if cartoons were real

3

If anyone wants to know what I’ve been up to all day, I’ve been playing around with a story about Anubis as a broke college graduate in modern-day Cairo, with foreign-sponsored Set running for president in the backdrop. Nobody knows Anubis is Anubis or even that something’s off about him except for Sumayyah (glasses girl), who’s a mythology enthusiast but is often mistaken as having a crush on Anubis each time she tries to track and expose him. Rabia, the old lady, manages the apartment area they both live in–however, she really just wants to become a famous singer. If this were a real cartoon, she’d be providing most of the musical sequences, lolol.  

Parallel Universe | Baekhyun (ft. EXO)

Originally posted by dearbyun

Genre: Sci-Fi ; Confusion?

Description: In your world they were cartoons, handsomely animated pictures created with the sole intent of entertainment. But when a dream seems to be more than just that you might actually consider a parallel universe. One where they are real. One where you are, too. 

Word Count: 3600

Author’s Note: Couldn’t keep my mind off the idea behind their parallel universe and their MV because it’s aRT. anyone can fight me on that so the scenario is pretty much entirely based on it lol,, aLSO because Baekhyun (and EXO,really) is my muse. I need help. anyways,, as always, 
e n j o y *^*


“To your left!”

“Your other left, dummy.“

Bubbly flashes of colors chased each other across the screen— miniature explosion and laser beams in vibrant pinks and blues. It was certainly cute, the oddity of it, though you couldn’t deny it was loud. Oh, and, more than anything else, it wasn’t real.

“Oh no, Xiu!”

Quit that yelling!”

There was a hiss. The girls whirled their heads around, lips quivering both in anger and fear. It wasn’t new to you—how upset they became when interrupted in the middle of their favorite show, but you simply stared. It wasn’t necessary for you to get into trouble, not today.

“I really ought to take that darned remote out of your hands, little rats. Otherwise that bullshit will surely make me sick,” Kyungil spat with a not so lovely expression. Oh how you wanted to smack the smugness out of him.

“You are the one that will make me sick if you don’t cut that blabbering,” you declared, propping your head over the palm of your hand. “It’s tiring.”

The children, both tiny girls in pigtails and plaits drapped in way too beaten clothes, giggled up at you, earning them a venomous glare.

“And may I know when were you appointed supervisor? Is this perhaps your house to have the right to complain, (Y/N)?”

He waited for your answer patiently with the sickening nature of a predator stalking over its prey, a decisive smirk stretched wide across sharp features. You withheld any witty commentary, any curse you wished to throw at him because he was simply right.

“That’s what I thought,” he said in that voice you knew ever upon arriving on the orphanage and learning, the hard way, who was in charge.

And literally. He may be a mere couple of years older than you and parentless but plenty of times he received privilege over any of you.

“Now lower your goddamned voices if you know what’s good for you,” he proclaimed aggressively.

Most of the times they were just threats so no one, really, felt complied to listen. His jaw was set in an instant and you knew what would follow—a stream of uncalled-for observations and asshole-ness. Your eyes rolled to the pages of the book resting on your lap and he began, “And what kind of shit-show is one where the supposed heroes are covered in glittery shit and don’t know how to use a bloody weapon.” 

The girl in pigtails, Somi, gasped horrified, “They’re not lame! And they don’t know how to use them because they don’t need them, THEY HAVE POWERS!” 

“The power of being completely worthless, yes.” Kyungil’s lips where a repulsive grin. “Reminds me of someone.” 

“My, you must’ve spent some time glancing at the mirror, then” you gave your finger a small lick to turn the page, inconspicuous. 

“Oh gosh, Chen!” Umji, in plaits, screamed—somehow a shield from whatever Kyungil was about to say next.

“So they’re only seven?” 

You’d almost forgotten he was there too, the new kiddo from three rooms ago yours. With Elle on his lap, he had remained quiet until now.

“They’re nine, actually,” said Somi matter-of-factly.

“Excluding the three mages that aid them occasionally,” Umji added with a gesture of her hands.

Somi nodded vigorously, “There’s the healer, Lay, who’s been missing since episode 2638 and—”

You shut them down, their voices, and your eyes fluttered closed. The book acted as an anchor, binding you to wherever your fingers brushed its thinner than paper pages. You felt tired, suddenly—inexpleinably weary to the bone. You shuddered to the echo of voices disintegrating midair, not quite reaching you. In fact, they completely seemed to have disappeared…

Until there was a mewl. Elle, you thought, it had to be.
You opened your eyes—or so you imagined.

You could see nothing, hear nothing. You felt lightheaded; you felt light on its own, in both possible senses. 

A hot white light, then, assaulted your eyes and there was a noise of misconnection, like that of a life line falling death. You pressed against your ears hoping that the sound would go away. There was a slight wobble to your shape as it faltered and then there was nothing.

Nothing, that is, until, finally, your eyes opened.

They shook a little from the brightness of it all and you brought your hands down, prompting a burst of noise in to the insides of your eardrum.

It looked inhumanly real, this dream. Because it ought to be a dream, right? This planet, a parallel universe of, well, surreality and everything that could not be true. And yet…

“Sehun, learn how to shoot a gun before doing it, for fuck’s sake.”

And yet here it was. 

“Well, maybe you should learn to find a better cover than that.”

“Son of a—”

No. You pinched yourself repeatedly on the cheeks, you couldn’t allow yourself to become so delusional. This was definitely a dream. This— EXO could not be real; they were cartoons, animations created by actual people. 

Though you had to give yourself some credits. To dream of such detailed realm with such good-looking men that coincidentally resemble those cartoons Somi and Umji showed great infatuation about: You patted yourself in the back for that. 

There was an explosion and you whirled on your feet. A shower of fire and waltzing sparkles; it was beautiful. Wow, you’ve outdone yourself, mind of mine. You glanced upwards from where the rain of flames fell, disappointed as it was a bit of a distance from you, where you wouldn’t get much of a spectacle. A spark flew by and struck your cheek—and you gave a small scream, trashing your arms around.

What in the world…why did it burn? You rubbed savagely at your face and there was a second boom. 

“Nice shot, Kai!”

“Hush and get to work.”

“Yes, Kai!”

Debris jumped and dived in all around you. You took it as your signal to run.
“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you came to the remains of whichever structure had once stood in place, breathing heavily. From there, you peeked through a mist of dust and ashes—a group of handsomely six shooting indiscriminately at whatever the fuck that was

Your heart pounded in your chest in a way that frightened you as you felt it might leap out from within you at any second. Leap and run and hide and, hey, maybe you should do that. 

“Do it while those ninjas fight that thing,” you nodded to yourself. Still, you barely felt like running with blood drumming up and down your head in waves of drowsiness.

It was almost blinding and deafening—but you heard it. A curt mew.

Elle, have you been dragged into this, too? Your eyes caught a flash of white—undoubtedly Elle despite her being unusually spotless clean. 

Either way, you had to get the cat. Because, why the fuck not? Better risk it all.
With a glance at the petulant machine you began your steps, hoping it wouldn’t notice—or they for that matter. 

You were well on the clear already, and looking for the cat, when it zoomed it on you with the velocity of a bullet. Well, it was a bullet. It almost didn’t miss your brains and you stood wide eyed before whirling around with a scowl. 

And Sehun was looking right back at you, eyes upon his—admittedly terrible—line of sight through which the bullet had traveled. 

His lips failed miserably in an attempt to formulate words and you realized he had just seen you. Seen you.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself either. You were about to tap your lips with your fingers, in a manner as to ask him of his confidentiality, when the monstrous metal of a creature made some incomprehensible gurgling noises through gritted shards of teeth and you gasped.

The machine had cornered them defenseless, claw holding onto a weird looking sphere that appeared to contain a blue storm within. You took a step forward, not truly knowing why, when a seventh figure danced its way in brandishing a bizarre artifact. Not that anything, really, could make the situation any more bizarre.

The guy jumped and the breeze caught the blonde of his hair and dazzling mischief of his smile. Chen, the name dawned on you in a dash. 

The artifact seemed to repel the attack and mirror it, striking home. The machine shook uncontrollably, pieces of which where thrown savagely here and there. You yelped and ran for cover behind a massive piece of broken wall that had been lying about (how convenient).

You breathed with a bit of a difficulty—of course you’d be frightened, one of those big chunks of metal flesh could hit you at any minute and if it did then—

A smoke-like gas suddenly rose from beneath you, more like a dark steam or ashes, and you shrieked, jumping back and onto the ground. A man materialized before you before you could touch the ground and he stared at you. He opened his mouth but the words that came were not his:

“Who are you?" 

You looked up immediately, startled by the voice, deep and close, and hit your head, inconveniently, against the wall. "Ah, motherfu—”

“Hey, what do we have here?” Another voice came from behind the bricks—this one soft and light—before a figure made itself next to the man with bangs of dark silk. “Wait. Who is this, Kai?”

“That’s what I’ve been meaning to know,” Kai looked at you, his dark gaze stark and locked with yours. 

You stood up in a hurry, putting some distance between you. The least you wanted was for them to think you’d come looking for a fight, after what they’d manage to do with that thing. “I’m (Y/N), I—”

“How did you get here?” The guy with the wild blue hair demanded, though not sounding bestial, and his left eye flared an incandescent red. 

“Chanyeol,” the man that had arrived after them all reproached the younger one—you remembered him as Suho, the leader. He continued, “Don’t frighten her.”

“I’m not,” you said, your voice clearer than you would have expected, and their eyes were on you, suddenly. And you might have felt a bit frightened then—by their legitimacy. “And I’m not the one here. That’s you, right?” You paused, waiting for them to finally validate your theory. They merely stared. “You are in my dream.”

Chanyeol looked at you with an intensity that made you feel as if your bones were about to melt. Finally, he said in a very low voice, an endeavor of a whisper, “Hyung. I think this girl is crazy.”

“Chanyeol,” Suho gave a low hiss before looking at you with clear sympathy. “Dear, you’ve been through quite a shock, haven’t you? Come." 

He extended his hand towards you and you hesitated. The flesh of his was white and very detailed, startlingly so. Yet it had to be a dream.

You took it, finding it the sole option at hand to carry on with it until waking up. His hand was warm and there was a delicate clarity to his eyes when he smiled, like water. He willed you forward and you followed him around and in between discarded shreds of iron and metal and dust, and a still standing machine with closed eyes, Kai and Chanyeol following suit.

"You!” A yell, and someone pointing his gun at you. “I almost shot you!”

“And you will again if you don’t lower the gun, Sehun,” Suho’s endeavors at sounding calmed almost made you want to laugh.

“But you moved, so I didn’t,” Sehun pointed out, his gun discarded aside. “Yet how—”

“Oh, a girl?” Chen came up to the lot of you, with a curious glance and furrowed brows.

You coughed, “So I’ve been told.”

Chanyeol snorted in uncontrollable laughter, his hands clapping like a seal and everyone backed a step away from him. You weren’t entirely sure why until you saw he’d found his closest subject, Kai, whom he smacked away with no remorse. 

“That was rude,” a guy with peculiarly shaped lips—ah, that was definitely D.O—said and, then, offered you a smile. “My name’s Kyungsoo.”

“I thought you were called D.O?” The question escaped pass your lips without even being registered by you.

He frowned, “Some call me that, yeah. But, how do you know?" 

You were interrupted by another voice, "And how did you come to be here?" 

It came from a man with the pretty eyes of a cat and you started, remembering suddenly, "My cat. I was looking for my cat when I— I was here after that.”

The man hummed to himself, “So you fell down the rabbit-hole while looking for the rabbit—is your name Alice too?" 

You fought for a response, far too overwhelmed to even think (for they looked unbearably alike those characters from that stupid show).

Once again, Chanyeol chuckled—you’d come to realize it was such a Chanyeol thing to do. "You know, that’s something Baek would say." 

There was a keen silence before Kyungsoo spoke, "We will find him. He couldn’t have gone too far. We need him, and he knows that. More so when Lay—”

He was stopped mid-sentence by a hubbub of noises. Some of which included the particular noise of a button, as if from a machine, being toyed with; the grumbling of a stomach and an apologetic Kai; the mewl of a kitten; and the reestablishing buzz of wiring. 

The group tore their eyes toward the piece of metal—now no more than obsolete and morphed shapeless nothing—that had begun to rouse. 

“Shit,” Sehun said, worrying at his lip.
“Language,” Suho muttered, before turning to you with concern. “Kai, take her somewhere safe. I trust your return to be prompt." 

Kai winked, taking your hand. "You got it.” And the two of you were running. Kai half dragging you across the field as you struggled to breathe.

“I think you inhaled some dust,” he suggested, stopping for a second—really, you weren’t so far from the group; in fact, not at all. Not to mention it seemed as if the creature had only shed it’s metallic flesh, the remains of its iron-wrought composition standing tall. 

“You don’t say,” you tried to sound snappy yet he laughed anyway. Truthfully, it wasn’t the only factor, you really just weren’t good at any endeavors at physical activity, not one bit. 

You looked down for what would have been the tenth of a second when you saw a tail. Pure white and radiant in the distance. Elle.

“Elle!”

“What—wait!” Kai’s muffled screams after you did little to stop you as you stumbled across the clearing with renewed energies. Either way, he would have had to leave to help the others and you didn’t wish to take any more time from him than needed.

“Elle,” you whispered her name. At least the cat was somehow obedient and did show some spontaneous affection, right? “Elle—" 

There was a gruesome noise and you whirled around to a dance of starlight that took your breath away. There was a haze of dust and a mist of ashes yet the tang of salt water was firm in the air. The scent of soil and minerals clung to the atmosphere and there was thunder and fragile diamond crystals of ice.

But over it all, there was light. A light, blinding and remote. As if from the sky itself—the moon and everything it held. 

The machine seemed to be doomed, talking intangible gibberish. And it twirled and twirled on itself and shards of iron flew loose akin mechanical bird-like creatures. 

And someone was shouting your name. 

"Get out, (Y/N)! Run!”

You glanced at the guys flailing around exasperated and you suddenly stumbled and fell.

No, you didn’t stumble, there had been a push. Heavy and rigid, on your side and above.

You struck the ground with a not so terrible force that still manage to knock off the air from within your lungs. You gasped, eyes closed in blurred lines of pain.
Yet there was warmth in the arms that held you so tenderly. Your eyes opened slowly, with some effort, your eyelids were heavy with weariness. You didn’t realize how tired you were. But how could, when you were asleep?

And you were asleep, because he couldn’t be more than a dream.

His eyes examined you with caution, checking for injuries. His blue eyes, traveling here and there, were light touches themselves, and you shivered, though you preferred to think it was from the cold. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, and his voice—you wouldn’t believe your mind, in this dream, could reproduce, conjure up the beauty and intricacy of it. 

About to respond, your breath caught. His hand was on your cheek, cupping its roundness. His touch meticulously delicate. You felt a slight sting where his thumb remained and wondered.

“You’ve burned yourself,” he said, looking concerned and his eyes seemed to hold a sort of lost wistfulness in them. 

Have I? It couldn't—the sparks of fire, that couldn’t be it, it was impossible. But how was it that it stung now, as it did before, and as your head did when it bumped against the wall. 

“No—”

Your watched the image of him as if from a distance, your vision a blur.
It was a blur as the screaming echoes—echoes of your name and his, Baekhyun, for it had to be his and his only—dissolved, as they shattered along with the image above you. 

His–Baekhyun’s eyes were to something behind him—oddly, you longed to see the blue in them a second time. It couldn’t be conceived. He turned to you and buried your face within the crook of his neck so rapidly that you hardly had time at all to see his expression. 

You battled a little, and managed to gain access to the spot above his shoulder, in between his tangle of arms around you. And your eyes widened. 

You saw as the creature broke down into a conflagration, so wide and high you could not see the others, almost as if they hadn’t been there at all. You heard how it rattled and croaked above you, shutting down. 

Not before its eyes turned a sickening red at last, a bloody gaze on yours and something beeped as liquid oozed from within. 

Baekhyun’s arms tightened against you at the noise, willing your body completely under his. And you understood. Understood with the final burst of flames that he was protecting you. 

You shivered. And, you asked yourself, was it possible to shiver while you burned? You trembled slightly, struggling to move, yet there was no weight upon you anymore

You felt sick. Ah, there it was. The flames. Like hot needless, you felt as if incisions were being made into your skin, puncturing evey plane and crevice of your body. You faltered terribly and you believed you’d begun to vanish—melted away in all the flesh and bones and yet you felt a horrid coldness all the same.

But then your eyes opened.

Your eyes opened and there were letters—a book sitting on your lap and the subdued voices of people. The two girls, Somi and Umji… they remained the way you’d left them in—but had you truly ever left? 

“I…”
You slapped your hands to your mouth. Your voice, it had just sounded like an echo. As if from a distance it had returned and reverberated ever so loud in your head. 

You brought one hand down, leaving the other to remain on your cheek, when you felt it. The sting of the smallest wound made by a spark of fire. 

"Well, that was nice.”

“Yeah, it was awesome, I can’t wait for the next one!" 

And their voices sounded as if from a distance too. More as if from within a water well or a pond, locked into itself, forbidding your entrance to it. 

The girls stood, their way towards you. Your lips parted in a manner of unaccomplished speech and your eyes widened. Umji reached down for something by your side—the remote, you recognized belatedly as she clicked the television shut and it all went dark. 

Without a minimum notice of you, they left, murmuring to themselves in girlish talk.

You remained silent, felt frozen. A shudder glided down your back in sharp ripples pricking at your skin. There was a prevailing blaring in your head—the unmistakable noise of naught. Your lids going limp and almost closing, but there was something.

An ephemeral of light: blue and white and something else, something falling.
You gasped—in the way one would when being robbed of all air—and he hit the water. Your hand came up to cover your lips and you struggled to breathe, to function. 

That couldn’t be. He couldn’t look so real, so alive—not within that world of lies, that fake world, that non-existent world. 

But, then, he appeared to be breathing. Even from within the screen, Baekhyun seemed to be the most alive of anything you’d ever seen before.

And his eyes—bluer than the blues of the sea—sad and luminous and trapped within a reverie; they held a wistfulness akin the one they’d held when he saw you; they had the surreality of everything unimaginable and inconceivable. And then—

Oh, sometimes the truth,
Oh, hurts more than lies,
Oh, we’re scared of getting hurt,
We turn
away from the truth.

anonymous asked:

i dont really get novels. why does everyone read them?

You know that thing in a cartoon where the characters are watching a cartoon on television? And how the cartoon they’re watching is always drawn in a simpler or more abstract style? Or how a painter who paints somebody painting a picture has to make the painting-in-the-painting a little vague and not as sharp as the other things in the picture? Imagine the opposite of this, imagine a cartoon where the characters watch regular, real-life HD video, or imagine a painting where the person in the painting is holding a real photograph, not a painting of a photograph. Now imagine that it were possible to drag this relationship into real life: imagine that we were the cartoon characters and that it were possible to make a painting that would be to us what the photograph was to the painted person, to watch video that was actually sharper, more detailed and less abstract than the real life you perceive with your own eyes.

This is not possible with a photograph or a video, but this is exactly what a novel is.

traice-and-point  asked:

Sort of a psychological question: I'm noticing most of the BatIM fandom is portraying Henry as the guy that loves and cares for the cartoons (even to the point of him acting as a father for Bendy), but the question I've been asking is... why? In the game, he NEVER gives any point, motive, etc. to showing love and care for the characters. I've come up with theories as to why people have Henry like that, but I wanted to ask why YOU have Henry be the good guy.

Well, hmm.  Think about it this way.

Henry, character with his own personality though he may be, is really a stand-in for the player.  Just as they act through him by controlling his movements, the player is meant to project their own thoughts through him, hence why his voiced lines are so few and understated, and why they tend towards hints rather than personal thoughts.  He’s the one who tells you that you need to find the three switches, and that you’ve forgotten something if you head towards the instruments before switching on the projector.

Now, look at how the fandom views the cartoon characters.

We all seem to be very attached to them, and we find them endearing and cute, regardless of the fact that they’re set in a horror game as antagonists (potentially, in the case of the ‘toons that aren’t Bendy).  We see them as they’re meant to be in-universe: beloved cartoon characters, similar to the real-world Mickey Mouse and Felix the Cat.  We also know that the creators of these real-world cartoon stars were often very attached to their creations.

So right now, what we’ve got here is a nice recipe for not only envisioning a similarity between Henry and Walt Disney, but also for projecting our own sentiments onto Henry.  We, the players, extend our feelings and emotions through Henry during our playthrough of the game, so it only makes sense for us to see Henry’s feelings towards the characters as similar to our own… even if Henry’s actual canon feelings towards the characters are nothing like that.

There’s one other thing, too.  Henry’s response to the letter he received from Joey in-game is to actually show up at the old studio.  The letter is vague and suspicious, but it’s signed with “your best pal, Joey Drew,” and given Henry’s response (unless it’s purely suspicion), we can assume that Henry and Joey were, at least at some point, on very good terms with one another.  By extension, it would make sense that Henry enjoyed his job at Joey Drew Studios, and likely developed an attachment to the characters he drew day in and day out there.  (I know I’m getting attached to the characters of the show I’m working on.)

This is a pretty nonspecific answer, I know, but it also serves as my personal answer to your question.  I hope it’s at least a little helpful!

honestly i would probably literally pay someone who has synesthesia and hears colors to tell me what colors my voice is like

to know my Official Color Scheme

I know lots of people have different views on 2doc. I personally ship it. Am I a bad person? No.

Why?

Because nobody is actually getting hurt

They’re cartoons for goodness sake! They aren’t real people! Even if they were real human beings, do you think I want it to be abusive? I absolutely hate the fact that Murdoc abuses 2D. I would be really happy if 2D kicked Murdoc’s ass and put him in a coma because my blue baby boy stood up for himself. I’m interested in 2doc because their personalities are so different and yet, they work together very nicely. It seems that in this new phase, Murdoc is actually aware of what he’s done and is trying to fix his mistakes. 2D and Murdoc seem to be more friendly and less at each other’s throats.

I’m not hurting anybody by shipping them. All I’m doing is looking at fan art and reading fanfic. I’m not killing innocent children and sacrificing them to Murdoc. I’m not insulting anyone who hate 2doc. If you don’t like it, cool. Thats your opinion but don’t come to my message box and tell me I’m scum of the earth for shipping a usually abusive ship. Also, don’t post your hate on the tag. It makes people feel like crap when they see stuff like that.

Overall, as long as you aren’t doing anything too bad or harming anyone, go nuts. Draw some smutty fan art and write that kinky smut fanfic. If you are one of the people messaging 2doc shippers and telling them how disgusting they are, why are you wasting your time? They won’t listen to you. I don’t message you and say why 2doc is amazing because honestly, I don’t give a shit if you hate it but stop making other people feel bad about who they ship. Same goes for 2doc shippers. Don’t go after these accounts. You’re just provoking them to come after the rest of us. It’s better to block them and then continuing with your day.

upperstories  asked:

Toon Henry AU: Do you think Henry retains any of his toon prowess when he returns to his normal form? Like his hammerspace? I remember it being mentioned that a lot of the physics of the studious toon-iness is centered around being near the Ink machine, so it's probably not likely, but... what if he was mysteriously really good at coin tricks all of a sudden.

Ahahaha, as cool as it’d be for him to have that kind of “superpower” after returning to normal, it wouldn’t really make a whole lot of sense!  Upon being restored to his normal human state again (and this WILL happen, believe me), Henry will unfortunately retain none of his toon powers.

He doesn’t really see it as an inconvenience, of course – to him, it’s actually something of a relief to find he’s back to normal, with none of this reality-breaking nonsense afoot.

That being said, you’re right about something: part of the reason the toons are able to break reality the way they do is because of the Ink Machine’s influence on the studio.  Outside of that pocket dimension where reality has been warped, the toons can’t do everything they used to.  Squashing/stretching, smears, sure – they’re still ink, so they can do things like that, considering it’s just a redistribution of weight and volume.  But hammerspace is a no-go, as are doubles (as opposed to smears) and other things that start to tread into the “magic” territory.

…That is, to a certain degree.  Bendy and Alice are still a demon and an angel respectively, so they can still do certain “magical” things that still don’t make sense in the real world.  But they’re… not really quite as toony as all that.

Bendy is a demon.  Theoretically, he could steal a soul, or have access to hellfire and the like.

Alice is an angel.  Theoretically, she could give Heaven’s blessings, or counter anything Hellish that Bendy does.

Basically, the toons also become akin to more “real” versions of the cartoon characters they once were, after leaving the studio.  Their appearances don’t change outside of becoming more 3-dimensional, since unlike Henry they were never “real” creatures to begin with, but they are more bound by the laws of the “real” world than otherwise.

It’s gonna take them a while to adjust.

imagine if cartoon characters were Real but they were like celebrities so you’d see like yami yugi grocery shopping and someone is like “SAY THE LINE!!!” and he half heartedly points and goes “it’s time to duel…”

New Leadership - Kenny Omega Imagine (Part 1/2)

(Okay, quick note. Please know that I love Kenny Omega more than pretty much anything. But I wrote this just out of intrigue for it more than anything else. Please forgive me 😳)

She could practically feel the stunned energy that came from not just Kenny, but the entire venue, as the bottom of she and the Buck’s shoes connected with the former leader of Bullet Club’s face. She’d skipped back slightly, looking to the two Bucks who both beamed at her, both spreading their arms out towards Omega with exaggerated bows for her to go ahead and she strode forward, standing over the man who was slow to lift his head looking obviously dazed.

She stepped over him, making sure that her foot connected with his face in another hard kick to make sure he stayed down before she leaned in against the turnbuckle. She was the first woman in Bullet Club. Now the first female leader of Bullet Club. Kenny had liked her because of how treacherous she was. Because of how strong she was and how low she was willing to sink in order to get things her way. Treacherous was right and she didn’t like being told what to do. Besides, this was a long time coming. If she didn’t do it then someone else was bound to. She just wasn’t about to be beaten to the punch.

She crouched, pushing down the padding on her knee until the bare skin was exposed and she crouched slightly, hands gripping the ropes on either side as she waited for Kenny to start trying to push himself up before she charged at him in her finisher. Her knee connected with his head and she spun on the floor after to charge again and hit him with another before he could fall down far enough. Afterwards she spun and dropped so her fists could start flying at him and she only stopped once she was satisfied. She got back onto to her feet and motioned for the Bucks to move Kenny’s motionless body from the ring. As they did that she took the microphone that Marty held out for her to take with a nod of her head in thanks.

“Get him out of my ring.” She snarled quickly as the Jackson brothers finally tipped him out through the ropes so he landed in a heap on the ground. Once he was out she took in a deep breath to calm herself then let a smile slide slowly across her face. “For too long now Bullet Club has been run under the inane belief that cartoon heroes and villains were real things. That that is how you are intimidating to the rest of the world. It’s not. It makes you a joke. Kenny Omega has made Bullet Club into a joke and I am here to bring it back to it’s former glory. And I’m issuing out a warning for everyone.” She turned to one of the cameras and looked straight down it with a challenging snarl “to every wrestling company that any member of Bullet Club is or can be a part of. Be that Ring of Honor, New Japan, WCPW, PWG, Progress, Attack, all of them! Bullet Club is coming for everything. Every belt, every championship everything that can be taken, will be taken.’ She paused, smirking slowly “and to anyone who even thinks about trying to stand in our way? You better watch your back because Bullet Club is back to being the biggest, nastiest, and most brutal faction in the history of wrestling and we won’t hesitate to trample anyone who stands in our way.’

She’d trailed off then, snarling at the boos that had rose from the crowds “what? Am I supposed to feel bad cause you don’t like what’s happening? Because I don’t! This is my club now!” The boos picked up and she just laughed, twirling back in to shrug at the men around her who all sent her matching ones back. “Okay. Well, Kenny was my first line of business but before we go I’ve got… two more things that need to be taken care of. Boys?’

At once, before they even had a chance to react, the Young Bucks were restrained by the other members of the club. Gasps of surprise reigned in from all around them and the shock and confusion on the two brother’s faces made her pout mockingly. “Aww boys. Come on. Did you honestly think that I was gonna let you stick around? I mean how many different people have you sworn loyalty to in this club before Super-kicking them in the back? Do you think I’m stupid? I’m not AJ, I’m not Adam, I’m definitely not Kenny. I’m not about to think that because you’re saying you’re loyal now you’re going to stay loyal forever. And if it makes you feel better then this wasn’t a unanimous decision. Bullet Club isn’t a democracy anymore. I don’t care if Kenny ever gave you a say in what happened. It’s a dictatorship and as leader I say that your tenure with Bullet Club has finally come to an end.” She paused then turned around to where Kenny was lying outside and leaned against the ropes, arms crossed and one hand raised slightly so she could talk into the mic “and before they go crawling back apologising to you Kenny and there’s a chance that you might actually take them back then I want you to know that they were the first ones to turn on you. That they took literally zero convincing. Everyone else took time. Took a little bit of work to make them realise how bad it was for the club to have you as leader but those two just jumped at the chance of having something new.” She turned back to them slowly, eyes narrowed “so why the fuck would I want two people like that behind me?” She stalked towards them, shaking her head in disgust “you two aren’t worth the bottom of my boot. So I’ll just leave you to them. And they can do whatever they want. Cause guess what boys?” The mic dropped to the floor with a clang and her hands shot up to grip both of their chins tightly and she smirked at their glares. Her words were slow and obvious. People couldn’t hear her but they could tell what was being said. “You’re not the favourites anymore. And now you’re gonna remember what the real world’s like. Have fun on the outside.”

Part Two

Masterlist

Folly Five AU - The Scaley Trickster and The Dancing Demon

This is a starter fanfiction story of a toon alternate universe idea me and @the-vampire-inside-me have been brainstorming together and it’s going to get bigger. :) 

It basically has toon characters from Disney, Bendy, Cuphead, and various other cartoons, games, and studios many people are familiar with or recognize. Few of the characters in our AU are OCs owned by me and vampire. 

Anyway, enjoy! ;3

Whizbang the Dragon © me
Bendy, Bendy and the Ink Machine © theMeatly
Horace Horsecollar, Pete, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit © Disney

Prologue 1 
Prologue 2
Prologue 3


Folly Five AU  - The Scaley Trickster and The Dancing Demon

The Tooniverse. A world between the real world and the world-between. Cartoon characters that were ever created go here to call home. 

It was during the olden days of black-and-white when cartoon characters would gather in the growing settlement of Toontown. When they aren’t doing their jobs in playing their cartoons, toon characters would come to Toontown to relax, rest, spend time with friends and family, and most of all have fun. Main cartoon stars and their co-stars would leave the studios of their workplace to retire for a hard day’s work until they are called back. Most characters play roles that are identical to when they are off the set, while others have opposite personalities. Toontown is reminiscent to the real world, such as the presence of toon crime, violence, and other things. But it was otherwise a nice establishment, where toons come and work together as a team. Everyday was the usual for the toons. 

Except for one little fella.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Why does Toon Henry AU seem so much more lighthearted than the others? Is it because tooning grants Henry auto-immunity to certain extremes? Or because even the dire moments have a comedic edge, like they're just setups for a jovial payoff?

Closer to the latter!  As a toon, Henry has the usual resilience of a cartoon character, but even for cartoons, certain threats were very, very real – think of the classic “tied to a train track” trope.

If Bendy got serious, Henry could very well die in this AU, even as a toon.  But Bendy is much more interested in messing with him and taunting him  – it’s much more fun that way.

Besides, it’s not like Bendy’s had anyone to “perform” for in a long time.  Henry gets to serve as both his opposite and as his audience.  And Bendy’s learned a few new tricks since Henry last saw him…