doors opening to say something.

“Hey sweetie, welcome back.”

“Dad,” Beth said, sounding giddy. Rick hated giddy. But he had only been here for a week and he didn’t feel like making his daughter hate him just yet, so he settled for rolling his eyes and continuing what he was doing. “I have a surprise for you!”

“Wow! You have a nice house! Cool garage, too!” A young voice said.

Rick was halted. He turned in his chair and raised an eyebrow to find a young girl with short brown hair and braces holding hands with an old nerd with fluffy charcoal hair, glasses, and six fingers.

“Oh my God!” Rick laughed. “Holy-...” A dark look from the old traveler made Rick stop; he can piss him off later. First he needs to figure out why the hell he is here and what the hell he wants. “Jeez, you look terrible, Fordsie.” The mad scientist snorted as he leaned against his desk with his hands in his pockets.

Ford rolled his eyes and said, “And you still look like a soft breeze will blow you away, Sanchez.”

Mabel bit her lip and quietly, “Oooooh”ed, like she was listening to a rap battle.

“So,” Beth stretched, clearly hoping for more information or a more satisfying reunion, but she wasn’t getting it naturally, so she decided to push a little. “How do you two know each other?”

“The Multiverse is a pretty big place, sweetie.” Rick answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll have this nerd gone before you finish unloading the car. Don’t want to risk another mass genocide.” He sneered.

Ford’s face turned red and he yelled, “I didn’t know it was a planet! It looked too similar to a sandwich for it to be a planet!”

Rick laughed and looked at the little girl. She looked maybe a little younger than Morty. “Who’s that you got with you?”

Ford closed his eyes, debating if he should tell Rick it wasn’t any of his business, or get the introduction over with. But before he could make a decision, Mabel beat him to the punch.

She let go of Rick’s hand, hopped to him, and looked up at his bean-pole stature and smiled and waved. “Hi! I’m Mabel! You’re a scientist, too? Cool! I like your hair! How old are you? Have you ever met a dinosaur? What’s your favorite food?”

Rick blinked like a startled lizard at the girl, glanced up at Ford, and then looked back down at Mabel. Rick smiled and sat in his chair to be closer to her level, and held out a hand to shake, which she happily accepted and shook a little rough. “Hey there, I’m Rick. Yes, I’m a scientist. Thank you, I like your hair, too. Yes, I’ve met a dinosaur, several in different dimensions. And, pancakes.”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled. “I love pancakes, too! Maybe we can make some together!”

“Maybe, but I’ve got the feeling that’s not why you’re here.” Rick suggested kindly. And no, Ford wasn’t at all suspicious that he was being kind to Mabel.

“Oh! Yeah! Grunkle Ford thinks you can help us get home.”

“Huh. You’re great-uncle, huh? Sure, okay, let’s get started.” Rick rolled over to a cabinet and took out an odd machine. It came with a tiny needle and was attached to the machine by a small black wire, and the boxed machine had a screen of some sort on the side. “Mind if I prick your finger?”

“Sure!” Mabel held out her finger to him and Rick carefully held her wrist and pricked her finger, so small she hardly noticed it. “What for?”

“I need a blood sample to find your home dimension. Gotta send you to the right dimension.” Rick explained. “Fordsie, lemme get yours, too. How’d you two find each other, anyways?”

“I was in the Nightmare Realm when some idiot opened a portal and this little starshine fell into my arms.” Ford explained, stepping forward and giving Rick his finger.

“Okay, got it.” Rick said. “Well, there’s a possibility that you two come from different dimensions. Nothing too different about your homes, but there’s millions of dimensions. The probability that you two came from the same timeline and reality… there we go. It’s a match. That makes things easier.”

The small heart attack Ford was having went away. The idea of his starshine not being his was a nightmare. His life was complicated enough; he didn’t need his girl to not actually be his.

“Dimension 41’\. Huh, okay, gimme two seconds…” Rick pulled out his trusty portal gun and plugged it into the machine. A long list of dimensions popped up, and Ford prayed 41’\ would be on the list. “You two are lucky. I can go as far as 42’\, but the other 40s are out of range. Huh, i’ll have to work on that.”

“So,” Mabel grinned. “You can get us home?”

Rick smiled smugly and shrugged as he stood. “Yeah, sure.”

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cheered and hurled herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it! I’m gonna see Dipper again! I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

Ford smiled softly. He couldn’t believe it. It was all happening so fast and effortlessly. He was going to get Mabel home. They were both going home. Suddenly the idea of seeing Stanley again, meeting his grandnephew and all of Mabel’s friends and her pet pig sounded… a lot. He didn’t realize it, but he was becoming anxious and spacing out. But Mabel noticed, and she kissed his stubbly cheek and brought him back to reality.

Rick shot at the wall with his gun and an oozing green portal appeared. “There we go, 41’\. Wait, sh-oot, gimme a location.”

“618 Gopher Road.” Ford stated as he let go of Mabel. “Gravity Falls, Oregon. USA.”

“Got it.” Rick made the last portal disappear and shot a new one. “There. Now get-... Go on home.”

Mabel stepped up to Rick and said sincerely, “Mr. Sanchez, thank you for helping us.” And she hugged him around his tall skinny legs.

Rick pursed his lips awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to such positive energy and kindness. The old scientists looked at each other, Ford giving Rick a warning look, but something hidden in his face or eyes told the drunk that the nomad was actually grateful for his illegal device.

“Uh…” Rick settled on patting Mabel’s head and said, “Y-Y-You’re welcome.”

Mabel let go of Rick and held out a hand to Ford. “Ready?”

“Nope.” Ford took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s do this.”

And without another word, the Pines walked through the green portal.

#GF #gravity falls #rick and morty #fanfiction #crossover #drifting stars au #portal ford #there's not enough sweater-twins bonding in the world #and yes #i purposely used 41'\ instead of the canon 46'\#gift #clownwry

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the-tiger-with-a-computer · 3 years

Text

Twisted Wonderland NoSleep Au

Heartslabyul Part 3

Recap: After getting the chestnuts needed to make the apology tart the group now meets up with Trey in the kitchen.

Grim: We got the chestnuts. Now we can make a delicious tart.

Trey: We still have to peel them you know. It will be a challenge, but I know we can do it.

After peeling all the chestnuts Trey tricked basically everyone but Yuu and Cater into thinking that oyster sauce was needed for the tart. Then Trey released that he made to much marrow paste. So it was up to Yuu, Grim, and Deuce to go to the school store to buy the ingredients to make more whipped cream. The following happens:

Deuce: Wow, this place is amazing. Do you think this place actually sells the items we need?

Yuu: I believe so. I mean, back home it was pretty common for all types of stores to carry items like protection charms, bleach, scrubbers, and especially religious items.

Deuce: I can kinda understand the charms and religious items part. But why carry bleach and scrubbers?

Yuu: In case someone gets killed.

Deuce was about to ask Yuu to elaborate when Sam, the owner of the school store, came in to welcome Deuce and Yuu.

Sam: Hey, my lost little demons, how goes it? Welcome to Mr.S ‘s Mystery Shop. What can I do for you today? A charm for uncharted lands? Mummy of an ancient king? Or how about some cursed tarot cards?

Deuce: We’d like the things written here.

Grim: And some cans of tuna.

Yuu: We have enough tuna back at the dorm, we don’t need anymore anytime soon. Anyway, got any protection charms?

Deuce: No. No tuna or protection charms. Let’s just get the things we came here to get.

Sam: What what? Whipped cream, eggs… Oh! A nice sweet line-up. Ok! Coming right up.

Deuce: Wow, he really does have them.

Yuu: Well, the school store does need to have everything a student would need. And then some.

Sam: Sorry ‘bout the wait. It’s a bit heavy, you got it? If you order now you can get a 1/100 size floating platter to carry your purchases for 30% off.

Grim: What’s that? Sounds cool!

Deuce: We’re good. Thank you. It’s time to go.

Grim: But I wanna hang around more.

Yuu: If we hurry, Trey might let us eat something sweet.

Grim: Then what are we waiting for! Let’s get a move on!

Sam: Make sure to come by again!

*However as Yuu left with Deuce and Grim Sam couldn’t help but wonder about the new student. After what he has heard about their homeworld from Crowley sparked curiosity in both him and his friends. If what he thinks is true. Then Yuu might have come from a much darker world then his friends.*

On the way back to the kitchen Deuce offered to carry Yuu’s bag for them. When Yuu said that it was all right Deuce insisted saying that he was used to carrying heavy things as he would help his mom carry groceries. And since he was the only boy, he would be stuck doing anything requiring strength.

Deuce: Ah, I’ve just been talking about myself.

Yuu: Well I think that helping your family is a wonderful thing. Where I’m from, family is very important and to betray their trust would be to go against everything that both monsters and humans believe in. Helping your family, and anyone you see as family, is considered a very honorable thing to do. To do them harm is considered one of the worst things a human can do.

Deuce: Wow. You must miss them very much then. But, the thing is…. I always made my mom…

Before Deuce could finish his sentence he bumped into someone, breaking some eggs in the process.

Grim: Ahh! The eggs!

Deuce: $h*t, half of the eggs are destroyed! There’s egg all over the bag!

Delinquent A: Hey you! Watch where you’re… wait… You’re the fools who wreaked the egg in my carbonara earlier.

Delinquent B: It’s you guys again. You can’t catch a break!

Deuce: You were the ones who jumped out from behind the corner. At lunch, it wasn’t like you couldn’t eat the egg anymore but you still came to pick a fight… Just now, you destroyed half our eggs.

Grim: Yeah, that’s right.

Delinquent A: And? You sayin’ it’s our fault?

*Yuu, knowing that this will not end well, and with no way to defuse the situation stepped away from them. But at the same time they were ready to step in and help Deuce if it came to that.*

Deuce: Yes. Please pay for the eggs. And please apologize to the chickens too.

Delinquent B: Hmmm? You’re getting all worked up over eggs.

Delinquent A: They didn’t hit the ground right? Don’t sweat the small stuff.

Delinquent B: We saved you the trouble of breaking them.

Yuu could stand by no longer and decided to step in. After all, they had enough of these two boys nonsense.

Yuu: Well, you did damage what we payed for. I expect to at least be paid back in the amount the broken eggs cost. Think you can do that?

Delinquent A: Don’t think you can boss us around, just because we broke a few eggs!

Yuu: This is more than just about a few eggs. As I recall you two have been causing quite a bit of trouble as of late. Would be a shame if the principal knew of your antics.

*This was very much true as Yuu had used the ghost camera to take pictures of both the good and the bad. Let’s just say that Yuu had quite a bit of dirt on these two in particular*

Delinquent B: Is that a threat I hear?

Yuu: A warning actually.

Delinquent A: Looks like we need to teach these two a lesson.

Deuce: HEY! You don’t get to make decisions for us! These eggs… instead of becoming a chick they were gonna make us a delicious tart!! And you sure as he!! wouldn’t EVER hurt my friends! You get it! Huh!?

Delinquent B: What’s this guy’s problem all the sudden!?

Deuce: If you don’t wanna pay for the six eggs you broke… I’ll just punch you six times instead.

Delinquent A: Whaaaaa!?

Yuu: Time to fight!

Deuce: Grit your teeth a$$ho!e$!!

Let’s just say that the two never stood a chance. With Deuce’s experience in fights and Yuu’s self-defense training, they wiped the floor with the two delinquents.

Delinquent A: T-these two are straight-up mad! That wasn’t just six hits! Lair!

Yuu: OH! So you want some more huh!?

Delinquent B: Let’s get the he!! out of here! I’m sorry to all chickens!

Deuce: Apologize 100 times next you eat eggs! Dumb@$$e$!!

Grim: Wow!

Deuce: Huff, huff… Ugh!!

Grim: What just happened?

Deuce: …I screwed up… I vowed that I would definitely be a honor student this time…! In middle school, all I ever did was screw around… I constantly skipped school and spent my day getting into fights. I disrespected my teachers, hung around sketchy upperclassman, and bleached my hair to death. Even ran around all over the place riding a magical wheel. I was a terrible person that went as far as to use magic to lord over those that couldn’t.

Grim: Just now you went full on bad boy on those guys!

Deuce: Then one night... I saw my mom hiding away in tears as she called my grandma. "Was the I raised him wrong? Would it have been better if he had both parents?" She was wrong. Mom never did anything wrong. It was all me! So when the carriage from Night Raven College came to get me... My mom was so happy and I don't want to make her cry again. This time. I'm going to be an honor student my mom can be proud of. Then I do this... $hit!

Grim: But, y'know... Does being an honor student mean you have to grin and bare everything?

Deuce: Huh?

Grim: Those delinquents deserved another 10 punches if you ask me! You and Yuu fought them off before I could, though.

Yuu: I think that your mom would be proud that you are trying to be a better student. In my eyes, you are doing a lot better than back then.

Deuce: You guys...

Yuu: Even honor students get mad too.

Deuce: Really? ...Heh heh. May those baby chicks rest in peace.

Yuu: There is something that I need to tell you.

Deuce: What do you mean?

Yuu: The eggs that we bought will never turn into chicks as they were never fertilized.

Deuce: WHAT?!? You've gotta be kidding!?

Back at the kitchen, they gave the ingredients to Trey who then proceeded to finish making the tart. Which turned out to be amazing and looked really good.

Ace: Did something happen while you were out shopping?

Yuu: Chick shock...

Deuce: For 16 years... I believed that...

Ace: Making sweets takes so much time. I'm exhausted...

Cater: Good work! Is the tart finished? The decorations look super cute! It's totally magicam-gramble! Let me take a pic.

Ace: Ah! What'd you come here for?

Cater: I came by to check on my cute underclassmen, working so hard. Ahaha, you look beat!

Trey: Things you aren't used to tire you out quick. So when you're tired you need to eat something sweet. Go ahead and try the mont blanc we made.

Everyone: Yay!

Yuu: Are you sure?

Trey: It's fine.

Ace: Cater, you did come here just in time to eat the tart!

Yuu: Almost like you planned it.

Cater: Just a coincidence I promise.

Grim: Waaahaaa... It smells so deliciously sweet. The chestnuts on top are glossy while the cream underneath is so fluffy! Let's eat!

Yuu: Please don't eat it all. We still need a tart for the Unbirthday Party.

Grim: I know

Ace: Ah! Holy crap!

Cater: So good!

Deuce: Amazing... It's like what you get in stores.

Grim: It's not overly sweet but still has a richness to it! It's like a garden of chestnuts in my mouth!

Yuu: It's amazing! I definitely think that Riddle will love this.

Trey: Thank you.

Cater: Oh yeah. Hey Trey, do the thing.

Trey: The thing? ...Oh, that. So what are your favorite foods?

Ace: Mine's cherry pie and hamburgers.

Grim: My number one is canned tuna. And cheese omurice, and grilled meat, and pudding!

Deuce: If I have to pick, omurice, I guess.

Yuu: Mine would have to be breaded shrimp.

Cater: And mine is grilled lamb with diablo sauce.

Trey: Alright here we go, ... Doodle Suit!

There was a sound, a flash, and then nothing.

Deuce: ...? This is?

Trey: Now take another bite of the mont blanc.

Ace: Hm? Hmmmmm? This is... mont blanc but it tastes like cherry pie!

Grim: It tastes like canned tuna! *Chomp chomp* Ohh, now it's cheese omurice! And grilled chicken, *munch munch*, and pudding!

Yuu: Wow! It really does taste like breaded shrimp!

Cater: Isn't it fun? If you did this while having tea with a girl, they'd be super impressed!

Deuce: It's amazing. Is changing the flavor of food your unique magic, Trey?

Trey: Actually, it's magic that "overwrites a component". So not just taste, but I can also overwrite the color or scent or really anything. The overwrite only lasts a short time so that's why it's like a doodle or scribble. That's why I've named this magic "doodle" since it's not permanent.

Grim: With your "Doodle Suit" my dream of all you can eat canned tuna isn't just a dream. It's so much better than the magic Riddle uses to bully people.

Trey: No... My magic is nothing more than child's play when compared to Riddle's He's on a different level. ...It's getting late. Let's go home and give Riddle the tart tomorrow. Tomorrow is the Unbirthday Party. Don't be late.

Yuu: Hang on. Do you have a book of the rules?

Trey: Yeah, why?

Yuu: I want to make sure that there is nothing against a mont blanc at an Unbirthday Party.

Cater: Good thinking Yuu.

Ace: So, did you find anything Yuu?

Yuu: Here we are. Rule Number 562: Refrain from bringing marron tarts for the Unbirthday Party."

Trey: Wow, I almost missed that one. Good thing Yuu double-checked the rules.

Yuu: It's kinda a talent of mine. Knowing the rules and when a rule applies to a situation or not. It's weird, I know.

Cater: Far from it. If you hadn't checked then Riddle would have most likely been furious.

Ace: Yuu, I owe you one.

Yuu: Then I think that we should keep the tart in the kitchen, explain ourselves to Riddle and hope that he takes the collar off of Ace.

Ace: One more thing. Yuu, can you let me sleep over again? My cruel upperclassmen aren't going to let me in the dorm!

Cater: Wow. So prickly!

Deuce: Ace, don't force Yuu to spoil you too much.

Grim: Yeah! You gotta pay to stay! 10 cans of tuna!

Ace: What! Are you telling me to sleep outside?

Yuu: No, no. Ace, you can stay but now you owe me two favors.

Ace: Fine by me! Thank Yuu!

Trey: Deuce, why don't you stay in their dorm to keep an eye on Ace? As the vice dorm leader, I give you permission.

Cater: Trey, aren't you spoiling the newbies. I'm jelly. Yuu, can I go too?

Yuu: I don't think so. The dorm needs some intense TLC and I'm pretty sure that you're needed in the dorm.

Cater: Tch. Bringin' me down.

Trey: Yuu, I'm sorry about forcing those two on you. We're counting on you tomorrow.

Yuu: It's fine and I will be sure that they are on their best behavior tomorrow.

Ace: Tomorrow is the Unbirthday Party. This damn collar is definitely coming off! Just you watch, Riddle.

As Yuu, Ace, Grim, and Deuce made their way to the dorm Yuu coudn't help but feel as if something was very wrong in the dorm. And that Riddle was in great danger, but from what?

That is where I will end this chapter and the next will continue to the morning of the Unbirthday Party. Until then, hope everyone is doing ok.

#twisted wonderland #twst NoSleep Yuu #twst NoSleep Au #twst grim #twst trey #twst deuce #twst sam #twst cater

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badboyfriends · 4 years

Text

Grian? Hi Will, Hi Clay.

Grian stood there, What do I DO! Panic raced through his mind, there he was, his twin brother, Wilbur, just standing there, How could he tell him. Its wasnt like he could just walk up and say Hey! Wilbur, I know it’s been over 6 years since you’ve seen me but i just wanted to say, Im alive! Yay.. god he couldn’t do that, and on top of that, he looked so happy with his team, well more or less happy. His team, the Pink Pigglets, Were talking and joking, even a kid from Aqua Horses was talking with them.

Grian also saw Clay, well, he went by Dream now. He remebered when Clay was born. They were all so young. I wonder if Will knows Dream is our little bro, if he does, I’m Glad they have each other.

“Grian! Come on! Games about to Start! He turned to look at Pearl. She was one of the few people to know his Curse. How hes forever stuck in time. The only way to break the curse is to find a rare deleted item, but as he just said, it was deleted. Ignoring his he sighed and turned away from his brothers, and walked to his team.

On the other side Dream and Wilbur heard the yell for Grian. "That, couldn’t have been our Grian… Right?” Dream asked his older brother.

“No, our Grian died, remeber. He died in the Japan Massacer.”

“Oh, Yeah, I forget sometimes.” Dream looked down, then towards the area and sees a blond beauty, his hair, just like his own, but face looked just like how Will used to look like. “But he looks just like us Will.”

Wilbur turned to see, and he was right. The man was a spitting image of them. Will looked at Dream and nodded. They both took off tpo talk to the man.

“Grian, Is that You?”

“Hi Will, Hi Clay, How are you?”

HOW DID Y’ALL WRITE SO MUCH STUFF ALREADY FOR THIS AU HAUFILJASUKJDKUASND,SAKJDNK ASN GRRRRRRR I OVE OH GOD

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HURTS HURTS HURTS #submissions #twins au #brothers au #td;lr grian and wilbur has similar skins so now they're twins and grian's immortal for canonical reasons #also dream looks like grian in fanart only taller and grian so #wilbur soot #wilbur soot au #grian #grian au #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken au #mcyt #mcyt au #submission

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imalwaysintune · 4 years

Text

Barbershop Au

This is purely for my own indulgence, as I thought of this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head. I woke up at 5:30 am this morning in a cold sweat and intensely wanted to write about these four funky little men in a barbershop group. No I don’t know why.

Also, I got my new laptop today (yay!) and this is the first thing I’m writing on it, so it’s basically officially cursed now. I also blame @ggracee for fueling this fire.

Enjoy! Stuff under cut!

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

In the Archives:

Martin had been quietly working on his notes when he suddenly felt the air behind him grow colder. His stomach dropped and he turned his chair around, just as he saw the air shift and Peter fade into view. It was terrifying the first time he’d seen it, had seen the way the space shifted and how it looked like the universe was going to collapse into a black hole.

But it hadn’t, and Martin had gotten used to Peter’s comings and goings. Peter himself, on the other hand, was another story. He was cold and heartless, and he had ripped Martin from all his friends and would chastise him every time he even so much as look at another member of the archival staff.

Martin sighed as he leaned his head on his hand, and waited expectantly for Peter to start talking. It was just better this way.

“Hey, Martin. I see you’re busy here doing... things. Um, you know, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor,” Peter seemed almost nervous, to Martin’s surprise. He didn’t normally look Martin in the eye out of habit, but this seemed intentional.

“As if I have a choice?” Martin sounds bitter, probably more bitter than he meant. He had just been having a rough day, rougher than usual. He wanted nothing more than to talk to Jon, but Peter made that virtually impossible.

“Oh come on Martin, I deserve more credit than that,” Peter looked at Martin directly then, and he looked nervous. It would’ve taken Martin aback if he cared enough. He just rolled his eyes and made a lazy gesture with his hand that roughly meant “go on”.

It wasn’t until that moment that he realized Peter’s hands were held behind his back, and he appeared to be holding something. When he brought his hands forward, they were holding something that looked like a piece of clothing. It was covered with red and white pinstripes, and Martin just stared at with mild surprise.

“So, I know we aren’t really friends. At least, you don’t consider me a friend. But there was no one else we could ask. We lost out last tenor to the Hunt and Elias doesn’t want to switch just to spite me now that I forced him to sing lead, so... you’re basically our only hope,” Peter was almost stumbling over his words, and in that moment he seemed more human to Martin than he had ever seen the man.

“Okay,” Martin said, remembering how much fun the show choir had been when he was in high school. That felt like so long ago now.

“Okay? Just.. okay? Like that? No fighting? You don’t even want me to beg?” The nerves that had fueled Peter just a second ago were replaced with bewilderment.

“I mean, you can if you want. But, I have nothing better to do, and frankly, the prospect of seeing Elias in that ridiculous suit you’re holding is just too good to pass up,” Martin said as he sat upright in his chair. He grabbed the suit from Peter’s hands and left the room, going to one of the many bathrooms that were littered around the institute.

He didn’t know what he expected of the suit, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt the fabric grow and shrink to fit Martin’s form. He absentmindedly wondered what kinda freaky fear magic was used to make the suit fit so well as he examined himself in the mirror.

For how ridiculous he thought the fabric design had looked before, he quite liked how it flattered him. It made his ginger hair pop, and his body looked good. He’d never worn a suit that was properly tailored to him, so it was a nice change.

He walked out of the bathroom and back into the room where he knew Peter would be waiting. His eyes lit up as they landed on Martin, standing up from where he had sat down and walking over to the shorter man.

He beamed like a proud dad as he pulled out two more items from seemingly nowhere. He held out an iconic boater hat in one hand, and a bright red and white cane that matched the pattern of the suit.

Martin had the urge to laugh, something he hadn’t felt in awhile, so he let the laughter flow as he grabbed the items from Peter. It almost felt surreal, but it would seem that the being who took away all of Martin’s happiness would also be the one to provide it

Skip forward a few weeks to Elias’s office:

Martin stood outside of Elias’ office, debating whether or not he should follow through with his plan. However, as he figured Elias would already know he was there, he opened the door anyways.

Elias’ was staring up at him from the huge desk in the middle of the room, and Martin swallowed hard.

“Can I help you, Martin?” Elias drawled, looking up at Martin expectantly.

Martin crossed the room towards Elias, holding a stack of papers that looked like they were dangerously close to spilling everywhere. When he got to the desk, he dropped all the papers on the desk and started rifling through them, looking for a specific paper.

When he finally found it, he picked it up and walked around the desk, coming to settle next to Elias. He placed the paper down and pointed to a specific area on the page.

“I was trying to practice my part of ‘Coney Island Baby’, but I can’t get this one phrase here on page 7. I was wondering if you would work with me on it so that I have something to compare my part against and maybe it can help me-” Martin was abruptly cut off by the dreaded feeling he got when Peter was about to show up.

Sure enough, the space in front of them started to shift and soon Peter was just... there. Martin mentally chastised himself for being so careless. Of course Peter wouldn’t want him talking to anyone outside the time he allowed, even if it was to get help.

“Now, Martin, you surely know why I’m here. I have to say I’m majorly disappointed in you,” Peter didn’t sound disappointed. He sounded like he always did. His inflection rarely changed but it didn’t stop the words from stinging.

“Look, I’m sorry Peter, but I was just asking for Elias’ help on a part. If you don’t let me ask him for help when you’re not around, how am I supposed to get better?” Martin regretted challenging Peter as soon as the last word left his house.

Peter didn’t look angry. Far from it in fact. He looked like he’d been struck by genius. Martin’s stomach dropped when Peter finally revealed his brilliant idea.

“Here’s an idea. You can sit in the Lonely until all your sheet music is memorized! You need to learn to be part independent, Martin. You’re in the big leagues now.

Before he knew it, Martin felt the air around him grow thick as him and his papers were thrust into the dimension. Right before he lost complete contact though, he managed to thrust out “Can I at least have a pitch-pipe-” before disappearing into the Lonely.

It was Elias who broke the silence, sighing heavily. “You know, Peter, just because I offered you Martin to use for your secret little experiment doesn’t you can take him away from his work. He was doing important filing-” And suddenly with another ‘whoosh’ of Peter’s hand, Elias was destined to join Martin in the Lonely.

He could almost imagine the fit Elias was having, but he told himself that it was all for the best. This was the most productive they were going to be until Simon showed up.

Ah Simon Fairchild, the wild-child of the group. He was unpredictable, rarely showed up rehearsals and yet always seemed to know the sheet music intimately. It was as frustrating as it was liberating, to know that at least someone was serious about the group.

Oh well. At least this fun little experiment will test if his boys are up to the test.

A non-disclosed theater:

A few weeks after the “Lonely” incident, Peter, Elias, and Martin all gathered at the theater Peter had rented out for their rehearsals. Martin thought it was a bit much, but Peter thought the huge auditorium was perfect. Martin couldn’t even fathom how much something like this cost.

Suddenly, Martin had the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. He looked over towards Peter, who was smiling giddily.

To Elias’ left, a being popped into view. He was wearing a dark green suede suit, brown and tan saddle shoes, and a wide brimmed hat that outlined his face like a halo.

Martin had never seen this person before, but Peter was looking at the figure in elation, walking over to him and enveloping the figure in a hug.

When Martin looked towards Elias for any sort of assistance, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Martin, this is Simon Fairchild. He’s our Baritone. Even though he rarely shows up to rehearsal, I have to admit, he’s a borderline musical prodigy,” Elias explained to Martin.

Peter and Simon seemed to be in deep conversation, and Martin strained his ears to hear what they were saying.

“-but it seems entirely unfair that you would send them into the Lonely without me. I could’ve helped them! They could’ve been out in half the time. Plus, I’ve never actually been inside The Lonely so it truly would’ve been quite an enlightening experience-” At this, Martin couldn’t stand to listen to Simon again. Talkative, that one.

He turned towards Elias and opened the sheet music for the latest song Peter had assigned to them and got to work. If Simon and Peter wanted to goof off, that was on them. At least he and Elias would be productive.

“One, two, a one two three four-” Martin began, and him and Elias erupted into wonky two part harmony. It wasn’t the most beautiful thing, but it was the most alive Martin had felt in months.

- THE END!

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

This one is so cursed I’m sorry-

I just really wanted to write about these stupid cursed men if they joined force and made a barbershop group. I don’t have everything I wanted to write about in here, so maybe there will be a part 2 if it seems like y’all want it. Don’t be afraid to hit up my ask box and my ao3!

Words: 1708

#the magnus archives #tma #my work #elias bouchard #martin blackwood #simon fairchild #peter lukas #Barbershop AU #Barbershop #pls dont ask me why i had inspiration to write this #id love to hear yalls feedback lmao #Barbershop quartet

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Convince Me To Go {2}

AU Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Slow Burn

Words: 2.3k

Summary: When we run away, we’re usually running from something. This time you may have run toward it instead.

Note: Welp. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I hope you enjoy this.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“So, what’ll it be?” The bartender asked just as you and your knight in shining armor got situated.

“Lemon water and a napkin if you have, please.”

“Lemon water?”

“Yeah, lemon is a good antiseptic, you know for his—” You motioned to his face. The woman nodded and wrote it down.

“And to drink? This ain’t urgent care.”

“Three rounds of Gin for me, and for the lady?”

He looked at you with both eyebrows raised.

“Coconut rum please.”

“Three rounds of coconut rum. All right.”

The bartender nodded and walked away to gather your order.

“I did not peg you as a rum woman.”

“No? white wine, or chardonnay maybe?” He smiled and shook his head.

“As I said, you know nothing about me.”

“All right let’s start with your name. What’s your name?”

You thought about it. If he knew your name, he could easily search you across social media. You didn’t want that happening. “No names.”

His eyebrows shot up again. “No names. Huh, kinky.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“So, what do I call you?”

You shrugged. “You pick.”

He gave an exaggerated facial expression that said he was thinking extra hard. He looked goofy, but through the goofiness, he was still cute.

“You know what, I think I’ll stick with fancy.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Not so fancy anymore, my shoes are ruined, stockings ripped, I’m a mess.”

“Clothes don’t make the woman fancy. The woman makes the woman.”

You leaned closer to him and looked into his eyes. “Are you concussed?”

He snorted and laughed heartily and slapped his hand across his chest. He threw his head back and gave you a good view of his perfect teeth. You couldn’t help but smile a little too. The bartender returned with a tray full of drinks and the lemon water.

“Also found a first aid kit behind the bar.”

“Thank you.”

She walked off again and you opened the kit and surveilled the items inside. You took out a Band-Aid, some ointment, everything else was absent. When you looked back to him his eyes were glued to you.

“What?”

“Nothing. All right fancy nurse, do your worst.”

You smiled and scooted closer to him as he leaned over the table. You dipped the napkin into the lemon water and dabbed his eyebrow. He barely flinched as you wiped the superficial wound.

“Good news, it doesn’t look deep enough that you’ll need stitches,” you announced.

“Yay.”

“No stitches mean barely a scar which means your pretty face will remain intact.”

“You think I have a pretty face?” Your eyes met as your hands stilled.

“uh—well, um, I didn’t mean it literal. It’s a thing you say.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that thing unless it was meant that way,” he contested.

“Well, now you have.”

You dropped your hands and examined the wound on his cheekbone then proceeded to clean it as well. This you did in silence. After a few moments, you decided the band-aid would be better for his cheekbone rather than his eyebrow due to the hair.

“All right, all done. You may have to clean that eyebrow once more, but it’ll be fine.”

“What no kiss for the boo-boo?”

You smirked and gave him a small eye roll. “You’ll live.”

He smiled and nodded his head. “Thank you.” You nodded as you wiped your hands.

“It’s the least I could do. I should be thanking you.”

“Let’s call it even. A toast?” he held up one of his glasses of Gin. You mirrored him with your rum.

“To muggers, brawls in the snow and drinks with beautiful women.” You crinkled your eyebrow.

“That is a horrible toast.”

He shrugged and knocked the drink back. You took your time with a sip.

“So, what’s your story Fancy?”

“Fancy, so that’s the name you’re sticking with?”

He nodded. “Maybe you should pick yours.”

“Anything I want?”

“Anything you want,” he repeated.

You rubbed your chin and thought about it purposefully.

“Hmm, decisions, decisions.”

“Maybe I can give you a few suggestions. What about valiant, you know like Prince Valiant who charged into a sword battle with six captors all for his fair maiden.”

“Nope.”

“All right, what about Phillip, like Prince Phillip who won Aurora’s heart and helped her save the kingdom.”

“Uh—hard pass.”

“Well, then it has to be Triton, like King Triton the king of the seas, he who has the power to control it?”

“I thought that was Poseidon.”

“No one cares about Poseidon, it’s King Triton.”

“Again, nah. I got it. Ready?”

“Let’s hear what’s better than all my fantastic suggestions.

You smiled so ready to dash all his hopes. “Puppy.”

Any humor on his face immediately fell.

“Puppy? As in an animal?”

“Yes, why not. Puppies are energetic, humorous, defensive, always there to help, they pop up out of nowhere are ready for treats.

“How is that me?”

“You’re clearly energetic, it’s after two in the morning and you’re awake, you seem to think you’re funny with how you always try to read me, you just showed your defensiveness by fighting off my mugger, which also ticks off there to help,” you explained.

“What about ready for a treat and pops up from nowhere?”

“Dude you came out of nowhere just now, and as soon as the task was finished your first suggestion was me buying you a drink, hence a treat. I think it sums you up quite well.”

He didn’t look amused which made you even more amused.

“So, you skip over all the princes to puppy?”

“I mean I can add prince in there, prince puppy. Has a nice ring to it.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Ya know what, whatever you want fancy.”

“Puppies are always eager to please too.”

He nodded and took another of his drinks and downed it. you smiled to yourself as you drank your own drink.

“So we’ve established you’re not from Boston, you’re from New York. What’re you doing in Boston?”

You didn’t answer right away, you continued to sip your drink not sure you wanted to open this can.

“Sightseeing.”

“In Boston? What sights exactly?”

“Oh you know, Fenway Park.”

“Uh-huh, what else?”

“You know the home of coffee; you know bean town.”

“You know nothing about Boston huh?”

“Nope.”

He laughed again and shook his head.

“No one comes to Boston dressed like that to sightsee. Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. I’m not trying to get your life story. Just making conversation.”

“Are you from here?”

“Born and raised. I left for a few years but I’m back now.”

“Where did you go off to?”

“New York.” He knocked back the third glass and stood. “See, Boston always welcomes the runaways.” He walked away to the bar and you looked after him.

Maybe he was a semi-good reader of people. Your phone rang again, and you sighed. When you took it out this time the name on the screen was your father. No doubt your mother had gotten him into things. Your father could ride the slippery slope between good cop and coerced bad cop very well. You didn’t know if he were calling as that genuinely good cop or the coerced bad cop. You didn’t want to chance it, you tapped dismiss.

“Either that is your actual daddy or you’re one of those women who call their paramours daddy.”

He slipped back into his seat with hands filled with six new glasses. You dropped your phone back into your purse and took your last drink and knocked it back. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smiled and shrugged.

“Every woman is a mystery until you unravel the thread.”

“Why did you leave New York?”

“When you tell me why you did, I’ll tell you why I did.”

The two of you stared each other down. Neither of you wanted to back out.

“What do you do in New York?”

“I work in real estate.”

He nodded again. “Ah, a baby tycoon living the real life of Monopoly.”

You scoffed. If he only knew how right he was.

“Do you like real estate?”

“It’s all right. It’s what I’m good at I guess.”

“I’m sure you’re good at plenty of things,” he theorized.

“Not plenty. I know I do a few things really well. I can negotiate a contract well, I have a good eye for understanding what is trending and what will trend, and I am good at inciting a bidding war to puff a final offer. I’m also good at being the perfect daughter. That I excel at with flying colors.” You knocked back one of the glasses he’d placed on the table and grimaced when you tasted it was Gin.

“Uuugh, that’s disgusting.”

“You get used to it.” He drank from one of the glasses and bobbed his head from side to side.

“That’s fruity and very sweet. I see why you like it.”

You drank another in silence, you could feel his eyes on you.

“That can’t be the only thing you’re good at. What about hobbies, things you do for fun outside of closing deals and starting wars.”

You smiled and shrugged. You really didn’t have time to do many things that were fun. You always had responsibilities. Either you had to be here or there for the image of the family or you were on someone’s arm for the benefit of another. It was exhausting.

“Come on. Cook?”

“I’m a horrible cook. I burned boiled eggs once.”

“That is very sad. Moving on, drawing?”

“Do stick figures count?”

“Appalling. Maybe athletic stuff, running, bench pressing, squats?”

“I see we’re lowering the bar now. Nope, never been into the whole athletic thing. I can run pretty far in heels though. Oh, I have also been given first prize in the Westchester Beauty Pageant four years in a row.”

“Well, all right that’s something. You must have been good at it four years is impressive.”

You smiled and he hit your glass before he guzzled it empty. You did the same and knocked back another.

“If you mix it, it’s not half bad.”

“What else are you good at?”

“Nothing. My mother said she was happy I was born pretty because then I wouldn’t have to be good at anything to make it far in life. She said my beauty was all I needed to master. So I mastered it. My body is—an Egyptian temple of paradise, my face without a scar. My mother is a very vain woman.”

He didn’t know what to say. That seemed like something deeply personal but also sad. You were right, you were beautiful. He’d noticed you within seconds of you walking into the bar. It was hard not to. He also sensed there was a lot more to you than just your looks, there had to be.

“What about you? What are you good at?”

“Everything. I’m a skilled conversationalist, Fantastic son, brother, and uncle, I volunteer, donate and pay my taxes and I am an unbelievable lover. So there check, check, check.”

“Oh wow. All of that?”

He nodded and leaned back. “What can I say?”

“And an unbelievable lover? Wow, what makes you so unbelievable?”

“Ah, I can’t tell my secrets. Plus, it’s not something I can tell, these skills have to be shown.”

Again, your eyes met and remained on each other. A phone rang and he sighed out before he dug in his pocket and looked at his screen. He looked stressed for a few moments before he tapped a button and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Sorry about that.”

“A better way to avoid them is to turn it off completely. They’ll get the message loud and clear.”

He smiled and nodded, hearing his own words come back to him.

“You know what. You’re right.” He took back out his phone and turned it off showing you the proof of it powering down. “Your turn.”

You scoffed but didn’t move. You didn’t want to talk to anyone, but you didn’t know if you wanted to be unreachable. Plus, you didn’t know this man, he could kidnap you.

“I won’t kidnap you.”

You smirked and shook your head and dug into your purse.

“This is insane.”

“Let’s be insane together.”

You pressed the power off button, and he smiled as he saw it power down. You dropped it back into your purse and smiled.

“Plus, we both know you weren’t going to answer any of those calls anyway. We can both worry about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we have—” He looked at his watch and bobbed his head from side to side. “Five and a half, six hours until a new day begins, I am free for the night, you’re in town with nowhere to go. Whattaya say?”

“What do I say to what?”

“Wanna spend the night with me in a completely nonpredator, non-sleazy way?”

You studied him. He was serious about this.

“We’re complete strangers. That’s nuts.”

“No more nuts than first dates where you do the exact same thing. Oftentimes while you’re wishing you were somewhere else. At least we both know we have nowhere else to be and are doing it willingly.”

“So this is a first date now?”

“I’m turning over a new leaf and I’m not into labels. I call it two like-minded adults enjoying each other’s company. I can guarantee that by the time we say goodbye you’ll have found something you’re good at.”

“That’s a hefty promise there prince puppy.”

“It is one I am completely comfortable making, fancy.”

You smiled and looked down at your left hand and leaned back in your chair.

“Come on, don’t make this a big deal. It’s not.”

“Fine.”

He smiled again and it made you smile along with him. It was a beautiful smile, one you liked seeing. He then finished the remaining two drinks on the table and stood.

“Our adventure awaits.” He dropped a hundred-dollar bill onto the table and held out his arm for you. You locked yours with his and the two of you walked out into the snowy cold night.

~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~

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#convince me to go fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

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arissayoo · 5 years

Text

Neverland -> Ateez AU

Chapter 6

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, cursing, dark/horror themes, fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7K

A/N: Finally updated after three long weeks! This is a longer chapter than the others (yay) and honestly, I had to stop myself from continuing on. As always comments/feedback is appreciated :)

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

The rest of the boys ran out of my room as soon as we heard the howl. There, in the living room, was a pack of Khanins which both Mingi and Jongho were trying to fight off.

“Mingi behind you!” Jongho’s yell sounded above all the commotion.

My blood ran cold at the sight of the monsters, more sweat building on my forehead. “Y/N stay here! Your body isn’t strong enough right now.” Seonghwa instructed me, following the rest down to the fight.

My body became paralyzed with fear, flashbacks of my last encounter with a Khanin rushing through my mind. Even if I wasn’t petrified, Seonghwa was right, my body had been through hell in the last couple days. It was hard enough to stand upright and not draw attention to myself. I felt useless as I watched the fight taking place in front of me. The boys were evenly matched with the monsters, each boy taking on a beast more than twice their size. The smell of fresh blood filled the air, accompanied by the loud pained groans.

“Agh!” Jongho fell to the ground, the Khanin he had been fighting pouncing on his chest. I watched in horror, my body reacting without me thinking as I moved towards the stairs. The boys all drew attention to the youngest, sure to keep their guard up with their attackers.

Yeosang quickly spun around, sending three arrows straight at the beast, piercing its heart. It fell to the floor, Jongho rolling to avoid being squished under it. “Fuck!” Jongho groaned, sucking in a breath.

“He needs to get out of here. They smell the blood.” Seonghwa shouted, trying to keep the monsters’ attention away from Jongho. Everyone was unaware of me as I quickly snuck towards the battlefield. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to muster up all of the adrenaline in my body, before running towards Jongho’s body. He was lying on the floor, the fabric of his pants torn open to reveal a large bite mark. I held in my shock, instead choosing to focus on getting him away from here.

“Ok let’s get you up.” I tried to keep calm, struggling to pull Jongho up.

“Y-you’re injured.” He tried to scold me, the words coming out in short pants.

“Yeah, you are too. This is the least I could do since I’m not strong enough to fight with the rest of you.” I grit my teeth, supporting him as I tried to get to a safe area. I couldn’t go up the stairs, not supporting both our weight anyhow. I figured our best bet was in one of the boys’ rooms downstairs. At least that way there would be a door between us and the Khanins.

I limped towards a door as quickly as I could, trying to put as much distance between us and the ongoing fight. Once safely inside, I sat Jongho down on the bed, closing the door and looking around for items that I could push in front of it to block anything from coming in.

Jongho let out another pained groan, his hands trying to pry the fabric of his pants away from the wounds.

“Stop, you'll make it worse.” I ran over, pushing his hands away to fully inspect his leg.

There was blood oozing from the wound, each of the Khanin’s sharp teeth leaving a deep puncture wound. The area surrounding the bite was swollen, the skin turned a greenish-purple. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in, turning to grab something to cut away at the remaining fabric. I wasn’t familiar with the room, but based on the strew of arrowheads on the dresser I assumed it belonged to Yeosang. I found a switchblade in the middle of the pile, bringing it over to Jongho, who was sweating profusely.

“Just breathe and try not to pass out on me okay?” I searched his glazed eyes, praying none of the other boys got injured and won the fight soon. I began to carefully cut his pant leg, exposing more of the bruised skin. “Oh my,” I whispered, unsure of how to treat his injury.

There now was a constant spew of blood from the puncture wounds, the red liquid dripping down the side of his leg. Grabbing the sheet from the bed, I bundled half of it to press down on the wound.

“Ah! Goddamn!” Jongho groaned, trying to push through the pain. “I hate those damn dogs.”

I pressed my lips together, the strong smell of blood making me lightheaded. I couldn't give in to the screaming pain of my body, not now. I had to push through this and hope that the fight would soon end and the boys would come through that door.

I needed the boys to come through that door.

Another ear-splitting cry sounded from the living room, heavy footsteps rushing towards the door. Loud scratching came from the other side of it, followed by a loud slam from the Khanin throwing its body against the wood.

“Ok, ok just breathe Y/N,” I tried to console myself. If they got in, we were as good as dead. There were no windows in the room, trapping us in with only the door to separate the monster from us. The door started shaking, the commotion from outside growing.

“We’re going to have to fight it.” I turned to Jongho, seeing his closed eyes and ashen face. “Jongho!”

I shook his body, trying to get a response from him. The Khanin continued to pound against the door outside, it’s weight causing the door to start to splinter. I knew I couldn’t fight off the monster by myself, but still grabbed the weapons anyway. I stood in front of the door, my only plan was to protect Jongho even if it meant my death.

The pounding ceased, along with all the other commotion from the living room. The silence seemed too good to be true. I couldn’t assume that the Khanins were all dead yet, but I definitely hoped it didn’t mean the boys had lost the fight.

“Y/N! Open up, it’s clear.” Hongjoong’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. I felt a rush of relief, pushing the small dresser out of the way and opening the door.

“Seonghwa, Jongho’s hurt pretty bad.” I alerted the leader first off, saving any other concern for later. “He passed out a couple minutes ago.”

“Bring him to my room, I’ll start getting the supplies ready.” His face, which was covered in blood and sweat, remained stoic, hiding any emotions he felt. Mingi and Yunho went to carry Jongho, meanwhile, the other guys were staring at me.

“What?” I asked, seeing them all avert their gaze, except Hongjoong.

“Thanks for getting Jongho out of there. If you hadn’t reacted that quick who knows what would have happened to him.” Hongjoong nodded in my direction.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing what was right. I’m sorry that I couldn’t fight with you guys.” I saw how tired they all looked, noting a few cuts running down their arms. “You guys should go get treated too.”

“Nah, we’ll be good. Seonghwa makes us take pills every morning that have medicine counteract the Khanin poison. It’s basically running through our systems now.” Wooyoung brushed my words off, ignoring the countless cuts on his body.

“What’s really important is how they were even able to get in the Den, much less find us,” Yeosang spoke up, his eyes drawn to his switchblade and collection of arrowheads in my fists. I looked down, realizing I was still holding the weapons before placing them back in the pile on the dresser.

“What do you mean?”

“Mingi and Wooyoung put special protection on the cave. It protects us from the creatures outside and hides our location from everyone and everything. You can’t find the den unless you know where it is.” San explained, his voice sounding less annoying than usual.

“I don’t know how it broke, but it’s probably not a good idea for us to stay here. If the Khanins were able to get in we don’t know what else will try to.” Hongjoong beckoned for us to follow to Seonghwa’s room, knocking lightly before opening the door.

Seonghwa was putting away the various medications, Mingi, and Yunho sitting in the corner, a mixture of exhaustion and relief present on their faces. Jongho’s body was lying on Seonghwa’s bed, the color returned to his face. I could feel my own relief wash over me, thankful that everything was over, for now at least.

“Here, you should take this. It’ll help your body heal faster.” Seonghwa handed me a cup containing a clear liquid. I looked at it apprehensively, memories from the last liquid he handed me making my stomach uneasy. “I promise it won't make you throw up again.”

I took a deep breath before gulping down the liquid, a warm feeling flooding my stomach.

“So in regards to how the Khanins got in,” Hongjoong looked around at the others.

“The spell broke,” Mingi spoke up, standing up and facing me “because of her.”

My eyes widened and my body froze for another time today. Once again, I was the cause of their problems, this time resulting in Jongho getting hurt.

“Well not her exactly, but when she came back to the Den after training she was under the siren’s control. The magic used was able to get in, breaking through the encoding that was in place.” Yunho quickly elaborated, trying to erase my feelings of dread.

“Now we know what they meant by she’ll be our biggest weakness,” San muttered, his ominous words loud enough for me to hear.

“Can you fix it Mingi?” Hongjoong ignored San, concerned for our future living situation.

“Yeah, but it won't be done for at least a couple of days.”

A couple days. Even though they were acting as if this wasn’t a big deal my mind was telling me otherwise.

“Well, we can't stay here tonight. I won’t be able to use my powers to track any intruders.” Yeosang voiced the thought everyone was thinking.

“Jongho should wake up soon. We can head out then. For now, everyone go pack. Be sure to bring more than enough supplies and weapons. We will be traveling at night and won't know what we will be facing.” Seonghwa instructed, the boys retreating to their rooms. He looked at my still figure, coming closer to me. “Y/N, it’s not your fault.”

“I caused this.” I looked up at him, my face clearly expressing my inner distress. “I’m the reason we have to leave and he got hurt.”

“Listen to me, don’t let this get to you. We have all been in situations like this before. You were being mind-controlled and couldn't have known this would happen. This could have happened to any of us.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, slowly calming my anxiety.

“Ugh.” Jongho groaned, slowly waking up and reaching to clutch his leg. Both Seoghwa and my gaze switched to him, rushing over to his side.

“Jongho, how are you feeling?” I asked, my worry for the boy replacing all other emotions.

“Pretty crappy, but hey I’m alive.” He managed to send a smile my way, causing me to return one back.

“We have to leave the Den for a couple of days. I’m sure you already guessed, but the protection spell broke and the Khanins aren’t going to be the only ones to come after us. I’ll grab your stuff and Y/N, you should go pack before everyone else gets here.”

I nodded, heading to my room before meeting the rest of the boys down in the living room shortly after. There was not much to pack, just the clothes I had shown up in and some that I had been borrowing from Hongjoong. I didn’t have nearly as much as the others, their bags practically overflowing with weapons.

We headed out, Yeosang and San taking lead while the rest of us followed with our flashlights. I looked back, noting that although I hadn’t been on Neverland that long, the Den had become my haven. There was a fair share of bad moments, but I felt safer there than anywhere else. And now it was gone, invaded by the monsters outside. I sighed, turning around to continue following the boys silently.

My foot caught on a branch, causing me to trip and drop my flashlight. The others looked back to see that I was alright, with me bending down to pick my flashlight up. I dusted it off, looking up to see the light pointed at a vague figure in the distance. I squinted my eyes to try and see better, the figure almost blending in with the night. There was fog surrounding the figure, who seemed to be walking towards the direction of the Den. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, the figure disappearing once I looked back.

I looked around, quickly catching up with the Lost Boys. It was probably nothing, I tried to convince myself. If anything it was heading in the direction opposite to us.

“Okay, there seems to be a small cavern up ahead.” Hongjoong read off from the map. We walked further, reaching the cave and placing our things down.

The boy started setting up our camp while Mingi and Wooyoung went in to check if there was anything inside. Hongjoong helped set Jongho a place to rest inside the cave, directing the rest of us to prepare a fire for dinner. I helped Yeosang gather wood, glad to have found a place to rest for a little. We started the fire, receiving news that Seonghwa and San were heading back with food.

“Well,” Yeosang sat next to me, helping to tend to the fire, “I've always wanted to go camping.” I stared at him, both of us breaking out into an exhausted chuckle.

“Yeah, if only we had some marshmallows,” I responded to his joke, watching the other boys walking over to join us. “This fire would be perfect for roasting them.”

“Speaking of fires, do you, um remember anything from earlier?” Hongjoong asked me, directing my eyes to his wrapped hands.

“Uh not really, I had a killer headache though.” I looked around, seeing their concerned faces. “Did I do that to you?”

“No, I- uh just got a really bad burn from something I touched.” He exchanged looks with Yunho. I was about to ask what they were hiding but was interrupted by the arrival of Seonghwa and San. They joined us around the fire, passing around the various foods.

“Man, this takes me back. I used to camp all the time back in Seoul.” Wooyoung started, nudging me. “How about you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I was always outdoors back home.” I hugged my arms to my chest, the memories of home were one of the main things that I thought about since I arrived here.

“So you were outdoorsy then?” Yeosang confirmed, watching my face.

“It was the one place where I felt like I was secure. As you found out the first day, I have been looking for my birth parents for years and being outside in nature feels like I eliminated the physical objects between their presence and mine.”

“I understand what you mean. It was like that for me too but with the clinic. I was always there, nowhere else seeming to provide the same comfort that I got when I was there helping others.” Seonghwa agreed, slowly picking at his food.

“So that’s how you got your powers then?” I asked, not noticing how my question had caused everyone to stop their eating.

“Yeah, I guess.” Seonghwa nodded, looking at me with the same hopeful eyes as Hongjoong earlier.

After dinner, the boys split into their groups for night watch, Mingi, and Hongjoong taking the first shift. I followed the others into the cave, finding a spot behind one of the parts of the wall that extended out. Small whisperings were heard before the boys settled down for the night, silence enveloping the cave.

Even though my eyes were closed, thoughts swarmed my head preventing sleep from taking over my body. Today alone had been just as hectic as all my other days on this island, but because of me, the Lost Boys have been forced out of their home. Jongho also got hurt because of me. It wasn’t something I could just take lightly.

I sat up, unsure of how many hours had passed, my gaze landing on Jongho’s sleeping form. He looked much better than earlier. I slowly got up, tiptoeing past the others until I was outside.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Mingi asked, his voice frightening me. I took a flashlight and stood next to him, greeting Hongjoong who was on the other side of the entrance.

“My mind won’t shut up.” I felt Mingi’s gaze fall to me and looked back up to him. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but turned to resume his watch. It became quiet again save for Hongjoong’s quiet yawns. Thirty minutes passed, the time for a group switch having come already.

“You guys get some sleep, I’ll stay here while the other group heads out.” I waved them off, Mingi’s face looking apprehensive. “The next group will be coming out with me as soon as you guys go in.”

“Make sure you get some sleep eventually,” Mingi threw one final look at me, walking into the cave. I turned back towards the forest, my flashlight scanning the perimeter in front of me. I was on full alert, fully aware that Neverland was determined to throw us a curveball when given the chance.

The night was too silent, the darkness swallowing the trees and shrubs. My ears listened for anything, picking up the sound of the crunching of branches slowly increasing in volume. I could feel the hairs on my arms start to rise, my arm reaching behind me to grab the knife I had stowed in the waistband of my pants. The trees in front of me started to shake, my eyes widening as I looked for signs of Wooyoung and San who were next for the night watch.

A howl broke through the air, the loud footsteps speeding up. I gripped my knife, prepared for another Khanin to run out in front of me and attack. A sinister laugh came from behind me almost whisper-like in my ear, the creature grabbing my knife from my hand and appearing in front of me.

“Try again.”

It was a large animal, its body resembling more of a human figure but with two black horns on the top of its head. Its eyes glowed a yellow color, the hands splayed out with my knife loosely dangling from one of its claws. I screamed, sending a gust of wind towards the monster, who dodged it just in time.

“Hey, hey no need to use your powers!” The creature walked forward trying to derail my efforts, only causing me to scream louder. Another blast of wind ripped through the trees, the monster blocking its face with its arm. I backed up, not wanting to retreat into the cave and bring the monster straight into our camp.

“Wow, you’re really powerful.” The monster looked at their arm, the wind having shred the skin there. The skin grew back almost instantaneously, showing no visible damage from the attack. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. Stop screaming, and you back there, stop your attack.” The creature dropped my knife, holding its hands up in surrender. I turned to see all the Lost Boys behind me weapons raised ready to fight, the same shock displayed on their faces.

“What are you? Why are you here?” I tried to stop my voice from shaking. Even weaponless, the creature in front of me evoked fear within me.

“I am a Phooka, a changeling if you will. I am a demon trickster spirit and was merely trying to play a trick on you, but you,” The creature paused, “You have a very bright aura. Your powers are strong.”

I looked back at the lost boys, searching their faces to see if any of this made sense to them. Seonghwa came forward, standing by my side.

“What do you mean her powers are strong?” He questioned, his stance rigid and still not trusting of the Phooka.

“Much stronger than yours, human. All of yours. Her powers have just started.” The Phooka narrowed his eyes, staring straight at San. “His powers are strong too, not like my master’s though.”

“Master?!” I looked incredulously at the creature.

“We Phooka’s serve as familiars. I am now at your service.” It bowed, the tips of its horns glinting in the light.

I looked at Seonghwa, my face representing my confusion. “I-I... don’t get me wrong, but why me? If it is because of these powers you keep talking about I do not know anything about that.”

“Yeah, why her if my powers are apparently strong too.” San voiced from behind me. I threw him a look, concerned that no one was focused on the fact that there was a demon in front of us.

“It is more than that, Master. I am also powerful too and I can protect you. It is your aura that is appealing to me. His, on the other hand, is not. ” He gestured to San, who huffed in protest.

“This is crazy. How am I supposed to trust any of this?” I spoke, not really directing my words to anyone. It looked like the Lost Boys were easing up, their weapons laid at their sides.

“I never have encountered a Phooka before, but from what I heard they aren’t usually dangerous spirits.” Hongjoong looked at me, trying to help me decide. Any and all threat that this monster seemed to pose before now vanished, leaving me winded.

I opened my mouth to respond, before taking a deep breath and bringing my hands to my temples. “I need to go to bed. Yeah, I’m going to bed.” I turned to start walking, the Phooka’s loud footsteps started following behind me, to which I turned around again. “You are not coming.”

“But Master I need to stay by you-”

“I said no,” I signaled to the boys, walking towards the cave “And don’t call me Master.”

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3d-blocks · 5 years

Text

A Curse Upon Me

So we at it with another AU idea, and it's gonna be kinda long so have that.

So you know those posts that talk about Minecraft being a post-apocalyptic world where you play as the last of your kind? Yeah, we're gonna run with that for a bit.

You have this civilization's remains laying around all over this seemingly infinate world. Only each one is better built, better trapped, and better rewarding.

Take a guess at who built 'em

(We're starting from like, the beginning of season 6 btw, mostly because I have 0 knowledge on any other season?)

So Cleo goes missing right off the bat

Joe kinda secludes himself while trying to look for her, but after 2 weeks he stops.

Yeah, then Xisuma finds a desert temple one day and just... loses it?

Once the hermits wrangle X they kinda lock him up, and most projects stop.

After like a week of crazy X (and a month of him saying that he's fine), they let X out for a bit and things just slide back into normality. Yay!

Things, of course, go up from there! :)

So the structures are each wildly different from eachother. As in, one desert temple's puzzle is simple and the architecture is nice and the other wants you dead.

Oh, and we are defo running with the idea that the Endermen we're previously human

Everytime a new person arrives, they usually have trouble breathing, based on the air difference from their previous world. They've come up with some ways to manage the symptoms, but it's still a work in progress

Every hermit is kinda covered in trinkets. Those who are messier than most are practically a reliquary. Everyone has a special item they found that they really like, most don't do anything, but some are helpful. Everyone most definitely has a skeleton key though, now if only they could figure out where the keys are supposed to be used

I have more, but the more would be considered spoilery if I get serious about this one. So have this loveliness

#good job me #you made more work #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #xisuma #hermitcraft xisuma #zombie cleo #joehills #minecraft #longish post #fun speech #mineblr #jotted down #time to let go #ttlg

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caranfindel · 5 years

Text

Recap/review 14.17: “Game Night”

Let the countdown begin, my friends. We only get to do this 24 more times.

THEN: Oh, god, Nick. SO MUCH NICK. It’s not gonna be good. (In fact, I turned to The Husband and warned him it wasn’t going to be a good one. I also pointed out that usually, when he watches with me, it turns out to not be a good one. Case in point: episodes The Husband has watched this season in their entirety include Unhuman Nature. Episodes he has missed include Mint Condition. He may not be allowed to ever watch with me again.) And also Jack and his soul, or lack thereof, but mostly Nick.

NOW: Donatello! He’s baking cookies while singing “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.” (And as I posted earlier, this song is from “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” and if that’s the kind of ending you want for the show, you may find that encouraging. I don’t and I don’t.)

Someone rings the doorbell, impatiently, and we see that Donatello still hasn’t regained his ability to discern good and evil, because he answers the door to some unseen person and the next thing he knows, he’s tied to a table and getting injected with something in an old-timey, completely metal (i.e., opaque) syringe. And screaming. Crap. Those cookies are gonna burn.

Title card!

Bunker. Dean is playing… what is this game called… Mousetrap? Yeah, I think it’s Mousetrap. It’s one of those games that you never actually played according to the rules, you just played with the fun pieces (hello, Operation). Jack’s in the kitchen, being questioned by Mary about his popcorn-popping, when we hear “son of a bitch!” from the other room. And I know some of you are not fans of the gendered insult, but regardless, I’m just glad they dropped that "son of a B” and “rhymes with itch” nonsense. Dean Winchester wouldn’t talk that way. Jack feels game night might not be as relaxing for Dean as intended (what happened to movie night?), but Mary says it was his favorite game as a child (THIRTY SIX YEARS AGO, YOU MEAN?) and okay, who would know about making Dean happy better than Mary? I mean, she caught on to his farewell tour, right? Oh, no, wait, she totally didn’t. Hmmm. Maybe you don’t know him at all.

A little foreshadowing for a trap that will come up later? A metaphor for Dean’s life? Discuss.

Anyway. She asks if Jack is feeling better, and he’s frustrated that people keep asking him that, and she’s all, we’re family. That’s what family does. Pretends they know you. He’s not better. He’s annoyed. As he walks away, she offers to listen to him talk or vent if he’s so inclined, and we watch him very deliberately paste on a smile before he turns back to her and says “you’re here, I know” and he pretends to appreciate her offer and oh, no, Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack. Mary turns away and seems to be thinking pretty much the same thing. But maybe it’s not that Jack is going down a dark road. Maybe it’s just that he’s annoyed with Mary. Because that’s ABSOLUTELY BELIEVABLE.

Game night will begin as soon as Sam gets back with the pizza. Jack expresses interest in the pineapple pizza, proving that he’s at least got some decency left in him. Dean considers it a crime against humanity. (Sidebar: I love Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza, but my mom likes pineapple on her pepperoni pizza, and THAT, my friends, is criminal.)

Mary brings Dean his phone and tells him he missed a call. Dean, you’ve always got at least a dozen pockets on or about your person at any time; there is no excuse for not having your phone.

The message is from Donatello and it’s obviously very disturbing. He puts it on speaker and plays it for Mary and Jack. Donatello begs Dean and Sam for help, and then starts speaking in a language that is not English. And what I want very much is for Sam to listen to this message and recognize it as Enochian and translate it, because OF COURSE SAM SPEAKS ENOCHIAN. But I’m sure we’re not going to get that.

Dean calls Sam and gets his voicemail message, which simply says “you’ve reached Sam Winchester, if this is an emergency, call my brother.” I’m guessing this is the friends-and-family-and-trusted-hunters number, since he doesn’t even give Dean’s number. If you have this number, you have Dean’s number. I like that theory a lot. But why isn’t Sam answering? Has something befallen him? Dean’s not concerned, so I guess I don’t need to be either. He complains that the whole town is a dead zone. (I guess Sam’s supernatural ability to access wifi anywhere doesn’t extend to LTE) and decides they can’t wait for Sam. Oh, good, they’re splitting the brothers up again! Yay! I love it when that happens.

Ahem.

Dean leaves Jack with his phone, so Sam can hear the voicemail and then call him back on his spare. I wonder if Dean’s spare phone is his FBI phone, and if so, does his outgoing message say “you’ve reached Agent Mumbledymumble, if this is an emergency, call my partner?” I hope so. (Cas’s says the same thing, except it says “call my partner, who is tall and has beautiful hair.”)

We cut to a little restaurant and Cas and Anael, and I’m going to recap all of that now and get it out of the way. (Feel free to skip. I feel like skipping, but I’m going to recap it anyway, because that’s just how dedicated I am.) He gives Anael a pair of earrings (16th century Burmese blood rubies, 5 carat, according to Anael) which are only lightly cursed, as a bribe. He wants to contact God. “Good luck with that,” she laughs. But he knows she used to be Joshua’s right hand, and God spoke to Joshua, and maybe she knows how he did it. He wants God to restore Jack’s soul.

He says, again, that he doesn’t know how much of his soul is left, and the last time I complained about Cas’s sudden inability to check that for himself, many of you pointed out that there could be very good reasons for this. Maybe it’s different with a nephilim. Maybe it’s too dangerous. And all of that would be fine, it really would, if the SHOW would give it to us. If Dean would have said “can’t you check, like you did with Sam?” and Cas had replied “it would be too risky, Jack is a nephilim, not a human, and it could be like unleashing a nuclear weapon.” But instead, we’re just getting details about earrings. (Also, I’m saddened to learn that Joshua didn’t survive. I liked him. The original Joshua, not the crappy AU version.)

Moving on. She figures the Winchesters don’t know what he’s up to, and says she can’t help, because Joshua never initiated contact with God. He just received. Cas takes the earrings back and she suddenly gets a little more helpful. There was a rumor, after the fall, that Joshua called God and got an answer. She doesn’t know how he did it, but she knows someone who does. They pull up (in yet another Cas vehicle, a huge pickup that I don’t think we’ve seen before, or maybe we have, all I know is Sam still doesn’t have his own gd car) at some kind of junk/antique store. The guy running the place is Methuselah, one of the few surviving angels. He says he and Joshua were roommates after the fall, and “the guy made a mean lasagna.” I wonder why it didn’t taste like molecules. Cas threatens to burn the place down, with Methuselah in it, and Methuselah calls him “kiddo” (hee!) and says he doesn’t care. I don’t know why another angel would be threatened by Cas, but when Cas calls his bluff and gives him the glowy eyes, he says the “thingamajig” Joshua used to contact God is around somewhere, and they’ll know it when they see it. Or not.

They poke around, and I had something to say about Anael’s “mulberry silk” but I’ve lost the will to write it out, and they find nothing. Anael doesn’t think it matters, because she knows God won’t answer and doesn’t care, because according to Joshua he “doesn’t meddle.” Which Cas disputes, because God brought him back. (And put the Winchesters on a plane over Ilchester, but I digress.) As far as Anael is concerned, that’s even worse - he lets millions of humans die screaming, but saves one angel. Huh. She also knows the real reason Cas is doing this is because he knows Jack has no soul at all, and he doesn’t want to have to tell Sam and Dean. Also, she stepped in a dead rat and she’s done. But on their way out, Cas notices something on a jewelry rack - a pendant that looks similar to the Samulet.

Actually, it looks like an evil version of the Samulet. I mean, it’s a freaking SKULL.

Methuselah says Joshua forged it “before he fell,” and I wonder why it didn’t occur to him that this could be the item Cas was looking for. Or he did know and was just being a dick. Cas clutches the amulet and tries to call on God, invoking the names of Sam and Dean, but he gets no answer. “It never worked for Joshua either,” says Methuselah, and again, why didn’t he admit he knew exactly what the thing was, and that it didn’t work? Outside the shop, Cas tells Anael he’s going to go home and tell Sam and Dean the truth, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do after that. He tells her she was wrong when she said everyone is alone (which I think I skipped in my recap but WHATEVER), because they all have each other. Well, you have Sam and Dean and Jack, so it seems a little unfair to rub that in Anael’s face, but go on then.

So let’s go now to Sam, who is back at the bunker (wearing an orange plaid shirt that would probably go nicely with that orange jacket of his, if I liked that monstrosity) and telling Dean exactly what I said, which is that he should be with him. Oh, Sam. You and I have so much in common.

Dean blows off Sam’s concern and asks about Donatello’s message. Sam tells him it’s not Enochian (OH HAPPY DAY) and he thinks it’s ancient Hebrew, but they’re still working on the translation. He tells Dean to watch his back. We stay with Dean and Mary in the Impala, driving through the perpetually-rainy darkness. (The Husband points out that we should be able to hear the windshield wipers. I really don’t think he’s going to be allowed to watch with me any more.) Dean says Sam (Sammy!) sounds stressed, and Mary says Jack and Dean are stressed too, and she wishes… well, we don’t know what she wishes, but Dean cuts her off and says “you’re here,” like that’s an accomplishment. She wishes she could have been here more. I don’t know, Mary. For a woman who was dead for more than 30 years, you’ve been here plenty. She admits that she can be closed-off and hard, and Dean says “that’s where I get it from,” as if John Winchester had none of those qualities. But okay. Mary wants Dean to know that she’s grateful for every day she has with him and Sam. And on first watch, I assumed this was just some leftover emotion from “Lebanon.” Because I’m always talking about foreshadowing but I miss it when it actually happens, don’t I?

Bunker. Sam is still listening to the voicemail and consulting his English-to-ancient-Hebrew dictionary (and rubbing the back of his neck which is SO DAMN CUTE AND I CANNOT EXPLAIN WHY) when he suddenly recognizes that Donatello is quoting the Bible. And of course he knows exactly where, chapter and verse, because he’s Sam Winchester. It translates as Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking who he may devour. WELL. If that doesn’t send chills down a Winchester’s spine.

Dean and Mary get to Donatellotown (sorry, Donny, I do not remember where you live), where there’s snow on the ground. When they enter the house, they can hear the prophet calling for help. But it turns out it’s just a recording on a phone, with no Donatello in sight. And who walks out of the kitchen but Nick, wearing Donatello’s apron. Well, at least he saved the cookies. Dean cuffs him and Mary goes to search the rest of the house.

“So it’s just you?” Nick asks. “Sammy’s home sick?” And on first watch this is just Nick being Nick. But on rewatch… maybe not. It’s interesting that Dean (and I guess all of the extended TFW) had no idea he’d escaped from prison. Mary finds no Donatello, but she did find Nick’s discarded syringe in the trash. He tells them he injected Donatello with thalium, which will cause his organs to shut down in a day. Just to get their attention. He tells Dean to hit the livestream button on the not-really-Donatello phone, and it shows a video of Donatello, tied up and gagged, sitting on a concrete floor somewhere. “You can save him if you can find him.” Dean pulls a gun on him, but Nick’s not afraid of being killed, because 1) that means Donatello would die, so he knows Dean won’t do it, and b) he has nothing to live for anyway. He wants to talk.

Bunker. Nick is still handcuffed, being led down the hall by Dean in slow motion. Sam and Jack are coming from the other direction. Sam looks anxious, so I assume he knows who’s coming, and when he lays eyes on Nick he <i>snarls</i> and grabs him and throws him against the wall and I’m not a fan of the weird slo-mo thing they’re doing here but otherwise? Angry Sam assaulting Nick? I am HERE FOR THAT. Dean pulls him off and says “not now, not yet,” which sounds like he is perfectly fine with Nick being assaulted but now is not the time. Sam makes a frustrated face and stomps off, and Mary and Jack look upset.

(All gifs were stolen from @itsokaysammy and I apologize for not inserting them the usual way, with the automatic credit, but Tumblr wouldn’t cooperate.)

Dean having to get all handsy, holding Sam back? I am here for THAT as well.

War room. Sam wonders what kind of game Nick was playing, just sitting there waiting for Dean. And he doesn’t even know Donatello. “Lucifer did,” Dean points out, and we could spend some time wondering how much bleed there was between Lucifer and his vessel, how much Nick saw, how much of Lucifer’s thoughts he was exposed to, how much he absorbed. We might want to do that later. But right now, Mary reminds us that Donatello is in danger, and Smart!Sam knows the antidote for thallium is something they already have on hand, Prussian blue, which sounds like a breed of cat but really is the antidote for thallium poisoning. And I suppose Sam could have looked it up on Wikipedia earlier, just like I did, but I choose to believe he just knew. He also thinks he might be able to hack the location of the live feed, but he doesn’t know if they have enough time, and if I were so inclined, I’d comment about Sam’s intermittent hacking abilities, where he’s a hacking genius one day, and the next day Charlie needs to look smart so he needs Charlie to tell him how to hack into a bank. But I’m not going to comment on any of Sam’s intermittent abilities right now. Maybe later.

Well, Nick wanted to talk, so Dean thinks it’s time to talk. “Oh yeah, let’s talk,” Sam says enthusiastically, and I think he means talk with his fists. And for the second time in this episode, Dean lays a hand on him and stops him from going after Nick and once again, I’m here for it. So much. Angry vengeful Sam is really doing it for me. “The way you are right now,” he says, “if Nick looks at you wrong, you’re gonna waste him. That can’t happen.” Which doesn’t really sound like Sam, but yeah, he has been pushed to the edge, so okay. Sam once again accepts the promise that he can get to Nick “later,” and Mary once again looks concerned.

After Dean leaves, Sam tells Mary that he’s the reason Donatello is in this and a police offer is dead. “I’m the one who let Nick go, I’m the one…” and he can’t even finish, he just looks up in frustration and despair with tears in his eyes. “What was I thinking?” (Sidebar: Did Sam really “let Nick go?” Nick actually left the bunker while Cas was “babysitting” him at Sam’s request. Discuss.) Mary tries to get him not to blame himself, saying he couldn’t have known, and he says “that’s not an excuse.” OH SAM. “You gave him a chance because you felt for him,” she says. “Because you’re a good man.” (What do we think about this? Do we think that’s the only, or even the main reason Sam felt sorry for Nick? Or was it because he was also Lucifer’s vessel? Are we supposed to believe Mary actually knows his motivation, or is this yet another example of her Not Getting what’s going on in her sons’ heads? Or is it just bad writing?) Sam obviously doesn’t believe he’s a good man, and she repeats “You are; it’s one of the reasons I’m so proud of you.” Aw Sammy. Closure with Dad, approval from Mom. Kind of a parallel, isn’t it?

The way Sam keeps looking up, in an apparent attempt to not cry, is simultaneously killing me and giving me life.

Cut to Dean punching Nick in the dungeon. Ah, Grand Inquisitor Dean. Always a favorite. Nick says he and Dean are almost like brothers because of the Michael and Lucifer thing. “You’re not the same after something like that, are you? Being one, with one of them. Changes you. Makes you more than human.” Huh. This reminds me of that one guy in season 7 who wanted his possessing demon back. Anyway, Nick wants to see “my son.”

His son? I say. “His son?” Mary says. Is Nick actually Lucifer? Are we going there? Dean is totally against it. Jack asks Sam, because AS WE ALL KNOW, Sam is Jack’s primary dad. Dean is angry that Sam’s not immediately against it, but as Sam points out, Nick is locked down and not a threat (“he’s always a threat,” Mary says, and for once I agree with her), and they’re running out of time. I don’t really like the juxtaposition of these scenes. Moments ago, Sam blamed himself for everything Nick has done and castigated himself for being stupid enough to “let him go.” And now he’s all, he’s not a threat. If I were writing this, Sam would have said yes, it’s risky and I’m not happy about it, but I don’t think we have any other way to save Donatello. And Jack would have gone in with a phone in his pocket on speaker so Sam could hear everything that happened. But I didn’t write this. So.

Jack walks into the dungeon and demands to know where Donatello is. Nick is impressed by his spunk and says it comes from his father.

My father was a monster

Everybody’s a monster. Even your three dads. How many innocent people you think they’ve killed?

Okay, we know I love any reference to Jack’s three dads, so thank you for that, Nick. And also, yes, he’s right. They’ve killed a lot of innocent people. Lots of not-so-innocent people too, but yeah, there’s a lot of collateral damage out there.

Nick also tells Jack “He loved you. You know that? He did. I felt it. He loved you so much, and you broke his heart.” And we knew Lucifer said he loved Jack, but it’s interesting to get confirmation that he truly did. As well as confirmation that Nick felt all of Lucifer’s emotions. Nick then clarifies that he was talking about “the old you, the you with a soul,” because he heard all of that from Donatello. Oh, for a minute there, I thought Nick could detect souls. Jack says he has a soul but Nick eggs him on and then Jack gets in his face and I guess has a sudden angry outburst of nosebleed? It’s hard to tell what’s going on. But Jack’s blood is all over his face, and his shirt, and Nick’s shirt. Hope that washes out. Oh, don’t need it, he takes care of all of it with his glowy-eyed power. Nick is afraid of him now. Unless he’s lying. But why would Nick lie?

Jack steps out of the dungeon and tells his assembled fathers and grandmother that Nick will tell them where Donatello is. Sam wraps his arms around himself uncomfortably. Next we see the brothers and Nick in the Impala, driving through the night. Sidebar: Donatello’s hometown of Lewis (yeah, I looked it up) doesn’t exist, according to Mapquest, but elsewhere on the Internets one can learn that it’s a “township” near Tushka, Oklahoma, which is almost an 8 hour drive from Lebanon. I wonder where Lucifer stashed him? In Lewis, or closer to Lebanon? Not that it matters. Carrying on.

When the guys get to Nick’s hidey hole, it’s daylight and it’s snowing. Dean and Sam both threaten that Sam will shoot Nick if he does anything, Sam hands Dean the antidote, and Dean goes off on his own. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Meanwhile, in the bunker, Jack sees Mary going through the pile of stuff she carried back from Donatello’s house for some reason, and recognizes that the hypodermic syringe held angel grace. Wait. Grace? Not thallium? Nick lied? Color me shocked.

Sam’s sitting in the Impala with Nick, who is doing his best to be as annoying as Lucifer, and poor Sam looks like he wants to shoot either Nick or himself. He gets a call from Mary, and while he gets out of the car to talk to her, we see Nick has produced a something from somewhere and is picking at his handcuffs. Sam yanks the car door open, waves his gun at Nick, and orders him out of the car, because he knows that will make for a more dramatic and attractive confrontation. (Hey, I’m not complaining, I’m just pointing it out.) He tells Nick he knows about the grace and asks him why. Nick explains that prophets are like “old CB radios,” and Sam knows that means he was trying to communicate with someone, and who could THAT be? Because Lucifer is dead, right? Well, yeah, if dead means awake, in the empty, and able to tell Nick how to bring him back using Jack’s blood. “Come on, Sam,“ Nick says. "Nobody stays dead any more. You know that.” Well, obviously Nick has been watching our show!

Nick reveals that demons have been hiding him, and obtained the angel grace for him, because they’re as anxious to have Lucifer back as he is. It’s your own fault, Sam. You denied them a leader. What did you expect them to do? Sam’s standing there, holding a gun on Nick, and I’m going “shoot him, shoot him, dammit” and then Nick’s handcuffs fall to the ground so Sam shoots him in the head. Oh no, he doesn’t. He yells for Dean, who is in the warehouse, many yards away.(And it’s not even a Bucklemming episode.) They start punching each other, so I guess Sam drops his gun? He does end up pinning Nick, with his hands around his throat, so it looks like Sammy’s gonna win this one. But he stops before Nick even loses consciousness (SAM! HAVE YOU STILL LEARNED NOTHING FROM THE WHOLE THING WITH JAKE?), because Sam is extremely skilled and efficient at hand-to-hand combat, except when he’s mysteriously NOT.

This gives Nick the opportunity to reach for a rock and bash his head in. Sam is dazed, and Nick throws him against the car (and we know hitting a hard object with your back and shoulders knocks you unconscious, we’ve seen it many times) and taunts him. “Lucifer’s perfect vessel. You aren’t so perfect now, are you?” Oooooooh, wait. Is Nick jealous? Jealous of Sam being the perfect vessel? Has Nick been feeling Lucifer’s thoughts about Sam for all these years, feeling how much he preferred his perfect vessel, and gnashing his jealous little teeth? And if so, why couldn’t we have had 17 episodes of that? Why is this delightful tidbit just coming to light NOW?

Dazed Sam manages to get in the car and lock the doors, and as Nick pounds on the window, he frantically honks the horn. Now, some folks on Tumblr think he was trying to warn Dean, but I think he’s calling for help. Desperately, frantically calling for help.

As this is happening, Dean enters the warehouse (an abandoned warehouse? imagine that!), oblivious to a couple of shadowy figures watching him. He sees Donatello, and then hears Sam call him, but is attacked by demons just as that happens. He does, finally, conquer his demons by way of the angel blade. Donatello manages to free himself during the melee, and they run outside. Nick is gone and Sam has managed to get out of the car, but not to stand up. Dean runs up to him and there’s some panicky “Sammy!” and looking around as if there’s someone or something there to help, and Sam broken and bloody on the ground, just the way I like it.

Hi, my name is Caranfindel and I have a problem.

As Nick yanks a guy out of his truck and makes his getaway, Dean calls Mary and tells her what happened. “He hurt Sam, he got him in the head. I don’t even wanna move him. We called an ambulance but they said twenty minutes. It’s not good, Mom, it’s really bad.” I didn’t even get that this was supposed to be a serious head injury until this point. I mean, obviously it would be serious in real life, but in Supernatural life, Sam gets knocked unconscious on a regular basis and suffers no ill effects, and I thought this was just going to be another one of those.

Nick breaks into a cabin and sets up his little Lucifer spell. (It’s a good thing - or a bad thing - that this abandoned cabin had an ample supply of salt, and apparently everything else Nick needs besides Jack’s blood.) When he lights a fire, Jack reacts in the bunker, saying it feels like his blood is burning. And he can feel him. He can get to him. He says he needs to use his powers, and Mary says “do it,” and I had forgotten that he promised not to use them without permission. Nick chants the spell and Lucifer appears, and for once, the effect is actually pretty cool and not cheesy. He’s a swirling black snake-like mass, lit from within. He’s still got that Terminator face, but it’s mostly hidden by the rest of it, so that’s good.

“I’m here, I’m ready,” says Nick. “Your vessel, your perfect vessel. Make me strong again. Make me you.” Perfect vessel? I don’t THINK so, Nick. Not in your wildest dreams. (And I appreciate another reference to Nick wanting what Sam has.) Lucifer reaches for him, but just before he can touch him, Jack and Mary show up and Jack zaps him out of existence. So, Jack gets to kill Michael and Lucifer? Seems unfair. Jack mutilates Nick’s outreached hand and then sets him on fire, with Mary yelling at him to stop. So, it looks like Nick’s dead, but I’ve been fooled before. And that makes it three for Jack and zero for Sam. If you’re keeping track.

Over at Nick’s hidey hole warehouse, Dean is in full-on “it’s not even that bad” mode. He holds a bandanna against Sam’s cracked-open head and tries t get him to count with him, but he only gets to two before Sam decides it’s time to say goodbye. “You always put me first,” he says, between raspy breaths. “Your whole life.” (I had to resort to closed-captioning to understand that last bit.) And then he goes limp and Dean gets even more panicky and face-patty.

This is not fair, Sammy. You just died on me last season.

Back at Nick’s cabin, Mary tells Jack to go help Sam. He zaps over to the Impala and is horrified to see his favorite (I know it, you know it) father dying. He puts a hand on Sam’s face and heals him, and as Sam gasps back to life, Dean quickly helps him to his feet and then even more quickly turns away and puts a hand to his face because he can’t do this, he can’t let anyone see how emotional he is, he needs a second to compose himself, he’s going to burst out sobbing or screaming or something and he just has to turn away and godDAMN this is such a good acting choice on Jensen’s part. I love it. We need to watch it some more.

And more and more.

Sam asks about Nick and Mary and Jack tells them he stopped Nick, and Mary is fine. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Narrator: Everything was NOT going to be fine.

Back at the cabin, Mary’s quietly freaking out. Jack zaps back and tells her he healed Sam and everything’s okay (ha ha no), but she’s obviously not happy. Apparently her concern isn’t that Jack killed Nick, but that he did it “like that.” Oh, come on, Mary. Get off your high horse. You seemed to enjoy a bit of “interrogation” back in the day with the BMoL. This isn’t that different. Jack begs her to tell him he did okay, but she refuses. “It’s not your fault, but the Jack I know would never have done that.” Well, I have to disagree, but I can’t think of any real evidence right now.

“If Sam and Dean saw what you did,” she says, “they would be as worried as I am.” Hi, Mary, have you met your son Dean, the Grand Inquisitor from earlier in the episode? Or your other son Sam, the sweet kind gentle giant who was ready to beat Nick to a pulp? Dean had to physically restrain him from pummeling Nick TWICE, and only managed it by promising he could have him “later.” But anyway. She promises they’ll help Jack, because they’re family, but he yells at her to leave him alone and grabs his head and she can NOT take a hint and finally his eyes glow gold and he says “LEAVE ME ALONE” one more time and boom. The screen goes black and we hear “…Mary?”

(Me, to The Husband: “Mary’s gone? Well, I guess this was a good episode after all!”)

Well, that explains why we’ve had so much Mary-and-sons bonding and mutual appreciation in this episode. I mean, it didn’t make me care any more about her being gone, but, okay. And there were a lot of things I could have done without. The guys being separated. Cas’s endless B-plot. Sam not shooting Nick, and losing a fight he really should have won. But these things brought me hurt/dying Sam and frantic Dean, so I accept them. And I’m disappointed that Sam never got his “later” with Nick, and once again he didn’t get to kill Lucifer, but at least SOMEBODY did, and you’ve gotta love that. And we got angry-vengeful Sam and trying-not-to-cry Sam and Grand Inquisitor Dean, so. That makes up for a lot of nonsense.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

#spn #14.17 #spoilers #hurt sam #hurt!sam

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fandomandangstlover · 4 months

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builder duo!! the fellas ever

anyways unite smp is neat. have some art of the more curses au i got :3 my wattpad has more info of this au in its balancer productions book so u can check that out if u wish to.

that all. runs away.

#the engineer doodles (art tag)#myct #unite smp #balancer productions #c!Butterz #c!Box #more cursed items! yay! au

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shadowedlamplight · 5 years

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A Chance Encounter

Decided to post a snippet of something I’ve been working on for some time now (does 1800 words still count as a snippet??). It’s a superhero AU, with Roman, Patton, and Logan as the super-team, and Virgil as one of their major villains. There’s a lot I have planned for it, but this is all I have written so far.

Hope you enjoy it!!

Fandom: Sanders Sides Words: 1,743

Virgil’s back hurt. He knew from experience that a rooftop was the best place to watch from when he was patrolling, but damn was it hard on his spine, especially after a long shift. Maybe he should invest in a lawn chair—one of those portable ones that you could strap to your back! He could make it look like some sort of cool backpack, because it would kill his reputation is someone saw him with a striped chair on his shoulders. Never let it be said that he wasn’t grateful for his abilities.

After all, his outfit wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating if everyone could see the navy morphsuit for what it was. What hero would take him seriously if he showed up in that? No, the dark mask and tattered cape were much better suited to his position, even if none of it was actually real. He wondered if he should change it up, though—he quite liked the alternating black and purple on his arms and legs, but he remembered one news outlet that had called it “a bad Halloween costume with black underwear to boot.” Not that The Witness was exactly skewed toward his side of things...

He was yanked out of his fashion concerns by the slam of a door hitting the wall and shouting. He looked for the source of the sound. Down the street he saw a convenience store door smack shut with the sound of its bells, and a guy running down the sidewalk with something pressed to his chest. The shop door started to open again, and Virgil quickly threw out a hand, the thief suddenly becoming invisible to everyone but himself. The shopkeep looked left and right before throwing his hat to the floor and storming back inside. Virgil almost felt bad, but the owner of the store wasn’t his concern. He looked back at the thief, who was fortunately veering in the direction of the building Virgil was on. Good, less work for him.

He ran to the ladder that would get him to the fire escape and carefully slid down it. He had to get to the ground before the thief got past him. He silenced his footsteps on the old metal, grateful for the element of surprise it would give him, and climbed down as fast as he could, trying to get to the safest height possible. Then, once he was at a low enough height (where he was least likely to break any bones), and before he could talk himself out of it, Virgil jumped.

He grunted as he hit the ground. Bending his knees to a crouch helped to soften the blow, but it didn’t do much. The alley wasn’t quite wide enough for him to tumble safely, and while he was sure that it looked cool, he would be feeling it in the morning.

Looking cool seemed to have done the trick, though, because the thief—a teenager, as he had suspected—staggered back, almost slipping on the wet asphalt. His eyes went wide under the streetlamps as Virgil stood, and he turned sharply to run again.

“Don’t!” He barked, more harshly than he intended. He winced at his deepened, doubled voice, echoing through the alleyway. Sounding demonic probably wouldn’t help to stop the kid from running, but he couldn’t help that—the modulation was a part of his costume as much as his mask or his suit. He couldn’t just ditch it. He took a breath and tried for a calmer tone. “I’m not looking for a fight, I just wanna talk.”

The kid surprised him when he actually hesitated for a second, and Virgil was quick to put a guise of himself in the kid’s path. He made himself invisible and ran up to silently slip into its place as the kid gaped. For all the reputation that he had built there were still a few people who hadn’t realized what his actual power was, but he wasn’t quick to correct what worked in his favor.

“Breathe,” he advised, looking the kid over now that he had the chance. He almost cursed aloud. They just kept getting younger.

“You–” He was practically shaking, and it looked like the stolen goods that had originally caught Virgil’s attention, now tucked under his jacket, were about to fall out of his grip. “Y-you– You’re–”

“Forge, yeah. That’s me.” He sighed. “Now you wanna chill out? I told you, I just wanna talk.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” It was defensive, sarcastic, afraid. It was obvious this kid didn’t know how to control his filter. Virgil smirked behind his mask. “Because dark alleys where you jump from the fire escape are the best place to chat it up, my mistake.”

Virgil snorted. “Kid, if I wanted to hurt you we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I don’t fight over territory, and you don’t see me out there ‘fighting the good fight’ with Red, White, and Punchy, do ya?” The kid still looked like he was ready to run. “I’m no hero,” Virgil said firmly. “I’m not gonna bust you. We’re gonna talk for a bit, and then we’re both going to go our separate ways.”

The kid looked him up and down, and he swallowed. “That’s all?” He asked, licking his lips.

Honestly, Virgil couldn’t blame him for his nerves. “That’s all. Scout’s honor.”

The kid shook his head just slightly. “I’m no boy scout, man.”

Virgil grinned. “Funny, me neither.”

The kid didn’t seem to see the humor in it. He was shifting uncomfortably, smoothing his hand over the package under his jacket. “So what do you wanna ‘talk about’ if you’re not looking to beat the crap out of me?”

“Breathe,” Virgil reminded him. He sighed, looked him over again. “What’s your name?” He asked instead.

“What?”

“What. Is. Your. Name?” He asked calmly, meeting the kid’s eyes as best he could with his mask on.

There was a long moment of hesitation before: “...Drew.”

“Drew. Okay. And now we’re not strangers, yay,” Virgil drawled. “Now, Drew. What did you steal?”

The kid gripped the package tighter. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Jesus fu– I’m not gonna take it from you!” He took a deep breath and let it out slow, running a hand over the top of his head and through the illusion of hair. He needed a good long rest when he got home—too much work had shortened his temper. “Just– What did you take?”

“Why do you care? You’re not gonna take it unless it’s something you want, is that it?” Drew asked, squaring his shoulders.

“Because I do.” Virgil crossed his arms. “And no. Now do you really want to prolong this by being stubborn—stupidly, I might add—or get it over with? Consider your options wisely.”

Drew stared him down for a brief moment, back straight and chin high, before he sighed. “It’s not that much,” he said quietly. “Just a loaf of bread, some peanut butter. Band-aids and shit.” He held up the bag of bread and pulled the other items from his pockets. “I didn’t go nuts.”

“No, you didn’t,” Virgil agreed, inwardly relieved. “Just grabbed the necessities, right?” He had suspected as much when he saw the way the kid bolted, but he’d needed to be sure.

Drew blinked. “I– Yeah.” He slipped the smaller items back into his jacket and seemed to deflate. “Can I go now? I gotta…” He trailed off, glancing back at the alleyway behind him.

“Get home, yeah.” He nodded. “Where are you going?” He held up a hand when Drew’s head shot up. “I’m not looking for your address, relax. Just the general area. And don’t bullshit me.”

Drew glared at him for a moment, expression just short of a snarl. He finally spat: “Wakehurst.”

Wakehurst Street. Virgil didn’t go there often, but he knew the area. Knew how to get there, at least.

“Okay,” he said agreeably. “Yeah, go on home, kid. But don’t take Addley, take Chapel.” Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “I know, Addley’s faster, but there’s a patrol down there about this time. Chapel’s quiet enough that you shouldn’t see anybody. And here.”

Virgil looked at the loaf of bread in Drew’s hand, and a moment later a guise materialized around it—a generic white shopping bag, THANKYOU printed in bright red letters on the side. The handles fit neatly in Drew’s clenched hand, as though the bag had been there the entire time. The teen’s eyes blew wide. The bread fell through the fake bag when he dropped it in shock, but Virgil was quick to catch it.

“You can’t let go,” he said, smiling. “There’s nothing really there. But walking with that will look a lot less suspicious than sprinting with something tucked into your chest at 1 A.M.. Can’t avoid cops if someone calls ‘em on you.”

He held out the loaf of bread and Drew slowly took it back. It slipped right through the guise of the bag and looked no different than an actual grocery bag. Virgil smiled privately at the realism.

Drew was staring at him. “Why are you…?”

Virgil shrugged. “Because you’re clearly new at this?” He offered. “Because you took the cheapest food you could find? Because those Doc McStuffins band-aids aren’t for you?” The kid glanced down at his pocket. “I’ve been there,” Virgil said simply. “And what you really need, you need. Even when it’s slightly illegal.”

Drew looked dumbstruck for a moment before he finally nodded, straightening. “Thank you, Forge,” he said softly.

“Don’t mention it.”

Drew’s lips curled into a small smile as he started to turn away. “‘No hero,’ huh? You sure you’re not one of the good guys?”

Virgil scoffed. “Dude, I’ve had more brawls with Schema than anybody else in this city, and I just made myself an accessory to your theft. Do you really think I’m gonna go join ranks and start singing about truth and justice?”

Drew laughed softly as he walked away. Virgil smiled despite himself.

Instead of heading back to the roof to finish his patrol, he turned in the opposite direction, toward home. He still had work tomorrow, and he needed to pick up Thomas from Tessa’s place in the morning. But making sure that kid got home all right would be worth the lost sleep. Though that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to finally seeing his bed. Virgil made himself invisible and slipped silently into the darkness.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #superhero au #ts virgil #supervillain!virgil #technically #he's a softie #fic #mine #(un)sung heroes #A chance encounter #oc #t #oneshot

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spadesinglasses · 6 years

Text

An AU for Tyrus

Things to take notice : This is an au where Buffy had no time to tell Cyrus how she hates him, the chocolate chocolate chip muffin scene never started but any interaction shared by Buffy and TJ happened (which means Buffy still hates TJ etc.)

From this.

The thing is, he’s never meant to be in front of the camera. He loves working behind the equipment, directing Jonah where to position himself, how to act and then how to react to certain scenarios. He dislikes being put on the spotlight. He dislikes having to behave unnaturally. That’s why he ran, he ran after sweating too much, after the room started heating too much and when Jonah’s attitude became too much.

He didn’t know what got into him that made him excited over the project. Sure, being able to appease Dr. Metcalf and score additional points for his record is good, but it wasn’t that. Maybe it was because of how proud Jonah looked at him when he told them that. Curse crushes and how he wouldn’t want to let him down.

And then when Jonah offered to help, of course he couldn’t keep himself from jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him. His mouth ran on its own of course, he couldn’t help it, he was feeling jittery, excitement and nerves overloading his senses.

And then when they finally started filming, everything that could ever go wrong had gone wrong. From the lockers, to his look, to his panic attack. He just needed to get away, as fast as he could. Curse Jonah’s unrelenting positivity. Sometimes he just wants to shake Jonah out of it, but he couldn’t, he could never.

So, he’s here, on his swing in the middle of the park singing his heart out. It might seem childish, but it works, and it’s what he needed. And he sings when he’s swinging, and when he’s sliding, and when he’s making a mug of chocolate. He sings to express his feelings, to calm his self, and it works!

Clang! Goes the swing-set as a ball hit one of the metal legs. His singing abruptly stopped to see a guy running towards him.

“Hey can you throw the ball to me?” The stranger shouted from across the field. Throwing a stray ball was on his list mostly because he would never come close to any kind of sports, but this was his chance to cross it off!

“Yes! Of course! Let me just-“He stopped his swing with his feet before fumbling towards the ball, tripping a few times before finally shouting in glee.

The guy, blond and in some sports attire was looking at him weirdly but forget about that, finally a ball! Cyrus grinned at the item before trying to aim for the teen. “Okay, so I’ll just throw it right?”

“You know what, why not just let me get it.” The teen shouted from across, his gait confident, face scrunched in annoyance.

“No! Just let me do this!” He shouted back, arms already stretching outwards. This is his last chance!

With a renewed vigor, and panic as how the other teen started running, he threw the ball as hard as he can—

Blam! Goes the ball straight to the other person’s body. “Oh my god!” Cyrus gasped before running towards the groaning blond. “Are you okay?” He kneeled and started looking for injury.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. That’s quite a throw.” Blond groaned once more before clutching the ball that fell beside him. “Should’ve just listened to me, y’know.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that throwing an astray ball has been in my list, which by the way I can cross off now.” He grinned before shaking his head to help the teen up. “I’m really sorry about it by the way.”

“It’s fine, it loosened me up that’s for sure. I probably needed it.” Blond smiled before sighing. “I’m not in the mood to shoot baskets anymore.” He frowned.

“Whoa, I wanted to do that. But well we can swing if you want? It helps me loosen up more than having a random stranger injure me with a ball.” He pointed at the swing-set he just abandoned. “It works.”

Blond looked at Cyrus for a second before looking at the swing=set before shrugging. “Sure, it seemed like you were enjoying it earlier.” He walked past Cyrus.

“Singing also helps your mood, I sing a lot when I’m feeling down, and when I feel down I always go here.” He stated before grabbing a seat on the other.

“Really? What do you sing here?” The blond asked as he swing himself.

Cyrus started swinging, smile on his lips “Legs go up, legs go down –” Cyrus lost himself to the good feeling of the swing, and the blond wasn’t even making fun of him.

“Nice song.” Cyrus heard after his song, “What do you sing when you’re on the slide?”

“You go down, we say yay, you don’t climb up, that’s the wrong way.” Cyrus grinned when the other teen smiled at him.

“Huh, did not expect you have a song for that.”

Cyrus stared at the teen next to him. The other was still smiling at him, quite different from the one he saw across the park.

His heart thumped quicker.

“Uh, my name is Cyrus.” He offered.

The other teen grinned, “Mine is TJ.”

And the rest of their conversation was filled of swinging, smiling and laughing with one another.

#cyrus goodman #TJ kippen #andi mack #tyrus

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starry-kfics · 6 years

Text

ink poisoning [changbin]

mel here for day 4 of appreciating stray kids, with our soft little shadow boy binnie binnie changbinnie!! if you like soulmate aus, i’ve been writing one for every boy’s appreciation day (can be found on my masterlist)

word count: 1951

warnings: mild cursing (hell, etc.)

author: mel

extra info: soulmate au where whatever you write on your skin shows up on theirs, and vice versa

♡

You woke with a start one day, after a particularly bad dream. You couldn’t quite remember what it was about, but it left you with tears staining your cheeks. Grabbing your pen, you hoped that he was awake.

‘Changbin?’ You scribbled onto your hand, knowing that if he was awake, he tended to like to wear sweaters, covering up any writing you might put on your forearm.

'Yes, Y/N?’ Came the reply, in his familiar and somewhat messy handwriting along your forearm, signalling that he had pulled up his sleeve for a full conversation.

'Why are you awake?’

'I could ask you the same’

'I had a bad dream’

'What happened in it?’

'I don’t remember’

'You should try to go back to sleep’

'Why are you awake?’

'Working’

'Don’t stay up too late, Binnie’

'I won’t, jagi, now go to sleep’

'Fine’

'I’ll talk to you later’

'You better’

'Y/N, sleep’

Even though you’d never heard Changbin’s voice, you could almost feel the stern tone he had through his note.

It had been nearly a year since your soulmate indicator was activated. You and Changbin had never tried to met up, exchange numbers, call each other, or even email each other. Why? You didn’t quite know, there was something comforting about just being able to write to him, as if he was your own personal pen pal. Something secure about it, as if you were safe from any sort of rejection. That idea in itself was ridiculous, you two were soulmates. But that lingering fear was still in you, keeping you from ever trying to take it further with Changbin.

And he didn’t try either, so you imagined that he had the same thoughts as you. Which you were perfectly content with.

Your friends and family always nagged at you to meet this boy that you couldn’t shut up about and were definitely head over heels for, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Y/N, turn that light off.” Your friend Jiwoo grumbled from the air mattress on the floor.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, forgetting that you were having a sleepover together while you both were back in town for winter break.

Not wanting to upset her any more, you quickly leaned over to click your lamp off. Rolling over in your bed and pulling your blanket tighter around you, you slowly drifted off back to sleep.

When you woke up again, you saw that Jiwoo wasn’t in her bed, and heard the shower running. You chuckled to yourself at how at home she made herself in your home, and grabbed your pen before heading towards the kitchen.

“Morning, Mom.” You greeted the woman in the kitchen with a yawn and a smile.

“Morning, Y/N.” She looked up from her book for a moment. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“For what?”

“Jiwoo told me you all are going to brunch.”

“First I’ve heard.”

“Well you should go get ready. It sounds like she just got out of the shower, and if I remember she’s not very patient.”

“She’s not.” You agreed, traipsing back to your room to choose what to wear.

As Jiwoo did her makeup in the bathroom, and you got changed in your room, a small doodle on your wrist caught your attention. You chuckled when you saw that it was meant to be Gyu, the Pokemon plush Changbin has. Drawing next to it, you added a couple little hearts before returning to your outfit. You knew that Changbin must be bored, he only doodled if he had nothing better to do.

'Y/N~~~~~~’

'Binnie~~~~’

'I’m bored’

'I can tell’

'We should play a game’

'I wish I could, but I’m going out with my friend’

'Fine, have fun!’

'Thanks, jagi, I’ll write to you later’

“Y/N! What’s taking so long?” Jiwoo’s voice suddenly penetrated through your door, accompanied by loud knocks as her fist slammed against the wood.

“You’re so impatient, Chuu!” You retorted, calling her by the cutesy nickname you knew would usually calm her down.

“Sorry,” She uttered in a much softer tone. “I’m just really excited.”

“It’s just brunch.” Shaking your head, you straightened out your shirt and took one more look in the mirror.

“I just have a really good feeling about this brunch.”

“Well now I’m suspicious.”

Swinging the door open, you were met with a smiling Jiwoo, who immediately grabbed your arm to pull you towards the front door. You managed to grab your purse and yell out a goodbye to your mom before being yanked onto the streets. Jiwoo and you kept up an amicable conversation as you walked, and when you brought your hand up to brush a piece of hair out of your face, you saw it. A giant scribbled mess along your arm and hand.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jiwoo snorted, to which you frowned.

“He must be trying to get my attention.” You desperately tried to find a blank space to write back to him.

'Binnie, what’s wrong?’

'Nothing’

'Then what’s with the mess?’

'My friends were writing inappropriate things so I had to scribble them out. For your sake’

'What kind of things?’

'You really don’t want to know’

'Did they draw penises?’

'How did you know?’

'All of your friends are immature 12 years olds’

'Jeongin wants you to know that he’s actually 18’

'Jeongin can go choke’

'Y/N’

'Changbin’

'You made him cry’

'Whoops?’

'They’re fake tears, because he’s a little bitch’

'Oh my god’

'I’ve got to go, Chan is assaulting me now for calling him that’

'Don’t get killed, bye jagi’

'I’ll try’

Capping your pen, you saw that Jiwoo had stopped you two, but not in front of the brunch place. “Why are we at the mall?”

“You need new clothes.” She declared, leading the way to one store. “A brunch outfit!”

“What’s wrong with my current one?”

“Nothing, it’s cute. But you should be looking hot.”

“What are you on today, Chuu?” You raised an eyebrow as your friend started rifling through racks of clothes.

“Nothing new!”

“But seriously, I’m not buying a new outfit just for brunch, I barely have enough cash to pay for said brunch.”

“I’ll pay for it!” Chuu chirped, grabbing a shirt to go with the bottoms she chose, then a jacket before speeding over towards the shoes.

“You’re crazy, I’m not letting you buy me an outfit just to go to brunch.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.” You grabbed her arm to stop her from calling for an assistant to open a dressing room for you. “ChuuChuu, please just stop whatever this is you’re doing.”

As soon as she widened her eyes and stuck out her bottom lip ever so slightly, you were done for. She unfortunately knew just how to get her way. “Fine, I’ll try them on, but no way in hell are you buying these for me.”

“Yay!” Jiwoo squealed, waving over a worker who promptly unlocked the dressing room for you.

So Jiwoo might be acting crazier than usual, but at least she had actually chosen a very cute outfit for you. It was kind of scary how she knew all your sizes and your style perfectly, but that probably came from your nineteen years of friendship.

“Okay, you win. It’s a cute outfit.” You called out to where she waiting outside your door.

“Let me see it!”

Opening to door, you showed to her, doing a small spin at her request. “It’s perfect, Y/N! Give me the tags so I can go buy them, you stay in the clothes, okay?”

Before you could argue, she was already snapping tags off of all the individual items, from the necklace down to the shoes. Gleefully, she ran over to the cash register, and the cashier gave the both of you a strange look before shrugging, going along with your friend’s weird tendencies. Sighing, you gathered up your old clothes, waiting for Jiwoo to return so you could put them in her backpack she always insisted on carrying around.

As the two of you left the store, she had a renewed skip in her step, one that was contagious. You found yourself walking with some confidence too, loving how you felt in this outfit.

Finally, you two were at the brunch place, and just as you were about to grab the door handle, Chuu stopped you. “Hold on.”

“What are you doing, Jiwoo?” You raised an eyebrow, complying as she took out her phone to fervently type something in.

“Give… me… one minute…” She muttered, intently reading whatever the person she was texting had replied with.

Curious, you read her conversation with 'Felix’ over her shoulder, throat closing on itself as you realized what was happening, “Kim Jiwoo, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She whipped around, looking at you fearfully as you were sure you had a murderous look on your own face. “I’m helping you, Y/N.”

“No, I don’t want this!”

“Y/N, come on, they’re right inside.” Jiwoo gestured, and your eyes followed her hand, landing on two guys sitting in the corner booth beside the window.

One of them was Changbin, and you felt like you were going to puke. “No!” You just about yelled, taking off blindly down the street.

“Y/N!” She called after you, but you didn’t reply.

You couldn’t believe that Jiwoo had done this. Organized for you to meet Changbin in person, without your knowledge, and maybe not even with his either, since she was texting 'Felix’. You were comfortable with your current relationship with Changbin, how dare she take it upon herself to upset that?

You didn’t get very far before another voice yelled your name out, much deeper than Jiwoo’s. Skidding to a stop, your heart thundered in your ears and you couldn’t even bring yourself to turn to look at them. At him. Changbin.

“Y/N,” he repeated, breath heavy from the small chase he gave you.

“Changbin?” You questioned, even thought you were sure it was him.

“Can you please look at me?”

Slowly, you turned around to look at him. He didn’t stand very tall, wore a flannel and black baseball cap, but his eyes were what caught you. They were striking, as if he could know everything about with one look. Of course he already did, you’d poured out most of your soul through your ink and skin conversations.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He said, his mouth quirking up in amusement.

“I’m sorry.”

“For running?”

“Yeah, and for this whole thing happening. I don’t even know how Jiwoo did this.”

“Turns out her and Felix wrote to each other, on our arms, while we were asleep this morning.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Changbin confirmed, and there was still an air of awkwardness between you two. “If it means anything, I didn’t even know about this until we were in the booth and Felix told me that my soulmate was coming, how he knew, and then that my soulmate was the person running away.”

“I’m sure that was a great first impression.” You muttered, and Changbin tilted his head to the side.

“That wasn’t a first impression, I already knew you were amazing.”

“Oh.”

“So, can we go get brunch now? If you’re ready, I mean, I can leave and we can keep giving ourselves ink poisoning if you’d like.”

“You can’t actually get ink poisoning like that.” You immediately retorted, which brought a smile to Changbin’s face. “And I think brunch still sounds good.”

“I know a great place a few streets over,” He suggested, and you raised an eyebrow.

“And leave our friends?”

“I personally don’t want them obsessively watching every interaction between us.”

You let out a light laugh, knowing that Jiwoo would definitely do that. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Let’s go.” Changbin offered his hand out to you, and you shyly took it in yours before starting down the street.

#imagines: changbin #skdays #forchangbin #seo changbin #stray kids #stray kids iamgines #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #stray kids scenario #changbin #changbin imagines #changbin imagine #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin imagines #e: skdays #au: ink poisoning #author: mel #*100 #*200

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fantroll-purgatory · 6 years

Text

Calvis Duvide - Troublesome Tyrant

@chaoticevilfantrolls

(Heard you were doin Trollsonas)

Planet: Alternia, AU where Cusp Bloods exist and are considered more or less average trolls, and the age of conscription is 10 sweeps.

Name:Calvis Duvide To be honest, Calvis doesn’t have much of a specific meaning, beyond being a preferred lengthening of my own name. Duvide comes from the term L'appel du Vide, which means Call of the Void in French. In psychology, L'appel du Vide is a term referring to the urge to do self-destructive things without a distinct cause, like the urge to swerve off the road while driving or to jump off of a high place. Additionally, Calvis is a void player who feels drawn to the void as a sort of comfort.

Calvis is a good name and I definitely prefer to keep it around. Now… keep track o’ this leap of logic I’m going to do here to also justify it, but Calvis is also plural for Calvus, which can serve as a reference to Constantine Calvus, a Scottish monarch who attempted to change the rules of succession of the throne and who qualified as heir, which fits with some of Calvis’ behaviors. It can also be a reference to Altolamprologus calvus, a common aquarium fish. And, lastly, a reference to Cumulonimbus calvus, a type of cloud that can look a little, uh… eldritch, sometimes.

Yay for retroactive justification!

Age:9.25 sweeps

Strife Specibus:This one is a little tricky. Because Calvis is a trollsona, I’m drawn to giving him either bladeKind or knifeKind, as those are actual real weapons that I own and am reasonably skilled with? But at the same time, something more thematically relevant like cardKind (tarot and playing cards) might be nice?

I’ve also given him pipeKind before, using both a smoking pipe and also literal lead pipes ala Russia’s cane from Hetalia. That’s more relevant to a massive trollsona generator me and a friend of mine made that was based on the natal astrology chart.

I definitely think in the case of trollsonas, you should go with what you feel a draw towards. If you like blades, if you feel an affinity towards blades, I’d go with that.

You could also do the very void player thing and not have a traditional strife specibus so to speak. You’ve got a character here who seems good at talking his way into things, and who’s good at justifying his logic and having a lot of information, so maybe he could primarily rely on talking instead of fighting?

OR you could have him utilize the tooth he wears, since that’s a nontraditional weapon that relates to his title and because it could be utilized in a way that’s a nice callback to his/your interest in tabletop games. You could utilize it like a fear spell, an intimidation roll, or even something like vicious mockery or hideous laughter. Do that psychic damage, Calvis.

Fetch Modus:Polyhedral Modus

Calvis’ items are stored in a set of polyhedral dice (1d4, 1d6, 1d8, 1d10, 1d%, 1d12, and 1d20). It’s sort of a relic from when he was much more into playing tabletop rpgs. It’s purely random what item he receives, which is why he puts items he retrieves more often in the lower-sided dice. Funnily enough, his modus becomes more troublesome to use the more he embraces his aspect, stepping away from fortune to accept the unknown and nebulous.

So many spots in his sylladex are filled up with items based on former or current interests, among other things that he would rather just… hide from others in general.

Oof, I’m imagining the frustrating ordeal of rolling a d4 and landing on 1 six times in a row.

Blood color:Violet-Fuchsia cusp. The blood color is based on a blood color test that determined a hexcode value from numerical values based on personality traits of each color group (red, green, and blue). He’s kind of in a tricky situation, being just below the cut-off for fuchsia, but definitely redder than most violets.

In the session he’s from, he’s actually in a kismesitude with the proper fuchsia (seeing as they don’t have the biological imperative to kill each other, only really squabble like idiots), who has abdicated his position as heir and given it to Calvis.

Hmmmm… I’m going to go ahead and assume you’re talking au where the cusps are still viable instead of the more established canon, so that I won’t have to fiddle with this and ruin your good fun.

If I were going to push it into the canon range, though, I would say that him just bein a standard violet who picks up the fuschia helm for his kismesis can work about as well.

And if I were suiting him to your au where dual blood traits present in trolls, I could definitely argue that with nowhere else to try to represent both sets of traits uniquely, his body just kinda fell in the middle.

Symbol and meaning: A combination of Eris and Pittarius from the extended zodiac. Eris is the goddess of chaos and discord from Greek mythology. Eris is also the name of the second largest dwarf planet in the orbit of the sun, just after Pluto.

Erises’ ma is Nyx, The Night, which is extra fitting. Child Of The Night is a great way to describe a void player. The planet Eris is also part of The Shattered Disk, which sounds cool as hell, and also means the planet has high eccentricity. Relatable, really.

Trolltag: cynicalTeuthida Cynical: Concerned only with one’s own interests and typically disregarding accepted or appropriate standards in order to achieve them. I mean. He kind of manipulated his kismesis into naming him the heir, just because he could.

Teuthida: Name of the taxonomic order containing squids. Mostly a reference to his lusus and 100% absolutely wholesome appreciation of tentacles.

I think we all need to wholesomely appreciate tentacles more, if I’m being honest. …But now I can’t stop thinking about Calvis having those weird New England Aquarium ad campaign posters hanging up in his room totally wholesomely.

Quirk:Because Calvis is a trollsona, he has sort of a simple quirk, based primarily around my personal manner of typing.

He types in almost exclusively lowercase, only capitalizing the first letter of words to emphasize them. He also has a tendency to misspell things by cutting off the last letter or last couple of letters. He surrounds his text in pointed brackets, but otherwise uses little punctuation besides commas. Expect a lot of typos from him in general, which he won’t really bother fixing.

CT: <the quick brown fox jumpped over the lazy dog>

Hmm. I do like it but I wonder if something more tentacly might be fun. {like using curly brackets instead}. It’s not really a big enough deal to stress over, but just a thought. }}=o Also check it out I Just made a betta fish.

Special Abilities:Like most seadwellers, Calvis is ridiculously strong. Probably even more so than average, given that I myself, as a puny human being, can lift about 400 lbs. He’s also able to withstand changing between salt and fresh water, actually preferring the briny water in the lake surrounding his hive to anything else.

The idea of an extra strong seadweller scares me because Feferi is capable of dragging a whale.

Lusus: L'lythro, a minor eldritch being that lives in a fish tank in the underwater portion of Calvis’ hive. L'lythro is known as the Denizen of Madness, and the source of the horrible whispers that fill the forest surrounding Calvis’ hive. Because of L'lythro’s terrible mutterings, the forest is believed to be haunted or cursed, known for driving lowbloods to madness or worse.

It’s hard to describe L'lythro as anything besides a graphical glitch in the universe, sometimes taking the form of an amorphous puddle of eyes, teeth, and slime, and sometimes taking the form of an abstract concept of patterns. Calvis doesn’t mind. He loves them no matter what nebulous and unknowable form they take. He actually wears one of L'lythro’s teeth on a chain as a necklace, which carries enough residual psychic discordance to give him an unsettling aura.

…A fun fact here is that while trying to google this name I discovered a “fossil fighters” character named The Gore King. That’s not relevant I just had to share or the knowledge would eat at my mind forever. Anyways I like this, continuing the tradition of eldritch lusii pals.

Personality: The best way to describe Calvis is ‘ecclectic’. He finds it hard to focus directly on one pursuit or another, flipping from interest to interest to endeavor to interest. Even now, as he nears the sweep of his conscription, his interests tend to branch out so much that it’s hard for him to even begin imagining what he could possibly make of himself…

So he doesn’t.

He spends most of his time collecting knowledge on whatever bits and bobs he can find, no matter how trivial, looking for some kind of validation of his intellect and talent. He reads and writes extensively, creating entire worlds he scraps once he’s become bored of them. He picks up games and hobbies like tabletop gaming and knitting only to drop them weeks or moments later. The only real consistency to him is the fact that he’s outright unpredictable.

He can come off as a bit cold and callous, not really caring about the emotional aspect of things until it directly involves him, in which case he will get much, much too involved. He can come off as overbearing in some situations, forcing his good will down others throats so he’ll have something to parade as evidence of his virtue.

Despite all of this absolute poncery, though, Calvis has quite a few good and sympathetic traits, no matter how much he lets them get overshadowed. He’s insightful and careful. He’s legitimately kind and gentle with the few trolls he can be bothered to care for (even including his kismesis at times). He’s just going through a bit of a rough time, nudging him gently toward his Crisis in one way or another.

I like how a lot of his traits come through as validation-seeking- which is a trait you mentioned up top but which really manages to carry through. I think if you want to carry the light/void theme and push his inversion, definitely increase his desire for Attention more. For Acknowledgement.

Interests: Calvis has many, many interests, but not so many that he’s actually stuck to.

He legitimately loves betta fish, especially for their bright colors and feisty attitudes. He has multiple fish tanks throughout the above-water portion of his hive, each tank filled with a small ecosystem dedicated to each of his fish. Most of them are named after snack foods. Don’t worry, he doesn’t eat them… just the fish flakes he feeds them. Don’t judge.

Calvis also enjoys collecting and decorating his hive with items of significant eldritch imagery. Teeth and eyes and tentacles are the motifs he chooses to decorate the walls of his hive with. Some of it comes off as quite lewd, not that he cares or notices much.

The rest of his interests, like collecting bladed weapons, knitting or crocheting, playing tabletop games, or writing, tend to be on-and-off. He picks them up again whenever he’s bored of what he was working on before.

Oof, cycling through interests is also relatable. He’s a fantroll, so I can’t exactly recommend More Interests. ……..Maybe roleplay-

Also sorry I’m just going to share one more of these ad posters because I can’t stop fucking looking at them.

Title: Bard of Void

Calvis acts more like a Maid of Light initially, relying on his kismesis for any real chance of power, yet finding luck and fortune a natural and powerful tool to his whims. He will leap at any opportunity to provide information about any topic he’s even remotely versed in, and he has a peculiar penchant for getting the right card or number when he needs to in games of chance, smirking sadistically all the while.

As he progresses in a session, or even matures as a person, he begins to accept the role of the unknown and mysterious, letting himself let go of his aggressive need to know everything, learning to go with the flow. He embraces the potential of the void, learning more about the origins of his lusus in the process. He loses out on some of his luck in the process, but like, yaknow, who cares about the outcome, man? It’s all the same in the end.

I know you’re not so keen about suggesting alternative god tiers for Trollsonas, but I did want to provide my reasoning.

I think even if we did tend towards suggesting alternatives for trollsonas, I definitely wouldn’t. Learning to embrace the void and kind of accepting the solace of the blank sheet and getting out of the need for the limelight, the need to take the reigns and try to guide others, the despair at not Knowing what the future holds or what he wants the future to hold… It’s definitely a good route for this trollsona, narratively.

Land: Land of Butterscotch and Tentacles

A massive desert of sugary tan sand populated by light purple Illithids, full of incomplete temples to the denizen Cthulhu. Calvis actually has two possible routes for his quest: completing the temples and receiving Cthulhu’s blessing, or dismantling them to free the Illithids from his control.

Ooh, always interesting. I do have to wonder why butterscoth tho, LOL. Sounds tasty.

Dream Planet: Derse? I prefer Derse just for the void connection and such.

Oh yeah, he’s super derse. Derse is in his blood.

Design:

Hhhonestly there’s not really a lot I would edit about his design? Violets/fuschias are high enough up that they can get away with wearing just about anything, really. If I had any recommendations, it might be to adjust the color of the undershirt or try out horns more similar to the traditional Heir Horns (hehe), but then I don’t know what Horn Rules you’re going by in your au.

Here you see me playing with changing his shirt color to a true tyrian. I think it makes more sense- it’s a way to acknowledge his kismesitude with the fuschia- and, since he’s trying to overtake the heir position, it makes most sense for him to try to visually associate himself with the fuschia role.

He’s a really well balanced trollsona! Thank you for sharing!

-CD

#chaoticevilfantrolls #calvis duvide #calvis #duvide #violetblood #fuschiablood #?#review #cd review #submission

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fox-in-the-stars · 7 years

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Akayona Magical Girls AU

Inspired by @akayonaladiesweek‘s prompts, I got sucked into worldbuilding a Magical Girls AU (which if the character designs cooperate might also fill the “Girls in Armor” prompt).

Read on for magical girls, rewritten origin legends, love-fueled superpowers, bowdlerized plot points and of course, adorable mascot-pet dragons!

In this version, the founding myth goes like this:

Long ago, five dragons lived under Heaven. The Red Dragon moved the fiery sun through the sky, the Green Dragon stirred the winds, the Blue Dragon sent the rain, the White Dragon sent dust to make the land, and the Yellow Dragon painted the sky morning and evening. The other dragons all had times to rest and play when their work was done, but the sun was always moving, and even when it sank below the horizon, the Red Dragon was busy all night moving it from west to east beneath the earth to have it ready for the next day. So the other four dragons said “Why do you never play with us? Why can’t the sun stop moving for a while?” and the Red Dragon said “That would be terrible for the ones down below.”

So the other four dragons, when they weren’t at work, looked down below, at the land where humans lived. They saw people fighting and stealing and lying. “These creatures are terrible,” they said. “We should destroy them. It will be a just punishment for their sins, and then our brother will be free to rest and play with us.”

So the four dragons went down toward the earth, but Heaven saw what they were doing. “Such merciless arrogance,” Heaven said. “These dragons must learn compassion. I will let them go down, but when they arrive they will be no greater than humans — they will lose their memory of heaven, and they will be weak and mortal until they learn to cherish their fellow creatures.”

This happened at noon, when the Red Dragon had pushed the sun up to its highest, and he was so close to heaven that he heard its words, and he was shocked. “Great Heaven,” he said, “I fear that my brothers’ punishment may only make them more bitter. Please, let me go to them.”

“But with a god to look after them, what will they learn?” Heaven asked.

“If my brothers are no greater than humans, then I too will be no greater,” said the Red Dragon. “Let me go down to earth as a human.”

And so it was. The Red Dragon left the sun and sky, earth and rain and wind in the care of Heaven, and he came down to earth as a human.

(chatty summarizing resumes) When he got there, he saw how much of human suffering was due to misrule and became the Red Dragon King after all and got into trouble like in the original version, but the other dragons couldn’t come down from heaven to save him. Although they’d lost their memories of heaven, they remembered their love for their brother, so they were drawn to help him, but first they had to learn their lesson — which they did by each bonding with a human girl (except maybe Yellow didn’t yet), Heaven decided to let them have some of their powers back because they were learning to love mortals but made it a shared power with the girls so the dragons wouldn’t get too full of themselves again, and thus the King was rescued by the first magical girls — called Dragon Guardians — and their divine dragon mascot-pets.

Yes, the dragons are the mascot-pets, and dragons who are no stronger than humans are adorable chibis as it turns out, but they’re the power unlockers. As a Dragon Guardian forms a stronger bond with one or more dragons, it unlocks her powers as well as theirs — so the powers are driven by character development and dynamics, which strikes me as both fun and true to the genre. At a certain level the dragons become able to transform into humans, and then there’ll be like a final ultimate level where they can appear as awesome godlike full-sized dragons.

(For practical purposes, though, I may need some kind of item that can unlock a base level of power, since I want more Guardians than I can supply dragons for. Current idea: the origin story rescue involves a climactic moment where all the dragons, possibly including red, go into their full-sized dragon god modes, but then they decide to humble themselves to keep living among mortals and they “shed their scales” which they literally did and the scales are the items of power, which are in limited supply but there are way more than four of them, and the priests usually have the job of managing them. Bonus in that dragon scales could be incorporated into all sorts of magical-girl-y fashion accessories.)

Anyway, moving forward to the present, since the dragons were “made mortal,” we have had generations of them (except for Yellow); being magical girl mascot pets I don’t think they reproduce sexually, a new one just appears, although when they get into human form romantic complications with humans are entirely possible.

On the one hand I want to stay relatively true to the canon story because that approach is more interesting to me personally, but on the other hand I think making this a proper magical girl story does call for some bowdlerizing. So here’s ideas:

No Game of Thrones stuff, firstly. The big political conflict is that Kai has heard about the Dragon Guardian powers and wants them. Yuhon hated the Dragon Guardian business and raised Soo-won to hate and disbelieve it. This will probably be a long-game reveal, but the deal is that Yonhi was actually a Dragon Guardian and is in such poor health after being wounded in battle because the priests gave her a scale and said she was supposed to do this shit, so there’s a grudge (see also kicking out priests — although maybe it was Yuhon who got her into that battle and his lashing out is guilt-driven). At any rate, Soo-won is very invested in not believing in and certainly not relying on the dragon guardian powers. In this version Yuhon lost the war and was captured, and when Il went to negotiate, he was also captured (possible brothers’ reconciliation in captivity?), and as a result Soo-won just straight-up inherited the throne at a young age, which I think he could handle honestly, and he and Yona are probably betrothed at this point just to sew it up extra neat and tidy. What sets off the story this time, I’m thinking an agent from Kai came and tried to kidnap Yona because they’d found out from her father that she was both an incarnation of the Red Dragon and a guardian — ie, the ultimate super-powered magical girl, potentially — and they tried to kidnap her for use as a WMD. Afterward she and Soo-won had a difference of opinion about how to deal, she made up her own mind to go on this quest, find out if these powers were real, and if so use them to help her people and rescue her Dad and Uncle and stuff, and of course Hak’s gonna go with her.

So the love triangle is going to be less of a foregone conclusion. Soo-won loses points early with his inability to accept what’s becoming important to her and let her use her own power. He’s too smart to be a flat-earth atheist when he actually sees the sparkles and mascot pets, which might create some uncertainty, but I’m thinking it’s like a thematic thing where for all his genuine virtues, Soo-won under his father’s influence wants to just protect Yona while Hak wants to support her, and Hak’s still gotta win that one.

Setting out on their quest they probably still meet Ik-su and pick up Yoon, and I’m thinking Ik-su gives Yona a dragon scale to get her started. And then we gather the dragons! We’re still going to have secret villages, because people wanting to take the dragons away to utilize their powers is still very much a thing. I haven’t decided about their canon powers — probably for ease of handling I’ll say those still apply when they become able to take human form, or that unlocking human-form-with-canon-powers is the next level past that.

Kija is still being pampered in his village — without the icky sexual coercion subplot this time (yay bowdlerizing) — and he will still totally fight you. He bites Hak a lot in the beginning. (Also having the thought that when we meet him Hak’s like “what is that, a snake?” but he has more moe proportions and a certain amount of fluff and little legs sticking out and Yona thinks he looks more like an ermine actually, so this time Hak ends up giving him the even-worse nickname “White Weasel.”)

Shin-ah is still neglected and alone, although I’m not sure yet how the problem of his power translates. It could be pretty direct, caused by a previous generation where a blue dragon bonded with a Guardian enough to use the scary canon powers leading to the belief about cursed eyes, but it would be awhile before we could see it in action. And we could still swing a mask of some sort if desired, like we could find him hooded like a falcon. I suspect it’ll be extra challenging to get him to turn human even after he should be able to. On the upside, though, he and little Ao are, like, closer to the same size, so we’re in for some serious cuteness overload with them.

Jae-ha enters a lot like he does in canon — which is possible because Gigan is a guardian. Because of their bond she can do cool superpowered stuff and he can take human form and use his canon powers. This also means that him going with Yona means Gigan giving up her powers (well, some of them, we can leave her with a scale — Yona wouldn’t need one anymore at that point — and she’s got a lot of Badass Normal going on too). It also means Jae-ha accepting being a mascot critter at least for a while, but that was less of a sticking point than his canon issues, which were pretty much same (although as a mascot critter he doesn’t have wrists or ankles to speak of so it was that they’d put a collar on him). This also adds to he and Gigan’s bits of mentorship toward the other dragons and Yona respectively, since they actually have years of experience with how this whole Guardian thing works. (Also in the Awa arc I may bowdlerize the human trafficking bit and it’s that Kum-ji is shipping dragon scales out, so more analogous to smuggling WMD.)

And Zeno’s still Zeno, although again bowdlerizing. Backing up to the origin myth, when the four dragons decided to destroy the humans, actually the Yellow Dragon was like “No, that would be horrible, let’s—” ::the other three all look at him:: “—let’s just hurt ‘em kinda bad.” So because he went along he shared in their punishment, but because his was a failure not of compassion but of courage, his punishment is somewhat different. He wasn’t made mortal like the others, and while he can work with a guardian, he can also use more of his power on his own when he shows courage — actually a stricter condition than getting himself grievously hurt, honestly. And Kaya was totally a guardian.

(In thinking of the mascot critter character designs, I’m imagining each of the chibi dragons having their own style of horns. Kija’s will be sort of perky upcurved antlers, Shin-ah’s will look like the horns of his mask, Jae-ha’s are more straight and angular antlers, and Zeno’s are curled like a sheep.)

We can also still have a version of the Fire Tribe arc conflict where Soo-jin is basically the “c’mon use the nukes” guy who plots against Soo-won because he does believe in the dragon guardian powers and wants to use them to crush Kouka’s enemies (like did you even get what that origin legend was about?).

And we get to have more of the female cast be guardians/magical girls! Lili, I’m really thinking so — although I’d prefer to leave Ayura and Tetra as Badass Normals to prove that women don’t need magic to kick ass. Maybe Tao — which would be a curveball since she’s not from Kouka, but that could be a good thing. And of course, to get to their full potential powers, they’d have to join up and have character development and form bonds with everybody…

Hmm, anyone else? Maybe a job for OCs…

#akayona #magical girls #cute chibi dragons #bowdlerized plot points #silliness #akatsuki no yona

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