#they took this character who was not given a fair shot and cemented him as one of the most important characters in shows history

[fnaffersblog]

Well, see now I'm just

fucking upset about Solar Flare too.

This

ROBOT

because that's what he was, an entity guided solely by his programming, to protect Killcode, who had begun to experience sentience. He's not an animatronic, he's a body with programming who's controlled by his directives that has only just begun to understand life. and maybe, MAYBE he understood, maybe it was more than just code at the end. The way he talked, he had a deeper understanding beyond what his programming told him, you know? But he was still driven by his code.

Solar Flare who, from his introduction on the 6th of February to his first 'death' on the 8th of March, was around for a little over a month.

Solar Flare, who was presumed dead by most, all the way up until it was revealed he had sunk his claws into living because of his one purpose on June 17th, THREE MONTHS AFTER HIS 'DEATH'.

Solar Flare whose introduction episode was prefaced with a message addressing how people didn't like all the new characters. THAT was his introduction, THAT was what he was paired with.

Solar Flare who appeared in only THREE episodes before he was killed the first time, and SIX OVER THE COURSE OF THE ENTIRE SHOW. Who had the same amount of fucking screen time as fucking GARBAGE GUY.

A character who is, arguably, one of the least important on the show. Created as a tool for someone else, and treated like an enemy by most everyone

IS THE ONE WHO ULTIMATELY HAD THE LARGEST PART TO PLAY IN KILLING WHAT IS ARGUABLY ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT CHARACTERS ON THE SHOW.

And in doing so, he sacrificed himself. He knew he would die.

And he FUCKING

accepted it. Gently. No fighting. A character who had only just begun to experience life and self, graciously accepted it was his time and attempted to get Eclipse to accept it as well. He tried to give Eclipse a sort of peace in the end, as well.

I just...

Fuck.

'Do you think it hurts?'

'We cannot feel pain.'

'Goodbye Eclipse. It is time for us to go.'

#AND NO ONE WILL KNOW #THEY DIDN'T KNOW #DO THEY EVEN REMEMBER SOLAR FLARE? #tsams spoilers #sams spoilers #tsams #sams #fafferchat #normally I'd make jokes down here #but I'm getting legitimately torn up about Solar Flare and Eclipse rn #tsams solar flare #and i know i've written all this before and i know it's been written elsewhere before but #they took this character who was not given a fair shot and cemented him as one of the most important characters in shows history #and im going to cry about it for awhile i think #tw cursing

[legendofzoodles]

The Chain and Time Management

From this ask

Time has been a productive functioning adult for a while now, he knows the rules of life, and you just need to get it done. Luckily he has an amazing wife who can divide the tasks with him: cleaning the stables, changing Epona's horse shoes, changing the sugar water etc. However, Time has a habit of taking more than his fair share of tasks and will often blitz through them without taking breaks.

Warriors is the multitasker. He's a busy guy with a lot of stuff to get done in any given day: put together next month's training schedule, finish his armour, finish that report on monster sightings east of Hyrule field etc. And he time manages by condensing as many compatable tasks as he can in the smallest possible time frame. Leading to ingenious plans like polishing his armour in the bath with one hand and writing a draft report with the other.  

Twilight is sensible, he takes it a step at a time. No need to plan when you've got the next task already cemented in your mind. No fuss, since he's happy to drop whatever he's doing to help someone. No stress, he paces himself, takes breaks when he needs to and just gets on with it.

Sky is pretty lazy. He doesn't manage his time at all. And most of the time he never has to; the only way anyone's gonna get him to do anything that isn't tending to his dear loftwing or spending time with Sun, it's by physically dragging him out of bed and dictating his schedule like a helicopter parent.

Legend prioritises. He'll always choose the most important ones first and work from there. Having gone on so many adventures alone he’s used to being kept busy, preferably juggling a few small little responsibilities while chipping away at a much larger endeavour. Through experience he knows how to keep a good pace, and enjoys completing tasks. 

Wild, sets time limits and when he doesn't get everything done he'll throw in the towel and get it done tomorrow. Maybe. He has a habit of procrastinating when he knows he’ll get away with it. 

Flora: Why is there a pile of weaponry in your room?

Wild: Oh, I was polishing them, but I ran out of time after the first sword.

Flora: How long did you give yourself?

Wild: About an hour.

Flora: It took you an hour to polish one sword??

Four is the planner, and a very meticulous one- even having scheduled times for organizing schedules. It helps him feel in control. He doesn’t have to worry about doing too much or doing too little when he’s laid it all out before. Plus, as a blacksmith who has many a meticulous order to work through, with new drop-ins on the daily, he needs that structure to stop him from feeling overwhelmed. 

Hyrule’s never really been one for time management. If something needs doing he’ll do it, from menial chores at home to a royal errand list, but he’s never been in a situation where he’s had too much to worry about. So, during the infrequent periods things do get stressful, he’ll allocate some time for himself. Break up an assigned mission for a quiet day in the woods or in his cozy cave-house experimenting with new potion recipes. 

Wind collaborates, if stuff needs to get done, he’s getting it done with the crew. Not only is it easier that way, but it makes it more enjoyable. He used to make games out of house chores with Aryll, like pretending he was a water painter when mopping or pretending the dishes could sing, all while keeping them productive. Tetra calls the shots on her ship, but often Wind’s the one to delegate tasks and will usually take part because it’s fun. 

~~~

Thanks for reading!

And I love the prompt anon!

Masterlist

9th place in the LU character design ranking

Character analysis posts:

Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors

Parkour team - LU drabble

How each member of the chain laughs - LU headcanon

#zoodles ask #lu #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu chain #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wild #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu four #lu legend #lu sky #lu incorrect quotes #linked universe incorrect quotes #lu flora #lu drabble #lu fic ideas #lu fic idea #lu headcanons #lu headcanon #linked universe headcanons

[nikialexx]

very very tired of trying to engage with TLOU fandom only to encounter more Hot Takes about how certain episodes (and we all know which episodes) are 'boring' or 'unnecessary' or, perhaps most frustrating all, 'woke propaganda' so here is my take on it all.

first off, i really do think that all of these people need to take a crash course in the difference between a piece of media being 'woke' and something which simply showcases the existence of people who are not white, male, and/or straight.

but with specific reference to TLOU i think it's particularly exhausting because all of the criticism I've seen of episode 3 and episode 7 are that it doesn't advance the plot which- fair point, it doesn't, but this completely ignores the fact that storytelling is not solely devised from good plot execution and that it also heavily relies on things such as theme, characterization (this includes backstory), allegory, symbolism- all of which are pivotal aspects of these episodes.

and i think that if you lack the intellectual capacity and the media literacy to recognize these things and understand their importance- well first of all you shouldn't be watching the show at all, because it clearly wasn't made for you. but you especially shouldn't be criticizing it.

ep.3 for example, seems to me that is serves the same functional purpose as the direction that the game took Bill's storyline. Bill in the game was a cautionary tale, and in the show he was an aspirational one. But the impact he had on Joel was the exact same: he served as a reminder of the difference between surviving and living, a reminder that the most important thing you can do is to keep your loved ones close, a reminder that the world isn't all bad, even if it seems like it is, and that shutting yourself off from it in an attempt to avoid pain will only prevent you from embracing the good things. Bill's relationship to Frank is, functionally, the same as Joel's relationship to Tess and Ellie. Joel shut himself off from Tess and in the process likely missed out on what could have been a very good thing, and Bill and Frank and the example that they set is what gave Joel the push he needed not to make that same mistake with Ellie.

The changes that the show made to Bill's storyline is exactly what a good adaptation should do.

which brings me to my second issue with all the criticism: it also ignores the fact that this is not the video game, it as an adaptation. the purpose of an adaptation is to explore aspects of the story (note that this is not the same thing as plot!!) that the original source couldn't/didn't. It is meant to delve deeper into the story (note!! that this is not!! the same thing as plot!!) than the original source did. it's meant to be an alternative, updated take. it isn't meant to a shot-for-shot reenactment. if you want the exact same story that the game gave you with nothing added in and nothing taken out- that's great! good for you! go play the game and leave the rest of us alone. because why are you really here if you can't understand that film is a different media format entirely and that yes, it should play to its specific strengths.

furthermore:

ep.7 was not a 'filler' episode. It was an episode that explored Ellie's backstory (a particularly important backstory btw, given Joel's remarks in ep.6 that Ellie doesn't know what loss is. this episode showed us that yes, she very much does). And by doing that, it cemented her reasons for being so determined to find the fireflies and let herself be experimented on in hope of getting a cure (this, children, is what we refer to as a character motivation. It's a pretty important thing). It gave us insight into what Ellie's life was like before Joel- because, you know, she is her own goddamm character that can and should be able to exist without him.

and it's particular insidious to me that so many people are blacklisting this episode because 'it sidelined Joel' when, and I cannot stress this enough, Ellie is also a main character. She is arguably the main character. This isn't The Joel Show. If you can't stand to watch a 50 minute episode that focuses on Ellie, then why are you even here? Ellie's story is important to her, her loss of Riley is important to her, just as Joel's loss of Sarah is important to him, and both of those things deserved the screentime that they got. Ellie is not 'filler', you misogynistic dumbasses.

And from what I've seen, one of the most notable aspect of TLOU game has always been its focus on story (do I need to say it again? yes i do. this is NOT the same thing as plot), characterization, and the intimate relationships between the characters. So why did anyone start watching the show if all they wanted to see were guns and zombies. Go somewhere else. This clearly isn't for you.

#the last of us #tlou #i'm tired. can you tell i'm tired #the hatred of Ellie from the dudebros is so sickening #why are you SO incensed about a 14 year old girl's sexuality that you'd make a 20 minute video ranting about it #you are pushing 40. go away #“it's boring” to YOU #some of us aren't brain dead #and DON'T think i've forgotten how the same people were saying Bella wasn't attractive enough to play Ellie #she is a whole child!! you are a grown man!! #go AWAY!!!! #ok i'm done

[bigskydreaming]

I am once more begging people, BEGGING, to at least READ Batman #416 if you’re going to cite every moment of Dick meeting Jason and then blowing up at Bruce, except in a totally ‘that’s not at all how it happened’ kinda way.

If I have to read ONE MORE sizzling hot take about how Dick blew up at Bruce and stormed off at the end of that encounter, when THIS is how it ACTUALLY ended....

Ah yes, the famous Dick Grayson temper, better described as ‘someone else loses their shit at Dick and fandom twists it into the exact opposite so he’s actually the bad guy all along.’

Was Dick heated before that point? Yup. Did he have reason to be? Also yup. Did Bruce, however, have reason to be heated that Dick had the gall to be coming back to his childhood home to confront him about the fact that after eighteen months of not speaking, when Bruce is the one who CHOSE to not even say goodbye to Dick or make any effort to still make a place for Dick in his life after firing him, with the only possible indication in all that time through which Dick was expected to come up with even an INKLING that Bruce missed him was discovering from reading the paper that Bruce had given his old mantle to a new, even younger partner? Its gonna be a big fat NOPE from me, guys.

There’s an exchange between them a few pages before this that always resonated with me....

Bruce: The truth is, I taught you everything I could. It was time for you to step out on your own.

Dick: So you figured the best thing for you to do was drive me out of your life, right? That’s exactly what you do to anyone who gets too close. Always hurt them before they have a chance to hurt you. It didn’t matter to you that I didn’t have any life other than the one we shared.

Like, I can not express any more clearly why it drives me so B-A-N-A-N-A-S to see people spin this so that it was Bruce that was somehow the victim of his son’s tempestuous, nomadic ways. Like he was somehow left behind, that Dick outgrew him or moved on, and everything Dick felt about Robin after the fact was him throwing spoiled temper tantrums that someone dared pick up something he no longer wanted. Umm. No times infinity and beyond.

Bruce was the one with all the power. Bruce was the one making all the choices. All Dick had, at most, was the choice to either stay somewhere Bruce seemed intent on driving him away from, or go somewhere else. This issue clearly expressed that like. Bruce wasn’t open to talking. Not when he fired Dick as Robin, there was no negotiating that, and even throughout this whole encounter here, where Dick comes here and says “I think you owe me some explanations” because based on everything Bruce was doing and how radically opposed those actions are to the last interactions he and Bruce had, which had a HUGE impact on Dick’s life, yes, he WAS owed explanations here, make no mistake....even here, Bruce spends the whole encounter acting like he’s being unfairly interrogated, like its trying his patience to even have to deal with Dick being there at all....

Phones work two ways, Bruce. There’s two people in this dynamic. If you haven’t heard from Dick in eighteen months, its equally true that he hasn’t heard from you in eighteen months. And if you missed him so damn much, you know what was always a perfectly valid way to express that, which DIDN’T involve anyone else? Picking up the damn phone and calling Dick and telling him that.

Bruce acts like that was never even an option, like HE was the one stuck with limited choices based on Dick’s behavior throughout all this time, and that’s just flat out, unconditionally, one hundred percent, NOT TRUE. Bruce was the one in charge. The one calling the shots. The one with the resources, the power, the authority. Dick was ALWAYS the one who had more to lose, of the two of them.

And Bruce knew all this when he took Dick in. He knew all this when he took Robin away from Dick while the latter was still a teenager, still living at home. And he was the one who failed to even so much as OFFER Dick an alternative take on how he could still be there, still be in Bruce’s life, part of his family, still share in being part of his life, the life the two of them had shared, now that Bruce had made the choice that Dick no longer had the option of living out his part of that life in the manner they’d BOTH built up for him originally.

And yet for so many years, fandom has added insult to injury by acting like the cherry on top here, Bruce giving away the very mantle he took from Dick, like this was somehow completely reasonable because in comparison, Dick is the one being unreasonable. People completely gloss over that little act of Bruce’s to focus instead on how Dick reacted, instead of giving that betrayal of trust its own fair due and focus, and the problem is....they don’t even actually focus on how Dick actually acted! Again, notice it was Dick who approached Bruce, and Bruce who told Dick to leave. It was Dick who had actual cause to be angry, but Bruce who blew up and broke shit because Dick dared demand answers. 

And this is the way Dick leaves things with Jason, btw. I know people know this part by now, mostly at least, about the phone number and such, but how many people have actually SEEN how that played out rather than just heard it summarized in a dry recitation of events that underplays just how that interaction went?

Like, that wasn’t just Dick acting like this was being FORCED upon him and bleeding reluctance at every turn. He went above and fucking beyond to make Jason feel welcomed and secure in his position as Robin. But that’s not how the narrative goes in fandom, is it? Even when acknowledging this part, people act like Dick was at most doing the bare minimum, instead of acknowledging that Dick didn’t owe anyone this at all. No, it wasn’t Jason’s fault he became Robin, but NONE of this was Dick’s fault, Dick’s choice, or Dick’s RESPONSIBILITY. He wasn’t living at home, in Bruce’s life, and he wasn’t adopted yet let alone even still Bruce’s ward at this point. He’d aged out at eighteen. Dick had NO actual ties to Bruce and by extension Jason at this particular moment in time, and thus no ACTUAL obligations to either of them, no matter how much fandom harps on him having failed Jason as a brother back during this time when more accurately, Bruce was actively failing Dick as a father - as in not even being one, but Dick’s responsibilities towards a family he didn’t have at the moment are supposed to be still intact? NOPE. Don’t think so.

But Dick, INSTEAD, puts Jason FIRST, puts him OVER his obviously hurt and bitter feelings to focus on what’s best for Jason here, and gives him literally everything he CAN to do right by Jason here. He gives Jason his own old costume and clear approval, cementing Jason’s place as Robin in a way not even Bruce could when giving it to Jason, because it was never Bruce’s to actually pass on. Jason even wonders earlier in the issue if Dick might want his old role back, and Dick puts that fear to rest, without any hesitation or doubt.

In addition, Dick offers up support and solidarity he doesn’t owe Jason, doesn’t owe anyone, because its HIS time, HIS support, its not something someone can take for granted and yet too many people do....especially considering that in the hyper-fixation on how much support and time Dick supposedly DIDN’T offer or grant Jason, most people pay next to no attention to the fact that it wasn’t like Dick was being given time or support by Bruce, ie Dick is going out of his way to offer stuff he’s not even getting himself, because he RECOGNIZES from that what its like not to have it. Basically what I mean is all that talk about Dick being a hypocrite for doing to others what he complains about Bruce not doing for him? Patently untrue, as we see here, because this is Dick actively acting upon what he’s missing out on by making sure that others don’t miss out on it because of Bruce’s failings or emotional repression.

And look at the end result.....Jason’s enjoying his teamup with Dick, these aren’t two people who look pained at being forced into proximity or acting like the other is a burden to be around or thinking the other doesn’t really want to be here. They were comfortable from practically the word go, because Dick knows how to make people uncomfortable but he also knows how to make people comfortable, and he made the CHOICE, the INTENT to make sure he was someone Jason felt WANTED to be there with him, the complete opposite of someone who is taking out their bitterness or resentment on their replacement or at least not trying to hide it very well.

So my question is.....what the hell else is it people wanted Dick to do? When they cite this issue specifically, at least, when they talk about the time Dick went to Gotham to confront Bruce about Robin, when they talk about the phone number or the costume or the teamup or the things that so often get mentioned in passing like they’re insignificant or the bare minimum or mere formalities that do nothing to take away from all the supposed OTHER asshole behavior that Dick allegedly heaped on Jason despite never actually happening anywhere, even a little bit, and thus that some people claim is just an extrapolation of how Dick PROBABLY acted off the page, given his clear resentment and jealousy....umm. Huh? Based off THIS? Seriously, I mean it. What ELSE was Dick supposed to have done, to counter that take, what else could he POSSIBLY have done to do right by Jason here, that he didn’t actually already do? What exactly did people want from this character, in order to not hold this eternal grudge they have against him for what a big old jerk he was to Jason, who did nothing to deserve it - with that part being true at least, and literally WHY Dick made the point to recognize that and not take out his feelings on Jason?

Like, this will never not be an axe for me to grind because like. The SPIN fandom always gives all this, when look at the last page of this issue......Bruce is watching from a distance, and even he’s like thanks Dick, and that honestly bugs me so much. Because in the end, the only one of these three characters who DIDN’T get what he wanted here, was Dick. Jason got the validation and security as Robin he was looking for, the approval of his predecessor, and words of advice and an offer to listen and be there should he ever want to talk. Bruce got Dick’s validation of the actions Bruce took that he had no right to take when giving his old mantle to Jason, but that Dick ratified all the same, even if it was for Jason’s sake and not Bruce’s. Bruce still got the closure on that particular mistake of his, with the evidence that Dick was willing to see past it for Jason’s sake rather than drag it out....like. Dick is the only one who didn’t get what he was looking for there, he didn’t even get an apology from Bruce for overstepping when he passed on Dick’s mantle, an acknowledgment that this was WRONG, the most Dick got was Bruce admitting for a single panel that he missed him.....before telling Dick to leave and get out and effectively taking back anything Dick could have possibly taken away from that admittance. Because what the fuck does it matter if someone misses you if even though they finally have you right there in front of them, they still tell you to leave again anyway?

In conclusion, I hate this issue, lol, because everybody seems to know what’s in it and yet practically nobody ever seems interested in referencing what’s ACTUALLY in it. Instead just forever playing telephone with the most bad faith interpretation of Dick’s actions possible.

[pynkhues]

I'm really excited to see how the sibling union holds up in season 4, especially in Connor's case. there are a lot of reasons that their alliance will be shaky, and I think narratively and character wise there are even more reasons why Connor would be shaky, but I ALSO think it's very telling that a) roman bothered to include him in the coup attempt even though he probably wasn't involved in the divorce agreement and so wouldn't have much say in it and b) we got so much new context for Connors relationships with the rest of the family this season. however the chips fall, I hope there's at least a little moment where Connor realizes that his relationship with his siblings seems off because they consider him a father figure instead, and even though theyre assholes they still value the role he played in their lives. like, it's very telling that Romans only good experiences with a father figure were with Connor, and i also think there's no way Connor knows that because the golden trio are all incapable of expressing genuine emotion without insurance that they can't get hurt by it later (which is notably a problem Connor doesn't seem to struggle with. this again may cause some very fun dynamics in season 4, since he wasn't there for Kendalls confession and probably isn't aware this is even a component at play. in fact this may even be a huge point of conflict, because that is kind of an insane and unreasonable thing to demand of someone even if it makes sense within the golden trio's emotional logic). this is a bit of a mess but my major point here is season 4 is going to be heart wrenching

Gosh, I totally agree, anon.

I feel like the sibling alliance is going to be a mess, but I'm sort of hopeful that it actually tentatively holds, especially given the golden trio were forced to see their father together in such a stark light. Logan's always beaten them best through divide and conquer, and it's why I think this rough ending still sort of felt like he lost too. He wanted to split the three of them up, but he couldn't, and I don't imagine he's pleased about that.

Adding to that, the three of them now have burnt their bridges to pretty much everyone except each other - - I'm not sure they have much other recourse except to try and make it work together, especially now that Kendall's moment of honesty seems to have cemented something between them.

In that sense, Connor really is the wildcard heading into s4.

To me, each season so far has really been structured around one sibling potentially being the kid who takes over, but more than that, it's focused particularly on one sibling's relationship with their father – s1 was Kendall, s2 was Shiv and s3 was Roman, which really does leave Connor's relationship with Logan as the logical focus for s4.

In a lot of ways, it feels like that was really held to in 3.09 where, while Connor's concern for Kendall was really vocalised and emphatic, he also took his brother's intervention as a chance to tell him to stop trying to kill their dad (and to be fair, Kendall sort of did, just Shiv and Roman had a go instead, haha).

I don't think that s4 is going to be about Connor having his shot at CEO, but I do think it's likely to look at Connor's relationship with Logan in a pretty acute way, especially now that we have the set-up of Connor being the only sibling outside of the coup, even if Roman looped him in; the only sibling seemingly unbothered at the prospect of Logan trying to have a baby, plus the political storyline which Logan seems increasingly less adverse to (gosh, a part of him seemed to even enjoy the thought of becoming like Joseph Kennedy in 4.06).

Add to that, like you said, Connor missing Kendall's confession, plus the fact that the podcast is coming out about Connor's mother, and he and Willa look like they're going to get married - - I think Connor could really be the character who's the knot in the season overall.

I do hope he stays close to his siblings too, but I really am excited to see where it goes as well. Connor's always been sort of backgrounded, and the potential for painful, funny, emotionally rich tension just feels so ripe. I'm so, so excited to see what opens up with it.

#i am ready for pain tbh #connor does seem to have a bit more distance from logan generally though which i could see playing out in interesting ways too #but with logan backing mencken and GoJo too.. #combined with connor genuinely seeming to love his baby sibs especially when they need him #which they very well could after the finale #idk! #i would lowkey love a season with the roy sibs just trying to make connor president over mencken to piss off their dad lmao #but that also feels..............very bleak politically speaking haha #connor roy #succession 3.09 #roy siblings #welcome to my ama #succession meta

[randomingoftherandomness]

The Bone of Impurity

So with the upcoming Winner is King, my brain got whirling with the thought of The Bone of Impurity which is arguably one of the main plot points of the novel and I thought I would do a bit of a meta for it? It is definitely something I hope they do not dilute for the Live Action adaptation but even if they did touch upon 1% of the shit that goes on into making a Bone of Impurity, it's still pretty Dead Dove Don't Eat. So I thought I would preempt it by actually putting down a primer on the Bone of Impurity.

I did not read the novel in Chinese and read it in English, so some of the more subtle themes present in the original work will have been missed by me. If anyone who has read the Sha Po Lang novel as it was written by Priest, do let me know if I have made any mistakes on any of the below ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧

Fair warning, there's some pretty Nightmare Fuel inducing shit, so I'll be keeping things under a read more in case people get squicked by this lol I'm also basing my references around the translation that Northwest Flower did because that is the one I read.

Just a basic background on The Bone of Impurity:

It is essentially a curse unique to the Northern Man people who utilise it in moments where someone's country is broken and nothing remains but revenge. To attain that, they make a sacrifice to the 'evil' gods of their beliefs

It is a cruel and horrible affliction to put on the person, but the return for it is that the person who becomes a Bone of Impurity gains the strength, intelligence, foresight and abilities of two persons

Whoever becomes a Bone of Impurity is someone who is single-mindedly ruthless and bloodthirsty when pressed towards a goal; they will attain power and their near supernatural abilities will make them unstoppable in achieving their goals

They will also gain a sort of existence that is neither alive nor dead. Sort of a zombie-like living. They also don't live very long

For all this super abilities, the flip side for anyone living with the Bone of Impurity is that they will be constantly highly suspicious and paranoid of everyone and everything; they will be slowly driven mad by the visceral hallucinations that will leave them incapable of knowing what is real and what is fake (Volume 1, Chapter 26; Volume 3, Chapter 70)

A Bone of Impurity attack comes about when the afflicted experiences heightened emotions or moments of extreme stress (I seriously cannot list out all the times it popped up in the novel because we would be here quite long lol)

It manifests in dual pupils being observed in their blood-hued eyes, hypersensitivity of the senses, their body burning up, almost sleep paralysis levels of body-lockedness and they will experience extreme pain with the bouts of attacks lasting hours at a time (Volume 2, Chapter 50 & 51)

The method of 'refining' a Bone of Impurity is...

Basically taking two babies and putting them in a dark place with no air, no water, no food. One of the babies will survive while the other one dies (Volume 3, Chapter 70)

I'm not quite certain if they have to be blood related or not, but the examples given in the book all indicate that if they have a strong connection to each other, then it would be better and that the Bone of Impurity would better take

The dead baby is then... 'refined' with the arcane arts and medicines of the Northern Man Goddesses and fed to the surviving baby (re:baby cannibalism)

I told you it wasn't pretty...

In the novel, Chang Geng is the Bone of Impurity made by Hu Ge Er, his aunt, in order to bring about chaos and tumult to Great Liang that had subjugated her people. Chang Geng is repeatedly described to have almost scary levels of intelligence and foresight, to the point where some of the characters actually wonder if he is omnipotent.

Chang Geng is also revealed to have obtained characteristics of his cousin

One of the ways Shen Yi and Gu Yun identified Chang Geng as the missing Fourth Prince is the congenital defect of a toe - which, lol, the worlds where DNA testing did not exist - and Chang Geng insists that his toe deformity was caused Hu Ge Er (Chapter 8)

It is later revealed that this was one of the further side-effects of the Bone of Impurity where the afflicted would reflect characteristics of the 'devoured' counterpart (Extra: Souls returned home)

Now on to the meta bit:

Chang Geng has a pretty much single focus sexuality on Gu Yun; even when he wasn't clear on what the nature of those feelings were, he was already dedicated to the man, already thinking up ways of how he can support him in the future

Even when he was heartbroken by the reveal of who 'Shen Shiliu' was and the lies and the subterfuge that had flowed between them, just with an apology and assurance from Gu Yun, Chang Geng was already ready to forgive him

Now, we know that Hu Ge Er said with her dying breath that the Bone of Impurity will cause him to lose his mind and will cause the death of everyone he will ever love. I think she said this because she has already detected the level of dedication he has built for Gu Yun and also because she is a horrible person and wanted one last pot shot at tormenting Chang Geng

Through all his Bone of Impurity attacks, Chang Geng has one consistent thing that he fears the most above everything else - Gu Yun abandoning him, rejecting him, leaving him in any way

My thought is simple; what makes him different from the other Bone of Impurities that were explicitly said and described in the novel? One person. Gu Yun.

Had Gu Yun not saved him from the wolves outside of Yanhui Town, he would have definitely died right there and then being killed by the Northern Man wolves. I truly believed that at that time, Chang Geng really ran out there to die. With just the scant descriptions of what Hu Ge Er did to him throughout his childhood, even the brief glimpses into her horrible abuse, is enough to cement that he was very likely unable to handle everything anymore.

If Gu Yun had not shown up and took on the mantle of Chang Geng's Yi Fu - as clumsy and as emotionally stunted as he was to deal with a dependent - was kind to him without any sort of condition attached to it, if Gu Yun had not taken that spot in Chang Geng's heart and mind as a moral compass, guiding his path to tempering the more extreme effects of the Bone of Impurity, I have no doubt that Chang Geng would have destroyed Great Liang before he even turned 21.

Because of Gu Yun, Chang Geng plotted the way to peace for Great Liang; divesting of weak emperors and ushering in a new age of stability and peace, building a foundation for his nephew to take over and build upon. All because he knew that Gu Yun loved his country, loved the people, has broken his back time and time again to toil for peace and defend its borders.

In the novel, they even explicitly say that when Gu Yun is out doing routine inspections of the borders and stuff, Chang Geng essentially shuts down; starts living like a monk and a life without colour until Gu Yun comes back to him (I don't know which extra or chapter this is in because this post has been waaaayyyy too long at this point)

With Gu Yun, especially when he learns that his supposedly unrequited and unfilial feelings were not as unrequited as they seem, he found a path to a future where he can strive to live without pain and without worry. With Gu Yun, he could focus all of the ruthlessness and all the bloodlust and the brilliance and the horrors and make it into a fulfilment of Gu Yun's dream; to be able to walk away from the battlefield and live out the rest of his days in peace and leisure.

Think about it, especially if you have read the novel, how scary can Chang Geng get when Gu Yun isn't around to temper him?

Basically, yes, I am definitely saying that Chang Geng and Gu Yun doing the horizontal dance with no pants resulted in peace for the country lol

[Bit of Trivia] Chang Geng's name is also significant because, according to Hu Ge Er, it is the name of the 'Bone of Impurity' in the Chinese dialect (Chapter 6)

#sha po lang #feng huo liu jin #烽火流金 #杀破狼 #chang geng #spl meta #sha po lang meta #winner is king #gu yun #changgu #chang geng x gu yun

[carewyncromwell]

At last, my friends, we’ve come to the end! This is the final part of my POTC AU. *cue the confetti and noisemakers*

I’ll be creating a masterpost for this AU in the next few days, so that it’s easier to start at the beginning, but before we jump right in, I want to thank those people who contributed to the POTC AU during its development by creating content for their own characters -- @hphm-brooke, @danceworshipper, @rosievixen, @smarti-at-smogwarts, @theguythatdraws, @dat-silvers-girl, @that-ravenpuff-witch, @hogwarts9, @drinkyoursoupbitch and @samshogwarts -- as well as my dear friend @cursebreakerfarrier, whose character Jules I roped into this thing at the very start before having any concept of how big this thing could get and I feel so blessed to have been able to write for. I also just want to thank you all for the overwhelming flood of support you guys have sent my way for this project -- I truly have loved every minute of it, and I hope to finish some of my other unfinished projects as well as create other fresh new material for you guys in the near future! I love you all! xoxo

One last time -- previous part is here, and full tag is here!

x~x~x~x

Even with McNully’s brilliant ploy giving her an extra smattering of glory to cement her position, Carewyn had still initially feared the crew who had been on the HMS Lion would take her to task for her insubordination of Cutler Beckett. It turned out she really needn’t have worried.

“Lord Beckett may have been chosen by the King to take charge of the Empire’s anti-piracy campaign,” said Carewyn’s old lieutenant when she questioned him about it, “but he selected you as the Admiral of the fleet. Therefore it’s only right that we, as your subordinates, follow your orders -- whether they contradict Lord Beckett’s or not.”

“Even though I’m the sort of person to threaten the King’s chosen representative with my pistol?” asked Carewyn, her eyebrows raised.

“Even if you did far worse than that,” said the lieutenant, his eyes blazing with resolve. “Your orders saved a lot of our men’s lives out there, when Beckett’s no doubt would’ve led to their deaths. It’s only right that we protect you -- that the Navy protects you -- just like you protected us.”

His boyish face broke out into a broad smile. “We won’t betray you, Admiral. None of us will.”

With the Navy’s defeat at the hands of the Pirate Lords, Carewyn charted a course straight for London. The fleet had just started the month-long journey when about three days in, the Flying Dutchman emerged out of a gigantic wave and pulled up right alongside the HMS Royal. The Navy’s sailors immediately prepared for a fight, as they knew that the Dutchman was no longer under their control, but Carewyn held the order to attack, instead allowing the ship to approach.

The sailors on board the Dutchman were unrecognizable to Carewyn’s eyes -- gone were the barnacle-encrusted, shark-or-fish-headed crew members she’d seen before: all she saw were a band of very human, though admittedly very dirty and ragged-looking pirates. Sticking out amongst them was a handsome, clean-shaved man with a stylishly-embroidered coat, a brown ponytail, and discerning brown eyes, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a shorter, stockier man with very long curly dark hair tied back in a ponytail that swished around behind him like an oddly sentient tail. It was these two men that came aboard, when Carewyn invoked the right to parley with the Dutchman’s Captain in her office.

Percy shut the door to Carewyn’s cabin’s door behind the two men, taking off his tricorn hat just as the pirates, Ben, and Carewyn already had now that he was indoors. It was only once Carewyn, Percy, Ben, Jacob, and Ashe were alone that the two Navy officers and ex-Navy veteran dropped their professional masks and the two pirates dropped their intimidating glares, and Jacob and Carewyn ran forward, throwing their arms around each other and squeezing tight.

“Jacob!” Carewyn breathed against his shoulder as she clung to her brother.

Jacob cradled his younger sister close, absently trailing his hand through her hair in repetitive strokes. “Oh Wyn -- my brave Wyn...”

Carewyn pulled away just enough to look at Jacob. Her eyes trailed over his face, down to the long scar on his chest exposed by his slightly open shirt, and over his curly ponytail, which was currently squiggling like a ribbon in mid-air behind him.

Jacob smiled a bit sheepishly.

“Seems all sailors on the Flying Dutchman become a bit more ‘sea-like’ upon tying themselves to the ship. Rakepick’s hair kind of went all ‘jellyfish’ when she was captain -- probably because of her talent for shocking betrayals,” he added with a rather nasty smile. “Ashe thinks that my hair’s been evoking an eel. Fortunately I reckon I won’t start sprouting gills or turning green unless I actively shed my humanity and ignore my role as ferryman like Jones did...”

The severe look on Carewyn’s face made the smile slowly slide off of Jacob’s face.

“Jacob...when Jones was captain of the Dutchman, he wasn’t allowed to visit dry land but once every ten years,” said Carewyn, her voice betraying the anxiety she felt despite her best effort.

Jacob’s eyes grew a little more solemn. “...I know.”

Seeing the pain in his sister’s eyes, he immediately swooped in and trailed a hand through the hair near the front of her face.

“Wyn, I already planned for this. The whole reason I left you on Isle de Muerta is that I wanted to get Jones’s heart and force him, any way I had to, to release you from the contract.” He swallowed. “...I knew I’d have to be prepared to follow through, if I was going to threaten Jones’s life -- that I’d have to be prepared to become captain of the Dutchman myself, if it came to it.”

Carewyn looked if possible even more upset. “...You mean you planned this? You were really going to kill Jones, to stop him from impressing me into service?”

“I was not going to condemn you, Wyn,” Jacob said in a very forceful, pained voice. “I couldn’t let you suffer because of my mistake -- ”

“Two wrongs do not make a right, Jacob,” Carewyn shot back very harshly. “Jones may have been heartless, but he was still a person!”

“If you disregard the tentacles and claw, anyway,” Ashe said rather coolly. When Carewyn whirled on him with a very reproachful look, he spoke again before she did, “Carewyn, your brother had his fair share of conflict about the whole thing. He hated the thought of killing Jones and joining the crew of the Dutchman. He hated the thought of not being free to go where he wanted, to lose so much time with you...with me.”

Ashe’s eyes were very stony, but they still flickered over to Jacob, narrowing slightly with something oddly resigned. Carewyn’s gaze softened significantly.

“...I hated it for him too,” the merman said lowly. “I still do. But I hate the thought of Jack having died there on that deck more. I hate the thought that Rakepick would’ve actually managed to kill him this time, and there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to stop it. Your friend the Pirate King couldn’t save your brother’s life, but she did prevent him from dying...all because she, like me, couldn’t bear the thought of you two never seeing each other again.”

His lips actually turned up in something of a weak, wry smile upon Carewyn.

“I understand your frustration -- your brother can be amazingly thick -- ”

“Oi!” said Jacob, a bit offended, but Ashe ignored him.

“ -- but I’ve been very fortunate to know the same intense, selfless love from Jack that he feels for you. I’m not going to act like it’ll be easy -- I mean, even if I’d be able to stay on-board on the Dutchman with Jack while he’s here in the land of the living...whenever he goes to the next world as ferryman, I won’t be able to follow. But I can always meet up with him at sea, in my regular form -- I can always catch up, given the proper time...just like I did while Jack was serving under Howell Davis. Until then, I’ll just find someplace to wait.”

Carewyn considered Ashe for a long moment, her blue eyes rippling with a rather indiscernible expression. Then, looking a bit more determined, she strode right up to Ashe and took hold of his shoulders.

“You won’t have to find a place,” she said. “You’ll have one with me.”

Both Jacob and Ashe looked taken aback.

“You’re family, Duncan,” said Carewyn with a smile. “And everything I’ve ever done -- everything I’m doing now -- is for my family...my blood one and my found one.”

She glanced at Percy, who beamed, before turning her gaze back to Ashe.

“You’ll always have a home with me, when you don’t have one with my brother,” she said very firmly. “Always.”

Ashe looked faintly stunned. His eyes trailed over Carewyn’s face, analyzing every inch as if he’d never seen anyone quite like her. His gaze flitted back over to Jacob, whose face had broken into a very warm, tear-choked smile.

Seeing the intense emotion in his partner’s face, Ashe couldn’t help but bow his head and clear his throat as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Ahem...well...that’s...nice.”

He glanced at Carewyn out the side of his eye almost hesitantly. The Admiral’s smile softened that bit more, becoming more sympathetic, and finally Ashe’s face slowly broke out into a very small, soft smile too. He brought up a hand and rested it on the crown of her head, lightly messing up her bangs.

“Guess I’ll just stick with you in the interim, then,” he said airily, “considering the Brethren Court’s instructions.”

Percy blinked in surprise. “The Brethren Court?”

Jacob nodded. “We took a vote and our Pirate King decided that a ‘representative’ should deliver the Court’s demands to the Admiral and the British Crown. Originally the plan was to have Ashe and me rendez-vous with you, and for Ashe to stay with you until ‘the terms were met.’”

“Jack would’ve done it himself if he could, but of course, he sort of needs to stick to the sea, unless he wants to waste his ‘one day every ten years,’” added Ashe.

“What terms did the Court decide on?” asked Ben, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. “I assume they want pardons for themselves and their crews...but just pardoning a mob of pirates isn’t going to fix things on its own.”

Jacob nodded. “Aye. The Court requested a ‘path toward reintegration’ -- one that includes pardons, as well as a job that suits our sailing and, er... ‘financially-inclined’ talents and can be used to build a future for ourselves and any families we may want to support. Amari’s First Mate said there would only be a 58% chance that the King would accept those terms, but he hoped that you ‘being put under duress’ by a pirate while submitting those terms in writing might improve the odds slightly -- ”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Carewyn very primly.

This startled both Jacob and Ashe. Carewyn exchanged a wry smile with Ben.

“We’re already heading to London right now,” said Ben, his smirk noticeably broader than Carewyn’s. “The Admiral plans on requesting an audience with the King himself.”

“With Beckett gone, I’m in the best position I’ll ever be in, to make my move,” Carewyn said, her blue eyes flashing with determined fire. “I’m done with staying silent -- I intend to convince the King to give every pirate the chance to start their lives over.”

And so Carewyn sailed for London with Ashe, Ben, and Percy as her entourage. Meeting King George I would be a formidable proposition for anyone, but Carewyn fortunately was able to prepare a little ahead of time. The Weasley family had grown up near London, so Percy was able to give Carewyn some advice of how to approach the King --

“His Majesty was born and raised in the Holy Roman Empire, so English is not his first language. There are some rumors that he really doesn’t even speak English at all, but I think that’s highly exaggerated -- anti-German sentiment more than anything, you know. One thing that’s for sure, though, is that what he says goes. He’s even ostracized his own son and heir, so I’ve heard, since he was more popular with the British people. But he also can’t stand the Tories -- they never quite accepted his claim to the throne, over the Stuarts...honestly, there are a lot of people who’ve never really warmed up to the man...”

“And financially?” asked Carewyn.

Percy considered this. “...Well, the King’s very wealthy, certainly -- everyone knows that. But I suppose profit would always be advantageous, for the sake of the Empire...”

Carewyn smiled wryly and shook her head. “The Navy has been commanded by the East India Trading Company more than the King himself, as of late. Beckett once equated money with power, and I think there was a reason. If the King’s been leaning so heavily on the Company, that tells me that it had financial resources the Crown is in desperate need of, so the Crown’s own coffers currently depend on the Company’s success.”

Ben got an delighted, devious glint in his eye.

“Bet he’ll be absolutely thrilled to hear what happened to his fleet, then,” he said sarcastically.

Ashe and Carewyn exchanged a smirk too.

“I reckon you could play to that desperation,” said Ashe dryly. “A lack of or loss of wealth is a very common fear among men, I’ve found.”

Carewyn nodded in agreement. 

Within twenty days, the HMS Royal docked in London, a few days ahead of schedule thanks to the almost miraculously clear weather and friendly winds. Carewyn then traveled with Percy, Ashe, and Ben to Kensington Palace. It was only one of many castles owned by the King, but according to Percy, it was the one King George I had renovated the most, so Carewyn sussed out that it was likely his favorite of his residences and so, in her opinion, the best place to seek him out first. Her intuition turned out to be spot-on -- as it turned out, both King George I and his son the Prince were there, and although the King was occupied with his Ministers and couldn’t meet with them until that evening, Prince George Augustus was eager to meet the famous Admiral Weasley and requested an audience in one of the royal drawing rooms.

The Crown Prince of England was an amiable and warm, but not a very clever or intellectual man of about forty years. He expressed a lot of interest in Carewyn’s experience as a Navy hero, sounding rather like a child as he questioned her about facing off against the likes of Orion Amari and the crew of the dreaded ship Revenge. Carewyn did have to tailor her stories somewhat, but after a while, she was able to get Prince George comfortable enough that they ended up talking casually over a game of Cribbage, where Carewyn gleaned a few other helpful insights. For one, Carewyn learned that both the King and Prince knew several languages, the first being French, which was the preferred language at court as well as among royals abroad. She also found out that the royal family had never visited the colonies themselves, and that King George I’s leading advisor on matters of business -- the First Lord of the Treasury, Sir Robert Walpole -- had been personally putting more stock in the East India Trading Company than on investing any additional money into the colonies. From the sound of things, he believed as Cutler Beckett did in the power of money over noble ancestry, and yet the Prince conceded that his wife and father both thought well of him and that he was relatively amiable.

When Carewyn finally got her audience with King George I, she sure enough encountered Sir Robert Walpole. He was a broad middle-aged man with a powdered white wig curled into ringlets who stood beside the gray-wigged, tiny-eyed elderly King -- and the news of Cutler Beckett’s fate and the outcome of the confrontation at Shipwreck Cove visibly troubled him. As Carewyn had thought, the Crown had been counting on the East India Trading Company’s profits to flow back toward England to offset the national debt brought on by the War of Spanish Succession and Britain’s other conflicts...and so, when she made her proposal to the King, she felt rather confident.

“Votre Majesté...the scourge of piracy is indeed a threat, not just to the lives of our citizens, but to the Empire’s prosperity. But the East India Trading Company is a business -- they’re not trained in military matters, nor do they know how best to use the resources of the British Crown to combat this problem. They’re not equipped to deal with sensitive matters of state, which truthfully, I believe this to be. We don’t need to get England tied up in another military conflict...particularly when there’s a much more cost-effective alternative.”

King George I raised his graying eyebrows with some interest, but did not speak.

“And what alternative would you suggest, Admiral?” asked Walpole, looking rather curious himself.

“Investing in the colonies,” said Carewyn very firmly. “There’s still a lot of undeveloped land out there -- a lot of trading potential in beaver skins, lumber, and tobacco -- the possibility of wealth that’s been left untapped by the East India Trading Company, with their intense focus on Asia. These men who have become pirates, many of them, were privateers under us during our War against the Spanish. They know shipping and are in need of honest work. They’ve asked for it explicitly. I say that we offer pardons to those pirates who would be willing to work for a new trading company in New England -- one that can be for the colonies what the Company in India already is.”

Walpole frowned deeply in thought, considering the proposal. King George straightened up slightly in his throne so he could peer down at Carewyn with a beady eye.

“You believe, truly, that these criminals would want honest employment?” the old man asked.

His voice was very quiet and laced with a husky German accent. Apparently Percy was right to think the rumors that he couldn’t speak English weren’t true, but he seemed a bit uncomfortable with the language, all the same.

Carewyn smiled at the King. “Oui, mon roi. Beasts can survive on human flesh alone, but humans need a home and money in order to live well. Et les pirates...pardon, I hope that word is correct...sont juste les humains.”

King George’s tiny eyes softened noticeably.

“Your French is very poor, Admiral,” he said in rather smug amusement, “but your word choice is correct.”

He looked at Walpole. “What say you, Earl?”

Walpole considered his answer. “...It could be an interesting proposition -- were we able to locate someone who’d be willing to put his name, reputation, and estate on the line, to fund such a company...”

“I volunteer.”

Ben took a step forward and gave a low, but clipped bow to the King.

“Lord Earl, Your Majesty, this is Captain Gordon Cooper, of the HMS Royal,” Carewyn introduced him. “He was instrumental in helping me lead our men during the battle at Shipwreck Cove.”

“I already have a small sum of money saved up, your Majesty -- enough to purchase one or two ships of my own, to start with,” said Ben. “I truly believe that the profits I could make with those two ships just from offering safe passage to the colonies would be enough to fund the purchase of another. All I’d need would be some collateral to pay a crew for each ship in advance.”

"A standard ship would only need about ten well-bodied men to sail it and transport its cargo efficiently,” Carewyn said quickly, seeing the slight hesitation in the King’s expression. "I’m no expert in finance -- ” she inclined her head respectfully in Walpole’s direction, “ -- but in order to settle more land in the colonies, trees would have to be cut down...which means more lumber to transport back to England. If the people Captain Cooper’s ships are transporting are settlers who are incentivized to build homes there -- possibly with the promise of land ownership -- then their arrival alone would spark a boom of lumber sales. That could then pay back the investment several times over.”

Walpole’s lips spread into a smile, one wryer than the King’s. He was clearly a much more discerning man than either of the two Georges, but he seemed pleased by the proposition, nonetheless.

“...Indeed it could,” he granted. He glanced at the King. “I daresay old Townsend would be pleased to have some financial leverage for his talks with the Spanish and French...”

“Mm...”

King George I gave a short, pompous nod before turning back to face Carewyn and the others.

“Very well. I grant my favor.”

Walpole inclined his head to Ben. “Captain Cooper, the Crown grants you and your Company permission to sail. We shall provide you a loan of 10,000 pounds sterling for your first twenty sailors and any necessary ship repairs, to be paid back with interest within a year. If your sailors complete a successful -- namely, profitable -- round-trip expedition to London on board those ships, then they will receive a full pardon from the British Crown for their past crimes and be permitted to continue working as part of your Company.”

Carewyn’s companions’ eyes all lit up.

“Understood,” said Ben, his face consumed by a huge grin.

“Admiral Weasley will deliver the terms to the pirates -- quietly,” said the King with a stern eye. “I expect written reports and good results.”

Carewyn’s face burst into a brilliant smile too, which she tried to obscure when she brought an arm up to her chest and gave a low bow.

“Mais oui. Merci, votre Grace -- we’ll work hard pour England, et pour vous aussi.”

The King’s eyes sparkled with the trace of a wry smile. “Vous etes un garçon très divertissant, Amiral. J'espère que votre français se sera amélioré lors de notre prochaine rencontre.”

With the King’s blessing, Ben purchased the ships needed in London and, with Percy’s help, prepared them for their first expedition. Carewyn returned to the HMS Lion with Ashe, taking it out to sea just far enough that the Flying Dutchman could emerge from the water and pull up alongside the Navy ship. Carewyn relayed King George I’s decision to Jacob in her cabin, and the Captain of the Flying Dutchman was so overwhelmed with pride that he threw his arms around his little sister and squeezed her with all of his strength. Carewyn, however, found herself unable to celebrate.

“What’s wrong, Wyn?” said Jacob. He tilted his head to look at her, his eel-like ponytail twitching almost curiously behind him. “You did it -- you convinced the King. The Lords at Shipwreck Cove, all the people who live there, will be able to live normal lives again, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“I know,” said Carewyn lowly.

Despite herself, she just couldn’t meet her brother’s gaze. Her eyes lingered on his shoulder.

“...I just wish I could’ve given you that kind of normal life too,” she admitted.

Jacob’s blue eyes darkened. Bringing up both of his arms, he encircled Carewyn and held her tightly against his chest as he rested his head on top of hers. Carewyn bit her lip, trying to hold in her emotions as best she could.

“I wanted to bring you home,” she murmured. “The whole reason I wanted to fight for a world where pirates could be forgiven was because I wanted you to be able to come home...you and Bill and Charlie and Jules and Orion...”

Jacob squeezed Carewyn that bit tighter. Both Cromwells were crying now, even though they both stubbornly fought to keep themselves from breaking down into full sobs.

Ashe shared a grim look  with Jacob over Carewyn’s head. Then he came up beside both of them, resting a hand on the crown of Carewyn’s head and leaning his forehead against his lover’s, and hummed something low under his breath. The resonant bass tone seemed to slowly calm Carewyn’s heart and breathing and help the tears ebb.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and looked up at Ashe with muted gratitude, before she turned back to her brother.

“...Now that I’ve done my duty and made sure the Crown’s terms were delivered, I intend to send in my resignation to the Navy. I can’t support Ben’s new Company while I’m still Admiral without worrying about a conflict of interest, after all.”

She offered a weak wry smile, which then slowly morphed into a much more gentle one.

“Besides...I think I’m ready to finally stop fighting.”

Jacob’s teary eyes softened fondly. “Then live, my sweet Wyn. Live in peace and happiness...”

With a heavy breath, he picked up the Dead Man’s Chest he’d brought with him back off Carewyn’s desk and faced Ashe.

“I’ll need to head to the next world soon,” said Jacob. “Would you...?”

Ashe inclined his head in a solemn nod. “Give it to me, Jack.”

Very carefully, Jacob placed the Chest into Ashe’s open hands, trailing his own much dirtier, faintly trembling hands over his lover’s once he’d taken it. His eyes darted from Ashe to Carewyn, looking heartbroken and almost starved -- like he longed so much to never look away from them again.

“Be safe,” Jacob mumbled, “and...please, keep a weather eye on the horizon for me?”

“How dare you ask me that.”

Ashe trailed his lips along the side of Jacob’s face in lingering, messy kisses, only pausing briefly to look him in the eye, blazing brown on blue.

“I will always wait, Jack. I will always find you again.”

Carewyn’s eyes were just as soft as she reached up into the inside pocket of her jacket and slowly withdrew a familiar star-like, sapphire-and-diamond pendant for Jacob to see.

It was the one he himself had given her on Isle de Muerta.

Jacob’s eyes flooded with more tears as Carewyn wrapped both of her arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him tightly just as she had then.

“We’ll be there, Jacob,” she murmured. Two streaks of tears slid from her closed eyes. “I promise.”

Jacob delivered the British Crown’s terms to the Brethren Court at Shipwreck Cove within two days, after he’d returned from ferrying the proper souls to the next life. Within a month, a ship full of twenty sailors had arrived in London, ready to man the red-and-blue-painted ships Ben Copper had purchased. The two ships set sail for the colonies, the first up to New England and the second down to the Caribbean, which allowed Percy to return home to Port Royal and go about his duties as Commodore and Ben to finally be reunited with his love Wendy Gordon and propose marriage as a free and prosperous man.

Once the two ships returned to London another month later, the first wave of pardons was signed. From there, Ben’s enterprise -- the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company -- grew, taking on more ships that then proceeded to employ the once-most-wanted criminals in the world and give them a chance at a new life. And Carewyn -- retiring with full honors from the Navy and settling in New York City with Ashe under her real name for the first time since she was a child -- visited the dock every morning to see every ship that came in.

The first ship to New York brought Ellie Hopper. The once-Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea ended up colliding with the soft-spoken third son of the well-respected horse breeder Johan Schaefer in upstate New York, and the two were married within a few years.

The second ship brought Merula Snyde and the stylish Frenchman Andre Egwu. The captain of the so-called “most powerful ship on the seven seas” continued as a merchant, breaking off from the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company to buy her own ship and engage in the tobacco and sugar trade between New England and the southern colonies. Andre opened up his own clothing shop in Philadelphia and soon became one of the most sought-after tailors in Pennsylvania.

The third ship brought Bill and Jules.

When Bill caught sight of Carewyn at the dock, he practically barreled his way down the ship’s gangplank and shoved a good ten people aside to reach his best friend. The two gingers and Jules then clung to each other for what felt like hours, tears of joy streaming down their faces as Bill trailed a hand through Carewyn’s now-loose-flowing hair and Jules fawned over Carewyn’s pretty new dress.

Bill and Jules also brought a letter from Charlie with them --

My twin, Carey,

I’m sorry I won’t be able to give you this news in person -- but I won’t be accepting my pardon for a while yet.

At Shipwreck Cove, I met a woman named Sarahi (I don’t believe you know her, but she knows you, and Orion spoke very well of her), who grew up in the area of the Pacific Ocean. According to what she’s said, it’s been left largely in chaos since the death of Bartholomew Sharp -- sea serpents, carnivorous sirens, giant squids, the whole lot...and as Pirate Lord of the Pacific, it’s my responsibility to manage things there. But hey, you know I’ve never been afraid of a little adventure! Particularly when I’ve got a good crew on my side. My First Mate Barnaby’s injuries have completely healed, so we, Sarahi, and Samantha O’Connell will be heading out within the next three days on the new and improved Revolution. Sam and Sarahi helped me paint some red dragon wings on the sides, just as a flourish!

I miss you so much, and I miss Bill already, just writing this -- but I know that we won’t ever be truly apart, even when I can only see you in my mind’s eye. I know you’ll probably be worried about me, Carey, but please don’t be. I’d trust my crew with my life -- I already have, honestly, and they sure haven’t let me down yet! I can’t wait for you to meet them. I reckon you’d probably “mother” the hell out of Barnaby, and Sarahi was really happy when I told her how good of a singer you are, so she’s very excited about the prospect of singing with you. And Sam...I reckon you and she will get on famously.

Remember, Carey...we’re family, now and forever! You’ll be in my mind and heart always, until I sail up into New York Harbor and see you again! If Bill hasn’t given you the biggest hug ever for my sake, then give him a good kick to the shin and remind him. Take good care of him, Jules, and Percy for me. Love you so much.

Your brother,

Charlie

Bill and Jules Weasley ended up settling down and starting a family of their own in New York City, just twelve blocks away from where Carewyn and Ashe lived. It was not uncommon over the years for both Carewyn and Ashe to pick up babysitting duties, though Ashe most frequently would just use his particular talent for singing to put any fussy children right to sleep and then drop them off in either Carewyn’s or Jules’s lap.

Over the next six months, more and more red-and-blue ships passed through New York Harbor, dropping off more pardoned ex-pirates so they could start new lives in the colonies. Then one day, toward the end of spring, Carewyn left the brick house she shared with Ashe as if to head for the dock as usual, only to stop mid-step at the sound of someone shouting her name.

“Carewyn!”

She turned around, her ginger hair flourishing behind her as if in slow motion.

A man had just leapt off the back of a carriage he’d been hanging off of without the driver’s knowledge and was now running toward her. Carewyn squinted, taking in his unfamiliar dark ponytail and sailor’s clothes -- then, within seconds, she recognized the handsomely smiling, bearded face and his shining, galaxy-like eyes.

“Orion?” she breathed.

Her heart seemed to seize up, as if it were being squeezed in someone’s hand and yet being given wings at the exact same time. Then she threw herself into a run, and it slammed against her rib cage, as she ran to him, flat-out ignoring how her knees kept getting caught in her hoops and her heeled shoes pinched her feet.

“Orion -- ORION!”

She just about tripped into his arms. Orion caught her and swooped down on her, burying his face in her hair.

“Carewyn...” he murmured against her neck.

“Orion,” said Carewyn.

Her voice was strained with the effort of trying to contain her joy. It felt like she was being stretched at the seams and probably could’ve exploded from all the intense emotions beating at the edges of her heart. She secured her arms around his neck and clung to him -- she brought her lips up to the side of his temple and kissed it, resting her forehead against his briefly before finally pulling away enough to look him in the face.

Orion was beaming from ear to ear as he brought up a hand to trail his thumb gently along her cheek.

“...Carewyn Cromwell...I don’t think you’ve ever looked more fair.”

Carewyn smiled. “Does that mean you like my new look?”

“Yes,” said Orion, his eyes grazing her black-and-white-striped dress and the diamond-and-sapphire pendant tied with a black ribbon around her neck briefly, “but that’s not why you look so fair. You’ve been my moon goddess, previously...but now you are Libertas, personified.”

Carewyn laughed, her face contorted with confusion. “What?”

“Libertas, Carewyn,” repeated Orion, his huge smile never faltering. “The goddess of freedom! Freedom is the most beautiful thing, Carewyn. I’ve longed for it all my life, but never could truly have it, whether because I lacked the means of survival or because I was a pirate who could only live on the run. And when we first met again, on the Artemis...the thing that hurt me the most, seeing you again...was knowing that you were trapped by your position -- enslaved to the duty that made you hide who you were and march lock-step with the likes of Cutler Beckett. But now you...in this moment, here...you are free. It shines in your eyes, on your face -- it radiates off of you like a star, Carewyn. Better still -- because of you, I am free. For the first time in my life...I’m completely free to chase my heart’s desire...”

Orion’s smile seemed to shrink slightly, not out of lack of happiness but out of something almost like nerves, as he reached into his lone remaining belt and slipped out a familiar black-lidded compass.

"McNully, Skye and I have been offered salaried positions with the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company,” he said a bit more seriously, “so I may have to return to sea in the future, but...”

When he opened the compass, its scarlet arrow was pointed right at Carewyn.

“...My heart’s desire has not changed. I would always return, if you...”

He trailed off, his tone oddly shy for how calm his face appeared. The once-Admiral’s red-painted lips spread into a bigger, fuller smile too as she rested her hands on top of his.

“I wouldn’t have married you in the middle of a storm if I didn’t want to build a life with you, Orion Amari,” she said gently. “Or is it Cromwell now? We may want to make a decision about that...”

She smoothed some dark hair out of his eyes.

“I already told you that I want you to have a home. If you need to fly like a bird...then I’ll be your nest.”

Carewyn placed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. His black eyes softening, Orion brought up a hand to hold the back of her head, holding it in place. He kissed her chastely in return once, twice, and then deepened the kiss on the third go. After he released her, he lingered, his lips brushing up against hers as he smiled down at her.

“...My dear Bedlam maid...I will always follow your song home.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes sparkled affectionately. “Then I’ll never stop singing.”

“See that you don’t,” said Orion, his black eyes glittering with some wry amusement. “I do believe I said I’d envisioned a life for you where you married a man that you could sing for.”

Carewyn laughed quietly, but after a moment, she brought her forehead beside her husband’s, her arms secure around his neck as she held him close and sang for him.

“So now these two are married, and happy may they be, Like turtle doves together, in love and unity.

All pretty maids, with patience wait, that have got loves at sea – I love my love because I know...my love…loves…me.”

#THE END! #*collapses* #holy friggin' s*** #wow #I'm overwhelmed #but happy! #very happy! #83 #interestingly george i died about a year after the end of the golden age of piracy #so really it's a good thing that carewyn was able to make nice with both him and his son who of course became george ii #george ii also retained walpole as an advisor so the piracy pardons would've been able to continue into george ii's reign :) #ashe naturally would spend half his time at carey's place and half on the sea with jacob when he was in the world of the living <3 #and yes charlie would pop into new york harbor now and again with his crew #I just see him living happily ever after on the high seas rather than on land #I'm sure there were other pirates who followed charlie's path too #hphm #hogwarts mystery #carewyn cromwell #potc au #orion amari #jacob cromwell #duncan ashe #percy weasley #ben copper #gwendolyn gordon #samantha o'connell #sarahi silvers #barnaby lee #my art #my writing

[libralita]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Suzanne Collins

Summary: Ambition will fuel him. Competition will drive him. But power has its price. It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute. The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined—every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute . . . and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

So, this is a bit of a “disclaimer” or more of an interesting fact: I’ve technically never read The Hunger Games Trilogy. I had to read the first book for my English class, and it was a time where I hated being told what to read so I used SparkNotes. We also watched the first film in that class but that doesn’t really matter because A) that was like 8 or 9 years ago and B) it was for my class so you can bet I wasn’t playing attention. So, for all intents and purposes, I have not read the Hunger Games. Now you may be asking why I decided read this…seemingly controversial book rather than the much beloved original trilogy. Cuz my friend said I should, the audiobook sample intrigued me, and when are you going to see a review of this book from someone who hasn’t read the original trilogy?

Before I go into spoilers with this book, I just want to say as someone who has at best a surface level understanding of the Hunger Games trilogy, I think people are being a little bit harsh about this book. This book made me completely understand why Coriolanus Snow went down the path that he did while also not glamourizing it or making excuses for it. I genuinely felt bad for this young man who has delt with so many hardship that no one would should suffer through. However, he still does horrible things and the book recognizes that he does horrible things. It is a fascinating character study with a bit of background on how the Hunger Games came to be. Perhaps my opinion will change once I read The Hunger Games trilogy (which I intend to do) however at this point I think this was an amazing book and you should give it a fair shake. Now, onto spoilers.

The only flaw I found with this book was it was a bit too on the nose with a couple of things. First some of the names. Gaul. Satyria. Highbottom. I know that Collins started off as a middle grade writer and these feel like very middle grade character names. They just describe the characters a little too perfectly. In YA, it’s more popular to make characters where their names’ meanings give an insight into their character. Not a huge problem but a bit silly.

Second, I’m a little conflicted on the political talk. On the one hand, holy shit a YA book that talks about political theory? In an intelligent way? That’s not just screaming about real world politics? Oh my! On the other hand, it’s a little too on the nose. Gaul having Coryo write about the Social Contract and then this conversation:

“‘I do. Unless there’s law, someone enforcing it, I think we might as well be animals,’ he said with more assurance. ‘Like it or not, the Capitol is the only thing keeping anyone safe.’ ‘Hm. So they keep me safe. And what do I give up for that?’ she asked.”—Page 434

Hobbes would swoon over Coryo. It wasn’t bad just on the nose. And to a degree, I get it, I’m working on getting my masters in political science and I’ve read Hobbes and Rousseau whereas most the intended audience probably hasn’t. So, I call this a nitpick for me

Other than this book being a little too on the nose, I found very little fault in this. Maybe the Post-Games story line was a little less interesting but it still wasn’t bad by any means.  This book is a character study of Coriolanus Snow, so I’d like to talk about him and his dissent. While reading this, my friend asked me if I hadn’t known that Coryo would one day become President Snow, if I could see it coming. And, while it’s hard to tell exactly, I think Collins manages to balance both Coryo being sympathetic and showing how he could become the person that he is in the trilogy. There are three…phases or Coryo’s life that really illustrate how he becomes President Snow. First is his life during the War. Second, is his life During the 10th Hunger Games. Then his life Post-Games. Collins does a wonderful job of portraying what it was like for Coryo during the war. The horrors he had witness of enjoying the life of luxury at an early age and then his world crashing around him. Of his family dying. Of the struggles to survive. Of him witnessing his friends’ parents restore to something horrible like cannibalism. It’s brought up a lot because it’s something that scarred him.

Now his During-Games life/the first half of this book. Coryo and the people around him are clearly dealing with the PTSD of growing up in a war zone. He’s essentially starving through most of this section during the book and on the verge of losing of what little he’s held onto since the War ended. I feel really bad for him. There was a part of me during this section where I hoped along side him that Lucy Gray would win the Hunger Games, he could go to University and continue his relationship with her. Maybe they could have changed Panem for the better. And while in this section he was no pure angel, you could see Gaul and Highbottom pushing him to become a worse person. You could also see the red flags that become worse in the Post-Games section.

There are two major red flags I picked up on during this read through. First, is his relationship with Lucy Gray. He’s very possessive of her and he gets very jealous when she sings about another guy during The Hunger Games. This made the relationship slightly uncomfortable for me…though let’s be honest if Sejanus was pining after Lucy Gray he would be acting no different from any other YA love interest (shots fired.) He actually reminded me a lot of Jace from The Mortal Instruments. The second red flag is his treatment of Sejanus. In a meta sense Sejanus is your typical hero and the fact that Coryo is using him (and really anyone besides maybe his family?) is a giant red flag to me as a reader. He doesn’t like Sejanus or Mrs. Plinth. He just wants to use them. Which is really sad but shows that is eventually dissent into Post-Hunger Games Coryo is foreshadowed.

Now, let’s talk about Post-Games. I took a break once the Games ended because I was a little unmotivated to keep reading. I didn’t know if I would like Coryo leaving the Capital. I liked seeing the political maneuvering of the Games and his dynamics with his classmates. However, watching his dissent was great. His relationship with Lucy Gray went from slightly concerning to full blown toxic. His possessiveness of her really amped up. Coryo also isn’t really happy to see Sejanus because it’s a friendly face, it’s because there’s someone to recognize his status and for someone he can use. Again, another moment of possibility of where Coryo could have let Sejanus and maybe Lucy Gray escape and he could have gone off to become an officer. Work his way up and become the President. However, he didn’t take that path.

It was so heartbreaking to see Sejanus die, there was still a glimmer of Coryo’s humanity where he genuinely felt guilty but you could see his self-preserving nature showing its ugly head. And then his journey is cemented when he can’t handle being out with Lucy Gray so he may or may not have killed her, then he goes back where his family pictures are ruined and his mother’s powder is mush. The only thing left his is father’s compass.

Speaking of his father, one final character I’ll mention is Dean Highbottom. I wish we got a little bit more of him because his view of Coryo is interesting. It seemed like Collins gave a very subtle story about how Highbottom was worried that Coryo would turn out like his father. But Highbottom ended up created the monster he wanted to prevent. If he had shown Coryo compassion and understanding, he might have turned out differently. This ended up getting Highbottom killed which was a great way to end the book. Sad but great.

Overall, I think this is a great story. I loved seeing all the different roads Coryo could have taken and how things could have turned out differently. I am planning on buying the Hunger Games trilogy so it’ll be interesting to see how this changes things for me.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #suzanne collins #reviewsdaytuesday #ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games

[missaudreyhorney]

Little Magnum

Anon requested the idea of adopting a puppy with Jim Hopper and who am I to say no to something so fluffy and adorable? Major help was provided by chiefharbour here on Tumblr, plus harboursouce and hideloveaway on Instagram.  

1.9k words of self-indulgent silliness and mentions of other ST characters. 

Your friend’s dog escaped from her yard about 5 months ago and had herself a wild night on the town, getting pregnant with a litter of mixed-breed puppies. Most of them had been given out to different families but there was one pup left, a little boy with white patches on his honey-colored fur. El had subtly mentioned to you that she’d never had a pet before and you wanted so badly to get her one, as it would make her time alone at the cabin a lot less boring and isolating. There was just one last obstacle and his name was Jim Hopper.

Since he speaks very little about his childhood, you had no idea if Hopper ever had a dog before, or even any type of pet at all. Based upon the little he has told you, it was easy to assume that if he ever had a dog, it was strictly for hunting and probably slept outside or in a shed. That’s not the way you grew up though. You’ve always had pets and they’ve always been like family to you. You knew it was going to be hard to sell him on the idea of getting a puppy, but that’s why you had your strategy well planned out. All you had to do was tell Hop that the two of you were going to visit a friend of yours and once he saw the dog himself, he wouldn’t need much convincing.

On a Friday after work, he picked you up and drove you over to Jill’s house. As Hopper entered her living room, his eyes immediately went to the dog. He walked over to it and crouched down onto one knee. “What’s up, little guy?” he said, letting it smell his hand before he pet it. The puppy lavished the back of his hand with endless licks, causing Hopper to chuckle. This was easily the happiest you’d seen him in weeks, if not months. Within the first thirty seconds of him interacting with the dog, you could already sense a connection being made. He talked to it in a tone of voice that you’d never heard before. “You got sharp little teeth, don’t ya, boy?” The puppy rolled onto it’s back and Hopper rubbed its belly. “Yes, you do! Yes, you do.” You clamped your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from giggling. This was the first time you’d ever seen him act this way.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” you asked. “Yeah, he’s adorable. How old is he?” “Nine weeks,” Jill answered. “You’re just a baby, huh?” Hopper cooed at the dog while you and Jill exchanged a knowing look. “The vet said that’s a perfect age for them to find a new home.” He didn’t react, he just kept playing with the puppy. “You hear that, Hop?” “Yeah...” he answered slowly.

All the humor and happiness drained from his face as he connected the dots. “No,” he replied simply. “What do you mean? ‘No’ what?” you feigned ignorance. “Absolutely not,” he continued with a stern expression. You glanced over at Jill on the couch as she drank her Tab and minded her own business.  

“Can you excuse us?’ Hopper asked in his most charming voice. “We’re just gonna go outside for a minute.” Jill nodded, “Sure thing, hon.” The two of you left and stood on her porch. Smiling up at him expectantly, you took one of his hands in yours. “We’re not getting a dog,” he told you flatly, “especially not a puppy.” Your shoulders drooped with disappointment. “Why not?” you whined. “Because I said so,” he stated calmly. “That’s not fair,” you whined again.

“I don’t care if it’s fair. I work long hours, and when I get home, I need to be able to relax. I don’t have time to be chasing after a little dog, making sure it’s not chewing everything up.”

“Come on, Hop,” you pleaded, “I promise I’ll take care of it. You’ll still be able to relax.” You held both of his hands in yours. “Dogs are a man’s best friend, remember? You can do some male bonding together. He’ll be like the son you never had.” Hopper rolled his eyes at you dramatically, knowing you were laying it on extra thick to persuade him.

“What about El? I’ve never seen her interact with a dog, what if she’s scared of them?” “She’s fine with it,” you said matter of factly. “What do you mean ‘she’s fine with it’? How do you know?” his voice went up with a tinge of anger. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her we’re getting a dog. She just dropped a few hints to me before about not having a pet, so when Trixie got pregnant, I asked El what she thought about dogs and she told me she got along great with Will’s before it ran away.” You regretted saying those words as soon as they escaped your mouth. He wasn’t supposed to know that this was a setup.

Hopper took a step forward, his body closer to yours, his beautiful blue eyes glared down at you. “You little brat,” he scolded playfully, “you planned this all behind my back, didn’t you?” You pressed your top and bottom lips together tightly to suppress a smile. “You probably already have a name picked too.” You burst into a fit of giggles. “Magnum,” you declared. “Magnum,” he repeated with a chuckle and scrubbed his large hand over his face.

Determined and unfazed, you continued your pitch. “I wish you could have seen yourself in there. The way your face lit up. Can you imagine the look on El’s face if we bring home this puppy? Can you imagine how happy and surprised she’ll be?”

He gave a heavy sigh as a slow smile spread across his rugged features. “Alright,” Hopper said decisively. ”Let’s go back inside and get Magnum P-U-P.” You ignored his terrible dad joke like you often do. “Really? Are you sure?” you inquired as he opened the screen door. “I think my mind’s already been made up for me,” he replied. “You’re right. It has,” you stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek before you entered the house again.

As soon as the door opened, the dog ran to him and he scooped it up into his arms. “Guess what, little guy? You’re coming home with us.” The puppy licked Hopper’s face, almost appreciatively as if it understood what was going on. You couldn’t have been any happier if you tried. As the vigorous licking continued, he scrunched up his face. “Okay, that’s enough,” Hopper laughed then handed you the dog.

“I’m so glad you’re taking the little terror off my hands,” Jill joked as she gave half a bag of puppy food to Hop. He shot you a regretful look that you pretended to ignore. “We’re glad too, aren’t we?” you suggested and he rolled his eyes at you. “Yes,” he answered, his look of annoyance fading into a genuine smile. The three of you left in the Blazer and drove straight to the feed store to get a collar, leash, and new bag of puppy food.

In the month that has passed since then, things have been somewhat chaotic, with Magnum living up to his reputation as a terror. Every other word out of Hopper’s mouth seems to be “Magnum!” as he is constantly reprimanding the dog for something or other. Usually for tinkling in the house, as all puppies his age do. You’ve basically having to train them both; the dog to go outside, and Hop to take him out on the leash instead of letting him just roam around the woods by himself.

The puppy barks his tiny head off whenever Mike comes over, growling and even biting the boy if he tries to pet him. It’s the only bad behavior that Hopper actively encourages from the dog. Other than the unexplained animosity towards her boyfriend, El and Magnum get along swimmingly, with him being at his most calm when he’s around her, frequently sitting on her lap as they watch tv together. It’s probably because of the bacon you’ve caught her slipping to him during breakfast.

One of Magnum’s worst habits is that he’s a sock thief. Not just any socks though, they have to be Hopper’s. He ignores any that belong to you or El, as if he’s a sock connoisseur and those just aren’t up to snuff. You’ve found them hidden all over the cabin, though they’re most often under the bed or in between the couch cushions. While he is content with stealing them off the floor, his favorite method of theft is to take them directly off of Hopper’s feet. He bites the end and shakes his little head back and forth until they’re wiggled and yanked all the way off. Sometimes Hop gets mad, especially when the puppy accidentally nips his toes, but a lot of the time he allows it to happen because it’s just so stinking cute to watch.

For as much as Hopper complains about the dog, you know it’s just a facade. You keep finding empty bags of treats on the counter. On multiple occasions, you have arrived home to see that he’s been given a new chew toy. You’ve come across Polaroids not only of Magnum by himself, usually in those seemingly rare moments of slumber, but also of Hopper holding the puppy on his shoulder. The last time you were at the station, you caught him showing some of them to Flo as if they were baby pictures. The thing that truly cemented his love for the dog was the sight you discovered tonight.

You having to work on the weekend and El spending all day at the Wheeler’s house left Hop and Magnum alone by themselves. When your shift is over, you almost dread going back to the cabin, having no idea what type of disaster you’re going to be coming home to. As you unlock the front door, it’s eerily quiet inside, so quiet that it causes you to become concerned. There doesn’t appear to be any disaster at all when you walk in, which would be a relief if it wasn’t so far out of the ordinary.

“Hop?” you call out as you put your things down by the door. “Hopper?” you repeat a moment later and a bit louder when there’s no answer. A feeling of worry growing in your belly, you creep over to the bedroom and slowly move the curtain. Stealthily peeking your head inside, your mouth instantly curls into a smile. Sprawled on the bed is all six feet and three inches of Chief Jim Hopper snuggling with tiny little Magnum as they’re both fast asleep.

The sight not only puts your mind at ease but warms your heart. Up until now, Hopper hasn’t allowed Magnum to sleep on the bed, instead having him sleep on an area rug with a baby blanket on the floor. You almost want to take a picture, if not for your own sake, for the sake of hearing what Powell and Callahan would say. You refrain, however, knowing that the flash would likely disturb their rest. Instead, you slip into your pajamas and curl up in bed with your two favorite guys, feeling so grateful for the little family you have created.

#Jim Hopper drabble #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #Hopper x Reader #Hopper x You #jim hopper fluff #PURE FLUFF #soft Jim Hopper #jim hopper fanfiction #gender neutral reader #I did it #Little Magnum

[six-of-woes]

The Clown and the Potato Sack (Aerin Valleros x MC)

Chapter 1/? : ...What Now?

Paring: Aerin Valleros x MC

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533863

Word count: 2381

Summary: Now with the Dreadlord defeated and her friends out of Whitetower, Cassia Nightbloom, is bored. Extremely bored. She wants to do literally anything, but she doesn't know what. Her solution? Try to get some answers from a certain corrupt prince. Unfortunately, that leads to a wacky yet angsty adventure involving a potato sack, a wooden spoon, and A LOT of clowning around.At least she's doing something...right?

Authors Note: Hi so this is my first time posting fic on Tumblr so if I’m doing something wrong feel free to tell me just be nice about it because my ego is fragile Anyway! I hope you guys like it, I thought we clowns could use some content until book 2 comes out. Idk if i’ll ever continue this, i meant for it to be a one-shot but I couldn’t really get my whole plan into one chapter. So. Hopefully there’s more. No promises tho lol

@what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil @theclowneryqueen @findmeafterlife @0oi-io0 @thatgirlbuhle @mirabelle-choices @souhmhey @king-erzsebet @vlastomilsworm @diamonds-and-decorum @xsweetnspookyx

~~~

Cassia watched from the castle balcony as a raggedy caravan rolled out of Whitetower. They’re really gone now, she thought, turning her back on the city. There was a new kind of…emptiness inside her now that Mal, Nia, Tyril, and Imtura were all gone. Maybe they’d only known each other a few months, but to someone who barely had any family to call their own—it struck a certain chord with Cassia to see them go.

She sighed and noted the setting sun—her reminder that she should probably get to dinner. Not that Cassia wanted to spend yet another dinner answering the pointless questions of all those stuffy nobles, but she felt obliged to as Morella’s hero—at least until she figured out where she was going to go from here.

As Cassia walked through the towering corridors, she thought some more about where she wanted to go. Kade wanted to go back to Riverbend(but only after he’d exhausted the library), not in any particular mood to experience any more danger than he already had. Of course, Cassia couldn’t blame him. If she’d spent months in a realm of pure darkness being tortured, she would want at least a break as well.

But that was the thing: she hadn’t been in the Shadow Realm and she wasn’t like Kade. Cassia always thirsted for adventure and as much as she loved Riverbend, she spent twenty out of the almost twenty-one years of her life there. There was so much more out there and if her nightmare had any shred of truth, Cassia knew she had to be there.

But where? She’d already decided against going with any of the others when they left—Cassia’s injuries would make intense sailing with Imtura or any of what Mal had planned painful and difficult, and she wanted to give Nia the room to figure things out on her own. The idea that seemed most plausible for her was going undercount with Tyril. It would’ve been a prime opportunity to learn more about where she came from, after all. Yet…she still felt awkward going there—Cassia knew almost nothing of the elven societal cues and would feel a little useless when trying to help out Tyril with her duties.

She shook her head as she reached the doors of the dining hall. “Never mind all that.” She muttered. “I made my decision.”

“Finally!” Called a voice. “You had me thinking you were going to bail!”

Cassia looked up to see Kade, sitting on one of the corridor benches. He held a new book in his hand, different from the one Cassia had seen him reading at breakfast.

“Sorry,” she muttered, leaning against the closed doors. “Just wanted to make sure the others made it out of town safely.” She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded toward the dining hall. “Let’s just get to dinner.”

Kade raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless followed Cassia into the hall.

When they entered, Cassia was surprised to see only King Arlan, Threep, and Loola sitting at the table. None of them looked particularly cheerful—not even Threep, who just stared at his dinner plate with a somber expression.

“Your majesty,” Cassia breathed, dipping into a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to be in your—“

“Oh hush, Cassia,” Arlan said, shaking his head. “There’s no one else here and you’ve more than cemented yourself as a friend of the crown.”

Cassia coughed and straightened up. “Right…Is there any particular reason for the ah—grim mood and significant lack of nobles?”

Arlan cleared his throat and eyed the nespers. “Well…there’s news.”

Cassia felt her heart catch in her throat. News? It can’t have anything to do with what that hooded being said in my dream, could it? No, of course not. It was just a nightmare…right?

“Is something wrong?” Kade piped, eyebrows already creasing with worry.

The king shared a look with Threep and Loola, who looked back at Kade and Cassia.

“Aerin’s awake now,” Threep said, stretching his wings. “I saw him myself in the dungeons—he’s still very much corrupted, but—“

“He’s quiet,” Loola spoke. “All he’s done is hug his knees and stare at the wall.”

Kade scoffed. “Sounds to me like he’s scheming. Want me to punch him again?”

Cassia elbowed her brother (lightly) in the side. “I’m sure it’s fine. Even if he was scheming, there’s really nothing he can do. His cell is surrounded by guards 24/7, there’s a magical barrier around it, and besides, if for some reason he gets out—“ she gestured to the three weapons of legend she had strapped to her body. “I’ll have it handed.”

“Sure,” Kade said, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at the table. He went to drink from his goblet, but a playful smirk graced his lips. “You’re just saying that because you kissed him.”

Cassia grumbled as she took a seat next to Kade at the table. “We don’t have to keep bringing that up,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “That was like, a month ago—before he was you know—evil.”

“Whatever you say,” Kade taunted, still smirking as he took a sip from his goblet.

~~~

The rest of dinner was relatively low-key. Cassia filled Arlan in on what the others were going to do now that they were gone and Kade entertained them all with wild stories from the deep corners of his mind.

Once dinner was over, however, and Kade, Loola, and Threep all returned to their previous business, leaving Cassia to do as she pleased. Problem was, Cassia didn’t really have anything to do.

She found herself standing in the middle of the corridor for what was longer than considered usual—even for Cassia.

“Dammit!” She cried, hours later. “I’m bored as all hells!” In a fit of rage, Cassia kicked the solid gold leg of a nearby bench. Solid. Gold. Promptly after kicking it, Cassia let out a pained yelp and brought her foot up to her arms.

After a few more seconds of hopping on one foot and whisper-shouting an array of curses, Cassia collapsed onto the bench and buried her face in her hands.

“Gods…” she groaned. “I really need to get out of here and do something more dangerous than stubbing my toe.”

But, what was there to do? The most dangerous place Cassia could think of was the Nooks and Crannies—but the real danger was really the guards and Cassia wasn’t interested in picking fights with them right now. She and Mal had already informed Arlan of the corruption, there was no need to escalate a situation that was already under control.

She thought back to visiting them with Mal…and how they got out of their scuffle with the guards.

Unconsciously, Cassia ran her fingers over the ring Aerin had given her. She still hadn’t taken it off, even after the betrayal. It was a reminder of their night at the lake.

She let out another groan. There were so many things about that night that didn’t make sense. Why would he save the unicorn? Sure, it could’ve been to defy Baldur, but…the character he’d been playing didn’t seem like the kind to do that kind of thing. And besides—it was a living thing. Cassia kinda figured the shadow realm had a thing against them—as long as they weren’t a part of their little posse. So why? Why would he do it?

And as a matter of fact, why did he actually not not want to be with her when she “pretend” (as she liked to tell herself) flirting with him during the final battle? That was weird. For someone with such a cold and hardened heart he certainly seemed pretty open to still having her be with him. Were her seduction skills really that good?

Well, to be fair, she did seduce a giant bug. So maybe they were.

So many questions and no way to get answers. Unless…?

He’s awake. Cassia thought. You could go down there…I’m sure the guards would let us—a hero of the realm—go see him. Maybe you could get some answers. Only answers though. You don’t like him anymore, remember? He kinda tried to kill you and all your friends. Also tried to take of the world. So only answers. Nothing else.

She thought about it for a few minutes. No one other than the guards would have to know, right? Not Threep, not Loola, not Arlan or Kade…and especially not Mal. The snitch.

“Godsdammit,” Cassia groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m this bored.”

And with that, she got up and headed toward the dungeons, against her better judgement, yes, but even if she didn’t want to admit it…

…Cassia was a horny bitch.

~~~

Aerin had been put at the lowest level of the dungeons, about four stories below ground. Why the castle need that many floors was beyond Cassia, but nonetheless, she continued her journey down. Down. Down. Down.

Aaaannnnd it turns out walking down stairs for what feels like an eternity is just as boring as standing in the middle of the corridor. Only difference is the corridor is WARM!

“Do you hear that?” Echoed a guard’s voice.

Cassia stopped in her tracks.

“Yeah. Sounds like footsteps. Probably Woodworth and Highmourn coming to relieve us early. Let’s just get going early, tonight’s my anniversary and I don’t want to have to make it up to the ol’ husband again.”

“What about the prince? Weren’t we given strict orders to not leave him alone?”

“Ack, who cares? I mean, look at him—what’s he gonna do, cry about it?”

There was a bout of hearty laughter followed by the clanking of armor. Thinking fast and remembering Mal’s trick, Cassia dodged out of the guards sight and held her breath until they passed. Once she was sure they were long gone, she sprinted the rest of the way down the stairs until she reached Aerin’s cell.

At first glance, it looked like any other cell—dark, damp, and decrepit. But when Cassia got closer, she could see the gold haze of the magical barrier keeping him in. Well, if nothing else, he should at least have a hard time getting out of that. Cassia thought, slowing down to a tip toe the closer she got.

Finally, she reached Aerin’s cell. Unsure if whether or not he was aware of her presence, Cassia just stared. He looked so small. Of course, before all of this, Cassia still had maybe a few inches on him, but then, he wasn’t absolutely helpless. He wasn’t wearing the brilliant red and gold suit he wore the whole time they knew each other, instead wearing a brown tunic and pants that looked more like poorly-stitched together potato sacks than actual clothes. Even in the dark, Cassia’s elven vision could see that he was still grey. Many of the dark veins had gone, but he was still very much corrupted by the shadow.

What do I even say to him? She thought, slipping the Gauntlet of Pain on and off her wrist. Obviously, I’m just here to get questions, so like, just ask him a question. Duh. Easy. Don’t make it awkward. It’s not like you kissed him or anything—oh wait.

“Ahem—“ Cassia started.

“—I already said, I don’t want any food, Highmourn. Now please, if both of you could shut up while I brood I would much appreciate it!”

Cassia coughed. “Sounds like somebody didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Aerin gasped and whipped around, scowl deepening when he saw Cassia standing over him.

“What are you doing here?!” He spat, rising to his full height(which unfortunately for him, didn’t really look intimidating to Castalia). “Are you here to rub it in? To gloat? Where are all your friends? Am I just not worth their time?”

Cassia sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Aerin. I’m not here to antagonize you—you’ve already done that enough—“

“—You just antagonized me! You lie!”

Cassia raised an eyebrow. “…And you’re a drama queen. I’m just here to ask you a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Aerin scoffed and turned his back to her. “What reason could I possibly have to answer to you? You won, Cassia. You got everything you wanted and I have nothing. Why do I have to give you anymore?”

A few seconds of silence passed. Cassia tried to deny how much that stung, but the tears that started to well up in her eyes proved otherwise.

“Fine,” she snapped, voice wavering. “I’ll only ask you one thing. Then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your miserable life. Is that enough for you?”

Aerin’s shoulders hunched. “Only if it’ll get you to leave.”

“Alright.” Cassia’s hands balled into fists. “What happened?”

Her words echoed through the dungeon. Seconds passed where the only movement was that of the salty, salty tears rolled down Cassia’s cheeks.

Eventually, Aerin’s shoulders relaxed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you were my friend, Aerin. And I want to know why you could so easily go from someone sweet, kind, and compassionate to literally trying to take over the world.”

“Easy,” he spat. “I’ve been corrupted by the shadow court and had a damn good way of hiding it. Can you go now?”

Cassia sighed. “But that night at the lake…you saved that unicorn. If you had such a hatred for human life, why would you save it?”

“That’s more than one question.”

Gods, is this who he really is? Incredibly difficult?

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll leave. Have a nice life.”

Cassia wiped her face and turned to leave. Of course she wasn’t gonna get the answers she so desperately wanted. They were right there. What was the point of coming down there anyway?

“Wait!”

She stopped.

“I’ll tell you what happened, Cassia. But…it’s a long story.”

Cassia turned back around and saw Aerin, grasping the bars of his cell with the same vulnerable, hurt, look she remembered from the Deadwood.

She walked back over and took a seat on the ground.

“I have time.”

#blades of light and shadow #bolas #aerin valleros #prince aerin #Aerin x mc #blades of light and shadow fan fiction #fan fiction #playchoices #pixelberry

[monst]

Normal Infatuation

All characters 18+

Toga Himiko X f. reader.

Warning: Dubcon, I seem to only know how to write long pieces :o, Girl sexy time

             Golden eyes burned figurative holes in your skull as they glared at you with a fiery passion. You were across from where she was standing. On the right side of Shiragaki Tomura. He didn’t favor you per se, much to the relief of the blonde. However, she couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that churned the inside of her stomach. You had a neutral expression as you spoke to Shiragaki, almost serene. And, that look warranted her envy. You never looked at her like that. As a matter of fact, it seemed like you purposely chose to avoid looking at her.

             “Himiko-chan?” The villain known as Twice had been trying to get the beguiling woman’s attention for some time.

             “What.” She said sharply a frown on her lips, very uncharacteristic for her. Twice took noticed immediately.

             “You should at least pretend it doesn’t bother you.” He tried. He had long given up his feelings for the blonde much like she had given up her feelings for the hero Deku.

             “Shut up.”

             Why had she given up her ‘love’ for Midoriya Izuku? Well the reason was standing so close, speaking to her boss. And, it was you and she knew you knew. Which made it that much more infuriating.

             “Leave immediately and, Take Himiko with you.” Her blood ran cold. Her once scowling features turnt up in surprise a soft pink painting her fair skin. Her boss had just told you to go somewhere with her. She was ecstatic. You only frowned.

             “I can go by myself.” You told the crusty man. Repulsed by the thought of having the blonde girl slobbering affection all over you.

             “Damura said that I can use you as I please. I don’t like repeating myself.” He replied a threat underneath his tone.

             “Fine.” You said and left to grab a couple items to take with you on your assignment.  

             “Oi whack job your drooling.” Dabi commented a bit grossed out at Himiko’s flustered gushing. As Himiko walked in the direction you left she vaguely heard him mutter. 

“This should be interesting.” She couldn’t agree more.

“Ne Ne (Name)-Chan isn’t this great!” Himiko chimed from beside you.

“Yeah, what a riot.” You sassed picking up your pace.

             To say that you were not amused was an understatement. You were livid. Everyone knew that you did not like Himiko Toga. When you were first thrust into the hands of the decayer by Damura you were neutral about everyone. However, it became apparent to everyone else that you shunned the blonde. You wouldn’t acknowledge her presence in a room, you ignored her comments, blocked off her questions, at times you’d snap at her calling her useless, annoying, bratty any and every insult under the sun. However, no one knew why the girl rubbed you the wrong way….

“Aren’t you excited.” She said reaching out to tug on your sweater. You quickly swatted her hand away.

“Don’t be stupid were just killing Dr. Ujira and, stealing documents.” You informed blankly.

“Right! Shiragaki said I’d need a lot of his blood for the next phase. On the paper it said he was (your Blood type) right?” She asked.

You nodded as you looked at her from the corner of your eyes. You cringed at her growing smile and her flushed expression. You resisted the urge to shiver as her eyes raked your form. You did let out a cough once she started staring at your neck for longer than a normal. Well as normal for her. You really did hate her crush on you. Her way of thinking that love meant becoming the person made you sick and that was saying something considering you were a criminal yourself.

“I’m glad. You wanna know why?” She said linking her arm with yours smiling gleefully when she felt you tense.

“Why.” You muttered trying to pry her arm of you.

“Because you’re talking to me!” She said placing her other hand on her scorching cheeks. “You don’t do that regularly.”

“Tch. Don’t read too much into it you Bloody pervert.” You groaned giving up on removing the strong woman.

“Why are you so mean to me.” She pouted.

“Look Psycho-ward were not friends, so I don’t have to be nice to you. Now let go. The warehouse is right around the corner.”

She let go and, bit her cheek her sharp incisors cutting the soft flesh. As she tasted the metallic of her blood, she couldn’t help but be frustrated with you. She hid her frown with a smile and bounced to your form that was peeking around the corner. She grasped your arm to her chest letting it rest between her breasts.

“You’re so silly (name). Of course, we’re not friends I love you too much to stick with such an unfitting title.” She beamed.

“Shut up Toga.” You hissed. “Now’s not the fucking time to talk about your dumb obsession.”

You tried to push her away, you really did but she was like a road; cemented. You were really starting to panic it was late and you knew the Doctor would be leaving soon. If he left the warehouse, then your job would become much more complicated. You really didn’t have the time for her dramatics.

             “Toga.” You hissed. “Let’s do the fucking mission then talk about your fucking feelings.”

             “But I wanna talk now.” She whined like a brat.

You saw red. You really couldn’t believe how childish she was being. She was jeopardizing the entire operation! You were so, so angry you-

             “You mother fucking blood pervert!” You exploded shoving her off you onto the floor. “Take your dumbass grotesque feelings and shove them up your ass to shrivel!”

             “I can’t!” She shook her head furiously tears coming to her catlike eyes. “I can’t! I can’t! I love you too much! It hurts! It hurts when you push me away! When you ignore me! I don’t understand why you hate me so much!!” She bawled.

             You grit your teeth in annoyance. “I don’t care about you or your damn feelings. Who the hell would? Trying to become someone you love how stupid.” You glared down at the crying girl. “Your love just wants to kill me, to see my ‘precious’ blood and, then use your quirk to turn into me! Now what sane person would allow that!?” You spat.

             Her eyes were blown wide at your words a horrified expression on her face. Guilt gnawed at your heart. You’d never been this harsh with her nor had she ever shown such a face. Your guilt vanished once your calmed down some and realized where the commotion was taking place.

             “Fuck.” You cursed your anger once more directed to the girl. “Yes, I hate you! How the hell could you stoop to becoming a villain when you had such a normal life!? When you didn’t have a quirk pushing you to become a villain! When you didn’t have to be one by association! When you had a fucking choice! Why couldn’t you think!? Why the hell couldn’t be a bit more fucking normal?!”

             ‘Normal’ That word bounced around her head and she looked up at you. You were saying something a worried look on your face, but she couldn’t hear a word. All she could hear was that one word that tormented her during her youth. She watched mutely as you were apprehended by two burly thugs. She did nothing she was yanked up by her collar and, you were both pushed to walk to the warehouse while you thrashed and yelled wishing your quirk could help in situations like this.

             You yelled at Himiko to come too, but she didn’t even acknowledge your words. With a bit of a struggle the men sat you down and tied your wrists to the chair. The man who grabbed Himiko tossed her onto the ground near you and started yelling at her for answers. Until he drew his hand up and,

-Slap-

             “Oi don’t fucking touch her!” You snarled angry (e/c) glaring at the perpetrators.

It was with that slap to her cheek that brought her back. She then noticed your shared predicament. She noticed that your hands were bound to a chair while she was three feet from you against a wall. They probably thought that the cute blonde wasn’t threatening.

             “Shut up.” One of the men said.

             “Yeah how’s ‘bout you tell us why you pretty ‘lil girls are ‘round hea?” The one to the left said.

             It was hard to see but you made out three thugs and, the doctor scurrying about gathering papers. Your eyes wandered to Himiko to see if she was alright. You caught her gaze and motioned to her equipment. ‘Do something’ your eyes implored. Your stare was blocked off when one of the unnamed assailants grabbed your chin harshly. The Doctor noticing both of your unresponsiveness figured that you two weren’t a threat and walked over.

             “What are you two doing here.” He asked in a nasally voice. He looked you over jeans, sneakers and a sweater then to Himiko’s schoolgirl outfit. His eyes trailed up her legs making you scowl. “So, two kids playing a prank hah?”

             Your eyes narrowed and, you bit back a grin. “Yeah We were told no one comes here so we were dared to come in.” You lied.

             “Really then why were you arguing around the corner.” He sneered.

             “She was trying to back out.” You replied easily. “Now can you let us go…..” You asked keeping up pretense.

             “I don’t know. What do you boys think.” The doctor grinned.

“Please just-“You started only to have your plea cut off.

             “She’s lying.” Himiko said causing your heart to freeze. Your eyes shot to her face frantically.

“T-toga.” You said with a gasp. You couldn’t fathom how she had just blown your cover. ‘What the hell?! It was supposed to be a simple infiltration Toga kill one Toga takes his form and, we take down the rest. What the hell is she playing at?!’ You thought worriedly.  

             “Shigaraki sent us to kill you and steal your documents on the progression of Nomu stem cells.” She said looking at you with a glare the whole time she spoke. “As a matter of fact, I’m sure he told (Name)-chan that he was tired of your inconsistent bullshit right (Name)-chan?”

             “Actually, she wanted to kill you all herself, that would have been possible but, she’s all tied up!” She said a grin coming onto her face. “And, her handguns are right here!” She cheered pulling up the weapons.

             Before the men had time to move, she squeezed the trigger on both pistols and, caught the man who was in front of her in his stomach. The other bullet soared and embedded itself into the head of the man who held your chin. You watched in slight awe as the angle in which she shot him spared you the splatter of his plasma. ‘Not bad.’ You mused.

             The doctor scrambled back quickly pushing the last unnamed man towards Himiko. She smirked drawing the gun point blank and shot without hesitation. As the tall man fell he took the beefy doctor down as well. Himiko’s eyes glistened in glee her sadistic side welling up.

             “I don’t really like using guns.” She said tossing the weapons to the side while She pulled out her needle attached to the machine on her back. “But I think I can make you suffer with this right?” She said happily.

             The man’s eyes widened in fear as he struggled to push the body that was crushing him off. You only spectate as her shoes clacked on the floor. ‘He must be so scared.“ You thought as you watched the blonde advance. You slumped back in your chair and pulled out a small knife you carried and, worked on the ropes while Himiko did whatever to the doctor. You’d probably tell her later about being grateful. Once free you walked towards the table where the doctor was at earlier. You disregarded his cries of pain when Himiko dug the needle into his eye but, you couldn’t help but frown at her words.

             “Ne Doctor-san I would have kept up with (Name)-chan’s game but, you made her almost beg~” She pulled back and, plunged the needle in his throat making you wince. “No one’s allowed to make (Name)-chan beg but me~ I couldn’t let you get away with that could I?”

             You let out a sound of indignation as you ignored them all together and searched on the desk for the documents you needed. Out of the corner of your eye you realized something strange. Himiko didn’t have a drop of blood on her. Usually she would bathe in the blood of her enemies as she had once said. You didn’t dwell on it. You probably should have.

             Once she drained the doctor, she’d have to imitate in the future she removed her pack from her back. She replaced the needle and, sterilized the equipment while changing the glass tube that contained the doctor’s blood. You had your back to her. Perfect.

             “(Name)-chan?”

             “Hmm.”

             “You said that I didn’t know love because I just wanted to kill you and become you.” She said and guilt hit you like a truck.

“Ah about that, I’m really sorry I went off on you I said some things I shouldn’t have and-“

“It’s okay!” She chirped. You could feel the smile on her face from behind you. Your eyes rolling with an amused huff.

“You know it’s okay to be angry at me I did say some heavy shit.” You said nonchalant.

“No, you said that’s not love. And, your right. But what I feel for you is real love! I don’t want to become you like I did with Midoriya… I want to become one with you!” She grinned.

Your face grew hot at her words but, you figured that since she did save you the trouble of injury that you could at least be nice. Besides you did ‘hate’ her for your own prejudices. ‘After all she isn’t that bad’ You thought. 

             “(Name)-chan at first I thought you didn’t like me because you didn’t like girls.” She continued.

             “Look Toga, I already apologized and, I feel kinda bad for making you do most of the work. So let’s let by gone be by gone’s and not talk about this again. Heck I’ll even get you ice-cream if we drop this conversation right now.” You said making a stack with the papers that were important. “it’s been such a long ass day.’ You thought.

             “No. I wanna talk about it. From what I heard you care about me too!” This time you turned to her and, sputtered giving her your best confused look. “You said so. When you yelled at me saying I had a choice. You were trying to say that you wished for something better for me. You’re so sweet. And, when that fat doctor looked at me you were angry right? I know you were I saw your face!” You watched in disbelief as her face was a rosy color her eyes filled with sick adoration.

             “T-that’s not what I-“She walked forwards making you take a step back and bump into the metal desk. You decided to stay still as she approached, you were determined to show no fear. ‘But I stopped talking isn’t that a sign of fear?’ Once she was about three feet in front of you, she tilted her head cutely.

             “Your so cute (Name)-chan and, remember I forgive you but it’s not nice to just leave me empty handed.” You swallowed thickly at her words.

             “Then what do you want?” You asked tentatively.

             “Your so cute when your guilty.” She cooed reaching out her hand to run her fingers on your cheek. “I want some of your blood.”

             “Should have known.” You said letting out a relieved sigh. “Fine, it’s fair enough I’d hate to feel like I owe you.”           

             “Kya~ Really wow! You said yes!!” She smiled her eyes curling up in an endearing way. ‘Fuck this cute bastard’ you thought.

             “Hurry the hell up before I change my mind…. Wait?! What the hell do you plan on doing with my blood?!” You barked.

             “Mmm with your blood I could turn into you and gaze at your wonderful body whenever I want~” She purred.

             “I- “You didn’t get to finish as Himiko pressed her pointer finger to your lush lips. While she moved herself closer, her lips brushing against your earlobe.

             “Shhh I wasn’t done. Then I’d go around the base and, tell everyone with your body that you belong to me~ I’ll toy with my body in front of the mirror to see all the delicious faces you could make for me~”

             Your eyes enlarged at her words and, you let out a strangled gasp when Himiko skillfully inserted the needle a vein running down your arm. Himiko was flush against you. You could feel everything from the curve of her breast to the thrumming of her rapid heartbeat.

             “I can’t wait to see it~ Your gorgeous face gasping and moaning with ecstasy. Your flush breast and, perked nipples~ Your juicy cunt just dripping for me~” She finished with a moan tickling your ears.

             Your felt a spark of want in your lower abdomen. You never would have guessed the thoughts that Himiko had of you. You didn’t want to admit that her words had any effect on you. Besides you still disliked her the thought of indulging with her couldn’t cross your mind. Even though it had.

             “Shut up be-besides how much blood are you going to take? I’m already feeling a bit lightheaded.” You frowned. Now that you had mentioned it you were in fact feeling lightheaded. “T-toga that’s enough.”

             “It’s almost two pints. You can hold up- “

             “No Toga that’s enough!” You said struggling to push her away. You were getting dizzy.

             “I like you begging~ It got me a bit mad when you were going to beg for the doctor to let us go….” She said slowing down the rate of sucking…

             “Toga stop p-please.” You said going weak. She grinned and pulled the needle back making you groan.

             “Relax it starts getting dangerous when I take more than thirty percent.” She said pushing your weak from atop the desk while partin your legs to stand between them.

             Your heart rate had increased your breathing heavier due to the blood loss. In the blonde’s eyes you looked like someone who was turned on, it didn’t help that your half-lidded eyes gave you a sultry look. Toga couldn’t help but want to take advantage of you. When would she ever get this chance again? You weren’t at the top of your game and you were feeling some symptoms of blood loss. With that in mind, her soft lips ghosted over your lips. Your reaction time was sluggish and, before you could stop her, her lips pressed against yours in a gentle kiss.

             She drew back from you with a dazed look on her face. Her index finger touching her plump lips in disbelief.

             “What you think your-mmphf” She had cut you off once more pressing her lips to yours firmly. She grasped your hands that were trying to push her off and, interlocked her fingers as She held them down by your thighs while she traced your lips with her tongue. Even in that state you kept your resolve and made sure to keep your mouth shut. She responded by taking your lower lip between her teeth and biting down teasingly. When you didn’t cave at the sensation, she bit your lip roughly blood pooling from the small cut her vampire like teeth left behind. You gasped at the sting while her tongue broke through the frontlines.

             She immediately went for your tongue swirling hers around yours flirtatiously. You let out a moan when she sucked your tongue. She pulled away to allow you both to breathe. Your lips were barely touching as you both greedily guzzled air.

             “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.” She breathed. Her lips crashed against yours with more fervor. She let one of your hands go and let her hand glide up your thigh to caress your face. She detached her lips from yours and, took in your embarrassed state. Himiko pressed her forehead to yours and, spoke.

             “I want you so bad (Name).” She said seductively.

             Your cheeks burned at the brazen words. You’d never had anyone speak to you in such a manner, what with growing up with a whack-job of a grandfather. In your shock she let your other hand go in favor of running it up your sweater. Her fingers slipped under the fabric and, met the expanse of your smooth stomach. You shivered as her cool hands drifted upwards. You felt the hand on your face rub small soothing circles while her other hand stroked the softness of your belly.

             With slow movements her hand reached your breast and, she enclosed her hand over the soft mound. You let out a gasp averting your eyes from the heated gold that observed your expressions. From above the fabric of your bra she teased your nipple circling her finger over the area. Her lips then moved to your jaw planting a kiss there only to move towards your neck. You shivered when her tongue ran down the length of your neck. Himiko nipped at the sensitive skin while she removed her hand from your face to pull up your sweater.

             “T-toga I don’t think-“  You were cut off by her pulling the fabric over your head. She smirked when she noticed your lack of shirt under the hoodie. Her lips met yours again in a deep kiss her fingers unclasping your bra. Your nipples stood on point as the change in temperature. Himiko’s hands cupped the soft flesh firmly making you arch into her touch. The pads of her fingers kneaded the pulpy flesh making you sigh into her mouth.

             She pulled back from your lips and, when her fingers went to tug on your hardened nipples you let out a moan.

             “Ah~” Your mind was hazy the feelings of her sot fingers against your skin muddling your mind.

             “Your so cute (Name)-chan” She giggled running a hand down to your jeans to undo the button.

             You found yourself thinking that Toga might have another quirk. Your body felt hot and, constricted. And, for some reason the thought of removing your clothes and, being bare for Himiko had pressure pooling in your loins. With that in mind you kicked your shoes off and lifted your hips when Toga pulled down your jeans and tossed them.            

             Your breath was heavier and, the warehouse felt a lot more humid. Toga’s fingers felt like shocks of electricity whenever she’s stroke or knead your skin. Said girl grinned when she noticed the damp spot on your panties and, how you tried to close your legs. She sensually ran her hands down your body from the curve of your breasts to the dip of your waist and hips until her nimble fingers pulled at the elastic of your underwear.

             “I want to see all of you~” She breathed.

             Mind lost in lust you wanted nothing more than for her to continue touching you. You hadn’t ever had anyone touch you so softly and tenderly before and, you wanted more. You needed more even if it was Toga.

             Once the garment was off your body Himiko’s eyes took in all of you. Her lips curled into that attractive smile of hers and she spoke.

             “Your even more beautiful than I imagined.” Her lips coming to peck yours again. Her hands lifted your thighs making your body move farther onto the desk while further exposing your pussy. She pulled back and licked her lips. You really were too perfect. She then kissed down your body stopping to press a kiss on each peaked bud then down the valley of your breast to your stomach. Her lips pressed another gentle kiss above your sex.

             Your heartbeat loudly in your chest as you looked down at her. Between your legs she looked so erotic. She kissed your clit suddenly and you breathed in sharply when her tongue ran down your cunt. She lapped at the slick escaping your core and moaned.

“Mmm You taste amazing sweetheart.” Her half-lidded eyes looked up at you as she went down on you. Your breathing increased as her tongue licked and sucked at your labia occasionally stroking your clit. Her teasing was driving you mad. “Such a pretty pussy~”

“Tog-ah!” You yelped when her mouth moved to suck on your clit. Her fingers parted your folds and, inserted a finger into your tight walls. You gasped at the foreign feeling and you whimpered as she pushed another finger into your throbbing heat. You hadn’t ever touched yourself like this and, as she continued to eat you out while pumping her fingers you thought about how you didn’t want her to stop.

             “Mmm Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cried out when she curled her fingers putting pressure on your g-spot. She stroked the area as her tongue drew circles around your clit. Your hands came to her hair burrowing in the soft tresses as you pulled her closer to your dripping cunt. “Toga~”

             The pressure building up stopped when Himiko pulled away and you let out a whine to which she chuckled.

             “If you cum now your body would be overstimulated.” She grinned as she made a show of removing her clothes. Your eyes drank her body in as she dropped each piece of cloth. You couldn’t deny that Toga was beautiful. You bit your lip when you felt your pussy throb at her naked form. Your hands reached out to take her soft breasts in your hands. She let out a sigh when you rolled your fingers over her nipples but pushed your hands away.

             “Look (Name)-chan” She grinned as she held up her soaked panties. “You’ve made me this wet~”

             With that she gently pushed you back on the table as she climbed on the sturdy structure herself. She shifted to have one of her legs between your while the other brushed against the outside of your thigh not between hers. You looked up at her in desperate need for relief.

             “Don’t worry baby this is gonna feel great!” She said as she lowered her pelvis to meet yours. You both let out a mewl as your pussies met your clit lining up against hers perfectly. She started grinding down on you at a slow pace.

             “Oh~ You feel so great.” She cried out pushing down harder to create more friction. You moaned moving your hips along with hers pussy quivering in pleasure. Her pace picked up as you threw your head back onto the table.

             “F-fuck ah! Toga!” You yelped.

             “Oh~ baby yes! You feel so fucking good.” Her hand that wasn’t holding your legs went to grasp your breast making your cry out in ecstasy. Your own hand kneaded her own as she pushed down her hips harder. She pushed your hands off her body and watched in fascination as your hands went to pinch and grasp your breasts. Your mouth was agape letting out mewls and moans. Your face flush while your tongue lolled out due to all the new pleasurable sensations your body was feeling.

             “Ah~ That expression!” She groaned pushing her fingers into your mouth. “It’s mine~ ah! It’s all mine.” She gasped her pace quicker and rougher. You were close the band in your belly expanding and, your wanton moans growing in pitch.

“I don’t want you looking at the boss like that mmm that expression is mine too hah~ Your all mine!” She shrieked the rolling of her hips much more erratic. Your eyes rolled back at her words as you came body twitching with your orgasm.

“Toga!” You yelped and, you felt your pussy pulse in the aftermath of your orgasm. Himiko came not long after her body spasming above you. You both panted trying to regain your breath. Toga gave you a sheepish smile as she leaned down to cuddle you. You only rolled your eyes a small smile playing on your lips. You really hated her sometimes.

A blank expression was on your face as you passed Shigaraki the documents he requested. His red eyes narrowed at you and, he voiced out his complaint.

“Why are the papers so wrinkled?” He frowned.

“There were certain…. Complications…” You drawled.

“Do these complications have anything to do with that big ass hickey on your neck?” Dabi snickered.

Your face burned in embarrassment as you tugged the collar of your sweater. Yup! Sometimes you really did hate Toga Himiko.

             Hey! Hello, if you got to the end of this then yay! Now for a confession This took me longer than I thought (2days) Why?: I kept putting it off. I’ve never written Toga nor have I ever written gxg smut. I did my ‘research’ but idk if it turned out okay……….

#bnha #bnha insert #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha himiko #Toga Himiko #Bnha smut #toga x reader #Toga Himiko smut #gxg #himiko x reader #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #league of villains #toga himiko lemon #unofficial knife wife blog #tw: dubcon #tw: violence

[twinxyjinx]

Tick...Tock...Tick.....

Plot/Prompt: A game of tag goes horribly wrong for Peter and Tony.

TW: Major character death

Reposts are appreciated ^^

You can also read it here on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739538

                                                  __________

Every night, Peter went out to save the world in his own little way. Swinging through the air and doing flips, shooting a sticky fluid at muggers and crooks, and even just helping that one orange tabby cat get out of a tree. It was always something he did. A routine that had been engraved so deeply into his mind that it was an automatic system his body seemed to have. He would always go out, school homework or not. He always threw himself high above the streets below, eyes wide and scanning for any signs of threats. Sometimes he was even accompanied by a friend on the phone or even another “hero.”

This night was one of those nights. That being said, it was a much less active night. Nothing terribly amazing had happened, and Peter found himself chasing around a red and gold suit at ten pm. Not what he had exactly expected this whole “Spider-Man” gig to lead to, but here he was. Chasing around the Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, in a game of tag. It was an odd and hilarious sight to see when you first saw it, but it became something common after a year or so. There was even a group of little kids that sat at a park sometimes that would jump up excitedly when they saw Iron Man diving low to avoid Spider-Man.

It was good. Life was good. There was nothing that could go wrong! ...but then it did.

“Having trouble catching up there, webs?” Tony taunted over the coms that had connected the suits automatically once in range. The billionaire was currently weaving between street lights, his thrusters humming softly so as to not disturb anyone. He was flying through the air on his back, palms aimed towards his feet as he looked back at Peter. The boy was flinging himself high into the air, swooping low, hooking himself on a street light, and then proceeding to arc back into the air. An obvious attempt at gaining momentum.

“You should add some of those fancy thrusters to my suit.”

“Not happening.” “Oh c’mon! Why not”

“Because,” Tony stopped in place, hovering in air near a taller building and slowly letting himself rise higher into the air. “Because I said so.” He finished, clearing his throat and looking down. He expected to see Peter speeding up the side of the building or shooting webs at him, but he didn’t see a thing. Just empty space with no sign of the spider-themed vigilante. Stopping his ascent, Tony furrowed his eyebrows and hummed thoughtfully. “Peter? You there? ...Marco?”

“Polo!”

The shriek that came spewing out of Tony’s mouth left the man a bright red and Peter a laughing mess. The boy had come down from above, tapped Tony’s shoulder, and proceeded to swing away. With the added advantage of falling down and gaining more momentum, the first swing he took was big and propelled him forward a good amount of distance. But that wouldn’t save him. Tony blinked his eyes and shook his head, bending his knees and curling his body in on himself. A moment later, he was kicking his legs backwards and zooming forward after Peter. It was nights like these where he truly allowed himself to relax. Peter was an entertaining kid, and that was saying something since Tony didn’t like children. He was a verified genius in Tony’s eyes. But that wouldn’t stop him from making mistakes. 

He narrowed his eyes on Peter’s form, watching as the kid webbed onto the corner of a roof and sent himself hurling around the building. Tony twisted his body, dipping his right shoulder towards the ground and turning the corner less sharply, losing some of the speed he had built up. Thankfully, it wasn’t very hard to get it back with his thrusters. “You can only outswing me for so long, kid.”

“You aren’t swinging, mister Stark. I can only evade you for so long.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me.” 

“Don’t you take that tone with me.” 

Peter parroting what Tony had just said was enough of an encouragement to call for backup. He brought his right wrist up to his mask, raising a hand and tapping a holographic button labeled “Bird V2.” Then his focus was set back on Peter… who was nowhere to be seen again. Tony’s first instinct was to look up, but he got one hell of a surprise when he was suddenly being pulled down. 

His head snapped down so fast that he thought he’d given himself whiplash. But it was worth seeing Peter crouched on top of a streetlight with some web attached to it. Said web was also attached to the heel of Tony’s suit. “Cya mister Stark!” The kid stood upright, saluting lazily as he fell backwards off the streetlight. Tony watched as the kid shot out a web towards another building, yet again, but he wasn’t worried about Peter escaping. He watched, humming in amusement as a sign showed up in the corner of his screen. Back up had arrived.

“Getting a little windy, Peter. Wouldn’t you say?’

“Huh- Woah!”

And suddenly, the air is howling. Peter’s web that he had just shot towards the corner of a building goes slack and flails around while the kid desperately twists in the air, legs churning and arms shaking around wildly. But Tony doesn’t panic. He knows what caused that burst of wind, and he can say for sure that Peter is safe. His suit brings him forward towards Peter where he taps the boy before reeling away.

A moment later, Peter is perched on top of a roof. “That isn’t fair! Sam can’t help you!”

“Yes he can.” Tony cocked his head, hovering a few feet in the air in front of Peter. “You never said he couldn't.” He pointed out jokingly, pointing a finger at Peter as if to tease the phrase ‘i gotcha there.’ He craned his neck over his shoulder at a faint humming, raising an eyebrow as Sam wandered over. He stopped a little above Tony, a smug smirk plastered across his face. “That’s for Germany, web-head.” Sam sneered in a teasing tone, earning a thread of sputters and word vomit.

“Thank you very much my bird friend.,” Tony waved a hand at Sam, a little chuckle leaving him at the annoyed expression that danced onto Sam’s face at the nickname., “but me a bugs here have a game to get back to playing.” He threw a thumb towards Peter’s direction, who had now fallen silent and was definitely glaring icily at the two heroes. Sam snorted, folding his arms. “Ah, yes. A great game of tag… y’know, it’d be a shame if I told the others that you were playing tag.”

“Steve already knows, and it's safe to say Natasha knows too. The only people you’d surprise would be Clint and maybe Bruce… and honey bear if you count him in.” 

“Man, you are no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun!” Tony threw his arms out to his slides, facing Sam. “Now shoo. Go on, now. A little birdy told me that Clint is trying to beat your high score in Mario Karts.” Tony waved his hands, carelessly tossing a few jabs and teases here and there. Sam reeled backwards, eyes widening. “He’s what?!” And before Tony or Peter could get a word in, he was doubling backwards and whirling around in the air, zooming off towards the tower.

Tony snorted and turned back around to see Peter standing with his arms folded, tapping one foot. “No more enlisting the help of other Avengers from now on. I let it slide the first time with Steve, but now it's just unfair.” And Tony can just see Peter rolling his eyes beneath his mask as he recollects what had happened when he got Steve’s help. Sure, the kid almost got hit head first with a shield, but it was worth hearing him shriek and Steve panicking.

“Fine, fine… No more outside forces. Got it. I understand.”

“Don’t lie to me mister-”

Then there’s a crack. A terrible, loud crack that shatters the calm atmosphere. He can practically feel the air around him breaking like glass. There’s a brief moment of frozen shock and he manages to briefly catch a warning flaring in his vision: “high-speed object incoming.” And then there’s this terrible, terrible feeling that pools in his gut. This terrible feeling that sends him reeling- wait. No. Peter just did that. Because one second later, Peter is jumping off the building straight into Tony. 

He hits him with a thump, and the sudden weight brings the suit down. Having set his thrusters on a low setting to keep them quieter had meant that the suit wouldn’t be able to support too much weight. Having done that meant he was sent crashing to the sidewalk below, his thrusters flickering as he clumsily falls to the ground. The heel of the suit hit the ground first, sending him tumbling backwards onto his back with Peter still pressed up against his suit. For a moment, his suit scrapes against the cement as his thrusters push him along before dying off.

“...Jesus.” Tony breathes out shakily, letting his mask retract. He brings his chin to his collarbone, looking at Peter who is sprawled out on top of his chest suspiciously quiet. “Up and at ‘em, kid. The cement isn’t getting any comfier.” He jokes, ignoring the fact that he has just used a word that isn’t in the dictionary. But all of his focus is on Peter. Because he still hasn’t moved. Not even a grumble of words. Nothing. He blinks a few times before slowly sitting upright, his hands moving to guide the motionless body on top of him to the cement.

And then all the air in his lungs is violently ripped away.

There’s a stomach-churning amount of dark red forming around Peter’s stomach on his suit, turning the vibrant red into something close to black. He way his body slumps lifelessly to the side and how his neck lolls at a sickening angle is enough to send Tony into overdrive. He’s on his knees in an instant, ripping off Peter’s mask. “Scan him.” He spits out, tapping Peter’s pale cheek with his hand gently. Nothing happens except for Peter’s head lolling another way. “GSW to lower abdomen. The bullet hit him in the side around his hip and traveled up, finally stopping around his rib cage on her left side. Immediate medical attention required.”

“Call Sam.” He had to be closest. He had just flown by, after all. And so what if he saw the kid’s face. This was a matter of life or death. “Tell him to get medical and get here fast.” His voice broke off into a whisper as his hands moved to Peter’s side. He shakily intertwined his fingers and pressed his palms down on the area where the red was coming from, trying to even his shaky breathing.  

“Jesus- fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Boss. You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!”

“Judging from your elevated heart rate and-” Tony cut the AI off before she could finish, practically snarling into his mask. “Not now!” He’d seen the kid in bad shape before, but never this bad. Sure, he got a concussion sometimes and maybe a broken bone. Hell… When that big guy in Germany hit him, it nearly gave Tony a heart attack. But this was different. This was a gunshot. This was life or death. 

“ETA on Sam!”

Time was moving too slow. Tick.. tock… tick…...tock……….tick……

“No heartbeat detected.” The blood in Tony’s veins turned to ice. He shook his head, peeling his hands away from Peter’s body. No… no, no, no, no, no! A low, mournful sound left him, eerily rising out of his throat. Oh god… No. No. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening! “Pete? Peter? Buddy… hey, hey. C’mon. Open up those eyes now.” He whispered, his voice coming out as a croak. Trembling hands slowly slid up towards Peter’s face and he gently tapped his cheek once again.

Nothing.

“..get up.” He whispered, voice trembling. He stared for a few moments before his body just moved on its own. He drew his arm back, suit still encasing his hand, before swinging it forward and slapping the boy. “Get up! C’mon!” He demanded. Frantically, he moved his hands over top of Peter’s chest and began compressions. He couldn’t think clearly on whether or not this mattered right now, but he didn’t care. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… breathe, Parker! Fucking breathe!” His voice was shrill, cracking and shaking. This wasn’t happening. Clenching his jaw, he reeled backwards and threw his head back, letting out an animalistic scream. And then he was slumped over, arms folded on top of Peter’s chest as he sobbed. No, no, no… This couldn’t… it was fake. “Wake up… c’mon… you can do this.” His gaze drifted blearily to Peter’s face, his stomach churning as he stared at the lifeless face that didn’t even twitch. Skin ghostly pale… lips turning blue.

“You can’t do this to me, kid! Goddammit!” 

He shot upright again, hands flying to Peter’s shoulders. He jerked the boy upright into a sitting position, shaking his body. “Open your eyes! Please! Just do something! Anything!” He begged, a sob rising in his throat. But nothing happened. Peter’s head lolled lifelessly, dropping so that his chin met his chest. His arms were dangling at his sides, knuckles turned towards the sidewalk and brushing up against it. 

“Please.” 

And then he pulled Peter close. He brought the lifeless body of the kid he was supposed to protect close to his body, cradling it. With one hand wrapped around Peter’s back holding onto his shoulder and the other cradling his head, Tony wept. He bowed his head, ugly noises rising from him as his shoulders bounced up and down. He squeezed his eyes shut, fat, salty tears waterfalling down his face.

Tick...tock...tick…………..tock.

#Irondad and Spiderson #spider son #iron dad #Iron Man #spider man #spiderson and irondad #major character death #tony stark #peter parker #sam wilson #falcon

[its-a-branwen-thing]

On Qrow: Part 1

Buckle up, people, this is a Qrow appreciation post and it is a few weeks of brain gems so it’s loooonng and broken up into...two? three? I’m not sure yet parts because I love this man and his future story potential has me in tatters.

Qrow’s arc this season has been about recovery. Recovery from his alcoholism, his self doubt, his persistent pessimism. You love to see it. And it was evident from his introduction that Clover was supposed to be instrumental to that in an illustrative way. How instrumental, I think, is up to interpretation. (Yes, I did in fact heavily ship Fair Game and no, I am not here to discuss that topic, as this is a post on Qrow’s character moving forward). But as much of a help as Clover was he also served as a vessel for some very interesting tidbits and breadcrumbs that I think will service the future of Qrow’s character.

“I just found working alone tends to be for the best.”

“Well I think that’s a shame.”

It sure is a damn shame, Clover. E3 is our first real introduction to this character and his subsequent partnership with Qrow. My interpretation of these scenes is tinted heavily by my shipping brain which has shipped nothing in it’s life ever and decided now was time to read into this ill-fated, doomed relationship so in trying to look at them objectively, it seems that the start of Clover’s interactions with Qrow are about the latter’s relevancy. Which maybe we, as an audience, have also been questioning. If V6 proved anything, it was that team RWBY and JNPR are coming into their own and Qrow, who has been a guiding force for them these past few seasons, might no longer be needed in that same capacity. So what’s next for the mentor whose mentees are all grown up? Well, quite a bit of growth.

Ah, the infamous truck scene. Love it or hate it, Qrow and Clover have some dialogue here that moves the former’s arc towards something. There are two specific Clover lines I’ll point out as being significant:

“It’s a good thing they had someone to look up to, get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“Those kids wouldn't be where they are without you. You’ve had more of an effect on them than you realize.”

The crux of Qrow’s struggle is that he’s bad luck and he’s often so down on himself because he feels his presence hurts those around him, namely those he loves. That’s why I find the phrasing of these sentiments so interesting. Clover isn’t reassuring Qrow that he’s not bad luck. He’s reassuring him that he is an asset to his team regardless. That his guidance was something he should be proud of. He’s building his confidence in connection to others, which is exactly the thing Qrow is most sensitive about. And, ironically, what I find most compelling about his and Raven’s vastly different semblances in that they directly oppose their character’s foundational beliefs and functions. Qrow has always shown he’s wanted to be close to others. His semblance, as we know it so far, largely prevents that. And if a semblance is part of a person’s soul, than what does that say about our dusty old crow? (More on that...whenever)

“No one wanted me. I was cursed.”

This line hurts me so much. Let’s back up for a bit. Just a bit. This is a helluva moment in V6E4 because not only does it show us Qrow’s breaking trust and faith, it’s also ultimately what sends Ozpin into dormancy. It’s Qrow saying meeting Oz was the worst luck of his life that initiates his retreat into Oscar. Like the final twist of a knife in the gut. Qrow being one of his remaining generals likely plays a role in that dynamic, and I think these two need to have a reckoning soon.

But as V6 continues, we see Qrow spiral more. He tries to act like the leader but it feels forced. His heart isn’t in this fight anymore because his trust in Ozpin has been shattered. His ability to believe that the war is worth the effort is nullified. He drinks. He doesn’t care what the kids do. He stops really listening to them. This escalates when he tells them all to drop the fight in V6E9. It continues into E10, where he has a moment of panic in that they’ll all be caught and that he shouldn’t have dragged any of them into this fight. He says the state of the world is the fault of the older generation, of Oz and him and every other person who’s been fighting this war. He blames himself for dragging them along. But Ruby says they aren’t his responsibility. They chose this. So did he.

“But we could sure use Qrow Branwen on our side.”

The entire exchange in this episode is wonderful. It shows Qrow’s concern. It shows the team’s doubt. And it shows Ruby’s conviction. I loved her in these scenes because she took command in a way no one else could. Not even her uncle, a man she’d admired her whole life. Who she based her weapon off of, her color scheme. Ruby’s aim here is to reassure her uncle that he means something to this fight. He always has. Because he’s always been an inspiration to her.

Qrow’s recovery isn’t because of Clover, it’s been in the works since V6. Qrow fights Cordovin alongside them. He goes to Atlas with them. He could have, at literally any point, birbed out of there and gone to a bar to drink his sorrows away until his liver died. But he doesn’t. He remains in the fight. Because if there’s one thing we’re learning about Qrow Branwen right now, it’s that he’s never given up. Especially not on family. And, most evidently, he’s never given up on these kids. He might doubt their abilities, dismiss their plans. He might worry over their safety. But, and this is important, he never leaves their sides.

“I feel like they did all the heavy lifting.”

“But you were there to help when they asked for it, and you were there to catch them when the fell. Literally, if I recall.”

Maria, oh Maria, points this out to Qrow when he begins to doubt himself again. There’s a reason she’s here as a voice of wisdom. There’s a reason she was his inspiration. It’s being repeated, again and again, that Qrow has been important to these growing huntsman and huntresses. That he’s done his mentoring and teaching. That he’ll always be that for them. It, in my opinion, is effectively book ended by Clover’s points about how he mattered to the team. Why bring that up if it doesn’t culminate into something? He’s shared a lot with these kids. And they need to do more than lip service that relationship. But the one thing this, almost worryingly, solidifies is that Qrow’s continued arc is connected intrinsically to legacies. His idolization of Maria, his fight with Oz, his blame for the state of the world, Clover’s reassurance that he impacted the team, and, very importantly:

“What good is saving the world without another generation waiting in the wings? Hopefully they’ll leave Remnant better than we left it for them.”

I’ll start with this quote next time too but, for now, the parting shot of Maria and Qrow above that closes out their conversation--this is what made me realize Qrow’s recovery isn’t largely due to Clover. It’s largely due to all of this. And the fact that Maria and Qrow, two mentor figures, are framed side-by-side like this is a testament to the kind of legacies this show is all about. Legacies that are for better or worse. (with worse I’m referencing whatever legacies Cinder is part of with those lines this season)

----

I honestly want to leave this here as like, a peaceful end to this analysis but I have a lot of other things drafted in this breakdown so I’ll continue with them even if they’re a bit disjointed from this one to be...hopefully cemented together cohesively :) Hope this all makes sense and, obviously, that you enjoyed reading it!

#rwby #whew all done that part #qrow branwen #rwby meta #rwby 7 #one day the hiatus will take me but it is not this day...this day i still write

[edharrisdaily]

Ed Harris talks Kodachrome, Westworld and the state of America

Riding high with his killer role in television’s Westworld, Ed Harris continues to bring the flinty characters that have been the hallmark of his career to the stage and the big screen.

Ed Harris has become something of a symbol for the single-minded American man. He’s used his resonant voice and intense blue-eyed gaze to play cowboys and astronauts, soldiers and sheriffs, artists and assassins.

That means he’s worn many hats: a beret as Kristof, the genius reality-television puppetmaster in The Truman Show; helmets – diving ones and space ones – in The Abyss and The Right Stuff respectively. The latter, in which he played Mercury astronaut John Glenn, proved a career breakthrough: a shot of him as Glenn made the cover of Newsweek just as the real Glenn headed into politics.

There have been plenty of Stetsons, too. He wears a big black one as the merciless Man in Black in the television series Westworld. That character could be a distant relative of the black-hatted title character he played in 1987’s Walker, the craziest movie of his career – well, until last year’s Mother! – about the American who appointed himself president of Nicaragua in the 1850s. It lives on in cult infamy.

On the line from New York, Harris laughs at the millinery-oriented overview of his career. “Ha, ha, ha. I just like wearing hats – especially as I don’t have any hair on top of my head.”

In his new film, Kodachrome, he sports a jaunty Panama to play a famous photographer who embarks with his estranged adult son on a road trip from New York to Kansas, to the last laboratory still processing the colour-slide film of the title.

It’s a relatively low-key role for Harris, not least because his prickly character is dying. “It was a great character to play. I had a really good time doing it.”

He is a man who, it must be said, sounds much friendlier than some of the characters he plays. “How are things in New Zealand?” he asks. Good, thanks. How are things in the US? “Good God almighty,” he chuckles. “Pretty pitiful situation, I guess, at the moment, eh? It’s embarrassing.”

At 67, Harris is a man whose career remains on a steady roll. In the past couple of decades, he’s appeared in plenty of big films but also managed to direct two of his own – notably the acclaimed Pollock, a biopic of the abstract artist Jackson Pollock, in which he also played the title role – and spend time treading the boards of Off-Broadway theatres.

When we talk, he and his wife of 35 years, Amy Madigan, are coming to the end of the season of the David Rabe play Good for Otto in New York. They were on stage together in London early last year, too, in Buried Child by the late Sam Shepard, who was also a Right Stuff alumnus. Do husband and wife come as a package?

“We have of late. It’s been really fun, you know.”

Born in New Jersey, Harris was a high-school athlete and football star before he attended Columbia University, and didn’t take up acting until his family shifted to New Mexico. He studied drama at Oklahoma University, then in Los Angeles, where he’s been based ever since.

He met Madigan when they were both cast in the Depression-era film Places in the Heart, starring Sally Field. They’ve since appeared in nine movies together, including Pollock, in which she played art collector Peggy Guggenheim.

The idea for the film was sparked when Harris’ father gave him a copy of a biography of the artist, but it took 10 years for the actor to get it to the screen.

It won him a best-actor Oscar nomination (co-star Marcia Gay Harden lifted the statuette for best supporting actress) and cemented Harris’ reputation as a single-minded tough nut. He famously smashed a chair on set to give Harden’s performance a jolt.

The film took its toll on the Harris-Madigan family finances. “I spent a ton of my own money on that film. You know I didn’t need to, but I had to. So I wouldn’t have changed that for the world.

“I had spent so much time working on developing the script and working on this guy and painting and getting to know people that knew him and getting the rights to his works … I was totally immersed in it. And I didn’t care what I had to do to make the film right.

“I mixed that film twice completely and went to three different composers. I would have done whatever I had to do to get it what I wanted it to be. I didn’t even think about it. I mean, my wife was kind of going ‘Ed, what are you doing?’. But we survived.”

If Pollock was an artistic triumph in step with his challenging stage work, in the movies Harris remains better known as a go-to guy for a voice of authority: in Apollo 13, he was mission controller Gene Kranz (“Failure is not an option”), and he’s played a fair few sheriffs, colonels and generals.

Nasa – the real one – has asked him a few times to perform narration duties on commemorations. He can’t get away from it in the movies, either. When Sandra Bullock’s stranded astronaut calls Houston in Gravity, that’s Harris responding.

“I mean, I am fascinated by space but it’s not something that’s like a major thing in my life.”

Harris’ commanding tones haven’t always been that commanding. “I used to have a really thick Jersey accent when I was going to college,” he says, “and just over the years, you know, part of my craft is to be able to use my voice appropriately for whatever given character.

“And I actually feel really good about the whole vocal stuff in Kodachrome, because it’s lower-register and pretty relaxed.”

The last time he played a dying man on screen – a poet with Aids in The Hours in 2002 – he got the fourth of his four Oscar nominations for it. Playing another one – and another difficult artist – in Kodachrome was harder than it looks.

“He might not be that active but physically it’s really challenging because he’s hurting, he’s aged, he’s frail. His mind is still sharp. Even to play an invalid you have to be in pretty good shape because you have to be able to use your body in a way that allows you do that.”

The film is also a meditation on the cultural change that has come with an increasingly digitised world. So where does Harris, a man who plays a robot-killing cowboy on television, sit on the digital-analogue spectrum?

“I’m a bit of a dinosaur, I’m afraid. You know it’s passing me by big-time. I am decent on the computer and that kind of thing but first of all I really like film films.

“I take a few decent photos I have a great old Leica camera that I actually used in the movie and I’ve taken some pretty good photographs. But I haven’t done much of late. I’ve been toying with the idea of building a little darkroom and getting to shoot some black and white but that’s just in my head at the moment.”

Presumably the photos would go up on the wall chez Harris-Madigan next to the Pollocks he painted in character.

“Well, a couple of friends got some, and one of the things about making that movie was you would shoot what he might be doing on canvas and you see that. But then to save time and canvas they put the camera back on me painting, and I will be painting over stuff that I thought was actually not so bad and just totally f---ing it up. So there wasn’t that much work left that I thought was decent.”

Harris is hoping to direct a psychological thriller based on Kim Zupan’s 2015 book The Ploughmen, about a Montana deputy sheriff and a local serial killer. Until then, Westworld gives him a regular pay cheque and keeps him busy for most of the year. So does figuring out what is going on in the show.

No, he didn’t know the twist about his character – that another regular character in the wild west android theme park was actually the Man in Black too, at a younger age. And that he owns the place. It was all bit of a surprise.

“You never know where they are going to take you. I’ve never worked on something where you find out in episode six something very basic about your character that might have been nice to know in episode one.

“I think they think that it’s going to keep the actors fresh or something. I told them, ‘Well, you know, last year I did 125 performances of Buried Child, and I knew what the script was going to be and what was going to happen with the character, and the 125th performance was just as fresh and alive as the first one. I don’t have a problem understanding and knowing what is going to happen to my character.’ But whatever.”

He’s not complaining. He has steady work in a high-profile show that is kind of a western, a genre he loves. He directed his own very good one, Appaloosa, in 2008. That one featured Viggo Mortensen, Jeremy Irons, Renée Zellweger and no killer robots. In Westworld he’s enjoying being a gun for hire and wearing that hat of his.

“I like putting on my Man in Black outfit. It makes me feel good.”

#ed harris #interview #q

[askdawnandvern]

Tales from the BellHunterverse!

Took me a while to get back into the groove in between the mass influx of commissions, but here it is, the first foray into a project I’d like to call “Tales from the BellHunterVerse”. TftBHV is a sort of compendium project, basically, one banner to post under for one to two chapter short stories involving the characters in my AU. For drabbles involving my first-stringers, like Dawn and Vern, to characters as far out from the main cast as Ulric, Ellie, Moira, and whoever else catches my inspiration. And were kicking things off with a two-part one-shot featuring everyone’s favorite protagonist, Yuri Hunter! (Heavy Sarcasm) Hey relax, Ada’s here too. In fact, this story “Queen of the Dead” is about the night Yuri met Ada. So perhaps it will grab your attention, and leave you wanting a little more. So without further ado...

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

Tales from the BellHunterverse

Presents

Queen of the Dead Pt1

By Wastedtimeee

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Schump...

Screeee...

Cold.

Schump...

Screeee...

Wet.

Schump...

Screeee...

Miserable.

The weather was practically standard fare for those who lived in the bustling coastal city of Seaotter. An expanse of dark, murky clouds loomed over the night skyline, drowning the moon and stars in its abyssal embrace as it released surge after surge of wet ice pellets upon the city below. Despite the fact that it was late April, what Seaotter folk would refer to as 'winter' remained firmly entrenched in the region. Its withering talons dug in deep into the metropolis' soft underbelly as it let out a defiant and territorial roar in the face of the warmer spring weather that had been struggling to get a foothold into the area for weeks. It was certainly a less than ideal night to be on patrol, but to Yuri Hunter, it was simply the bone-chilling whipped cream atop the shit sundae that had been his day so far. And he had barely even started his shift.

Schump...

Screeee...

Yuri let out a tired sigh as he sat in the passenger side of his squad-car, the dark-furred wolf's eyes glazed and unfocused as he stared listlessly out the window to his side. His piercing yellow irises dully tracing the lazy dribbles of water as they crept down the pane of glass, merging and diverging at random until inevitably sinking below the window frame. The faint, dull 'pittering' of stray ice pellets against the window amidst the drops of rain only adding to the wolf's discomfort and irritation. Even though the heat within the car hummed steadily along, it did little to stop the unconscious urge to shudder every so often as the familiar sound tickled the wolf's muscle memory.

Yuri didn't mind the rain, in fact, the wolf had often preferred the overcast and gloomy weather that persisted most of the year. It was one of the things Seaotter was most famous for, and as such the wolf had known what to expect to some degree before settling down in the region. But when winter rolled around, and precipitation danced around the freezing mark without ever quite going over it, it was a different story. Whereas the gloom and cloudiness in summer kept the wolf from melting in his dark, highly heat absorbent fur, the frigid rains of the extended Yule season would punch through his pelt as though it were little more than tissue paper, allowing the biting, frigid, cold to seep deep into his bones. And once he was soaked, there was no amount of willpower he could muster to keep from devolving into little more than a shivering mess. It was indecisive weather like this that often made Yuri miss the more traditional winters he had experienced growing up in the North Meadowlands. Where the snow started falling in late October and didn't let up till early May. Sure, the white, powdery stuff was cold too, and a bitch to shovel, but at least it was easy to brush off of one's coat or fur before it had time to soak in.  

But this momentary wistfulness was rather short-lived, quickly extinguished as the brief memory of his pup-hood home brought his thoughts right back to the call that had set his foul mood for the night.

Schump...

Screeee...

Yuri let out a derisive snort, momentarily fogging the area of the window where his nose was nestled nearest to the glass. The fog hanging there for just a moment before quickly withering away under the heavy assault from the car's heater to once again reveal the faintest glimmer of the wolf's reflection in the glass. The wolf watched his eyebrows furrow tightly as his mind continued to ruminate on the conversation he had with his mother just hours before his shift.

How quickly had the call shifted to talking about his lousy brother this time? Five minutes? No, that was far too generous for his mother, it had to be something closer to two. A minute or so of the usual pretend hemming and hawing from the she-wolf about how concerned she was about him and his 'dangerous' work on the streets of Seaotter, quickly transitioning to his mother's retelling of the recent happenings at the family ranch before Yuri once again found himself squarely in 'Vernon territory'. It made the lead-up conversation feel like nothing more than pointless filler. The feigned interest in Yuri's life along with the droll recounting the latest happenings at the hunter ranch acting as little more than a mere formality in order to get to the topic she was actually enthusiastic about. There were sometimes the wolf just wished his mother would cut to the quick and simply start the conversation by blathering about his wimpy little brother. At least it wouldn't carry as sharp a sting as when the conversation inevitably shifted to Vernon once again. A sting, the wolf hated to admit, that came from a lingering sense of hope that for once the runt wouldn't come up in a conversation. That for once, the call would center squarely around catching up with his mother and father, and nothing beyond that. A pang that no matter how hard the wolf tried to snuff out, seemed to force him to pick up the phone whenever his mother called.

“Vernon this...” Yuri thought to himself, gritting his teeth tightly. “Vernon that...” His muzzle muscles furrowed as the bile continued to rise in his throat. His dear mother had so much to say about her fifth pup Vernon, although Yuri had always preferred to call him 'Vermin' out of spite. Vernon was the runt of their mother's second litter, and the overall smallest out of all seven pups. And to their mother and father, Vernon was considered the families 'golden pup', although they would deny it up and down if you asked them to play favorites. But Yuri knew the truth. After all, Hunter's could 'smell bullshit' according to his father, Dorian. A shared family trait that old law-wolf insisted allowed them to read a mammal's intentions and body language with one-hundred percent accuracy. And while Yuri wasn't sure if 'intuition' actually existed, let alone be carried along through a family gene-pool, he couldn't deny that consistent, uneasy sensation that welled up in his stomach whenever either his father or mother had told him something to the effect of 'We love y'all equally.' It was a hollow sentiment that stank to high heaven of lip service. A way to keep the bickering and jealousy amidst the pups at the hunter household to a minimum. And no matter how many times Yuri heard it, it never sat any better with him.

Since the day he was born, the balance of attention in the hunter household had shifted to little 'Vermin'. Everything he did was worthy of praise, no matter how minuscule. Hell, Yuri was certain he could recall one time their mother Audrey had given old Vermin a little plastic trophy for going an entire week without accidentally pissing on the toilet seat. If it hadn't happened, it may as well have in Yuri's eyes. At the very least it would make for a fine story to tell if he ever needed to paint a proper picture of his brother to another unsuspecting mammal before they were indoctrinated by the rest of the hunter pack into thinking Vermin's shit didn't stink.

Of course, Yuri had done his damnedest to make things 'square' during his time sharing a house with the runt. Native fur burns, wet willies, pinning the wolf to the floor for hours on end, and of course full-on fights when Yuri felt that 'Vermin' was getting a bit too 'uppity' about his place in the pack, at least until his little brother had gotten old enough to put up a good struggle. The longer the fights dragged on, the more likely something in the house was bound to break in the scuffle, which in turn would get both wolves caught and punished on the spot. At that point, Yuri began to rely more heavily on mental tactics. Name-calling, teasing, and liberal use of Native Wolf pack role terminology oftentimes proving more effective than anything Yuri could cook up physically. Just referring to Vernon as an 'Omega', an outcast worthy of disdain and aversion by native wolf standards was often enough to make the runt break into tears, and subsequently take away any of the wind the whelp had stored up in his sails in an instant. Of course, it came with the added bonus that without the busted furniture and bruise marks, Yuri's misdeeds were that much harder to prove, despite hurting Vernon almost as much if not more.

But of course, 'keeping things fair', even when he had grown into more 'quiet tactics', more often than not made him a villain in the eyes of his parents. And while it didn't do much for improving his standings with his mother and father, it at least got their attention on him and away from the runt for the merest of moments. And even if it resulted in getting his fur tanned, a hell of a lot of farm work, or getting sent to his bedroom without dessert, it was worth it to steal just a few moments of attention away from his glory hog of a brother. But it also cemented his role in the family as the designated trouble maker, a title that stuck to him like glue until he finally packed his bags, climbed on his motorcycle, and left the ranch in his dust.

Time changes mammals, it was a sentiment Yuri had always heard but had never really thought about too deeply before leaving his old home behind. But while on his little road trip, and subsequent time in Seaotter studying to be an officer of the law before finally entering the force proper, the wolf had naively started to take stock in the sentiment. The new mammals in his life didn't have the rap sheet that his parents and brothers kept with meticulous detail, they didn't know the wolf by the title as 'trouble maker' bestowed upon him by the other Hunters before he had even met them. And while Yuri would readily admit, his abrasive behavior didn't exactly win over everybody, the wolf got by far better in his new life than he ever had back home. There were mammals here that respected him, even accepted him along with his curmudgeonly ways and rather obscene and blunt sense of humor.

It was enough to give the wolf a sense of hope. A rising belief that maybe, just maybe, if he were capable of changing so much, then maybe his family could have too.

There was a time when phone calls from his mother Audrey were one of the highlights of his day. A time when his brother Vernon only came up in passing, after his mother had done a great deal of prying into his own life away from home before she listed through the ongoing events in the rest of his brother's lives. Finally, it seemed like Vernon's place in the family was no more or less important than his own. And for a while, the wolf began to seriously consider coming home for a visit. It seemed like things had really changed, and that maybe Yuri stood a chance of being absolved of his childhood sins in the eyes of his pack.

He had been a fool. He knew that now. But that didn't make the truth any easier a pill to swallow. Reality eventually came ringing, and when Yuri answered the call he was met with a mean right hook that shattered his foolish delusions.

Vernon had left home and fled to the city, fixated on putting himself through school and becoming some sorta 'artist' type, and from then on that was all his mother could talk about. Every call from home from that point forward Yuri would receive an unwanted info-dump on his much-beloved runt of a brother. About how hard he was working his tail off in Zootopia. about how he had shacked up with that debilitated little billy goat he had befriended from high school and was workin' some crummy fast-food job. All to pay his own way through school to pursue his 'dream'. And with each update from Audrey on Vernon's supposed struggles brought about by striking out on his own, the she-wolf had slipped right back in into laying a disgusting amount of praise on Vernon's 'achievements'.

At least their father was furious over it, and rightfully so. After all, in Dorian's eyes, the Hunter blood ran blue, and for that reason, Yuri and the rest of his brothers had strictly pursued jobs in law or justice-related fields. Even Xavier and Ulric, the former far too weak and limp-wristed and the latter far too squirrely to work a beat in Yuri's eyes, had chosen to work jobs in legal and forensics respectively. But Vernon, of course, had to go against the grain and get their father's hackles up. To turn his snout up at the prospect of protecting others as if it were too good for him and simply turn away from the 'family business'. In a way, it seemed as the Vernon was simply telling his father and brothers that he was 'too good' for the job that wolves were made for. At least, that's how Yuri saw it. And even if his family didn't adhere to the laws and traditions kept by the North Mammalian wolves, the 'Ancient law of the Forest' the wolf had learned in school had had never been a more apt summation of how Vernon's act of familial treason deserved to be treated.

'Now this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky,  And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die. For the strength of the pack is the wolf,  

and the strength of the wolf is the pack. '

It was something Yuri was more than happy to enforce when it came to his brother, but what really surprised him, was his father's own willingness to take up the mantra, even if the older wolf probably didn't see it that way. Still, unlike their mother, he refused to support the runt emotionally or financially, telling Vernon in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to pursue a pipe-dream, he'd be doing it on his own. It was a fair judgment and sentence, that much Yuri would certainly agree on, that was if his mother would ever let him get a word in edgewise over the phone. In fact, it was probably too fair for the whelp. After all, this was classic Vernon being Vernon. If he wasn't getting enough attention, he'd do something over the top and dramatic to get it, and this was just another one of his stunts. Just like his brief bad pup phase in junior high, just another show to maintain relevance among the pack. And Yuri knew how to call it, as he knew he was guilty of his fair share of the same when he lived at home. He may have been a pot calling the kettle black, but at the very least he made peace with the fact that he was aware of it.

  But despite it all, to Audrey their father was simply being stubborn and unfair. That he was acting like their grandfather had treated him when he chose to go into law and so on and so forth. It all blended together in a slurry of pro-Vermin propaganda. And whenever Yuri tried to make a point, or interact with his mother during one of her rants, she would always chastise him.

“Oh, you sound just like your father!” The she-wolf would scold. Or, "Don't talk that way about yer brother!" It was like being home again, despite being a good two-thousand miles away. Sitting there with the phone against his ear as he sat through what felt like hours of his mother's sermon, every objection finding the wolf brow-beaten down by his mother's overwhelming apologist and defensive rebuttals until eventually the wolf completely gave up on speaking altogether. He would simply let her ramble on and on until she tired herself, and then finish off with the obligatory, “I love you, stay safe my little pup.” All the while the wolf would stew, his anger and stress reaching a near boil as he endured each endless venting session with his mouth practically sewn shut. His stomach twisting into tight painful knots he bit his lip to keep from uttering so much as a sound, and all the while his hatred for Vernon to the point where he was certain it was starting to burn and ulcer into his stomach lining.

Schump...

Screeee...

The wolf's ear twitched in irritation as he silently seethed. The chilly, miserable sleet, his parents, his family...'Vermin'. All of it seemed to be piling on more and more in his mind the longer he silently seethed. Under normal circumstances, he should have been able to contain it. To control himself, and keep from letting any pertinent information that might lead to a discussion with his partner about his 'problems' back home.

Schump...

Screeee...

But on top of all of that, the relative silence was frequently, infuriatingly cut through at even intervals by the maddening sound of...

Schump...

Screeee...

“Can't we do anythin' about that damn busted wiper!” The wolf suddenly snapped, his piercing yellow eyes fixing on the offending washer blade in question, staring daggers as it dragged awkwardly across the passenger side of the windshield.

“Ah, he finally speaks...” Came a reply from the driver's seat, followed by a dull chuckle.

Yuri lowered his gaze at the slim, rather nebbish looking buck deer across from him. The scrawny stag pressed his glasses up onto his muzzle slightly as he flashed the wolf a small smirk.

"At first I was sort of enjoying the lack of self-fellating bravado and ego-stroking you'd normally be spouting." The stag rolled his eyes, shaking his head softly in dismissal. "But once it hit the fifteen-minute mark of uncomfortable silence, would you believe I actually started to miss it?"

Lance Eckhart had been Yuri's partner since he had started working on the SOPD, and upon first appearance, the rather small, spindly mule deer looked like the kind of mammal that Yuri would have usually turned his nose up at. His fashion sense, even on the job, gave a false air of sophistication, which was only made worse by the deer's usual manner of speaking. Lance had a nasty habit of lacing almost everything he said with a tinge of condescension. As if every statement, however innocuous, was the buck looking down his muzzle at whoever he was speaking to. Taking it all in at once, it screamed stereotypical 'Seaotter intelligentsia' type. The kind of mammal who buried his muzzle in books and online forums but had about as much street smarts and practical skills as a corn cob.

But when it came to judging a book by its cover, Yuri knew it was far from wise to write a mammal off based solely on outward appearances. And despite how often Lance's attitude and slight sense of smugness managed to get the wolf's hackles up, the stag had proven more than enough times that he was worth his salt when it came to police work. He was dedicated, driven, and when it came right down to it, really cared about the work at paw. And when it came to consoling victims, well, Yuri could admit the stag's bedside manner was far better than his own. It was admirable in Yuri's eyes, which was as close to an admission of respect as Yuri could muster for most mammals.

Unlike Yuri, who only ever wore the 'Seaotter' standard blues, Lance seemed to always dress with an apparent aim to look as much like he was playing the role of private detective as possible. Under his standard-issue bulletproof vest, the stag wore a pin-stripe dress shirt and deep gray clip-on tie. And somewhere under his seemingly over-sized police belt for a mammal of his frame, the buck wore a pair of tight black jeans supported by a clearly unnecessary pair of pale gray suspenders making it appear as though he were trying and failing to ape the long out of style noir film look. Even the glasses that framed his deep brown and speckled muzzle seemed to have chosen more for fashion rather than function, although Lance had never denied that his appearance was at least somewhat important to him. Still, it was a waste of effort in Yuri's eyes, if not for the pointlessness of trying to be stylish, all the work he had put into his choice in clothing was never enough to distract first-timers from his most notable feature, his apparent lack of antlers. Instead, the stag simply had nubs that had been shaven down to about an inch out from his skull.  

It was already the standard policy of the SOPD that if you were a mammal species capable of growing horns in any capacity, that there was a limit as to how long you were allowed to keep them. There were certain exclusions of course, and the limit had been adapted pending several 'civil cases' that had made the organization softer on enforcement, but Lance had seemingly taken the decree one-hundred percent to heart in his choice to have them shaved as close to his skull as he could safely manage. According to the stag, this was to make it easier to get in and out places. It was less of a hassle for the buck, and seeing how his antlers fell out every year regardless of what he did, it seemed pointless to Lance to grow and maintain them at the cost of job performance despite the social importance. Yuri already knew a deer's antlers were a lot like a ram's horns or a fox's tail. The bigger or more ornate the equipment, the more virile and masculine the mammal attached to them appeared. It earned you more respect among your own kind without the need to even utter a single word, and when it came to attracting a mate, a fine pair of antlers acted like a big, bright neon sign above a stags head that spelled out in big, bold letters 'I'm fertile'.

  In some way, the wolf could respect the level of devotion his partner had shown for his work at paw, but had Yuri been in his partner's pelt, he would have wanted to grow his antlers out to be as large as he could get away with, even if they were set to fall out every winter. To the wolf it was more than worth putting up with getting stuck in a few door frames from time to time if it meant eligible, attractive females would form a line just for the chance to get with him.  

The stag gingerly scooped his coffee out of the car's cup holder, taking a small sip before stabbing a finger lazily in the direction of the offending wiper and drawing Yuri's eyes to it as it dragged across the windshield. The blade shaking sharply as the bent arm struggled to make the return trip to the center of the screen.

“Besides, you only have yourself to blame for that malfunctioning wiper you know.” Lance chided. “You were the one who floored it into that suspect, the fact th-.”

“He was pullin' out a gun!” Yuri snapped, gritting his teeth bitterly at the stag.”It was either floor it, or take the chance of gettin' us shot while we was gettin' out of the car to try and catch 'em on foot!”

Lance scoffed, which only stood to annoy the dusky black wolf further.

“You were lucky he actually had a weapon. If he hadn't the Seaotter News Network would have had a field day.” Lance replied, rolling his eyes. “Those hounds are always starving for a good 'police brutality' story.”

Yuri flashed the stag a sneer. “What'd I tell ya about usin' the 'h' word about wolves?”

Lance merely scoffed. “If they act like 'hounds', I will refer to them as such.” The buck scoffed. “It's not like you haven't said worse things, and in-front of actual witnesses no-less.”

Lance simply rolled his eyes as the buck shifted his full attention back to the road.

“And do I need to mention how much extra paperwork we had to do thanks to that little stunt of yours?” The stag added, taking another sip of his coffee.

Yuri scoffed. “Alright, next time I'll let 'em shoot y'all first.” The wolf gestured a paw outward at nothing in particular. “Besides, y'all like paper work, ya told the chief you prefer it.”

The stag rolled his eyes. "I tell the chief what he wants to hear unless it's absolutely necessary." The stag replied, throwing the wolf a side glance. "I'm afraid we can't all be as blunt and tactless as you are my friend."

That earned another snort from the wolf as the buck turned his gaze back to the slick, dark highway road.

“Although, I will admit paperwork is safer.” The buck chuckled.

“Sides', that was a week ago!” Yuri snorted, crossing his arms indignantly. “You should have called it in fer repair by now!"

The stag rolled his eyes. “ I did genius.” Lance shook his head. “ But they won't be able to fix it for at least two weeks.”

“TWO WEEKS?!” Yuri spat, slamming a paw against his armrest. “ Rut me! Are you serious?!” The wolf spat.

“No Yuri, I'm lying with you simply to get under your pelt. I enjoy having not one, but two things constantly screeching in my ears.” The stag with a sarcastic scoff. “Of course I'm serious.”

"The damn greasy lil' rats." Yuri hissed, crossing his arms once more. "What do they do in that garage 'side from sippin' latte's and checkin' their phones all day?" The wolf spat. "Probably only said that cause they're tryin' to piss me off."  

Lance rolled his eyes. “I refer back to my previous point on how 'you've said worse things'.” The buck retorted, earning another irritated scoff from the wolf.

“Seriously, have you ever considered referring to them as 'greasy rats' might be part of the reason they might want to antagonize you?” The stag chuckled, raising his coffee to his muzzle once again as he took a long, slow sip. Drawing the cup back, the deer let out a soft sigh of appreciation before quirking a brow as he regarded his partner.

“And what's wrong with liking lattes?” Lance added.

Yuri let out a dull, exasperated groan in response, slapping a paw over his eyes and dragging it down his face slowly.

“It's on the passenger side.” Lance muttered. “That makes it a 'nonessential' repair.” The stag took another sip of his coffee. “So we're on the back of the line, and that's barring any emergency repairs that may bump us further down the queue.”

“Non-essential” The wolf grumbled mockingly. "Maybe I should head down there and me and them greasy rats can figure out exactly which o' their appendages 'er 'nonessential'.” The wolf hissed, his tone laced with bile and sarcasm.

With a sigh, Yuri slumped deeper into his seat. For a moment, the same cavalcade of soft noises filled the cab. The hum of the heater, the pitter of rain, and the occasional screech of the wiper as the wolf returned to stewing in his own thoughts.

"You haven't touched your coffee you know." The buck piped up, cutting the silence once more as he placed his coffee back in the cup holder. Giving the lid of the taller looking cup a tap with a finger, Lance glanced back at the wolf.

“I imagine it's practically as frigid as that sleet out there by now.”

“Ain't like I need it anyway...” Yuri grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Wolves are nocturnal mammals...” The wolf turned a glaring iris in the direction of the stag, flashing him a tiresome glance. “Or did y'all ferget that?”

The wolf shook his head dismissively. “Hell, why dy'all think I chose to work night shifts, just fer kicks?”

Seeming to get the hint that the wolf was far from being in a talkative mood, the stag slowly turned his attention back to the road, shifting over to another lane of the highway before draping both hooves on the steering wheel. Yuri watched from the corner of his eye as his partner pressed his palms off of the edge wheel, his frame tensing up for a moment as he appeared to be pressing himself more deeply into the driver's seat. He held like that for a few seconds before his body slackened, the buck letting out a long, drawn out breath of air as he settled back into his seat.

For a few moments Yuri had relative silence again, the stag seemingly distracting himself by tapping his hooves idly atop the steering wheel a few times before returning to his default driving posture. The black-furred wolf let out a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed his conversation-ender had more or less worked, and that the wolf was going to get through his shift without the buck trying to pry. At least, that's what he had hoped.  

“You want to talk about it?” Lance suddenly blurted out, glancing back at Yuri from the corner of his eye.

Yuri let out a dull groan, quietly cursing himself as he shifted up more tightly against the passenger side door and away from his partner. He could tell by the glint in the stag's baby blues that Lance had shifted into 'analytical mode' as they seemingly began to scan the wolf for any hint of some form of deeper insight. Not that it mattered, it didn't take a genius to figure out something was on the wolf's mind after his little 'outburst.' Of course Yuri would be so unlucky. After all, having any sort of hope hadn't worked for him yet, so why would it have worked now?

“Talk about what?” Yuri spat bluntly.

Lance lolled his head back slightly, shaking it in what appeared to be mild disbelief.

"Oh come on..." The buck replied with a roll of his eyes. "You only ever get quiet like this; if you'll pardon my paraphrase one of your wolf expressions, 'once in a blue moon.'" Lance said with a smirk.

“Ugh...” Yuri snorted, trying to press himself further into the passenger door to get as much distance between himself and the stags glare as possible. It was a futile effort of course, deep down the wolf knew it. But there was a part of the wolf that couldn't help but cling to the prospect that if he tried hard enough, he might just disappear from the car altogether.

“That was lousy, even fer you.” Yuri hissed quietly.

“Oh please...” Lance scoffed, flicking a dismissive hoof at the wolf. “Like your constant stream of dirty jokes is any better?”

Yuri let out a sharp, derisive snort as he nestled that much more tightly against the door.

“But my point still stands.” The stag continued, turning his full attention back to the road, and away from the shrinking wolf.

"I only ever see you get this quiet and miserable when you either struck out hard with a she-wolf, or your family did something to piss you off." The deer glanced back at the wolf from the corner of his eye, his blue iris seeming to twinkle inquisitively. "So which is it?"

Yuri rolled his eyes, shrinking deeper into his shoulders as he continued his lame attempt to avert the stag's gaze. Despite Yuri's firm promise to himself to simply never, ever discuss his family with any of his coworkers in Seaotter, working closely with one mammal for nearly five years meant that he would slip up from time to time, especially when he was in high spirits. A mention of Xavier's work as a lawyer here, or his mother's delectable pies there. The wolf had left more than enough breadcrumbs that even a mammal that lacked the stag's innate ability to absorb even the slightest snippet of information in order to paint a broader picture would have been able to piece together that the wolf's family life was less than stellar. But Yuri had also made the terrible mistake of letting his guard down around the stag enough to actually confide some degree of information with him. He had allowed the line between co-worker and acquaintance to blur a little too much, and now he was paying the price for his negligence.

The wolf let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

“This ain't a conversation I'm willin' to have right now Lance.” The wolf huffed. “So just step off, alright?”

The buck turned his gaze back to the road, a knowing smirk crossing his muzzle.

“Family, got it.” The buck replied, adjusting his spectacles.

Yuri let out a loud groan, slinking deeper into his seat as he clasped a paw over his eyes.

“Your brother again right?” Lance continued. “The 'idjit' as you call him?”

Yuri parted his fingers slightly, allowing a single eye to peer at the stag just into to catch him gesturing a hoof outward, rolling it lazily.

“Granted when you have talked about them you've called them all idiots at some point so it's hard to tell which one you-.”

“Vernon.” The wolf hissed. “The runt...” The wolf grumbled as he closed his fingers again, casting his eye in darkness.

“Ah...” The buck's tone wavered slightly, telling the wolf that stag's inquisitive nature was starting to give way to unease. If there was one thing Yuri had made clear to the buck when the topic had arisen before, was that while his family in itself was a tense topic, there was one brother in particular that he was never to press the wolf on if he valued his health and well-being, and it was clear that Lance was considering whether or not he was willing to take a chance on exploring the issue.

The cab was silent for a few moments, save for the icy ambiance of the storm outside and the irritating screech of the broken wiper as it dragged back and forth across the windshield.

“I-I understand your brother is a tense subject my friend...” The stag began, his tone somewhat entreating as he spoke, as if pleading for the wolf to hear him out. “ Believe me, I know how terrible brothers can be, what with having two older brothers that constantly-.”

“No you don't.” Yuri hissed quietly. The wolf could feel a warmth starting to swell inside of him as his ire began to flare. “You ain't got no idea.”

“Then talk to me Yuri.” Lance replied pleadingly. “Tell me about it and maybe I can help some-.”

"No." Yuri replied bluntly. "I don't want to." The wolf hissed. He could feel the knot in his gut began to gnarl, the bile in his throat rising again as his mind was screaming for the stag to simply drop the subject rather than force Yuri to shout him down. Dragging his paw away from his eyes, the wolf could see that Lance's attention was almost entirely on him, the buck now leaning slightly over his armrest to regard the crumpled wolf.

Lance tilted his head slightly, offering the wolf a small, but genuine smile.

“Come now...” Lance added, quirking a brow. “ It's not like I'm a gossip, you know I won't tell a soul. All I want to do is help.”

“Y'all are treadin' on some thin ass ice Lance.” Yuri snorted, crossing his arms more tightly this time as he tried to wriggle further up against the door as the blood coursing through his veins neared the boiling point. “Just let it lie, fer both of our sakes.”

With a disheartened sigh, the buck turned his attention back on the highway, the wolf letting out a quiet sigh of his own as the miserable rainy ambiance returned to the vehicle. Even the shrill screech of the warped wiper was a welcome alternative to entertaining such a personal conversation with the stag. Yuri was in no mood for any sort of 'deep discussion' tonight, or any discussion for that matter, not after the day he'd had. At a minimum, he might be able to find it in himself to respond to calls and simple yes or no answers, but anything more than that was certain to wind him up that much further.  

More than anything the wolf wanted to be alone, far away from his partner and job for the rest of the evening. But he was willing to accept returning to the relative silence the cab had previously afforded, even if the squeal of the warped, shuddering wiper continued to cut through it. With enough effort, perhaps the wolf could tune it out.

“Look, if this is about saving face, or some semblance of maintaining bravado I-.”

Yuri let out a loud snarl, turning sharply to face his partner as he bared his teeth.

“By Oldwyn's great grey muzzle!” Yuri snapped, running a paw through his mohawk exasperatedly. “Would y'all just drop it already!? Please!?”

“Okay, okay!” Lance shrunk in his seat, snapping his attention back to the highway as he cowered under the wolf's angry gaze. Yuri stared steadily at the stag, his muscles tense and nostrils flared as he awaited an eventual rebuttal. He knew the deer had a habit of acting like a squirrel with a nut when it came to things like this. He was hard to dissuade, and sometimes even Yuri's brand of fear instilling anger failed to subdue the inquisitive buck. But Lance remained quiet, the stag's eyes focused squarely and unflinchingly on the road, and slowly the satisfaction that the wolf had finally gotten through to him began to settle in.

Yuri's muscles eased slightly, and soon the wolf shifted back into his seat, leaning his head on a paw as he turned his attention back to the rain, the wolf letting out a tired sigh as he tried to lose himself once more in the soft sounds beyond the squad car.

“Well...I'm always open to talk about it if you...uh...change your mind.”

Yuri groaned, drawing his free paw down his face once more. Why the hell didn't this deer know when to shut up?

“I mean, I'm not exactly a therapist but-.”

“I swear to the gods Lance...” Yuri growled lowly. “If you keep followin' this line of questionin', I'm either gonna 'A'...” The wolf held up a paw, sticking out a single finger as he counted it with his other hand. “Push you out of the car, er' 'B'” The wolf stuck up a second digit, grasping it with his other finger as he continued. “Jump out of my side of the car.” The wolf growled.

“Either way, one of us is endin' up in the hospital if you keep this up.” The wolf hissed, craning his head around to face his partner once more as his facial muscles tensed with anger. Yuri's muzzle curled, revealing his teeth and gums as he glared at the stag seated across from him, his ears splaying tightly against his head.

“So. Just. DROP! IT!” Yuri snarled, biting the air with an audible snap that caused the stag to cower in response. If nothing else worked, playing to the stag's subconscious prey instincts was worth a shot.

For a moment, there was a glimmer of real fear in Lance's eyes. It was something the wolf rarely saw. But almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone, the buck's expression quickly shifting into something that seemed to scream to the wolf 'I give up'. Lance let out an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, alright...” The deer murmured, turning his attention to the road. The stag seemed to roll his shoulders as if he were trying to shake away a lingering chill as he leaned closer to the steering wheel. “Another time...”

Yuri rolled his eyes as he slumped against the passenger side door once again, pressing his palm firmly against his cheek.

“Yeah...” The wolf scoffed. “Maybe...”

Soon enough, the familiar ambiance of the cold, miserable night returned to the car. The steady squeal of the wiper now a reprieve compared to fielding the stag's aggressive snooping. Yuri closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind on the sounds alone as he began to take slow, concentrated breaths. Anything to drive his thoughts away from that call. Away from his mother, from Vernon. Even for just a few moments.

“So...” Lance muttered quietly...”You watch Hockey, right?”

Yuri turned, ready to let out another ear-splitting snarl before the nature of Lance's question actually hit him. His furrowed muzzle muscles and brow easing slightly as the wolf slowly closed his mouth. Yuri blinked dumbly for a moment, the wolf silently staring at the buck as Lance's attention remained fixed on the road.  

A small smirk crept across Yuri's muzzle, eventually splitting into a smile that showed off just a hint of his fangs. The wolf let out a dull chuckle.

“I Do?” Yuri had been caught so off guard that the wolf's reply came out sounding more like a question. The wolf shook his head softly, letting out another chuckle. “Do you?”

Lance turned his head slightly, flashing the wolf a smirk of his own. “How about last night's game?”

The wolf crossed his arms, quirking a brow as he regarded the stag's seemingly earnest question. He had never taken the buck for a hockey watcher. After all, the stag's build and tastes always seemed to be the epitome of what Yuri would refer to as a 'heavy reader'. He could imagine that the only time Lance would ever be caught dead with some sort of sports gear in his hooves would be if it was a piece of evidence he was looking over. That perception is why the wolf largely kept quiet in regards to his taste sports aside from an errant comment here and there. To Yuri, what was the point of wasting time talking about a subject that the listener didn't grasp or really care about?

But at the very least the buck presenting him with the opportunity to talk shop was a more palatable alternative to watching rain drizzle down the side window all night long. And Yuri was happy to take him up on it, albeit tentatively. After all, the was still a chance that this would somehow lead back to discussing Yuri's 'problem' somehow. And the wolf wanted to remain vigilant in case some sort of bait and switch was at paw.

“Woolshington Warriors got creamed last night.” Yuri said with a chuckle. “Not that I'm at all surprised. Y'all go up against the Sahara Slashers and yer bound to get mopped across the ice six ways till Sunday.”

Lance flashed the wolf a look of total disbelief.

“Don't tell me you're a Slashers fan?” The stag shook his head dismissively.

Yuri crossed his arms, a proud smirk crossing his muzzle as he glanced back at his partner.

"Die-hard fan since I was a pup thank y'all very much." The wolf's grin widened to reveal his fangs. "They're the best in the entire North Mammalian League and that's a fact!"  

Lance scoffed. “Don't you have any sense of loyalty?” The stag shook his head. “What about your home team? Don't you take any pride in Seaotter?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “First off, I wasn't exactly born here as y'all probably recall.” The wolf replied. “I'm a Zoot pup, so if I should have any sort of preference fer a home team it would be the Meadowland Mashers.”

The wolf shook his head, letting out a dismissive snort. "O'course they're a minor league team, not that it matters." The wolf chuckled. "Them damn grazers couldn't slap-shot their way out of a paper bag."

Lance opened his muzzle to speak, but Yuri cut him off. The wolf was on a roll now, and the conversation was doing wonders to dissolve the knot in his gut.

“And secondly, seems awful dumb to support a team just cause y'all share the same region.” The wolf gestured a paw out at nothing in particular, rolling a wrist as he continued. “You want to win me over? Then show me that y'all can hang with the big dogs.” The wolf chuckled. “Talent and skill are what I look fer in my teams, and them Sahara Slashers got both in spades.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Zootopia has what?” The stag shrugged. “Twelve teams at least? And four of them considered 'Major League' teams? And all that technically representing one city?” The buck continued, gesturing a hoof of his own. “That's excessive at least and unfair at most.” The buck gestured a lazy hoof of his own. “They must have so much talent to snipe from one another at a local level one could call it cheating!” Lance shook his head. “Hell, there should be a rule against having so many teams from one place in the league!”

“How is it cheatin' when most of the other teams suck?” Yuri snapped back. “ I mean the Tundratown Terrors are the closest talent-wise when compared to the Slashers, and they're still leagues below 'em.” The wolf argued. “They just know how to draft 'em in Sahara Square.”

Yuri smirked, giving the buck a playful swat on the shoulder. "And there's a grand defense of yer precious 'Woolshington Warriors." The wolf chuckled. “Zootopia has too many good players!” Yuri's tone shifted into a mocking tone. "That's the only reason we lost!”

Lance snorted. “I'll have you know, the Woolshington Warriors are a solid team.” The stag lolled his head uneasily, biting the corner of his lip. “They just...weren't in top form last night.”

Yuri chuckled. “Mam' those grassbags haven't been in top form since the eighties!” The wolf laughed heartily. “They should just get out of the way and let the Seaotter Shellshockers trade major league status with 'em.” The wolf flashed his partner a bemused grin. “It'd be doin' a mercy fer them and the region.”

Lance chuckled. “If I recall, didn't the Slashers pick up some fox in his forties recently?” The buck rolled his eyes slightly. “I mean, if you want to talk about a team not being in top form since the eighties, you may not want to prop up a team that actually picked up a literal relic from that era.”

“Hey!” Yuri snapped at the buck, furrowing his brow in annoyance. “He's in his thirties, not forties!” The wolf huffed, crossing his arms indignantly. “And If I may point out, at least five of them goals last night were from ol' 'Red Robin' Rowan himself!” The wolf chuckled dully. “He may be the oldest rookie in the game, but the fella's got the skills to back it up, as well as the lineage.”

Lance tilted his head slightly, offering the wolf a dull, half-lidded stare.

“'Red Robin' eh?” The stag asked. “I take it that's the 'lineage' you're referring to?”

Yuri shook his head, letting out a chuckle.

"Well, every damn fox thinks they're related to ol' Sir Robin Hood don't they?" The wolf smirked. "It's the only positive role model they got to cling to, and they ain't never gonna let it go."

That drew a chuckled from Lance, the buck covering his muzzle in clear effort to stifle a  laugh at the off-color statement. The stag's reaction only served to widen Yuri's creeping grin.

“But I meant his actual Pa, ol' 'Red Streak' Rowan who actually played at the tail end of the eighties.” The wolf's chuckling trailing off into a pleasant sigh as he settled more comfortably into his seat. “He was prolly my Pa's favorite player.”

Lance flashed the wolf a smirk before shifting his full attention back to the road, the stag changing lanes to overtake a slower vehicle before shifting back into the fast lane once again.  

The stag shook his head, letting out an amused sigh of his own.

“Well, I will admit.” The buck said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel idly. “ What you said about The Seaotter Shellshockers is true.” The buck lamented. “They do have talent.”

The buck offered an uneasy shrug.“But I mean, deer and sheep are like 'this'.” The buck held up a hand toward the wolf, twisting his fingers around one another as best as he could. “We have sort of a species kinship, so I can't help but feel compelled to favor them over those otters.”

Yuri smirked, letting out a dull chuckle as he pat the buck on his shoulder.

“Hell.” Yuri smirked. “I don't like 'em either.” The wolf shrugged. “But I ain't never cared fer otter folk.”

Lance chuckled, shaking his head dismissively.

“Sure picked the perfect city to live in then.” The buck smirked. “Let alone vow to protect and serve.”

Yuri laughed, the wolf finally scooping his coffee into his paw and bringing it up this his muzzle.

"Sure did." The wolf grinned. "Nothin' makes my day quite like putting the scare into them little spiny toothed bastards." The wolf momentarily pressed the lid of his coffee to his lips, only to draw it back and flash his partner a mock-serious expression. "Only if they are criminals though."

“Uh-huh...” Lance replied, rolling his eyes slightly. “Whatever you tell yourself to help sleep at night.”

With that the wolf took a sharp swing of his coffee, cringing slightly as the now fairly cool liquid slithered down his throat. It was far from pleasant, but at the very least his little conversation with Lance had managed to improve his mood.

Drawing the cup back, the wolf slipped it back into the cup holder, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

“Ugh.” Yuri muttered. “Look's like you was right.” The wolf said with a dull chuckle. “There's no way I'm drinkin' that sludge now.”

Lance flashed the wolf his usual 'know-it-all' expression. A look that under normal circumstances would have gotten under Yuri's pelt in an instant. But the wolf was feeling relaxed enough to let it slide.

“I tend to be.” Lance chuckled.

With a sigh, Yuri placed his paws on his knees, leaning forward slightly to stretch his back.

“Y'know Lance...” The wolf muttered, quirking a brow as he turned his head back toward the buck. “I never really took ya' fer a hockey fan.”

Lance winced slightly, a nervous smirk lacing his features as the stag adjusted his glasses.

“Well...” The buck murmured. “If we're being honest, I'm actually not into hockey at all.”

Yuri scrunched his muzzle in confusion, the wolf's ears drooping slightly.

“What?” The wolf muttered confusedly.

Lance lolled his head from side to side, shifting in his seat uneasily.

“My mate has really gotten into it recently.” The deer chuckled. “She's a real fanatic, practically obsessed with it. And while I've never been able to get into it myself, I've gleaned quite a bit of information from her on the subject.” The stag offered the wolf a smirk. “A good buck at least listens to his doe's interests even if he doesn't share them.”

Yuri blinked dully a few times before shaking his head in disbelief.

“Then what was the point of even talkin' about it iffin' y'all don't really care about the subject!?” The wolf spat.

Lance shrugged.

“I just was trying to make conversation is all.” The buck flashed the wolf a hopeful smile. “I was hoping at least it would perk you up enough to set things back to normal.” The stag chuckled. “Given the choice between your rather 'colorful' commentary and deafening silence, I much prefer the former.”

Yuri furrowed his brow, a slow smile creeping across his muzzle as the wolf let out a dull chuckle. It had been a bait and switch after all, although it was completely innocuous. Apparently, it was all an effort to clear the dense, uncomfortable atmosphere that had built up in the car after his previous faux-pas. It was clever to the point that it should have pissed the wolf off. But the talk had done the wolf good, and for that reason, Yuri could do little more than at most manage a light, playful jab to the stag's shoulder before leaning back into his seat. His smirk widening as Lance tried to play off the need to rub the impact site with his other hoof.  

“I tell ya, if all of that was yer lady talkin'. I'd say she's a keeper” The wolf chuckled, swatting his knee lightly with a paw. “ I'd kill to have a mate like that, even if she was a grazer.”

"Well, when it comes to hockey she can get a little..." The buck tried to stifle a laugh. "Intense."

Yuri chuckled. “So, a real super fan then huh?”

“Understatement.” The buck chuckled, scooping up his coffee and taking a slow sip.

“If she heard you talking that way about her 'Wooly Warriors' she'd probably skin you alive." The buck added, setting his coffee back in its holder.

Yuri's smile grew mischievous, the wolf flashing his fangs.

“Mhh...” Yuri growled slightly. “I do like 'em feisty.”

Lance blurted out something that seemed like a mixture of chuckle and a scoff, resulting into more of a choking laugh as the stag clasped a hoof to his muzzle. “Oh please...”

“Naw, seriously.” The wolf grinned. “What she look like? Y'all got a picture?” Yuri continued, leaning in closer to the small stag. “Ain't right y'all been with this girl fer over a year and y'all ain't never shown yer partner a picture of her before!”

Lance recoiled, swatting the wolf away with a free hoof. “Because you never cared before your 'little officer' decided he might be interested!” The buck scoffed. “And all that fact does is give me even less incentive to show you!” Lance spat, trying to hold back his laughter. “Besides, would you really be willing to take on the stigma of being labeled a 'prey-chaser' on top of your already dubious reputation at the station?”

The wolf shrugged, offering the buck a sly smirk before placing his paws behind his head and leaning back into them.

"Eh, some o' my brothers are already cross-pred dating, why not take it a step further and outdo 'em all?" The wolf chuckled. "It's like that bimbo pop singer's song said....what was the line?" The wolf extended a paw, rolling his wrist as he gestured outward at nothing in particular. "Y'know, that one earworm of a song that was on the radio constantly a few summer's back?"

“You mean Gazelle's 'Try Everything'?" The stag replied, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Yuri snapped his fingers before pointing a claw in his partner's direction vigorously.

"That's the one!" The wolf replied with a scoff. "I'm kinda surprised I couldn't remember it seein' as how it practically drove me to drinkin' from hearin' it so much." Yuri chuckled.

“She's actually a very nice animal.” The buck chided. “Not a 'bimbo' as you would put it.”

The wolf let out a scoff. "Yeah, public interviews are a real great way to gauge a mammal's character." The wolf shook his head dismissively. "And here I thought y'all were smarter than that."

Lance rolled his eyes.

"Still...she's purty damn hot." The wolf muttered. "Grazer or not I wouldn't turn down a night with her." Yuri chuckled as he leaned upon the buck's shoulder. "I'd love to grab onto those horns and ride her like she was my motorcycle!"

“Sweet Cervidwen!” The buck laughed, swatting the wolf back into his seat. “I'm trying to drive here! I don't need that mental image thank you!”

Yuri let out a barking laugh, slapping his knee with a paw "Like you wouldn't do the same iffin' you had the chance!"

“I have a mate!” The stag retorted.

“So you say.” Yuri retorted, crossing his arms as a smug grin crawled across his muzzle. “Yet y'all still won't show me a picture of her.”

“That's because I don't want you drooling all over my phone you absolute horndog!” The stag laughed.

"Hey, I can't help it." The wolf said with a shrug. "First, y'all are tellin' me she loves hockey, then yer willin' to turn down gettin' some Gazelle action over the mate y'all already have? It's got me thinkin' she's a real catch!" The wolf smirked. "With y'all talkin' up yer mate that much y'all got me fixin' to see what venison tastes like!"

“Ugh, stop!” The buck protested.

“Hey!” The wolf was cackling now. “This is what y'all wanted right? You wanted me talkin', so I'm talkin'!”

“Ugh...” The stag's head sunk slightly as he shook it weakly from side to side. “I think I'm starting to miss the silence.”

Yuri let out another loud, barking laugh, the wolf taking a moment to wipe a tear from his eye as his laughter slowly trailed away into a pleasant sigh.

“Still Lance...” The wolf murmured quietly. “I'm real happy for ya.” Yuri admitted. “Sounds like y'all got yerself a solid gal.”

Yuri watched as a warm smile crept across Lance's muzzle, a look of adoration overtaking his features as he stared beyond the road ahead.

“I'm lucky to have her.” Lance cooed. “I really am.”

A jarring, yet familiar crackling chirp suddenly cut through the warm atmosphere in the cab, forcing Yuri's ears to attention as his eyes flicked over to the dashboard radio. From the other end of the line a somewhat unsteady, nervous voice began to speak.

“Uh-uh...?” The voice of the dispatcher trickled through, his tone carrying with it sense of nervous uncertainty. “I-I need the closest available car to attend R-Redmound General Hospital on Scallop Avenue.” The dispatcher croaked weakly.

Yuri glanced at his partner, quirking a brow.

“How close are we?” Yuri asked.

Yuri watched as the buck took a quick glance at the GPS mounted to their dashboard before leaning over the steering wheel in a clear effort to peer through the inky blackness of the cold Seattle night as if to second guess the device. Leaning back into his seat, the buck looked back to Yuri.

“About two minutes probably.” Lance replied, gesturing a hoof at the upcoming overhead sign. “It's the exit after this one.” The stag continued. “I doubt they'll find a car closer than that.”

With a nod, Yuri picked up the receiver, pressing his thumb against the open mic button as he brought it near his muzzle.

“Copy that dispatch.” Yuri replied. “This is squad car one-fifteen.”

The radio crackled for a moment before the same, shaky voice replied.

"Uh...?" Behind the usual feedback noise, the wolf was sure he could hear the frantic flipping of pages from the other end of the signal. The rustling of pages continued, lingering on for several seconds until the same uncertain voice finally piped back up.

"O-one-fifteen?" The dispatch questioned.

Yuri sighed. So much for his good mood. Only a good twenty or so seconds and that hare was already trying his patience. “Officer's Hunter and Eckart.” The wolf shook his head. “For the eight-hundredth time Eustace.”

“Try to be patient with him.” lance whispered quietly. “He's only been on dispatch for a week.”

Yuri flashed his partner a rather bored-looking expression before shifting his attention back to the radio.

"Y'all want to tell us what we're dealin' with here?" Yuri added before releasing the call button.

“Hold on...” The bunny replied, quickly followed by the sound of more papers being ruffled trough.  Every so often the radio would emit a 'clank', followed by what sounded to like a few whispered 'bunny-centric swear words.

“T-ten-sixteen?” The voice finally replied, his tone of uncertainty still heavily evident.

Yuri glanced at his partner once more, the two mammals exchanging a rather dubious glance.

“A domestic disturbance...?” Lance muttered. “At the hospital?”

Yuri scoffed, shaking his head. “That can't be right.” the wolf grumbled.

“I mean, it's not out of the question, I guess...?” The buck replied.

Lance was technically right, but with how uncertain the hare sounded over the radio, coupled with just how rare such an occurrence would be, the wolf was sure the rabbit had simply screwed up. It was the most logical conclusion, but the wolf tried to hold his ire until he could confirm it. With a sigh, Yuri pressed down the call button again.

“Eustace.” The wolf spoke, squeezing the bridge of his muzzle between his thumb and forefinger and drawing it down his muzzle in annoyance. “Is it possible fer y'all to give us a little more detail?”

There was another burst of static mixed with the shrill squeal of some sort of feedback, which caused the wolf to draw back from the radio wincing in pain. It was clear the rabbit had pressed something erroneously, which had messed with the dispatch frequency. Clasping a paw to his ear, Yuri pressed the call button again sharply as the wolf reached his breaking point with the inexperienced hare.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE Y'ALL DOIN' OVER THERE, PRESSIN' BUTTONS JUST TO TRY AND MAKE ME DEAF!?” The wolf barked.

“SORRY, SORRY!” The rabbit pleaded as the radio static returned to normal levels. Once again, pieces of paper could be heard ruffling as Yuri reluctantly drew his paw from his ear.

“Uh...let's see...” The rabbit murmured. “Apparently there's a nurse on staff there who needs to speak to a police officer urgently.” The bunny spoke. “Wouldn't say why...”

Yuri rolled his eyes, his tolerance with Eustace's ineptitude about worn through.

“That's a ten-seventeen you idjit!” Yuri snapped back.

“What?” The rabbit replied.

“Ten-seventeen! Meet complainant!” The wolf spat. “Not a domestic disturbance ya half-wit! Get it together Eustace!”

“I'm sorry!” The dispatcher whimpered. “T-they're right next to each other on the sheet an-!”

“If you don't shape up yer gonna get an officer kilt givin' out the wrong code like that!”

Yuri could hear what sounded like sniffling starting to crop up on the other end of the line. The dispatcher sounding as though he were about to start bawling. Of course, hearing the rabbits burgeoning tears did little to invoke sympathy in the wolf. In fact, it drew just the opposite instinct out of the wolf. The rabbit had painted a target on himself with his incompetence, and Yuri was more than ready to tear into him. But before the wolf could open his mouth, a hoof snatched the microphone out of his paws.

“Calm down Eustace, calm down!” Lance replied, before flashing the wolf a scowl. The buck placed a hoof over the receiver before speaking to the wolf.

“You aren't going to help him adapt to the job by berating him like that you know?” Lance quietly scolded.

“So I should coddle him instead, like everyone else musta done?” The wolf hissed back. “It's unprofessional! Yer supposed to have all that shit memorized by the time y'all leave the academy, and he can't even keep his codes in order!”

“Unprofessional...” The stag scoffed, shaking his head. “You realize that's rich coming from you.”

The wolf scoffed. “At least when I break the rules, I know which ones I'm breakin' backwards and forwards.”

Lance rolled his eyes before pressing the mic button down with his thumb.

“Eustace, please try to get a hold of yourself.” The buck replied. “Officer Hunter and I are two minutes out, so we'll take the call.” The stag shook his head. “But do you have anything else? Any more detail would be appreciated.”

The radio was silent for a moment, a few muffled stray sniffles barely rising over the general noise and feedback before the hare seemed to be able to compose himself to some degree.

“W-What kind of detail?” The rabbit finally replied with a shuddering voice. “I-I mean she was pretty vague...and...uh...hard to understand.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Yuri uttered, quirking a brow at his partner curiously. “I thought the little halfwit said she just wanted to speak to an officer? What was she in a panic er' somethin'?”

Lance gave the wolf a slight shrug before turning on the mic once more.

“I'm sorry Eustace...” The stag replied. “You say she was hard to understand? Was she hysterical?”

“Uh...no.” The hare replied uneasily. “I wouldn't say she sounded like she was freaking out or anything...it's..er...”

Yuri snatched the receiver out of Lance's hoof, the wolf flashing his fangs as he brought the microphone to his muzzle.

“Just spit it out already!” Yuri barked into the receiver, his muzzle furrowing as he snarled. “Clear, concise answers! That's yer damn job so-!”

Lance wrestled the receiver from Yuri's paw, flashing the wolf another dirty look before pressing down the call button.

“Ignore him Eustace.” Lance said. “Just tell us what you can.”

Yuri crossed his arms defiantly, turning his muzzle up and away from the stag seated beside him.

“SHE HAD A THICK ACCENT OKAY!” The hare blurted loudly enough to cause the stag to wince. “I've never heard an accent like that before, so it was really hard to pick out just what she was saying! I'm doing my BEST!” Eustace whimpered.

Once again, Lance shot his partner an irritated glare, earning little more than a derisive snort from the wolf.  

“We know Eustace, we all know.” Lance replied reassuringly. “It's fine, just tell me what you think she said.”

There was silence on the other end of the radio for a moment, the dull hum of noise on the frequency occasionally being interrupted with the sound of pages being ruffled through.

“Okay...she said, and I'm going to read it as best as I could transcribe here...” The hare cleared his throat in an almost dramatic fashion.

“I needs ta speak to some kinda expoirt or detective or sumtin'.” The rabbit began, the accent he was putting on seeming as though it were some kind of exaggerated joke.

“And then.” The hare slipped back into his normal tone with ease. “I asked her what it was in regards to.” Eustace continued. “But she refused to go into detail, telling me something to the effect of...”

“I ain't tellin' use any more den dat! I've had youse guyz write me off more den enough times witout even comin' down to check out da scene!” The hare's voice was practically cracking as he struggled to maintain the bizarre, nearly indiscernible accent. “I figure da only way use guyz will take me seriously is if I show my woik in person!”

Lance and Yuri exchanged a confused glance, with Lance's features expressing a bit of bemusement amidst his rather baffled look.

“Sounds like a prank call to me.” Yuri grumbled.

"Either that, or a cartoon character called into the station..." Lance replied with a chuckle.

"That's all I was able to get out of her unfortunately." Eustace continued. "Although I did do my due diligence and followed up with the hospital to confirm the validity of the call." The hare's tone seemed to grow steadier as he continued to rattle off information, the apparent lack of confidence fading as he apparently found his stride. "And at the very least I was able to confirm with someone else on staff that one of their nurses did call, and assured me that she 'knew what she was talking about.' Whatever that was.” The hare seemed to manage a chuckle.

Lance flashed Yuri a smug smile as if to make a point that the hare's improved demeanor had come solely from the stag handling him like a foal. At least that's what Yuri gleaned from it. But regardless of the bucks intention, the wolf responded with a sneer of disgust.

“Copy that Eustace.” The stag responded. “We'll call in when we arrive at the location, over.”

“Copy that Officer Eckhart.” The hare responded.

With that, the buck holstered the receiver back onto the radio hook, all the while maintaining his smug smile as he placed both hooves back on the steering wheel. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuri could see the buck's own gaze occasionally fix on his, his smile growing each time as he was clearly attempting to goad the wolf into commenting. But Yuri wasn't about to play that game, and the wolf turned in his seat enough to avert the bucks gaze as he turned his attention back to his rain covered window.

“I told you.” Lance finally uttered. Clearly unable to contain the need to prove himself to be right once again in the face of one of Yuri's assessments.

“Ah shut yer muzzle ya runt of a stag.” Yuri hissed quietly.

“I'm just saying Yuri, you catch more flies with honey.” The stag continued.

The wolf straightened his posture, flashing the buck a dull glare as he crossed his arms indignantly.

“I'll make sure to remind you y'all said that when y'all get shot on the job and call in fer back up, only fer Eustace to get ya kilt by givin' out the wrong call code.” The wolf retorted.

Lance scoffed. “Oh please, it-.”

"Although I will admit that all ears no brained idjit makes a better actor than a dispatch officer." The wolf chuckled. "Maybe he shoulda gone to school fer that instead of police work."

Lance shook his head dismissively at the wolf. “Yuri, Eustace is a perfectly capable dispatcher.”

“He's a dang diversity hire is what he is.” Yuri replied.

Lance rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy, tired sigh. “Not this again...”

"What?" The wolf asked, flashing the stag a look of mild surprise. "You tell me with a straight face that rabbit wasn't hired just to make the top brass look good?" Yuri said with a snort. "One uppity bunny in Zootopia makes headlines, and suddenly every city is bendin' over backwards to hire whatever mammal can get them government types the most positive press!" Yuri crossed his arms, turning his muzzle up at the stag. "It's our lives on the line! Not his! So just keep that in mind the next time we got our backs to the wall and he flubs his job!"

Lance shook his head dismissively, flicking on the car's blinker with a hoof as he pulled onto the upcoming off-ramp.

“Can we switch to focusing on the task at hoof?” The stag muttered. “The call?”

"Fine." The wolf huffed, leaning his arm on the passenger side door. Yuri let out a long sigh, the wolf rolling his shoulders for a moment in an effort to shake out the tension the rabbit's incompetence had created in his muscles. It was a shame all the work Lance had done to help dispell the wolf's growing ire and irritation had apparently been for naught thanks to the rabbit. But it was rare the wolf was ever able to truly shake of his anger and annoyance unless he could direct it squarely at someone else. Nothing helped the wolf vent better than simply unloading on the mammal whose idiocy had pissed him off in the first place, but trying to shake it off was better than nothing.  

“So what is yer hot take on the call there genius?” Yuri asked. “Any insight on what it might be about?”

“I have no idea.” Lance replied. “I could barely understand the accent he was trying to imitate.”

"Barx." Yuri replied, tapping a claw to his temple. "That's the closest accent I can figure, albeit it real thick all things considered."

“The Barx?” Lance asked, quirking a brow at the wolf curiously. “As in Zoo York?”

Yuri gave the stag an affirmative nod.

Lance quirked a brow. "First off, how do you know that?" The buck asked."And second, what the hell is someone from the Barx doing working a hospital in Redmound?" The stag continued.

Yuri ran a paw through his mohawk like mane of fur, letting out a soft sigh.

"Okay, first question. I've heard a few mammals talk like that on tee-vee that were shootin' in the Barks. It's a real distinct accent." The wolf replied. "As fer yer second question..." Yuri trailed off for a moment before offering his partner a shrug. "I don't know, what the hell am I doin' workin' here?" The wolf replied with a chuckle. "Sometimes y'all just need to get as far from yer old home as possible." Yuri shrugged. "Maybe that's what this nurse did."

A look crossed Lance's muzzle the wolf didn't like, a flicker of that same inquisitive spark Yuri had seen when the buck had been trying to pry into his family problems just moments before. But it faded quickly, the stag shifting his attention to the upcoming stoplight as he let out a sigh.

“I wonder what she wants?” Lance uttered.

“Whatever it is, she sounds purty adamant about how important it is.” The wolf replied. “And apparently we've ignored calls from her before...”

"If that's to be believed," Lance replied, the buck furrowing his brow slightly as he rolled up to the stop. "You never know with these type of calls."

“Long ears confirmed it with someone else on staff.” Yuri muttered. “I know Redmound general ain't exactly most mammals first choice when it comes to hospitals, but I doubt they've got such a crap staff that they're willin' to lie to a police officer.” The wolf continued. “And fer what reason?”

“If that's how she sounds...” Lance murmured. “ I mean, you said it yourself. It does sound a bit like a prank call.”

"Then I'll tear into 'em." The wolf said with a chuckle. To be honest, Yuri was probably just as uncertain as Lance seemed to be about the validity of the call, even if some other nebulous staff member confirmed it had indeed come from the hospital and considered legitimate. But the wolf was more than happy at the prospect of the call turning out to be little more than a waste of his and his partners time if it meant he got to unload on some dumb nurse who mistakenly called them in for the wrong reason. With Lance denying the wolf his opportunity to shout down Eustace, it would make a great avenue for Yuri to get his anger out.

"Sides', judgin' a mammal by their accent?" The wolf shook his head, dismissively clicking his tongue as he did. "And here I thought you was better than that."

Lance scowled at the wolf, the buck letting out a huff.

"Oh don't give me that." The stag replied, pointing a finger at the wolf accusingly. "You're the one of us who's always using terms like 'grazer' and 'wet rats' to describe mammals, not me!"

Yuri held up a single finger as he narrowed his gaze on the stag by his side.

“One, you used the word 'hounds' not more than five minutes ago, which is a canid slur.” The wolf rebuffed. “Or did y'all ferget?”

Lance let out a scoff in response, turning onto the next street as the stoplight shifted from red to green.

“And two...” The wolf continued, holding up a second finger. “I may judge a mammal by their pelt, but yer always judgin' 'em by the way they talk!”

“I do not!” Lance denied, drawing a laugh from the wolf.

"Please, the first day we got paired up y'all kept 'dumbin' down words fer me cause you thought I was just some country bumpkin who rolled off the turnip truck!" Yuri replied with a chuckle. "Fer the gods sake, y'all asked me if I knew what 'urban' meant!”

“Well, I wasn't rude, unlike you!” The buck retorted.

"Nah, you were condescendin'." Yuri rebutted. "Which is worse." Yuri rolled his eyes, shaking his head dismissively. "Talkin' down to me like I was a damn pup, and you wonder why I was givin' y'all so much shit?"

“Well...I-.”

“And y'all still are just as much of a condescendin' prick as the day we met!” The wolf added with a smug smirk.

"And you are just as much of an asshole as the day we met." Lance replied. "So I'd say we're even, wouldn't you agree?"

Yuri chuckled, flashing the buck a fanged toothed smile as he eased back into his seat, the wolf placing his paws behind his head as he nestled into them comfortably.

“See...that's what I like about y'all Lance.” The wolf said with a satisfied smirk. “Y'all know how to keep up with me.”

The buck let out an exasperated sigh, but Yuri could see the smirk that had crept its way across the bucks muzzle as he turned his attention to the road ahead once again. To Yuri, it was a sign that the wolf's words had hit a mark of truth. That despite all the vitriol and arguments that were admittedly mostly the wolf's own fault, the stag and he had an understanding. The wolf's words were never enough to chase him off, to make Lance up and request a transfer or a new partner no matter how off-color and rude the wolf was. Yuri could be himself around Lance without being demonized for it. And much like the Slasher's, the wolf was respected for his talents just as he begrudgingly respected lance for his own. It was a welcome reminder that his life in Seaotter was his own to make of it what he wanted. And as long as he never returned to his family home, his status as the family 'trouble-maker' would forever be locked away exclusively at the hunter ranch. That as bad as enduring his mothers calls from home had become, it was all he had to endure. The second he hung up, he was back to his own life. His 'real' life. And if the wolf could manage, he would do everything in his power to make sure he never had to go back.

Yuri clasped his paws together, intertwining his fingers as he watched the dull halogen lighting of the 'Redmond General Hospital' come into view, the wolf doing his best to shake off any lingering thoughts of home as he prepared to do his job.  Once again, the time had come for the wolf to show just what he was really made of,  and he wasn't going to let anything drag him down. Not the weather, not his mother, not Vermin. This city, this life, it was all his. And he was going to make the most of it, every damn day he could.

#Zootopia #fanfiction #Assistant Mayor Bellwether #Bellhunterverse #fanfic #Zoosona #Fan Character #Short #Romance #Comedy

[whumpbeans]

Soulmark

So I’m writing this bc when I was a young bean I was told that if I didn’t get married at 16 I was worthless, and then when I graduated high school I was degraded by my nuclear family so this piece contains some of that good venting hurt lmao. Also be gentle, I’m not a good writer and this isn’t edited lol.

Tw: suicide attempt, bullying, suicidal thoughts, near character death

Characters: lance centric angst, Keith, hunk, Pidge, Coran, Shiro, Allura (eventually), axca

Part one

He stood on the edge of a ten story building. The cold night wind sent a shiver up his spine. The hair on his arms stood up. He lifted a foot in front of him. He tested the gravity. No solid ground touched his foot. His heart pounded in his chest.

His foot firmly planted back on the ledge. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

His head pounded. He looked up at the sky. The stars obscured by city lights. Lance’s knees wobbled under him and he almost fell forward. He managed to stabilize himself and took a step down from the ledge.

This time he opted to sit on it instead. His feet dangled limblessly. He closed his eyes tightly and tilted his head back. His fingers gripped the ledge. He scooted himself closer to the edge. He let out a shaky breath. A wave of pain crossed through his chest. Something heavy and cold weighed his heart-or what used to be his heart.

“Soul-bonds, huh?” Lance chucked a crumpled piece of cement onto the pavement. Most people in the world were born with odd marks somewhere on their bodies. Once their destined touched them, the mark grows into a bigger tattoo. Lance stared at where his clean, unmarked flesh sat. His soulmark never existed. Likely his destined died in childbirth. Lance never even got the chance to meet them. “Fuck…” his voice choked. Hot tears slid down his cheeks.

“What’s the use of a soul if it’s incomplete?” His mother said this to his abuelita over the phone. She didn’t know he heard her.

“But it’s true,” Lance whispered to himself. He sighed. No point. “To be fair I never had a point here.” He chuckled, but his throat grew tight and hot. He coughed.

“I heard people lose their soulmates when they whore themselves out.,” his uncle glared at Lance. Lance was seven when he heard that. He shook his head.

“He’s broken, don’t touch him,” a woman grabbed one of his classmates arms and pulled him away from Lance.

“Broken,” Lance repeated numbly.

His eyes felt wet and burned. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He opened up his eyes and stared ahead. The shadows of tall buildings covered his frame from detection of any passerby in the street below. He took a deep breath and stood to his feet again. Another deep breath. He glanced behind himself. His neon blue sneakers sat propped on the base of the ledge. Lance’s eyes returned ahead of himself. Another deep breath.

Lance took a step forward. His eyes stared at the street. Time seemed to slow down. His body weight inched closer to the pavement. All the blood in his body rushed into his ears. It filled his head. He felt light.

His heart pounded rapidly in his chest. He closed his eyes. Lance waited for impact.

Except there was none.

Except someone held onto his hips. Strong arms wrapped tightly around him. His body half dangled over the ledge. The person who held him grunted. He pulled Lance back. Lance didn’t fight it. Instead he leaned his body backwards which allowed the guy to not fall over the ledge with him.

Lance fell backwards and onto the person who held onto him. He grunted. A sharp jab pressed against Lance’s ribs. Lance yelped and rolled off of the guy. He glared at the guy. His eyes immediately softened at the familiar face.

“Fuck me,” Lance groaned.

Keith-fucking-Kogane saved him. The most emo and well liked student amongst the garrison. He practically followed through Shiros, the school’s original top dog before he went MIA, footsteps. Why was he even here? Lance scattered to his feet and backed up. His back hit the wall of the ledge. Keith sat up quickly. His eyes wide. He quickly jumped onto Lance as if Lance would immediately try to jump off of the building. Lance struggled with Keith sitting on his hips. He tried to buck Keith off. Keith kept him pinned down.

Lance thrashed his head back and forth.

“Listen to me-hey!” Keith yelled at him. “Snap out of it!”

Lance tried to move his arms from under Keith’s grip. He Threw his head back and forth again. Keith wrapped his arms then around Lance’s torso. His body now supported by Keith. Lance froze.

Fat tears rolled down Lance’s cheeks. He buried his head into Keith’s shoulder. Sobs wracked his body. His hands clutched Keith’s stupid cropped jacket.

______________________________________________________

Lance was sure Keith didn’t recognize him when they got blasted into space. By the way he acted, Keith either could win a grammy with his acting performance or he didn’t recognize Lance. He felt pretty certain of the latter.

Now the team stood on an alien planet. They tried to recon with the planet but the planet was ambushed by galra.

Lance leaned his head back. His heart pounded in his chest. Blasters sounded off in the distance. He heard the familiar sound of a lion taking to the air. Now if he could just get to red…

“Get to your lions! We need to form voltron!” Keith commanded over the comms.

Galran soldiers yelled off directions. They stomped closer to where Lance hid. He readied his bayard. He took a deep breath in. He aimed. He shot down a soldier. He exhaled. The Galra turned towards Lance’s direction.

Lance took that as his cue to run like hell. He turned around and ran straight into someone. He quickly backed up, but his weapon got knocked out of his hand. Lotor’s squad. The big hunk of galran meat, Zethrid, grinned at him. Her murderous eyes filled with mirth.

“Can we do this another day, I gotta plane to catch,” Lances voice shook.

She grabbed his arm and threw him against the back of a tree like plant. He gasped.

“Lance! We don’t have time to joke around!” Pidge grunted through the comms.

Zethrid threw a punch at Lance. Lance ducked. He side-rolled. Lance ran forward. Zethrid grabbed his ankle and swung him into the ground. All the air in his body left him. She punched his chest plate. Lance choked.

He struggled against Zethrid, but she pinned him.

“Guys?!” he struggled to say into the comms, “I got trouble!”

The comms buzzed. “Lance, what’s your position?” Keith asked.

Zethrid raised her arm. Lance’s eyes widened. “I-”

She threw her hand down. The impact of her hand against Lance’s helmet cracked it. His head slammed against the ground. He felt dizzy. His eyesight blurred.

He could hear the comms buzz, but the sound they made didn’t make sense. Zethrid filled his vision again. She held up her hand again. Another punch. Lance felt the impact. His jaw ached. His eyes burned.

A neon blue colored bird landed in front of him. It bounced around and then took off. And with the bird, so did his consciousness.

Warmth spread through him. It dripped from his head and through his body.

Something pressed his shoulder. Something shook him. Lance lazily opened his eyes.

A purple galra shoved a clay cup into his face. Lance took it. He stared at the cup. His head dizzy and thoughts constantly derailed. He took a sip of the water. The water held no taste. Satisfied, the guard left. A cell locked in front of him.

Across from Lance sat another empty cell. Both areas purple and dark. Lance shivered. A cold draft passed through the cells. His head throbbed. Lance squeezed his eyes shut.

What happened? “Prisoner,” Lance’s eyes snapped open. He got taken. He looked down at himself. He wore nothing but a pair of scratchy, brown colored cloth pants.

“You’re up,” said a shrill voice.

Lance shivered.

His cell door squeaked open. A pair of sentries and a druid came in and cuffed him. They placed a magenta colored collar around his neck that attached to a similar colored leash. The druid held the leash behind Lance.

Lance’s heart pounded in his chest. He swallowed thickly. The robots lead him into an off room adjacent to the prison cells. In the room sat a large lab. Many large tubes filled with strange purple and silver colored liquid stationed around the lab. A large dissection table with straps attached. Off of the center stood something that looked like a pillory.

The druid yanked his leash. It sent electricity through the leash and onto Lance. Lance yelped. He quickly matched his pace to the druid. It lead him to the pillory. Lance felt shame burn his cheeks as they locked his head into place.

“Blue paladin,” the druid almost sang. “I have been given permission to test you in the most lethal ways, how wonderful!” The druid drifted towards one of the control panels. It picked up an item sitting on it. The druid levitated back to Lance. It displayed a long whip at Lance. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Fear gripped Lance’s stomach. “He-hey! I’m not really into this stuff,” he stuttered, “Maybe we should, um, do something else?” His voice became shrill. The druid disappeared from his vision.

The first strike always hurt the worst. Lance squeezed his eyes shut.

“These freaks deserve worse,” Charlie Diaz rose his stick up again. He slammed it against Lance’s back. Lance screamed. He couldn’t fight back. Charlie was much bigger than him being a fourth grader while Lance barely stood a chance at seven years old.

The second strike snapped against his back. He felt blood trickle down his shoulder.

A hand wrapped around his throat. “This is wha’ ya get!” His uncle slurred. “Soulmateless...ha! You’re a sorry excuse of a life.”

Tears burned Lance’s eyes, but he held them back. He’s been through worse. Another snap of the whip. Lance’s knees wobbled. After another hit, his knees gave out. He barely held on using his ankles to support himself in an awkward squatted position. His body weight now half leaning against the pillory.

Several more whips attacked Lance’s skin.

“Lo siento, mijo,” his mother kissed his forehead. “No tienes una media naranja.”

Lance didn’t really understand her words. Soulmates were for parents anyways, and he didn’t need an icky partner. They had cooties anyways. “No la necesito,” he whispered. He looked into his mother’s eyes. The whites of her pupil red and wet. Her cheeks flushed. She hugged him.

The pillory’s lock snapped open. Lance fell to the ground. His back ached. His limbs too heavy to move. The druid yanked on his leash. The zap of electricity brought to life his jelly-like limbs.

Lance stood up and followed the druid. It lead him next to the table. He laid onto his back. He yelped from the pressure on the lashes that covered his back. The druid strapped him in. It tied Lance’s leash to a pole attached to the side of the bed across from his head.

The druid then returned to one of the control panels. Lance took several deep breaths. It came back with a syringe filled with some strange neon blue colored liquid in it. Lance glared at the syringe. The druid slapped his arm a few time. It then held his elbow steady and injected the serum.

The prick distracted Lance briefly from the pain in his back. A familiar heavy feeling sank in his chest. The serum took full effect. The druid unlatched Lance from his restraints. It didn’t undo the leash from the pole. Lance cautiously sat up. Fatigue crawled through him. The druid levitated to a high vantage point.

Lance sat against the table. His head felt dizzy. His back hurt. His chest felt empty. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head against them. His heartbeat slowed. He swallowed back a sob and bit his lip.

He blinked hard. He wanted to...he shook his head. Not now, Lance ordered himself.

The blood on his back trickled. Unable to keep clotting. Lance let out a trembled sigh. He laid on his side. His eyesight blurry. He heard the druid levitate closer to him.

#langst #fanfiction #langst fanfiction #vld whump #lance vld