#in the biz we call that a power move

[rhinocio]

but if you're a dinosaur and I'm a dinosaur then who's driving the evolution

@r3xcorvus' eagle oc Payne is such a little guy

#literally nobody asked for this even iggy but I made it anyway #in the biz we call that a power move #anyway I'm soft about these two idiots #michelangelo #ROTTMNT #TMNT #that's a spicy meatball #payne #paykey #shaking the bird man WHY ARE YOU SO HARD TO DRAW #rhinociart #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise oc

[isozyme]

Hi hiiiii have you seen this and if so, how do you feel? I still have no idea what went down but im growing more curious by the day.

https://at.tumblr.com/c4tth3w/the-way-he-says-no-and-im-good/tmm0epqxauqh

I TOO FEEL SO CURIOUS

lemme do a quick transcript of the relevant parts for anyone who doesn't feel like watching a barstool video clip

Biz (talking about darryl sutter publicly throwing shade at matthew): no love lost there? like it's -- Matthew: awh -- you guys know i'm not allowed to talk [about] that stuff Biz: come on, are you serious? wow, okay, shit, i didn't -- so like had you called darryl at some point to let him know you weren't coming back or like, Matthew: ...no. Biz: okay. oh shit. Matthew (continuing): no. that was more of a, that was, that was, Biz (singing): moving on, moving on Whitney (crosstalk): i feel like people wouldn't be calling coaches though biz, i mean maybe, it's like -- but you don't talk to the coach about shit like that Biz: no i thought maybe you'd go work a day on the farm and let him know softly Whitney: yeah yeah yeah Biz: maybe have a big cookout at the end and sing kumbaya Matthew: i'm good.

it's really more delicious to hear it though. there's some vocal fry on that first ...no that speaks volumes about why he hasn't called. matthew is pretty much openly declaring he has nothing nice to say about sutter here. (biz is on this gossip like stink on cheese, he's immediately surprised and curious why a guy like tkachuk who's usually very careful and positive about coaches and staff isn't sticking to the empty platitudes script)

here's my speculation: matthew isn't the most defensively responsible player, he's a power forward who wants to hover behind the other team's net, jam in cool goals, and skate as little as possible because skates make his feet hurt. sutter wants disciplined, two-way players. i think there were perhaps some conflicts between the flames flashy goals-goals-goals top wingers and their frowny no-fun-allowed coach. i imagine that a player like matthew has a lot less fun if he gets told to shape the fuck up and stop taking penalties and trying between the legs shots

hypothetically, also, you could maybe, talk about how matthew is...um...lispy (and johnny is small, if you want to consider the other half of the debacle). it's possible sutter likes his guys a bit less emotional and a bit more masculine. and some of that came down on matthew

no matter how you look at it, over the off season the heart of the flames sliced itself out of alberta and left. from the way the team is playing now, their team vibes haven't really recovered. something was going pretty wrong in that room, and we aren't going to know what it was but i can still HAVE MY LITTLE THEORIES

#isozyme answers #what happened to ur locker room lil buddies #why is it so rancid #this fascinates me

[shadowonwater]

The Other One: Chapter 3 (Pokemon Fanfic)

Ao3

First | Previous | Next

“Look Boo Woo, I want you on my team but you have to be a team player! You can’t just attack one of the other team members!” Trainer was scolding Jin Jin. It was just a couple of minutes after the incident. And now the two of them were on the far side of the campsite, away from where the picnic was being held. Jin Jin could see Flip Flap talking to the intruder while Biz Biz eyed Jin Jin suspiciously all the way from where he was.

“So you can eat over here for now, but I want you to be able to join us all in the future. So please try to get along with the team!” Jin Jin jumped a little when Trainer put the food bowl down in front of them a little too hard. Trainer turned and left, fists balled just slightly. Jin Jin’s head followed as he left. When Trainer got to the picnic he turned his head to look back. Jin Jin quickly swiveled their head to face down towards the food.

The food was the same as it always had been. It wasn’t like it was different bowl-to-bowl, Trainer always bought Pokemon food that was made specifically for bugs because he only used bugs. Maybe it was a little petty to attack another Pokemon purely over the bowl… but it was about the principle of the matter. All the same Jin Jin wanted to eat, so he started eating. Even if Boo Woo wasn’t their name.

Movement on the other side caught Jin Jin’s attention, Biz Biz had gotten up and was making his way towards Jin Jin, stingers halfway raised in a threatening position. Jin Jin was already shrinking away, they hadn’t even started anything this time!

“Biz Biz!” Trainer called loudly, “I said no fighting!”

Biz Biz paused and lowered his stingers. He rolled his eyes and muttered “fine, fine.” He didn’t head back to the picnic though, he kept heading towards Jin Jin. They watched in apprehension, food forgotten as Biz Biz slowly drew closer. Then Biz Biz stopped just a foot away from them.

“I’ll let this pass for now, but only just this once.” Biz Biz bent his head down to eye level with Jin Jin. “If you ever try to attack Jin Jin again, I’ll make you a double ghost.” He then poked one of his stingers lightly on Jin Jin’s body.

Jin Jin would normally be too terrified to do anything more than stammer and freeze. But the Beedrill calling the intruder ‘Jin Jin’ snapped them out of it. “Jin Jin? Jin Jin?! I’m Jin Jin!” They moved closer to Biz Biz’s face with every word. “I don’t know what sort of freaky powers that weird other bug has, but it’s making everybody think that it’s me! And clearly you're no exception! That little Rattata is trying to steal my life!”

Biz Biz looked about ready to hit Jin Jin before a strange look crossed his face. “Hey… so you say you’re Jin Jin?” Jin Jin nodded. “Then from your perspective… what happened when you evolved?”

The squirming sensation was back in their memory. “Uhhh…uhhh.” There was no way Jin Jin could tell any other about that, they weren’t sure even where to begin. “Ummm…”

“Well spill it out! Answer, or you’re lying.”

“Well… I… had a bad headache… then…”

“Then what!”

“Then ahh…” Jin Jin was starting to tear up, Biz Biz was taken aback “Umm, it was. Really painful.” Jin Jin was starting to shake. “And um… um…”

“Alright! Alright! Calm down.” Biz Biz said, “Well Jin…”

“Jin Jin.”

“Right. Of course you still insist on going by your full name, even after all this.” Biz biz rolled his eyes. “Well Jin Jin… do you know anything about Nincada evolution? I assumed you did, because you were one.”

“Uh. No”

Biz Biz put the back of his stinger on his head akin to a human putting a hand on their forehead, and sighed. “Jin Jin. You’re the shell.” When they tilted their head in confusion at him Biz Biz elaborated. “You know how when me and Flip Flap first evolved, we became a shell first?” They nodded. “And when we evolved again, we left behind a discarded shell?” They didn’t like where this was going, but nodded again. “Nincada do form a shell when they evolve, sort of. Rather their already existing body becomes a shell to break out of.” Biz Biz looked at them, they didn’t nod this time. “Well… apparently Nincada shells are weird because they become sentient. But it’s a separate entity from the evolved Nincada.” Biz Biz looked at them weirdly. “Or at least they are supposed to be different.”

“What do you mean!” Jin Jin was starting to get angry. It sounded like Biz Biz was saying Jin Jin wasn’t Jin Jin afterall! It seemed that Biz Biz was saying that Jin Jin was just a discarded shell. This better not be what the Beedrill was insinuating. Biz Biz better be meaning something else, and Jin Jin just misunderstood. Jin Jin couldn’t just be a shell. Jin Jin was Jin Jin.

“I think I’m being very clear here. I’m calling you Jin Jin because I know you like it but you’re not really him, he’s over there.” Biz Biz pointed his stinger at the intruder still munching on food in Jin Jin’s bowl, So rude, that’s not its bowl. “You’re more like a weird copy of him, a shadow. You have his memories but you aren’t really him. I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But you’re going to have to get used to it. I’ll call you Jin since it’s at least close to Jin Jin, but don't expect our trainer to start calling you that”

Jin Jin had never wanted more in his life to attack someone. They thought that the bowl incident earlier was a lot. But this feeling was far stronger. How dare their friend say something so cruel. Hot burning rage. Tears blurring their vision. Why did this cruel turn of events happen? What god would decide that it was a good decision to let a used up cocoon come to life? Biz Biz had to have been lying, had to have been fooled, had to have been misinformed. Jin Jin knew he was Jin Jin, if he wasn’t then what was he?

“Go away!” Jin Jin couldn’t put together any other words. “Go away! Go away! Go away!”

“Okay… okay… I’m going. I’ll let you have some time to think.” Biz Biz started to fly away but paused “Oh and attacking your counterpart still isn’t cool, but I can at least see where you’re coming from. So I forgive you. But seriously, chill out. Maybe hang out with the other one? You might find you have a lot in common.” Biz Biz smiled and chuckled a little. He then joined the main picnic.

Jin Jin didn’t think that was funny. It wasn’t funny at all. Jin Jin had known Biz Biz for at least a year, they had always thought of him as protective and kind, like some sort of knight in chitin armor. Maybe Jin Jin was wrong, maybe Biz Biz was actually an ass. Well Jin Jin could have been wrong but “Jin” or “Boo Woo”, or whatever people try to call him now, knew the truth. Jin Jin was still Jin Jin but they could be a Jin Jin that knew slightly better than the old one did. They could also know more than the other one does.

They wondered what Flip Flap thought, as well as Trainer. Did they all think Jin Jin was really just a shell? Or rather they thought “Boo Woo” was a shell? They probably did. And now Biz Biz was going to tell them that the silly violent husk thought it was the real deal. And then they would all laugh at him. The other one, the “real” Jin Jin, would find it funniest of all. That imposter would realize its devious little plan was working and then laugh its little heart out.

Well let them, for now. Jin Jin would find proof that Biz Biz was wrong, and reveal the imposter for what it was. Then everything would go back to normal. Maybe Biz Biz would be nice again? Maybe the imposter was just messing with his head? Jin Jin looked back over to the picnic. Biz Biz was clearly telling some story, he always got expressive with his stingers like that well telling a story. Flip Flap was looking increasingly worried as Biz Biz went on. The imposter's face was impossible to see at this angle, but its body was tense.

Biz Biz looked up and saw Jin Jin watching them. He said something to the others and pointed one of his stingers at Jin Jin. There was one time that Flip Flap had found a dead Caterpie when they were traveling. She was so sad but muttered that there was nothing they could do for it, it was in Arceus’s hands. She looked at Jin Jin with that very same look. Worry and pity etched into her eyes, like she was looking at some sad little thing.

The imposter took longer to turn its head, and they had tensed up further when Biz Biz pointed. Slowly with rickety movements it twisted around. Jin Jin couldn’t hear anything from over here but couldn’t help but to imagine the sound of old hinges on a door. Jin Jin had expected merriment and amusement on its face, but it looked like it had seen a ghost when it looked at him.

Jin Jin vaguely remembered the same look when it first saw him after he? they? evolved. If Jin Jin were to entertain Biz Biz’s idea, they supposed it could make sense. If he had evolved and climbed out of a… shell. Squirming, Squirming, Squirming Jin Jin wouldn’t think of it. Then Jin Jin would also be scared by his shell coming to life. Of course this didn’t mean that the imposter was him. It just meant the imposter was good at acting! Jin Jin was Jin Jin, and there was nothing some imposter could do about it!

#shedinja #pokemon fanfic

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Vigilante Part Five

When Aizawa showed up with the pros, he didn’t have time to grab you before you were gone again. He’d tried his hardest. But he saw the look on your face. Not so much like you believed he didn’t try, but that you’d resigned to the fact that he failed you. And that didn’t sit well with him.

When you were essentially dropped into the Nomu factory, you actually weren’t expecting it. Not many things actually surprised you anymore, but this one did catch you off guard. You blamed the blow to the head you’d taken. You could feel the danger senses rising, and you knew the guy Shigaraki and Kurogiri had talked about was here. How were you going to get out of this?

When All Might showed up, you were just waiting for a chance to run. If you could get out of the building, you’d be out of the way. But All for One kept pushing back against the number one hero, keeping the two of them between you and your escape. And then the wall near you shook with the force of a small explosion, and a very familiar head of pink hair popped up, “Hey gear head! Let’s get moving! I didn’t bring enough explosives to deal with villains.” You were almost amused with her. Despite not being a hero in training, she came to your rescue.

“Hatsume!” You rushed to her, never looking away from the villains in the room, “What the hell are you doing? I thought you said I was the one with the death wish!”

She snorted as she helped you through the hole, the two of you running down an alley, “Your sugary friend called me. I guess he realized I had trackers in all the projects I had worked on. I didn’t have time to input the parameters for a specific equipment search, so I just had to find the cluster that was together. You.”

“You track us?”

“Duh. When I get into the biz, I want to be able to have exact locations to dispatch medics when the heroes need them.”

When the two of you got back to UA, Aizawa and Power Loader were waiting for you. You watched her suppress a grimace, knew that she wouldn’t have gotten clearance for the rescue, and you stepped in front of her to bow to the teachers. “I’m sorry. I’ll take my punishment, and hers.”

Aizawa watched you as you stood up straight, curious but confused. You were taken, you didn’t walk into their hands willingly. “Why would you be punished?”

“I…” You weren’t sure what to say. He could see your brain working, trying to come up a reason. “I am the reason she was in harms way. I could’ve gotten away in the forest, but I didn’t.”

“And why didn’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms, he already knew the reason. He heard the report from the other boys already. He just wanted to see if you’d admit it.

You went wide eyed, “I-I-I…” you sighed, resigning yourself to the truth, “I just wanted to keep them safe.”

The teachers shared a look, cracking the barest of smiles on their faces, “We know, problem child. We’re just glad you could finally say it out loud. As for punishment…you’ll both be on cleaning duty for the month.” Neither of them gave you a chance to reply before Aizawa ruffled your hair and they walked away. You blinked at Hatsume, but she just grinned a mischievous smile.

“I’ll take care of the cleaning.” You offered, “You can just tinker away in the lab, I just have a question. How did you know where to put the explosive?”

She pointed to her eyes, “I knew the primary location would be handled, so I waited on a building for your location to change and I just looked.” Stretching her arms above her head, she winked, “Now, you’ve got boy trouble, my good sir. Sweet tooth was really worried about you.”

You snorted, “Are you ever going to learn everyone’s names?”

She shrugged, bouncing away as she called over her shoulder, “Probably not!”

Walking into the dorms, your classmates immediately set their sights on you. Worried were expressed, arms wrapped around you, sentiments spoken, but they all faded to background noise when Sato caught your eye. Everyone stopped talking as you moved, for the first time pulling someone else into an embrace first, instead of just reciprocating it.

You had come here as a vigilante, alone in the world you knew.

But you were going to leave as a hero, with a love you never thought you could have, friends you never could’ve wished for, and a mentor that made you see it was possible.

Vigilante Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#my hero academia #my hero academia x male reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero fanfic #sato x male reader #vigilante reader #Quirkless reader

[marketingprofitmedia]

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[minmin-pal]

woah, it's definitely going on my watch list now, few posts i've seen talking or reviewing jjba always used complicated gargon so i could never properly pay attention to what they were saying but reading your post was v nice and i can assume you like it a lot, when did you start watching if i could ask?(/notforced)

also thank you for avoiding the spoilers lol, i'm tempted to search up spoilers but now i just wanna enjoy this series and the manga properly so i'll avoid those (really the only 'spoiler' i've ever seen is the "it's me dio" meme, if that even counts as a 'spoiler'?) 

out of curiosity i just searched what j giel looked like, interesting design choices? ig? ;; (/halfjoke) but once again ty for the major spoilers warning, i'm kind of itching to find out for myself now haha

i never realized the artstyle of jjba has changed so much actually? i've seen late 3-early 4 artstyle so finding out about this style diversity is actually so cool, it really matches the years they were in well, early part 1 reminds of me some of the hero comics i've seen from around those years as well. this chart manages to show the changes v well though, it looks so pretty

and now that you mention it, kira dude does look like david bowie now that i think about it, and woah he has an entire season/arc? is he a major character or some kind? (/genquestion) i'm looking forward to watching that season now, the 'slice of life/detective drama' combo sounds interesting and i've never thought to combine those before so i'm hyped (/gen)

i just searched rohan and joseph's designs too, they look super cool! could I ask whose your favorite and disliked characters in csm?

(long post,,,,, dont press read more if u dont really care cuz . long post)

yes it should!!!11! i started watching/reading it in... 2019/2020 i think. it was when i lived in my old house so it was sometime around there my brother actually recommended it to me!! we watched it together, and we've watched every season (other than the latest- stone ocean. we watched it separately for that one) together and it honestly probably is part of why i love it so much because i generally associate him with it haha

you shouldnt spoil it AT ALLL its such a great series and stone ocean was so bad for me because i already knew the entire ending (cuz i read the manga) so watching the anime. was intensely sorrowing because it was all so stunningly beautiful and heart moving and yada yada but i knew what was gonna happen!!! all the suspense was gone!!!

and and and. i feel like even with j geil it just shows how DYNAMIC or whatever the art style is.. like

hes DISGUSTING but it fits!!! even when you watch the show the overall style change may really not register until you sit back and think aboutit because its like a gradual switch, a really pretty switch though since it really just shows the magaka (hirohiko araki) growing and learning with the series its really beautiful

im slightly sure kira was based off him but i really cant be sure his design can 100% be since alot of things in the show starting part 3 i think are like references to bands and songs-- kira for example's power, killer queen, like the song by queen has a power called bites the dust and sheer heart attack, just like the albums/songs from queen aswell its really smart isnt it?? and kira really is important. i wont elaborate but hes really important in season 3/part 4 (season one has the first two parts, "phantom blood" and "battle tendency" then every part after is its own season-- probably because part 1 and 2.. well.. are different to the rest- youll see why) if u watch it youll either love him cuz hes kinda lovable when u ignore his Biggest "Flaw" (a character flaw, like a trait not flaw as in story flaw). or youll love him cuz every scene with him atleast to me is really. uhh i forgot the word in english : D enthralling? rohans designs are honestly. the best designs in jojo to me and the main reason for that is kinda cuz theyre pretty not bizarre (in comparison.)

it also has to do with part 4's coloring aswel, like i cant find the image but his hair is just. blue one time (and purple i think) just cuz they never really do that uch after part4 which is so sad.. but its okay because it makes part 4 more unique also. rohans outfits change it might not seem like much but rohans outfits. change probably becuz hes araki's self insert so hes always making him cool (like in stone ocean where,,, uhh.. basically something happens and time is speeding up a bit, and no mangakas can make manga becuz their ink drys up too fast, and rohan is the only mangaka whos still pushing out manga- cuz of his powers) Im. rambling. UHH ive started chainsaw man only recently so i cant go as in depth as jojo but once ive finished. well if i finish ill definitely have new opinions for now though i love kobeni

shes just. she shes!! MEE :sob: shes just so relatable i love her so much (SAME WITH ASA. BUT I JUST. LIKE KOBENI MORE) i also HAVE to say i like denji for the same reason i like joseph really hes just hilairious (though it really depends on your sense of humor. if u dont like dark...? i wouldnt say dark... humor, but definitely not for like. 12 year old or something you know. u might not like denji- or csm in general

the character i dislike has to be...... uh makima i guess i wont say why cuz. MAJOR SPOILERS!! but shes kinda :thumbsdown: to me HER WRITINGS GOOD AND I LIKE. HER EXISTING but as a person.......

#min-pal.asks #SORRY THIS TOOK ME TOO LONG I WAS BEING! EMO! #mikey 🍮

[artcalledtattoo]

How Much

How much power is needed

Empty a vessel

Take all you need

Rape a vessel of energy

Bone us grabbers

You sleep well

Left out at clock out

How much is needed for Family

Thank a lower provider

The gifts are not from you

But what you take

Fake it to love ones

You did this

Money bonus love

New bank notes

Keeping it paid

As you decided

Just how much?

Is enough

My muscles growing

Because of you

My health

Better than you

And yet I have to look up

See you

In my playing field

As you decided

Just how much?

Is enough

My handlers

Living large in accounts & body

You dog you dodged

Watch those hearts of yours?

(minus) -

- Oxygen not getting to brain already seems stroked

- Clogged arteries feels like an attack to flow of things

- I use people for a bonus and don’t care if they work as two or three

- A life, they were probably fired and not left for dead

- I clock in and sit, phishing throw emails on an hourly clock

- It all manages itself

- A door knob, 2315 hours stand at a door to let workers have lunch

- Does always take two

- Manager holding hands managing together

- The bullshit

- 5:30 am clock out time like last year but not allowed to clocked out nor can one let themselves out

- Bending, your smile to my reaming, as you

- Continuing of the raping of personal time

- Tell that to spouse and kids

- Mm feels abused by all of you

- He (mm) provided bonus

- Where’s his fucking Thank You Card

- Last year no bonus or donut (K provided one, and I blessed him and thanked him, in my rung on a ladder

- Non higher ups

- Lost souls , dirt, cope, snakes & Faermance, natural parks & the demons all managerial materials

- Fuck them all, let God sort-’em out! In body the physical, the soul corrupted in bonus grappling (I Was A Warlord in Basic Training, the shit bounces back & later Art of War wince Guerrilla Marketing a community biz asso. gift by raffle, to rape pillage & destroy, woah like Trump, Putin now)n

- You have a nice ride, does you bitch suck she should be blowing me also & swallowing

- Most of US should have been digested for a better planet Earth

- We have readers digest

- Sweeter when I look into your eyes. You should have been big gulped!

- When I work and not in music or even life I’ll play tonight

- Tempo

How Much?

I just dropped a quarter

Call a friend

Fuck you, Prunts

I am your God

Should I make tonight, all feeling out of place, I never set placemats, fuck entertainment, like a slap. You go slave!

Set up to fail

But your black.............man

Lethal weapon ozone song

I’m a slave to their damned Souls

Conglomerates

&

Blackened Souls

How much?

You need from Me, alone thy self, all tied not swallowed experiencing living it’s all in an eduction, you always pulled over, not in my view but no ride on the West side, I wouldn’t know, I know a city, paid by Taxes

And a lot of sorry fucks voted in Trump, am I looking at you, and farming tax evaders; ohh you provide to community

What the fuck is your farm?

Audits could be made; all would land as crooks

Raping of America but fam got cool presents last year Christmas

I’m not fucking done yet, I spit just upon maneuvers in the managers up above •

That’s me in a symbol

Minus

Column

Let me squill about on days doubled hand holders, they so special can’t manage by themselves, two to unlock doors, fucking two with this and that, but can’t equal out workloads or manage to get US out on clock out, I’ve fucking have bitched about this before, add raping to a sign and me move at my tempo, you took so far this year 6 hours of my time, Martians, lows,

Sorry fucks, 2023, more Rated R words to come later on ya’ll, let the misses know, or jump to California or resign, your leadership in faces on a wall says to me

Takers

Rhymes with _ _ _ _ _ _

Hanging the UP, raped America of Taxes

Trump,

death raping lives in Ukraine

Putin,

Like up up above behind walls

Xi

Fucking over its own country and bouncing to start a side War with just Up Putin

Fuck all three

To Much like my Uppers

I work in a single building

Government nation and state fucted

Look at water pipes

And shut the.............

Conglomerate Business Major Player

Slow as tortious martian rhymes

I don’t know all Faces but know your types in my land on Earth 2.5 miles work and home Universe

Just too much!

I want to carve in ice a Wion Pulse playing!

Whining heart pulse but alive & breathing!

Could not post from notes and added hastags

Denied, all typings worthless, no post

So i above copied and pasted into Tumblr and now too pissed to add hashtags, like a (worknite ) must add later after birds and nicotine

#wordsbymm #fucking one #how much #a call out #am I making energy #clock outs #gifts #bonus #health #play field #handlers #oxygen #door knob #t u card #Faermance #on Earth #big gulp #slap #taxes #Putin Trump Xi #looking at you #taxing you all

[audio-luddite]

Phono Pickups / Cartridges.

I have a few. More than I need.

Getting into the vinyl thing phono cartridges are a basic essential. They can be cheap or so expensive "that if you have to ask....."

I have heard a few. Not that many compared to what is available, but certainly a representative sample of the art.

Here is a clumsy narrative of my journey.

I started out seeking advice and hints from magazines and store salespeople. My first turntable was a Dual with a Shure M91ED cartridge that came in the package. It was OK to actually good. I was pleased with it for some time, as I really did not know better.

My next step was a Shure V15 III in a Grace 707 tonearm. In the mid 70s that was a magic combination promoted by the Gurus at TAS magazine as close to SOTA. (TAS=The Absolute Sound) It was seriously good. Frankly my system was good, but not yet high end.

Several years and a few thousand miles later I got an Audio Technica Signet TK7E which was better than the then old Shure. At that time I had monoblock tube amplifiers and a tube preamp and my first truly ambitious Speaker Tower. It was a deliberate upgrade. I was getting high endish.

That stayed in service for a long time. I was not interested in fiddling and tweaking the front end. I just wanted to listen to my LPs.

Then a problem emerged partly due to the "death of vinyl". Signets was no longer around. The availability and selection of new styli was drying up. If you do not keep the tiny diamonds fresh they will damage the records.

So I embarked on a search for replacements. That was a rabbit hole.

I explored the highly promoted world of Moving Coils. I did not have gobs of money so I did not get very expensive ones. I recall one called an AZDEN GM-1 which was high output as my preamp could not handle low output. I just looked that one up and you can still get them for $350 bucks and up. I did not care for it that much. No others were memorable.

Old names such as Pickering were out of business. Mr Pickering invented phono cartridges, as we know them, because he was dissatisfied with the quality of recording playback. He died a few years ago, even though I see ads for various models none are new as far as I can tell. Also I never saw them on any of the good stuff lists. Replacement parts are spotty, or out of production.

Shure is gone from the phono cartridge biz, though still in business with Microphones and the like. Some are available as New Old Stock. NOS in phono cartridges is not a good thing generally. The cantilevers are mounted in a flexible material that may not age well. Also it may not be truly new, but certainly old. There is a supply of new styli from several places so If you find a Shure body you can probably get it working. But first check out the prices for those styli! When I got my Phase Linear turntable there was a Shure cartridge on it. I sold it with my Sony Turntable.

My friend had an ADC XLM back in School and it was on good stuff lists. In fact it was a TAS favorite before they drank the moving coil kool aid. ADC was sold to a big company in the late 70s and survived a few years as a brand name.

Grado started up in the 50s. They are still around and very respected. Arguably they have the most experienced designer / fabricator on the Planet in Mr Grado who started in the firm as a kid working for his uncle. I had a Grado years ago and have two right now.

I have never had an Ortofon. They are very respected and the largest company in the world for phono Cartridges. They are also over 100 years old. Many people like them a lot.

There is an outlier in the DECCA cartridge. DECCA is a British electronics company, that came up with a unique solution. It is a different approach to moving iron MI aka induced magnetic. It is still manufactured under license as the "London DECCA" Cartridge. They are over $1k and loved by those so smitten. I have never heard one, but am curious.

Then there is AT. Audio Technica is a Japanese power house. They make a HUGE selection of phono cartridges in two major flavors. Moving Coil and Moving Magnet. The MM types have two tiny magnets bonded to the cantilever that vibrate between two sets of coils. I bought a few of those as my much loved Signets was a luxury brand of AT. I have three ATs that are rumored to be descended from the Signets. Of course Internet Rumors are so reliable.

I found that an ATN12s Stylus fits the Signet TK7 so it is usable again.

My current Stable is : (AT)Signets TK7e, AT 440 mla. AT7V, Grado 3 Green, and Grado Opus 3.

The others are gone. I may still have a AT95 something in a box.

All the ATs are moving magnets. All the Grados are moving iron.

I have convinced myself that moving coils are not good if you are after accuracy. That from the firm resolve of people who still cut LPs and have the master tape right there, never use those to check their work. I think it was Doug Sax who said; " I like moving coils but only on other peoples turntables."

Moving Iron may be the best method used. Grado use it as does Sound Smith and their top of the lines are candidates for the best there is. It can be very low mass and boasts stupid high frequency response.

So looping back to the start. The simplest entry to these things is to get current production from either Grado, Audio Technica, or Ortofon. I believe the best value is in Grado as the least expensive is pretty good. If anything gets you into vinyl that is a good thing.

If you have lots on money the Top of the Line Grado and Soundsmith are worth looking for.

Here is a good place to shop: https://www.lpgear.com/

Cheers!

#vinyl lps #vinyl rules #phono pickups #phono cartridges #grado #Shure #Ortofon

[huenjin]

don't wanna be friends.

pairing: hyunjin x reader | bff2l!au, pornstar!au

word count: 3.705 words

tw: pornstar!hyunjin, nsfw content — dick piercing!hyunjin, multiple orgasms, breast play, breath play, fingering, cunnilingus, marking, penetration, unprotected sex, dumbification, slight overstimulation, creampie, mentions of reader masturbating to hyunjin's porn and the porn explained in detail.

music rec: damage is done | devin hoffman.

note: this was an nsfw ask originally but it got way past the limit, so tada, made it into a oneshot. if anyone was wondering why it's in this format/theme. unedited, like every other work of mine.

you gulp down the next shot under hyunjin's watchful supervision. you've lost count of the shots you have taken and hyunjin has lost count of how many times he has told you to stop, that you are drinking too much.

"he told me that i can't fuck right. that i should at least pretend to fake it to satiate him," you scoff, another tear rolling down from the brim of your eyes and hyunjin wraps his arms around you, pulling into him to comfort you. "i can't— jinnie, i just don't come when he fucks me. i— maybe something is wrong with me. maybe i just can't orgasm when someone—"

"hush," hyunjin slowly taps your back to keep your thoughts shut. "there's nothing wrong with you, minion. you're fine." he pushes your big round spectacles up, calling you by the name he's always teased you with.

you slam the shot glass down, eyes groggy and head woozy from all the drinks you've gulped down. you lean forward, eyes wide open, glasses sliding down as you look closely at your best friend.

hwang hyunjin is attractive. you've always known your best friend is attractive. his bright eyes that light up at the sight of his dog, kkami, running to him right after you cuddled kkami forever. or the way his face morphs into one of disgust when you threaten to put eggplants into his plate. or the way he'd cuddle you when the weather gets too cold. hyunjin is attractive, both in looks and behaviour.

beyond this, your best friend, hwang hyunjin, is insatiable in the eyes of many women and men, including yours. a pornstar by profession, he knows the ways around women, having them come undone in his hold in minutes — you refuse to believe it's orchestrated. you know how he is in bed or at least what the biz wants him to exhibit and that alone has you trembling.

and to make matters worse in your end, you've orgasmed only once your whole life and that was during the time when you played with yourself while stumbling upon his porn (you were randomly searching for one and the temptation to watch your best friend just exceeded everything).

you knew his profession for so long — hyunjin told it to you over a glass of wine that you spat onto his white shirt the minute he told you about it. the conversation was never spoken about after that.

until today.

"what are you doing, minion? damn," he chuckles, "you really look like a minion with those glasses."

you still once you close in on hyunjin. hands on his chest, eyes fixated on his, you lick your lips and hyunjin's eyes widen, eyes unknowingly trailing downwards till he has to tear his gaze away, reminding himself that it's you, that it's his best friend.

"do you want to fuck me?" liquid courage, indeed.

"you must be kidding me?"

"why? you do this regularly."

hyunjin shoves you away, pushing you back against the couch. his eyes narrows on your figure and you fold your arms. he huffs, eyes glaring at you before looking away. he stretches his arm to take a glass and pour himself a drink, gulping it down and feeling the much needed burn in his throat.

"why?" you whine. "jinnie, that's your job. fuck me. you don't mind it. i'll just be one of those girls."

"i do mind it," he raises his voice. "you're not just one of those girls. fuck, y/n, you're the only constant in my life. why would i fuck that up?"

you bite your lower lip, eyes watering at the rejection suddenly. your drunkenness is what stirs the emotional side in you and your heart is heavy. you just want to be able to fuck like everyone else, just want to feel the bliss your friends talk about, the euphoria they reach.

"wait, are you going to cry?"

"no," you bite your tongue from letting out the sob. "i won't cry. you're not the first guy to reject me. this is normal. no one wants to—"

"y/n."

"—fuck me. who would want to fuck the girl that can't orgasm, let alone fake one?" you let out a fake laugh, tears finally rolling down your eyes.

"oh goodness," hyunjin sighs. he pulls you into him for a hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "you're my best friend, y/n. i shouldn't—"

"i want you to," you look up at him. hyunjin heaves in a huge breath. it catches in his throat as he looks down at you. god, he loves you. he has loved you for years now but who would want to be in a relationship with a guy who fucks girls for a living? not anyone sane. you deserve better. fuck, you deserved so much better than him.

yet, his heart won't stay still. his mind won't stop racing with thoughts he shouldn't normally have about his best friend. heavens, you have hyunjin wrapped around your finger and you don't even know it.

"y/n, don't—"

hyunjin loses his last bit of control over your proposition the minute you place your lips over his. it's exactly as he has envisioned. soft, delicate and everything that kept him away from breaking. you capture his bottom lip, kissing him softly, hands trailing under his sweater. hyunjin feels the goosebumps rising up, your warmth seeping into his. it takes everything in hyunjin to keep his hands away.

you pull away, catching your lower lip with your teeth before letting go and looking away, "you won't even kiss me back. am i that worse? do i kiss bad? jinnie, i just want to be—"

hyunjin has his hands on your face, turning it for you to look at him before he has his lips crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. you heave, breath hitching and you gasp.

hyunjin is aphrodite. the very reincarnation of sin. he creeps into you just as you expected, crawling into your mind and captivating every single sense of yours. your hands are in his hair, tugging at the roots and moving against his body. his hand sprawls over your neck and his thumb presses into the neck, rubbing slow circles. he kisses the top of your lips, your hands tugging at his sweater and you are moaning into his mouth.

you pull away for a second, fingers digging into his clothes, tugging at it to be thrown away and hyunjin obliges. helping you out of yours too, the two of you face each other stark naked. you take him in for the divinity he is in your head, eyes trailing down to his slightly erect dick and you gasp.

it's true. the videos don't lie. he is bigger than you had seen, girth firmer than you had envisioned and the frenum piercing has you salivating. it shines under the lighting, your eyes unable to drift away from it, lips parted slightly and heavens, hyunjin can't take his eyes away from you either. was this what he was missing out all this while in the name of friendship?

his lips are back on yours, your breasts firm against his chest as his cock rubs against your inner thigh. it's messy, heavy and has you panting for breath, chasing after his tongue, wrapped around yours like they never want to let go.

quicksand. this is quicksand. you're falling in too quick; falling into everything hyunjin has to offer way too quickly. and you love it. your mind is rid of thoughts. just hyunjin, hyunjin, hwang hyunjin. he pushes back, still kissing you heavily, till your back hits the soft covers of the couch and he's hovering over you.

hyunjin's tongue licks your lower lip, causing you to moan and he's groaning at the sensation, pulling apart for air few minutes later. he cups your face, thumb brushing the side and you lean into his palm.

"i— we should—"

"no, please don't stop," you beg. "not now. please. we're in too deep to stop."

"but y/n—"

"please fuck me, jinnie. fuck me like you fucked soojin."

hyunjin's eyes widens and he pulls away from you. looking at you as if he's staring into your soul, he gulps. "how did you—" his cheeks redden. "wait—" you bite your lower lip. hyunjin pulls the rubber band that holds his hair up, causing the silver strands to fall forward. he runs his finger through it, pushing it back as he holds it tightly to focus. "you watched my porn."

you gulp, lips drying up and you nod, running your mouth quickly to justify yourself. "i did. it was supposed to be a one time thing but—" you look away. "—i touched myself to that. i fingered myself to you fucking soojin and it's the only time i came."

if hyunjin has been just losing it all this while, now, he has lost it completely. his eyes darken, a light growl leaving his lips as he holds your legs and pulls you closer into his kneeling self. you groan slightly in his grip.

"you want me to fuck you like i fucked soojin?"

"yes—"

"want me to fuck you like some doll, huh?" he bends forward, kissing your neck, sucking at the skin till they stain purple to his pleasure. hyunjin marks you all the way to your breasts, covering your skin with both dark and light marks as you repeatedly confirm, "yes, yes, yes."

hyunjin pulls away, staring at you almost tauntingly, licking his lips and running his hand through his hair. he drops the words like they are heavy. "tell me then. tell me what i did and i'll do the same to you, just like you wished."

"you fuck—"

"no," he shakes his head. "in detail. from the very first scene. you'll get only what you ask for. nothing more. nothing less. so, go on, doll. tell me."

the power you hold is insane. you do not know how to use it, however. having never been given this much power, you look at your best friend for a while before slowly telling him. the words seem foreign to you but if this is how it is going to be, and if this helps you come, you're doing it.

"y-you kissed her first." your voice is barely audible. like you're telling hyunjin a secret. hyunjin catches your lips yet again, tongue presses against your lower lip before he slips it in, tangling it with yours as he kisses you. you moan, eyes closing as your hand wrap around his axle, hands pressed on his back. your fingers plays with the few strands of his silver dyed hair at the nape. he pulls back, waiting for you to continue.

with a little more confidence and the huge amount of liquid courage in you, you demand, "you marked her up like you just did to me. i hate that you marked her up. i hated it so much but turned me on."

hyunjin sucks a hickey right above your breast, speaking into your skin, "you hated it, doll?"

"yes. wanted it to be me." hyunjin's teeth grazes your skin and you moan, "fuck." your fingers pull his hair lightly and hyunjin grunts, teeth biting into your skin, making a dark mark that has you arch your back and your thigh to rub against his cock.

"what else did you see me do, doll?" his mouth trails further down to your breast and you gasp.

"you sucked on her breasts. played with it harshly." hyunjin abides by it, sucking on your breasts, tongue lapping around your nipples and drawing out circles by it. "yes, yes— fuck, jinnie, oh my—" hyunjin finds it seductive as fuck that you never complete your sentences as you moan. and he wants you like that — barely being able to say words besides his name. that's all he needed to hear.

"you played with soojin's other breast at the same time like—" his hand is already on your right breast. it pinched the nipple, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger. the pain shoots up and it clouds your senses, causing you to grind on his cock. your arousal leaks through you, and you feel yourself grow wetter with every single flick of hyunjin's tongue.

his right hand is still on your breast, his lips trail downward. your breath hitches in your throat and you let out a shortened sigh as he breathes lowly against your skin, kissing it before landing right in front of your core, wet with want for the man before you.

"so fucking wet and what for, doll?"

"your cock, oh my god. jinnie, want your cock in me. please." you beg, writhing in his hold as he grabs your breast, fondling it in his hold.

"that's not what i did in that video. go on, continue." it's stern with command and has you spitting out the next in sequence instantly.

"you—" hyunjin is playing with your nipples as he waits for you to speak. his finger twist and turn your nipples and you're squeezing your thighs together in this intense pleasure. "fuck, can't think, jinnie. i don't know. i—"

"no, no," he hushes. kissing your pubic mound and licking small stripes, he mumbles, "you have to remember the only porno that had you come, right?"

"you—" you feel his warm breath all over your core and a gush of arousal oozes out. "you had your mouth on her pussy. you ate her out till she came, oh my god. you ate her out—"

"well done, doll." and his lips are on your wet ones. he licks at the lips, pushing it apart as he takes in your arousal, lapping in to take it all. it's merciless. and if you thought his porn was intense, you forgot all about how hyunjin himself was a walking pornography. the way his tongue licks your lips, tip teasing your entrance as he rubs your clit, slowly. he draws small circles over it, tapping at the engorged button till your toes curl in, knees lift up to bend for your feet to press down. your eyes are squeezed shut and your fingers pull at his hair every time you feel the knot tightening.

the room is filled with lewd noises and your moans, resonating through the whole area for you to hear it out in the silence. it's pornographic. the voices you make resemble those that you heard. hyunjin licks another stripe up your sodden lips before wrapping the plump pair around your clit and sucking on it, loud noise of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly.

his teeth grazes over your clit, nibbling slightly till you feel the knot clench in your stomach. it's a vortex forming deep within and from the one time experience you have, you know. it's coming. you're so close. hyunjin rubs your clit furiously, mouth moving back your lip as he eats you out. he pulls apart right when he knows you're soon to come and in a second, two of his fingers are deep within you, rubbing against your inner walls and you're crying out his name just like he wanted.

it's hyunjin, hyunjin, hyunjin. that's all he can hear — his name dripping in saccharine from your mouth, topped with all those insatiable moans that leave your lips and hyunjin quickens his pace. the two fingers thrust in and out of you, finding the spot and rubbing at the walls to elicit a particular reaction — hyunjin is searching. searching for that one spot that will have you ruined for him.

"fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what—"

the minute he touches a particularly soft area, he has you grinding down on him, chanting his name like a mantra and he knows — hyunjin's found your spot. he rubs it as he curves his fingers, having you arch further into him. he sucks on your clit, fingers thrusting in you relentlessly.

and you come undone so easily that it's a surprise how your ex couldn't do this for you. you see the white under your eyelids as you come undone. hyunjin helps you ride it out. he removes his fingers and licks you clean, taking in every single drop of your orgasm.

"told you that you were perfect," he says, looking at you and smiling. he kisses your mound as he lifts your hips up. "you're the most perfect human being ever. so how in the world could anything be wrong with you?" he wipes away the tears rolling down your eyes, as an effect from the intensity of the orgasm you went through. "so, doll, now tell me what else did i do?"

your mind is blank. you can't think of anything. your mind is filled with just the man before you in all his naked glory and how you just want him. "want you, jinnie. please. i want your dick. please want that."

"that's not the answer to my question," he huffs. "did i not lift her legs up like this?" he lifts your legs and places it over his shoulders. his erect cock is angled right and he rubs the head all over your wetness. you hitch and whine, stuttering how much you want him. "did i fuck my doll dumb? did i fuck out all your brains, baby? oh no. should i fuck you more? can you answer that, doll?"

you nod, lips parting. "want jinnie's dick. want it. want it in me."

"as you wish, doll," and he inserts it into you, pushing your walls apart with his fingers till he thrusts completely into you. his piercing underneath his shaft drags against your walls, the cold metal adding the extra sensation that tingles your nerves. his large hands hold your hips up, your ankles hitting his back bone everytime he thrusts into you. he uses his one hand to hold your wrists together above you as he hits your spot over and over again. the friction of his big cock and the frenum piercing is all too much right after one orgasm. the stimulation is over bearing and you know why the girl in the video has her eyes roll up, tongue out and lips swollen.

hyunjin plunges into you and you gush all over his cock, coating almost all of his length with your arousal. hyunjin is barely in but he is already hitting your spot, hot tip brushing against it vicariously and the frenum piercing cold against it. the friction is enough to have the knot tighten so fast and hard that you know this is going to overpower you. hyunjin lets go of you wrists but you hold them above you obediently. his hand trails to hold your breast, squeezing it and fondling with it; the other holding your legs up securely.

with every thrust, his piercing drags against your walls and his balls slap against your cheeks. tears spill down your face as you scream loudly, "jin-ah, fuck. jinnie, jinnie, jinnie. it's too much, oh my god. i can feel it. oh—"

"you're taking it like a good, good doll for me. you can take more. i know you can." he takes his cock out. he wraps his fingers around it and dragging it across your slit and your core, the frenum piercing rubbing against it and you're ready to snap again.

and without any warning, he enters into you again, this time harshly and with a quicker pace. it is fast and hard and has you gripping onto him for the life of yours, your hands moving to hold his biceps, fingers digging into it. hyunjin fucks you like he wants to take you to heaven and back. like he wants to show you everything you are missing out and that there's nothing wrong with you. it's the men. always the men.

"going to fuck you and show you how you should be fucked. how you should be getting it. going to fuck you dumb, doll and have you be mine."

he doesn't stop. hyunjin is grunting and huffing as he thrusts repeatedly in you, his pubic bone hitting your clit and causing short sorts of heightened sensations.

"jinnie! i'm coming. i'm coming. oh fuck, i'm—"

second one in a span of few hours. if you could think properly, you would be surprised at how you came twice. it's surprising that you've come thrice so far in your whole life and all three times were to be credited to hwang hyunjin, your best friend.

you come around his cock, the white flash spreading under your eyelids and you are weeping. you feel the rushing oxytocin clouding your brain as you clench tightly on his cock. hyunjin doesn't stop however, as he chases after his own high, thrusting even faster if it were possible and overstimulating you. in a few minutes, hyunjin is coming in you. hot white spurts of his cum coating your insides as he thrusts his orgasm out, only to pull it out eventually and have his white come and yours poze out and stain the couch.

your eyes are shut and you are panting heavily, chests rising and hyunjin brushes your hair away from your face, wiping the sweat that has accumulated by your forehead. he places your legs down and mumbles, "you okay, minion?"

"hm," you respond. that's all you can say. you were too fucked out to think or do anything. hyunjin chuckles and slowly getting off the couch, he carefully lifts you up into his arms. you snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. "where are we going?"

hyunjin barely hears you question with how soft it was. you repeat and it is the second time that he hears it perfectly.

"going to clean you up and rest you in bed. you need to sleep well now." you nod, snuggling further into his chest as he carries you into his bedroom.

hyunjin's wrong, though. when he wondered how in the world anything could be wrong with you, he clearly knew there is something wrong with you.

you are too dense to ever realise how deep his feelings are for you.

#hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fic #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #writings.rue

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Here's my maybe unpopular opinion on the new harry interview. There's some parts that I sympathize with him for. I'm sure it's incredibly hard to be in the public eye like that and to have people watching your every move (heyyy). Do I think he probably had to uphold some sort of image? Absolutely. And I'm sure that was difficult as well... being forced to be someone when you yourself are trying to figure out who you really are adds so many more layers to a time period that's hard enough for people with 'normal' lives. Pivoting. Him being asked how many people he's slept with was very much so innappropriate and should've never been asked period, but especially not to someone that young. i dont even remember how old he was at the time, but that's actually irrelevant anyway because the question was just rude and invasive. So, I can see where he's coming from in those ways. But the articles kind of take towards "fans are evil and too evolved" felt off to me. Because, in my eyes, we all were played lmao. Harry was maybe stripped of his autonomy and given this squeaky clean persona that was placed in front of the world for everyone to analyze, but we, fans, were also being spoonfed this idea of him (which was a lie), we were also being taken advantage of here. At 12 years old, what authority did I, we, have in the world? We're just as much victims of the music industry. We were having narratives and lies force fed down our throats, massive marketing machines pushing ideas in our heads of who we should like and what we should listen to (reference the leaked sony powerpoint for what we were supposed to think of each member of 1d). We didn't really choose one direction, we dont have that type of authority. The brand, the band, was meticulously chosen for us and became, evidentally, inescapable. I don't think we were the ones exploiting him, them, at every beck and call. We weren't forcing them to conveniently be on the cover of every Tween magazine at the grocery store. We didn't come up with the idea of "one direction infection." That's what was fed to us. Thats what their people did. Most of us had no idea that we were even been maniupulated in this way until recently. Practically every thing I know about Harry Styles has come from his own mouth or from the stories his camp puts out. They (the powers that be in the biz) wanted us to know those things about him. So, the take of "i just have no privacy now" doesn't sit well with me when his own marketing for more years than not has been for fans to know every intimate detail about him... Idk it just feels like him trying to be a victim and placing the blame for it on the people who watched from a distance rather than the people who put him out there in the first place. His bone to pick should be with the music industry that has routinely taken naive, child stars and exploited them for money.

.

[cakeslildumpster]

You have strange taste in women Mr. Crow

NEW AU IDEA THAT I DECIDED TO SHARE BC M U M Z A, like boy yall I've been brainrotting this au for the past few days, and besides my own minecraft ocs, this is what been in my head

So, this, this au, and probably a fic i will write soon if i can manage to work on the whole thing

This is a story motsly centered around mumza and dadza bc guys, we need more of them, it started out with bench trio as villains and 3/4 sbi as heros type of thing but something better came to mind

Mumza is a supper villian and dadza a superhero and they fall in love, like GUYS

Mumza is know as God of death or just death, her powers (still working a bit around it it but the base of it) is like, wither effect i guess, something she can slowly kill someone, make things wilt or just get someone sick/weak, she is able to control it now but when she first got her powers it was, to say the least bad, she became a villian out of pure coincidence really, people just feared her while she just did what she wanted to, she's kind, to the right people, she later in life became the leader of a huge villain organisation, along side her friend Puffy, who had both her sons dream and foolish help as well, they just like to have fun and mess with the people but no real harm is done, unless you decide to mess with them, she then came to find 3, young boys (tommy, tubbo and ranboo) causing havoc around town and decided to take them in

Philza is well, the hero, pro hero, he got wings, and can shoot feathers sharp as hell to his opponents, and control where these feathers go to, and to hide them, the wings can turn into some sort of tatto (that's all i have so far for him really lol, like i said it's still on works-), his hero name is Crow, or Crow father but the kids are the on who mostly call him that, and he works solo per say for the most part, then he met Techno and became close to him, they soon became partners in the hero biz and good friends, Techno even introduced his brother Wilbur and they kinda all became family

Tommy iz thy small raccon child, literally he is a racoon hybrid, and is well known for his stealing skills, plus stealth, mostly out an about causing truble and pissing people off, but also a great distraction, he goes by many names but is most know for being called big T by tubbo or just T by the restof the crew, tho he was calling himself mr. Cumz is it weren't for ranboo

Tubbo's powers is to control metal, but he doesn't use it much, but he is very good at building wierd and cool gadgets so he usually uses his powers for that, he liked to dress up as a bee and most of his gadgets is based off a bee desing, one of his own main weapons is a metel needle of sorts with poison, and since he can control metal he moves them to shoot at opponents, his code name is bee

Ranboo, i think we all know it, but he's a enderman hybrid, all of that, he is mostly the voice of reason and usually with the one brain cell, but is quite unhinged like the rest, he can teleport and is usually the one helping Puffy with medical care, and is the escape for those who need it, aka. Teleport them out of trouble, his code name is boo

Techno's power isn't much, its mostly based on all the bunnyblade shit, but he ain't a bunny hybrid, he can jump fairly high, he is also stronger then the average person, his heto name is The Balde, or just Balde

Wilbur, phantom, can float and turn invisible, sunlight doesn't necessarily harm him, but he's more sensitive to it then the average person, he isn't a hero, he wanted too, but now he's a vigilant known as Ghost, but Techno doesn't know thag yet

So you can get the idea here, mumza and daza fall in love, Wilbur techno and bench trio form a form of brotherly relationship

And i guess this is the idea so far, I'm still working on it but if yall have anything to add or just questions go right ahead, my ask box is open, just check my boundaries and rules first, i have some more stuff i didn't put here and i might talk about it more soon :)

(I plan on drawing the rest of the cast soon, i already started with tubbo, but like i already have other stuff to work on currently so i will probably not do much with this yet, but I'll still be open for questions)

Oh also, mumza without the hat bc i was to proud of the hair to just NOT show it lol

No idea what to call this yet, if you have any suggestions be my guest lol

#mumza #mumza our beloved #mumza minecraft #philza minecraft #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #tubbo #ranboo #crime bois #bedrock #techbur twins #allium duo #clingy duo #bench trio #I'm way to stubborn to let this tging not get at least one like

[listentothelittlebird]

Another scrapped scene from Code Bat - Superman meets Bizarro, and some alternate scenes from the fic How Are You? 

Word count: 1371 words

Enjoy!

Clark was wary of this meeting.

The week had been crazy enough - starting with Batman contacting him, to meet him at an abandoned warehouse.

He had not expected his friend to show him blue kryptonite, as well as a burly figure wearing his colours.

A red-haired Amazonian was standing guard above his obviously weakened form.

“I’m Superman,” Clark tried for a calming smile, “This is Batman. We’re here to help-“

“Stay where you are,” the woman raised her battleaxe threateningly, “I know of your names, but I do not trust in your reputations.”

“Artemis of Bana-Mighdall,” Batman intoned. Of course he went for intimidation. Artemis’ eyes narrowed. “I know who goes in and out of Gotham. I followed an unidentified distress signal to this location. When I arrived, I did not see your third member,” Batman explained.

“Your teammate is injured. Superman has the resources and the means to help him. The question is, will you let us?”

A beat of silence, glare met by glare, before Artemis lowered her weapon. “I will stay by him,” Artemis declared, “Wherever you take him.”

At the Fortress of Solitude, Superman learnt his name: Bizarro.

“He was used as a weapon,” Artemis spat in disgust, “He was simply a tool to them. Red Hood and I are the closest thing to a family that he has.”

“Considering that he lacked a mentor, he has an impressive grasp on his powers,” Batman stated. He was rewatching footage of Bizarro fighting Artemis and Red Hood in Gotham on the fortress’ computer monitor.

“He does,” Artemis nodded, her gaze solemn, “Unfortunately, even as his teammates, we have not helped him much in learning more about his powers. He has an incredibly distinct powerset. Even if I share some in common with him, I suspect that the way they are used or called upon varies greatly.”

Clark frowned at Bizarro’s resting form, deep in thought.

-

One thing led to another, and now Clark was leading Bizarro around his home, his bulky frame easily fitting through the farmhouse doorways designed for his own Kryptonian build.

Kon and Jon were out visiting his parents with Lois. Bizarro would have time to get used to his new home, before it was filled with people once more.

Artemis followed them around with a protective hand on Bizarro’s shoulder, scanning his home with a hawk’s eye. It was a big risk, to reveal his identity to both of them - but he found it was a risk he was willing to take.

In the end, Bizarro settled himself in the barn, intrigued by the hay and seemingly comforted by the bigger space. Artemis spent the time fiddling with her communicator. It seemed like she was trying to contact Red Hood, without much luck. It had been a week since the rescue - a week of radio silence from their third member.

The next day, Clark checked in on the two Outlaws to find Artemis talking loudly over the communicator.

“You should have at least told us you were still alive!” Artemis scolded, sharp and to the point, “Where are you now?”

“In the base,” came Red Hood’s reply. His voice was modified even through the call, “And you?”

Artemis huffed. “Superman… offered his hospitality to Bizarro,” she admitted quietly, “He has welcomed him into his home, as part of his family.”

Red Hood paused, then hummed in acknowledgement. “You should come get his stuff from the base, then,” Red Hood suggested, “At least, whatever he wants to have with him over there.”

“Of course,” Artemis stated curtly. There was another pause from Red Hood, then a laugh. The sound was what gave away the man’s youth.

“Arty,” Red Hood started, “You know Biz is still our teammate, right? I bet he’ll get cabin fever in no time. We’ll still have missions and shit together, this isn’t goodbye. He just deserves some comfort, a home he can go back to after adventures.”

Artemis considered Red Hood’s words, before letting out a small “hmph” in acknowledgement. “Do you wish to speak with Superman?” Artemis questioned, eyeing where Clark had came to a stop, at the wide threshold of the barn doors.

“I… yeah, I’d like to talk to the guy,” Red Hood agreed, “But I wanna do that face to face. Bring him here to the base with you, would you?”

“We’ll be right there,” Artemis promised. 

The Outlaws base turned out to be just on the outskirts of Metropolis, an underground bunker where sounds where muted by the rush of traffic above.

The steel doors to the bunker slid open, with Red Hood greeting them with a snarky grin. He was well-built, and there was a lock of white hair above his forehead, but even his tall and bulky frame were not enough to hide how young he was. He was no more than a few years older than Kon.

Bizarro had been rushing in for a hug, but he stopped in front of Red Hood abruptly. “Red Him hurt,” he pointed out with a sad pout.

One of Red Hood’s hands was in a wrist brace, and he was leaning his weight on one leg, the other in a protective boot that went all the way up to his knee. There were probably more injuries hidden under his leather jacket, if the way he was moving slowly was anything to go by.

“I’ll heal, Biz, don’t worry about it,” he stated dismissively. His voice was naturally low, but for now lacked the growl that came with hostility. He turned to regard Clark himself, who had come in casual clothing, sans his glasses. 

Red Hood held out his good hand, and Clark was unsurprised at his firm grip and rough, calloused hand. “You can call me Jay,” Red Hood stated, smirking at Clark’s shocked expression, “Hey, you’re opening up your home for Biz. That’s the least I can give you.”

Clark found himself sitting with Jay at a table, with Bizarro and Artemis sorting through things Bizarro wanted to bring to his new home. Jay was sipping tea from a teacup dwarfed by his hand. It was a domestic sight which he had not expected from a man known as an anti-hero weapons expert, and who was notoriously dangerous to cross paths with.

“You’re probably curious as to why you didn’t find me when you found my teammates,” Jay started without preamble, “I activated the distress signal, but by the time I was done with taking care of the thugs, I was pretty injured. I had the bright idea of leaving to take care of my own wounds.”

Jay huffed, “It wasn’t a really bright idea,” he gestured to his visible injuries, “I only stuck around long enough to make sure nobody with ill intentions found them, then I booked it for home.”

“Home,” Clark echoed, frown no doubt obvious on his face. Jay smiled, “Aye. Just because I used to run solo doesn’t mean I’ve got no fam. They’re just not about this life, you know? Needless to say, it was kinda hard to get away from them until I was deemed healthy enough to get back out and about.”

Jay glanced back at Bizarro, at Artemis fussing over him. “Again, thank you,” Jay stated, making pointed eye contact as he turned back to face Clark, “Opening up your home for Biz… he deserves somewhere to call home. Somewhere besides here, at least.”

“I try to help as much as I can,” Clark shrugged. Jay hummed at that, with a knowing smile, although Clark had no idea exactly what he knew.

Jay’s smile dropped into a serious frown as his teammates left the room. “It goes without saying that you’re gonna have to deal with me and Arty, if Biz ever gets hurt by you or your kids,” Jay warned coldly. He seemed to close his eyes, then, shaking his head, “But from what I’ve heard about you, I’m fairly sure that that’s not gonna happen.”

“It won’t,” Clark assured, wholly confident of this.

Jay smiled, and slowly rose to his feet. “C’mon, maybe you can help decide what Biz should bring and what he should leave here. If you can convince him, of course.”

#Code Bat #straight from the trash doc #Artemis of Bana Mighdall #Jason Todd #bizarro #clark kent #batman #I just have so many random scenes that I never put into the finished fics #I seriously need to compile these #that's another day's problem :D #fanfic #Red Hood And The Outlaws #AU

[dudeandduchess]

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: We and Us (Fluff, Time Travel AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) takes a vacation to Japan with her best friend and prays to meet her soulmate, only fate gives her a mile instead of an inch and she meets Rengoku Kyōjurō— the Flame Hashira in the manga that she had been reading. Right before his last mission, no less, so it’s up to her to save him.

Note: This is a mix of an isekai, soulmate, and time travel AU. I’ll try to explain things as best as I can within the story, but please take everything at face value. But if y’all have questions, please let me know. Enjoy, bbys!

(Y/n) will be the usual, but (F/n) will stand for Friend’s Name.

Also, a HUGE thank you to Biz for helping me out so much with this. Like seriously. I’ve hit so many blunders with writing this one out.

Warning: Mild Angst with Happy Ending, Manga/Movie Spoilers, Language

Word Count: 11,007

***

It was the same dream again; the very same one that had kept on plaguing (Y/n) ever since she had landed in Tokyo with her best friend.

She had only ever seen the scene in the Kimetsu no Yaiba manga, but it all looked so vivid in her mind. Too vivid, in fact, that it had unsettled her enough to have her sitting up in the double bed in the hotel room, that she and (F/n) shared.

For the third night in a row, the dream— no, the nightmare— had managed to reduce her to tears again.

Maybe she was crazy for feeling so much for someone who wasn’t real, but she couldn’t help her reaction. When she had opened her eyes, her face was already wet with tears— and no matter how hard she tried to wipe them away, they wouldn’t cease falling.

And, for once, she wanted to wake (F/n) up so she could get one of her comforting hugs— but she didn’t want to put a damper on such a momentous vacation for them. After all, they had saved up so much money just to afford going to Tokyo in the first place.

She wouldn’t ruin the next day with something that would fade away into nothingness later on.

But she would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to watch Rengoku Kyōjurō die over and over again— even if it was only in her dreams.

All she could do, however, was lay back down and curl into a ball to clutch one of her pillows close to her chest; burrowing her face into the fresh-smelling linen and trying to will away the haunting images that kept playing in her mind.

Her heart felt like it was breaking a million times over, yet she couldn’t exactly explain why that was. So, she closed her eyes and started counting— if only to get her racing mind to calm down.

Thankfully, sleep finally caught up to her; albeit restless and unfulfilling.

‘Don’t worry about me dying here.’

***

“You seem really off today, is something wrong, (Y/n)?” (F/n) asked as she nudged her best friend with her elbow, sending the other woman jumping a little in surprise; as if she had been suddenly shaken from some deep and all-consuming thought.

In response, (Y/n) forced a smile on her face and shook her head. She really did feel so drained, especially with a constant heaviness weighing down on her shoulders. Especially when she had stepped onto the small tram that would lead them to Setagaya; it was as if her chest had gotten so tight at some unknown factor that plagued her every waking move.

Not even the pretty hydrangeas that lined either side of the tracks were enough to make her feel better. And it felt like such a waste to be there, as the hydrangeas were what she had wanted to see the most.

“I just had a really weird dream last night. It was of Kyō dying…” (Y/n) admitted with a slight huff of a laugh, trying to make light of the situation with some humor— but she couldn’t say anything more as she felt her best friend’s arms wrap around her tightly.

(Y/n) had to admit that it was a little surprising, but she wasn’t entirely opposed to it; as it felt so warm and comforting, especially with the light drizzle of rain outside making the world look dreary and cold.

And slowly, she found herself grinning as she tried to push (F/n) off; before bursting out into a tiny fit of giggles when the arms around her only got tighter.

“Okay, okay, I feel better now. You can let go of me.”

With a laugh, (F/n) stepped back and patted the top of (Y/n)’s head, making the latter curl her upper lip at how playfully condescending that was. But it did its job in taking her mind off of her nightmare, which was all that mattered.

And so, with much a brighter mood, (Y/n) looked out of the tram window and giddily waited for their stop— so she could get a feel of what Kyōjurō’s hometown would have been like. After all, the databook had mentioned him living in Setagaya; so it was ticking off two nocks in one move, with her hydrangea sightseeing, as well as touring Setagaya.

When they got to their station, both women wasted no time in walking to the nearby temple— Tsurumaki Jisso-in. It was a really quaint place, but it felt so tranquil to step into; as if they were being transported through time.

Every step that (Y/n) took, she could feel her emotions beginning to bubble to the surface— feeling so light and heavy at the same time, like some part of her was being welcomed back to the place.

But that wasn’t the most unsettling instance for her; that was when she was deep in prayer already— thanking the gods for bringing her to Japan with her best friend, and for giving her such good fortune up to that day.

After all, she knew that she was luckier than most for just having the opportunity to have a roof above her head and three (or more) meals a day. Let alone the fact that she could have saved up to afford a very expensive trip.

If that wasn’t worth thanking the gods for, then she didn’t know what was.

“All I’m asking for now… is someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who’s the other half of my soul…” She prayed under her breath, bowing her head even further as a sign of humility, before adding, “Someone who will love me wholeheartedly forever.”

Shivers raced up her spine as soon as she uttered her wish, with some unseen force beckoning her to look up. And when she gave in to the urge to do so, the sight of a blond waiting a few paces away from her— with his hand stretched out towards her— made her absolutely breathless.

The vision didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, but she was sure that she just saw Rengoku Kyōjurō in front of her.

“It can’t be. I’m going crazy,” The young woman whispered to herself; bowing down once more, before strolling off to the side to admire the little stone statues that dotted the vicinity.

However, the heavy feeling on her shoulders had returned along with a headache. So, she decided that a short stroll around the area would do her some good.

With one last look behind her— to see that (F/n) was still engrossed in whatever prayer she had— (Y/n) deigned to just send her a text to let her know that she was going for a walk before finally taking the first few steps to get her around the place.

She couldn’t even hear the buzz of the town around them. No horns, or car engines, or even the sound of people filled the gaps of silence between the short gusts of wind that rustled the leaves of the plants around her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that it was relaxing; enough for a nap, even.

But she couldn’t do that when she and (F/n) still had so many places to go for the rest of the day. And, figuring that she’d been gone for long enough, she circled back to the pagoda— where, lo and behold, her best friend was nowhere to be found.

“I told her to wait for me here, tsk,” She uttered under her breath, huffing a little as she tried to fight back the heaviness and the headache that were only getting worse. “(F/n), you dumbass.”

She must have circled the entire vicinity of the temple thrice already, but her best friend was still nowhere to be found. And, around the second time that she had gotten back to the pagoda, she had pulled her phone out to call her— only to curse under her breath when she saw that it was dead.

It wouldn’t have been a problem at all, since she had her backpack with her— but when she checked the contents of it, she didn’t find the power bank that she was sure that she had packed in there that morning.

So, she circled the area once more— getting more frustrated at the pseudo cat and mouse game that she assumed (F/n) was playing with her— until she decided to check outside the temple gates.

Only, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes when an entirely different scene greeted her.

Instead of the asphalt road that she had walked on earlier, there was only a dirt road; which had her chest tightening with panic. Because she couldn’t have been on one of those prank shows she always watched.

But that was the only answer that she was coming up with, as her eyes took in the sight of the busy road in front of her. People were even wearing much older clothes; as opposed to the jeans, button down, and ankle boots combo that she was wearing.

“No, I swear to everything holy… (F/n), if you signed me up for a prank…” She hissed under her breath, swallowing thickly as she frantically looked at all of the people who were going on about their day.

A few gazes were aimed at her, but no one dared to approach her. And it wasn’t like she could simply stroll up to someone and ask them what had happened to the road— because, as it was, she only knew the basics of basic Japanese.

She would sooner make a mistake and ask someone where a gong was, instead of where the road had gone.

It was also at that moment that she realized that she shouldn’t have goofed off while learning Japanese; instead of telling (F/n) that she sucks tiny dicks, she could have used that time to learn some more useful sentences.

Panic was steadily beginning to set in, causing tears to spring up in her eyes as she clutched her useless phone in one hand. She couldn’t even muster up the strength to move from where she stood— the need to cry getting stronger with every passing second.

(Y/n) swore that she would wring her best friend’s neck if all of that ended up as a really unfunny prank. But it seemed that it wasn’t a prank at all, as no one yelled ‘cut’ and not one camera person stepped out to capture the sight of her tears beginning to fall down her face.

Slowly, her panic began to really set in, as she gripped her phone even tighter in her hand— pushing herself to turn on her heel to march back into the temple and try to look for (F/n) in every shrub possible; only, the breath was knocked out of her when she ran smack dab into something.

Or rather, someone.

Red-tinted irises flickered down at the peculiar woman, lingering on her tear-stained face, before they took in the strange clothes that she was wearing.

The strange woman’s clothes weren’t what had the Flame Hashira’s curiosity piquing, however…

It was when her eyes widened with what seemed like fear and genuine shock, before she whispered, “Kyōjurō?”

All that, before promptly passing out— thankfully, in his arms. Otherwise, she would have suffered a painful bump to the head.

“Ani-ue? Do you know her?” Kyōjurō readjusted his hold on the woman in his arms, then looked down at his side to answer his brother with a smile.

“I don’t, Senjurō, but she knows me.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Take her home,” The Hashira’s answer sounded so simple, as if it didn’t have to do with taking a virtual stranger home— one that looked so weird, with a glossy and flat brick at her feet. Because really, his curiosity was extremely piqued; especially with how he felt his heart skip a beat when she mentioned his name.

He wanted to know why exactly that was, when he had never felt something so… unexplainably warm and pleasant in his entire life.

As if he had just begun to really live.

***

“Is she awake yet?” Kyōjurō asked as he slid the shoji open and poked his head inside the guest room. He had been training beforehand, but had practically breezed through the rest of his shadow sparring routines because his curiosity got the better of him.

All throughout the afternoon, he couldn’t quite get his mind off of the strange woman who was sleeping in his home; and it wasn’t even the fact that she knew him that baffled him.

It was how he felt so attached to her already— as if, by some invisible force, something tethered him to her.

And that was how he found himself padding through the house; pacing up and down the halls at first, weighing the merits of seeing her already— without washing all of the sweat off of him first— as opposed to just making a beeline for her room and checking up on her.

However, he went with the former choice: bathing first, before going to see her. After all, he wanted to make a good impression, and he couldn’t do that when he smelled like the sun and lots of sweat.

“Not yet, ani-ue,” Senjurō answered softly, sending his older brother a smile, before reaching up to feel the unknown woman’s forehead with the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have a fever, but she was still unconscious, which worried the younger Rengoku a lot. He may not have known her, but he was so naturally kindhearted that he didn’t want anyone getting hurt— especially when they were under his care.

Kyōjurō sighed quietly— more out of disappointment than anything else— as he padded into the room; closing the door behind him, as he let his gaze fall to the unconscious woman on the futon.

And that was when the foreign feeling of his stomach feeling so empty yet full at the same time— as his heart began to pound faster in his chest— fell on him. He barely even managed to restrain the urge to reach up and rub at the spot where his heart was.

Though, slowly, he walked towards her and sat down next to where his brother sat— not once looking at anywhere but her and her sleeping face.

Kyōjurō had to admit that she was quite beautiful, even with that slight furrow in her brows. But, before he could stop himself, he reached out and gently smoothed the crease down with the pads of his fingers.

Unbeknownst to him, a small and warm smile had tugged up at the corners of his lips; which had Senjurō looking between the Flame Hashira and the stranger.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, but he could feel that there was something divine at play with their situation. Especially since the woman looked like she didn’t belong in their country, nor did she belong in their time.

It wasn’t until night had fallen that the brothers saw her stir awake, and they immediately waited with baited breath for her to open her eyes. But when she did open them, they immediately widened as she bolted upright on the futon— scooting away from the Rengokus and dragging the blanket closer towards her chest.

As if that would protect her from a Hashira.

“I have to be dreaming,” (Y/n) whispered frantically, curling her fingers around the blanket and bringing it up to shield her face from the pair in front of her; then brought it back down after a few seconds, to check if they were still there.

Lo and behold, Kyōjurō and Senjurō were still looking at her; which prompted her to do it twice more, until the older of the two tugged the blanket out of her hands and scooted closer to her.

(Y/n) wanted nothing more than to scream at that moment— both with fear and various other overwhelming emotions— but she bit down on her tongue and held it in. On the off chance that it was all some elaborate prank, she didn’t want to make even more of a fool of herself.

“Your name,” Kyōjurō began, letting his curiosity get the better of him as he gave in and jumped into interrogating her already. After all, he had been waiting all afternoon for her to wake up. “What’s your name?”

Hell, he had even pushed back the time for his nightly patrols in case she woke up. Because he wanted to be there when she opened those breathtaking eyes of hers; ones that widened in surprise at his question.

Thankfully, (Y/n) caught his words with very little difficulty.

“(Y/n)…” The young woman breathed out, completely enamored by how close those fiery eyes were to her face. She had only seen them in her dreams, and to have them look so real… it was a dream come true; even if she was sure that she was only hallucinating.

Since there was no way that a manga character could be real.

“I… I mean… (L/n) (Y/n),” She stammered out in the choppiest-sounding Japanese that she had ever uttered. It was even worse than when she had asked someone for directions in the street the day before; making her want to snatch the blanket back and hide under it until the burning in her cheeks subsided.

“(L/n) (Y/n),” Kyōjurō whispered under his breath, feeling his lips tingle as a smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— for some unknown reason. The name was so foreign on his tongue, and he had pronounced it differently than she had, but it still had his heart fluttering inside his chest. “Earlier, you mentioned my name. How do you know me?”

That had all of (Y/n)’s thoughts coming to a standstill inside her head, stumping her until she could feel her right eye twitching with her discomfort. After all, she couldn’t very well tell him that he was a fictional character in a manga— one that she cared for immensely.

But she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to explain why she was there in the first place, if she lied to him. That, and something told her that Kyōjurō would willingly hear her out, and even accept what she was going to say.

He would be a little skeptical about it, but she knew as much as he did that no one would be able to explain exactly what had happened.

So, to the best of her ability, she wracked her brain for all of the Japanese words that she had learned, and began to explain in choppy sentences. “I’m not from here. I’m from the future… and this is a manga.”

The Hashira’s eyebrows furrowed at that, and he was about to open his mouth to speak, when Senjurō reached out to lay a hand on his forearm.

“Maybe we should hear her out first, ani-ue?”

Those words prompted Kyōjurō to look over at Senjurō, before scooting back to sit next to his brother, and letting go of the blanket that he had unceremoniously snatched from their guest. Part of him had his defenses raised, and wanted nothing more than to get things over with— but another, much bigger part, had him wanting to sit there and listen to what she had to say.

All night long, if he had the leisure of doing so.

And so, with her choppy Japanese, (Y/n) went on to tell the Rengoku brothers everything that had happened since she had arrived at the temple in Setagaya, and everything that happened between that and fainting in his arms; with the last bit making her blush profusely, while she looked away.

Surprisingly, Kyōjurō found the flustered expression cute on her… but what threw the young man even more for a loop was his reaction: stifling a smile, as his cheeks also warmed up with a blush identical to hers.

Never in his life had he been flustered like that; which was made even more intense with the butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach. It was a foreign feeling, but something that he welcomed… because it was something nice and warm.

Something that he knew he had been missing all along.

“And that’s how I ended up here. I was just looking for my friend...” (Y/n) implored softly, letting her gaze flicker between the two blonds in front of her. “Do you believe me?”

She then waited with baited breath for Kyōjurō’s answer, staring intently at him, and sighing when he minutely nodded his head. “Parts of your story explain things, so I’ll believe you… for now.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll take that.” (Y/n) smiled at him, feeling extremely comfortable under his gaze for once— only to feel her breath catch in her throat when the Hashira returned it with a much brighter one than hers.

If he kept smiling at her like that, she might just traverse time and space again— what with how surreal it looked.

Both of them seemed to be stuck at a standstill then, with their eyes not once flickering away from the other— as their smiles tapered down into smaller ones.

All the while, Senjurō could only look on with a hint of a smile tugging up on his cheeks; because he had never seen his brother ever look so interested in a woman before. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally found the one who was going to take care of his heart.

“Ani-ue, I think it’s time for your patrols now,” The younger Rengoku began with a mirthful tone, popping the invisible bubble that ensconced the pair with him.

That had the Hashira sitting upright even more, shoulders stiffening as he picked his sword up from beside him and immediately got up. He had completely forgotten that he had to do a patrol of the area, just so everyone under his jurisdiction could stay safe.

However, he felt a little reluctant to leave his guest just like that.

“Let’s talk more tomorrow, (L/n)-san,” He bid then, biting down unsurely on his bottom lip when he realized just how forward he sounded— but not doing anything to retract the statement.

Because he had to admit, he wanted to talk to her more; get to know her. All of her.

To his utter shock— and pleasure— he saw the young woman nod at him, before uttering words that had his heart practically jumping out of his chest and gracing all of them with its presence.

“Stay safe, Kyōjurō… I mean, Rengoku-san.”

It was safe to say that all throughout his patrol, Kyōjurō’s mind always drifted back to the intriguing woman that had literally and figuratively fallen into his arms.

***

When morning finally came, it was to hear nothing but tranquil silence within the Rengoku household. There was the telltale chirping of birds outside, and the soft din of people chattering as they passed by the house— but it seemed that everyone was still asleep within the estate itself.

But (Y/n) was proven wrong when she heard three soft knocks outside of her room. “(L/n)-san? Are you awake?”

It was Senjurō, to whom she answered that she was awake and that she could come in— in the most chipper voice possible. She couldn’t help it, there was just something about the youngest Rengoku that made her all smiley and happy; like he was a bright ray of light in a dark and dreary world.

Much like how Kyōjurō was.

“Good morning, Senjurō-kun,” She greeted with a smile, quietly taking note of the change of clothes that was in his arms. They looked extremely nice; red, with black and gold embroidery, from her vantage point.

“Ani-ue got these for you earlier this morning… as soon as the shop opened,” Senjurō admitted with a soft, and teasing, smile; one that had (Y/n)’s cheeks flaring red at how sweet the gesture was, and how she just knew that a little boy was poking fun at her for making it so obvious that she liked his older brother.

Because, really, from how she had made moony eyes at him last night— there was no denying that Senjurō knew just how attracted she really was to Kyōjurō.

Thankfully, the younger Rengoku didn’t push his teasing more than that— opting instead to hand her the clothes, so she could get ready for the day.

It had taken a while for her to get herself done up in the kimono, but she eventually padded over to the shoji and poked her head outside, calling out softly, “Senjurō-kun? I’m done.”

When there was no answer, (Y/n) waited unsurely by the door for a little longer, until she felt awkward just standing there. So, she closed it once more, then padded over to her futon— folding everything up like she had seen in all the Japanese dramas that she had seen— and then moving towards her bag, that had been left a few ways away from where she had been sleeping.

She then rifled through the contents, sighing in relief when she found her passport and her wallet still in there— along with her phone, which had a few cracks on the screen.

“Fuck, that’s gonna be a bitch to use,” The young woman muttered in her native tongue, clicking her tongue in mild irritation as she tried to turning it on again.

No luck, however, which had her throwing it back in her bag and setting it back down on the floor. After all, she sincerely doubted that she would be able to use her paper bills and card to pay for anything in that era.

She was basically nothing more than a sitting duck, unless she stuck close to the Rengokus until she could figure out how and why she was even there in the first place. But those thoughts were put to a halt when she heard Kyōjurō’s telltale laughter from outside the house.

And, before she could stop her feet, she had already padded over to the shoji that led to the yard and had slid it open a tiny bit— peering outside with one eye, before opening the door a little bit wider to poke her head out.

“Kyō- Rengoku-san?” Tiptoeing out onto the engawa, (Y/n) looked left and right to see where his voice was coming from; and it wasn’t until she was standing at the end of the platform, while holding on to a beam, that she saw the familiar head of blond hair that she had been looking for.

Just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō saw her during pretty much the same moment— and the brighter and warmer smile that played at his lips was close to inevitable.

The Hashira felt his heart skip another beat in his chest, as he halfheartedly excused himself from the Kakushi that he had been talking to. And with a few quick strides, as well as a little vault up onto the engawa— to show off a little for the object of his affections— he greeted, “Good morning, (L/n)-san. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you… for your hospitality. For the kimono, and for believing me too…” Her words were choppy at best, but the Hashira picked up on all of that she wanted to tell him— making his grin widen even more, until it was so bright that it was even more breathtaking than before.

Truly, no one could say that Rengoku Kyōjurō wasn’t quite the looker. Because he was.

“I just… saw it at the shop and thought of you,” The young man chuckled bashfully, even going as far as to lift a hand up to the back of his neck and scratch at it in such an adorable manner. “It looks really, really good on you.”

Partnered with the blush on his cheeks, (Y/n) was sure then that her heart was going to get tired sooner rather than later from beating so fast and hard in her chest. “Thank you, Rengoku-san.”

“Kyōjurō.” That had (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but even the man himself wasn’t sure what had come over him at that moment. All that he knew was that he wanted to hear her keep saying his name; his given name, like she had before. “You can call me Kyōjurō.”

Her answering smile was so beautiful that the Hashira had to resist the urge to cup her cheeks in his hands and… he didn’t even want to think about what he would have done to those alluring lips of hers.

“Okay, Kyōjurō,” The sound of his given name rolling off of her pretty lips had those butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach again, which only intensified when she added, “You can call me (Y/n).”

Meanwhile, Senjurō was looking at the couple from inside (Y/n)’s room; as he had just come back to get her to have breakfast with him. But the development that he had come across had him stifling a giggle, because the pair looked absolutely adorable out on the engawa.

Both of them flustered, barely a few feet away from each other, and making such moony gazes at each other— which they were oblivious to. It confirmed the younger Rengoku’s hunch that his brother might have finally found the woman for him.

Someone that he would love and cherish forever, and vice versa.

He almost didn’t want to cut in their little moment. “Ani-ue? (L/n)-san? I made breakfast for all of us.”

At the sound of Senjurō’s voice, both Kyōjurō and (Y/n) stepped away from each other; like the spell around them was broken, much like what had happened last night. And the younger Rengoku regretted having done so because, if he were to be honest, he would say that he just wanted his brother to be happy.

***

“What should we do today? Should we ask around if anyone knows anything about traversing time?” Kyōjurō offered as he set down his cup of water, looking over at (Y/n) and automatically smiling at her— a small one, but a smile all the same.

“Wouldn’t that be too… weird?”

“You have a point,” The Hashira laughed then, crossing his arms over his chest and wracking through his head to see what solutions he could offer to his cute guest.

And that had nothing to do with wanting to impress her even more. Nothing at all.

With that, however, both of them settled with retracing (Y/n)’s steps before she had jumped through time and space— going back to the temple near Kyōjurō’s house, and trying to look for any indicators that there had been something awry at play.

But there was none; not even a suspicious looking crack in the ground or any trees that could have served as some portal to another reality.

There was, however, a headache coming on for (Y/n). Especially when she came closer to the pagoda in the middle of the sacred grounds. It was as if it was the source of her affliction— which wouldn’t be far off from her own guess that what she was doing there was somehow tied to the wish she’d made to the gods.

The wish where she’d asked to meet her soulmate; someone who would love her wholeheartedly forever. And she couldn’t think of anyone else that she wanted to fit the bill more, than Rengoku Kyōjurō.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

Kyōjurō’s words had her snapping out of her reverie; shaking her head a little, as if to shake off all of those thoughts, before turning to him. “I just… headache.”

Her words had absolutely escaped her then, since the sight of him reaching out to her was reminiscent of the vision that had flashed in her mind yesterday; just before she had been transported to his time and reality.

And to her absolute surprise, he pressed his fingers to the middle of her forehead and gently smoothed out the space between her eyebrows. She hadn’t even realized that she had been furrowing them in the first place, and that action had her blushing beet red; all the way up to the tips of her ears.

“You don’t need to frown that much, you look prettier with a smile,” The young man complimented quietly; for once abiding by the tranquil atmosphere at the temple.

That, and maybe because he wanted her to be the only one who heard those words; as they were specifically for her alone.

Slowly, he retracted his hand from (Y/n)’s forehead, and steadily tamped down the urge to pull her in and finally have a taste of those lips of hers. It wouldn’t have been a polite thing to do in such sacred grounds, in public— no less.

“Why don’t we talk a walk around the town instead? To give you some reprieve,” The Hashira offered with a smile. “And then we can come back here tomorrow to look for more information…”

Part of him wanted to jump the gun and tell her that she could stay with him forever, but even he knew that that was too forward. They had just met yesterday, after all; and she had told him that his reality only existed in a manga.

If that wasn’t the premise for something tragic, he didn’t know what was. And even though he was so tempted to give in to his budding feelings, he couldn’t put that much pressure on her.

It was true that she made him feel so much— so many good things that he didn’t even think he could feel about someone— but he also had a feeling that, sooner or later, she would want to go back to where she came from.

He didn’t want to be the cause of tethering her down there; especially not when demons were running rampant around the country.

But damn if he didn’t want to keep her with him forever.

Just a day and he was already in so deep; he was both excited and apprehensive of how much deeper his feelings would get for her the longer she stayed there.

Little did he know just how much she would come to mean to him.

***

“Kyōjurō? It’s time for breakfast!” (Y/n) called aloud, before banging the wooden spoon against the pot in her hand— letting the Flame Hashira know, in not so many words, that he should get out of his room then.

It had already been a few months since she had arrived in the Taisho era, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t worried about what was happening in her own timeline and reality— but there was realistically nothing that she could do about things.

So, she slowly started to accept the fact that she was stuck there. Not without worrying nightly about how her best friend was doing, and how her family was faring along. She still thought about them and constantly thought about ways that she could possibly get back home, but her efforts weren’t as valiant as before.

Especially since things with Kyōjurō had taken a more… romantic turn.

They had never said anything to confirm their feelings, but it was evident in the way that Kyōjurō would cup her face and hold her hand in private, that he felt the same way that (Y/n) felt for him.

It had been really surprising when he had first taken her hand, mostly because he had done so abruptly during the rare dinner when it was only the two of them eating. Hell, she had almost spilled her food when Kyōjurō just reached out and practically slapped his hand down on hers.

Thankfully, he had gotten gentler over the months, and he had learned to slowly slip her hand into his instead; which never failed to make (Y/n)’s heart flutter— each and every time.

The mere memory of his warm and rough hand enveloping hers had her smiling and blushing, as she set the bowls of food down on the dining table set for three people. Shinjurō never ate with them, and it wasn’t that he didn’t know of her existence— he knew, yet he preferred to stay in his room instead.

So (Y/n) had no idea what the Rengoku patriarch thought about her, or her relationship with his son.

She had been so deep in thought that she didn’t even feel the Hashira’s presence in the room; not until Kyōjurō sat down beside her.

Kyōjurō’s eyes zoned in on the young woman’s left cheek, as he had been doing since he had entered the room a few minutes before. He had been planning on kissing her for a long time, yet he always chickened out at the last minute— so he resolved that day, that he was going to do it.

Or he was going to double his morning exercise routine, as a form of punishment.

“Good morning, (Y/n).” He had been doing so well with his efforts too, what with him leaning in to try and brush his lips against her soft cheek— only for her to turn towards him when he had placed his hand on her back.

And, in a turn of events that he could have only dreamt of until that point, his lips slanted against her in a faint kiss.

Immediately, both their eyes widened in surprise, yet they remained frozen in place; both of them not knowing where things were going next. Not until the Flame Hashira decided to jump in and pull her in further against him, all while pressing his lips harder against her own.

She was so warm, his lips were tingling slightly at the feeling of kissing her, and he wished that the feeling would never end— as he fought off the urge to completely melt against her; along with tamping down the voice in his head that told him to pull her onto his lap and claim her lips thoroughly.

But, at the very last second, he slowly pulled back from her and took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. He didn’t want to rush her into things; that wasn’t how he was raised.

After all, he wanted to marry her first.

The thought of marriage didn’t even faze him, since he had been considering it a few months after knowing (Y/n). Kyōjurō wanted nothing more than to ask for her hand in marriage, to show her that he really would cherish her forever if she chose to stay with him, but there was still the matter of her not being from that timeline that held him back from doing so.

When before he hadn’t wanted to hold her back from wanting to return to her own reality, he was beginning to succumb to the selfishness that brewed within him.

If given the chance to keep her forever, he would take it in a heartbeat.

“I…” (Y/n) whispered, face completely red and a little bit winded, as she lifted a hand and gently pressed her fingers against her lips.

Finding her shyness extremely cute, the Hashira’s lips pulled up at the corners into a grin— as he pulled a little bit away from her; if only to see more of her adorable expression. “You’re so beautiful.”

Those words only served to shock the young woman even further; eyes widening in surprise, as they flickered up and stared into those piercing red and yellow irises that she had come to love even more.

Much more than she did, than when she had thought he was nothing but a character in a manga. And so much more than she had loved any other person.

It was almost scary how much she loved and cared for Kyōjurō.

So, it absolutely tore her heart when she heard that he had been called to Oyakata-sama’s estate later that afternoon, which had her heart sinking to her stomach. It never boded well for her whenever Kyōjurō went away on missions, but to know that what she had been dreading was unfolding right before her eyes once more— for real, that time— had her feeling weak in the knees as she waited for Kyōjurō at home.

Only, instead of seeing her beloved walking through the gates, she saw his crow flying overhead— with a letter tied to one of its feet.

Her heart sank at the mere sight of it, and even more when she unfurled the parchment to see a letter that told her that he would be back in a few days.

That he just had to deal with a demon, and that he had to take the long-haul train to find it.

“No, no, no, no,” Her breaths came in shallow bursts, and her heart had felt like it had stopped inside her chest. Still, with her entire body awash with a cold and crippling kind of fear, she forced her legs to take her to the room that she had been given within the estate.

Once there, she fished out the pouch where she kept the money that Kyōjurō had been giving her— so she could buy things that she wanted— and didn’t even bother to check in with Senjurō before she left.

(Y/n) couldn’t tell him, because she would make sure that he had nothing to worry about. She would make sure that Kyōjurō lived, because she couldn’t take losing him again— and on a scale that was real, that time.

Reading about it was a different kind of pain, but experiencing it would make her crazy.

He had become such an important person to her, that to lose him would equal to her losing herself. So, that was how she found herself setting off to follow him to the train station.

Unfortunately, she had no clue where it was; nor could she ask anyone for directions— as most people shied away from her. With her being a foreigner and all, most of the locals had taken to simply ignoring her because of Kyōjurō; and it pissed her off to no end that she they wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

Kyōjurō and Senjurō had been the only ones to accept her wholeheartedly into their home, and she couldn’t be more thankful for that. Albeit a little suspicious about the gods once more playing a hand with how she had come across them, because there was no way that it was pure coincidence that she had traversed realities the same day that he decided to visit the temple on a whim.

Had she not come across them that day, she didn’t even know where she would have ended up.

And with that last thought swimming in her head, she straightened her shoulders out and took in a deep breath before soldiering on to where she had once had Senjurō mention the train station.

If memory served her right, and if she understood him correctly, then she would get there with about twenty minutes of walking.

“Why isn’t Uber a thing here?” She whispered under her breath, huffing as she fanned herself with her hand and started power walking towards where she guessed the station was.

Only, she had made a wrong turn at one point— and had to retrace her steps to the main road; where she then tried her hardest to make out the characters from ‘station’ on the sign boards and flyers that she had passed by.

And after an extra half hour, she had finally arrived at the station; met with so many people falling in line to get tickets for the first and only train that was leaving for the day. She almost wanted to tell people not to buy any of the tickets, and tell them to go home, yet she was but a tiny speck in a sea of people.

A foreigner, no less; so, the chances of anyone taking her seriously were nil.

Part of her was tempted to tell Kyōjurō about it, but she didn’t want to alert the lower moon demon controlling the train about her knowledge of things; as that would only put her at the forefront of his kill list, and would most likely put more people in danger.

She had to be smart about things, so she hatched a quick— and half-cocked— plan to hide in the last train car until she was sure that the train conductor was back out towards the first train car, before she snuck in to save Kyōjurō and the others.

“Oh thank all the gods that I took this part to heart,” The young woman whispered once more, as she looked down at her ticket and conveniently threw it in the trash bin.

She wanted to hop in the train car that her beloved was on, if only to see him safe and sound— and eating his mountain of bento box meals— but bypassed that car quickly as she hastened to the last one.

And, with one look behind herself as the train whistle blew, to see if the coast was clear, she hopped on the platform to the cargo hold and quickly snuck inside the dark and stifling car.

As nervous as she was, her heart pounding wildly in her chest was something she expected; what was weird was the tightness that came with it. It was suffocating, and beginning to weigh down on her shoulders, yet she shook the feeling off in favor of finding a trunk that wasn’t stacked up to sit on.

Once she was situated nicely— just in time too, as the train began to lurch forward— she began to run through all of the manga panels in her head. She could only vividly remember the part where Akaza appeared, as that part was such a painfully memorable one, but the few flashes of the train panels helped her gauge the timeline.

Plus, it also helped her bide her time; calming her racing thoughts a little, since she knew that Kyōjurō and the others would be able to handle the demon with little to no problems.

Once she heard the train’s whistle, she took that as a signal to get up from her perch on one of the trunks— making her way towards the steel door that led to the other cars.

Only, when she tried to turn the knob, it was to find that it was chained from the outside.

“Fuck. Fuck,” The young woman whispered under her breath, trying desperately to push the door open— on the off chance that the porter had been lazy and didn’t latch the padlock on the chains. But, as her luck would have it, the padlock was firmly in place, keeping the door firmly shut.

Instantly, her eyes darted around the dim room, trying to look for a way to get out of there before things went to hell inside the train. But she found no other exits except the main doors, as the windows had metal screens on them to keep thieves out.

The train lurched beneath her at that moment, making her cry out as she got jostled against the door. And it wouldn’t have been bad, had the mountain of luggage behind her not come falling down; essentially trapping her right where she stood.

Just when she thought that things could get worse for her, they did when the heaviness that had been brewing inside her since she had boarded the train began to bubble up. It had her fighting back the migraine that practically split her head, all while resisting the urge to reach up and clutch at her tightening chest. She was left like a sitting duck, barely holding herself back from crying and screaming out her beloved’s name.

That was, until she remembered that Kyōjurō would be protecting the last five car trains; which most likely included the passenger car right across the car that she was in.

“Kyōjurō! Kyōjurō!” She whisper-yelled, wishing to all the gods that the demon on top of the train wouldn’t pay much attention to the ruckus that she was causing.

(Y/n) then began banging on the door with her open hand; heavy and frantic taps that she was sure the Flame Hashira would hear the moment that he came darting to the last passenger car.

Her hunch was right, thankfully, as Kyōjurō picked up on her faint calls through the noise of the train and the ruckus that the demon was making. And hearing her voice above all of that felt akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown at him; as icy fear gripped his chest.

“(Y/n)?!” The Hashira called out, kicking down the door that the demon had sealed shut with its flesh, eyes wide with panic and his heart racing in his chest the more that he heard her banging against the door and calling out his name.

Not wasting anymore time, Kyōjurō threw a quick glance over his shoulder and huffed out a frustrated sigh as he was torn between doing another mad dash to the front of all the carriages that he was protecting.

But it was a no brainer what his choice was: it was to save (Y/n) first, because she would always be his top priority.

And so, with a small leap to get to the cargo hold, he swung down the hilt of his sword and broke the lock that held the chains together; wrenching the door open and opening his arms just in time for his beloved to jump into them.

Tears marred her cheeks, but it didn’t appear that she had noticed that she had been crying in the first place, as she made no move to wipe them away. That made him feel even worse, but he brought his left hand up to cup the back of her head as he pressed her cheek to the crook of his neck.

“I’m here, shh, you’re okay. I’m here, my love.” In any other time, the effortless use of the nickname would have made him blush so hard but, at that moment, it only brought him relief. “I have you. You’re okay.”

He didn’t know why she was even there in the first place, but it really wasn’t the time or the place to ask her that. So, he decided to just ask her later.

(Y/n)’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around Kyōjurō’s middle, as she held herself as close to him as possible. The pain she felt was beginning to intensify, and the tightness in her chest began to double— and all she could do was cry; no matter how much she forced herself to numb herself down from all the negative sensations assaulting her.

She clung as tightly as she could to the back of the Hashira’s uniform, being selfish enough to not want him to part from her— because parting from her would mean certain death for him.

There was nothing more that (Y/n) wanted than for her beloved man to stay alive— so they could make all of her wishes for their future a reality. A family with him— the house in the mountains that she wanted, all the kids that she’d only seen him looking at with a sad longing in his eyes; she wanted to make him the happiest man in the world.

But she also knew that she couldn’t let it cost anyone’s life.

“(Y/n), I have to go.” Reluctantly, the blond pulled the young woman away from him; looking down at her tear-stained face before leaning down so he could brush his lips against her. “I’ll come back for you, just stay here.”

And with that, he untangled himself from his beloved (Y/n)’s arms dived back into the foray with the demon; making as quick work of it as possible; all while protecting the rest of the passengers on the train.

It was his duty, after all.

But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want things to get over and done with as quickly as possible. Which had him really thankful— yet slightly fearful for (Y/n)’s safety— when the train derailed; sending people flying, and carriages falling to the wayside of the tracks.

Kyōjurō didn’t even wait another second to see the demon start to disintegrate, because his feet carried him towards the object of his affections; his future wife.

She had been tossed back within the luggage car, making his heart sink to his stomach as he hurriedly pushed away all of the trunks and luggage bags that were blocking her from coming to him.

Her sobs were soft and muffled as she bit down on her bottom lip, but they still felt like tiny pinpricks of ice to the Flame Hashira’s heart; especially when he saw how battered she had gotten in the fiasco.

The bruise forming on her cheek was minor, but he still found himself hugging her as tight as he could— burying his face in her hair, as she clung to him once more.

In the distance, Kyōjurō picked up another presence— one that had him looking up and surveying the area. And he found himself pulling away from (Y/n) to have his hand ready at the hilt of his sword. Whatever had come was powerful, and he wanted her nowhere near it.

“Stay here, and don’t go anywhere.”

The young woman’s eyes widened at that implication, knowing what was to come; getting her stuck in a moral dilemma, that had her pinned between a rock and another hard place. Yet, she would be damned if she didn’t admit that it hurt so much. “No, no, no, you can’t go. Please. Please, Kyōjurō. Please.”

If only she could help him, then she would have. She would have done everything in her power to help him.

Her hands tried to hold him where he was, but Kyōjurō still pulled away from her again, feeling something in his gut telling him to stay put. But he wasn’t doing that; not when he had so many people to protect— especially the person whom he was going to ask to marry him after all that had happened.

“Don’t worry about me dying here,” And so, with a reassuring smile at her, the blond whispered, “I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Those words didn’t reassure (Y/n) one bit but, before she could reach out and hold him again, the pain bearing down on her had her clutching her chest and gritting her teeth; unbeknownst to Kyōjurō, whom had just darted towards where he was sensing the newcomer’s dangerous aura.

It was as if there was a vise wrapped around (Y/n)’s neck; making her breaths come out in ragged pants, and her muscles seize up with the overall agony that coursed through her body.

And it was at that moment that she realized that, little by little, she was starting to disappear; her fingertips turning into golden dust at first, and slowly extending up to her knuckles.

“No. Not now, please. Not now,” She whimpered, completely helpless, as she stared at her shaking hands. “Fuck.”

A loud bang had her looking up from her own dilemma, making her see the bigger picture and urging her to move before she thought about it. Her legs began to carry her as fast as they could to where the cloud of dust had formed, with her being completely uncaring about how she felt and how she would end up.

What mattered to her was getting to Kyōjurō, and saving him, even if it cost her life.

Just up ahead, she could see only flashes of Akaza effortlessly fighting off Kyōjurō’s attacks, which had her pushing her legs even faster— all while more and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“KYŌJURŌ!” She cried in a broken and hoarse tone, which fell on deaf ears as he was too engrossed in fighting off the Upper Moon demon.

It had only been a mere few minutes, but the Flame Hashira was already battered and bruised; his ribs were broken, and he was sure that he was bleeding internally at that point, yet he still pushed forward.

Only stopping when he had missed and Akaza had managed to land a painful blow to his left eye. It put him at such a hard spot, yet he didn’t want to give up.

He couldn’t give up.

His breath was also coming in shaky bursts at that moment, and his entire body ached, but he was thankful for the little reprieve that he received as he geared up for one more blow; adjusting his hold on the hilt of his sword and concentrating all of his efforts into the tenth form.

However, just as he and Akaza charged forward, (Y/n)’s voice cut through Akaza’s nonsensical chatter; and it felt like the world had come to a standstill as both of them looked over to where she was.

And it was to feel his entire body go numb when he saw her starting to disintegrate; golden dust emanating from every part of her that all the fight in him almost leaving his body. Had it not been for his last-minute thinking, he wouldn’t have taken the little window that (Y/n)’s distraction provided to swing his sword and cut off the Upper Moon demon’s head.

It fell to the ground with a muffled thud, but he couldn’t care less about it then— thinking that his job was done— as he raced towards (Y/n) and caught her just in time as she collapsed to the ground.

He hadn’t even realized that he was also crying, not until he had (Y/n) cradled in his arms as she cupped his cheeks with her half-disintegrated hands. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What should I do?”

Kyōjurō’s mind was racing with so many thoughts at once, yet he could only manage to speak in broken fragments— as his sobs cut through his sentences. He sounded every inch of the broken man that he felt.

It was as if someone had just ripped his heart out right in front of him.

“I’ll… I’ll find you in your reality. I promise. You won’t ever be alone ever again, (Y/n); you mean everything to me.” His confession poured from his lips, frantic and garbled, but still legible to everyone’s ears. But what had everyone looking away was when the Flame Hashira dipped his head and claimed his beloved’s lips as the sun rose over the horizon.

Holding himself against her, all while he devolved into such loud and heartbroken sobs as he promised over and over that he would find her in her own time and reality.

After all, he was never one to back down from promises; especially when it came to the one and only love of his life.

***

When (Y/n) came to, it was to the sight of her best friend hovering above her— with her face stained with tears, and her eyes looking completely panicked. “What are you even doing here? I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour now! I thought you got kidnapped!”

Slowly, the young woman looked around her and noted that she was back at the temple in Setagaya; with her back flush against the stone pavement just behind the pagoda.

Thankfully, no one else was there to see her in such an embarrassing predicament.

“And when did you get a kimono as nice as that? Did you leave me behind just to get that? Christ, (Y/n)!” (F/n) rambled through her tears, roughly picking her best friend up by the shoulders and holding her close as she called her a dumbass over and over.

“I…” She couldn’t even answer straight, as what had transpired in the Taishō era flashed in her mind. It had her thinking if it had all been a hallucination, but when she looked down at the kimono she wore, she could tell that it wasn’t.

Because there was no other explanation for the fiery red kimono she donned, other than her traversing time and spending almost a year with Rengoku Kyōjurō. It seemed to her that time flowed differently in both realities, because she was sure that ten months had already passed.

“You what?”

“I was with him… with Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) whispered, feeling her own tears well up in her eyes, before they began falling down her cheeks. “I… he fought Akaza, and he lived… but I disappeared.”

“You’re not making any sense, (Y/n). Did you hit your head hard?” With those words, (F/n) reached up and felt for any bumps to the back of her friend’s head— only to find none. “And where’s your bag? Did you leave it somewhere?”

The young woman sat there instead of answering, completely frozen as her silent tears gradually turned into sobs. All the while, her arms wrapped themselves around her friend, and she cried her heart out— for all the things that had been, and all of the things that could have been between her and her beloved Hashira.

She didn’t even know how long they sat there on the ground but, once she was all cried out, (F/n) transferred her to one of the benches that were strewn around the temple; letting her get her bearings, before she set off to try and help her friend find her bag.

With every minute that passed, the pain in (Y/n)’s heart grew harder and harder to deal with— and she wanted nothing more than to go home at that moment, if only to curl up into a ball and try to remember the way that Kyōjurō’s lips felt against hers.

“You look so sad, my love…” The familiar voice had the aforementioned woman looking up, especially when she felt a warm and gentle hand cup her cheek and tilt her face up.

Slowly, tears that she didn’t know she could still produce welled up in her eyes— as she took in the glorious sight that Kyōjurō made in his own black kimono. He had a scar on his closed left eye, but it gave him such a rugged edge that— dare she say— was not unattractive at all. And partnered with the tears, her lips pulled up at the corners in a disbelieving yet relieved smile; something that was all for him as she sprung up and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re here! How?” Her hands clung tightly to him, curling into the material of his clothes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck— taking in the scent that was so intoxicating and entirely Kyōjurō.

“Well, I had to return your bag…” The blond chuckled, as he ensconced his beloved in his arms— brushing his lips against the crown of her head, and smiling when he felt her lips brush against his skin. “That, and I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

“Yes! Yes, but… how?” (Y/n) answered with a slight laugh, pulling back and cupping Kyōjurō’s cheeks in her hands; as if to make sure that he really was there.

The young man grinned then, taking hold of one of her hands and turning his head to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. “It took a while to arrange everything with Oyakata-sama, and to figure out how to get here, but I’m sure that one of his descendants from this time and reality would have my identification papers for me.”

Silence passed between the couple then, as (Y/n) tossed and turned his words in her head, before giving in and wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his— in a much-anticipated kiss.

She had so many questions left unanswered, and she was extremely tempted to face the gods once more and ask them what exactly was happening, but she reckoned that it was best not to challenge them anymore.

After all, she had gotten her wish: someone who would love and cherish her forever; and that man was Rengoku Kyōjurō.

BONUS:

(F/n) huffed irately as she stepped back from a thicket of bushes within the temple grounds, still feeling cross with her best friend for disappearing just like that— but not understanding what she was getting at with her explanation of meeting a manga character.

And, finally feeling defeated in her search for (Y/n)’s bag, she circled back to where she left the other woman— only to see her pulling away from a kiss with a weird looking man; someone that looked eerily similar to Rengoku from the Demon Slayer manga.

Instantly, her hackles were raised, as she let out a barking cry, “Hey, you cool cosplay bitch, get away from her!”

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows furrowed at that, as he didn’t understand a lick of what the other woman had said— but he turned back to his future wife and asked, “Is that the friend that you’d mentioned before? She seems protective. You’ve been in really good hands, then.”

“Didn’t you hear me, you weirdo? Get your hands off of (Y/n)!”

“She has my thanks for protecting you all this time.”

#rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojurou x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku senjurou #rengoku kyōjurō #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer imagines #kny imagines #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: West Coast Avengers #1: Avengers Assemble!

September, 1984

WHO will answer Hawkeye’s call to join the new team?

I assume Mockingbird? I see her silhouette in the cover box and the assumption was that she and Clint were a package deal? I don’t know what it’s being played like its not a given.

Some good or at least interesting options here for the second team.

Red Wolf, Iron Man, Puck, I thiiiiink Crystal?, Doc Sampson, Mockingbird, Cyclops, Black Widow, Wonder Man, Tigra, Quicksilver, Hercules, Ant-Man, Namor, and the Shroud.

A lot of interesting options. I really want it to be Cyclops and I know its not going to be Cyclops.

STOP TEASING ME WITH AVENGERS CYCLOPS IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GIVE IT TO ME!

Also, this issue #1 of West Coast Avengers. Or at least the first issue #1. The team is introduced in a four issue miniseries before getting an ongoing - and a second issue #1 - about a year later.

This will be moderately confusing for my numbering but I’m brave enough to barrel on through anyway.

Last time in Avengers: Vision became the chairman of the Avengers and announced that due to the threat of the Dire Wraiths, the Avengers would be opening up a West Coast team led by newly married Hawkeye. In one page reminders of the subplot in various issues, Hawkeye and Mockingbird arrived in Los Angeles, went real estate shopping, and set up a new HQ in a nice compound that used to belong to an actress.

The team is only missing one thing.

A team.

Maybe it’s just me but I’d think that you’d get the team sorted out before you spent who knows how much renovating a compound up to the level required for a superhero team.

It’s going to be really embarrassing if you open a new Avengers team and nobody comes.

(Vision agrees and has taken the liberty of reaching out to several likely candidates.)

Mockingbird confirms that Hawkeye has invited her onto the team but she’s not even sure she’s Avengers material, she doesn’t even have powers.

Hawkeye: “Neither does Captain America! Neither do I! If I can be an Avenger -- !”

Mockingbird: “Anyone can, right?”

Hawkeye: “And people wonder why you took the code-name Mockingbird!”

Haha! I do like their chemistry!

He does clarify that its totally not just because she’s married to him (although I would point out that he kept trying to get Black Widow on the team based on them dating) but that she’s totally earned it! She has years of experience as a SHIELD agent!

Hawkeye calls Vision to let him know that the place is all set up and Vision lets him know about the reaching out to several likely candidates biz.

BOOM SCENE TRANSITION TO DOWNTOWN SAN FRANCISCO at the office of private investigator Jessica Drew.

Because, yeah, Jessica Drew did the PI thing as an ex-superhero way before Jessica Jones. And Jessica Jones is probably Drew with some of the serial numbers scratched off.

ANYWAY, she’s talking to hardboiled Tigra, who helped her on the Enselmo case.

Jessica Drew: “I still laugh when I think about the way you ran our pigeon up and down Telegraph Hill!”

Tigra: “That was the best part of the case! After all... bringing pigeons to ground is second nature to a lady who’s half-cat!”

Jessica tries to offer Tigra a job (since this is before the internet and Tigra can’t find a lot of modeling jobs for models covered with fur) but Jessica’s secretary interrupts with a call for Tigra.

The call sounds ominous from Jess only hearing half of it but I’m 99.9% sure its Vision offering Tigra a spot on the West Coast Avengers.

Read Tigra’s replies with that context and you’ll laugh.

Tigra tells Jess that she’s got to book it to LA for business that she has to settle on her own but they’ll talk about Jess’ offer later.

Tigra: “Don’t worry, I’m a big girl... I can make my own mistakes!”

I feel like a little bit of clarification would have gone a long way here, Tigra.

Because Jessica assumes that Tigra is in trouble and decides to call someone to tail (ha) Tigra.

Meanwhile, a car chase in the Mojave Desert.

To cut to the car chase, this is a movie set filming a stunt spectacular car chase scene for what I’m pretty sure is James Bond.

Pyrotechnics are easy if you don’t stress blowing up the stuntman.

Because he’s near invulnerable.

The stuntman (Simon Williams, Wonder Man) does need to have buckets of water thrown on him to cool him off after being in an explosion but he’s otherwise fine.

Cool that Wonder Man found an acting job he can handle. He seems pretty thrilled with it.

One of the staff on set tells Simon that his trailer is buzzing and he realizes its his Avengers transceiver.

He receives his offer from Vision (although apparently a much more vague one than Tigra) and flies off after making sure he has no more stunts scheduled for the day.

An hour later and hundreds of miles elsewhere, Iron Man (the James Rhodes version) is flying around, minding his own business, thinking about how cool it is to have relocated to California to help Tony Stark open a new business, admiring the Standord University Linear Accelerator Center.

Just as he’s thinking that he hopes that Tony isn’t in a hurry to being Iron Man since he’s gotten used to it, Vision cuts in on the secret Iron Man radio frequency to call him in to the meeting.

Iron Man arrives twenty minutes later at the West Avengers compound on the Palos Verdes Peninsula bluffs and paraphrased does an impressed whistle at what a nice place it is.

Iron Man: “Some spread! This looks like the kinda place Tony would’ve hung out... before he lost Stark International! The best part of being his pilot in those days was ferrying him to spots like this! Who’d have thought I’d ever be invited on my own? Then again, who’d have thought little Jimmy Rhodes would grow up to be Iron Man?!”

Future knowledge bums me out a little with this. This is spoilers for a year from now and several issues from now but in the time gap between the West Coast Avengers limited series and the ongoing, Tony does take over being Iron Man again. I hope you enjoy all this while it lasts, Rhodey. And hey, War Machine is only like eight years away!

Tigra arrives and starts acting familiar with Iron Man because she thinks she knows its Tony and they were teammates for a bit.

She ditches the briefly identity obscuring trenchcoat and hat because dammit she has a year round fur coat and its hot in California!

She also might be flirting, although hopefully not as bad as she’ll get later in the ongoing. Spoilers for a year and several issues for now but it is a bafflingly bad subplot that Tigra gets given.

The other reason I bring it up is that this is the exact situation that led Rhodey to quit the Avengers when he became Iron Man. He felt it would be awkward interacting with people who already knew Iron Man well.

I guess he’s more comfortable with it now.

The West Coast Avengers roster that we already know about are all people who either quit the Avengers or don’t feel like they’d be a good fit. Which is just a great start so I’m interested to see if we’ll get justifications for why they’d sign up the minute a franchise opens.

Hawkeye takes Tigra and Iron Man off on a tour while a mysterious shrouded figure watches.

The tour concludes without us seeing the tour, boo. But it comes up that neither Iron Man or Tigra know why they’re here.

Iron Man was just told he was needed but didn’t get any more details. We know that Wonder Man got the same vagueness. And Tigra was just offered a $1000 dollar stipend to fly out to LA and see if she could “help the Avengers out!”

So Hawkeye gives them the sales pitch.

That Captain America made it a rule that except in emergencies, the Avengers’ roster would be limited to six members. But Vision decided that they need more than six Avengers but wanted to keep the team from becoming unwieldy so told Hawkeye to set up an expansion team: the West Coast Avengers!

It’ll basically be the same thing as the original Avengers in terms of by-laws and rights and privileges and both groups will be affiliated but the West Coast Avengers will be running their own show west of the Rockies.

If everyone here agrees to sign up, that’ll make a team of five with a sixth spot to fill.

But Tigra objects that she left the original team because she felt out of her depth and why would that be different here?

Ah, now there it is.

Justify it, Hawkeye.

Except he doesn’t because the intruder alarm goes off.

The intruder alarm all the way in the first basement level, which means their intruder has already penetrated deep into the compound and bypassed a lot of the security systems.

Hawkeye is sure that the intruder is actually a highly organized commando raid and he’s instantly proven wrong with an infrared scan shows just one guy.

Womp womp.

Hawkeye is also sure that however this just one guy got as far as he did, the security system in the next area will totally--

Womp womp.

Hawkeye is fed up at this point and seals off the security levels, forcing the dude back through the domestic areas. He then orders Iron Man, Tigra, and Mockingbird to split up to cover more ground that way and surround the intruder.

Not having much better to do, they do, but everyone has some misgivings in their thinky thoughts.

Iron Man: Hawk sounds like he really gets into giving orders. I don’t know if I like that.

Tigra: I must be some sort of masochist to get involved with Avengers again! They always seem to know what they’re doing... not like me! What am I doing here? What am I trying to prove?

Hawkeye: Should I let the others catch our intruder... or rush in and collar him myself? How would Cap handle this?

Mockingbird: Poor Hawk... He wants so much to be a good leader! I know he can do it, but I wish he wouldn’t try quite so hard! In a way, though, it’s funny... His first act as leader was having the team split up!

Mockingbird is the first to run into the intruder, suddenly being enveloped in a cloud of darkness. She can’t see anything but hears someone moving and launches one of her staves from her spring-loaded sleeve launcher.

Its a near miss, breaking a lamp instead of the intruder, who turns out to be Shroud. Y’know, that friend of Jessica Drew’s we met in that two-parter about saving Jessica Drew’s ghost?

Shroud realizes how skilled Mockingbird is and that he might have trouble if he takes her lightly so he goes right for the Vulcan neck pinch, knocking out Mockingbird. But she hits Shroud in the stomach guts with her second stave as she’s passing out.

Hawkeye then shows up, concerned that he hasn’t run into Mockingbird yet and drawn to the cloud of darkness, except not the Final Fantasy villain.

He shoots a light arrow, except not the Legend of Zelda powerup, into the cloud to no real effect so shrugs and shoots a sonic arrow instead.

Shroud flees the area and Hawkeye finds Mockingbird who tells him to shut up with the EEEEE arrow.

Hawkeye: “Where’d our man go?”

Mockingbird: “How should I know? It was dark!”

Hah.

The cloud of darkness passes through the area of the mansion/compound that Tigra is in and she recognizes it as Shroud’s darkness. She calls out to him but he doesn’t hear her because he’s in another wing about to be tackled by Iron Man who can see Shroud with his in-helmet radar.

Controlling darkness is all well and good until technology.

Ain’t it said, Rumia?

Shroud is also blind so all he knows is that an armored man is lunging at him until Iron Man calls him a fool for trespassing on Avengers turf.

And that’s when he realizes that he done goofed.

Hmm. What is that symbol on Shroud’s hood, anyway? It looks kinda like Aku.

Shroud manages to escape Iron Man’s grasp, sacrificing some of his neat cape. Although, it tears into an even cooler look so is it really a sacrifice?

He decides that he’s just going to get out of here.

Shroud: Have to get undercover and think out my next move. I don’t want to fight Avengers! That could become a life’s work -- and I have better things to do!

I can’t decide whether he means that he’d be at it all day or that this misunderstanding fight would lead him down an unwilling path of villainy as some third-string grudge holder.

Probably the former?

Anyway, Shroud is just leaping over the balcony when Wonder Man finally arrives and spots him. And unfortunately for Shroud’s ribs, he has been cultivating a reputation as a crimelord so Wonder Man flies in and tackles him into a tree.

Womp womp, except for Shroud this time.

Tigra shows up and jumps on Wonder Man from forty feet away to stop him from hurting Shroud any further, explaining that he’s her friend.

Shroud: “I’m certainly glad I’m not an enemy... I’d hate to think how I’d be treated then!”

Hah.

Later, in the medical room, I guess, Mockingbird applies bandages to Shroud’s ribs except on the outside of his costume. Does... does that do anything? Obviously not for open wounds. But for bruised bones, I guess the point is compression. But it feels less than ideal because he’d have to take off the bandages to take off his shirt. Just feels better to apply the bandages under the clothes, MOCKINGBIRD.

What makes it weirder is that we see him a couple panels later pulling his shirt down over the bandages. Which makes me think Mockingbird bandaged him on top of his costume and he had to pull his costume top out from under them and pull it down. He didn’t just stop her because that would be rude?

Shroud explains that Jessica Drew asked him to keep an eye on Tigra because of how the phone call made her act all weird. He followed Tigra from the airport to here and ran into a gaggle of superheroes. 

In the meantime, Hawkeye has verified Shroud with a report Captain America filed on him so Hawkeye believes he’s a good guy now.

Wonder Man and Iron Man apologize for going in swinging and Tigra for not just telling Jessica what the call was about. But Shroud tells them no permanent harm done.

Hawkeye decides to offer Shroud the last spot on the team (assuming that everyone already invited is going to choose to stay).

Hawkeye: “That trick you do with the dark is one slick little number... and anyone who can hold his own against us as long as you did obviously has what it takes in the skill department. Besides, what you did reminds me a little of how I introduced myself to the Avengers -- I broke in, too! Come on... What do you say?”

Shroud say... no.

He’s honored and a couple years earlier he would have jumped at the chance. But Wonder Man’s assumption didn’t come from nowhere. Shroud has been spending the last many months building up his outlaw rep so he can take down gangs from the inside.

Like the Green Hornet, I guess?

But since it’d be hard to be an Avenger West Coast AND keep up the fake outlaw thing, Shroud has to turn them down.

Shroud then pulls his cloud of darkness disappearing trick and nopes out.

With all that tied up, Wonder Man asks whats the big thing that Vision called him out for, leading an exasperated Hawkeye to start his West Coast Avengers sales pitch from the top.

Mockingbird: “That’s the spirit, fearless leader! Just remember, it can only get better from here!”

Hah.

So, that was the first issue of West Coast Avengers.

And there’s still no West Coast Avengers team.

Tigra and Iron Man still have reservations about the idea. Wonder Man has no idea why he’s there.

Its an interesting decision to hit the ground walking with this team. But it makes sense. The initial plan wasn’t for the West Coast Avengers to get an ongoing. This limited series was supposed to establish the concept, give a few Avengers affiliated characters something to be doing off-panel, and be able to be pulled in for crossovers and guest appearances as needed.

So the book can focus more on Hawkeye’s trials in actually getting this team going. He’s finally gotten to be a leader of the Avengers like he’s always wanted and now has to deal with all the frustration that Captain America or Hank Pym had with him, and then some.

Still, funny that the West Coast Avengers’ first adventure has them not only not a team yet but spending their time beating up a friend due to mistaken identity.

Will they get their act together by the next issue? Only time will tell. I tell a lie because Chronos never spoils stories. Only me will tell or maybe the Internet.

Follow @essential-avengers​ for the rest of the West Coast Avengers limited series. And for eventual bafflement when they get an ongoing. Also, like and reblog.

#avengers #West Coast Avengers #essential avengers #Hawkeye #Mockingbird #Tigra #Iron Man #James Rhodes #Wonder Man #the Shroud #Jessica Drew #essential marvel liveblogging

[heyitsani]

When the Dark of the Night Comes Alive

Word Count: 9214

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Zombies?  But you don’t really see them except one part

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Roy Harper/Koriand’r

Summary: It's been three years since the world went to hell and zombies became a thing of reality and not just fiction. While out on a supply run with his usual crew, Jason picks up a stray that will change the course of everything.

Notes: This was supposed to be for JayDick Week, but life happened and I wasn't able to finish it. It's still technically not finished since there's an epilogue coming. But I wanted to post those two separately. So here is the main part of the story. Enjoy!

Also, I did next to no editing on this. I'll go back and clean it up. So sorry for any mistakes.

You can also read it on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jayjay,” the familiar voice rasped.  “Jayjay you need to remember, okay?  Don’t forget.”

“Don’t forget what, Mama?”

“Don’t forget that the cure is in the blood.  Don’t forget. The angels, they said it.  They said you would know.  You would do it.  Don’t forget.”

“I don’t understand, Mama.”

“Don’t forget, Jayjay. The cure is in the blood.”

“Boss,” a firm, but quiet voice broke through the hazy dreamlike memory, a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake.  Blinking up, Jason let his eyes adjust to the dark room enough to see one of his men leaning over him.  Since it was still night, that meant something had happened or was happening.

Sitting up, he ran a hand over his face.  “What is it?” Kyle gave him a curious look before he straightened and glanced over his shoulder.  “Rayner, the fuck is it?”

“Someone’s in the house.” That snapped Jason to full alert and he immediately stood to his feet, quietly grabbing his gun that was sitting next to his sleeping bag.  “We didn’t engage, they’re in the kitchen.”  Which meant they were probably hungry.  Not surprising given the state of the world the past few years, but it was still a dangerous headspace to be in.  Desperate enough and you would probably easily kill the first person who had food to steal.

He was curious how the person had managed to slip pass their watch, but that was a question for another time.  First, he had to deal with whoever it was that had stumbled upon the exact house he and his crew were staying in for the night.  Which meant he was walking down the stairs, trying to make no noise to give away the fact that someone else was in the house.

He gave a nod to Rose, who was crouched behind a chair in the living room, watching whoever it was with her gun in hand.  And whoever it was had no qualms about being quiet because Jason could hear the person shoving things around as they searched.  

With a careful click, Jason pulled the safety off his gun but keeping the barrel pointed at the ground, glancing around the corner to see the back of what looked like a man from the short cut hair in the back and the cut of his body hidden beneath the black leather jacket and dark jeans.  From what he could see, Jason couldn’t make out any weapons and for that he was glad. He didn’t particularly enjoy fighting with those who were not infected.

“Show me your hands,” he growled, raising the gun to aim at the man who was crouched near the ground as he dug through a cabinet.  “Now,” he ordered when the person made no attempt to move.  There was a huff followed by two hands raising in the air, both empty.  “Stand up and turn around slowly.”  With a grace that Jason wasn’t sure he had ever seen before, he watched the figure ease themselves upright and spin slowly, as requested.  And then Jason was face to face with the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

And he wished that were an exaggeration.

But the hair that was cut short in the back, hung in the man’s eyes in the front.  Eyes that even in the dark, Jason could tell were a startling blue.  Cheekbones that would probably cut glass, and miles upon miles of golden skin.  And though the leather jacket added bulk to his form it didn’t take away from the lean, strong line of his body beneath it. It had been a long time since Jason had felt so attracted to someone right off the bat, but damn if he didn’t want to lower his gun just on the man’s looks alone.

“Who are you?”  Jason asked instead of following his instincts. He had people to protect.

“Name’s Dick.”  Jason waited for more, but when nothing else came he gave an annoyed sigh.

Dropping the gun down to his side, he clicked the safety back on but didn’t tuck it away like he would have if the threat were eliminated.  He watched Dick regard his motions curiously, head tilting to the side. And though Jason dropped his weapon, Dick kept his hands up almost in appeasement.  But something told Jason he didn’t exactly need a weapon to take down a man.  “What are you doing here, Dick?  Are there others with you?”  

“I’d like to think it’s pretty obvious what I was doing,” the man said with raised eyebrows.  “And as for the other question, just me.  Been just me for a while now.”  With narrowed eyes, Jason looked him over and wondered why he didn’t look worse for the wear then.  He looked almost…healthy.  It wasn’t how solos usually looked when they came across them.  

“Suspect, Boss,” Kyle muttered behind him and Jason just grunted.  He got what the man was implying, it was suspicious.  But something told Jason to trust Dick. Something deep in his core said it was okay, just this once, to follow his gut.  Not that his gut had ever been wrong in the past.

“At ease,” he called out to the three others in various places behind him.  Tucking the gun into the back of his pants, he relaxed his shoulders and watched Dick carefully lower his arms.  But the fact that he hadn’t dropped eye contact with Jason put the man at ease.  He wasn’t looking for others to jump in and help him.  Rarely did pairs or groups mean good people.  Jason had never had luck with anyone riding in pairs or more. “I’m Jason,” he said, moving forward and holding out a hand.  Dick took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake, Jason tried not to think about the power he could feel in the grip.  Instead, he released it and turned to the others.  “That’s Kyle, Biz, and Rose.  Don’t let her name fool you, she’ll lay you out in a heartbeat.”

Dick gave the others a nod, eyes lingering on Rose curiously and Jason resisted the urge to sigh.  Men always thought they stood a chance with her and then they realized that she was too big a handful for them.  For once, he had been hoping to come across a man who didn’t look at Rose that way.  He glanced over at Rose to see her watching him just as carefully.

“I know your father,” Dick said suddenly, and Jason whipped his head to look back at him, finding him still looking at Rose.  Jason felt himself frowning as he turned to look at Rose again and found her standing there with wide eyes.  Her reaction was curious enough but the fact that a supposed stranger had a connection to one of his crew, that was suspicious.

“Like I said…” Kyle spoke up before heading back up the stairs to most likely resume his watch from the second story window that looked out onto the street below.

Rose didn’t move for a moment and Jason took a step toward her but then she was brushing past him and heading over to the newcomer.  Jason kept his distance as he watched the pair whisper to one another.  He was tempted to move closer and try and catch some of the conversation, but he knew better than to push something Rose didn’t want to talk about.  All he knew was her father and her were estranged and that he was “dead to her”.

He wondered what kind of relationship Dick had had with someone Rose so thoroughly hated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, Kyle said the stray you picked up should have a spotter.”  Jason looked up from his work to see his best friend Roy walking into the lab.  “Said he didn’t trust the situation that brought him to us.  And said you went about it in a way that wasn’t normal for you.  He also mentioned that he knows Rose’s dad, who none of us know anything about except that he’s bad news.”

“Oh, is that all Kyle said?”

Roy let out a snort and Jason just rolled his eyes.  “I told him to fuck off and that you’ve never put this camp at risk.”  Jason just shrugged, because what could he say?  Roy was right.  He wouldn’t risk the people they were charged with keeping safe.  Not even for a pretty face.  “But want to tell me why he thinks you’re thinking with your dick and not your head?”

“Cause I turned him down for a quick fuck the night before Dick stumbled into the same house as us and he’s pissed,” Jason admitted.  Pulling his glasses off, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sat down on the stool behind him.  “And I don’t want to hear it,” he said, pointing his glasses at Roy.  Who held both his hands up in a placating motion, despite the amused twinkle in his eye.  “Fuck you.”

“Oh, come on,” Roy laughed, leaning both his arms onto the counter where Jason had various vials and a few microscopes out.  “I’m not that big of a dick to rub your face in the fact that I was right about him being a clingy bastard who doesn’t understand the no strings attached rules.”

“Fucking shit, Harper. Just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Nope.”  Roy laughed and Jason shook his head, letting out a chuckle of his own.  “But seriously, he’s acting like a jealous ex-lover and that means he picked up on something.”

Jason put his glasses back on and pointedly didn’t respond, leaning back to look at the slides on the scope in front of him before jotting down some notes in his notebook.

“Jay.”

“Fuck off.”

“He is definitely a good-looking man.”  Jason continued to ignore him despite knowing he was playing right into Roy’s hand. “And helpful.  Kory said he immediately jumped in to help with some of the new buildings and asked around to see how he could help the others.” Jason only grunted in response.  He liked knowing the man wanted to pull his own weight without having to be asked to do it. “He also asked if he could be on the crew that goes out to scavenge next.”  That was curious, enough so that Jason actually looked over at Roy. “Strange for someone to want to go out so soon, huh?  Of course, it was only after hearing that you were the one who always lead those ventures.”

“Got a point here, Harper? I’m working on something for your wife, and I doubt she’d appreciate me taking longer because of you.”  

Roy just laughed.

“Seriously, Roy.  What are you implying here?”

“Just that maybe you should get out of the lab and take a walk around the East Bend.  Might find something a bit more enticing than…Rayner.” And though the implication was heavy, Roy didn’t wait around to make sure Jason understood.  He simply turned and headed back out the way he came, leaving Jason to wonder what the fuck he was thinking making Roy his best friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Supplies are good boss,” Kyle commented as he and Biz presented the checklists they were tasked with every week to make sure each division of the compound had enough to get them through the next month.  Though it was overly cautious, Jason liked the men to check every two weeks to be sure everyone had what they needed.  In the beginning there had been too many times when their supplies had run out and they had desperately gone on supply runs that had ended in someone’s death or near-death.  They had come a long way in the three years they had been in this location.

But still Jason liked to be sure they didn’t get in a bad spot again.  “What about Kory?  Did she say she needed any supplies for the upcoming frosts?  It’s getting to be that time of year and she needs to protect the plants on the West rooftop.”

“I can answer that,” a voice sounded near the entrance of his lab and Jason couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Dick filling his doorway.  “Roy is currently helping reenforce the plant beds, but he and I have been building greenhouse structures to erect around them before the frosts actually hit. We should have them done in the next day or so.”  The man walked further into the room and Jason ignored the way Kyle seemed to tense up next to him as he did.

Dick didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care.  Whatever it was, Jason wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Instead he took the paper that Dick held out to him.  “What’s this?”

“A list from Kory. She said you’d know what to do with it.” Jason furrowed his brow as he unfolded the paper and read Kory’s elegant handwriting.  Fertilizer.  Yeah, he definitely knew what she needed.  He knew he had everything, but he was running low on a few things.  And that meant a supply run in the next couple of weeks.

“Thanks Dick,” Jason gave the man a nod as he folded up the paper again and looked over at Kyle, who was watching Dick with narrowed eyes.  Jason could see Biz regarding the interaction curiously, but knew the man would keep his thoughts to himself for the time being.  “Rayner, we’re going to need to do a run in the next two weeks.  You and Rose can plan out the route while Dick, Biz and I get the packs together.”  That snapped Kyle’s attention away from Dick.  And though Jason knew exactly what the man was thinking, he simply raised an eyebrow as a challenge.

“Sure thing.  You’re the boss,” Kyle grumbled before grabbing the lists in front of his and heading toward the door.  Jason sighed at the sight of Dick jerking when Kyle bumped into him on his way past, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.  

But it was Dick’s reaction that was curious.  The man watched Kyle go with a thoughtful look on his face before turning back to smile at Jason.  “I could help him and Rose, if you like?  Show them where I was before I found you all.  There had been a few pods of infected that had infested some of the surrounding cities and towns.”  And though Jason thought that was smart, he knew better than to antagonize Kyle that way.

“Nah, Biz and I could use the help.  Packing for five is more complicated than packing for four.  We’ll get started tomorrow.  It’ll take Kyle and Rose a few days to get the plan worked out and I have a few projects to finish before we head out.”  He waved the paper from Kory as proof.  Dick seemed to take it all in stride, nodding and glancing around the lab.

“I’ll head back out then. Biz, Roy and I could use some muscle,” Dick smiled at the large man and Biz chuckled before clapping Jason on the back and heading toward the door.  “See you later, Jay,” Dick called out over his shoulder as they headed out, sending a smirk to the man before walking out.

Remaining in his spot at the table, Jason sighed and shook his head.  He wasn’t sure bringing Dick along on a supply run that Kyle was on was a good idea but he had to admit that he wanted the newest addition to join them. He had been enjoying the time he had been spending getting to know the raven haired man.  The way it seemed like everything was a brand new experience and how he found joy in the simplest of things.  It was a refreshing take on life, one Jason hadn’t seen in a very long time. And though Kyle was still trying his cards, Jason had to admit that his sights had settled on Dick and didn’t seem to want to stray.

Which made things a lot more complicated than Jason wanted to admit.  The casual thing with Kyle had brought a mess to his feet.  But he didn’t want casual with Dick.  No, there was just something about the man that had him wanting to stay up late talking about the stupidest of things.  Or laughing over more coffee with sleep-mused hair and wrinkles clothes.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted that with someone.  It should have worried or frightened him, but it just made him hopeful.

“Eh Boss!”  Jason sighed at the sound of someone calling for him from outside and pushed the thoughts of Dick away so he could handle whatever it was that he was needed for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason watched from a distance as Dick and Rose spoke to each other near one of the more abandoned areas of the compound.  It had been a complete accident that he had stumbled across them, having just gone out for a walk around the perimeter for some fresh air after having been cooped up in the lab for the past couple of hours.  It was late afternoon and the majority of the citizens of the compound were finishing up their daily tasks and preparing for dinner.

But Dick and Rose were clearly in a serious conversation.

And that made Jason wonder if this had something to do with Rose’s father.  He hadn’t gotten the chance to bring it up to the woman when they had met up to discuss the next trip beyond the walls earlier.  But he had planned on it before they had packed to leave. Because it the curiosity was killing him.

And he wanted to know more about something Rose always kept so close to her chest.  No one knew anything about her family.  Or her past before the virus.  No one except Dick.

“Jason!”  Dick turned, smiling brightly at him.  Jason narrowed his eyes slightly and looked between the pair before raising a brow at Rose.  He rolled his eyes when she shut her features down and went blank.  The universal Rose sign that she wasn’t saying shit.  “Enjoying some fresh air?  Rose and I were just talking about the possibility of setting up a training ground out here.  I saw Roy has some weapons that people might benefit in learning.”

Closing the distance between him and the two of them, Jason looked out over the open field.  He had always assumed they would expand the gardens out here when they outgrew the rooftops Kory had established.  But he could see the idea having merit.  “I mean, you can ask him.  It’s his specialty.  He worked security before the outbreak and his adoptive father was big on the bow.”

Rose gave a grunt before Jason watched her and Dick exchange a look he couldn’t decipher and she turned to leave without saying anything to either of them.

“Is that really what you two were discussing?”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Not even close,” he said. “I just know Rose well enough to know she plays her cards pretty close to the chest.  And the fact that you know her dad takes a little of that power away from her.”  Jason watched Dick’s face darken slightly, his smile turning to a frown as the shadow passed over his features.  “So, he’s really that bad.”

Dick pursed his lips and looked out into the distance, looking like he was considering how to answer that.  “He is…he has caused a lot of harm.  But the harm he caused was…”  Dick paused and Jason wondered if he was about to be lied to.  “It was how it was supposed to happen.”  Jason frowned.  How the hell was harm ever supposed to be what should happen?  “It is hard to explain, but Rose is right to hate her father.”

“You know that makes absolutely no sense, right?”  Dick hummed and turned, starting to walk back toward the main part of the compound. Jason took a moment to study the man before hurrying to join him.

“It is not my story to tell.”  He wanted to growl in frustration.  He just couldn’t understand why people couldn’t just say the truth and be done with it.  “I will tell you my own experiences with Slade have been uncomfortable and ones I would very much like to forget ever happened.  At his core, he has the potential to be a good man, but he has been corrupted and it has changed the man Rose knew into the man I know.”

And even though Dick didn’t say what he meant by the word “uncomfortable”, Jason had a pretty good idea what it meant.  And it made his blood boil.  

“I won’t push,” Jason promised as they made their way back into the center of the community, “but if you need to talk…”  He saw Dick look at him out of the corner of his eye but kept his forward and allowed the man his emotional space.

“You are an extraordinary man, Jason Todd.  You are a gift to this world.”

Furrowing his brow at the odd choice in wording, Jason looked over at Dick and found him looking skyward.  The image he presented, head back with his raven hair having fallen out of his eyes and golden skin practically glowing under the late afternoon sun, Jason would have sworn he was angelic.

“Dick!”  A voice from somewhere called out for the man, pulling both their attentions.

“Hey Tim,” Dick smiled before looking over to Jason.  “I’ll see you at dinner, I’m sure.”  Nodding his head in response, he watched Dick walk away to talk to the young man who had called for him.  He observed Dick throw an arm around Tim’s shoulders and lead him away, chatting animatedly.  Such a contrast to how he had been speaking with Rose just moments ago.  

But Jason knew when he wasn’t going to get his way.  So he told himself to drop it and headed back to his lab to get a bit more work in before the call for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have you ever tried drawing the blood of an infected?”  Dick asked as he sat down across from Jason with his plate of food.  It was such a random question, but something about it made him pause.  Something familiar about it.  Dick must have assumed his silence was confusion and waved a hand.  “I mean, do you know what the disease looks like when you see it on a molecular level?  Kory said you’re the resident expert on this sort of thing.”

Straightening up in his chair, Jason furrowed his brow.  “It is and I have.  I have samples of it in the lab.  Something about what you said…”  It was one of those moments where something was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t figure out what it was for the life of him.

But there was definitely something he was supposed to be remembering that lined up with this.

“Wow, I can’t tell you the last time I had pasta and meatballs,” Dick muttered, taking another bite of his food.  When Jason looked at him, the man had a spot of sauce at the corner of his mouth and without pausing to think of how epically awkward he would make things, he reached across the table and thumbed the sauce away.  It wasn’t until his thumb was in his mouth that he noticed Dick’s eyes had gone wide and a faint blush had spread across his cheeks.

“Uh…sorry.”  Jason gave a shrug and ducked his head in embarrassment, cursing himself for not thinking.

He only looked up when Dick cleared his throat and reached for his drink.  “So…the blood.”  Jason nodded as he watched Dick drink his water, ignoring what the sight of the man’s Adam’s apple bobbing did to his stomach.  Or lower regions.  “Have you ever isolated the virus?”

“Yeah, sure.  I’ve got some slides.  The thing is,” Jason latched onto the subject like air, “it needs a host.  None of the cells have survived for long without blood to latch onto.  It was one of the first things I tried to do.  If I could isolate it then I could reverse it, right?”  Dick leaned forward and nodded, listening more intently than anyone outside of Kory ever did.  “But it dies too quickly to do it.”

He watched Dick’s eyes narrow and brows merge together, almost as if he was suspicious of something. But then the look smoothed out and he looked back down at his plate to fork another bite.  “Well, have you ever tried to attach it to fresh blood?  Like draw a vial of your own and see how the virus latches on?  I’m not a scientist, but maybe it has more to do with blocking the progress than reversing the damage.”  

The cure is in the blood, Jayjay.

Jason’s hand froze with his own fork halfway to his mouth when the voice of his mother filled his mind. For years he listened to her drug induced rambling about some cure and how the blood was important.  He made promise after promise to never forget because the angels had told her that he needed to know that.  That he specifically had needed to know the cure is in the blood.  But why did Dick’s idea make him remember that?  

“Jason?”  Looking across the table at Dick, he found the man frowning in concern.  “You okay? Did I step on your toes?  I really don’t know what I’m talking about.  It’s just something someone said once.  Ignore me.”

Pushing to his feet, Jason shook his head.  “No, it’s not that.  I…”  He glanced around the room for a head of fiery red curls, zeroing in on them at the far end of the room.  “I need to go.  Thanks, Dick!”  He grabbed his plate and quickly handed it over to one of the people on kitchen duty for the day before rushing over to Kory.  “I need you in the lab,” he breathed out, sending Roy an apologetic look for interrupting their dinner.  The man just frowned, and Kory stood without questioning the request.  

“I’ll take care of it, Babe,” Roy said when Kory went to pick up her tray.  Jason started heading out as they said their goodbyes, knowing Kory would catch up with him.  

“What is it that you need?” She asked when she appeared next to him just as he was heading outside.  He shook his head, not sure if he even knew the answer to that.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of crumpled paper and a pen he kept with him at all times, and tried to write as he walked.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “Dick just said something to me and I’m not even sure what it means. But I know it means something.” He scribbled a formula down and passed it over to Kory, who looked at it before looking back to him with a raised brow. “I know!  I know it looks crazy, but maybe…”

He scratched the back of his neck as they walked, thinking of drawing his own blood and some of Kory’s to do a side by side.  Maybe watching the virus latch to different samples at the same time would reveal something.  But something inside him told him it had to be his own blood.

The cure is in the blood, Jayjay.

He knew his mother had told him that on multiple occasions, but how could she have known about all of this? She had died so many years before he had even decided to pursue biology as his field of study.  There’s no way she could have.  It didn’t make sense.

“I know your idea face when I see it, Jason,” Kory interrupted his thoughts.  “You are rarely wrong when an idea hits you.  Do not smother it because you don’t yet understand it.  I trust your instincts.  Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Kor.  This one is going to be a dozey.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” a familiar voice broke through his writing, pulling his attention from the calculations to see Dick walking into his lab.  Jason couldn’t help but smile at the man as he made his way over, hands in his pockets and glancing around at all the various equipment Jason had out to run the most recent round of experiments.  “It’s been a few days since I’ve seen you, so I thought I’d check and make sure you’re still being fed and watered appropriately as humans need to survive.”

Snorting out a laugh, Jason set his pencil down and removed his glasses.  “Kory and Roy both make sure I get my three-square meals a day and stay hydrated.  Though, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take over a shift or two.”  Dick paused for a moment before continuing to close the distance between them, stopping on the opposite side of the desk Jason was currently using.  Jason watched his eyes scan over the pages spread out over the desk, head tilting as he paused to read one in particular before moving onto the next.  “Do you understand any of it?”  He asked curiously.

Dick hummed and shook his head before leaning a hip against the desk.  “I am not a person of science,” he admitted.  Jason had a feeling that was the case, given the way Dick had presented him with the idea.  As if it had been someone else’s and his imagination had just run with it.  But he had been right.  Or mostly right, at least.  “The human mind is an incredible place, isn’t it?  A mass of tissue and electricity running the show.”

Jason let out a surprised laugh.  “That’s….that’s definitely one way to describe it.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone put it so plainly.”

“But at the base that’s all a human is, isn’t it?  Ruled by a mess of electrical currents up here,” Dick tapped his temple and flicked his eyebrow upward.  Jason supposed he was right and gave a nod.  It was curious when you tried to think about it, but he doubted anyone would ever really know how a human really functions at their core.

“Have you had success then?”

Looking down at his papers for a moment before looking back to Dick, Jason nodded.  “Yes, but not in the way you’re probably thinking.  There’s something in my own blood that seems to repel the virus.  But when I drew Kory and Roy’s blood, the reaction wasn’t the same.”  Jason shifted through his papers to find the ones where the findings were noted.  “There is something within my own blood that seems to fight the virus.  An enzyme maybe?  I’m not sure.  But if I can figure it out, I can try to reproduce it.  And if I can reproduce it…”

“You can mass produce it.”

“Exactly!”  Jason smiled, giddy at the prospect.  “A cure.  It could be a cure.  Not for those who have already turned but for those who have been bitten?  It could prevent them from turning.  It could be a miracle.”

The smile on Dick’s face looked almost relieved and Jason wanted to question him about it, but then there was that fondness that had become so familiar in his gaze and Jason couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks.  

“I suppose I should leave you to it then,” Dick spoke softly, his fingers tapping the papers in front of Jason.  “You have a race to save.”  Jason laughed and shook his head, the hope bubbling up inside of him at the prospect of being able to do this for humanity.  “You’re a gift, Jason Todd.  Don’t ever forget that.”  And though Dick had said those words a few times before, they seemed to have a different meaning this time.  Almost like Dick had known this would be the outcome all along.  But the man was gone before he could bother to ask him about that comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How do you test it? Do we just have someone get bitten and then see if it works?”  Roy asked as he zipped up Jason’s bag for the supply run that was leaving in a few minutes. Jason had been slacking on his pack but thankfully Roy had noticed and taken care of it, since Jason’s mind was obviously elsewhere.

With a shrug, Jason took the pack.  “I have no clue.  It works on the blood samples.  The virus is completely gone on infected blood.  But unless someone just happens to get bitten, I won’t have a human test subject for a while.”

“But it works on the samples?”

“Completely gone, Roy,” Jason confirmed.  He pulled the pack onto his back and walked with his best friend over to where Rose, Biz, Kyle and Dick were waiting for him.  “Like a fucking miracle.  I almost want to get myself bitten to see it work in a human body.  But from the samples, I’m not even sure the virus would work on me at all.”

“And it’s not fucking worth putting you at risk.”  Jason knew Roy was right.  Just the four people waiting for him a few paces away were enough of a reason.  But they weren’t the only reason.  Too many people counted on him for various things. And he didn’t want to die.  He didn’t want to lose what little family he had managed to patch together.  

And he didn’t want to never get the chance to shoot his shot with Dick.  Not that he had any plans on that account, but eventually.  Once his mind wasn’t over occupied with this cure.

“Ready to go, Boss?” Kyle called out, looking at him impatiently.  Jason rolled his eyes and gave a wave of his hand.

“Take care of them all while I’m gone.”  Roy gave Jason a nod before they exchanged their customary hug.

Jason had fallen in step next to Dick when Roy called out, “Don’t get too distracted out there, Jay!  You know what I mean.”  When Jason turned and threw a glare at the man, he wasn’t surprised to see Roy laughing.  So Jason simply threw a middle finger up at him and turned back around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dick!  Oh god.”  Jason went running the moment Kyle took out the last of the zombies surrounding him and Dick, who was now on his knees with a hand pressed to the junction of neck and shoulder.  He had been too far away from the other man when they had ended up surrounded thanks to a backfire on the car Dick and Kyle were attempting to get running.  Too far away to stop the zombie from sneaking up on the two men and taking a bite out of Dick’s shoulder.

Falling to his own knees, Jason looked at Dick with wide eyes.  For having been bitten, the man looked far too calm.  If anything, he just seemed annoyed.  “Dick?”  Jason rasped, reaching out to pull his hand away from the wound so he could see if it actually broke skin or not.  Crimson red told him all he needed to know.  “Fuck.  Fuck! We have to go now.  Can this drive?!”  He looked desperately up at Kyle who had his eyes locked on the wound.

“Boss?”

“Kyle!  Can the car get us back to the compound?”

“Yeah….but….”

Jason ignored whatever it was the other man was going to say and turned back to Dick, tearing a sleeve off his shirt and folding it up to press against the wound.  “You gotta keep pressure on it.  We’ll get you back home, to the lab.  The cure works.  I know it does.  We’ll get it in you in time.”  He grabbed Dick’s hand and pressed it back over the wound to hold the cloth down.

Dick looked at him with furrowed brows and tilted his head and the sigh made something clench in Jason’s chest.  That weird confusion that Dick always seemed to have whenever something normal seemed to happen.  “I’ll be fine.”  Now it was Jason’s turn to be confused.

“You were bitten Dick. It broke the skin; we have to get you back.  Come on,” he ordered, pushing to his feet and tugging Dick up with him.  “Get the others,” Jason told Kyle who looked like he was about to argue with him.  But Jason just growled out, “Now.”  And the other man gave a curt nod before running off to collect Rose and Biz.  “It takes at least a few hours for the fever to show up but we won’t be back to the compound before morning if we drive through the night.  So you just…you gotta hold on, okay?”

“I promise I’ll be fine, Jay,” Dick spoke softly, his gaze taking an amused look to it.  And damnit if Jason didn’t hate how not seriously he was taking this situation.  “I promise.”

“You will be because we’ll get you back to the lab in time.”  Dick smiled at that and sighed, leaving Jason to wonder what the hell was wrong with the man. This wasn’t a joke.  This wasn’t something they could just brush aside and yet he was acting like he wasn’t hours away from becoming one of them.

Like Jason wasn’t hours away from losing yet another person he loved.

“Boss,” Kyle’s voice broke through his internal panic.  Turning to see the man standing a few feet away with Biz and Rose right behind him, Jason raised a brow.  “Gotta talk to you real quick.  They’ll get the car packed.”  Jason huffed a breath out through his nose and followed the other man, glancing back at Dick to see Rose taking a look at the bite and speaking lowly to the man.  Once they seemed to be out of earshot, Kyle stopped and turned to face Jason.  And Jason did not like the look on his face. “We can’t take him with us.  You know we don’t have enough time even if we had enough gas to get us through the night.”

“No.”

Kyle sighed and looked over Jason’s shoulder before looking back to him.  “Jason, I know you don’t want to hear this.  I know you want to save him.  But what are we supposed to do when he turns in the middle of the drive? What then?”

“I’m not leaving him, Rayner.  I can save him.  I know I can. I have the cure.  We’re wasting time discussing this.  Let’s go.  Now.” And despite knowing Kyle had a good point, he knew he couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t leave Dick behind to become one of them.  And he couldn’t kill him before the bite took just to put him out of his misery.  Shaking his head, he turned and walked back to the car where Rose and Biz had already taken up two of the seats and Dick was leaning against the outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dragging Dick into his lab and shoving him down onto the exam table, Jason rushed around and gathered the supplies he needed to administer the injection.  He didn’t know how Dick hadn’t developed the fever yet, but he wasn’t going to waste any time.  Dumping everything on the table next to Dick, he tugged the leather jacket off Dick and pushed the sleeve of his gray shirt up.

“Jason, stop,” Dick spoke softly, ducking his head down but Jason ignored him.  “Jay.  Stop.” His voice took on a firmer tone and it was enough to cause Jason to pause and look up at him.  “I’m fine.  I don’t need this.  Don’t waste it.”

Jaw dropping, Jason stood frozen with an empty syringe in hand ready to draw Dick’s blood before he injected the cure so he could have a sample before and after.  “You are not fine!  Why are you not taking this seriously?!”

He watched Dick sigh and moved back when Dick nudged at him so he could get off the table.  Without dropping eye contact, Dick tugged the collar of his shirt away from where the bite was and revealed skin only blemished with dried blood.

But no bite.

“What?”  Jason dropped the syringe and lunged forward to examine the skin more closely.  “How is this possible?  There was a bite here!  We all saw it!”  Kyle had told him to leave Dick behind for crying out loud.  Looking back to Dick’s face, Jason shook his head.  “This is not possible.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t.  No one is immune!  No one!  We would have heard about it.”  Dick frowned and Jason watched as he tugged his shirt off, revealing far more golden skin than anyone should have ever been allowed to have.  And if the circumstances had been different, Jason would be thanking the powers that be for this display of a man.  But he was freaking out.  “Dick-what-?”  He watched Dick move around the table and reveal his back, which was covered in the most beautiful wing tattoo Jason had ever seen.  Brilliant white wings, so vibrant Jason wasn’t sure how the artist had managed to make it stand out so vividly on his golden complexion, that looked as though they had been dipped in blue dye at the tips and the color had crept up the feathers to fade into the white.  And somehow the wings were drawn in such a way that they almost seemed to flutter with Dick’s muscle movements.

Then Dick’s long fingers were brushing up the back of his neck where three symbols were drawn and he was muttering words in a language Jason had never heard but thought felt right. But before he could dive into why that might have been, he was stepping back and grabbing the table behind him as a flash of white seemed to center from Dick and a pair of wings that matched the tattoo were springing forth from the man’s back.  Jason gasped at the sight of the massive wings that spread out wide, as if stretching, and then relaxed as Dick turned to face him again.

“This is why.”

But Jason still didn’t understand.  All he knew was that Dick suddenly had wings and Jason was questioning his sanity even more. Maybe he had been the one who had been bitten.  Maybe he was losing his mind after all this time.  But he could feel his heartbeat in his ears and that was enough to tell him this was really happening.  “What are you?”  He managed to gasp.

“I am Seraph.”

“You’re an angel?” Jason questioned, mind trying to grasp what was happening here.  “Of course you are.”  He thought about all the things that had happened since he had met Dick in that kitchen all those months ago.  “So much is making sense right now.”

Dick tilted his head to the side and watched Jason as he processed.  Jason ignored the man for a moment, stepping away from the table he had been clinging to so he could pace and process.  The weird comments, acting as though he had never done common activities, or eaten certain foods.  So much of it made so much more sense.

“Jason,” Dick’s voice called to him and Jason paused his pacing, frowning at the almost melodic sound of the man’s voice now.  Looking over at Dick, Jason let his eyes trail over the expanse of the large wings behind him, from just brushing the floor with the blue feathers to standing high above his head in stark white.  

But the sound of a door banging open stopped him from saying anything, pulling both of their attentions to Rose rushing through the door.  “Oh!”  She paused, eyes wide as she looked at Dick.

“Rose,” Jason stepped forward to keep her from rushing out of there because he got the feeling that Dick didn’t necessarily want everyone to know what exactly he was.

“So you told him.  I told you you wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden much longer.”  Stopping mid stride, Jason looked from Rose to Dick and then back again.  Turning to look at Jason, Rose shrugged a shoulder and gathered up her hair, turning to show him the back of her neck.  The symbols there were similar to the ones on Dick’s and Jason felt his world bottom out again.  “I’m not Seraph, but I am Nephilim,” she explained as she dropped her hair and turned back to face him.  “And so are you.”

He heard Dick sigh behind him, but Jason felt frozen again.  He was what?  She was what?

“I hadn’t gotten to that yet,” Dick murmured and appeared next to Jason.  Allowing himself to be turned, Jason looked into the sapphire eyes he thought he had known so well.  “What Rose is so tactlessly telling you, is that your father was like me. Just as her own father is Seraph as well.  That is how I know him.  He was close to my ranks before he fell.”

Rose’s snort was telling. “He didn’t fall.  He plummeted.”

“Wait, my father?” Jason thought of the man he had known. The drunk who beat his mother until Jason was old enough to pull the man’s attention from her to himself.  He remembered waiting each night for him to come home and lay into him.  Until one night he stopped coming home.  And neither he nor his mother ever knew what happened to Willis Todd.

“Willis was not of my ranks but was tempted to fall by a very bewitching demon.  He promised him power and wealth.  But gave him neither,” Dick told Jason, placing both his hands on his shoulders.  “We are not meant to sire children with mortals because the transfer of power can have detrimental effects on the human who carries the child.  Your mother was addicted to drugs, was she not?”  Jason nodded.  “That was how she drowned out the voices.  The ones who whispered about your destiny.  Rose’s mother…”

“She died of cancer.” Glancing over at her, Jason tried to read her expression but wasn’t sure what it said.  The woman was so good at keeping her emotions to herself, he always failed to really grasp what she was thinking.  

Looking back to Dick, Jason furrowed his brows as he tried to comprehend what was being told to him. “I don’t have the symbols,” was what his brain decided to spit out instead.  Dick smiled and he could hear Rose chuckle next to him.  “What?”

“They are not something Nephilim are born with on the surface.  You have to bring them forth,” Dick explained.  “The creator gives them to their Seraph, but only a Seraph can show a Nephilim how to bring their own forth.”

“Wait. What do you mean my destiny?”  Jason demanded, mind finally grasping onto that piece of information.

He watched Dick sigh and send a look to Rose that had her rolling her eyes and leaving without a word. Or sound.  Jason made a mental note to ask her about that skill.  “It’s time we have a very serious talk, Jason. Shall we go somewhere we won’t be interrupted again?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So let me get this straight,” Jason said, pacing the length of his room as Dick sat leaning against the headboard of his bed.  “Rose’s dad is the one responsible for the virus?  The creator told all of you that one would need to fall and release the virus in order to save humanity?”

“In the broadest of terms, yes.”

“How is killing us like this, saving us?”

“Your planet was dying. It would not survive much more in way of population.  Your atmosphere had begun to crumble, and drastic measures were needed.”  Jason scowled at that.  How could Dick just be so blasé about the death of billions of people? He’s not human, a part of his mind reminded him.  But even though he only had Rose to compare to, Dick seemed more human than Rose. “Some of us were against the idea. That there had to be another way, but Slade volunteered before the discussions could go further.”

Shaking his head, Jason paced the length of the room one more time before dropping down in the chair at his desk.  “This is a lot.”  Dick nodded but remained silent and Jason was thankful.  Because even though he was glad Dick was answering his questions, he didn’t want the man to try and sway his opinion into the positive side of things just yet.  He needed to examine the situation from all angles.  He needed to see all possible outcomes to this before he came to a conclusion.  “Was it part of the creator’s plan for you to find me?”

“No.”

Jason waited for more, but when he was met with nothing but silence, he looked at Dick with a raised eyebrow. But the man, angel whatever, seemed to miss what he was silently asking him to expand upon and it just made Jason sigh.  Almost in fondness.  Almost.

“If it was not in their plan, why are you here?”

“I broke ranks because humanity has suffered more than enough, and you are the cure to that suffering.” He watched Dick sit up and look at him seriously, almost uncomfortably so.  “I have watched you for years, since before the outbreak.  I knew of you long before you were even born.  I have been tasked with protecting humanity for centuries because our creator is not the “God” so many believe in.  They are kind, loving, and they do not require worship or devotion.  But they also want you to have the will to choose what path you take.  

“You are a good species at the core, despite those who have been whispered to by the demons of the world. You would have come across the answer for the cure on your own, but it would have been a few years from now after having lost far too many and those closest.”  Jason’s mind flashed to Roy and Kory, knowing that’s exactly who Dick was referring to.  Deep in his soul, he knew it was them.  And he couldn’t help but feel so incredibly grateful that Dick had gone against his kind to prevent that.  “You have lost enough.  Everyone has lost enough.”

Taking in the words, Jason dropped down into his desk chair with a sigh.  It was a heavy weight, knowing that he had been the key to fixing this all along and that if Dick hadn’t prompted the idea that day in the mess hall then he would have taken a while longer to figure it all out.  He could have saved millions but he was supposed to have allowed countless more die before he made the sure.  Dick allowed that.  Dick disobeyed his orders because he didn’t want anymore suffering, he didn’t want Jason to endure anymore suffering.

Dick had chosen him over his own kind.  “Will you be punished?”

“Perhaps,” Dick shrugged. “But perhaps mercy shall be gifted to me because I wanted mercy for mankind.”

Jason didn’t like the idea that Dick could be harmed because he had chosen kindness over indifference. He didn’t know what it meant to be Seraph and how it impacted basic human emotions and instincts, but he knew Dick. And he knew Dick loved people. The way he laughed with Tim while they discussed various topics.  The way he worked with Kory in the gardens, singing soft songs in a language Jason now knew to be angelic.  The way he walked side by side with Roy and discussed the best way to protect those within their gates and walls.  People he was now invested in just as much as the rest of them.

“And if you aren’t granted mercy?”

There was silence and Jason watched Dick sit there, eyes narrowed and a furrowed brow marring the beauty of the angel.  “Then I suppose I will be left to walk the earth among the people of this planet and protect you from within your ranks.”  The lines smoothed out on his face and Dick gave him a smile that was brittle, but honest. “I do not feel my duty will change should the creator choose to remove me from my service to them.  I will still wish to protect those who cannot protect themselves.  It is all I have known.”

“You will always be welcome here,” Jason offered without pausing to think about it.  If he thought about it, he would never say it and regret would burn bright.  “With me.”

He tried not to fidget under the intense gaze that Dick turned on him, but it was difficult.  The depths of the sapphire eyes spoke volumes and while Jason loved to look at them, the intensity made him a bit nervous. “Despite the lies?”

“I don’t appreciate the lies, but I understand them.  Well,” he let out a chuckle, “as best as my human mind can.”

Dick’s smile was almost blinding.

“Your mind can understand much more than even you will ever know.”  The blush that colored Jason’s cheeks was no something he was proud of, but he knew it was something he couldn’t exactly control.  “You are a gift.  Don’t ever let anyone try to tell you differently, Jason Todd.”  He had gotten used to hearing Dick use those words in his regards, but now he supposed he finally understood exactly what it was he meant.  He was a gift, or his blood was.

“What happens now?” Jason asked curiously, watching Dick lean back against the headboard again.  Jason let his eyes trail over the other man, enjoying the sight of him so comfortable in Jason’s space.  It felt right.  It looked right.

But the look on Dick’s face pulled him out of those fuzzy thoughts.  “I need to go.”

“What?”

“Now that you have uncovered the cure, I need to return to my ranks.  I need to face my punishment, if there is to be one.”  

But Jason didn’t want him to leave.  Not when he still hadn’t gotten around to making any kind of move.  Could he really just let Dick walk out of his life, potentially for good, without even trying?  Did Dick even have any interest in him?  Was he just seeing things that he wanted to be there.

“I would like to stay though.  I would abandon my ranks for good, if I could convince myself it was the right thing.” Dick’s gaze turned to Jason and he found himself getting lost in the intensity of the sapphire eyes. Intensity that told Jason he wasn’t alone.  He wasn’t imagining things and he wasn’t the only one who wanted.  “I will return though.  If you’ll have me.”

Nodding, Jason tried to say something in response, but he couldn’t form the right words.  Not when those eyes were still looking at him like that. Not when his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was certain it would either burst from within or Dick would point out how loud it was.

“I will be gone before morning, but I will be back.”

And Jason hoped that Dick wasn’t just telling him that to make him feel better.  He really hoped it.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #roy harper #koriand'r #kyle rayner #rose wilson #slade wilson #tim drake #jaydick zombie au #angels/demons

[chiseler]

The Mysterious Death of a Hollywood Director

This is the tale of a very famous Hollywood mogul and a not-so-famous movie director. In May of 1933 they embarked together on a hunting trip to Canada, but only one of them came back alive. It’s an unusual tale with an uncertain ending, and to the best of my knowledge it’s never been told before.

I. The Mogul

When we consider the factors that enabled the Hollywood studio system to work as well as it did during its peak years, circa 1920 to 1950, we begin with the moguls, those larger-than-life studio chieftains who were the true stars on their respective lots. They were tough, shrewd, vital, and hard working men. Most were Jewish, first- or second-generation immigrants from Europe or Russia; physically on the small side but nonetheless formidable and – no small thing – adaptable. Despite constant evolution in popular culture, technology, and political and economic conditions in their industry and the outside world, most of the moguls who made their way to the top during the silent era held onto their power and wielded it for decades. Their names are still familiar: Zukor, Goldwyn, Mayer, Jack Warner and his brothers, and a few more. And of course, Darryl F. Zanuck. In many ways Zanuck personified the common image of the Hollywood mogul. He was an energetic, cigar-chewing, polo mallet-swinging bantam of a man, largely self-educated, with a keen aptitude for screen storytelling and a well-honed sense of what the public wanted to see. Like Charlie Chaplin he was widely assumed to be Jewish, and also like Chaplin he was not, but in every other respect Zanuck was the very embodiment of the dynamic, supremely confident Hollywood showman.

In the mid-1920s he got a job as a screenwriter at Warner Brothers, at a time when that studio was still something of a podunk operation. The young man succeeded on a grand scale, and was head of production before he was 30 years old. Ironically, the classic Warners house style, i.e. clipped, topical, and earthy, often dark and sometimes grimly funny, as in such iconic films as The Public Enemy, I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, and 42nd Street, was established not by Jack, Harry, Sam, or Albert Warner, but by Darryl Zanuck, who was the driving force behind those hits and many others from the crucial early talkie period. He played a key role in launching the gangster cycle and a new wave of sassy show biz musicals. At some point during 1932-33, however, Zanuck realized he would never rise above his status as Jack Warner’s right-hand man and run the studio, no matter how successful his projects proved to be, because of two insurmountable obstacles: 1) his name was not Warner, and 2) he was a Gentile. Therefore, in order to achieve complete autonomy, Zanuck concluded that he would have to start his own company.

In mid-April of 1933 he picked a public fight with Jack Warner over a staff salary issue, then abruptly resigned. Next, he turned his attention to setting up a company in partnership with veteran producer Joseph Schenck, who was able to raise sufficient funds to launch the new concern. And then, Zanuck invited several associates from Warner Brothers to accompany him on an extended hunting trip in Canada.

Going into the wilderness and killing wild game, a pastime many Americans still regard as a routine, unremarkable form of recreation, is also of course a conspicuous show of machismo. But in this realm, as with his legendary libido, Zanuck was in a class by himself. He had been an enthusiastic hunter most of his life, dating back to his boyhood in Nebraska. Once he became a big wheel at Warners in the late ’20s he took to organizing high-style duck-hunting expeditions: the young executive and his fellow sportsmen would travel to the appointed location in private railroad cars, staffed by uniformed servants. Heavy drinking on these occasions was not uncommon. (Inevitably, film buffs will recall The Ale & Quail Club from Preston Sturges’ classic comedy The Palm Beach Story, but DFZ and his pals were not cute old character actors, and their bullets were quite real.) Members of Zanuck’s studio entourage were given to understand that participation in these outings was de rigueur if they valued their positions, and expected desirable assignments in the future. Director Michael Curtiz, who had no fondness for hunting, remembered the trips with distaste, and recalled that on one occasion he was nearly shot by a casting director who had no idea how to properly handle a gun.

But ducks were just the beginning. In 1927 Zanuck took his wife Virginia on an African safari. In Kenya Darryl bagged a rhinoceros and posed for a photo with his wife, crouched beside the rhino’s carcass. Virginia, an erstwhile Mack Sennett bathing beauty and former leading lady to Buster Keaton, appears shaken. Her husband looks exhilarated. During this safari Zanuck also killed an elephant. He kept the animal’s four feet in his office on the Warners lot, and used them as ashtrays. If any animal lover dared to express dismay, the Hollywood sportsman would retort: “It was him or me, wasn’t it?” Zanuck made several forays to Canada with his coterie in this period, gunning for grizzly bears. Director William “Wild Bill” Wellman, who was more of an outdoorsman than Curtiz, once went along, but soon became irritated with Zanuck’s bullying. The two men got into a drunken fistfight the night before the hunting had even begun. In the course of the ensuing trip the hunting party was snowbound for three days; Zanuck sprained his ankle while trailing a grizzly; the horse carrying medical supplies vanished; and Wellman got food poisoning. “It was the damnedest trip I’ve ever seen,” the director said later, “but Zanuck loved it.”

Now that Zanuck had severed his ties with the Warner clan and was on the verge of a new professional adventure, a trip to Canada with a few trusted associates would be just the ticket. This time the destination would be a hunting ground on the banks of the Canoe River, a tributary of the Columbia River, 102 miles north of Revelstoke, British Columbia, a city about 400 miles east of Vancouver. There, in a remote scenic area far from any paved roads, telephones, or other niceties of modern life, the men could discuss Zanuck’s new production company and, presumably, their own potential roles in it. Present on the expedition were screenwriter Sam Engel, director Ray Enright, 42nd Street director Lloyd Bacon, producer (and former silent film comedian) Raymond Griffith, and director John G. Adolfi, best known at the time for his work with English actor George Arliss. Adolfi, who was around 50 years old and seemingly in good health, would not return.

II. The Director

Even dedicated film buffs may draw a blank when the name John Adolfi is mentioned. Although he directed more than eighty films over a twenty-year period beginning in 1913, most of those films are now lost. He worked in every genre, with top stars, and made a successful transition from silent cinema to talkies. He seems to have been a well-respected but self-effacing man, seldom profiled in the press. 

According to his tombstone Adolfi was born in New York City in 1881, but the exact date of his birth is one of several mysteries about his life. His father, Gustav Adolfi, was a popular stage comedian and singer who emigrated to the U.S. from Germany in 1879. Gustav performed primarily in New York and Philadelphia, and was known for such roles as Frosch the Jailer in Strauss’ Die Fledermaus. But he was a troubled man, said to be a compulsive gambler, and after his wife Jennie died (possibly of scarlet fever) it appears his life fell apart. Gustav’s singing voice gave out, and then he died suddenly in Philadelphia in October 1890, leaving John and his siblings orphaned. (An obituary in the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent reported that Gustav suffered a stroke, but family legend suggests he may have committed suicide.) After a difficult period John followed in his father’s footsteps and launched a stage career, and was soon working opposite such luminaries of the day as Ethel Barrymore and Dustin Farnum. Early in the new century the young actor wed Pennsylvania native Florence Crawford; the marriage would last until his death.

When the cinema was still in its infancy stage performers tended to regard movie work as slumming, but for whatever reason John Adolfi took the plunge. He made his debut before the cameras around 1907, probably at the Vitagraph Studio in Brooklyn. There he appeared as Tybalt in J. Stuart Blackton’s 1908 Romeo and Juliet , with Paul Panzer and Florence Lawrence in the title roles. He worked at the Edison Studio for director Edwin S. Porter, and at Biograph in a 1908 short called The Kentuckian which also featured two other stage veterans, D.W. Griffith and Mack Sennett. Most of Adolfi’s work as a screen actor was for the Éclair Studio in Fort Lee, New Jersey, the first film capital. The bulk of this company’s output was destroyed in a vault fire, but a 1912 adaptation of Robin Hood in which Adolfi appeared survives. That same year he also appeared in a famous docu-drama, as we would call it, Saved from the Titanic. This ten-minute short premiered less than a month after the Titanic disaster, and featured actress Dorothy Gibson, who actually survived the voyage, re-enacting her experience while wearing the same clothes she wore in the lifeboat. (This film, unfortunately, is among the missing.) After appearing in dozens of movies Adolfi moved behind the camera.

Much of his early work as a director was for a Los Angeles-based studio called Majestic, where he made crime dramas, Westerns, and comedies, films with titles like Texas Bill’s Last Ride and The Stolen Radium. In 1914 the company had a new supervisor: D. W. Griffith, now the top director in the business, who had just departed Biograph. Adolfi was one of the few Majestic staff directors who kept his job under the new regime. A profile in the February 1915 issue of Photoplay describes him as “a tallish, good-looking man, well-knit and vigorous, dark-haired and determined; his mouth and chin suggest that their owner expects (and intends) to have his own way unless he is convinced that the other fellow’s is better.” It was also reported that Adolfi had developed something of a following as an actor, but that he dropped out of the public eye when he became a director. Presumably, that’s what he wanted.

Adolfi left Majestic after three years, worked at Fox Films for a time as a staff director, then freelanced. During the remainder of the silent era he guided some of the screen’s legendary leading ladies: Annette Kellerman (Queen of the Sea, 1918), Marion Davies (The Burden of Proof, 1918), Mae Marsh (The Little ‘Fraid Lady, 1920), Betty Blythe (The Darling of the Rich, 1922), and Clara Bow (The Scarlet West, 1925). Not one of these films survives. A profile published in the New York World-Telegram during his stint at Fox reported that Adolfi was well-liked by his employees. He was “reticent when the conversation turned toward himself, but frank and outspoken when it concerned his work. Mr. Adolfi is not only a director who is skilled in the technique of his craft; he is also a deep student of human nature.” Asked how he felt about the cinema’s potential, he replied, with unconscious irony, “it is bound to live forever.”

III. The Talkies

In spring of 1927 Adolfi was offered a job at Warner Brothers. His debut feature for the studio What Happened to Father? (now lost) was a success, or enough of one anyway to secure him a professional foothold, and he worked primarily at WB thereafter. Thus he was fortuitously well-positioned for the talkie revolution, for although talking pictures were not invented at the studio it was Sam Warner and his brothers, more than anyone else, who sold an initially skeptical public on the new medium. After Adolfi had proven himself with three talkie features Darryl Zanuck handed him an expensive, prestige assignment, a lavish all-star revue entitled The Show of Shows which featured every Warners star from John Barrymore to Rin-Tin-Tin.

Other important assignments followed. In March of 1930 a crime melodrama called Penny Arcade opened on Broadway. It was not a success, but when Al Jolson saw it he sensed that the story had screen potential. He purchased the film rights at a bargain rate and then re-sold the property to his home studio, Warner Brothers. Adolfi was chosen to direct, but was doubtless surprised to learn that Jolson had insisted that two of the actors from the Broadway production repeat their performances before the cameras. One of the pair, Joan Blondell, had already appeared in three Vitaphone shorts to good effect, but the other, James Cagney, had never acted in a movie. Any doubts about Jolson’s instincts were quickly dispelled. Rushes of the first scenes featuring the newcomers so impressed studio brass that both were signed to five-year contracts. While Adolfi can’t be credited with discovering the duo, the film itself, re-christened Sinners’ Holiday,remains his strongest surviving claim to fame: he guided Jimmy Cagney’s screen debut.

At this point the director formed a professional relationship that would shape the rest of his career. George Arliss was a veteran stage actor who went into the movies and unexpectedly became a top box office draw. He was, frankly, an unlikely candidate for screen stardom. Already past sixty when talkies arrived, Arliss was a short, dignified man who resembled a benevolent gargoyle. But he was also a journeyman actor, a seasoned professional who knew how to command attention with a sudden sharp word or a raised eyebrow. Like Helen Hayes he was valued in Hollywood as a performer of unblemished reputation who lent the raffish film industry a touch of Class, in every sense of the word.

In 1929 Arliss appeared in a talkie version of Disraeli, a role he had played many times on stage, and became the first Englishman to take home an Academy Award for Best Actor. Thereafter he was known for stately portrayals of History’s Great Men, such as Voltaire and Alexander Hamilton, as well as fictional kings, cardinals, and other official personages. The old gentleman formed a close alliance with Darryl Zanuck, whom he admired, and was in turn granted privileges highly unusual for any actor at the time. Arliss had final approval of his scripts and authority over casting. He was also granted the right to rehearse his selected actors for two weeks before filming began. All that was left for the film’s director to do, it would seem, would be to faithfully record what his star wanted. Not many directors would accept this arrangement, but John Adolfi, who according to Photoplay “was determined to have his own way unless he is convinced that the other fellow’s is better,” clearly had no problem with it. His first film with Arliss was The Millionaire, released in May 1931; and in the two years that followed Adolfi directed eight more features, six of which were Arliss vehicles. He had found his niche in Hollywood.

One of Adolfi’s last jobs sans Arliss was a B-picture called Central Park, which reunited the director with Joan Blondell. It’s a snappy, topical, crazy quilt of a movie that packs a lot of incident into a 58-minute running time. Central Park was something of a sleeper that earned its director positive critical notices, and must have afforded him a lively holiday from those polite period pieces for the exacting Mr. Arliss.

In spring of 1933, after completing work on the Arliss vehicle Voltaire, Adolfi accompanied Darryl Zanuck and his entourage to British Columbia to hunt bears. Arliss intended to follow Zanuck to his new company, while Adolfi in turn surely expected to follow the star and continue their collaboration. Things didn’t work out that way.

IV. The Hunting Trip

It’s unclear how long the men were hunting before tragedy struck. On Sunday, May 14th, newspapers reported that film director John G. Adolfi had died the previous week – either on Wednesday or Thursday, depending on which paper one consults – at a hunting camp near the Canoe River. All accounts give the cause of death as a cerebral hemorrhage. According to the New York Herald-Tribune the news was conveyed in a long-distance phone call from Darryl Zanuck to screenwriter Lucien Hubbard in Los Angeles. Hubbard subsequently informed the press. The N.Y. Times reported that the entire hunting party (Zanuck, Engel, Enright, Bacon, and Griffith) accompanied Adolfi’s remains in a motorboat down the Columbia River to Revelstoke. From there the body was sent to Vancouver, B.C., where it was cremated. Write-ups of Adolfi’s career were brief, and tended to emphasize his work with George Arliss, though his recent success Central Park was widely noted. John’s widow Florence was mentioned in the Philadelphia City News obituary but otherwise seems to have been ignored; the couple had no children. 

V. The Aftermath

Darryl F. Zanuck went on to found Twentieth Century Pictures, a name suggested by his hunting companion Sam Engel. One of the company’s biggest hits in its first year of operation was The House of Rothschild, starring George Arliss and directed by Alfred Werker. The venerable actor returned to England not long afterwards and retired from filmmaking in 1937. In his second book of memoirs, published three years later, Arliss devotes several pages of warm praise to Zanuck, but refers only fleetingly to the man who directed seven of his films, John Adolfi, and misspells his name.

In 1935 Zanuck merged his Twentieth Century Pictures with Fox Films, and created one of the most successful companies in Hollywood history. He would go on to produce many award-winning classics, including The Grapes of Wrath, Laura, and All About Eve. Zanuck’s trusted associates at Twentieth-Century Fox in the company’s best years included Sam Engel, Raymond Griffith, and Lloyd Bacon, all survivors of the Revelstoke trip. Personal difficulties and vast changes in the film industry began to affect Zanuck’s career in the 1950s. He left the U.S. for Europe but continued to make films, and sporadically managed to exercise control over the company he founded. He died in 1979.

In 1984 a onetime screenwriter and film critic named Leonard Mosley, who had known Zanuck slightly, published a biography entitled Zanuck: The Rise and Fall of Hollywood’s Last Tycoon. Aside from his movie reviews most of Mosley’s published work concerned military matters, specifically pertaining to the Second War World. His Zanuck bio reveals a grasp of film history that is shaky at times, for the book has a number of obvious errors. Nevertheless, it was written with the cooperation of Darryl’s son Richard, his widow Virginia, and many of the mogul’s close associates, so whatever its errors in chronology or studio data the anecdotes concerning Zanuck’s personal and professional activities are unquestionably well-sourced. 

When Mosley’s narrative reaches May 1933, the point when Zanuck is on the verge of founding his new company, we’re told that he and several associates decided to go on a hunting trip to Alaska. The location is not correct, but chronologically – and in one other, unmistakable respect – there can be no doubt that this refers to the Revelstoke trip. From Mosley’s book:

“There is a mystery about this trip, and no perusal of Zanuck’s papers or those of his former associates seems to elucidate it,” he writes. “Something happened that changed his whole attitude towards hunting. All that can be gathered from the thin stories that are still gossiped around was that the hunting party went on the track of a polar bear somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness [sic], and when the vital moment came it was Zanuck who stepped out to shoot down the charging, furious animal. His bullet, it is said, found its mark all right, but it did not kill. The polar bear came on, and Zanuck stood his ground, pumping away with his rifle. Only this time it was not ‘him or me,’ but ‘him’ and someone else. The wounded and enraged bear, still alive and still charging, swerved around Zanuck and swiped with his great paw at one of the men standing behind him – and only after it had killed this other man did it fall at last into the snow, and die itself. That’s the story, and no one seems to be able to confirm it nor remember the name of the man who died. The only certain thing is that when Zanuck came back, he announced to Virginia that he had given up hunting. And he never went out and shot a wild animal again, not even a jackrabbit for his supper.”

VI. The Coda

Was John Adolfi killed by a bear? It certainly seems possible, but if so, why didn’t the men in the hunting party simply report the truth? Even if their boss was indirectly responsible, having fired the shots that caused the bear to charge, he couldn’t be blamed for the actions of a dying animal. But it’s also possible the event unfolded like a recent tragedy on the Montana-Idaho border. There, in September 2011, two men named Ty Bell and Steve Stevenson were on a hunting trip. Bell shot what he believed was a black bear. When the bear, a grizzly, attacked Stevenson, Bell fired again – and killed both the bear and his friend.

That seems to be the more likely scenario. If Zanuck fired at the wounded bear, in an attempt to save Adolfi, and killed both bear and man instead, it would perhaps explain a hastily contrived false story. It would most definitely explain the prompt cremation of Adolfi’s body in Vancouver. Back in Hollywood Joe Schenck was busy raising money, and lots of it, to launch Zanuck’s new company. Any unpleasant information about the new company’s chief – certainly anything suggestive of manslaughter – could jeopardize the deal. A man hit with a cerebral hemorrhage in the prime of life is a tragedy of natural causes, but a man sprayed with bullets in a shooting, accidental or not, is something else again. That goes double if alcohol was involved, as it reportedly was on Zanuck’s earlier hunting trips.

Of course, it’s also possible that Adolfi did indeed suffer a cerebral hemorrhage. Like his father.

John G. Adolfi is a Hollywood ghost. Most of his works are lost, and his name is forgotten. (Even George Arliss couldn’t be bothered to spell it correctly.) Every now and then TCM will program one of the Arliss vehicles, or Sinners’ Holiday. Not long ago they showed Adolfi’s fascinating B-picture Central Park, that slam-bang souvenir of the early Depression years in which several plot strands are deftly inter-twined. One of the subplots involves a mentally ill man, a former zoo-keeper who escapes from an asylum and returns to the place where he used to work, the Central Park Zoo. He has a score to settle with an old nemesis, an ex-colleague who tends the big cats. As the story approaches its climax, the escaped lunatic deliberately drags his enemy into the cage of a dangerous lion and leaves him there. In the subsequent, harrowing scene, difficult to watch, the lion attacks and practically kills the poor bastard.

by William Charles Morrow

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My sources for this article, in addition to the Mosley biography cited in the text, include Stephen M. Silverman’s The Fox That Got Away: The Last Days of the Zanuck Dynasty at Twentieth-Century Fox (1988), and Marlys J. Harris’s The Zanucks of Hollywood: The Dark Legacy of an American Dynasty (1989). For material on John Adolfi I made extensive use of the files of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. Special thanks to James Bigwood for his prodigious research on the Adolfi family genealogy, and to Mary Maler, John Adolfi’s great-niece, for information she provided on her family.